Chapter 30

Richie picked his way around the cobblestones that faded into the beach. After their dinner and Alex’s reaction to whatever it was that she didn’t want to share with him, he decided to give her a little time to get herself together. What could be so bad that she was so incredibly sure that he’d be dust as soon as he heard it?

He couldn’t imagine anything that would turn him off about her. Bad childhood? History with a man? It was so hard to tell. She kept to herself about just about everything in her life. The fact that he was willing to give up part of himself to another person was huge, but to a woman that barely gave him an inkling to her inner workings was stupid. Cosmically stupid, in all honesty—but he had to know.

He was tired of holding back, tired of mistrusting his instincts. He wanted more than just her body or the stingy pieces she let go on an odd moment. He wanted this. He wanted all of her demons to be out in the open. His sure as fuck were. Stuffing his hands in his pockets he headed up the steps.

Alex was curled into the corner of his couch—as usual—a sketchpad in her lap. Her long legs were twisted into a pretzel of comfort as he liked to call it. Her long legs crossed, ankles tucked together as she used her thighs for a desk. Colored pencils fanned from a knot at the top of her head. It amazed him that all it took were a handful of colors and she could make just about anything.

The long line of her neck bent in concentration called to him as he peeked over her shoulder. His house was there on her page. Sketchy and pretty, it seemed like a cottage on the edge of paradise. With just a few angles she’d captured the essence of his home and the water that called to him no matter the coast. “It’s beautiful,” he said, laying his hand on her shoulder. To her credit, she didn’t jump and his cock kicked against his slacks when she arched under the soft stroke of his thumb against her nape.

Her eyes closed as she felt herself move into his touch. [i]Enjoy it while you can you glutton for punishment.[/i]

"Thanks," she settled the pad next to her and fought the sudden case of nerves that started thundering in her heart. "Wondered when you'd get back." Of course he'd have to come back, he lived here.

She pulled away from his touch and stood, making her way to the large bay window. "Lots to think over?"

He sat across from her. "You haven't let me in on the big bad secret that's going to have me seeing just how fast my Jeep can go from zero to sixty."

The beauty of the night outside was lost to her as she closed her eyes. Damn him, when he went for blood he went. No cozying up to a big question with leading ones, oh no, not him. Fingers tightened into balls and she relished the tiny pain her nails caused as they dug crescents into her palm. Turning she forced her eyes open and met his curious gaze dead on.

"It's simple. I'm just not woman enough for anyone. So I've been told. Not artist enough either, but that’s another story. I'm bad news for any man who wants what most men want."

She winced and continued, "You've been beat up enough by those you trusted, so I can't let that happen to you now. You deserve the things you wish for, and I can't give them too you." She turned to walk to the bedroom, knowing she had been clear as mud, but it was clear enough. She was bad news.

"Alex," Richie kept his voice soft, but firm. "Walking away from me isn't the answer. Not to mention the fact that you’re welching on a bet." He knew there was more to her half assed confession, there had to be.

When she stopped in the middle of the room, he spoke to her back. "You're talking to a recovering addict, alcoholic, all around fuck up. There's nothing you've got that's going to scare me away."

She whirled, her back stiffening as anger warred with indignation. "So did not welch on a bet. Told you what you wanted. I'm bad news. So what if you're a recovering addict, at least you're real." She felt the anger leave her, felt the bluster work its way from her heart. "And you can give a woman everything. You act like you have nothing, like you’re a train wreck, all because you can’t forgive yourself, but you have SO much to offer someone. I have nothing to offer."

She straightened and met his curious gaze head on. He wanted it all, fine; she'd give it to him.

He watched her go still, her usually golden skin going pale, and when she turned to stare out the window, her voice a quiet monotone he took a step forward to hear.

“I was twenty four and fresh out of art school. Painting, it was my one love, my obsession. It’s all I wanted, to be the next great Matisse.” She felt the snort leave her, “Anyhows I moved to Soho, had a bit of money saved and decided to just paint.”

“That’s when I met Rafe.”

Richie shook his head, he’d known there had to be a man at the center of things, only love could turn someone as icy cold as his Lex had become. He took a step towards her, his hand moving to settle gently on her shoulder and wasn’t surprised when her shoulders were tight with tension. He leaned in, his lips brushing against her ear as he whispered, “I’m right here Lex.”

She felt the comfort of his touch and wanted to pull away, his quiet warmth and understanding were not helping her get the point across. She closed her eyes and forced herself to stand still and pushed the next words from the pit of her soul where they’d been locked for so long.

“I fell in love, totally crazily in love and before I even realized it I was married to him. Love would only make me a better artist, we’d live off of love and the emotion would make the painting better.” She shivered as the memories flooded her mind, her words moving faster and faster to keep up “All that happened doesn’t matter, but as time went on I started feeling tired all the time, and seemed to always be in pain. Rafe thought I was just trying to get out of hitting the scenes he did, that it was an excuse; that I didn’t want him to make it in the music scene.”

Richie’s brow quirked upwards as another puzzle piece slotted into place. Not only a man but a musician? [i]Please God don’t let him have played the fuckin’ guitar.[/i]

Her head tilted up, a slight smile flitting across her lips for a second or two at the look in his eyes and answered the question she could feel tumbling in his head. “He was a vocalist, and not a very good one, but to me he was better than Pavarotti, and it wasn’t that I didn’t want him to make it, something was going on with me healthwise. Finally I screwed up enough nerve to visit a doctor, and after what seemed like a million tests, the doctor started throwing around words like endometriosis and hydrosalpinx.”

“Big fuckin’ words that in its simplest form mean, no babies for you, not without a lot of grief and a lot of dollars for bigger better fancier doctors.”

“When Rafe found out, it was like some light switch flicked off. From the day I told him things changed. Suddenly I could do nothing right. My painting was wrong, choice of color was wrong, and he let me know it often and vocally. He made sure I understood I had no talent, no promise to be anything ever.”

“Of course every rant held the dig about how I couldn’t give him children, something he wanted one day it seems. He’d laugh and tell me no man wanted a woman that was only half a woman. After he left, I was alone again. Parents gone, husband gone and it hit me. I was meant to be alone. I put away the paint, the brushes and I went out to find a job I could do with the training I had.”

She let go of a sigh then and turned. "So now you know. I'm just not good enough. Not for you especially. Once you get over the forgiving yourself part, you'll want a real woman, and I hope you find her. You deserve that."

Richie lunged for her, twirling her back around until he could clasp each arm. "Don't turn away from me and don't pretend you know what I want or need in a woman."

Hearing her blame herself; the pain in her voice and the longing that seeped through her words made him want to drag her in closer. That wasn't what she needed now. Understanding could come later--when she let him in.

"Lex, just because you can't have kids, doesn't make you less of a woman. I swear it doesn't. This Rafe that told you otherwise is obviously an ass and you're better off without him."

She shuddered as his words washed over her. He wanted another child, he'd said that, and yet he was saying she didn't understand what he wanted?

She felt her eye twitch as a small tic formed, her sigh whispering from her. "Yes maybe he was an ass, I won't even argue that point."

She tilted her head, stubborn until the end. "What do you want then? What the hell can I offer to someone who has it all? My sparkling wit?"

His fingers gathered at the back of her neck, letting all that golden silk free as the pencils scattered around them. "A woman isn't defined by a baby, Lex. You of all people should realize this. Letting one man completely feed your fears for the rest of your life? Is that really how you want to live it?"

He caught her lips in a quick and urgent kiss. "This," he drew her in closer, letting them meet knee to knee, thigh to thigh and chest--no heart, to heart. "That's what matters. Something this good would be enhanced by a child--I wouldn't deny that, but there are plenty of ways to go about that if it was really what you wanted." When she stood stiffly against him, he tried again. Leaning in, he brushed his lips with hers.

"If anyone's a bad bet here, it's me. I wouldn't blame you for running, but I'm not going to give you the push." When her lips finally softened against his, he let the kiss grow.

She lost herself in the kiss, hands winding up to encircle his neck even as the doubts clawed at her gut. Breaking the kiss she pushed back and gave it one more try before she gave in. "I've failed at everything, don't you see? Failed at so much, I don't think I could stand failing you."

"The only way you could fail me is to leave now." He held onto her. "To not even give us a try doesn't match up to the strong woman I know you are."

Her brow quirked upwards as she felt herself actually smile. "I don't think you know what you're asking for there."

She leaned in, pressing her lips to his and let her kiss give the answer her heart had been clamoring for all along the way, the answer she'd fought tooth and nail against yet no longer wanted too.

Stopping them even before they had a chance to start was cheating both of them. And as he fell into her kiss, into the sweet smell of her skin, he hoped that he could convince her that they were worth a try.

She leaned in as he tugged her closer, her heart hammering, as it, for the first time in years, allowed itself to think on the what ifs. What if he was right? What if he was different? What if trying didn’t mean failure this time? What if not having children wasn’t the be all end all she’d made it out to be in her mind?

As those thoughts whispered through her brain, her heart and soul inched into her fingers as they twisted into his hair, and her lips opened to the simple flavor of his kiss. As the kiss ended she struggled to breathe, the very ability to remember how to lost in the darkness of his brown eyes. “Well ok, I’ll give ya that. It’s worth a try.”

Pulling her in tight, he pressed his cheek to her hair. Fear mingled into relief. God, could he be enough for her? He couldn't remember wanting anything quite that much in a long time.

When she locked her hands around his waist and lay her head on his chest, he sighed and let the faith he'd been missing wash over him. Maybe...just maybe.