Pipe Dreams(15)

Here we go again. "I'm not staying long."

"Well." He cleared his throat. "I don't want to take up a lot of your time, but there's something I needed to tell you."

Evade, evade! Her heart screamed. Last time they'd had a conversation  she'd said too much, then spent thirty minutes in the bathroom crying.  She sure didn't want to repeat that performance. On the other hand, if  she told him to fuck off right now, it would only prolong the drama.

Damn you, Mike Beacon.

"Have a seat," she said, regretting it already. How long did it take to  whip up a Greek salad? Ten minutes, tops. She could stay cheerful for  that long, even if it killed her. "Congratulations on your win tonight."

"Thank you," he said, slipping into the booth. "Felt good to prove we could do it again."

"I'll bet."

He studied her with big, dark eyes, their lashes so thick and long that  they were wasted on a man. "Listen," he said. "You were right. I owe you  a huge apology."

Lauren waited for him to go on. "Okay?"

His fingertips did a fidgety dance on the tabletop. "Two years ago I  made a really hard decision." His dark eyes checked hers. "But the way I  went about it wasn't cool. I'm sorry I shut you out. You didn't deserve  that treatment from me. I'm sorry I made you the collateral damage to  my lifetime of fuckups."

The waiter chose that moment to show up with Lauren's soda. "Thank you,"  she said quickly, taking the glass. She was thanking him for the  interruption as much as for the soda.

She had no idea what to say to Mike. She did feel like collateral  damage. Even two years later, one glance at him made her remember how  quickly her love had been thrown away. Like yesterday's trash.

"Your salad will be another five minutes. Can I bring you anything else?" the waiter asked.

"No, thank you."

When they were alone again, Mike reached across the table, covering her  hand with his. "I just want you to know how sorry I am. I'm sorry every  day, Lo."

She stared down at his hand where it covered hers. They used to touch  like this all the time. Do not cry. "Thank you." I think. "It was a  shock. But more than that, you weren't honest with me. You didn't tell  me how bad everything really was." She took her hand out from under his  and put it in her lap.

"I know," he said softly. "I had so much guilt about the unlucky hand  that Shelly was dealt. First, she gave up a lot to have my child and  marry me. Then she got sicker than anyone her age should ever be. And  Elsa was freaking out. She was so scared . . ."

He stopped talking and Lauren made the mistake of raising her eyes. His  were wet. He gave a quick sniff before continuing. "I thought . . .  either I can be happy, or I can be the man they needed me to be. I had  to choose."

Lauren opened her mouth to argue but then slammed it closed again. She'd  spent a year arguing with him in her heart. We could have stayed on  Long Island together. We could have worked something out. But if he'd  wanted that solution, he would have come up with it himself.

His eyes softened in such a way that Lauren was a hundred percent sure  that he could actually hear her thoughts. "I should have explained  everything to you. That was my huge mistake. But I couldn't talk to you  about it. I was too afraid."                       
       
           



       

"Of what?" Her voice came out as a squeak. "That I'd try to talk you out of it?"

"Yeah, and that I'd let you." Big, liquid eyes held hers. "My heart was with you, Lo. But I didn't feel like I had a choice."

"Why?" It was the one-word question she'd held in her heart for far too long.

"I made a vow." His gaze fell to the table top. "Until death do us part."

Heat climbed up Lauren's neck. "And that's admirable. I get it. But only  one of us became Saint Mike. I spent six months wondering what I'd done  so wrong that made you erase me from your life." Hell, her voice had  gone all high and crazy. She took a deep breath. "I read about Shelly's  health problems in press releases, Mike. I learned she died on Twitter. I  don't know why you thought you had to throw a grenade at my life in  order to make everything right."

He cringed. "I'm really sorry it went down like that," he said quickly. "I owed you an explanation, and you never got one."

Lauren took a deep breath and realized she actually wasn't going to cry.  Because his apology helped. A lot. She'd been waiting a long time to  hear him say these things, and they shored her up inside.

"I will always regret the way I handled things," he continued.

"You said you . . ." Loved me. Hell. She couldn't say that out loud.  "The betrayal really stung. I haven't really trusted anyone since." She  didn't like admitting it. But the truth was she hadn't gotten close to  anyone new in ages-not romantically, and not even friends.

"I'm sorry, Lo." He put his elbows on the table and his head in his hands. "I made a mess of everything."

"Elsa probably disagrees," she said, and then kicked herself for  comforting him. That's not my job anymore, she reminded herself.

He shrugged. "Elsa's had a really hard couple of years. Some days I  think she's doing okay. But then there are times when we've squared off  over something. And she just looks at me like she can't believe the  incompetence of her only surviving parent."

Lauren chuckled, but she was suddenly so drained of energy. And the  waiter set a little shopping bag down on the end of the table, then set  down her check.

"Here." She scrambled for her pocketbook. "Thanks," she said, quickly  laying some cash in the bill folder. It was time this evening came to an  end.

"I'll walk you out," Mike said.

Please don't, Lauren begged silently. She had reached her emotional  overload threshold already. But he followed her out onto the wet  sidewalk.

The rain had stopped, thank god. Whipping out her Katt Phone, a few taps  found her an Uber driver who was just three minutes away.

Mike looked up the shimmering street and sighed.

Lauren followed his gaze, wondering what he saw. They were on one of  D.C.'s many grand streets, full of stone facades and wide sidewalks.

"I like cities," he said, turning to her. He reached up and touched her  cheek with one calloused hand. "I wanted to live in one with you."

"Michael," she said sharply.

"What?"

"You can't say things like that."

"But it's true." He looked down at her, and what she saw in his eyes  stole her breath. His expression was achingly familiar-the same tractor  beam of love that he used to show her all the time.

She got trapped in that gaze, the same way she always had. She didn't  push him away as he got closer. Then his arms were around her and his  face was buried in her hair. His hug was meltingly sweet, and Lauren bit  her own lip just to stop herself from feeling any joy.

He took a deep breath and pressed his lips to her cheek.

If she turned her face, he would kiss her. Instead, she tucked her chin  onto the shoulder of his suit jacket. "What do you want from me, Mike?  You want me to say I forgive you, so you can feel better about the whole  thing?"

He pulled back, his ridiculously handsome cleft chin right in front of  her nose. "No, honey. I'll never feel better. But I was hoping that we  could get to a place where I walk into a room and you don't feel you  need an instant excuse to leave it."

Lauren held very still. They were still chest to chest, and the  proximity was making her a little crazy. "It's not easy to be around  you," she admitted. "Too many memories."

He made a sound in his chest that she felt everywhere. "Well. If it's  never going to get any easier, I'll have to settle for making sure that  we're both in agreement that I was an asshole. Hell, I'll make a formal  announcement over the jet loudspeaker if you want."                       
       
           



       

"No!"

He chuckled. "I would, though. I'd do anything for you. I mean that. If  you need a favor-I want you to remember that I said so. Twenty years  from now, if there's a spider in your bathroom you can call me to come  and kill it."

"I'm not afraid of spiders."

"Okay, a rattlesnake then."

His joke broke the tension, so she tilted her chin up to meet his  smiling eyes. And that's when he kissed her. It was a sneak attack. She  wasn't ready for the soft lips that met hers, or the whiff of beer on  his lips, or the masculine hand that cupped her face, angling her  nearer.

Mine, her body said, pressing closer.