Never Enough by Lauren Dane
She’d warned Adrian about it, putting earplugs on his bedside table. Miles wouldn’t stir, being the layabout he was. But he was used to the noise.
Bach today, she decided. She hadn’t played Bach in a while. She decided this as she opened the front drapes and the sun tumbled in.
Her piano. The sight of it brought a sort of tenderness. The wood was smooth and firm beneath her fingertips as she slid them over the curves she loved so much.
Her very finest physical possession. Gran had given it to her when she’d moved into the house.
She’d thought her days playing on a grand piano like this one were over when she settled in with Miles here. And Gran had shown up with a moving truck one day and the piano delivered the next.
Gillian sat and fell into the ritual of it. Of the weight and sway to discover the keys and feel that upswell of love and connection.
An extravagance her grandmother couldn’t afford, and yet she’d sold her home and all the land it was on. She left San Francisco and had shown up with a house she’d bought for them to live in.
Gran settled into the house and one day Gillian came home to see the piano dominating the space. A Steinway grand piano. A thing so stunningly beautiful she’d nearly wept at the sight of.
She and Gran had argued about it. Gillian had insisted her grandmother return it. It was an extravagance. It had hurt to say it out loud when she wanted to reach out and touch it so badly. But no one else in her life had ever loved her like Gran had and there was no way she could have accepted such a gift.
Gran had told her she’d been saving to buy Gillian a proper piano since she’d first heard Gillian play.
Bach it had been that day.
Gillian breathed in and out and then touched the keys and lost herself in Bach.
As she had those years before when Gillian’s mother had come home to their shitty little council flat and announced their dad was in the nick for killing some teenaged girl he’d been banging.
They’d packed a few bags, not having much more than that anyway, and had ended up living with Gillian’s father’s mother. Gran, who had cut off contact with her son, but who had been trying to keep a relationship with her grandchildren.
Gran, who took them in, and it was then, in those first months she’d been in America, that she began to breathe deeply.
In her grandmother’s grand front room of her ranch-style house an hour or so outside San Francisco, she’d coveted the piano until her gran had asked her if she wanted to play it.
Her mother had smiled proudly. A small bit of affection from a woman who’d at best been a distracted adult who lived with them rather than a mother.
Candace Forrester had possessed many flaws, but she hadn’t been all bad. She’d scrimped and saved so that each daughter could take a lesson of some sort. Tina had received dance and voice lessons. Her sister’s voice had been beautiful. Their mother had decided piano lessons would be best for young Gillian. Pretty girls got tap and singing and Gillian would be good at something you didn’t need looks for.
“You gotta work what you got, Jilly,” her mother used to say. “Show some cleavage. You got yerself a nice pair of titties, girl. Use ’em.”
Tina and their mother had cast off their past and jumped into being American. Her mother wanted to be called Candy now and Tina, just barely eighteen and in possession of a fake ID, had already taken to bar hopping with their mother.
Gillian wasn’t a Jilly. But she was free of the knowing glances and suspicious stares when they entered a store. Free of having to see her father’s name in the papers.
For Gillian, America had been a new start too, but instead of going the way her mother and sister had, which in a sad parody was pretty much what they had back in England, Gillian had decided to make the most of this clean slate.
“G’wan, Jilly, play the piano for your granny.”
“What would you like to hear?” Gillian had asked, expecting to hear Beethoven or maybe Mozart.
“I should like to hear you play Bach.”
And she had.
Now as she played through her Gran’s favorite parts of the Goldberg Variations, she did it on a piano her grandmother had found at an estate sale. She did it on this piano because her gran had sold the one that had sat in her own parlor for thirty-five years to pay for Gillian’s tuition at Juilliard.
Even though Gran had passed several years ago, it felt to Gillian that they were together every time she touched a keyboard.
The doorbell sounded and she started. An hour and a half had passed and she hadn’t realized it. Lesson time.
Adrian couldn’t help but feel nervous as he made the last turn down his street. He wanted Miles to like the house. To like what was his too. Wanted Gillian to like it.
Gillian had tried to sit in the backseat, but he’d said no. Kids didn’t sit in the front, moms sat in the front. They’d taken a little bit of a public step that morning when he’d held her hand, just for a few moments, as they’d been loading into the car. It had felt right, to touch her and guide her, carrying her overnight bag.
Miles hadn’t cared either way where he sat. He’d been talking about manga and anime nonstop as Gillian smiled faintly, looking out the window at the passing scenery. Every once in a while she’d ask a follow-up question or help with a detail or two. He appreciated how much subtle help she sent his way. Knowing her, it was subconscious on her part, wanting to take care of Miles and Adrian both. It felt good to be taken care of that way.
His gate slid open and he wondered what all this looked like through their eyes. The cops had come by earlier to roust the three young women who’d been camping at the bottom of the drive. He knew this because Cope had made sure of it and texted him about it. The last thing he wanted was to freak his kid out, for god’s sake.
Despite the end-of-the-drive issues he constantly had, he did love the house. And he couldn’t deny he wanted them to love it too. Her house was so warm and open, he had to admit he was a little envious and wanted that here for them as well.
“Let’s get your bags in your rooms and get you settled that way.” Nervousness jumped inside him, skittering through his muscles.
Miles unfolded himself from the car and looked around, wide-eyed. “This place is awesome.”
Well, okay, that made him feel better.
He took Gillian’s hand without thinking and she stumbled a bit, but adjusted, keeping her hand in his.
“Glad you approve. Come on in.” He grinned at Miles, who didn’t see it because he was too busy gaping when Adrian pushed the front door open.
“This is beautiful,” Gillian murmured.
He squeezed her hand. “Bedrooms are this way.” He led them up a floor and went to Miles’s room first.
“Holy cow.” Miles paused at the door, dropping his bag at his feet.
“Do you like it? It’s the biggest room here other than mine and I wanted you to have the space. There are other rooms if you prefer.”
Gillian put two fingers over his lips. “It’s a great room. You did a good job.” He took her hand then and kissed it without thinking. Just totally pleased. She looked to Miles and then smiled back at Adrian. He supposed they were “out” about this little romance between them with that kiss. She didn’t seem nervous or upset about it, which did relax him a little.
Miles went into the room, tentative at first, just looking and not touching. Gillian stayed him when he began to speak.
And so he’d watched Miles learn the space in his own precise way. Sometimes so much like an engineer. He examined things and then he looked at them again and began to touch.
When he did finally speak, Adrian was glad he’d waited. The look on his son’s face would last him through a thousand shitty days. “This is awesome. Mum, do you see this room?”
“I did, it’s marvelous, isn’t it? What a lovely view.”
The room had a view of the water and a deck. Adrian had put in a big bed and had built-in shelving and drawe
Erin had supervised it all over the last week when Adrian had to go back to Los Angeles to deal with a number of business meetings with management and label people, accountants and lawyers. He’d told her what he wanted for the room and she and Brody had made it all happen.
Miles threw himself on the bed and laughed. It felt so good, that perfect moment. Adrian looked back at Gillian, liking how it felt to have them both in his house.
“Come on then.” Miles jumped up. “Let’s see your room, Mum.”
“You’re downstairs.” Adrian pointed to the hall on the other side of the second floor, an atrium-type ceiling soaring in an open space sitting between. “I’m over there.”
He led them down and around the corner to the guest room that Ella had volunteered to deal with. At first Adrian wanted to create a lush, sensual room for her with deep, rich colors. But then Ella, wonderful, sweet and insightful Ella, had suggested Gillian might feel uncomfortable with a room like that in someone else’s home until she knew them better.
She’d been totally right. He knew that for sure as Gillian stepped into the room and began to look around. She kept her hands clasped as she moved, but her gaze ate the place up.
Gillian hadn’t known what to expect when he’d brought her into the room. What she got was a delight. Pale blue walls with chocolate brown accents and the very occasional splash of green.
“Do you like it? I’ll take credit for it if you do. But if you don’t, I’ll tell you my friend Ella took care of putting this room together this week when I had to be out of town.”
His quirked-up grin was of the sideways persuasion that always made her weak in the knees. Like hands and forearms, of which his were all manly and tattooed and muscled and it drove her crazy to look at them.
She turned before she went any further than that.
Inappropriate! She shook herself and gave herself a mental slap. She met his eyes in the mirror above the dresser. The bed reflected in between them and she swallowed hard at the look on his face. And then the moment was gone with the next breath and she looked away.
And still, something had shifted between them. Subtle, which is why she wasn’t having a stern conversation with him. The hand-holding and then the affectionate kiss to her fingertips had happened in front of Miles.
She knew it would come, unless they hid their relationship totally, which wasn’t to her liking either. This would be about managing expectations so Miles wouldn’t be thinking something unrealistic like his parents would get married in a week or what have you.
Adrian was respectful to her. Touched her with gentleness and a sort of Old-World chivalrous air. She liked it.
She turned back to Adrian and Miles with a smile. “This is beautiful. Really. You and your friend Ella did a great job.” She wondered who these people were going to be when she met them in a few hours. Wondered if they’d like her or if they too believed as Adrian once had that she was out to get something from him.
“Oh good.” His face lost some of its hesitancy. “Through those doors is a patio. You can follow it down toward the water, or you can head left and get to the backyard. The bathroom is through there, as is the closet.”
She wandered back, through the huge bathroom and into the closet. Drawers, shoe racks, pegs for hats and bags.
“Erin is in charge of all the soap and other foofy gear in the house. It’s just that I’m hopeless and she gets some insane charge out of making me try all this stuff she stumbles across. She used to dress the dog up too. She’s bossy like that. Anyway, there’s all sorts of bath and body goop in the linen closet over there. I have no doubt she and Ella tucked all sorts of female regalia all over the place for you to use while you’re here. If you need anything, please let me know. I want you to be comfortable.”
And there was the charming again. He made her swoon with some of things he said and did.
“Thank you. It’s lovely.”
He shrugged, casting for unconcerned, but she saw the slight blush at his neck. Which she’d been looking at and then wishing she could lick it.
Going straight to hell for this.
They’d gotten settled in and Adrian had given them the tour of the backyard and side gardens. It had pleased Gillian to see the pink bicycle with the fringed handlebars. Balls of all sizes sat in a box on the deck near the back glass doors.
“Rennie, my niece, she likes to head to the park nearby and ride her bike. Miles, that’s yours over there.” Adrian pointed to a brand-new mountain bike. “Of course I got him a helmet and that stuff to go with it. I got you a bike too. You know, so we can all go riding together when you’re here.”
She appreciated his generosity but the level of extravagance made her nervous. For Miles it was more that she didn’t want to suddenly thrust wealth into his life, especially not without consulting her first to work on how to handle it.
Gillian had watched her mother and sister selling themselves short by hitching their lives to men. She made her own way.
A woman who made her own way didn’t owe anyone anything. She didn’t have to turn a blind eye to philandering or a heavy hand with the drink or fist. A woman who made her own way had choices.
“I appreciate that, Adrian.” She paused. “Miles, can you go and change your shirt and wash up? We should be leaving soon for dinner.”
Miles looked at Adrian, sympathy on his face. “Good luck, mate.”
She shushed him and shooed him with her hands. “Get on with it, boy.”
He obeyed quickly.
“Did I make you unhappy with something?”
Of course he looked all innocent-like and she immediately felt guilty for being annoyed. “It’s just that all this is a lot. Do you understand?” She softened her original tirade. “You can’t just spend all this money on him. Or on me.”
“I’m sure I owe you a few child-support checks. I want to give him things, Gillian. I wasn’t there for a long time. I—I want to do for him, take care of him.”
And she got that. She did, and it tempered her frustration and even the fear. “I understand that. And I appreciate it. He does too. But he’s a middle-class kid. He’s got a middle-class life. You can’t—I’m asking you to please take that into account when you buy things for him.”
“You got to give him presents for thirteen years, Gillian.” Adrian began to pace. “All that time I could have been with him at birthdays and Christmas and I wasn’t. I think it’s pretty fucked to expect me to not want to give him the benefit of my wealth. He’s not a middle-class kid anymore. He’s the son of a millionaire. And it’s a fucking bike.”
Having a man, even one who looked and acted like Adrian, use that kind of language when they were angry around her really pushed buttons. “Look, you.” She planted a hand on her hip and pointed an accusing finger at him with the other. “You’ll speak to me with some respect. You don’t use those words when you speak to me. I don’t give a toss about who you are at home or how much you’ve got in the bank. That is my son and I’ve done a very good job at teaching him to value what he’s got and to work for what he wants.”
Adrian lost his anger and stared at her. If Miles hadn’t been around, Adrian would be on her right then. Damn, she was fierce and pissed off and protective of their son.
“Don’t you get that look either.”
He took a step closer. “I apologize. But whatever do you mean? What look is that? Hm?” He nuzzled her neck and she sighed softly, the rigidity of her spine loosening.
“You know the look I’m talking about. Sex won’t get you out of this.” She pinched his side but there was no real effort in it. He jumped back anyway, needing the space to lose the hard-on he could pound iron with.
“I can’t apologize for getting him a bicycle. Or you one. I bought a bicycle for Rennie. And a tricycle for Alexander. Marti has a wagon. I wanted us all to be able
“Adrian . . .”
He wasn’t having it. “No. Look, you and I have something. Something I’d like to follow up on.”
“You don’t even know me. You’re going through a lot right now. You’ll get more accustomed to being a dad and you won’t need me around. It’s going to happen.”
He backed her against a nearby post. “Is that what you think? All this energy between us is just me nervous to be a dad?”
And when her eyes widened and she licked her lips he tasted victory. She could claim otherwise all she wanted. But she wanted him as much as he wanted her.
“I—I don’t expect anything from you.”
He took a deep breath. “I know you don’t. But I expect something from you.”
“Wh-what?” She sucked in a breath when he nipped her bottom lip.
“Do you know what? Finding Miles has taught me to be open to all kinds of great things I never expected. You’re one of those things. I want you, Gillian. And I know you want me too.”
“Miles is—”
“He’s in the other room. Also he’s old enough to know his parents date. And why not date each other? Novel, huh?”
“Let’s take this slow.” She looked him over, suspicion clear on her face. “And you’ll speak with me and at the very least inform me when you plan to make some large purchase on his behalf. Please. I know you want to do things for him. And it is unfair that you missed so much time. At the same time, I think it’s really important he retains gratitude and having to work for what he gets.”
It actually was a reasonable request. “All right. I want to go skiing at Whistler in a few weeks. I have a house up there. Will you both come?”
Before they could speak any more, Adrian heard Miles’s footfalls and eased himself away from Gillian.
“We’ll talk later. Let’s get going to Erin’s.”
He let it go but knew he’d be back to it.
“Are you sure we shouldn’t have brought anything?” she asked him, unsuccessfully hiding her nervousness as they approached Erin’s door.