Chapter 11
NOELLE
She was ready to drop until they got on the road.
The night was so nice out that she asked if they could put the windows down.
McCrae did it and slowed his speed so that the wind coming through the open windows moved over her skin like a breeze.
As he drove her home, her mind drifted away toward the photo that West showed her.
“What…” she took in a breath, filling her lungs, “what was her name?”
She blinked back the sudden tears that filled her eyes.
“I didn’t even look. How stupid was that?”
McCrae didn’t turn toward her but he reached out a hand and touched her leg in a gentle brush of his fingers. “Aracely Santos.”
“Aracely Santos.” She repeated the name and then let it play over and over in her head. “I really hope it’s her,” she sighed, “and I really hope it’s not her. I would love it if she was alive, but…”
“But then her family would still be wondering where she was.”
She nodded. “That’s the horrifying part of it. If it wasn’t her they might still have hope.” She cleared her throat and sagged against the door of the truck. “That might be more cruel.”
“It’s hard to imagine what it’s like for her family,” he seemed to consider it for himself, “every phone call… every knock at the door… do they wonder if it’s her calling? Or coming home?”
She closed her eyes but the tears that had been on her lashes were already falling down her cheeks.
Noelle picked up his train of thought, feeling the anguish inside of her heart.
“And when they don’t hear her voice on the phone. Or see her at the door. I can’t imagine what it would be like to get my hopes up and then to feel the gnawing disappointment when it’s not her.”
She looked up and at McCrae sitting beside her. “I wonder if it’s so painful to me because I have a daughter? Is that why this hurts like it’s eating at me from inside out?”
Noelle frowned a little when McCrae pulled the truck off to the side of the road.
There weren’t any lights visible where they were, but when he turned toward her she swore she could see every plane of his face.
Every feature.
Was it her imagination, or did she see the aching need in his eyes that she felt deep in her chest.
“When you were talking about that loss, that empty feeling,” his voice was rough as if it was scraping its way out of his throat, “I saw my sister, but…”
He shook his head, shaking… shaking… shaking… tiny little movements back and forth as if he couldn’t do anything else but that.
“I saw Ciela, too.”
She saw him squeeze his eyes shut.
So tight that she wondered if he’d be able to open them again.
She couldn’t imagine the world without her daughter.
She wouldn’t want to see it.
She didn’t know if she could.
There was a hard click of sound and she looked down to see the truck in park, the engine running, the cool evening air coming in through the vents.
She sat there in the near silence of the night at the side of a road all by themselves.
Noelle felt all of the anger and impotent rage that she might feel if it was her in the position of Aracely’s family.
Her mother.
She heard McCrae’s sharp inhale and then… she heard a heartbeat.
His?
Hers?
She didn’t know.
But it echoed in her head.
And left her feeling… disconnected.
Cast adrift.
Sinking in despair.
A moment later she heard two soft clicks.
She knew what one was.
The click of her seatbelt releasing.
She only knew he’d done the same when he pulled her across his lap.
The steering wheel dug into her ribs, making her grunt with the discomfort.
With one hand, he held the back of her head and laid her cheek against his shoulder. The other, she couldn't see, but she heard the deep, hollow clicks beneath them and the driver's seat slipped back, putting more room between the seat back and the steering wheel.
Then he wrapped both arms around her and held on tight.
She felt his hard thighs underneath her and she could only manage to lift her hand and find his side.
The muscles under his shirt, the bones beneath.
She moved her fingers across those ribs, those muscles.
She soothed him and took comfort from his as well.
The pain she felt inside seemed to ease and spill out from her heart as he held her. The hand at the back of her head moved over her hair, until she felt his fingers move through the curling waves.
"I... I've never felt like this."
She let out a soft sigh only to realize that she hadn't been the one to say the words.
Leaning into his chest, her forehead coming to rest against his neck.
McCrae loosened his hold on her and she was able to fit herself against him, enjoying his warmth.
She sighed and felt his startle when her breath moved across his skin. "I could stay here, just like this."
He moved and she relaxed against him, but instead of melting into his gentle touch, she felt his lips on the crown of her head.
"I wouldn't mind staying here until daylight," he replied, "but I think we'd both have sore backs in the morning."
"Mmmhmm." She sighed. "I bet you're tired."
His laughter was soft, but it shook her at the same time. "I am, but I promise you, I'm safe to drive. I know my limits," he assured her, "but I'd never chance driving you if I didn't know deep down inside me that I'd get you home safely."
She believed him.
She felt the truth of his words in her bones.
"Maybe," she let out her breath slowly, "instead of going home, you should stay over at our house. One less leg of the journey."
He was nearly still against her.
Under her.
"You really okay with that?"
She waited for her mind to second guess.
She waited for her heart to clench or twist in her chest.
Nothing.
Nothing but warmth and... anticipation.
"Yeah." She nodded and felt her cheek rub against his shift. "Yeah I'm more than okay with it, McCrae."
He kissed the crown of her head again. "I want to hold you tonight."
She liked the way he said that.
Liked that he wanted her near.
She could use the comfort of his arms, the deep reassuring rhythm of his heart.
"Hmm..." She groaned a little. "I need your help to get up off of your lap."
He helped her, chuckling as they moved. "I must be crazy," he told her, "letting you get up. Helping you to do it. I might start to wonder if I've lost my mind."
Noelle sat back in her seat and reached over for her seatbelt. "Same," she turned her head to look at him, "but I blame it on years of less sleep than i need with a baby in the house. I'm exhausted."
He lifted a hand and brushed her hair back from her face. "So you're saying we're getting old?"
"Not old," she told him. "Just older."
They laughed together as he turned back toward the steering wheel and shifted the truck into drive.
The house was too quiet.
Noelle opened her eyes and looked up at the ceiling fan hearing the reassuring swish of the fan blades passing overhead.
She closed her eyes and listened for more sounds.
Her mother's clock radio on an oldies station.
The humidifier in Ciela's room.
Nothing.
That's when she shifted to roll onto her back and ran into a wall of heat.
Oh.
Right.
She wasn't alone.
By the time they'd arrived at her house she knew that she'd made the right decision to invite him to stay overnight. His place was almost on the other side of San Antonio from her home.
If he'd dropped her off and gone home to his place, he would have almost doubled back toward his mother's home.
It just made sense to have him there.
It was safer for him.
She smiled at the memory.
She could have lied to herself about altruistic motives, but she wasn't that hypocritical.
When they were on her doorstep, waiting for her to fish out her keys from her purse, she'd told herself that it was okay.
She was an adult.
He was too.
They could keep their hands to themselves.
She didn't even know if he wanted to go... there with her.
Sure, they were comfortable with each other.
They cared for each other.
It was easy to see it.
Easier to feel it.
But those intellectual arguments paled and nearly dissolved as they'd gotten ready for bed.
She'd found the rest of the multipack of toothbrushes that they'd bought at Costco and put out a new one for him on the counter around the sink.
They'd brushed their teeth beside each other, taking turns to watch out their mouthes.
And when she'd reached out to turn off the bathroom light, he'd beat her to it, flicking it down to put the bathroom in near darkness.
The bedroom was dark enough that she didn't worry about McCrae seeing her change.
She dropped her clothes in the laundry hamper just inside her closet and pulled on a pair of light cotton shorts and a tank.
Noelle didn't have to see to know what McCrae was doing.
She heard him unbuckle his belt and unzip his pants.
The soft scuff of his shoes on the carpet. And the soft drop of his shirt, likely on the chair beside the bed. "Which side?"
She was happy he'd asked the question, but in the time since she'd lost her husband, she'd stopped picking one side of the bed over the other.
"Anywhere," she answered him. "I just sleep where I fall."
"Okay then."
She heard the bed sink under his weight.
And heard the soft sigh from his lips as he relaxed into the mattress.
"Come here," his voice reached for her like a touch. "I want to hold you while we fall asleep."
Yeah.
I do, too.
She crawled up onto the bed and moved on her knees toward him.
She didn't have to see him to know here.
The mattress naturally sank toward him and she just followed it like giving into gravity.
He'd wrapped his arms around her and she'd let the warmth of his body soothe her to sleep.
Now she was awake.
The sun was still below the horizon.
And she had the time to consider why she wasn't nervous about having McCrae alone with her in the house.
Alone with her in bed.
She wasn't a virgin, not by a long shot.
She'd been together with... with her husband for a couple of years before marrying him.
They didn't wait until they were married to have sex.
No, she'd been all to eager to see what she 'wasn't supposed to do.'
And she liked it.
After the whole awkward period of refusing to put the lights on.