Waiting for a Girl Like You (13 page)

“Go to sleep, my darling.” He kissed her forehead. “You’re right where you belong again.”

“Where’s that?”

“In my arms.”

* * * *

Marc woke up with a shaft of sunlight boring through his eyelids. Alex was curled into his side with one hand over her face, shielding her eyes, but she stirred as soon as he moved. “Good morning, beautiful,” he said.

“I’m pretty sure it’s late afternoon, early evening.”

“Kinda feels like a brand new day to me.” He ran his tongue over his teeth. So much like a brand new day that he wanted to brush, floss, and have a bowl of cereal.

She laughed and sat up. “What a day.”

Marc ran his fingers down her spine making her look at him over her shoulder. “I never want to be without you.”

A slight frown creased her brow for a moment before it was gone. “What?”

He sat up and took her hands. “I never want to be without you.” When he leaned in and kissed her, she didn’t respond. “Alex?”

“I think I missed something.”

“I want you to move in with me. Or me to move in with you. I could get a place near your school until you finish your degree. Or forever if you wanted. I can live about anywhere. Music takes me away from home a lot, so you would have lots of time to work on your studies.”

That frown creased her brow again, lingering this time. “I don’t know.”

“I know this was supposed to be a summer thing, but I’ve never felt this before. When Bear met Maureen, I thought he was being a sucker. I had no idea what it was like to really fall in love.”

“Weren’t you married?”

“I know!” Jeez, Dez. He’d been a complete idiot marrying her. That was a kiddie pool. This was Olympic-pool size. Deep and wide and exactly the right temperature. He couldn’t explain that to her. It sounded stupid in his head. She’d think he’d lost his marbles.

“We just met.”

“Joseph Campbell said marriage is a recognition of spiritual identity. I recognized me in you and you in me the moment I met you.” Something in his chest slid into place. Life with Alex. Home was wherever she was.

“Marriage.” Alex pulled back. She scrambled off the bed. “Why are you talking about marriage?”

“Don’t panic. This is right.” Marc stood in front of her and put his hands on her shoulders. The sun was behind her, giving her a halo, but she was shaking so hard he should have been able to hear the vibration. “Alex, I want to treat you like a precious stone. Let me.”

“Let you?” she whispered. “I’m afraid. What if you fi—fall out of love with me?”

“It won’t happen. You will never have to be alone.”

Alex sucked in a deep breath like a drowning woman who had just been pulled onto the beach. “No matter what?”

“There is nothing that would drive me away from you.”

She pulled back, blinking. “Nothing?”

“Alex, I wish I could explain to you how I feel, but I can’t. There are no words.” He gathered her hands into his. Her delicate, wonderful hands. “I never want to be without you, and I know it’s going to be hard, and I know there’s going to be times when we can’t be together, but I want to spend every second I can of the rest of my life with you.”

She blinked. “Every second?”

“Every second.”

“For the rest of your life?”

“Absolutely.”

“No matter what?”

“No matter what you do.”

Sobbing, she sunk into his arms. Not the response he expected, but it worked.

* * * *

“I think you’re nuts,” Marc said, pulling the car into park in front of Angela and Finn’s.

“I might be, but I have the opening shift and I can’t let Ida and Paul down.”

“So put in your notice tomorrow. Tell them you have a full-time job being in love with me.” He pulled her hand to his lips.

Alex shivered. He’d promised and meant it. At least, he meant it now.

But Marc, something about the way he stammered over his words, made it seem too true for speech. It reminded her of the Mathew Arnold poem that said something about love being too weak to unlock the heart and let it speak. “I made a commitment, and I want to keep it.”

“Okay, but I think you’re going to regret every minute you’re not with me.” He drew a deep breath with his eyes fixed on hers. “I know I’m going to regret every minute you’re not with me.”

“No wonder you’re such a successful songwriter.”

He chuckled and released her hand. “I’ll see you tomorrow bright and early.”

“No. Don’t you dare come in until the end of my shift, or I’ll never get any work done. Ida will kill you.”

“Fine. I’ll be there tomorrow, and we can start planning that big trip to Italy you always dreamed of.”

Italy. Last night when he had suggested delaying her master’s for a semester to travel to Italy with him, it had taken all of ten seconds for her to agree. He loved her. Three months traveling through Italy with Marc and away from Roger. The master’s program would be there when she was ready, and by that time, maybe Roger would have gotten himself together so she wouldn’t have to worry about the two of them bumping into one another. The loans would have to be dealt with when the time came. She leaned in and pecked him on the cheek before jumping out of the car. Anymore than that, and she might never get into the house. “Bye.”

“See you tomorrow.”

He waited on the street until she closed the front door behind her. She leaned on it, sighing, listening to the car pull away. Angela and Finn both turned away from tonight’s crime dramedy to look at her.

“Well?” Angela asked.

“He wants me to move in with him. He’s taking me to Italy.”

Finn snorted and turned back to the TV, but Angela jumped up. “Really? Italy? What about school?”

“I’m going to delay it. He said they’re not going into the studio for a while so we can spend the time together. I might even transfer to UCLA to finish up. If I finish at all.”

“If? You’d quit?”

“He mentioned marriage.”

“Marriage!” Angela threw her arms around Alex. “I knew it. I just knew it. You two are perfect for each other.”

“I guess so.” Alex pulled away and rubbed her face. “I have to clean up and get to bed. I open in the morning. Good night.”

After a quick shower, she opened her e-mail. The first one was from the university congratulating her on finishing her master’s thesis, and if she had any questions “do not reply to this e-mail address, but contact your advisor.” Master’s thesis, she hadn’t… The time on the e-mail said it had arrived about an hour and a half after she and Marc had left the diner. She opened her sent e-mail. About the time Marc was declaring his undying devotion, she had snuck home and submitted a master’s thesis and had been back in time to sink sobbing into Marc’s arms.

Roger. That bastard.

Yanking on a T-shirt and a pair of jeans, she ran out to the living room where Angela and Finn were still planted in front of the television. “I need to borrow your car.”

“Okay.” Angela stood up.

“Why?” Finn asked. That made Angela stop. If he’d kept his mouth shut, she’d have the keys in her hands by now.

Alex dug her fingernails into her palms.
Well, Finn, I have to go beg my ex-lover to get a paper back before he ruins any hope I have of an academic career.
“I need to go up the mountain.”

Angela crossed the room to her purse and rummaged for a minute to find the keys before holding them out.

Alex ran out the door and jumped in Angela’s gold Taurus. She reversed out of the driveway, flinging gravel and no doubt upsetting Finn. Roger couldn’t do this. This wasn’t the action of a man in love. This was crazy. Alex had to go slower than she wanted once she reached the mountain because the road dropped off right behind the barrier. One wrong move and she’d go flying into the trees like she was starring in a summer blockbuster movie. That was pretty symbolic, too. One wrong move, and her life was over. At the campground, she slowed to a crawl, letting the headlights sweep around the circle of cabins. Roger’s car was parked in front of one at the back. She pulled in behind him. Ignoring the stares of the couple sitting on their porch watching a bunch of kids chase fireflies in the middle of the circle of cabins, she banged on the door.

“Alex.” Roger smiled like it was Christmas morning. “I knew you would come. Come inside.”

“You knew I would come? How could I not? What are you doing?” Alex snarled. Her throat ached from not screaming. She should be screaming.

Roger looked over her shoulder at the couple next door. “Inside.”

Alex stepped in. She could hash it out with Marc in the middle of dinner rush, and she couldn’t with Roger when there were only two witnesses. Very telling. The small living room had a neat pile of books on the table next to the laptop. Positioned as if they had just been unpacked. “Roger, what are you trying to do to me?”

“I told you. I’ve submitted your thesis. I knew you wouldn’t want to do it yourself.” He reached for her. “What is it?”

“Of course I wouldn’t want to do it myself. It wasn’t my thesis. I can’t steal someone else’s work. Especially Melanie’s. She’s dead. That’s so wrong. It’s not even plagiarism. It’s grave robbing.”

“Alex, you are working with antiquated ideas of right and wrong. It’s so charmingly feminine of you.”

Charmingly feminine. He said it all the time. His way of saying that she was a stupid woman. Her time in the mountains with Marc was doing some good. “Roger—”

“Listen to me, my dear. From a certain perspective, this is right.” He was smiling ever so slightly, but smiling just the same. Unbelievable.

Alex opened her mouth, but nothing came out. Her brain had slammed to a stop so fast she thought inertia must have carried it forward into her skull causing a concussion. “From a certain perspective? Are you mad?”

“You were writing a paper about lost opportunity, and you were losing an opportunity. This thesis was nearly finished. I polished it a little for you as a thank you for all the work you’ve done for me all these years and for the depth of our relationship. To prove that I love you.”

“Wait. Let me get this straight.” Alex pressed her hands over her temples hoping that would keep her brain from slamming to a stop again. “You submitted a stolen thesis from my e-mail address. You hacked into my e-mail account to send a stolen thesis. A thesis stolen from a dead girl. And somehow you think this is okay? This is the right thing to do?”

“Alex, you’re repeating yourself.” Roger tried to put his arm around her again, but she dodged him.

“That’s because I can’t believe it. I keep hearing it over and over in my head and with every repetition, it gets more tawdry and reprehensible.”

“You know I would do anything for you. You are like a siren, and I have crashed myself on your rocks.”

Alex rubbed her face. “Greek mythology? Really?”

“You lured me in, Alex. You knew I was unhappy with my wife.” He shook his head, like he was forgiving her for a youthful mistake.

“I did?”

“You were so lovely and so attentive. The worthy little helpmate. Sometimes a little naive, but I find that so attractive in a woman. When I met you in class, you knew what I needed before I asked.” Roger brushed her hair off her cheek. “How could I have resisted you when I could see how hard you were trying to please me? You brought me coffee, just the way I liked it every class that term.”

“Not every class.” Every class after the first week. She’d been headed to lunch that Tuesday in September and saw him in the hall, looking like he hadn’t slept in days. She’d already been nursing a ferocious crush on the clever, gentle professor and wanted to do something for him. On the way to his class, she’d picked up a cappuccino—no foam, double sugar—because she remembered him saying that he liked it that way. Was that all it took? “Cappuccino drinkers are warmhearted but can be absent minded. No foam because you’d end up looking silly.”

“And double sweet because I have terrible impulse control. You reinvented yourself as the perfect woman for me so I would fall in love with you and cheat on my wife.” He stroked her cheek. “You saved me from a joyless existence.”

When she had ice cream with Marc on the town square, she’d been very curious about what flavor he chose because it was a reflection of his personality. She’d researched him online and dressed to please him. Her whole plan after the first day they met was to reinvent herself as Marc’s perfect woman. Was that all love was? One person who was so desirable that someone else rearranged their entire personality to please them?

“You wanted me to fall in love with you, and now you’re going to punish me by leaving me. You can’t leave me.” He clasped his hands in front of his chest. “I can’t let you go.”

“I never meant to lure you away from your wife.” Or had she? It had been so long ago. He had been the very attractive, scholarly Brit Lit professor with the tweed coat and the brown leather briefcase. She’d been crazy about him. Had she lured him away from Carla?

“I need you, Alex. Please don’t leave me.”

Marc was here on this same mountain. He had told he loved her, too. He had said he wanted to take her away to Italy and marry her. But when he found out she had tricked him into falling in love with her, that was going to change. She wasn’t any better than his ex-wife. “I have to go.”

“Meet me at the university. In my office. We’ll straighten this all out, my darling. No more of this silliness.”

“Yes.” Alex blinked. Marc had called her his darling, too. “Your office. I have to go.”

On the way down the mountain, Alex contemplated hitting the gas instead of the brakes and letting the car fly off the side of the mountain. The cursed thesis. Killed the writer and the thief.

“I have to go home. I need a ride to the bus station,” Alex announced when she walked in the door.

Finn stepped out of the bathroom with toothpaste foaming out of his mouth, wearing blue striped pajamas. “What?”

“I have to go to the bus station now. I need to go home.” Alex walked past him to her room and started jamming her things in her suitcase. All this time she’d been thinking she was the Typhoid Mary of marriage when she was the much more culpable Mata Hari.

“What do you mean you have to go now? Right now?” Angela asked from the doorway.