Chapter Twenty-Five
"Do you want anything?" Alara asked, hovering by the door to the family room.
She'd seemed kind of antsy since they'd put Zia to bed. She'd been up to check on her a couple of times, and kept offering to fetch drinks or snacks from the kitchen.
He patted the space beside him on the sofa. "I want you to come and sit down and relax."
She gave him a rueful smile. "Sorry."
"It's okay. Is everything all right?"
"Yeah. I think maybe I'm a little on edge because it feels strange, no one else being here."
He cocked an eyebrow, wondering if that meant she was uncomfortable being alone with him—but before his mind could get hung up on the idea, she laughed.
"I knew that came out wrong. I'm not saying I'm afraid to be alone with you. Well—if I am, it's only because I'm worried I might pounce on you too soon."
He choked out a startled laugh. "Did you just say what I think you did?"
Her cheeks flamed red. "I did. And I can't believe I said it. But what the heck—it's true."
He wrapped his arm around her shoulders. "It is?"
She nodded slowly. "Yeah. It is. But I shouldn't have blurted it out like that." She picked up the remote. "Why don't we watch a movie?"
He wanted to wrap his arms around her, draw her closer, and show her exactly what he'd rather be doing than watching a movie.
But it was still early. She was embarrassed, and a little nervous.
And there was something important he needed to say to her—something he felt he should say before anything physical happened between them.
She rested her hand on his thigh and leaned back so she could look at his face. "Oh no. You're not mad at me, are you? I didn't mess up, did I?"
"No. Alara, don't ever think that. You didn't mess up." He pressed a kiss to her lips. "You made me happy. I'm glad you're thinking about it that way. Don't think I haven't wanted to go there. But I felt like it had to come from you."
"I know, Reaves. You're so good to me."
"I try. But I think there's one thing I haven't been good to you about. And I want to apologize."
"I don't know what you mean," she said with a smile. "I can't think of anything."
"That's because you let it go, when I think you should have called me out on it."
"On what?"
"I implied that Zia's dad was an asshole."
She dropped her gaze.
"I made an assumption, and I was wrong. It was wrong of me, and I'm sorry. I didn't know anything about him. And—again—I didn't want to ask, because I didn't want to push you for anything you weren't ready to share."
"I'm sorry I told your dad before I told you."
He smiled. "That's okay. I didn't know that. He hasn't told me."
"He hasn't?"
"No. It was Zia, just now. She didn't want me to read her a story tonight. She wanted to show me the man in the stars."
"Of course." Alara relaxed. "I should have expected that."
"What makes you say that?"
"Well—because her dad. Jesse. His name was Jesse.
Her man in the stars is something we share.
Something we don't tell other people about—there's never been any need.
But things that have been our little… not secrets, but the things that are just between the two of us?
She includes you in them now." She smiled. "I do too."
"Do you mean like the Rolos?" he asked with a smile.
"Yeah. Like the Rolos. Her bedtime story—tonight’s the first time anyone else has ever put her to bed. Oh—and secret glitter projects. Am I right in thinking the two of you have one of those going?"
He chuckled. "Yeah. Zia gave me my first experience with walking back a hard-won negotiation."
"What do you mean?"
"Well, if she'd had her way, we'd have glittered the entire crop. I talked her down to one special grape. But now, she's made her case, and I've conceded it should be one special bunch."
"That sounds like my daughter."
He watched her face for a moment, wondering if he should tell her how much he wanted Zia to be his daughter too. But it didn't feel like the right moment.
"Do you want to watch a movie?" she asked again, making him realize that he’d fallen quiet for a little too long. He shook his head. "We can, if you want to. But I think I'd rather go out on the terrace. Maybe have a glass of wine and look at the stars."
Once they were out there, he pointed up into the darkness. "See that little curve of stars there—like a crown?" He smiled. "That's Corona Borealis. Dad told me that's where my mom is. It made sense to me—he built her a castle, so I figured she must wear a crown."
Alara curled her arm around his waist and rested her head against his shoulder. "Your dad loves you the same way I love Zia."
"Yeah. He does. Completely." He turned her to face him, resting his hands on her shoulders as he looked down into her eyes. "And—damn, Alara. It never occurred to me before. But no one made up stories like that for you, did they?"
She gave him a sad smile. "My aunt didn't think that way. She didn't make up stories. And even if she were the type, it wouldn't have occurred to her to make one up for me."
He cupped her face between his hands and leaned in to kiss her.
Her arms came up around his shoulders as she kissed him back.
He loved the way she opened up to him—allowing him in, welcoming him.
But there was nothing passive about it. Her kiss felt more like a conversation.
An invitation. His palm rested between her shoulder blades, holding her close, loving the warmth of her soft body against his.
When they finally broke apart, he kissed the tip of her nose. "It makes me sad that you grew up feeling like there was no one looking out for you. Not from the stars, or anywhere else."
"The one person who looked out for me was Jesse.
Zia's father." She kept her eyes on the hills.
"He wasn't my boyfriend, or anything like that.
He was my friend. He lived next door. He was a couple of years older, and when we were kids he wouldn't let anyone pick on me.
He looked out for me." She drew a breath.
"And Zia—it only happened the one time. It was about comfort.
Kindness. And afterward…" She shrugged. "He died in a climbing accident.
A couple of weeks later, I found out I was pregnant.
My aunt disowned me, and…" She gave a small shrug. "The rest, as they say, is history."
He drew her closer. "I hate that life dealt you such a shitty hand. I'm going to do everything I can to make sure you never feel alone again." He held her gaze. "And if you'll let me, I want to spend the rest of my life being the one who looks out for you. And for Zia."
He turned her to look out at the vine-covered hills. "You might not have a man in the stars. But you've definitely got a man in the vineyard who watches over you."
She looked up at him with a smile. "I love your dad so much, Reaves."
He laughed. "He loves you too."
She reached for his hand. "Do you want to stay tonight?"
He squeezed his eyes shut. "I can't, Alara. Don't get me wrong—there's nothing I want more. But I can't. Dad made a rule."
She squeezed his hand and smiled. "I know.
But he made that rule on my behalf. He wasn't banning you from staying over.
He was giving me the right to decide whether I wanted you to.
And I do." She took in a deep breath. "I talked to him about it in the week.
He'd said you couldn't stay unless and until I asked you.
" She shook her head, looking embarrassed.
"I knew that when I was ready, I'd still have to ask his permission before I invited you. "
He tugged her hand and drew her closer. "Alara…"
She nodded. "He didn't admit it. But I'm pretty sure that's why he's not here tonight."
~ ~ ~
When they reached her bedroom door, Alara hesitated. She hadn't thought this through properly. She'd been thinking about it a lot over the last few days—but the practical details hadn't been the ones on her mind.
Reaves tugged on her hand, and she realized she was still holding his. She must have dragged him up here.
"We don't have to do this, you know. We can wait. I…"
She pressed a finger to his lips. "No, Reaves. I want to. It's just…" She looked over at the door to Zia's bedroom. "I didn't think. What if Zia comes in?"
"You're right. We should wait. Maybe until we can go to my apartment, or…"
Her shoulders sank. "I don't want to wait, Reaves."
He slid his arms around her waist and backed her against the wall.
The way he kissed her made her forget all her nerves.
Her arms came up around his neck, and she kissed him back, melting against his warm, hard chest. His hands moved over her back, and she slipped her fingers under the hem of his T-shirt, loving the way he shivered at her touch.
He lifted his head and looked down into her eyes. "Do you think we should wait?"
"No." She looked around, and her eyes landed on the armchair. "I could put that in front of the door. Just a little way. It won't stop her from getting in—she'll still be able to open it. But if the chair's there, at least we'll have a little warning."
He looked doubtful. "Or we could go to my old room."
She looked back at Zia's door. "Let's do that."
When they reached his room, Reaves was the one to hesitate in the doorway. "Do you think she'll be okay if she wakes up and finds you're not there?"
"Yeah." She smiled as the truth of her own words hit her. "She feels at home here. She won't be worried. She doesn't usually wake up anyway. I just didn't like the thought of…"
He smiled. "Yeah. Neither did I."
They stared into each other's eyes for a few long moments. She felt as though she'd used up all her bravery just getting to this point, and now she didn't know how to lead anymore.
"I want you, Reaves."
There it was—the thing she hadn't dared to say. She hadn't believed she had any right to.
His expression gentled, and he ran his hand over her hair. "I've never wanted anything more in my life."