It was the first time he’d initiated a conversation in forever, and despite soul-shattering sex, fear wicked over nerves he’d laid bare and vulnerable. “I’ll be down in a minute,” she said.
In the bathroom she cleaned up, washed off her makeup, and pulled her hair back in a ponytail. Dressed in a pair of flannel pajama bottoms, a soft t-shirt, and thick cotton socks, she padded down the dark stairs towards the light streaming from the kitchen.
Shane stood in the big room, lights gleaming off the stainless steel appliances and black granite countertops as he popped the lid back on a tub of ice cream. A big bowl of vanilla sat on the counter. He put the container back in the freezer, then poured chocolate sauce all over the mounds of ice cream, added a generous squirt of whipped cream, a handful of peanuts, and maraschino cherries.
Her heart in her throat, Natalie flashed back to one of their early nights together. By two in the morning, a discussion over dinner at his apartment had shifted into an argument that got heated, the dinner dishes abandoned for nails-in-skin, fist-in-hair sex. Afterwards she’d washed the dishes while he made a hot fudge sundae and they’d ended up on the floor, with him feeding it to her. He’d later told her that he’d fallen in love with her that night, because she fought as loudly and passionately as she lived, and loved. Until the chasm widened between them, they’d frequently made up over sex and ice cream.
This wasn’t just dessert. It was a peace offering. As such, she didn’t voice her concerns over the wet spot on the chaise.
Bowl and spoon in hand, he sat down on the wood floor with his back to the dishwasher’s smooth front. “C’mere,” he said.
She settled between his bent knees, her back to his chest, loosened her ponytail so it hung at the nape of her neck and not in his face, then opened her mouth for a spoonful of creamy, sweet treat. The flavors melted together on her tongue as Shane helped himself to some ice cream and she searched for the right place to start.
“I met up with Chris because we’re outsourcing the accounting and auditing functions and laying off another forty people. I wanted his advice on how to deal with the emotional strain,” she said quietly.
The hand dipping into the bowl halted. “Damn,” Shane said quietly. “Where?”
“A few in Tampa and Columbus, the rest in the city,” she said. People she knew, people she saw in the hallway every day who, for the most part, didn’t know they were about to be laid off.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
In those two simple words she heard layer after layer of apology and her carefully-tended list of his transgressions faded, then disappeared. She opened her mouth and accepted the ice cream. “It’s part of the job,” she said after she swallowed.
“Not an easy part,” he said.
Feeling his chest rise and fall against her back, his hips cradle hers, the burden didn’t feel so hard to bear. She let her head fall back against his shoulder and watched the stubble glint on his throat as he swallowed.
“Did he have any advice?”
She laughed. “We’d only been there about ten minutes before you showed up. Did you really think I was telling him about us?”
“For a second I wondered if I’d driven you to that point,” he admitted as he pressed a kiss into her temple, then sectioned off more ice cream. “When I saw you were drinking coffee, I knew it had to be business. Then I realized I had no idea what was going on at your work, and we did have a problem. Then it seemed like a good way to make you snap.”
Indignant, she sat up. “Did you pick a fight with me on purpose, to make me lose my temper?”
He moved both bowl and spoon safely to either side, then gave her a rueful smile. “Yes, but I got more of a fight than I expected. Always unpredictable. I love that about you.” Ice cream dripped onto his thigh; hastily he ate the spoonful suspended over his leg, but didn’t dip into the bowl for more. “On the train I remembered what you told me after our first fight, that you argued with people you trusted. I wanted to know if you still trusted me enough to lose it with me. If you did, we still had a chance.”
“We’ve been to one couples counseling appointment. That’s not the end. That’s nowhere near the end.” She plucked a cherry from the softening whipped cream and ate it, then settled back against his warm chest and accepted another mouthful of ice cream. “I’m sorry I ignored you. Why were you calling anyway?”
“The partner list came out today,” he said.
“I thought it wasn’t coming until next week,” she said, then tensed up as the implications ran through her head. “Didn’t Curt make it? You said he was in for sure!”
“He made it,” Shane said as he scraped melting ice cream from the side of the bowl and ate it. “So did I.”
She swiveled around to look at him, her hand to her mouth. “You made partner?”
“I did.” His eyes were calm when they should have been glinting with victory, but he’d known for hours.
“I thought...you said...it wasn’t supposed to happen until next year!”