Five
Beryl
When the gym’s receptionist requests the rest of the day off to spend with her husband to celebrate their confirmed pregnancy test, I’m happy to sit at the desk and cover for her. They’re a sweet couple and will make great parents.
I want more kids and while there’s time remaining on my baby clock, the problem has been finding someone to stand by me during the process.
I’ve done a good job raising Devin alone and my son is everything I could wish for. Except I’d love for him to have a sibling. More of a family than just me and his grandmother.
Since seeing Noah again, the thought of finally becoming the family I’d dreamed about in college consumes the few moments when there’s nothing else to keep my mind busy. But a week has passed and I haven’t heard from or seen him. I know I said I needed time, just not this much. I’d decided to give him the opportunity to explain about his disappearance even before Devin and I got home that evening.
There’s no law saying he needs to make the first move. And no reason why I can’t call the chocolate shop and talk to him.
My excuse is that this is the first week they’re open and probably overwhelmed. It’s late May so summer tourist season has begun. They could be swamped and he’ll have no time to talk anyway. When I’ve taken the long way home and driven by the building—I know, how stalker-like—the store always has customers.
Still, I could call. Text. That’s it, I’ll text and ask him to meet me for coffee. No pressure. He can answer or ignore. Either way I’ll know. I reach for my phone.
“Hey, Beryl.” Phil leans over my shoulder and presses his cheek to the top of my head. Twisting from him, I scoot the wheeled chair away and glance at the door to make sure there’s no one there.
“Phil. We’re at work. What if someone?—”
“I know how to be circumspect, babe.”
My teeth clench at the endearment. He’s been overly attentive the past few days. Ever since Devin’s birthday. His actions make me extremely uncomfortable. If this is the true Phil, we’d never be a successful couple. Even if Noah had never entered my life again, this Phil would never stand a chance.
“Phil, this isn’t working.”
He sits on the corner of the reception desk. “What’s not?”
He truly looks clueless. I need to let him down easy. Then he watches my chest as I take a deep breath and his eyes light up. Screw that. “Us. We are not working.”
“You want to quit your job here at my gym?”
Is he being obtuse on purpose or is he really just that clueless? “No. I mean you and me. There’s no reason to take our relationship any further. I like you, the friendship kind of like. I don’t think… No, I know I won’t ever feel more for you than that.”
The flirtatious ease in his expression hardens. “It’s that chocolate guy, isn’t it? He’s no good for you, milyaya.”
“You know I hate when you say things in Russian.” I cross my arms and glare at him. It’s a tactic he uses to draw attention to himself. To make himself appear more than he is. He may have a Russian name and heritage but he was born in Montana to a couple far removed from their other side of the planet ancestors.
He stands and spreads his hands. “Come on, babe. Things were going slow, but great before he showed up. Give me a chance. Give us a chance. You, me, Devin. We can be a family.”
Phil is offering me security and a stable life. I don’t know if Noah even wants to renew our relationship. Maybe he’ll ignore me like before. I realize I’ve been working on this decision for the past week and my heart and my head agree. The answer is clear. Even if Noah rejects me I need to go after what I want. And that’s him. It’s always been him.
“No, Phil. We can’t. I don’t love you.”
“You could.”
“No, I can’t.” I offer a sad smile as the hope fades from his eyes. He blinks and when he lifts his gaze to me he sighs. “I’m not surprised, Beryl. I could tell at Devin’s party. I can be a stubborn ass and don’t give up easily. That got me to the Olympics, my medals, this gym. Just doesn’t work with you. Someday my determination will bring me love.”
“So we’re okay? You’ll still be Devin’s coach? I still have a job?”
“Yes, yes and yes, Beryl. No one else will be the coach behind Devin Malloy when he takes Olympic gold in ten years.”
“Sharing the glory?” Relief rushes through me. I haven’t ruined Devin’s chances with one of the best coaches in the country.
“Behind every successful athlete is a damn good coach.”
“Thank you for understanding.”
“I don’t understand how you could choose someone else over me.” His strutting peacock-like posture disappears. “No, I do. I can be a testosterone filled dick at times.”
I laugh and finally his smile is natural and real. He is a good guy. Another girl will be so lucky to find him. I step close to give him a hug.
Thankful he doesn’t misunderstand the gesture, I give an extra squeeze.
“Oh shit,” he says. “I’m so sorry.”
Lifting my gaze to his, I take a confused step back. “Why?”
He gestures behind me with his chin and with his hands on my shoulders, encourages me to turn. After narrowing my eyes at him, I do.
Stark pain filling his face, Noah stands just inside the door.
“Good luck,” Phil whispers before leaving the reception area.
Noah’s eyes follow Phil’s exit then jerk back to me. His expression is flat, neutral, hedging toward anger. Honestly I don’t believe he knows how clearly his initial expression exposed him. The college Noah I could have coaxed out of a bad mood, deep emotions were not a part of his make up then.
Or maybe they were but he kept them hidden from everyone until he couldn’t bury them any longer. Maybe that was why he disappeared.
I’m not sure how to approach the betrayal now dulling his expressive eyes. Those eyes mimic what I saw in my mirror every day for months after graduation.
Standing here staring at each other isn’t going to solve anything. And school will be out soon, so our young gymnasts will start arriving for training sessions soon. There’s no way we can talk here.
The intercom buzzes. “Ms. Malloy?”
I frown at the small box on the desk. Why is Phil calling me Ms. Malloy? Noah makes a sound deep in his throat spurring me to action. Oh, I understand. He’s putting distance and a wall between us for Noah’s benefit. I press down the button and bite my tongue before replying in a similar manner. “Yes?”
“I’ve got everything under control for the rest of the day. Why don’t you take a couple hours off and come back when your son’s class is over.”
I glance over my shoulder at Noah with a silent question and after a breath he gives a sharp nod. My tentative somber smile receives no reaction. We haven’t even talked about rediscovering our relationship. Have I lost my opportunity to reconnect with the man I loved? Be able to love him again?
“Thank you, sir. I’ll take advantage of the time.”
“I hope so. One of the coaches will be out in two minutes to take over the desk.”
“I’ll wait outside,” Noah says and strides to the door. I’m pretty sure if the glass didn’t have a pneumatic closure, the slam would have shaken the building.
By the time my replacement arrives, I have my purse strap over my shoulder and anxiety is making me bounce on my toes. Holding the door open for the first of the kids, I search the parking area for Noah because there’s no guarantee he’ll be waiting for me.
My shoulders sag with relief. There he is, leaning against a nondescript SUV. With the afternoon sun behind him, I can’t see his expression to know how to act.
When I reach him I shade my eyes with my hand and peer up at him. “Noah?”
“Beryl, I need to apologize in advance.”
“In advance? For what?”
“This.” He curls one hand at the back of my neck then wraps his fingers through my hair. With an insistent tug, he angles my head and rests his forehead against mine. “I can’t help myself.”
There’s no time to take a breath before his mouth covers mine, his kiss urgent and searching. Another tug on my hair and the sweep of his tongue over my lower lip releases a jumble of sensual memories and I open for him. With slow precision he explores my mouth.
I lift my hands to his chest and twine my tongue with his. The vibration of his approval transfers to my palms and shoots tingles straight to my long ignored lady bits. It was always like this with him, instant desire and need. Rising to my toes I try to get closer, demanding more.
The honk of a vehicle slams me back to reality. We’re standing in the middle of a parking lot. There’s teens and kids arriving. I grab his wrist and ease his hand from my hair. “We have an audience.”
“Yeah, I know,” he groans. “I’m sorry.”
“I’m not.”
He tilts his head to search for the truth of my words in my face. Satisfied, he lifts his gaze to the cloudless, blue sky. “Now what?”
“We need to talk.”
“Where?”
I’d invite him to my apartment, but being alone with him won’t facilitate a meaningful, helpful discussion. I need that before I can go any further with him. A repeat of the past would break me. Now I have another human who depends on me and I will not allow feelings—good or bad—for any man take anything away from my son.
An addiction to coffee kept him going through late night study sessions after we’d… I drag my mind back to the present. “Have you had the chance to try out the local coffee shops?”
His eyes brighten at the mention of coffee and he shakes his head. “Been too busy getting the business going. Where do you suggest?”
“My favorite is Caffeine Beach down on the boardwalk. I’ll drive. I need to pick Devin up here at six, so no problem leaving your car here. Or you can follow me if you’d rather.” Despite how my body still tingles from our kiss, I don’t want to put myself in a situation where I don’t have transportation. I’m not stupid.
“You drive. I’m not very familiar with the town yet. Drove by the boardwalk area once when Tegan and I were scouting locations for the store.”
Decision made, he follows me to my car and settles into the passenger seat with his knees almost to his chin. Laughing, I indicate where the seat lever is. “Sorry about that. Devin asked to ride in the front seat on his birthday. We forgot to readjust the seat.”
“Isn’t he young to ride in front?”
“Laws here say eight year old kids are okay. It was just that once. I feel much safer when he’s buckled up in back. Gives him room to spread out.”
Noah glances over his shoulder at the scattered toys, gym items, and empty snack wrappers. My face heats. I’ve never been good at keeping my car interior neat and clean. Having an active young boy doesn’t help.
“Looks like he’s got the spreading out part down,” he says drily. “My folks hated how I left all my shit in their car. Now my sister nags me about the pile of who knows what behind my front seat.”
He asks questions about the town while we drive, and I’m happy to keep the conversation on safe, neutral topics. Luck is with me and there’s a parking spot in the lot closest to the coffee shop. We order our drinks then choose an outside table at the edge of the area away from other customers. Noah angles the huge umbrella so it both protects us from the sun and increases the privacy of our table.
There’s so much to say, so many questions, I don’t know where to start. I’m sure he’s feeling the same so I anticipate an awkward silence. Instead, he sets his mug on the table and says, “Tell me about Devin’s father.”