When he talks, my thighs ache. “Then we’d better get back there.” Lightly I push against his chest. He grins and takes my hand. His steps are steady and quick until we reach the entrance to his bedroom. He pauses, faceearnest.
“Aubrey, I respect the hell out of you. I want you to know that. If you change your mind, it’s OK. I’llunderstand.”
Could he be any sweeter? Any more caring? My insides are feeling mushy again. “Isaac, stop talking.Seriously.”
He opens his mouth, but before he can speak I wrap my hands around his neck and quiet him with my lips. His weight pushes me through his door. We swing around as one, so that my back closes the door for us. The lock clicks into place, and then his hands are on me, lifting me from the back of my thighs and carrying me to hisbed.
Our kisses grow deeper, needier. His soft bed envelops my back, his hard front is deliciously heavy against me. He pulls away to undress me. I help him, lifting my hips, arching my back, until there’s no clothing left on my body. It’s my turn to help him, but instead of appreciating Isaac’s beautiful skin, my fear tries to creep backin.
I ignore it and lay back down. Isaac covers me like a blanket. His lips once again meld to mine, and even though I’m insanely attracted to him, some of my attention is diverted to giving my worry a swift kick in theass.
“You with me, Aubrey?” he murmurs against mylips.
He knows me. Somehow, he knows the push and pull, the fear that keeps me running and the desire that brings me back. I’m strong and stubborn, but when it comes to Isaac, I lose all sense. I’m terrified to want him, but I’m even more scared not to havehim.
“I’m with you Isaac.” My words whisper against hislips.
Despite my assurance, I’m caught. Swaying, moving, this way and that, my heart and my brain in atangle.
I’m a kite in a windstorm, and all I want is for Isaac to take me away, to the place we went to five yearsago.
And he does. He wraps his arms around me, slides between my legs, and shows me once again how freeing it feels tofly.
My fingertips sit poisedon the keyboard, ready, but nothing comesout.
I should know this policy amendment so well I can write it in my sleep. And normally, I do. But right now, after that phone call from Lucia, I can'tfocus.
A mother-daughter brunch. This Sunday. To celebrate Mother's Day.An annual event, she'd said. She and Lauren have been attending since Lauren was a smallchild.
It's in the ballroom at the Fairmont Princess.Daytime fancy, she intoned. I Googled it. It's not a technical term, but I figured it out for myself. Skirt, nice blouse. Maybe a jacket that matches the skirt. Something frilly forClaire.
Good thing she chose a pink cast this time. Her previous cast would have clashed with everything. And this new cast isn't even dirty yet, although by Sunday it probably willbe.
We’d gone to Isaac’s office the day before. The front desk girl, the nurse, the x-ray technician, and the office manager—they all know who Claire is by now. I can only imagine the gossip when he told them. Suddenly the doctor they've worked with for two years has a daughter? His desk now holds a picture of a child when it never did before? Even if they're curious, they haven't asked me. They're nothing but kind when we're inthere.
Watching Isaac work is amazing. The way his brows move when he studies the x-ray. He offered me the iPad the x-rays are on, using his fingers to zoom in on the break. The line is hardly visibleanymore.
“We're almost through it.” He'd smiled at me. It felt intimate. When Claire broke her elbow, I was a single parent, scared for my child. Now, nearing the end of this journey, I have a partner to shoulder this withme.
I wonder how Isaac is doing today? I could text him andask.
Or I could write this amendment like I'm supposedto.
Britt stops at my desk, providing the distraction I need from my thoughts. The wording that was elusive comes to me now, and while I'm talking with her I type out the amendment. I forward it on to the underwriting assistant with my approval to increase the limits of thepolicy.
“Lunch?” Britt asks when I hit send on theemail.
“Can we go to the mall? I need to do some speed shopping.” I pick up mypurse.
“You want to go shopping?” She raises her eyebrows and follows me out to the elevator. I’m not a shopper. I orderonline.
On the way down to my car, I explain thesituation.
“Are you ready for something like that? Have you thought about what that room is going to look like?” Britt's forehead creases as she looks at me from the passengerseat.
“Yes, of course.” I start the car and put it in drive. “That huge ballroom will be full of mothers and daughtersand—”
“Full-grown mothers and daughters, too. Not just young girls and their mommies. It won't be like dropping Claire off at pre-school. There will be women your age. With their mothers. And probably some of those mothers will have their mothers with them.” Worry soaks Britt's words. “I just... I don't know how to saythis.”
