Chapter 6
Hope and Paul sat on the stairs to enjoy their beers.
“I’m sorry she’s so awful to you,” Paul said. “Alex and I feel terrible about that.”
“Don’t. It goes with the territory. It doesn’t bother me.”
“How does it not bother you? We love her, and it makes us nuts.”
“I guess I’m just used to it. I’ve worked with dementia patients for years, and I’ve learned not to take their abuse personally. Most of them are lovely people who, in their right minds, would be appalled by their behavior. I try to stay focused on who they were rather than who they are now.”
“I feel guilty because sometimes I forget who she used to be.”
“Tell me what you remember.”
“She loved to cook and fuss over Alex and me and our dad. They were crazy in love, constantly dancing and kissing and whispering to each other. It used to gross us out when we were teenagers.”
Hope laughed. “I’m sure it did.”
“Alex used to tell them to get a room.”
“And isn’t he one to talk these days?”
“I know, right?” Paul laughed. “Such a hypocrite.”
“I think he and Jenny are adorable together.”
“I do, too, even if I could do with a little less PDA.”
“They’re moving out soon.”
“None too soon, if you ask me. I’ve had to learn to sleep with headphones on or hear things that can’t be unheard.”
Hope lost it laughing. “Aww, poor Paul. How do you stand it?”
“I can’t stand it. I’ll be first in line to move them the hell out of here.”
“Anyway, about your mom…”
“Right,” he said, wondering how he’d gotten off on a tangent, with her of all people, about sex.
“She ran the business after my dad died. Did all the paperwork, managed the retail store, dealt with the customers. We had a good groove going for a long time, and then she started forgetting stuff, confusing one customer with another, arguing with the college kids in the store. I couldn’t figure out what the hell was up with her until one of the kids took me aside and told me the same thing had happened with her grandmother.
She was the first to use the word dementia with me.
I felt like I’d been electrocuted or something. ”
Overcome by the painful memories, Paul took a drink from his bottle and stared out at the darkness. “I asked David to meet me for a beer. He wasn’t the official Gansett Island doctor yet. He was home recovering from chemo.”
“Wait, what? David had chemo?”
“He had lymphoma. He’s in remission now and doing great, but he was pretty sick for a while there.”
“Wow, I had no idea. So what did he say when you told him about your mom?”
“That what she was displaying were classic signs of dementia. He recommended I take her to a doctor on the mainland for an official diagnosis. You should’ve heard that battle.
She accused me of all sorts of things, including conspiring to get rid of her so I could have the house and business to myself. ”
“Aw, jeez,” she said with a sigh. “That had to hurt.”
“It was awful. But I managed to drag her kicking and screaming to the doctor on the mainland who confirmed the diagnosis and put her on medication that slowed the progression, for a while anyway. We lived in a perpetual state of battle for about a year before I called Alex and begged him to come home to help me. I hated making that call. He had a good life in DC, a job he loved and a girlfriend who dumped him when he told her he was moving home.”
“It worked out pretty well for him here.”
“Eventually, but at first he was freaking miserable, and even though he knew he needed to be here, it was tough to see him so unhappy. He hated living here when we were kids. Couldn’t wait to get the hell off this island. So to ask him to come back…”
“You did the only thing you could at the time. He knows that.”
“Yeah, he does, but it still sucked until he met Jenny and became the happiest SOB you ever met.”
“That he is,” Hope said with a laugh.
“I’m glad for him. No one deserves it more than he does.”
“You do, too.”
Paul had no idea how to respond to that statement. Was she referring to the kiss or was he reading far too much into an innocuous statement? Probably the latter.
“Sorry,” she said. “Didn’t mean to make things more awkward.”
“You didn’t.”
“Yes, I really did. I keep thinking about what happened the other night, and how ridiculously out of line I was. It’s so embarrassing!”
Maybe it was the four beers he’d had that gave him the liquid courage to put his arm around her.
Her body went rigid next to him.
“No need to be embarrassed. You’re not the only one who’s thought about that kiss a few thousand times.”
“Oh,” she said, exhaling and relaxing ever so slightly. “I’m not?”
“Definitely not.”
“A few thousand times?”
“At least. Might be even more than that.”
“Oh. Well…” After a long pause, she said, “Is it possible that we’re only thinking about it because we’re convenient to each other?”
Paul laughed at her use of the word “convenient.” “This, whatever it is, is hardly convenient. All I can think about is that my father would skin me alive for kissing one of our employees, let alone wanting to do it again. In that way, it’s incredibly inconvenient.”
“You… You want to do it again?”
“Yeah, and not at all because you’re convenient. It’s because you’re you, and you’re gorgeous and amazing and a great mom and…”
“And what?” she asked, sounding breathless.
He wished he could see her face more clearly, but it was too dark. “Sexy. Really, really sexy.”
“Paul…”
“Tell me no if you don’t want me to kiss you again.”
“I kissed you the last time.”
“This one will be all on me, unless you say no.”
“I’m not saying no, but—”
He didn’t wait to hear the second half of her sentence. Before she could change her mind—or he could change his—he pulled her closer and relied upon instinct to find her lips in the dark. Until he was one hundred percent certain she was on board with this kiss, he only rubbed his lips against hers.
Then her lips parted and her hand curled around his neck, which was all the encouragement he needed.
Paul ran his tongue over her bottom lip, making her gasp.
For a second, he wondered if he’d been too forward, but then her tongue touched his, and he forgot about all the reasons why this was a bad idea and lost himself in her.
Other than her, he hadn’t kissed anyone in longer than he could remember, and he’d never kissed anyone with quite so much pent-up need.
Hope’s need seemed to match his, and she met every thrust of his tongue with her own, driving him slowly crazy. They got so caught up in the kiss that they nearly fell off the back steps, laughing at the near miss. When they broke the kiss, the sound of heavy breathing filled the night air.
Paul found her hand in the darkness. “Come inside for a little while.”
“What about Jenny and Alex?”
“When they said they had stuff to do at the house, they meant each other.”
Hope sputtered with laughter. “How do you know that?”
“Because it’s gotten a lot ‘quieter’ around here since the carpet went in over there.”
“That’s too funny.”
“They’re not coming back here tonight. The coast is clear…”
“Are you sure this is a good idea?”
“No,” he said, laughing, “I’m not sure of that at all, but I’m sure that it feels great to kiss you, and I don’t want to stop. Not yet.”
“I’m afraid…”
“Of what? Not me…”
“No, not you, but if this, whatever this is between us… If it goes bad, my job…”
“I promise you that no matter what happens or doesn’t happen between us, it will never, ever impact your job. You have my word on that.”
“What is happening between us?”
“I don’t know, but I’m looking forward to finding out. Are you?”
“Yeah,” she said softly.
He stood and gave her hand a gentle tug. “Come inside.”
She stood and let him lead her indoors, where he faced a decision—the sofa or his room? Because he couldn’t be entirely sure that Jenny and Alex were gone for the night, he took a left down the hallway to his room, where the rising moon provided a faint hint of light through the open windows.
“Paul,” she whispered, hesitating. “We shouldn’t…”
He closed the door and put his arm around her waist, bringing her in close to him. “Just this,” he said as he kissed her. “Nothing more.”
Her arms encircled his neck and her body pressed tightly to his, making him want much more than her enthusiastic kisses. They stood there like that, in the dark room, for a long time, kissing like two people who’d been starving until they found each other.
Paul walked her backward to his bed and came down on top of her, making her gasp from the press of his erection against her center.
Her fingers tightened in his hair as she dragged him into another kiss.
He wanted to touch her everywhere, to explore the curves that had captured his attention from the first time he met her.
However, he kept his hands flat against her back, because he’d promised they wouldn’t go any further.
That promise wasn’t easy to keep, however.
Now that he’d had another taste of her, he wanted so much more.
He broke the kiss and moved to her neck, where he kissed and licked the sensitive skin there, making her arch into him in silent demand.
Her hands moved down his back, finding the hem of his shirt and then sliding underneath.
Paul trembled from her touch, his desire for her exploding the instant her skin brushed against his. As much as it pained him to stop, he pulled back from her, mindful of his promise not to take advantage of the opportunity she’d given him. But God, he wanted to.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
“Nothing.”
“Why did you stop?”
“Because if I don’t, I won’t be able to.”
She slid her hand from his back to his stomach and then up to touch his chest.
Paul forced himself to stay perfectly still, afraid that if he so much as uttered a sound, she might remember all the reasons this wasn’t such a great idea.
“Touch me, Paul.”