Soon, the world would be a little bit quieter.
Thursday, February 25, 1:45 a.m.
Eve lay with her head pillowed on Noah’s shoulder. Her fingers toyed with the coarse hair on his chest that rose and fell as he slept.
But she was wide awake, mind and body. Noah hadn’t lied. They’d both enjoyed it a lot more the second time. She shivered, remembering, mind and body.
A whole lot more. The first time hadn’t been a dive into a cold pool, as much as a protracted glide. The second time? Most definitely a dive, fast, furious, and satisfying.
She stretched sinuously, aware of every well-earned twinge. It was as if he’d used up all of his slow and gentle the first time. He’d finally lost control, plunging hard and deep, ruthlessly dragging her along for one hell of a ride.
When she’d come, she’d felt alive. Invincible. And when he’d come, she’d watched his face and finally felt beautiful again. Whole. For the first time in a very long time.
And now, in the quiet, she wondered if she’d ever have gotten to this place with anyone else. She thought about Callie’s theory that she’d trusted him because he was “the one.” Perhaps. Perhaps not. Whether that was true or not long term, he was definitely the one for now and Eve felt a gratitude that she suspected he would reject.
Her eye caught a small picture on the nightstand and gingerly she reached across him to grab it, taking care not to wake him. They’d turned out the bedroom lights, so she rolled away from him to hold the picture up to a shaft of moonlight coming through the curtains. It was a woman with a small child and she felt the slickness of the wood, worn smooth by a caressing thumb, and she pictured him sitting in his bed staring at the family he’d lost. Her throat closed and the hope and beauty she’d felt fizzled a little.
He’d never get a family like this again. Not with me.
“That’s Susan,” he said quietly and she jumped. “And Noah,” he added. “My son.”
She pulled the blankets up to cover herself. He eyed the movement, his eyes taking on that blank expression she now knew hid his heart.
“I didn’t mean to wake you,” she said as he sat up, pushing a pillow behind his head.
“I wasn’t asleep. I was just enjoying holding you. It was a long time coming.”
“Yes, it was.” She held out the picture and he took it, his eyes still blank.
“Susan was a clerk in ballistics,” he said. “I’d just finished the academy, and didn’t have a hundred dollars to my name. Somehow, she was still interested in me.”
Eve’s throat tightened. She had no problem visualizing any woman falling for Noah Webster. I did, the first time I saw him. “She was beautiful. So was Noah, Jr.”
He smiled then, wryly. “Noah the fifth. Poor kid.”
His smile loosened the vise around her throat, just a little. “So your mother wasn’t being professorial when she named you Noah Webster. I wondered.”
“My mom can’t spell ‘professorial’ without Webster’s dictionary,” he said, genuine affection in his voice. “She’s a smart woman, but can’t spell to save her life. There’s no actual family connection to the dictionary Noah, other than some great-great way back who thought it was a name with stature.”
“It is,” she said. “And it suits you.”
“It’s my name, like it or not. Mom had to name me Noah, and I had to name him Noah.” He studied the picture with a sigh. “I thought my life was over when I lost them.”
He seemed to want to talk, so she obliged. “You said there was an accident.”
“Yeah. Stupid teenager driving a car packed with his friends, coming home from a football game. The radio was too loud and they were having too much fun. Ran a red light. I swerved to avoid them, skidded on some ice, ran off the road, rolled down a hill.”
He’d recited the story as if it were a police report. “And the stupid kids?” she asked.
“They fled the scene, but one of my friends from the force caught up with them later.”
Beneath the blankets she felt cold and pulled her knees to her chest. “And then?”
“We’d landed upside down and I’d been knocked out cold. When I came to, Susan was bleeding out, begging me to wake up, to help the baby. But it was too late.” He swallowed hard and deliberately put the picture back on his nightstand. “I heard her voice in my mind for a very, very long time.”
Eve’s cheeks were wet. “It wasn’t your fault.”
“No. Didn’t change the end though.”
She rested her chin on her knees. “Winters is like a bad song that won’t get out of my mind. He died in prison. Some con stabbed him in the showers.”
“I know. I’m glad, because I would have been tempted to do it myself.”
He was totally serious and bizarrely that made her feel safe. “The day I found out he was dead, everyone had gathered at Caroline’s, you know, Tom’s mother. They were having a picnic. I wouldn’t go, so Dana stayed home with me. I couldn’t face anyone.”
“Understandable.”
“Perhaps. I wonder what would have happened if someone had shoved me out of the house that day. If I’d have hidden in the dark for so long.”
“You can’t second-guess, honey. Trust me, I did it for a long time. And every time I’d just find myself staring at the bottom of an empty bottle.”
“You’re right. I know that and I’m not blaming anyone. Except maybe myself.”
“Well, that needs to stop, here and now.” He swiped at her wet cheeks with his thumb. “You beat him, Eve. You survived.”
“So did you.”
“Barely, and with a lot of help from my family, but I did. And here we are.”
So where will we go? Eve looked across him to the picture of the beautiful family he’d lost. “I can’t give you a family like you had.”
His jaw tightened. “And I told you that didn’t matter.”
“And I still don’t believe you. You’re such a good man. You should be a dad. I just wanted you to know that if you change your mind… that it’s okay. I’d understand.”
Even in the darkness she could see his eyes flash. “Eve, you are really pissing me off.” Abruptly he slid down, lying flat on his back, glaring up at the ceiling. Then he sighed. “Are you going to sit over there all by yourself all night?”
“Probably not,” she said cautiously.
“Come here.” He waited until she complied, settling her head against his shoulder. “You might decide you don’t want me,” he said pragmatically, although she heard the vulnerability in his voice. “Some young guy comes along… you may decide that’s what you want. We can’t know what will happen, Eve. For now, this is what we have.”
She tilted her head back to look at him. “For now, this is what I want.”
Too many emotions shifted in his eyes for her to read any of them. “Good,” he said. “Now go to sleep. I have it on good authority that you can only live one day at a time.”
She cuddled closer, her palm resting atop the coarse dark hair that covered his chest. She was absurdly happy he had a hairy chest. It wasn’t something she’d ever thought she’d experience, this tickling against her palm, the feel of his heart beating steadily beneath her fingertips. The smell of a man as she nuzzled, satisfied. And she realized she was simply, absurdly happy.
“Eve?”
“Hmm?”
“What was it like to die?”
She lifted her head to look into his face, unsurprised to find his green eyes blank, waiting. “I’m sure it’s different for everyone.”
“What was it like for you?”
Her eyes flickered to the photo. How excruciating to know those he loved most were in pain, be forced to hear his wife’s desperate cries, and be helpless to save them.
“It…” She searched for the right word. “It lured. Come. Rest. I wasn’t afraid, but I was angry. I was only eighteen and I didn’t want to go. I flatlined twice. The time in between I could hear the medics yelling to stay with them and I wanted to scream, ‘I’m trying.’ It was then I became afraid. It was like… quicksand and I couldn’t get footing and it all slipped away again. The second time was harder. I wanted to just rest. But I fought. And I made it back. I hope that’s what you wanted to hear.”