Regardless, when he approached, he bent and kissed the older woman on the cheek. She put her arms around his neck, a brief intimacy and eye lock that confirmed their long history. While Julie was sure that journey hadn't always been smooth, the most enduring relationships were like that, weren't they?
"Exchanging stories?" Des said casually.
"Your ears must be burning," Julie said, just as mildly. "She was singing your praises. I'm not believing a word of it."
"Smart girl." Sitting down on the other side of Julie, so he could angle his body toward both women, he cocked his head toward the playground. "They're having a ball. And, miracle of miracles, they're actually helping. Mylo has some good carpentry skills when he's not trying to charm and hustle everyone. You here to enjoy the show?" he asked Betty.
"And to talk to you about these." Betty tapped the folder. Des's hand settled on Julie's thigh, a light grip.
"Let's do that later. I've got a lot to get done here today."
"I'm sure that's true, but we were going to talk about these last weekend. Then during the week. Then Friday."
"No, you thought that."
Betty's expression cooled at Des's edgy tone, but her gaze didn't leave his face. Julie sat still as a stone, not sure where to look. "You want me to do this here, in front of her?" the nurse said.
"No. I think that was my whole point."
"Then you come find me to talk before the end of the day, or I'll find you wherever you are, and I don't care who overhears the conversation."
Des's eyes narrowed. "We've already talked about this."
"We talked about it on the last set of numbers," the nurse said with strained patience. "Not these."
"They don't matter. I'm done here." Des rose. "And I'm betting your lunch break is about done."
"Desmond." Betty's tone sharpened, the way Julie suspected it would when dealing with a recalcitrant patient.
"You're not my keeper," Des snapped.
Julie suspected Betty knew--as much as she did--her sharpness was the wrong tactic to deal with Des, but the nurse's frustration level seemed equal to his. Proving it now, she rose, meeting him toe to toe.
"Closest thing you've got to one," she retorted.
Their antagonistic stance left Julie on the far end of the bench, studying Des's back and a hint of his profile, and the exasperated expression on Betty's face. Having Latin family members, Julie was used to familial conflict that was far more unsettling to those watching than those participating, but this wasn't a casual argument. It might be old, well-trampled ground, but something new had torn up the soil.
As if sensing what lay deeper than his anger, Betty softened, and touched his arm. "Des."
"Not here," he said, his jaw tight. "Okay? I'll look at it. Just...shit. And don't talk to her about this, okay? She's not part of that. No need for her to be."
He said it without looking at Julie, and strode back toward the others, clearly having no desire to engage in further conversation with either woman.
"Stubborn jackass," Betty muttered, then noticed Julie's stricken look. She sighed and pinched her brow. "I'm sorry, sweetheart. We put you in the middle of that, something I'm sure neither I nor Des intended. I didn't handle that well. I forget sometimes that he's a man grown, and doing that in front of you..."
Julie agreed it might partly be male ego, but it was also something larger, something that made her uneasy.
Betty must have agreed, because she sat back down on the bench and faced her. "I'm a good judge of people, so I took you at your word. If you want to be in his life, his health is a very big part of it, and that's the problem. He refuses to accept that being in a relationship means letting someone share that with him. I'm sure if you've become closer to him than most women do, he's given you that message."
"Loud and clear," Julie said. Betty grimaced.
"Yeah. It's debris from his childhood, where every part of his life had to be about this. Even when he realizes he's being irrational about it, it still raises its ugly head. So you have a choice. You can be on the periphery, and he'll treat you like the most special woman on the planet. I'm sure you'll have a wonderful relationship and he'll leave you with many good memories when it runs its course. But if you're okay with that, he'll have no reason to let you inside him beyond it."
Julie thought of those quiet moments together, the raw need she'd seen in his eyes. Maybe she'd gone deeper than most. Was Betty testing her to protect Des? The nurse's frankness in a world overrun by HIPPA rules about medical privacy had startled Julie, but in a quick review of what Betty had just told her, she realized she'd given Julie no real specifics. Betty's information had to do with the man himself, the kind of thing a loving, interfering maternal family member would provide. Perhaps inappropriate, but for all the right reasons.
As if picking up on her thought process, Betty nodded. "You have a special vibe to you, different from what I've felt before from his women friends. If you want to get past the pretty and romantic parts, you're going to have to push, and push hard. It will get ugly. He's a good man, you're right about that. He's also a total pain in the ass and a bully, sometimes a mean one, when it comes to protecting himself from certain things. Like reality."
She rose, picking up the folder, then hesitated. "Has he seemed okay lately? Not fatigued or eating less? Have you noticed him dropping out of sight when you normally expect to hear from him or see him?"
Julie felt a little twinge of alarm, thinking of the day she'd called him and expected he'd be on a job, only to find him sleeping in at the hotel. There'd been other days where he'd come home after work but hadn't invited her over, normally just evidence of a mature adult having a busy life. Yet when they were together, it was as if being apart ten minutes was too much to him.
"Well... He texts me regularly, and my work schedule is unbelievable, so I'm not sure I can make any conclusions on that." She shifted, glancing toward Des. He was pointedly ignoring their section of the park. He wouldn't be at all happy with this conversation.
"Betty, I'm not sure if I'm comfortable..."
Betty waved a dismissive hand, taking another deep breath. "Never mind. I'm sorry. Des and I... He's never had a girlfriend, Julie, and I'll be honest. I'll trample his privacy to figure out if he's taking care of himself. I was sort of the closest thing he's ever had to a parent, and that was nowhere near close enough. He tolerates me, and I love him."
"He loves you too. It's obvious." Julie couldn't hold onto her own distress in the face of the woman's obvious unhappiness. "I do want to be part of his life. It's just, we've only been together a short time. It's..."
"It's too soon for some pushy woman to be talking to you about something this serious. You're absolutely right." Betty gave her a determined smile and held out a hand. "It was a pleasure to meet you, Julie. I think you'll be good for him. If you keep coming over, I hope you and Des will join me for dinner one night. No shop talk between me and Des. I'd love to get to know you better."
"Likewise," Julie said sincerely.
Betty took her leave without another word, pushing the folder back in her shoulder bag and walking briskly toward the parking lot. But Julie noticed there was a stoop to her shoulders that made her look older. Whatever she'd wanted to discuss with Des was weighing her down.
Julie frowned. When she shifted her gaze, she caught Des watching her. A flash of regret crossed his features, but he turned back to the job they were doing.
She thought about just leaving, but she was made of sterner stuff than that. Even if he was avoiding her, she surmised he just needed a few minutes to shake off what had happened and regain his composure.
Accordingly, she took out her tablet and went over Harris's notes for the next thirty minutes. As she did, she kept a casual eye on what was happening with the playground and the kids. When they started planting the perennials, one of the adults waved her over. Apparently, they'd found out she was a friend of Des's and they asked her if she'd like to help. She
was more than happy to do so, and put her tablet back in her car.
By the time the afternoon shadows grew long, she'd helped spread pine straw, edged the natural area with bricks, and contributed a satisfying amount to the shaping up of the park. The activities station and fort were completed by Des and his contractors. The treated wood would be painted by a different group of volunteers and next week another set of contractors would come out to resurface the basketball court. Des thanked his buddies as they headed off for their vehicles. The kids were enjoying the unpainted equipment, so when Julie returned to her bench with a free bottle of cold water and a turkey sandwich the neighbors had brought out, Des joined her.
The lapsed time since Betty's departure had erased some of the lingering hurt their argument had caused her, but he had a guarded look, as if he anticipated her hashing it out. It made her feel a little more guarded herself. However, she pushed past the desire to withdraw, paste on a bright smile and make some excuse to head off. She'd told herself she wasn't going to measure Des any longer against her past relationships. She'd experienced the pain of emotionally unavailable men, but she reminded herself Des wasn't normally like that. She refused to shut down. Instead, she initiated conversation on neutral ground, trusting they'd figure out a way to address the other from there.
"Are you supposed to take your four kids home?" she asked.
"No, their parents are coming get them at six, so I'll hang here with them until then." He paused. "Do you have to go?"
There. He'd given her an out. She met his eyes. "Do you want me to go?"
"No," he said, so simple and straightforward it released the tension inside her. He curled his fingers around hers on her knee, tugging her hand over to his leg after he propped his ankle on the opposite thigh. Lifting her hand, he kissed her fingers. She closed her eyes, absorbing the clasp of his hand, the press of his lips.
"I was an asshole. I'm sorry, Julie. That's why I really don't want you to be a part of that. It's not my best side."
"And here I was, thinking a relationship was all about people being on their best behavior all the time."
His lips twisted wryly. "You should at least be able to demand that for the first several weeks."
"That's considerate," she said, with kindness. "But I need to say something to you, all right? Will you hear it?"
"Of course." But his eyes were wary, and she sensed that same tension in him. She put her other hand over their two clasped ones, back on his knee.
"It's okay to tell me things or not tell me things. I just want you to know you don't have to be in control all the time. I love the Dom stuff and, yes, I have a lot of sub in me, but that's not who I want to be 24/7. When it fits and it happens, it's lovely, over the top, out of this world. But I can be a partner, too."
"I know," he said after a long pause.
"Which part?"
"The over the top, out of this world thing."
She elbowed him, but the teasing helped. He slid an arm over the back of the bench and watched the kids a few minutes, not saying anything. Then he spoke. "I want you to meet someone. Okay?"
"Sure."
He whistled through his teeth, catching the attention of a pale boy with a shock of dark brown hair and striking golden-brown eyes. "Mylo, come here."
When the boy approached, he gave Julie a once-over that had her brows lifting. The kid was maybe twelve.
"Hey, don't be eyeballing my girl," Des admonished.
"Yo, you finally got yourself a hot and stacked lady, dawg. You're learning from my moves."
"And there are countless ones to learn," Des said dryly. "Tell Julie how you explain your pump to the ladies."
"Oh." Mylo lifted his T-shirt, showing her the pump holder on his belt and the injection site. The holder was black fabric with an embroidered set of fangs on it. "I do the Twilight soulful look on them, because I got the Edward hair, see?"
He ran his fingers through it artfully and took a seat next to Julie with a flourish. When he stretched his arm along the back of the bench, it was in front of Des's arm and close enough to press against her shoulder blades. His body canted forward while his eyes delved intently into hers. Julie shot an amused, faintly alarmed look at Des, and he gave her an encouraging wink.
"I tell them 'yeah, baby, this device, it supplies me with blood for sustenance. That way I can be close to you without the need to bite your very fine neck, except for the occasional kiss...with just a touch of my fangs.'"
"And that works?" Julie asked dubiously.
"I have a bunch of Facebook friends, all girls." Mylo straightened to fish out an honest-to-God business card. "You could be one of them. Visit my page, 'Edward Can't Touch This.'"
"Hey, Mylo, come here." The young girl with purple hair waved at him. "I need you to give me a boost on the bars. You're the tallest."
Mylo grinned. "See? Even to the young ones, I'm an addiction." He tossed Julie another outrageous ogle as he rose and made a noise that sounded like he'd tasted something delicious.
"You be good to her, Des-man, or I will."
As the boy headed back to the others, Julie choked on laughter. "Oh my God, who was that kid? His mother so needs to sign him up with a talent scout."
"I know it's hard to believe," Des said deadpan, "but he is a drama student." His expression became droll. "Goes to one of the magnet schools for the fine arts, which is where he gets away with such a cheesy routine."
"Hey, you put that kind of confidence behind it, a cheesy routine can make a girl's heart flutter. Add to that the hair and the charm. Wow. Glad I'm sitting down. My knees are weak."
Des made a grab for one. She scooched out of range and held up a hand. "Now, other than the fact everyone should meet that kid, why did you specifically want me to meet him?"
Des put his arm around her and drew her closer. Now that he wasn't trying to tickle her, she was amenable to it, her hand naturally falling on his thigh. "He's learned to deal with his diabetes and his life in a way a kid would," Des explained. "With imagination, by creating a role for himself. He's able to stay a kid. Though it's not always fun for him, he's got the child wonder thing happening, the belief that reality is still a choice, not a requirement."
His expression became serious. "I didn't have that. I constructed who I was on a flat concrete slab of reality and built who I was there. Rope gave me a place to step outside of that and into an alternate version of myself."
He adjusted to touch her face, slide his fingertips along her shoulder. Though he paused as if sorting out his words, he had Julie's full attention. His voice, when he spoke, was low and honest. Rough.
"When I touch you, it's different. I don't step outside myself. Instead, I go deeper in." He gave her a crooked smile. "I found wonder at last. I don't want to give up that fantasy yet, Julie, especially when I've just found it. It was why I touched you so soon after meeting you. I wanted to make sure you were real. The spider only gave me an excuse."
She looked down at her lap. "You make it really hard for a girl to be pissed at you."
Yet she only half meant it. She was still more irritated than she knew she had a right to be. Or maybe not. She couldn't quite put her finger on it but, as wonderful as hearing his words was, what had happened still bugged her, the way he'd shut her and Betty down so decisively.
"I'm sure you'll manage being pissed at me when needed," he said wryly, as if reading her mind. "I tend to bring it out in women, as you noticed with Betty."
"She loves you. Love can make you crazy." That was probably why she wasn't completely over her irritation, but she tried to shift the mood. She tipped up his bill cap and touched the fading purple streak in his hair. "I think you're wrong. I think you already discovered your child wonder side, just later in life."
"Is that your way of saying I'm emotionally immature for my age?"
She shook her head at him and sighed. "Okay, I can leave it there for right now. But when the time comes, I'll be here, Des. I won't run. I can handl
e it."
"That's just it." He shook his head. "I don't want you to have to."
Crap. Why couldn't he just have agreed? He had to go and push one of her triggers. Men.
"Why?" She got up and faced him, keeping her voice down with an effort. "Why do men have to be so proud? I get that you're a tough guy who replaces roofs for a living. You walk on your hands forty feet above the ground and drive a truck. I've been up close and personal with your balls. I know you have bigger than average ones."
His expression flickered dangerously. "It's about controlling my own life, Julie. I didn't have a mother, and I damn well proved I don't need one. Even if I did, that's not what I want from a girlfriend."
"Would you care to outline my role so I don't step outside the boundaries? Am I not allowed to care about what happens to you? Because whether or not you want to admit it, I suspect your health is a little higher on the list of things your girlfriend should know about than for the average guy."
He went to a full scowl. "The state of my fucking internal organs is not going to run my relationships or my life."
"Your vital organs do run your life, by keeping you alive to live it. If you refuse to acknowledge I have a vested interest in that, that I can be helpful to you, then you're telling me I'm the same as a session hookup you leave at the door of a club."
His brow creased. "Julie, that's not true. You know that."
"Yeah. Mostly." She took a breath, glancing over her shoulder to make sure their argument wasn't reaching anyone else. "I get that it takes time to let someone inside that kind of door, but you're giving me the impression if I expect it to ever open, I'll be waiting a hell of a long time. All because you want to hang onto control of everything behind it."
"I just told you what I want. Why can't I just have this with you for at least a little while, without having to get into all that?"
He was right. But he was also wrong. She couldn't explain why, but she was going to go with her gut, that Betty was right. She doubted Des would have let the nurse be so embedded in his life if she was an alarmist. He lived on her property, for God's sake. That couldn't be coincidental. Maybe it had boiled down to: Okay, I'm going to need someone to help me monitor my health, but I'm choosing the person.