We’re headed to the door when it opens on its own. A low murmur ripples through the group, and I lift my eyes to meet Mark’s looking directly into mine. My chest squeezes.
“I’ll take Molly down,” Rosa says, pulling her through the doorway.
“Time to resume my charade.” Evie steps forward to kiss my cheek. “Goodnight, honey.”
I kiss her back but Mark’s eyes never leave mine. I know because mine never leave his.
“It seems we’re no longer needed here.” Roland kisses my temple. “Happy birthday, my love, and goodnight.”
Within seconds it’s just the two of us, standing alone, facing each other. I can’t think of a thing to say.
Mark is the first to break the silence. “Happy birthday. I didn’t think I was coming.”
I nod and look down. The funny thing about champagne is I don’t feel a rush of sadness, but I know his words hurt because my eyes are damp.
“I tried to do as you asked and leave you alone,” he says.
“You didn’t try too hard.” My words are a little slurred.
He notices as well and walks over to me. “Are you drunk?” He lifts my chin. I shake my head a bit too vigorously, and he frowns. “Roland shouldn’t let you drink.”
“It was only two glasses of champagne.”
“Baby,” he says as his frown relaxes.
I try to walk away, but I stumble over my own feet.
As always, he catches me.
“Take it easy,” he says as I fight to disengage myself from his embrace, but it’s too late. I know this location too well.
I stop struggling and melt into him. He studies my face a moment before lowering his mouth to mine. With a deep sigh, my lips part, his tongue finds mine, and instantly I’m back in that place of delicious warmth, heat, and desire.
But it’s over as soon as it starts.
He pulls back, stepping away, and shoving his hands in his back pockets. “I’m sorry. I didn’t come here to do that.”
He goes to where Roland left a half-empty bottle of champagne and snatches it up, taking a long drink.
“Why did you come here?” My voice is quiet.
He reaches into his coat. “I got you a present.”
It’s a long, narrow box, and I take it, wiping my eyes with one hand and turning it over with my other. “You didn’t have to.”
“Open it.”
Tearing the ivory-colored paper away, I find a narrow black box inside. When I lift the top, light hits the gleaming brass, and I realize what it is. A small cry escapes my throat as I collapse to a sitting position, clutching my mother’s pen to my chest.
“Oh, Mark,” I say through fresh tears. “It’s too much. It’s more than you can afford.”
“I couldn’t let you part with it.”
Even through the champagne, I feel this pain.
It’s the pain of my heart breaking again.
With a hiccupped breath, I reach out for him. He steps forward, dropping to one knee, and I reach for his cheek. He kisses me, and for a moment, all I know is our lips pressed together, our need for each other.
I close my eyes and rest my forehead against his cheek.
I can’t fight this.
“What happens now?” I say softly.
“Come home with me tonight. We can sort it out in the morning.”
I nod, anticipation heating my skin. My body longs for his, and when our eyes meet, I see the fire burning there. Once more our lips meet, soft and melding together. Our tongues touch, and the heat in my core aches with persistence. A soft moan slips from my mouth to his as his rough hand slides along my neck, his thumb tracing my jaw.
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers, holding my gaze in the moonlight. “I really only came here to say that and give you your present.”
My forehead tightens. “Would you rather I stay here?”
His beautiful smile appears. “No way. I’ve been trying to get you in my bed for weeks.”
It provokes a tiny laugh from me, but the anxiety in my chest hasn’t completely disappeared. I want Mark so desperately, but that threat, that fear is still nudging at the back of my mind. Don’t think about it for one night…
Leaning closer, I kiss his lips once more. “I want to be in your bed.”
His hands are on my waist, sliding under my sweater to tease my bare skin. My lower stomach tightens. Our lips unite again, and I’m growing desperate for more.
“It’ll take me a second to pack a bag,” I whisper.
“Meet me at the back door.”
I hurry down the narrow stairs, wondering how long it will take for me to learn to relax, to stop looking over my shoulder. The room is empty, and on my dressing table is a note that reads, Molly is with me. Enjoy the night. Happy Birthday, Rosa
My worried mind says to go to Rosa’s room and carry Molly back, stick to the plan. I run my finger down the side of the sparkling barrette Freddie gave me and think of my old promise. I think of Mark in the shop, our fingers entwined.
A tapping on my door startles me. Mark must’ve grown tired of waiting.
“Come in,” I say softly.
My eyes go to my small bed, and I remember our first time, the intensity, the heat, the pleasure. I remember his mouth on my pussy making me come so hard I screamed. I can still remember his lined body and how my breath caught at the sight of his cock. Heat fills my panties at the memory, and I hurry to the door wanting him now. We’ll get to his bed eventually…
“I’m sorry to disturb you so late,” Gavin says, stepping into the light.
“No!” I jump back, ice in my veins.
Gavin never visits me, and all I can think of is Roland’s warning.
“Happy birthday,” he says, placing a small box on my dressing table. “I got you just a little something.”
I silently watch his every move, waiting to hear why he’s really here. He looks around the empty room.
“Where’s…”
“Molly is spending the night with Rosa.”
He nods, and looks down. “I wanted to talk to you about her.”
A shuffling in the hall interrupts us. We both look at the doorway where Mark is now standing. My breath disappears, my throat is tight. We’re not forbidden from having boyfriends, but I know when it comes to sex, Gavin expects a cut.
“What are you doing here?” His sharp voice echoes in my small room.
“Sorry,” Mark answers fast. “I was returning this.”
He hands me my mother’s pen, and Gavin watches our exchange with a stern expression.
“Let yourself out,” Gavin says. “I’ll deal with you tomorrow.”
Mark hesitates, but we don’t have a choice.
“Goodnight,” he says softly and disappears into the passage.
Gavin steps out behind him, watching until I hear the click of the back door and my heart sinks along with my dreams. Gavin returns and goes to my table.
“I saw you out with him the other night. And I’ve seen him watching you.”
“Is that so wrong?” Losing my chance at happiness, even if it was only for one night, has me bitter.
Gavin’s mouth tightens. “It’s not very smart. It can cause… conflicts.”
I glare up at him, knowing what he means but unable to argue. Getting involved with a woman whose sexuality is a commodity is a recipe for disaster.