“My mother has Alzheimer’s.” His voice sounded stiff. Unemotional. He could already feel the layers sliding over him, locking into place. Protecting him.
“Oh my God, I’m so sorry.” She slid her arms around his waist from behind and pressed her face against his back.
Ronan stood there for a moment, stirring the sauce as though he was a robot programmed only to do that action. He wasn’t sure how to feel, what to say. Audrey didn’t try to get him to talk. Instead, she stood there, holding him while the minutes ticked on, letting her care seep into him one breath and one heartbeat at a time.
Eventually, she broke away. “Why don’t you let me cook the pasta and put everything together? You can pour us a drink, and I’ll call you when it’s done.”
What had he done to deserve such an angel?
Nothing. You don’t deserve someone like her.
He nodded, numbly moving away from the stove while Audrey took over. His feet carried him past the dining table to where the box Audrey had been carrying was laid. Curious and desperate for a distraction, he peered inside. It was a box of books. He spied novels by Ruth Rendell, Patricia Highsmith, Sue Grafton and Agatha Christie, to name a few.
“My aunt was clearing out her garage, and she found some boxes of old books,” Audrey said, watching him as she waited for the pasta water to boil. “She’s a big mystery reader, so you might find something for your grandmother.”
She remembered. That trip to the bookstore, he’d been looking for Agatha Christie first editions, and even though he’d never mentioned it again, she’d catalogued that item away in her brain.
“Are you real?” He looked up at her and shook his head. “Or is someone listening to me talk to myself right now?”
She cocked her head, a confused smile on her lips. “Huh?”
He abandoned the books and went to her, drawing her right to him. She had a dot of sauce on the edge of her lip from where she’d tasted it a second ago. “You’re too perfect.”
“There’s no such thing as perfect,” she whispered.
“Oh, but there is. And I keep wondering what’s going to trip this up—what thing is going to jump out and make me realize that there was a giant problem all along that I couldn’t see.”
Something flickered in her eyes, something like worry and confusion and…fear? “You think there’s a problem we can’t see?”
“I don’t know.” He shook his head. “All I know is that I’m not sure how, when I wasn’t looking for anything at all, I found someone who fits me so perfectly. I had no idea I wanted you until you showed up, and then I realized you were exactly the thing I’d been missing.”
Audrey’s lip trembled. “Don’t put me on a pedestal, Ronan. I don’t belong there.”
“Yes, you do.” He touched his lips to hers, and she melted into his kiss. Something clattered to the floor—possibly the wooden spoon she’d been holding—but it wasn’t enough to break them away.
He swept his tongue into her mouth, lips punishing and demanding. His hands glided around her waist and down her back, cupping her round ass. Fire pumped through his veins, need and want roaring like a lion in his head. Yes. It drowned everything out—quieted his self-criticisms and doubts, shooing away the fear that he was broken and unlovable and unfixable.
He filled himself with her taste and her scent and her curves. There was no better antidote to his pain than this.
“Ronan,” she moaned, winding her arms around his neck and meeting him with passion and force. “Shit, Ronan!”
A hissing sound broke them apart as the water bubbled up over the edge of the pot, sizzling as it hit the hot stove top. Audrey scrambled for the dial, turning the heat down and shooting him a saucy look.
“Dinner first.”
He held up his hands and laughed, already feeling soothed by her. Audrey was that presence in his life now—his sunshine, his balm. In three and a half short weeks, she’d become the best part of his day and the last thing on his mind before he went to sleep. Maybe that’s why the whole “girlfriend” thing popped out so easily. Shaking his head, he went to fetch a bottle of wine and two glasses from the cabinet.
“So, about before.” He unscrewed the lid off the bottle and poured them both a glass. Rich, red liquid flowed, and the scent of it mingled