The Complete Irreparable Boxed Set: Irreparable #1-2

by Sam Mariano

  She didn’t want him to feel as bad as she did. Especially if it would be reflected in his mood after she was done thinking about it. Experience told her that thinking about it during the day was the surest way to have nightmares when she closed her eyes.

  It made her feel somewhat resentful toward her own mind that it would sully her first night back with Ethan that way. What made it worse was knowing exactly what had triggered her memories—and being unable to prevent it from happening again. If she told Ethan she didn’t want to have sex in that position, she knew he’d be fine with it, but he would also know why. Talk about a mood killer.

  Physically that position felt good, but not so much emotionally. Not for her. Not with only one memory of ever being in that position before.

  Helpless tears sprang to her eyes and her face flushed with impotent anger as she quickly blinked them away. No. She was not going to cry about it.

  Sighing irritably, she pushed herself up, moving her legs over the side of the bed and perching there for a moment.

  Behind her, she heard Ethan shift, felt him move on the bed. Her bastard brain continued to associate the bed with the filthy mattress from the Chicago house, even though she knew it wasn’t.

  “Hey,” Ethan murmured, his voice thick with sleep. “You all right?”

  Closing her eyes for a second, she attempted to inject a little more evenness into her tone as she said, “Yep.”

  “What are you doing?” Another creak as he moved. “It’s the middle of the night.”

  She didn’t want to say. Her brain wasn’t functioning quickly enough to come up with a cover story, and she didn’t want to lie anyway—she just also didn’t want to tell the truth.

  Her silence lasted too long.

  His voice lower than before, Ethan asked, “Did you have a bad dream?”

  It felt like her brain cringed at the question, a grimace touching her face. She was glad she had her back to him.

  “Yeah.”

  He sighed—an expulsion of breath that communicated his defeat as effectively as the look on his face probably did. Willow’s shoulders tensed.

  “You weren’t there,” she added, so he didn’t have to ask. “It was just… the house we were at. The bad guys were there.”

  “And I wasn’t?” he asked dryly.

  Willow shook her head. “Sometimes you’re there—sometimes you’re the hero.”

  Scoffing lightly, he took a few seconds before responding. “I’m definitely not that.”

  If his tone would’ve held even the faintest hint of self-pity in that moment, she was certain she would’ve gotten up and left the room. Instead, there was an almost detached pensiveness to his words.

  Leaning back and curling up so that she faced him on the bed, Willow told him, “You’re my hero.”

  His lips curved up just slightly and he reached his hand out, brushing her hair behind her ear, then lightly tracing the curve of her jaw with his finger. “You need better heroes,” he said lightly.

  She smiled faintly, bringing her hand up to cover his, holding it hostage against her face. “Nope. I only need you.”

  The hint of a smile grew and he moved closer to her. “I don’t think I deserve you.”

  At that, she grinned, rolling her eyes playfully. “You’re probably right. I’ll just go…”

  “No, you won’t,” he said, lightly squeezing her and pulling her closer. “Whether I deserve you or not, you’re mine now.”

  “Am I? I don’t remember signing anything,” she teased. “This is a trial run, as far as I’m concerned.”

  “Oh yeah?” he asked, smiling as he pinched her sides again, making her squirm, helpless laughter escaping. Once he relented, she curled up in his arms, resting her head against his chest. It was more comforting than she wanted it to be, being in his embrace that way. It might be the only dark corner of the world where she felt safe instead of anxious.

  Premature declarations crept up her throat, but she kept her mouth firmly closed, her troublemaking tongue trapped inside her mouth. Too soon, brain. Too soon.

  Once her impulses were under control, Willow allowed herself to speak. “Would you do something for me?”

  Her head was still tucked under his chin as he cradled her against his chest. “Name it.”

  Even though she didn’t want to, she pulled back to meet his gaze. “Could you find out what happened with my case? I know that might be a weird request, but I can’t do it myself, it makes me too anxious, and I haven’t heard anything new about it. I mean, I know these things take time, but, like, I’m pretty sure I’m still supposed to testify, and I haven’t heard anything. I don’t want you to get in any trouble or anything—if you can’t find it online or wherever, don’t worry about it. I mean, don’t, like… you know, if it’s a big deal or you don’t usually—”

  Interrupting her nervous ramble, he assured her, “It won’t be a problem, Willow.”

  “Okay,” she said, releasing a little breath.

  A couple seconds passed before he said, “I don’t know where Tito is. I’ve looked for him. He disappeared. If I had to guess… he’s gone.”

  “You mean… dead, or…?”

  Watching her carefully, he nodded his head. “It’s that or he’s far better at disappearing than anyone would ever suspect. The last trace of him I can come up with is that video he gave your dad. There’s nothing after that. Either he ran and he’s deep in hiding, or… he didn’t.”

  Willow hesitated. “You’re sure the video was from Tito?”

  Ethan nodded a bit jerkily. “Yeah.”

  “Does that mean my dad killed him?”

  It was a naïve question, but even knowing what her father was, it was tough to wrap her head around the idea that he could actually murder someone.

  The apprehension that very briefly touched Ethan’s face mirrored that thought. “I’m sure he didn’t do it himself, but…”

  Dread swept over her again and she curled up against his chest, wrapping her arms around him even tighter than before. “Well, don’t poke into his business. I don’t care where Tito is, not that much. He’s gone. Let’s just… leave it at that.”

  “For what it’s worth, Willow, if I had your dad’s connections and someone showed me a video of him watching my daughter’s rape and not lifting a finger to help her, I can’t say I wouldn’t do the same thing.”

  Willow shook her head. “It wasn’t even about me. I’m not that important to him. I think he took it as an insult. I want you to stay away from my father. I only meant find out what happened legally, to the guys who got arrested. Lane. I fucking hated Lane.”

  “So did I. Don’t worry, I’m not stupid; I’m not going near your dad.”

  “Good.” Nuzzling against him again, she tried to get closer, but she was already as close as she could get.

  Well, not as close as she could get…

  Her fingers lightly caressed his bare back, skirting his waist, then dropped lower, under the thin sheet that covered him.

  Ethan released a faint groan, his arm around her tightening as her fingers closed around him. She was pleased to find he was already hard again as she moved her hand over his length.

  “Willow…”

  “Make love to me, Ethan.”

  He didn’t make her ask twice.

  ---

  When Ethan sat on the edge of the bed, lightly shaking Willow’s shoulder to wake her up, he didn’t move fast enough to avoid the pillow that she ripped off his side of the bed and threw at him.

  Chuckling a little as he caught it, he replied, “Not a morning person, huh?”

  “You’re the devil. Let me sleep.”

  “I made you breakfast,” he replied, trying to coax her. “I even put organic jelly on your toast for you. If you don’t come out here and eat it, everything’s going to get soggy.”

  Ignoring him, she rolled over very pointedly and yanked the blankets up over her head. He heard her muttering, but couldn’t quite make out wha
t she was saying. When he didn’t move, she finally moved a corner of the blanket down so that her eyes were peeking out of her blanket cocoon.

  Ethan sat there, already dressed for the day, his hair still slightly damp from his shower and his five o’clock shadow finally shaved off. He wore a look of amusement on his handsome face, and Willow groaned, closing her eyes.

  “You can’t be that sexy this early in the morning,” she informed him.

  “I would let you sleep, but I have to go to work and I’d like to have breakfast with you first.”

  Sighing heavily, still wrapped up in the blanket, she said, “Could you please bring my purse in here?”

  “Sure,” he replied, standing and heading back into the living room to fetch it. When he brought it back in, she told him to drop it by the bed, then she shooed him out of his own bedroom.

  It had been so long since he’d spent the night with someone for the first time, he didn’t immediately realize what was going on.

  When she emerged from the bathroom several minutes later with her hair smoothed back into place, fresh breath, and a light coat of make-up on her face, he realized she didn’t want him to see her when she first woke up. It almost made him laugh, but it also highlighted her inexperience, which canceled out the first instinct.

  “I can’t believe you made me breakfast,” she remarked, flashing him a smile as she took a bite of her eggs.

  “I told you I was going to,” he reminded her.

  “I know, but still.” Her gaze swept over his outfit again, then she said, “I take it you’re a morning person?”

  “By necessity,” he replied, stabbing a piece of egg on his own plate. Then he met her gaze across the small round table. “I like your messy morning hair, you know.”

  Her cheeks turned pink and she smiled, shaking her head. “Don’t lie to me.”

  He held up three fingers. “Scout’s honor. You don’t have to primp for me when you spend the night.”

  “I didn’t primp. Trust me, this is just to keep the bride of Frankenstein look at bay.”

  Ethan shook his head in amusement. “Whatever you say.”

  Pointing her fork at him accusingly, she said, “Besides, if you want me to come to the table with bedhead, you can’t sit there looking like James Bond. That’s just not fair.”

  “I wanted to let you sleep,” he defended. “I know you had a rough night.”

  Pointedly looking at her plate as she stabbed her food a little more violently, she said, “I didn’t have a rough night.”

  “You can’t lie to me when you’re sleeping next to me, Willow.”

  Cutting an unamused look at him across the table, she said, “I never lie to you, and it had nothing to do with you.”

  “When’s the last time you had one?” he asked, raising en eyebrow. Her response was a telling blush, and he merely nodded his head. “That’s what I thought.”

  “It’s fine,” she insisted, shrugging it off. “I don’t want to think about it. My last dream was much nicer, so we don’t need to give it another thought.”

  He didn’t look convinced. “Well, I hope that’s not a regular occurrence.”

  “I’m sure it won’t be,” she told him, taking a bite of her toast, her gaze catching on the small rectangular box in the center of the table. “What’s that?”

  Glancing at it, he replied, “That is a present.”

  “For whom?” she asked, eyebrows jumping.

  “For you.” Before she could remind him he already gave her a present, he added, “It was your back-up gift, in case you hated the painting.”

  Willow rolled her eyes, smiling faintly. “If I hated the painting, you should have told me tough luck. The painting was wonderful.”

  Nodding his head once, he replied, “I’m glad you like it. I’m still going to give you this one though. I would have last night, but I was distracted.”

  Willow wiggled her eyebrows at him playfully and he grinned in response.

  After she cleared her plate, Willow tucked a leg under her body and reached for the box in the center of the table, eyeing Ethan questioningly. He gave her a nod of encouragement, taking a sip from his coffee cup, and she grinned as she took the lid off the box. There was a long, thin jewelry box tucked inside, which she deftly worked out, setting the empty box aside.

  Carefully opening the box, she gasped when she saw a diamond bracelet set in white gold, glimmering as the light hit it.

  “Oh, my god, Ethan…” She stole a glance at him, then back at the bracelet, gently fingering it and pulling out the soft black material holding it in place. “You got me jewelry? This is not a friend gift.”

  “Well, I think we’re a little more than friends,” he said, smiling as she took it out and slid it around her wrist. “Do you like it?”

  “I love it,” she told him, fastening the bracelet and holding her hand up, moving her wrist around the make it sparkle. “It’s so, so beautiful. Thank you.”

  “You’re quite welcome,” he told her, giving her a satisfied smile and a little nod.

  Willow stood and came over to his side of the table. He was too close for her to sit down as she had originally intended, so instead she stepped over his lap and straddled him, winding her arms around his neck and smiling. “Thank you.”

  She watched his pupils grow larger as he gave her a heated look, his hands moving under her skirt to cup her ass, pulling her even closer against him. “I should have made you get out of bed sooner,” he murmured.

  “Or stayed in bed longer. I’m not so opposed to waking up when I have incentive,” she replied, reaching beneath her to rub his arousal.

  Tilting his head back and closing his eyes, he breathed out a sigh, his fingers curling against her ass. Willow bent her head and began trailing light kisses up his neck, then she took his earlobe between her teeth and tugged.

  “Jesus,” he muttered, one of his hands skating up the back of her shirt. His other hand slid up under her panties. She gasped as he ran his fingers across her entrance, then bit his neck as he pushed one of those fingers inside of her.

  “Do we have time?” she murmured against his neck, hoping he said yes.

  His voice, thick with lust, rumbled in her ear. “There was traffic—what could I do?”

  She laughed into his shoulder, then he plunged a second finger inside of her and her laugh drifted off into a sigh. Despite his light-hearted traffic comment, she knew they should hurry, so she wasted no time unfastening his pants.

  “Are you on the pill?” he asked, dropping a kiss on her shoulder.

  “No,” she replied, grimacing.

  “Fuck,” he muttered. “I should start hiding condoms everywhere.”

  “Tape them right under the table,” she agreed.

  He stood, instructing her to wrap her legs around him, then she grinned at him as he carried her back to the bedroom.

  That morning, Willow floated around on cloud nine.

  It wasn’t the first time she came home in last night’s clothes, but it was the first time she came in with an insuppressible grin on her face. Ashlynn had already left for work, but her mom was still sipping her morning coffee. When Willow came floating into the house, her mother’s face flushed, and she averted her gaze toward the television.

  Still a little tired, she went up to her room and climbed into bed, thinking maybe she’d take a nap before starting her day. Instead of falling asleep, she ended up lying there, smiling as she remembered the lovely night—and morning—she had spent with Ethan.

  Her head was bloated with feelings she had no intention of sharing—not yet. Logically she knew it was too soon to be convinced that Ethan was everything she wanted, but her foolish heart couldn’t be convinced. It felt like they had finally managed to overcome the obstacles, and having to fight for it, knowing for so long she might never have him, made their victory that much sweeter.

  Euphoric. She felt euphoric.

  She hated that she couldn’t stay. Minutes after lea
ving him, she already missed him.

  It took longer than she expected, but around mid-afternoon, Ethan sent a screenshot of Brian’s posts from the night before along with the text, “Something I should know?”

  She spent the next few minutes explaining the situation, then a few minutes after that convincing him it wasn’t a trick, and yes, Brian really was that cool. He didn’t buy it, and she told him he was too suspicious of everyone.

  No matter how stupid the text she sent or received from Ethan, she couldn’t seem to scrub the stupid smile off her face.

  She had it bad.

  Unfortunately she did not get to spend her whole day wrapped in an oblivious cocoon of infatuation. Work called. She asked Ethan if he wanted her to stop over after her shift, but he told her he wasn’t sure if he would be home yet. He didn’t volunteer what he was doing and she didn’t ask, but she just assumed that he must be working, too.

  Before her shift, Willow checked for new messages, then decided to hop on social media for a couple of minutes. Brian had posted again, a picture of her doing a stupid pouty face in the aisle at the grocery store with the caption, “I miss your mouth.”

  Willow rolled her eyes, hoping her mom didn’t read into that one and checked her messages one more time before putting her phone away and clocking in.

  That night was busy, but it made her immeasurably happy when she stole a look at her phone between tables and finally saw a message from Ethan.

  “Is this Brian kid trying to piss me off?”

  Laughing to herself, she sent back simply, “Yep.”

  Her boss caught her looking at her phone and gave her the evil eye, so she slid it back into her pocket and headed back to her tables to see if anyone needed a refill. She didn’t even know if he responded—she was too busy to feel the vibration—but eventually it died down, and she was able to sneak her phone out when she ran to the bathroom.

  “It’s working,” he sent back.