A half hour later, she came down the stairs, having changed into flannel pants and a tank top. Her mouth dropped into a surprised O when she saw me. “I thought you’d left.”
“Nope. Sit.” I patted the couch next to me and looked away from the swells of her breasts that were lifted high along the neckline of her tank top.
She sank into the corner of the couch, bringing her knees up to her chest. “I bet you’re pretty curious about what happened outside the pizza shop.”
“Talk.”
She rested her chin on her folded arms and took a deep breath. “Those were Jeff’s parents.”
“So I assumed.”
Her eyes lifted to mine.
“You’re just like Ryan when you do that, make conclusions about everything around you. People, too.”
“Keeps us alive,” I responded before I thought. My eyes slid shut momentarily at the blunder and the pain that followed. “You know what I mean.”
She nodded. “They’ve never seen the kids before. Never even asked about them.”
I knew most of that. Scratch that. Chaos knew. But I wanted Ella to tell me, Beckett. To trust me as much as she had that faceless pen pal. So instead of lying, or asking her to continue, I simply waited.
“Jeff walked out when I was eight weeks pregnant.” She looked away, her face falling as she stepped into the memory. “He hadn’t wanted to get married, not really. It was all very Meatloaf.”
“What?” I rested my arm on the back of the couch and leaned in. “Like the food?”
“Like the artist. You know, ‘Paradise by the Dashboard Light’?”
“Ah, gotcha. No ring, no sex.”
“Bingo. We’d been together all senior year, and looking back, when I caught him lying about smoking—smoking of all things to lie about!—I should have walked away, but I was lost in that naive love-can-change-him mentality. Anyway, we were leaving for CU in the fall, and it all seemed really romantic. Run away and get married the day after graduation, have our wedding night in a hotel, and spring it on my grandma and his parents the next day.”
“I’m guessing that went over real well.” I hadn’t seen an ounce of mercy in that guy, which never made for a good parent.
“Like a ton of bricks. Grandma cried.” She swallowed and took a moment. “His parents disowned him, and we moved into one of the cabins for the summer, which were more camp-style than the ones you see now. Grandma was disappointed, but that never changed her love or her promise to pay for my college. Jeff was so sad after that first week. Honeymoon was over, I guess you’d say, and now he was stressed about how he was going to pay his tuition, and everything just spiraled. He’d gone from trust-fund baby to broke overnight. Four weeks after our little trip to the courthouse, I realized I was pregnant, and two weeks later, the doctor told me I was having twins.”
I tried to put myself in her position at that age and couldn’t. At eighteen, I’d enlisted in the military and was barely capable of caring for myself, let alone two other humans. “You’re incredibly strong.”
She shook her head. “No, because the minute the doc did that wand ultrasound after the blood tests, I had this moment where I regretted everything. Everything,” she repeated in an instant.
“You were young; I can’t imagine there’s any young woman in your position who wouldn’t panic.”
“I was eighteen and married to a guy who didn’t like to look at me anymore, well, unless I was naked. And even then…sex…” She shrugged. “Well, I guess it served its purpose. I told him the minute I got home, thinking he’d know what to do. He always had the plans, you know?”
“What did he do?”
“He sat there for a moment in shock, and I understood. After all, I felt the same way. Then he…he asked me to abort them.”
My nails dug into the back of the couch, but I didn’t say a word.
“And it was in that instant, when that choice was put on the table, that the shock faded, and I knew I wanted them. That there was nothing I wouldn’t do to protect them. That’s when I realized that I’d loved the person he pretended to be: strong, loyal, caring, protective…and it was all a giant lie. He put on a great act, but he wasn’t some big, strong man who was going to carry me away to college and build this amazing life. He was a scared little boy who couldn’t put anyone else first, and that included me. And there I was, realizing I’d die for the twins, and he wanted me to kill them because they were inconvenient, and so was I. I refused. He threatened. I refused. He was gone the next morning.”
“I’m so sorry you had to go through that.”
She shrugged. “It is what it is, and it taught me to never trust a liar. You lie once, chances are you’ll do it again and again. Anyway, Jeff’s dad showed up a week later with a big, fat check and divorce papers, telling me I could have the first when I proved I was no longer pregnant.”
“Are you kidding me?” I growled. Now I wanted the asshole back in front of me, wanted that scrawny neck wrapped between my hands.
“Nope. So I signed the papers, snatched the check from his hand, and set it on fire right in front of him.”
That’s my girl.
“Nice. Very visual.”
“Yeah, well, I was a little dramatic, and ended up burning that cabin to the ground. Literally. Everything was gone.”
“So don’t leave you alone with a lighter, that’s what you’re saying? No barbecue grill, no s’mores, no fireworks?”
She laughed, lightening the mood, but I still wanted to strangle everyone in that damn family.
“And you stayed in Telluride and raised the kids,” I assumed.
She nodded. “Yep. Jeff never came back. Not once. Patty and Rich bought a place in Denver, but they still come back at holidays, as you saw today. But they’ve never seen the kids. Never asked to, at least, when they’d run into me. Even when I asked them for help with the insurance for Maisie, Rich said that the kids weren’t their problem. I won’t make the mistake of asking for help again.”
“I’m not sure they deserve to see the kids.”
“Me either, but I worry that Maisie might not get the chance if she wants it, you know? I mean, one day, they’ll grow up. They’ll ask deeper questions and seek out their own answers. And Maisie…” She buried her face in her hands.
I slid forward, until the tips of her toes grazed the outside of my thigh. Then I gently took her hands away, almost hoping she was crying, that she’d learned to release that pressure valve at a steadier, easier rate than during Maisie’s surgery.
But there were no tears, just a well of sorrow so deep it would drown an ordinary soul. But Ella was no ordinary soul.
“Maisie will have time to make her choice.” I had no right, but the thought wouldn’t leave, so I voiced it. “Do the kids ask about him? Jeff?”
“Sometimes. They’re curious, of course, and Father’s Day is always a touchy subject, but I’ve been really lucky to have Larry, and the kids have been pretty secluded from other kids out here. This was their first real year at school.”
“What do you tell them?”
“That of course they have a father, because babies have to have a father and a mother. But they don’t have a dad. Because while all men can be fathers, not all of them are qualified to be daddies, and theirs just wasn’t.”
Because your loser dad didn’t want you. He wanted the next fix more than a screaming piece of shit like you. My mother’s words banged around in my head like a ball set loose in a pinball machine.
“You are a terrific mother. I hope to God you’ve heard that often, because you really are.” My thumbs grazed her wrist, just over her pulse.
“I didn’t do anything anyone else wouldn’t have done,” she refuted with a shrug.
“No. Don’t shrug it off. Because I am the product of someone who didn’t do what you did—what you do every
single day. Don’t ever doubt that. Also, if I ever meet Jeff, I’m going to knock him out.”
She gifted me with a small smile. “Don’t do that. He’s a lawyer in Denver now. He’d probably sue you for breaking his precious nose. You ever want to hurt Jeff, you have to hit something he cares about—his pocketbook. And honestly, we’re better for him leaving. Life with him would have been miserable, and I wouldn’t want the kids learning from that kind of father, especially Colt.”
“I get that.”
Her gaze flickered to my mouth and away.
She’s not thinking about kissing you, I lied to myself. Because if I admitted the truth, I’d have her under me in three seconds flat. My hands would be in her hair, my tongue in her mouth, her gasps in my ear.
Silence stretched between us, screaming with the countless possibilities of what could happen next.
Slowly, I let go of her wrists and moved back to my side of the couch. “I should probably get going. It’s late.”
“It’s nine.”
“Help me out here, Ella.” And now my voice sounded like sandpaper. Awesome.
“Help you out of what?” she asked, shifting her position so her legs were under her.
“You know what. Don’t make me say it.” The minute I said it, we were both screwed, and not in the physical sense. Well, okay, that, too.
“Maybe…maybe I want you to say it,” she finished in a strangled whisper.
“I can’t.” Not yet. Not while I’m a walking, talking lie. If she looked at my lap, I definitely wouldn’t need words. I’d gone rock hard the minute she’d looked at my mouth.
“Oh. I get it.” She sat back on her butt, and alarm bells sounded in my head.
“Get what?”
“Like I’m going to say it?” She laughed in self-deprecation.
“Ella.” It was a plea to speak, to not speak. Hell, I didn’t know anymore.
“You don’t see me like that. I totally get it.” She reached for the TV remote.
“How exactly do I see you? Please, enlighten me.” I leaned forward, stealing the remote. She’d opened this box and had better well dish it.
She huffed in annoyance. “You see me as a mom. As Colt and Maisie’s mom. And of course you do, because that’s what I am. A mom with two kids.”
“Well, yeah,” I said. Her motherhood—that selfless devotion she had to her kids—was one of her most attractive attributes.
She rolled her eyes with a little sigh, and the metaphorical light bulb went off in my head.
“You don’t think I want you.”
She shot me a look that confirmed my guess and blushed the same crimson of her couch. “You know, you’re right. It’s late.” She faked a yawn. “Suuuuuuper late.”
“I want you.” Damn, it felt so good to say the words.
“Yeah, okay.” She gave me a goofy look and a thumbs-up. “Please don’t make me feel any more idiotic than I do right now.”
Yeah, enough of this bullshit.
I pounced in one smooth motion, taking her back to the couch, sliding over her as I gathered her wrists in one hand above her head and settled between her open thighs.
Home.
“Holy shit, you move fast.” There was no fear or rejection in her eyes, just surprise.
“Not in every arena,” I promised.
Her lips parted.
“Ella. I want you.”
“Beckett…you don’t have to.”
Yeah, that soft little sigh she did was going to be my undoing.
I let go of her wrists, letting my fingers trail down her arm until I had one hand weaving my fingers into the hair at the base of her scalp and the other at the curve in her waist.
“Feel this?” Then I slid forward, letting my dick stroke along the seam in her pajama pants hard enough for her to gasp at the contact. I couldn’t remember ever wanting to shred a piece of fabric so much in my life. “I’ve never wanted a woman as much as I want you.”
I moved again, and her eyes slid shut as she let loose the sweetest moan.
My dick throbbed, knowing everything I’d fantasized about for the better part of the last eight months was one decision away.
“Beckett.” Her hands found my biceps, her nails digging in.
“Don’t ever think that I don’t want you, because if things were different, I would have already been inside you. I would know exactly how you feel, and what you sound like, look like, when you come. I’ve thought about it at least a hundred different ways, and believe me, I’ve got a great imagination.”
She rocked her hips against me, and I locked my jaw to keep from giving her exactly what her body was asking for. “Ella, you have to stop.”
“Why?” she asked, her lips dangerously close to mine. “What do you mean if things were different?” Her eyes flew wide. “Is this because I have kids?”
“What? No. Of course not. It’s because you’re Ryan’s little sister.” Before I could do any more damage, I got the hell off her and sat back on my side of the couch.
“Because…I’m Ryan’s little sister,” she repeated, scooting so she sat upright, facing me. “And you think he’d, what? Haunt you?”
Three things: The letter. The cancer. The lie.
I repeated those in my head until I was certain I could look at her and not drag her back under me.
“Beckett?”
“When I was growing up, if I wanted something, I took it. Immediately. I had sex at fourteen with a girl in my foster home of the moment. I opened Christmas presents early if I was lucky enough to get one, and it was usually from my social worker or some charity.”
“I don’t understand.” She wrapped her arms around her knees again.
“I took it immediately because I knew if I didn’t, chances were I wouldn’t get it. It was a now-or-never kind of thing—there weren’t second chances.”
“Okay.”
“I can’t touch you, can’t talk about it, because I’m afraid I’ll act on it.”
“And why does that matter if I want you to?”
“Because I won’t get a second chance. And I’m crap with people, with relationships. I’ve never had one that lasted more than a month. Never loved a woman I’ve slept with. And chances are I’d do something to screw this up, because it’s not just my dick that wants you, Ella.”
That O popped right back onto her face, and I closed my eyes to keep from lunging across the distance and kissing her. Knowing she’d let me—that she wanted it—sent my need from a bullet to a nuclear missile.
“And when I’d screw it up, because it would happen, trust me, it would hurt Colt and Maisie, too. You’d be on your own again, because there’s no chance you’d let me hang around and help you out like Ryan asked.”
“And there it is.”
“There it is. You’re Ryan’s little sister.”
“There were only five years between us. Not so little, you know.” She reached for the remote.
“I’m well aware.”
“So if Ryan were still alive…” She shot one last look at me.
I let everything slip for a millisecond, letting her see it all in my eyes, how badly I wanted her, and not just for her body. “Everything would be different.”
“Everything?”
“Everything but the way I feel about you, which he probably would have killed me for. Where does that leave us?”
“You mean besides me being a dried-up spinster and you being honor bound to a ghost?”
“Something like that.”
She rolled her head along the back of the couch, muttering something that sounded like a curse word under her breath. Then she sat up straight and powered on the TV with a click of her thumb. “That leaves us choosing a movie on demand. Because I’m not letting you walk out that door right now.”
“You’re not?”
“Nope. You walk out now, you might get all weird about this and not come back. Honor is a fabulous thing, but sometimes pride can be a lot stronger, especially when you convince yourself it’s for the good of the other person.”
Damn, the woman knew me.
“So movie it is,” I agreed. “Just…stay on your side of the couch.”
“I wasn’t the one who crossed the center line,” she teased with a smile that got me hard all over again.
Movie chosen, we sat and watched, both of us stealing sideways glances. There was that saying…the horse out of the barn. Yeah, the horse was out of the barn, and it wasn’t going back in. Not no way. Not no how.
That horse was running amok and screwing with my carefully constructed control.
But I didn’t complain when she moved over. Or when she pressed against my side. Nope. I lifted my arm and savored the feel of her curves, her trust. Still didn’t complain when she lay down in my arms. Hell no, I held on and memorized every second.
I woke with a start at the door opening, reaching for a pistol that wasn’t there. But Havoc was and, since her tail was wagging in a slow thump against the hardwood, I knew it had to be Hailey.
Yep. She tiptoed in, then saw us on the couch, stretched out in the spoon position, and gave me a grin before slipping into the guest room.
I put my head back down, breathing in the citrus scent of Ella’s hair, and tightened my arm at her waist so she didn’t fall off the couch. I would have slept balanced on a two-by-four if it meant I got to hold her.
Before I could fall asleep, I heard footsteps again, but this time they were coming from upstairs. Colt’s face appeared right above me, and panic in his eyes told me he didn’t care that I was wrapped around his mother.
“What’s up, bud?”
“Something’s wrong with Maisie. She’s on fire.”
Chapter Thirteen
Ella
Letter #13
Ella,
I’m so sorry that you missed Colt’s play, and no, it’s not trivial. I get it, and I don’t know what I could possibly say—or write—that would give you the peace of mind you deserve. You’re being ripped in two different directions, and that has to feel impossible.
The Last Letter Page 16