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Several months after Out of Office

Brenda

(Zachary’s mother)

Crowds still made me nervous, but with my chin set high and proud, I did my best to look comfortable in the most expensive dress I’d ever worn. It not only fit me but had been tailored to flatter my no longer youthful figure. My son Zachary insisted that only the best was good enough for me, but I would have been just as happy in something simple and off the rack.

As if he could sense my apprehension, Zachary stepped away from Charlotte to come to my side. His head dipped as he asked, “How are you holding up?”

“It’s a lovely party,” I said in a rush.

He searched my face. “But is it too much? If so, tell me now and I’ll take you home.”

Blinking back tears, I forced a smile. “And leave your pregnant fiancée at the celebration of your engagement? I’d never let you do that.”

Without missing a beat, Zachary took one of my hands in his and said, “We’d take you home together. We’re a team. And then we’d either stay with you if you needed us or we’d come back. Either way, there is no party that’s more important than you are to us. What do you need, Mom?”

Gratitude for having him back in my life welled within me, thickening my voice. “You’re everything I need. You and the amazing family you’re building. Yes, I’m having a mini-panic attack, but I want to be here. I love you so much.”

“I love you too.” After a quick glance around, he frowned. “Where’s Paulina?”

I wagged a finger up at him. “Don’t make her feel bad about stepping away. She was with me until a moment ago. She’s always amazing to me, but I don’t need a babysitter. I’ll be fine.”

Thane, my son’s twin, joined us. God, would I ever get used to there being two of them? “Everything okay, Brenda?”

I nodded.

He looked around and frowned, so much like Zachary it was impossible to not feel that he was also my son. “Where’s Paulina?”

With a smile, I said, “This is a big day for her. Her daughter’s announcing her engagement. She should be able to walk around to greet people without having to worry about me.” I squared my shoulders. “And I’m fine. Stop worrying about me. This is a happy occasion. My nerves are still a little fragile, but I’m getting stronger every day. Go, have fun. I’m okay.”

“I don’t mind driving you home if it becomes too much. Ashlee and I—”

Placing a hand on his arm to stop him, I said, “I know. But it’s not necessary. Please. What will make me the happiest is to see both of you enjoying yourselves tonight.”

Zachary and Thane exchanged a look, then nodded in unison.

“I love both of you. Now go.”

Once they’d both returned to where Charlotte was, I let out a shaky breath. My life had been in a constant state of change since Zachary had found me. I wasn’t complaining. I had my son back and that was the miracle I hadn’t allowed myself to hope could happen.

The current good state of my life didn’t erase the journey that had gotten me there, though. Paulina understood that. Zachary did as well. Part of me would always be a little damaged, but I was determined to not let my pain stop me from experiencing joy again. Clasping my hands in front of me, I inhaled deeply and tried to focus on the happy reason we were gathered.

Charlotte was the best thing to ever happen to Zachary . . . and to me. She had a quiet, loving strength we both needed. And they were pregnant. Their future together held a promise of so much happiness. All I had to do was allow myself to be part of it.

“Eat this,” a gruff voice said at my side.

My eyes flew to meet the gaze of a man I’d been introduced to on a few occasions, but whom had yet to do more than greet me. Not that I’d expected him to. What would a man who had enough money to build his own space station have in common with someone like me? The only reason I had a roof over my head that the government wasn’t funding was because my son had stepped in and bought a small house for me near Charlotte’s farm.

I looked around to make sure Walt Bellerwood hadn’t been speaking to someone else.

Impatiently, he held a small plate out to me. “You’re pasty pale and it’s distracting.”

That was rude, but I wasn’t about to say it. I accepted the plate with shaky hands. “Thank you.”

When I didn’t sample any of the hors d’oeuvres, he grunted. “You were fine at Thane’s wedding.”

I nodded slowly.

“Are you ill?” he demanded.

Mentally, maybe. The joke fell flat even in my own thoughts. “No. I’m fine.”

“Clearly you’re not.”

Fingers tightening on the plate, I said, “Please go away.” I handed the plate to a server as they passed by.

“Excuse me?” He sounded surprised, as if I were the first to say those words to him.

I looked away and muttered, “Thank you for your concern, but as I said, I’m fine.”

“I wasn’t the one who was concerned. Scott thought you looked off.”

“Off?” Well, that took awkward to a whole new level. “You can tell your son-in-law that this is how I always look and if he has an issue with it, that’s his problem.”

“Why would I relay a message that isn’t accurate in any way. You are paler than usual and a little sweaty.”

“Fuck you.”

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“You just swore at me.”

“I did.”

“Do you know who I am?”

“Yes, but I don’t give a fuck who you are. You’re rude.”

“People don’t swear at me.”

“I’m sure they do.”

“I’m sure they don’t. I don’t tolerate nonsense.”

“And I don’t tolerate assholes. Not anymore.”

“I’m an asshole? What qualifies you to applying that label?”

“Life experience. I’ve married and divorced more than my fair share of cruel men.”

He took a moment to answer. “Was bringing you a plate of food cruel?”

I rolled my eyes skyward. “No, just everything you said before and after that.”

“You don’t like being called pale and sweaty?”

I inhaled sharply. “Are you messing with me?”

“I don’t like being sworn at.”

Between gritted teeth, I said, “I’m sorry I swore at you. Now, if you don’t mind—”

“I’m sorry I called attention to your hyperhidrosis.”

Shooting him a side glance, I asked, “Is that a fancy word for being pale?”

“No, sweaty.” He cleared his throat. “Technically, it’s an exaggeration of your physical state. It’s a medical term for a condition that can cause a person to perspire enough to soak their clothing.”

I covered my face with a hand for a moment, then met his gaze again. “What are we doing? What is this?”

“You apologized. I apologized. I was asked to make you feel more comfortable about being here.”

“You’re not very good with women, are you?” I scoffed.

He blinked a few times before answering. “I used to be—at least with one woman. She always knew what to say to bring out my best.” His expression hardened. “But she’s been gone a long time.”

Softening toward him, I laid my hand on his forearm. “I’m sorry.”

His arm stiffened beneath my touch. “People don’t touch me.”

I recoiled and broke our connection.

“Touch me again.” He pinned me with a long look that my body surprised me by coming to life beneath. It had been a long, long time since I’d found anyone attractive. I thought that side of me was gone—a casualty of a string of bad choices and too much time alone. Nope, my female parts might be out of practice, but they were still functioning.

Flushing from head to toe, I held his gaze. “No.”

For a moment he seemed to be searching for the words to express himself. “I’m not good at this.” He waved a hand around.

“At what?”

“People. Talking.”

It was a raw admission I hadn’t expected. “I’m not very good at talking to people anymore either.”

He tapped his temple with a finger. “I get lost in here.”

I nodded. “Me too.”

He frowned. “My wife. She used to know how to reach me. When she needed me, she would say she loved me and it was like a wall would fall and I could see her and she could see me.”

“That’s beautiful.”

“She was. All of her.”

I let out an audible breath. “You’re lucky you had that. I’ve been married several times and none of them ever saw me. Not the real me.”

He frowned again. “I did. When you touched me. I saw you. And you’re stunning.”

It was likely he was just saying that to make me feel better, but it was sweet. “Thank you.”

“Do it again.”

“What?”

“Touch my arm.”

It was a strange request, but also one that had my heart thudding wildly in my chest again. “I’m already mentally unstable enough. Please don’t fuck with me.”

“Don’t swear. Just touch me.”

Until then Walt Bellerwood had appeared stern. I’d considered him out of my league even for a conversation. But there he was—flirting with me? When I leaned in just a little to test his response, there was no mistaking the spark of desire in his eyes. He wanted me and it was a heady realization.

Still, he was nothing like the men I’d been with in the past. I couldn’t imagine him asking me to get him a beer from the fridge or telling me that our electricity would be cut off again because he’d gambled his paycheck away. Walt was not just rich beyond what I could imagine, but also cultured and polished. Next to him, I felt like an imposter. What would someone like him see in someone like me? I laid my hand on his arm. “There. Can you see me again?”

He searched my face and my body warmed beneath his attention. The air between us sizzled. “You’re stronger than you know. Simmons tried to break you, but he didn’t. Sit with me at dinner.”

The mention of Simmons brought the ugliness of my past to the forefront as well as my insecurities. “Mr. Bellerwood—”

“Walt. My name is Walt.”

“Walt. I may never be normal again.” There. I’d said my greatest fear aloud.

“There’s no beauty in perfection. I’d rather launch a scratched-up space craft that’s been tested than a newer craft that hasn’t.”

I rolled those words around in my head a few times. “Is that a compliment?”

“It is. I like you.” He smiled and the warmth in his eyes had me feeling beautiful for the first time in—forever.

“I like you, too.”

“Good, because that will make all of my follow up suggestions less inappropriate.”

I laughed. Who spoke like that? “You’re kind of funny.”

“My wife used to think so.”

“Do you still love her?” I’d never been with a widower. The men I’d been with tended to hate their exes.

“I’ll always love her. She’s a part of me. But she’s not here, hasn’t been for a very long time, and I still am.”

The way he said that touched my heart. He’d also known pain and loss.

He continued, “When I’m alone too much the people I love say they can’t reach me. I don’t know how to take down the wall without her.”

I glanced down at my hand on his arm. “Is it down now?”

“Is it too soon for the truth?”

“Well, you’ve already called me sweaty and pasty. So, no.”

“It’s down and no one since my wife has achieved that. I want you and not just in my bed. I can see us together—here and in space.”

I swallowed hard. “In space? I’ve never even been on a plane.”

“I’ll take you everywhere you want to go.” The intensity in his gaze was both unsettling and exciting as hell.

Could this be happening? I kept waiting for him to give some clue that he was joking, but he didn’t. “That’s quite a lot to offer straight out of the gate. Why don’t we start with sitting together at dinner and see how that goes? Then maybe a date?”

“A date. Yes. I should woo you.”

“Woo me?”

“Jewelry. Cars. Vacations. What do you want?”

I tipped my head to the side. What did I want? “I want to not be a burden for my son. I want to be strong enough to be there for him when he needs me and to be a good grandmother to my future grandchild. That’s what I want more than anything else.”

He laid his hand over mine. “Do you feel strong right now?”

I nodded. “I do.” How odd was that? I didn’t know him, but that wasn’t as important as the connection I felt to him.

“Then you should move in with me. I need this. I need you.”

My eyes rounded. “That’s not how relationships work. You don’t just decide to be in one.”

“Haven’t you failed at several marriages?”

“Ouch.” I tried to pull my hand away, but he held it there.

“I don’t care about your past. Let it go, but learn from it. In and out of bed, I’m confident I could make you happy.”

“Wow, you’re not shy, are you?”

“Nor am I afraid of a challenge. I’ve already decided to make you mine, Brenda Danford. The rest is purely negotiation.”

“You just met me.” Shaking my head, I said, “What could we possibly have in common?”

“Our goals are the same. I want you to be strong enough to be there for your son when he needs you and for you to be a good grandmother to your grandchildren. When you touch me, I see that for you. I see me helping you have that.”

“And sex. You see sex,” I blurted and groaned. What was I doing? Was I actually considering this?

“I do.” His smile was sinfully sexy. “Preferably, a lot of it. Here on earth and up in space.”

My hand shook beneath his and I blushed. “In space? Is that even possible?”

“I’ll design whatever technology is necessary to make it good.”

That was kind of hot. “Walt?”

“Yes?”

“Is this real? What happens if I stop touching you? Will you stop seeing me? All that stuff about wanting me—does it go away?”

“I thought you were stunning from the very first moment I saw you. Beauty isn’t enough, though. Often the thoughts in my head are louder than the voices around me. With my work it doesn’t matter because I can make demands and people follow my orders. No one wonders how I feel. I’ve avoided romantic relationships since my wife because when the wall is up, people say I’m cold to them. I don’t notice if someone is upset. I’m there, but they’re not.”

My heart ached for him. “It’s like you’re trapped inside yourself.”

“Yes.”

“I know that feeling.” After years of therapy designed to convince me that what I knew wasn’t true, I’d not only lost my ability to trust others—but also myself. It had made connecting with anyone difficult. Despite having people around me nearly all the time, I’d often still felt alone. It wasn’t like that with Walt. When he looked at me it was as if he could see right through all of my defenses and insecurities—to me.

“I’m not letting you go, Brenda. You have my attention now and if you want anything from me, all you have to do is—”

“Touch you?” I looked away then back, still trying to wrap my head around our connection. “On your arm?”

“Or wherever.” Humor lit his eyes.

That brought a smile back to my lips. “This is crazy.”

“Every good idea starts off feeling that way.”

An announcement was made that we should move into the next room where dinner would be served. “I’ll be your date for dinner.”

“You’ll be more than that,” he said, then winked. “But I’m willing to start with dinner.”