Crush(39)

“We’re here,” Michael said, parking in front of his stately brick home.

“I need to give you the spare garage door opener back. It’s in the Mercedes,” I said, snapping out of my reverie as I opened the car door.

Stopping me, his hand went to the black hose below the hemline of my dress. “I need to talk to you about that.”

In an obvious attempt to remove his hand from my skin, I moved toward the door and turned sideways to look at him. “Sure, what is it?”

“I hate to do this to you, but I’m going to need Elizabeth’s car for the new nanny. Unfortunately the engine in Heidi’s car died, and she’ll need a vehicle to be able to take Clementine places.”

Surprised, I said, “Sure, of course. When did you need it by?”

The careful politeness that had developed between us since the night he asked me to do the unthinkable seemed to be thick in the air. “No rush. Just as soon as you can figure something out. I have to go to work on Monday, but I can shuffle back and forth if I need to, and Heidi said she’s trying to figure something out. I wouldn’t ask, but I’m just worried that if something happens to Clementine, Heidi won’t be able to get her where she needs to. I really hate to throw this at you.”

He had a point. Besides, I didn’t really need a car. The weather was nice and I lived close enough to the boutique to walk. The only issue would be coming to see Clementine, and of course, taking her anywhere, but I’d figure that out later. “No, it’s fine. Let me see if Peyton can pick me up later tonight and if so, I can just leave it.”

“You’re not spending the night?”

“No, I wasn’t planning on it.”

“Oh, I just thought with everything going on today, you’d want to be close to Clementine.”

That horrendous ache in my chest for that sweet girl who’d lost her mother seemed to be moving to all parts of my body. I had to shake it off or it would overpower me. Without explanation, I opened my door and then turned to him. “I’m sorry, Michael, I need some air.”

The sound of my door shutting coincided with his door opening. “Elle, wait,” he called.

“Michael,” someone who had parked behind us called at the same time. I turned back to see a man and a woman who I had seen at the cemetery walking toward him, with a younger man who looked to be around eighteen, possibly their son, between them. The woman had long black hair, the color of licorice. The man had dark brown hair, almost black as well, like Michael’s, but it was graying at the temples. His eyes, even from here, looked icy blue. The younger man was a cross between the man and woman, but he had dark brown hair like the man. All three of them were carrying armfuls of flowers.

“Seamus, you didn’t need to come,” Michael responded in a clipped tone.

Stepping up my pace, I tossed over my shoulder, “I’ll see you inside.”

My body was trembling and I felt like the sky was falling down on me. But then as soon as I opened the door, I heard the pitter-patter of tiny feet and I felt like I could breathe again.

“Mommy!” Clementine shrieked as she toddled toward me.

My heart went into full-on arrest and panic wrapped around me. Snapping my head back, I saw that Michael was still outside and hadn’t heard her. The nanny, on the other hand, was standing in the entrance to the kitchen with a narrowed gaze.

Clementine had been calling me that for almost two weeks now, but never had she done so in front of Michael. I wasn’t certain how to handle it. A part of me loved the very idea that I would get to call this beautiful, precious little girl my daughter. Another part of me knew she wasn’t mine, and that Michael wouldn’t approve. But the biggest part of me was worried he would approve, and that name would come with a price I couldn’t possibly pay. Not now that Logan had entered into my life.

Keenly aware that I would most likely have conceded to such terms before Logan made me feel unbalanced in a way I couldn’t wrap my head around, I never wanted to have to choose between Clementine and Logan. I hoped it would never come to that. I’d tried to explain this to Logan this morning but I just couldn’t get the words out. If he had even an inkling that Michael had expressed interest in me, I wasn’t certain how he’d react. Or maybe I was certain. And I couldn’t take that chance.

Besides, I rationalized, Michael had never openly made a play for me, or told me directly that he wanted me, Not yet, that small voice inside me stressed.

Guilt pricked me for not mentioning my concerns to Logan. I’d been trying to shake my thoughts off as preposterous, but I just couldn’t because they simply weren’t.

As of late, Michael’s desire had been written all over him. It was in his eyes and the way he looked at me, in his lips and the way they parted when he saw me, in his words and the way he spoke them. I think Logan had sensed Michael’s interest in me from the first time we met in Michael’s office, even though at the time, I was completely unaware of Michael’s feelings.

Before now, I had the illusion of his marriage to my sister to hide behind. Now that Lizzy was dead, though, I was worried that once the grieving widower was done mourning, the subtleties would be done, too.

God, I hoped not.

For now, I could handle this. I just had to keep Logan and Michael apart. As much as I wanted to tell Logan how Michael made me feel, it wouldn’t help anyone; in fact it could jeopardize my relationship with Clementine, and she was the one thing I couldn’t bear to lose.