Mistresses: Just One Night. Yvonne LindsayЧитать онлайн книгу.
would be okay. Only it would be a lie, one that neither of them could buy into. Levi didn’t have a wealth of information about Alzheimer’s, but he knew well enough what it was like to live with a disease that couldn’t be cured.
His mother’s alcoholism. At times she was recovering, but the disease itself would never go away.
Shifting uneasily in his seat, he tried to push the thoughts of his mother away. Only the parallel was too easy to draw, especially as his mother was currently unaccounted for. In Levi’s case, however, there wasn’t anything remarkable about that. She dropped off the grid most every time one of her short-lived bouts of sobriety splashed to an end.
BACK at her apartment, Elise dug into her pocket for her keys. Still shaken by the events of the night and particularly the rushed call from her sister when she’d gotten their father back to the house, she dropped them on the floor, then nearly stumbled trying to pick them up before Levi stepped in to retrieve them for her. Without a word he opened the door and, palm low at her back, guided her inside.
Taking her hand in his, he studied her face—brushed his thumb beneath her eye. “You’re exhausted. Let’s go to bed, honey.”
She peered up at him, and suddenly it was all more than she could bear. All the emotion she’d been fighting to control, all the doubts and fears and needs and wants. Everything burst free in a choked sob too great to contain.
Her hands flew to her face and she tried to turn away, tried to hide, but Levi’s hands were on her shoulders, pulling her back into his arms. “It’s okay, Elise. You can cry, sweetheart.”
And she did. She wanted to stop, but the strength of those arms around her were too much to resist. Levi was solid and warm. Capable. And he didn’t back down or back away beneath the barrage of her tears. Instead he gathered her closer—one hand cupping the back of her head while his other arm banded across her body. Soothing her with that gruff, low voice she hadn’t known could be so tender. “Shh. I’ve got you.”
Her forehead pressed against his chest, finding the center shallow that seemed made just for her. “He hasn’t recognized me for months. Every time I see him, he’s slipped further away. I barely recognize him as the man who raised me and—Levi, when they got home, my mom had a black eye. He’d gotten so agitated this afternoon—she said she couldn’t calm him down and it was just an accident, but …”
Levi’s hand stilled where it was, his whole body seeming to tense around her. And then his arms slipped tighter, holding her more securely than she could ever remember being held. “Has that happened before?”
She shook her head. “My dad? Never.” Her throat constricted. “He wouldn’t raise a hand to any of us. Which makes it all the worse. This disease has stolen him from us. From me. Taken the constant he’s always been and turned it into something else.”
“No. What your father’s been to you isn’t something that can be taken away. Your dad may not have the ability to remember it, but you will. He’ll always be with you. A part of you. That relationship is the foundation of who you are. No matter how you build on it, that love is always going to be there. Even when he can’t be anymore.”
Fingers smoothing the fabric of his shirt, she whispered the only words she could manage. “Thank you.”
Levi held her a minute longer, then ducked down to catch her behind her knees.
Cradled in his arms as he carried her back to her bedroom, she peered up at him. “You don’t have to do this.”
“You’re light. I’m strong. It works,” he offered, deliberately misunderstanding her.
“I’m a mess. You don’t have to stay.”
Levi’s chest rose and fell on each breath. His heart hammering a steady rhythm beneath her ear.
“Yeah, I do.” He hit the hall lights before turning into her room.
“I’d be okay.”
“I wouldn’t be.” Levi sat on her bed, his back against the headboard, legs outstretched, arms holding her against him. “I’d worry, wondering if you’d been able to sleep. I’d spend the night thinking about how much better it would have been if I were holding you instead. For now, just let me take care of you.”
Her throat tightened around a well of emotion she didn’t want to try to name and she nodded against him. In that moment, she realized he was everything she’d been telling herself she wasn’t ready to have. He was kindness and understanding. Humor and support. Tender strength and unfailing generosity. The kind of man who would be there for her—if he weren’t leaving in less than a month’s time.
AS DAYS of the week went, Sundays were a long-standing favorite with their slow pace and quiet vibe. Elise worked most of them, usually covering four classes split between two studios catering to the morning crowds, but by noon she was free and clear, and today she couldn’t wait to get home.
When she’d left at six, Levi was still in bed—all naked, stubble rough, and sound asleep—and, more than anything, she’d wanted to crawl back under the sheet and close her eyes. Let the strong arms that had held her through the night close around her again, and give into the bliss of Levi in her bed. Only as tempting as that enormous masculine body was sprawled across the too small expanse of her bed, she knew better than to risk getting within arm’s reach. A semiconscious Levi, intent on getting her body tucked back against his own, was not as receptive to reasoning about work commitments as she might need him to be.
On her first attempted break from her bed that morning he’d offered to write a note excusing her from class. When she’d mentioned a note wouldn’t get her paid, he offered to cut her a check. For a thousand bucks.
Rounding the corner, her smile spread wide and her pace picked up as she remembered the sound of that low growl of satisfaction when he buried his nose in the curve of her neck. Somehow—even with the emotional turmoil of moving her father into a special care facility this week, the hours of paperwork, and nerves running rampant through her family—Levi had kept her sane. Reminded her that she could smile. Shown her she wasn’t alone.
A flash of white caught her eye and Elise squinted down to the far end of the block. To Levi, walking her way with what looked like a paper and pastry bag in one arm and a drink tray with two coffees in the other. She wanted to blame the acceleration of her heart on her hastening steps to meet him, but it wasn’t true. More and more, it was just Levi. Doing things to the center of her chest with his grin, the strength of his arms around her, that look he gave her when she caught him off guard. His candid talk about business strategy, that easy laugh, and the way he made her feel so intensely wanted by somehow finding a way to touch her nearly every minute they were together.
Levi pressed a quick kiss to her lips and held his bounty up for display. “Hey, beautiful.”
The way he said that pushed her belly into another round of acrobatics. “You got food?”
Levi dug into the bag with a nod. “Doughnuts. From the place you like. Let’s sit in the park.”
Elise nodded, always fond of Printer’s Row Park and the small fountain there.
Seated on a bench, he passed her a chocolate-glazed doughnut, napkin, and coffee, then asked about her classes. “Mrs Fitz there this morning?”
Coffee halfway to her mouth, Elise paused. She’d told him about the sixty-eight-year-old eccentric—with form and strength that put hers to shame—weeks ago. And he remembered her name.
“She was.” And wearing one of the skimpiest yoga get-ups Elise had ever seen.
Absently