Yearning for Love Read online

  Nate is fully aware now. He sits up, with a frown furrowing his brow.

  “Corey, I told you that I want to be with you. I apologized for how I treated you at the hospital in El Paso. I thought I made it clear how I feel . . . I want to be with you, sweetheart. I was proposing that we be together . . .”

  “Mr. Drummond, you can take your proposal and leave my room. I don’t want it.” Fed up and out of patience, I get up, stuff my arms into my robe, and open the bedroom door. “Now, out.” I whisper the words so I won’t wake my mother. She knows we slept together, but there’s no need to shove it in her face, especially this way.

  Nate finally gets the picture. Throwing the covers back, he gets out of bed, grabs his clothes and walks naked to his room. Before I start to cry, I softly close and lock the door, just in the nick of time. A huge tear slides down one cheek, as a sob escapes my throat. Pulling my pajamas back on, I collapse into bed, and cry into my pillow, brokenhearted. If he had only mentioned loving me, he’d still be lying here under the covers next to me. All I want is for him to admit that he loves me. This makes my decision about staying here with Mom even more important.

  My breath catches in my throat and I move my hands to my tummy. That last time, we forgot about using a condom. I could be pregnant right now. My cycle has never been very regular, so all I can do is wait to see if my next period comes. Oh, my God, how do I tell Mom, if I am? Now I have to stay up here! I can’t take care of a baby all by myself, and hold down a full-time job, especially if I quit Drummond Oil. I try to go back to sleep, but I can’t stop crying.

  I am standing in my sun-splashed bedroom wearing a beautiful ivory wedding gown with a long veil on my upswept hair. My maid of honor and bridesmaids are putting the finishing touches on my makeup, as my mother comes into my room. Normally so collected, she’s flapping her hands nervously in the air as she looks at my bedside clock.

  “Girls, hurry! The ceremony starts in less than fifteen minutes! The minister is here, all the guests are here, and Nate is waiting downstairs for Corey to become his wife!”

  My maid of honor looks closely at my face and hair, carefully tucking stray strands back into the upsweep, and brushing my cheeks, making my blush look like a natural flush. Stepping back, she gives me a critical look, then nods, satisfied.

  “Okay, she’s beautiful. Where’s your uncle?

  My mom waves outside, where my uncle is waiting. Someone shoves my bouquet in my hand. My uncle takes my hand in one warm hand, tucking it into the crook of his arm and patting it comfortingly.

  “So, are you ready to become Mrs. Nate Drummond?”

  I look into my beloved uncle’s eyes and nod.

  “Yes. It’s been a long time coming, and I’m ready,” I tell him.

  My bridesmaids arrange themselves in front of me. In the room across the hall, Nate’s groomsmen and best man all arrange themselves in order, before leaving to stand at the front of the church. We start walking slowly downstairs in time with the music now playing.

  Ten minutes later, the minister has begun the ceremony. Nate and I repeat our vows, which we have written ourselves. After we express how much we mean to each other, the minister has us place our rings on each other’s fingers, and pronounces us man and wife. We give each other a lingering and loving kiss . . .

  I am sitting in a large, sun-splashed nursery. I’m holding a small baby boy with dark brown curls and azure blue eyes. He’s looking at me solemnly as I breastfeed him, holding him close to me. I brush his closed fist with one finger, and he grips my finger tightly inside his tiny fist.

  I smile as I hear the front door open downstairs. Nate strides in, and I hear his computer case land on the desk, as he makes a beeline for the stairs. He appears in the doorway, looking at Mark Andrew and me as the baby continues nursing.

  “I never get tired of this sight,” Nate says in a very soft voice. “How was your day with the baby? Did he let you sleep?

  “Yes, thankfully. When he slept, I slept. He’s a very easy baby, Nate. When I put him in his crib, he goes to sleep almost right away. He cries only when he’s hungry or needs a clean diaper – or when he wants us to hold and love him,” I tell my worried husband.

  He’s worried because my labor was so rough, but I’m almost completely healed.

  “Oh, before I forget, your mom wants to come to Las Cruces and visit us for the long weekend. She said something about wanting the opportunity to spoil her only grandson. I told her it would be fantastic if she could come,” said Nate.

  “I know. We talked today, too. She’ll be here before dinner time. I was thinking we could either go out for dinner or order something to eat here, depending on how she feels after driving down from Ruidoso.”

  “Sure,” Nates replies, “I’ll leave it up to you and your mother.”

  “How’s it working out with her new assistant?” he asks me.

  “Beautifully. I helped her pick the right person, I’ve found out. Melissa and Juan are great. They live there. and Juan, with his general contracting background, has the know-how to fix things when they break down. Melissa has an accounting and business background, and she’s done event planning, so they’re a great fit for the B&B,” I tell Nate.

  I look down at Mark, whose eyes have not drifted shut. I release his tiny mouth from my nipple,and he gives me a frown as he stretches in my arms.

  Nate takes Mark and carries him to the crib, laying him gently inside.

  “Shall I change his diaper now or let him sleep?”

  “Change him, please. I think he’s filled it by now,” I say.

  Nate quickly and gently opens the tiny sleeper, and removes the diaper, which is indeed very full. He grabs several wipes from the warmer, and cleans his son’s bottom, wipes diaper rash cream on his tender skin, and quickly slips on a new diaper. With Mark attended to, fed, dry and clean, we cover him and make sure the baby monitor is turned on. We walk out of his room, our arms around each other, going slowly downstairs. I kiss Nate softly at the foot of the stairs.

  Nate: I stalk out of Corey’s room, holding my clothes and shoes in one hand. I still don’t know what I did, but it’s a damn sure shot I’m not getting back to sleep.

  Back in my room, I put my boxers on, shove under the covers, and stay sitting up. I’ve got to figure out what I did wrong, because I have very few hours left to convince her that I love . . . Oh, shit, that’s what I did. I told her she was ‘necessary’ to me - that I needed her in my life. But I didn’t tell her, in so many words, that I love her. I guess some words just don’t measure up to others. I wonder . . . if I go knock on her door . . . Nah, she’ll punch me and wake up her mother.

  I spend the rest of the night dozing and dreaming of the entire time that I’ve known Corey. Meeting her when she started working for Drummond Oil as a secretary, then moving up and becoming my executive assistant . . . realizing that she was attracted to me, as I’ve been to her . . .wanting her . . . wanting to kiss and make love to her . . . reading that damned letter of resignation, and getting so angry that we got into that knock-down argument . . . making love to her for the first time in my office . . . realizing, that first time, that she was a virgin . . . inviting her to travel with me to Germany, so I could get to know her better…falling deeper and deeper in love with her, as we stayed over there, in my cabin, then in our hotel suite in Munich…talking to her, getting to know her, realizing that I needed her in my life... but coming to the conclusion that I was with two different Coreys, and trying to encourage the one more open to a relationship.

  Oh, God, now, it gets more difficult. You ever tried soul-searching? I remember the day I got the call from Mom about Dad’s stroke. We ran back to our hotel and packed. I called my pilot, and he got to the airport where we met him. We flew back, then my driver took us to Del Sol Medical Center, where my dad had been admitted. And . . . that’s where I went all “Mr. Drummond,” as Corey likes to put it, on her. When I got out of the car, I was a total emotional mess, but
that is no excuse for not having the decency to turn around and talk directly to her. Even worse, I told her that my personnel officer would be in touch to update her about Dad.

  I followed her up here – I admit that, openly. If I could, I’d shout from the rooftop that I love her – I am madly in love with Corey Temple! However, I realized when I first got here that she was ignoring me, so I made friends with Brenda, and made myself indispensable to her. While I was doing so, I should have also been working on starting a conversation with Corey. I see my mistake, as plain as . . . well, a part of my anatomy that refuses to behave. Instead of just standing off to the side and gazing at this beautiful woman, I should have been breaking down Corey’s anger and resistance, so I could tell her, several days ago, that I’m in love with her. I’m going to let her know I really screwed up.

  Today is January second. I wonder if the package that I ordered will be ready and waiting. I look at the bedside clock again. Damn, just after four p.m. I’ll have to wait until it’s light. Meantime, I’ve lost a lot of sleep here. I doze, seeing all the scenes of my time with Corey, like a movie behind my closed eyelids . . . Then I remember . . . we made love without a condom. I wonder if she could already be pregnant? I feel a smile stealing over my face, as I imagine a tiny, little girl with curly auburn hair and bright green eyes. A daughter, a miniature Corey, would be nice….

  Chapter 8

  Corey: It’s nearly nine when I finally wake up. I stretch and look around, then remember last night’s events. My heart slides down, and I pull the covers over my head, trying to fall back asleep. After ten minutes, I know it’s useless. Looking outside, I see that the snowfall from yesterday has ended, and the sun is shining brightly on the new snow. Growling to myself, I pull on jeans and a sweatshirt. There’s nothing special to get dressed for, so I’m just going to dress for comfort. I go downstairs slowly and find only Mom there.

  “Has Nate woken up yet?” I ask her.

  “I looked outside. His car’s gone. Would you like some coffee?”

  “Gone? Uh, yes, I need some coffee. I have a pounding headache,” I tell Mom.

  “Corey, you look . . . like you were up all night long. Are you okay?”

  I decide honesty is the best – and only – policy. Besides, Mom’s like a seasoned detective when she wants information. Taking a huge gulp of the hot, fragrant coffee, I close my eyes in relief and sigh.

  “No, I’m not okay, Mom. I’m going back to El Paso. I have to go after Nate and tell him how I feel. We had a . . . very frank discussion last night, and while he told me some of what I needed to hear, he didn’t give me the most critical piece of information. I’m not going to beat around the bush with him, Mom. I’m in love with him. If he’s in love with me, we’ll know that. If not, well, then . . . I’ll deal with that.” I decide to leave out the little tidbit about possibly being pregnant. No need to get into that right now! I’m dealing with all I can handle at the moment.

  “Corey, I wondered when you would come to your senses. I could see your eyes moving to wherever he was in the house. His eyes followed you, too, so I think your feelings are reciprocated. I’ll be honest, honey. I like him. He was very helpful in getting all these repairs and work done. He knows his way around a toolbox. He’s friendly, and he’s very good-looking. I’m going to go out on a limb and tell you that I think he does love you. Eat a good breakfast, pack your stuff, and go to El Paso. I don’t know how early he left, but . . . I would imagine it had something to do with that little set-to in your bedroom last night.”

  Oh, shit. I get that tipped head look from Mom again. I really can’t deal with that! I start to cough, and take a huge swig of my coffee. Ouch! It’s still too damn hot! My eyes screw shut against the heat in my mouth, and I flap my hands helplessly in the air, trying to cool down my closed mouth. Finally, the heat goes down, searing my esophagus all the way. I open my streaming eyes and blow out forcefully, expecting to see flames erupting. Mom gets a glass of cold water, and hands it to me.

  “You were both being stubborn about not being the first one to use that universal “L” word. At least she’s not raking me over the coals. I think she knows what we did. I keep looking out the window . . . for what? He’s gone.

  Mom makes hot cereal, and I have more coffee. While she’s stirring the oatmeal, I take out two bowls, napkins and spoons. I set them on the table, and pour myself more coffee, then add sweetener and flavored creamer.

  After breakfast, I go upstairs to wash my face and comb my tangled hair. I pack the few things I brought with me, and bring my small case downstairs.

  “Mom, just in case this doesn’t work out, I’m going to come back. I’ll have no choice but to resign at Drummond Oil. It’ll be impossible to work for him because I love him too much,” I say.

  I give my mom a huge, heartfelt hug. I feel her chin lift from my shoulder as she straightens.

  “Corey, you might want to look behind you,” Mom says softly. As my arms fall to my sides, I turn and see Nate standing, framed by the front door. He looks just as exhausted as I feel, but he has a look of hope on his face. I hear Mom’s sneakers squeaking on the clean floor as she leaves the kitchen.

  “Corey, did you really mean everything you said?” Nate asks.

  “How . . . how much did you hear?” I ask, as my throat clogs up.

  “That, if I don’t love you, you’ll have to quit working for me, and that you’d come back up here to live and work with Brenda, just in case,” he says.

  Oh. He did hear everything.

  “Well, it’s true. That’s what I was trying to tell you last night.” I start getting mad all over again. Not good. “You told me that I’m ‘necessary’ to you, and you needed to have me in your life. But you didn’t say one word about love. If you don’t love me, I’ll quit and find another job somewhere else. Feeling physically worn out, I drop into a comfortable office chair. “Nate, I am in love with you. I can’t hide from it any more. I’ve been attracted to you ever since I started working for you. I tried to hide it from you and just keep it to myself, but it just got too . . . too difficult. Then, when I gave you my letter of resignation, you got so angry. Then we . . . well, you asked me to travel with you to Germany. I agreed, and, being there with you, I fell completely in love with you. I knew it was happening before we went to Munich, then, when we went to that fancy restaurant, I fell just a little more in love with you. When you took me sightseeing around Munich, showing me everything, shopping with me, holding my hand – I continued to fall in love with you.

  “That last day, when you got the call about your dad, and we went back to our room and flew back here, I was so worried about you. You say you’re estranged from your parents, but Nate, it’s clear that you love them. Seeing that, I fell even more in love with you. And then, we landed at the airport in El Paso . . . and . . .”

  “And I totally fucked up. Corey, I have fallen in love with you, too. I’ve always been attracted to you, your spirit, your smile . . . you.” Here, Nate gestures vaguely at my body. “I’ve been fighting it all this time, too. And, when you handed that damned letter of resignation to me, I lost it. I’ll admit that I got very angry because I thought I was going to lose the opportunity to have you in my life – to be around you. Corey, you’ve become necessary to me, because I’m completely, madly in love with you. I want to know more about what makes you ‘Corey’ - your childhood, your experiences, your beliefs and thoughts. What are your family’s traditions? What are your dreams and goals . . . what are you going to do if you’re . . . pregnant?” Nate whispers the last part, as my breath catches in my throat. I didn’t want to get into that! Not yet!

  Nate: I leave the B&B when it’s barely light outside. I had called a day or so earlier to have an engagement ring delivered, and I have to pick it up – just in case. The sun is out, and it’s blindingly bright, so I slip my sunglasses on, as I carefully drive to pick up the small, velvet-covered box. Before I go back to the B&B, I decide to walk around outside,
trying to calm down my pounding heart. When I get back, it’s close to nine. I see the silhouettes of both Corey and Brenda as they eat breakfast. Thank God! She’s still here. I’m walking through the already-disturbed snow when I hear Corey tell Brenda that she’s in love with me. I can’t quite believe it, so I want to talk to her myself. I open the door as Corey is hugging Brenda, who tells Corey that I’m back. Brenda is the soul of discretion – she leaves the room and goes to another part of the house.

  Corey spills her heart. She looks as exhausted– her eyes are heavy, and she has circles under her eyes. She tells me that she’s always fought her attraction to me – I knew I was right! She lets me know that because I hadn’t acknowledged how I feel about her, it was too hard for her to continue being around me, working for me. She gets a bit mad again – she has that same sweet little way of tipping her head as her mother. She brings up the “necessary” and “need to be with her” that I used last night. Then, she says it! She loves me! She’s in love with me, just like I am with her!

  We talk about our first lovemaking and going to Germany, where we really fell in love with each other. Corey talks about being alone with me in the cabin and in Munich, and about the day we got the call about my dad. Then . . . that horrible moment in El Paso, when I screwed up so royally. That’s when I take over, and tell her that I know how badly I screwed up. We talk about my reaction to her letter of resignation. I tell her that yes, she’s necessary to me, like breathing. I let her know that I’ve fallen in love with her too, and that I want to get to know who she is, and what experiences she had that make her “Corey.” Then, the thought that’s been bouncing around like a beach ball inside my skull – what will we do if she is pregnant? Her eyes widen, and she covers her mouth and shakes her head. She looks like a little girl when she does that.

  “Corey, my love, we’ll deal with it if you are pregnant. The idea actually excites me . . . I imagine holding a little girl who looks just like you, and having her wrap me around her little pinky. Because . . .” Here, I reach into my jacket pocket, and pull out the little box. Getting down on one knee, I smile at her, open the box and ask, “Corey Temple, will you please marry me? Take me out of my misery, and make me the happiest man on earth?”