He chuckled, spooning mashed potatoes into his mouth. “Theyhave them, so why did it fall on you?”
The short answer: It didn’t.
The long answer: “They didn’tneedme to stay. Theydidn’t even ask, but after the heart attack, we knew he wouldn’t be going backto work, and then what? The deli would have been gone and out of our family.They were willing to give it up, but I wasn’t.”
“You never cared much about it when you wereworkin’ there after school,” he pointed out.
I shrugged. “Yeah, well, I didn’t think I cared so muchabout the place until the possibility of it being gone became a reality, youknow?”
“I do.”
Those two little words—I do—sparked a little mentalmovie: A little blonde boy with deep dimples, clutching my hand. Cool as acucumber.
Those two little words—I do—sparked another: A tallblonde man with stubble, unable to hide his dimples, clutching my hand. Cool asa cucumber.
“And where did I come into play?”
“You didn’t.”
He laughed through a mouthful of food. “Oh, come on. Ourparents still live next door to each other, and you knew I still lived here.You’retellin’ me that when you decided to come back,I didn’t cross your mind once?”
“Oh no, Patrick. You crossed my mind alot, but youwere my number one reason for staying away. I thought you were living the goodlife over here. Nobody ever talked to me about you, so what the hell did Iknow? I didn’t want to come back and see you parading your little family aroundtown. But, when my dad had his heart attack, I had to suck it up.”
He chewed slowly on his roast beef, eyeing me with lovingclarity. “So, the evidence I’ve gathered tonight is that, you felt guilty foryears, as well as jealous of what turned out to be nothing. Huh.”
“What’s your point?”
He shrugged, a smug little smirk crinkling the corners ofhis eyes. “I don’t know why you won’t just say it.”
“Say, what?” I knew what.
“That you’re in love with me.”
I snapped a bite off a green bean. “I’m not falling in lovewith you again.”
“Hey, I never said anything about ‘again.’” I turnedmy head to find those eyes looking straight at me. Always those eyes. “Youcan’t fall back in, if you never got out.”
He had set his now-empty plate aside on the coffee table, andalthough he saw mine still had a few scattered bits of food, he took it away. Ididn’t resist, just scowled and crossed my arms, but really, I was done.Literally, and figuratively.
This push and pull between us, it was crazy and redundant,but it was necessary to our homecoming. It was necessary to our healing. We hadto fight, because we never had. We had to talk, because we never had. We had tosort things out, because we never had. And with every retreat, and everyreturn, I felt the fragmented pieces of our conjoined heart gluing themselvesback together.
“Okay,” he said with a single clap of his hands, “there’sone more place I want to go.”
“There’s more?”
He took my hand and watched as our fingers slid together.“Yes.”
His voice was low, husky, and he pulled my hand to hislips. I closed my eyes.
“Where are we going?”
He feathered light kisses along my knuckles and over mythumb. He turned my hand, placed his open mouth against my palm and lickedslowly. My breath tripped with a ragged gasp, and I watched through lustfuleyes as he travelled down further to my inner wrist. A slow open-mouthed kisssent a rush of warmth through my veins, straight to my heart, and his lipslingered before he pulled himself from the couch, tugging me onto my feet.
“You know what I always loved about you,Kins?” he asked, wrapping his arm around my waist, pullingme into him.
My knees wobbled from the sensual torment to my hand, and Iswallowed. “What?”
“I didn’t realize it untillater on,but I loved that you just lovedme. You never tried to change me, youjust … wanted me, even when I was being anarse.” Iknew he was referring to Christine, and I didn’t need to bother asking forconfirmation. “Yaknow what she hated most?”
