I knew from my experience with my mother that you never got over the loss. Each loss, depending on the relationship was different.
I’d never given my heart to anyone before.
Not before him.
I couldn’t kid myself. So much had happened but that spark of something, whatever it was, came alive every time I was with him.
“I’m really sorry,” I repeated.
“Thank you, but please stop apologizing,” he said, running a finger over the edge of my jaw. “I don’t want you to feel sorry about asking me stuff.”
“Thanks. I like knowing what I can about you.” I did. “I think she would have felt lucky to have you.”
He smiled at that. “Yeah?”
I nodded because that was a given. “Definitely.”
He looked like it meant a lot to hear that. I imagined that he must have loved her enough to want to marry her and spend the rest of his life with her. It was sad he didn’t get to be with her.
He was the kind of guy who wouldn’t cheat, and he’d make sure his woman knew how much he loved her.
That was how I saw him.
All she’d have to do is look at him and know.
“I think too… she was lucky to be loved by you,” I stated. “It must be nice.”
His eyes caught mine and the glint appeared again. The light came into his eyes as he looked at me, burning with a gleam that invited me to take a peek into his soul. The gleam called to me, telling me without words all I needed to know, telling me everything.
It was me who’d discovered that his eyes gave him away. They were doors to truth and all I had to do was look at him and I knew. I would know the answer to anything I wanted. Even an answer to a question I hadn’t asked.
Right now his eyes were telling me something. Showing me something.
Love…
That was what I saw.
I knew love when I saw it. It was right there in his eyes, staring right back at me.
Love…
I felt it like the strength of the passion that always took over when we were together.
It almost scared me. Almost. I wanted it too badly to be afraid.
He reached out and cupped my face, and I hoped he could see how I felt in my eyes too.
I loved him too. I didn’t need time to tell me that.
He reached out to touch my face and the contact of his fingertips on my skin made my whole body tingle.
I moved to him as he lowered to kiss me, pressing my lips to his for a kiss that sang through my veins. The series of slow drugging kisses were unlike the ones we’d shared before.
They reached into my soul and demanded that I surrender to the call of emotion.
Fire burned within me and turned the kiss needy, commanding us both to yield and not resist.
We kissed the clothes off each other and lost ourselves to passion’s call.
All the while he touched me I drank in the sweetness of the moment, knowing he was making love to me.
And me to him.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Xander
I loved the way the sun shone down on her hair.
It picked out the lighter parts.
Her hair was platinum blonde so how I saw anything lighter was a mystery, but then I’d always been able to see things like that.
Attention to detail. That was me.
The essence of me. I paid attention and took note. Took note of what things looked like and things I used to call details, things like emotions. Normally I’d be trying to assess someone’s emotion or guess what they were up to. Bad guys, criminals, and those who helped further their pursuits.
Attention to detail. I was so good at it and it had taken me this long to realize I hadn’t just taken up some obsessive habit over this woman. I loved her.
I loved her…
I truly loved her, and this was goodbye. Except I wouldn’t say it.
I wasn’t going to say goodbye and that wouldn’t break the promise I made her because I’d seen her first.
There was yesterday, although it started out badly and I very nearly killed Armand. And, there was today.
Right now. This morning. It was all I could spare. Two more hours then Frankie would take over and I’d meet Wes at my apartment to set this plan in motion. From there I’d head to the secret chamber, get the blueprints and make way for the coast of Mexico.
I had it all planned out, all of it, that was my way.
Right now though, and for the next few hours, I was spending it with her in every essence of the word.
We sat in the diner she said served up the best food and I had to agree with her. We’d been here for the last hour talking it up like we were a regular couple.
We’d found one thing we really liked and that was music. Miss Jia liked old forties classics just as much as me. Her mother loved them and she fell in love with them too.
For me it was Jack. He played it all the time at home. All the time every day. It played in the background like it was part of the furniture. He’d said he’d gotten into it during the Gulf war and it helped him. That was his explanation. He didn’t explain how it helped him but he didn’t have to. I understood. He’d told enough war stories for me to get it.
It did the same for me.
“Billie Holiday. I love her,” Jia bubbled. We’d been listing our favorite artists and bands.
I nodded and smiled. “Absolutely baby, you can’t talk blues or jazz without mentioning her. Not one damn bit.”
“No, you can’t. One of my favorite, favorite movies is Forever Young, with Mel Gibson. Did you see it?” Her eyes sparkled with pure excitement. I loved seeing this side of her.
I saw that movie probably a hundred times, again with Jack. Jack and Claire though. Both of them loved that film. To answer her question I reached for the salt shaker, made a show of spilling a little on the table then did exactly as Mel Gibson’s character, Captain Daniel McCormick did when I dashed a pinch in my hand and tossed it over my left shoulder.
She smiled and brought her dainty hands together. I figured if it was one of her favorite, favorite movies, she’d get what I was doing. She did.
“Oh my gosh you saw it. I love that. Then you know too that there was a lot of Billie Holiday in the film.”
“There was heaps of Billie Holiday in the film. Sometimes I wonder if I watched it because of that. It just had a feel to it that made you wish it wouldn’t end.”
“Yeah, exactly.” She beamed but then something dimmed in her eyes.
It happened earlier when we woke up and she thought I’d left.
I’d left her side only to sit by the window and brainstorm as I watched the sunrise spill all over her.
When she saw that I was still there with her, the happiness was evident in her beautiful face. It even masked the bruise Armand had given her cheek. It helped me look past it and tamp down the rage that roiled within me because someone put their hands on her again.
The dimness came back to her eyes now, probably because of the feeling of not wanting this to end.
The time was also creeping up on us, two hours could go by in a flash.
“What got you into art?” I asked. It was the quickest thing that came to mind as I searched for something to bridge the moment.
She smiled again. “I looked outside one day and realized there was so much beauty all around me. It was all there, and each second was different to the next. Something could happen to change the scenery. Anything. A bird could fly by. The wind could rustle through the trees and change the way the leaves looked. Or, it could simply start raining. I love landscapes.”