“Quite the telenovela you have here,” the officer said.
“Did she threaten the child?” the woman asked.
“No.” If she had, this probably would have ended far differently from how it was.
“Do you think she’d harm the child?” the second officer asked again, eyeing Camryn, who was now shaking as she sobbed harder.
“I don’t think so,” I said. I’d known her my entire life. She wasn’t capable of physically harming someone, least of all a child.
“You want my advice?” the other officer said, writing something down.
I looked at him and waited.
“File for an order of protection.”
“What do I do about her right now?” I glanced at Camryn.
“We’ll handle that,” the woman officer said.
“Is there any way to keep her away from the school?”
“Get down to the station as soon as you get a chance and file a restraining order.”
I stuck around to make sure Camryn didn’t lie while recounting what happened. She took the blame. Every time she got to the part where she had to talk about Miles, she broke down again. I didn’t have it in me to feel bad for her. I felt bad for my son, who had to witness that before being sent inside his classroom without so much as an explanation. Tessa was going to kill me. This was exactly what she was afraid of. Maybe she was right to keep Miles from me all this time if this was how Camryn was going to act. None of those thoughts helped the dread that sank into the pit of my stomach as I thought about having to tell her what happened.
Chapter Thirty-One
Tessa
I glanced up from my desk as Chloe knocked and opened the door, Rowan behind her.
“What are you doing here?” I pushed my chair back and stood.
He walked into the office and stopped, taking it all in. I could tell he was impressed by the way his brow arched, but the serious expression on his face made me worry about his reason for being here at all.
“I’ll be out there,” Chloe said. “Shout if you need me.”
“Thanks, Chlo.” I looked at Rowan. “What’s going on?”
“We need to talk.”
“Okay.” I sat, not liking the way he said those words. He took a seat across from me, folding his hands on the other side of my desk.
“It’s about a couple of things. One is Camryn,” he said, closing his eyes. “I fucked up.”
My stomach turned. How many times could we go through this? “Fucked up how?”
“She showed up at Miles’s school this morning.”
“What? Where’s Miles?” I stood again.
“He’s fine. I went back and checked on him, spoke to him, he’s fine.”
“Why didn’t you call me?”
“I didn’t want to tell you this over the phone. I promise, he’s okay.” I must have looked ready to run out the door because he said, “Tessa, I promise. Nothing is going to happen to him.”
I forced myself to remain seated even though it really was the last thing I wanted to do. “What happened?”
He recounted what happened from the way Camryn showed up and caused a scene to the police showing up afterward.
“You filed for an order of protection?”
“I couldn’t,” he said, swallowing thickly. “I’m not Miles’s legal guardian. My name isn’t on his birth certificate, so . . . “
He let the words hang. Under any other circumstance, I would have given those words a little more acknowledgment, but as the calm passed and the rage began to slowly creep through me, the only thing I could do was think about killing Camryn. I’d kill her. I’d fucking choke the hell out of her. How dare she show up at my son’s daycare? How dare she look at him? How dare she—
“Tess, say something,” Rowan whispered across from me.
“I hate her.”
“I know and I swear I’d rather die before she did anything that would hurt Miles in any way. I don’t think she would. I don’t want her near him, but I don’t think she’d do anything to a little boy.”
I felt sick, so sick. I slumped in the chair again, putting my elbows on the desk. I buried my face in my hands. “You don’t know that.”
The next second had him kneeling on the floor next to my chair, his hand on my shoulder. I didn’t shove him away, even though a part of me wanted to.
“She doesn’t know Miles is yours. I’m afraid if she found out . . .” He let loose a deep breath. “I couldn’t bear it, baby.”
He couldn’t bear it? I nearly laughed at that, but I knew it was unfair. He’d been watching Miles, taking care of him, being a father to him. In truth, I wasn’t sure what I would have done without Rowan these last couple of weeks.
But this?
This was major and brought on a wave of fear I’d never felt. Camryn could go after me all she wanted, but my son was off limits, and if she didn’t even know he was mine . . . fear gripped my chest. I lowered my hands and looked up at Rowan, who looked completely at a loss for words. He was chewing on his bottom lip as he watched me, waiting for the verdict. He knew it would be bad. It had to be.
“You need to stay away from us until the divorce is final.”
His face fell. “What? No. I can’t not see you. I can’t not see my son.”
“Your son is the reason I’m asking you to do this. For him, because of him, you need to stay away until this is all final and we figure out how to make sure she stays away from us.”
“Tessa—"
“You can Skype with him, talk on the phone, whatever you want, but please wait until she’s out of your life before you come crashing back into ours. He’s a baby.” The look in his eyes nearly broke me in two, but my son was my priority. “He bleeds, you know. Our little boy bleeds.”
“I know he does,” he said brokenly. “And out of all the things I’m proud of, that one’s at the top of the list.” He cupped my face, leaned down, and kissed me softly. “I love you, Sprite. Don’t forget that.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
Rowan
“So it goes,” Dean said, taking a swig of the glass bottle of Coke in his hand. “You get the chick, lose the chick, hope to God you can get the chick back again.”
“Are you speaking from experience?”
“Fuck no. I don’t have time to play those games,” he said. “I fuck. I leave. That’s it.”
“Which is a game in and of itself.”
“Yeah, but I’m a pro at that game.”
I chuckled, waiting for him to give me whatever information he wanted to tell me. He’d called me and asked me to meet him for it. Dean was odd like that. I got the feeling he thought the CIA was listening in on every phone call he made. Shit, maybe they were.
“Camryn is living with Roger Wales full time.” He reached into his jacket and handed me a white envelope. “Pictures in case you need proof in court.”
“I’m hoping it doesn’t go that far.”
“Did you file a restraining order?”
“Tessa filed a complaint on Miles’s behalf.” I hadn’t felt the need to do it for myself and as far as I knew, Tessa hadn’t gotten one either. We probably both came to the same conclusion—she was like a gnat, annoying and persistent but harmless.
“Why do you help me?” I asked. It was something that had been grating at me since the first time he showed up after we met at the bar. “You don’t let me pay you and you sure as fuck don’t seem like the kind of guy who does pro-bono for kicks.”
“Pro-bono is one of the ways I repent for past sins.”
“Hm. My hopefully soon-to-be brother-in-law has that outlook on life. Too bad his golden heart nearly got him killed.”
“How so?”
“He worked for this private company that sent him on some home mission. Totally fucked him up. Got shot up, stabbed, you name it.”
“Sounds like it’s time to retire.”
“I hope so, for everyone’s sake. His family hasn’t left the hospital much.”
“Was he one of the guys in the container raid down by the docks?”
I stopped walking. “How did you know?”
“It was in the paper.”
I looked at him for a beat. It had been on the news too, but how did he just put two and two together? I shook the thought away. Dean found out things about everyone around me, he obviously had done the same to Freddie.
“I hope he recovers quickly.” He tossed the bottle into the recycling and shook my hand. “Later, kid.”
With that, he walked off. I shook my head, took the pictures out of the envelope, and looked through them. I’d definitely give these to my lawyer just in case.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Tessa
The days seemed to drag on without Rowan in them. I tried not to even look at him while he Skyped with Miles. It made me miss him too much and seeing him only reminded me of how unfair it all was. We spoke on the phone briefly before bed, but it wasn’t enough. None of it was. What I didn’t do was allow myself to pull back on my feelings. He’d told me he loved me. He’d shown me he loved our son. He just needed to get his shit together and come back to us for good. Those were the thoughts that kept me going as I yanked the door to the hospital open.
When I stepped off the elevator, Celia was standing there with a smile on her face.
“He walked today.”
I grinned so wide that my lips cracked from the cold. “How far?”
“Just to the other side of the room,” she said. “But he walked.”
“How’s he handling the scar?”
Her face fell. “Not that great. He keeps making jokes about it, and you know he only makes jokes—”
“When he’s depressed. Fuck.” I breathed out. “What can we do?”
“Just keep reminding him that the scar doesn’t matter. I don’t know.” She hugged me quickly. “Happy birthday, sissy. I’ll see you later.”
I walked toward Freddie’s room, knocking once before I went inside. I completely froze, my heart galloping in my ears at the sight of Rowan sitting in the chair beside Freddie’s bed. It wasn’t the first time I’d seen him here. Ever since he figured out what times I visited, he’d come around the same time. Yet, it did nothing to diminish the way I felt each time I saw him.
“Um, hi.” I made myself walk inside, letting the door shut behind me. “I didn’t bring anything,” I said awkwardly.
My brother raised his good eyebrow. “When do you ever bring anything?”
“Shut up, I’ve been caught up in things.”
“I’ll forgive you, but only because it’s your birthday.” He smiled, cringing. I hated seeing him in pain. The scar on the left side of his face curved in the shape of a hook, narrowly missing his eye. It was still bright pink, but the doctors assured everyone that it would fade in time. It wouldn’t ever heal completely, but it would get better. I walked over and kissed him on the forehead before going around the bed. Rowan stood before I reached him, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me against him.
“Happy birthday, baby. God, I miss you,” he said against my hair. I wrapped my arms around his strong torso and breathed him in, bottling up the scent for later. We let go at the sound of Freddie shifting on the bed.
“I heard you banned him from the apartment,” my brother said when Rowan and I pulled away from each other.
“I didn’t exactly ban him. Oh, I almost forgot.” I reached into my messenger bag and took out the card Miles had made Freddie and another he’d made Rowan. “I didn’t know you’d be here, but I’ve been holding on to this just in case.”
His face broke into a grin. “He made one for me?”
I watched both of them as they opened their cards. Freddie’s said “Get Well Soon” and had rockets and paint brushes and easels drawn all over it. Rowan’s said “I Miss You” and had rockets and pancakes and bacon and books. His smile faltered as he looked at the card, his thumb brushing over it slowly. He looked up after a couple of beats.
“Thank you.”
I nodded once, not knowing how to handle the emotion Rowan was showing me. “I have to go. I just wanted to come by before my day gets crazy. I have to go to the hotel to measure the spaces for the furniture.”
“Are you getting me a free room?” Freddie asked. “Maybe they can hook it up with a permanent room for me there.”
“You have an apartment. Why would you want a hotel room?” I asked. He raised his good eyebrow. I rolled my eyes. “Stop being gross.”
He chuckled as I gave him a hug and a kiss goodbye. Rowan said his goodbye behind me and then followed me out the door. His hand kept brushing against mine as we walked the corridor to the elevator.
“Maybe we should take the stairs?” He nodded at them.
We were only three floors up, so I shrugged in agreement. He held the door open for a nurse to step out before we stepped in and made our way to the second floor, then the first. When we reached the landing, he pulled me aside, wrapped a hand behind my neck, and kissed me. His tongue delving into my mouth, branding me with the intensity of the kiss.
“I can’t do this anymore,” he breathed against me. “I can’t be apart from you much longer.” His hands were on my breasts over my blouse, mine were under the jacket of his suit, relishing how hard he felt beneath it all.
“We’re in a hospital stairwell,” I whispered. I wasn’t even wearing a skirt today. He groaned against me.
“I’m coming over tonight.”
“Rowan.”
“Sprite.” He looked into my eyes. “I’m coming over tonight.”
“Okay.”
* * *
My bedroom door opened sometime after I’d fallen asleep. I bolted upright in bed when I saw the large figure walk inside.
“It’s just me.”
“Rowan,” I breathed out. “You can’t just—how did you get in?”
“You gave me a key, remember?”
“Not to keep.”
“Well, I kept it.”
I smiled into the dark. “What time is it? I didn’t think you were going to come.”
“It’s only ten.” I heard rustling and knew he was undressing. The bed dipped a few beats after and I shivered as he scooted over to me, pressing his naked chest against my barely clothed body. His lips found mine in an unrushed kiss.
“I miss you so much, Sprite.”
“I miss you,” I whispered against his mouth.
“Let me stay.”
I shook my head, my nose tapping against his. “You know I can’t. Not until we know for sure she’s out of our lives.”
“I hate this.”
“So do I.”
He kissed me again, harder this time, with more desperation than the previous kiss held. I wrapped my legs around his waist and my arms around his neck as he pushed me onto my back and climbed over me. He pulled back for a moment, long enough to pull my T-shirt over my head and drag my underwear down my legs. His went next and then he was right over me again, kissing me deeply, his hands everywhere—on my breasts, my thighs, and my waist, which had me arching up to meet his erection, thick and ready between my legs. His fingers ran through my folds and into me, teasing, making me wet and ready and desperate for release. I ground against him, moaned out his name, tugged the ends of his hair, wishing I could make out his face. With no warning or hesitation, he thrust into me. I gasped loudly, my nails scraping down his back.
“Fuck,” he breathed as he pressed his forehead against mine and drew out slowly. “Fuck, Tessa.”
He brought his cheek against mine, the prickle of his light beard sending goose bumps down my flesh. He pressed open-mouthed kisses along my jaw, nipping and sucking his way to my earlobe as he fucked me deeper, harder, until I was panting his name and my nails were digging into his flesh so hard I was sure I’d draw blood. He pulled back slightly, bringing a hand up to my forehead, pushing my hair off of it. In the dark, I couldn’t see his eyes, but I could make out his set jaw and long nose. I brought
my hand up, pressing the tips of my fingers against his full lips. He parted them and sucked my fingertips into his mouth.
“I can feel how close you are,” he said against my fingertips. “Gripping my cock so fucking tight.”
I gripped again. On purpose that time, though my body was coiled with need and crumbling in pleasure I couldn’t make up even if I wanted to. He bowed his head, his lips capturing mine again as I shattered around him and he inside me, my name a growl on his lips. He set his forehead against mine and breathed out as we caught our breaths.
“Happy birthday, Sprite.”
I wrapped my arms around him again and pulled him close, wishing I never had to let go.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Tessa
I made Rowan slink away in the middle of the night. He had another meeting with his attorney in the morning anyway and we were hoping it would be the last one. So, after much deliberation on his part, he gave me a kiss, snuck into Miles’s room to give him a kiss, and left. Hours later when I crawled out of bed, I found myself standing in front of a very sad-looking Miles, who was sitting there just staring at his waffles.
“What’s wrong?”
He brought his gaze to mine. “When is Rowan coming back?”
“What?” I set my mug down and gave him my full attention.
“When is he coming back? I miss him.”
“Soon, babe. Very soon.” I looked at his untouched plate. “Do you want more syrup?”
He shook his head. “Rowan puts whipped cream on them.”
“I’ll get you whipped cream then.” I pulled it out of the fridge, stacked the waffles, and sprayed whipped cream on them. He moped some more. I sighed. “What?”
“He makes faces.”
“Miles.” I exhaled, setting the can down. “You’re eating chocolate chip waffles. Most kids your age would kill to be eating this right now.”
My Way Back to You: New York Times Bestselling Author Page 18