Finding Her Forever Family, page 14
She wanted to kiss him. Man, did she. But the things she was grappling with inside her head were difficult enough, so she took a big bite of breakfast burrito instead. “Super-hungry.”
“Hmm.” Tom kissed her temple then took a seat beside her, unwrapping his breakfast.
They ate in silence for several minutes.
Speaking of being hungry, Wendy stared at her plate and willed away the images of them entwined together last night. Ugh. Those things wouldn’t help her stick with her plan to bail early on this weekend. She shoved the rest of the delicious burrito into her mouth then stood to take her plate to the sink. After swallowing, she said, “Lots to do today. I’ll meet you in Sam’s bedroom.”
She didn’t wait for an answer, just hurried down the hall and got busy with a screwdriver, removing one of the two electrical outlet covers on the wall they’d be painting. Soon she sensed Tom’s presence behind her, felt her body respond to him. Softening. Weakening. Accepting.
And while her rational self knew part of it had to be the intimacy of being here alone together in his apartment, she’d still been effectively and thoroughly seduced by his sweet words and loving touches. Mind and body. Heart and soul.
So much so that if she didn’t skedaddle after they finished Sam’s room today, she feared she wouldn’t escape this weekend without irreparable damage to her heart. In fact, it was probably already too late.
“Did you learn your handyman skills from your dad and brothers too?” he asked.
She glanced back at him, happy to chat about her family and not think about the awkward conversation ahead. “Yep. I can also do roofing, plumbing and rebuild an engine in ten minutes flat.”
She moved on to the next outlet, desperate to keep busy.
Tom got to work taping off the seam of an abutting wall. “Maybe I should call you by a superhero name instead of Wendy.”
“Maybe you should.” She gave him a quick wink. “I’ve been on my own a long time. Girl’s got to take care of herself.”
“What if you didn’t, though,” he said, not looking at her. “Have to be on your own, I mean. What if you had someone to help take care of you?”
She gathered up the outlet covers and screws, carried them to the closet, her hand shaking as she set them on top of a box, then picked up the other roll of painter’s tape and moved a stepladder over to the wall before climbing to the top step. “I like not having to rely on anyone else.”
He frowned. “You could, though. You could rely on me.”
Truthfully, she’d love to have Tom to lean on, to confide in, to have and to hold. But it wasn’t to be. She couldn’t let it be. It wasn’t fair to him or Sam. She’d applied about six inches of tape when Tom clamped his hands around her waist. She stopped, her heart tripping, and tilted her head down. “What are you doing?”
He looked up at her, gaze narrowed. “Figured this was easier than telling you to get down and let me do the ceiling.”
“Probably.”
“So I’m doing the next best thing by making sure you don’t fall.”
Wendy resumed her work, resorting to being snarky to cover the ache of affection in her chest. “You mean you’re taking the opportunity to ogle my butt.”
“Such a fine butt,” he said with a satisfying amount of appreciation. “But I also meant what I said. I’m here for you, Wendy. Whenever and however you need me.”
“Thanks.” The word rasped out of her dry throat. She hated feeling trapped and right now everything seemed to be closing in rapidly around her. She quickly spread another foot or so of tape then climbed down to shift the stepladder. Tom kept his hands on her waist until she reached the floor. She stepped back and held the tape out to him. “If you want to do the ceiling, go ahead.”
He smiled. “On further consideration, I’d rather be in charge of safety.”
Rather than enjoy this flirty side of him far more than she should, Wendy moved the ladder and climbed back up to finish the job.
When she was done, Tom said, “Tell me more about your mom.”
A topic she had no interest in discussing right now. “Why don’t you turn on the radio instead? I like everything but rap.”
“You still don’t want to talk about her.”
“Why the sudden interest?” She did her best not to sound defensive and failed, given his frown.
“Because I care about you, Wendy. A lot.”
His confession swept the ground out from beneath her feet, leaving her in emotional free fall. Her elation over the fact he cared for her was quickly drowned by panic. Instead of being brave, she resorted to her old standby, avoidance. “Uh, how about those Anoraks? Think they’ll make the playoffs this year? With Bobby Templeton back up to speed, they look pretty unbeatable.”
“I’m trying to have a meaningful conversation here, Wendy,” he said, his tone flat. “You know, the type consenting adults have when they care for one another.”
“What’s wrong with hockey?”
“Nothing’s wrong with hockey. But I’d much rather know your feelings toward me.”
Gah! The last thing she needed was for Tom to know how much she cared for him too. She couldn’t tell him. Not until she’d made peace with it herself. It would only make it harder to go.
He’d stopped working and stood staring at her, his expression serious.
She sighed, grabbing a drop cloth to protect the floor, skirting the topic entirely once again by going back to his earlier question. “My mom was great. Funny, awesome in a crisis, and loved reading. She was my best friend, my confidante, my champion. Then she died, slowly and painfully. My dad and brothers did the best they could to raise me.”
They’d done far more than their best. They were everything to her. Family was one of the most important tenets of Iñupiat life. And while she wasn’t necessarily that tuned into her heritage in her daily life, she still kept that part alive and well. Seeing Tom and Sam grow closer together over the past few weeks had only reminded her how much she yearned for a family of her own. She turned away, blinking back tears. Crying wouldn’t help. Her life was currently a big mess and she needed to clean it up. Starting with reinforcing those barriers around her heart before they crumbled completely, and it was too late.
* * *
Tom felt like an idiot. He hadn’t meant to blurt out his feelings, but he wanted her to know she was important to him, that this wasn’t just some fling, not in his eyes. Things had changed for him. He’d hoped they’d changed for her too.
Maybe this was a sign. Maybe his controlling tendencies were getting out of hand again. He’d known that bringing up the possibility of a long-term relationship with Wendy was risky, but damn. He was done avoiding the truth. Tom was ready to face facts.
Keeping his distance had been his plan, yet here he was, knee-deep in whatever this was with Wendy, and it felt like the tide was rising faster and faster. Her disease was a touchy subject for her. He got that. So were relationships, commitment. God knew, there were things he didn’t like discussing either, but part of living meant dealing with things, so you could move on.
Frustrated, he rearranged the stack of tarps behind him.
He turned back to find Wendy on her hands and knees, taping the edge of a drop cloth to the floor. His chest squeezed tight. He loved Wendy. Deeply. Truly. And, yes, he wanted her. So badly it hurt. But he couldn’t do this again. Not if she refused to be open and honest about her life and her disease. Yes, she was scared, but he had more than himself to think of now.
Sam had been through enough already with the death of her mother. He wouldn’t put her through losing Wendy too. Dammit. If things weren’t going to work out between them, he needed to know now, one way or another. That way they could make a clean break before Sam got back. And, yeah, maybe he was trying to control things again, trying to fit Wendy inside one of his neat little boxes when all she wanted was to be free.
Best to find out now. The longer he waited, the harder it would be.
Tom cleared his throat and forced himself to get back to work, taping a drop cloth into the corner. Wendy was beautiful, confident, smart, helpful, caring, fun, sexy, hardworking, dedicated. In fact, Tom couldn’t think of one single thing he didn’t like about her.
Except the fact she could be dying...
He didn’t like that possibility at all.
Wendy pried off the lid of a paint can then turned it to face him. “Told you the shade was amazing. Sam’s going to be thrilled.”
“Spectacular,” he said, looking at her and not the color.
Without comment she poured the paint into a roller pan.
Tom gathered up his brushes, opened both windows and they started to work. But as time dragged on, his niggle of unease grew. She’d never answered him about her feelings.
The silence closed in and the pressure to share...something, anything, built until he couldn’t stand it any longer. “My mother went back to school to become a licensed clinical psychologist after I graduated med school,” he said, concentrating on each thick, pink stroke. “I’m proud of her for doing it.” He bent to get more paint on his brush. “Nothing like having your mom analyze your sex life at family dinners. Dad takes it all in his stride, of course. Retired Air Force guy. He’s seen it all and wasn’t impressed.”
“They sound nice.”
His parents were amazing, but anxiety was clawing inside him, urging him to get things settled here once and for all. Once Sam came home they’d be back to their regular schedules, their regular lives. Unless she allowed herself to open up with him, to be vulnerable like he was trying so hard to be with her, then those lives would have to be separate. They’d see each other at work. Wendy and Sam would still have their chats. His daughter would continue to volunteer in the Family Lounge in the ER, but it would be different.
There’d be no “them.”
He wanted far more from Wendy than a fling, but he couldn’t force her to get her test results or admit her feelings for him, just like he hadn’t been able to force Nikki to stay in contact with him about their daughter or stop taking the drugs that had eventually killed her. Nope. It was Wendy’s decision whether to get her results and all he could do was support her either way. It wasn’t about him. And if she decided she didn’t want him around anymore? Well, then, he’d have to find a way to be okay with it. Things between him and Sam had improved, with Wendy’s help. They’d probably be okay now, even if his heart might not recover.
“Here’s some trivia for your inquisitive mind.” Wendy stopped painting and looked over at him. “When I was seven, my mom wanted to expose us to our cultural heritage, so she enrolled me and my brothers in Iñupiat language classes at the local library.”
“That’s cool. I’d love to learn your language someday.”
She gave him a pointed stare then turned away to continue working.
Tom kept his mouth shut after that.
* * *
By late afternoon, the pink wall was done, much quicker than he’d anticipated. They still had to let it dry before putting up the shelves and pictures and moving the furniture back into place, but the time had come for some serious talk and answers. He glanced at the clock. Six p.m. “Uh, want to take a walk before dinner?”
Wendy set her roller aside and wiped her hands on her scrub pants, her expression oddly somber. “A walk sounds great. The sunset should be beautiful tonight.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
WENDY CHANGED INTO jeans and an Anchorage Mercy T-shirt, then went outside to wait for Tom on the sidewalk. The sun was low enough in the sky to cast long shadows and the breeze blowing in off the inlet was cool enough to take the edge off the heat. The temperatures had been unusually warm the past week. She tapped the toe of her flip-flop on the cement, feeling edgy and nervous about the conversation ahead.
He stepped outside a few minutes later, still wearing the same clothes but with sneakers. He slid an arm around her waist and she buried her face in his shoulder and inhaled his good smell. Tom pulled back to kiss her.
Wendy looped her arm through his, leading him down the sidewalk toward Tikishla Park.
He squeezed her closer into his side. “Listen, about earlier...”
Dread clawed through her as they strolled down East Northern Light Boulevard and dusk settled in. No baseball games tonight, it appeared. The Little League ball diamond was dark. Seemed symbolic somehow. They stopped at the corner and he took her hand. “I know you’re afraid, Wendy. I am too. But I love you. Please don’t push me away. We can get through this if you let me in and share with me what you’re feeling.”
Her blood pounded so hard in her ears it drowned out everything else.
Tell him. Get out now, before you can’t.
They walked on a bit farther. The silence between them grew taut.
The white of his T-shirt faded to light gray as the moon peeked out from behind a cloud. Tom looked ethereal, the ends of his blond hair glowing slightly.
They walked on into the park and took a seat on a wooden bench to watch the sunset. Vibrant pinks, purples and golds streaked the sky. Tom put his arm around her shoulders again, pulling her closer, making her yearn for all the things she’d never allowed herself to have. The temperature dropped as twilight descended and he whispered in her ear, “Tell me what you’re thinking.”
Wendy closed her eyes and forced herself to scoot away from him. “I’m thinking this isn’t a good idea, Tom. Being around you has me confused and distracted and I need time to figure all this out.” Her stomach lurched, the words slicing like raw glass in her throat. She squeezed her eyes shut and made herself continue. “This weekend was great and all, but I never wanted a relationship. I told you that from the start. You said you loved me but I’m a loner. You want honesty? We had a nice couple of nights together. Time to end on a high note.”
He pulled back slightly, deep lines forming between his brows as his frown deepened. “Wait a minute, Wendy. This is more than just sex. I feel it and I think you do too.” When she didn’t respond, he pulled away too, scowling. “You’re doing it again. Shutting me out. Dammit.” He raked a hand through his hair while she stared at her toes. “What about Sam?”
“What about her? Like you said, she and I can continue to meet for our chats. She never has to know about any of this.” If she stayed one more second, she’d end up telling him everything—all her fears, all her dreams, all her feelings for him and for Sam. Energy ricocheted inside her like a pinball. She had to go, had to run. Now. Before it was too late. Wendy stood, hugging her arms around her middle to keep from reaching for him. “Trust me. This is for the best. Let’s just keep things light. Nothing has to change.”
“Things damn well do have to change, Wendy. I just told you that I loved you.” Tom pushed to his feet, anger and hurt shining in his blue eyes. “Doesn’t that mean anything? How the hell can you stand there and tell me what’s best for me and Sam when you don’t even have the courage to face your own fears? People call me a control freak, but you’re the one with the complex here. You think if you ignore what scares you, you’ll be safe, but life doesn’t work that way. I’ve told you how I feel, what I want. I’ve tried to show you I’ll be there for you, tried to hold on, but I’m done. I won’t repeat the same mistakes I did with Nikki.”
He pinched the bridge of his nose. “This time I’m taking the hint.”
She blanched, tears welling. “I’m sorry but whatever this is, I can’t handle it right now.”
“Goodbye, Wendy.” With that, he turned and walked away, heading back toward his apartment, leaving her there alone with too many feelings, too much regret, only to have a little corgi come around the corner and sniff her feet.
“Oh, hey.” A college kid wearing an Anchorage Anoraks hockey jersey followed, pulling on the dog’s leash. “C’mon, Daisy.” The kid tugged the dog away. “She thinks everyone’s here to see her. Have a good night.”
Wendy headed back toward home as well, the knot in her gut tightening as she spotted Tom up ahead. He’d stopped to pick at a loose thread at the hem of his shirt, his stress habit on full display again.
The tension inside her that had been building since that morning boiled over into anger. She had a right to be controlling about her life, her future, dammit. He had no right to an opinion on her choices. None at all. He might want the last say here, but she didn’t have to give it to him.
“So that’s it, then?” she yelled as she drew closer to him, knowing she should walk away but unable to leave him. Not yet. “You say it’s over and, boom, we’re done? Great. Perfect. That’s pretty damned controlling, Tom.”
“Why do you care?” He backed away, nearing the curb. “You’re a loner, remember? You said you wanted no strings, no commitment. Well, here you go. No, wait.” He snapped his fingers and made a show of having an epiphany. “Once again, I’m handing you exactly what you say you want on a silver platter and what are you doing? Pushing me away. What a shocker!”
“Fine. You’re right. I’m damaged. I’m broken. I’m shoving you away.” She sniffled and brushed her hand across her damp cheek. “But I’m also not yours to fix!”
“I don’t want to fix you, Wendy,” he said, throwing up his hands in a sign of surrender. “I just wanted to love you. That’s it. Sorry that doesn’t fit in with your plans.”
He started across the street, not looking both ways and not looking back either.
Wendy covered her face with her hands. She should let him go. This was what she’d wanted. To be alone. He was right. Right about everything. She had pushed him away...she was avoiding her fears. And if she went after him all her defenses would vanish, and she’d be right back where she’d started.
She couldn’t do it. Wouldn’t do it. No matter how her heart was screaming in agony.
