Everything inside of me tenses. Knots tangle my stomach. The hollow space inside me fills with anger. It skates under my skin, traveling through every cell as I glance over at Lane. Whatever is bothering him, it’s eating him more and more the longer we sit in the sand.
Although I should be mad at him, I’m not. I’m angry at my father because Lord knows if anyone steps on his toes and tells me a damn thing concerning my son without his permission, he will fly off the handle. Well, screw that. He’s going to learn a lesson if he’s behind the downfall of Lane. The man I’d clarify as sinful, sexy and oozes seduction appears to be on the edge of ruin.
His head tilts, our eyes lock, and I search through the depths of those green eyes for an answer. Quickly I become lost in the sea where I’d drown trying to find it. He’s buried it under the debris of his raw emotional pain.
God, what is he hiding that is gutting him right down to the bone? I’m about to excuse myself to call my father and demand he get his ass home right now when Lane’s gaze changes, devouring me with a potency that would sweep me off my feet if I wasn’t sitting down.
“You look beautiful with the wind blowing your hair. I’m dying to fist it while I take your ass. I own every part of you except that. I’d make you come so hard you’d beg me to make you do it again. You going to give it to me, Sienna?” he asks, roughly. A challenge. Not a request. An if and when.
His words catch me by surprise, sending a tremble through my body, coating me with as much anticipation as I can fit inside me after today has overloaded my mind.
He just lured me right in.
A long, slow roll of his throat catches my eye. I’m unsure if I can go there just yet. That’s a part of me Joseph would shackle my hands to the bed, threaten to cut out my tongue if I screamed, and he took from me until I felt like I was tearing in two. I told this to Lane the other night when I felt brave to share some of the horrid things done to me.
“You’re awful sure of yourself.” I tease as my eyes wander over the arc of his shoulders, down the vein that pops at the side of his neck, the muscles in his arms flexing like he’s fighting his urge not to pluck me right up from my spot.
“Sienna, my hands, my fingers, not a part of me will ever hurt you. When you’re ready, I’m erasing the last piece of that son of a bitch from you.” He already has, by the way, he’s taken care of me in all ways possible.
I’m not humiliated, ashamed, nor do I feel dirty anymore over Lane knowing what Joseph did to me. All it took was one touch from him to obliterate Joseph’s filth.
It’s not the same, yet it runs alongside us talking about taking it slow when it comes to how we feel for one another. We might be having sex, but like Victoria said, Lane and I do need to get to know each other again. And we are. We’ve talked, asked, answered so many questions, and I want that stability. I feel my own getting stronger every day. The solid foundation Lane talked about when it comes to him and me is solid. I want Luca to see that when he comes home.
I’m just not ready to give him that part of me. And again, I didn’t want to be afraid, but I am.
Lane’s eyes shutter closed, pinching tight, and when they open, it’s as if the earth shifts. The wind coming off the ocean dies down, the air becomes still. His eyes change color from the calmness before a tornado to hurling you into the eye of its devastating storm.
Destruction.
Terror shoots through my spirit, this sixth sense ringing in my ears like a warning. Telling me Lane isn’t going to be able to protect me from whatever is weighing him down.
“You’ve been sitting next to me, deep in thought. Don’t retreat on me now. I love hearing your voice even if some of the things you say cut me deep and bleed me dry. We’ve opened up to each other these past few weeks. Tell me what’s running through your mind.” He leans forward, grasps my chin between his thumb and forefinger, tilting my head enough to stare deep into my eyes. He’s begging me to open up, to share the burden dragging me down. I see him too, though. Whatever he’s hiding is whipping him in every direction.
I’m trying to figure out what’s running through yours. Of course, I don’t ask that. For my peace of mind, I wish I could. I know Lane would tell me if I asked. I won’t put him in a situation to have to deal with my father again. I’ll deal with him, and this time, no matter what’s being hidden from me, I won’t be so easy to forgive.
It kills me to keep my mouth shut, not to beg him to tell me what’s going through his mind. But I can’t. It infuriates me to the point I could combust. It makes me want to slap my father across his face with all I have in me that he thinks he has a right to put Lane in a position to hurt over keeping something from me. I thought Lane, me, my uncle made my father clear that I was to be in the know of everything. I guess I was wrong.
No matter what my father’s excuse will be this time, he has crossed his own sacred line.
Betrayal. Loyalty. Deceit.
How dare he make Lane go through more hell than he already is? He’s taken advantage of him.
“The same thing as always. I want Luca here to live the life he deserves, for you to get to know him. To watch you and him do things together. Every day that passes, my hope dwindles.” I’m not lying. I’ve thought about those things so many times these past weeks. My hope seems to be fading.
Missing years and millions of unspoken words pass in a frenzy across his face. The heartache that will never leave, mistakes he learned are slipping from his softening gaze. I focus on him as my own mistakes assault my brain. Nightmares and demons who always sound like Joseph bare their fangs and claws, biting and scratching to tear through the happiness and take ownership of my mind.
Tears instantly well in my eyes. I struggle hard to keep them in check as I always do, but a few leak out of the corners, and he’s right there to wipe them away.
Sorrow eats at my chest again for hiding Luca from Lane. That’ll never go away, but somehow, someway, I have to live with the pain and carry on. And I can. I can do it whether by myself or with the guiding hand that Lane, Ellie, and his family have extended toward me.
“Let go of the rest of those tears, Sienna. If you don’t, I’ll fuck them out of you later. Only they won’t be sad ones. They’ll be tears from coming over and over because your sweet pussy won’t be able to take my tongue buried inside of you for hours.” He grins, it doesn’t reach his eyes, yet I’m caught in the trance by the promises I know he’ll keep.
My heart clenches. I can feel those assurances in the crackling air around us, stirring up in the wind. Twisting and imploring me to let go and cry those tears.
“It’s a lot easier said than done, Lane. I cried so much in the first few months that up till you brought it up, I didn’t understand why I held them back. I’m afraid if I let go and cry, I’m letting defeat win. I can’t let go of hoping Luca won’t come home. It probably makes no sense to anyone except me, but when the only person I’ve lived my entire adult life for is missing and knowing all it would have taken was for me to be brave enough to call my father, I can’t let go of them. They are stuck the same way I am. I’m angry, Lane, so mad I allowed this to happen. You blame yourself. I blame me for marrying a man who would hurt a little boy. The only way I’ll cry is when I have Luca in my arms. I’m trying so hard to get through every day. I know you are too.” I choke on my words—the admission falling freely from my mouth.
I hated Joseph before. I can’t describe what I feel for him now. It’s a loathing that I honestly believe if someone placed a gun in my hand, I would beat him with it before shooting him through the black void where his heart should be.
That is how angry I’ve become. How bitter with every single day that devil’s spawn of a man keeps me away from Luca.
He’s baiting me with silent torture. And I hope. God, do I ever grasp hold that I get the chance to stare that bastard in the eye and witness him take his last breath. But I know I won’t. Lane and my father have made it perfectly clear that no matter what, I will n
ot be going anywhere near Joseph.
“It makes sense to me. One second, minute, hour, a day at a time is all we can continue to do. If I could crawl inside your heart and mind and burn the pain to ashes, I would. If I could bottle those tears up and toss them in the ocean, I would. I can’t do that anymore than I can turn back time.”
God, he’s a damn good man. Spinning me up, hands ready to catch me when I come tumbling down.
“I’ll take one minute at a time.” That’s all I can give anyone. That’s all I’ve been doing for months. All I’ve been doing since Lane is back in my life.
One minute. Sixty seconds. It feels like an eternity when you sit here, adding up how many there are in a day. One thousand four hundred and forty minutes. Eighty-six thousand four hundred seconds.
It’s tragic. Just like our love story, and it might not be a happy ending.
Lane knows it, and so do I.
This urge to do something to comfort him wraps around me. The next thing I know, I’m gripping the back of his neck, and I kiss him. Deep and long and satisfying. It takes all my willpower not to push him onto his back and straddle his waist.
That wouldn’t be a wise thing to do when Lexi and Ellie should be back from using the bathroom any minute.
A minute. There it is again.
Despair takes over one of us, maybe both when I place my hands on his shoulders, his cupping my face. We kiss with more passion, a higher degree of longing than any other before this. I wish we could stay in this moment forever.
Forever.
That word sticks when I think of Lane—crashing through me. A white-knuckling head-on avoidable collision. It could mean a long time. It could be short-lived.
It could be that minute.
“I…” His voice cracks when he pulls away, grinds his teeth, and his face pinches in sorrow.
“I’ll always take care of you, Sienna. No matter what happens. No matter where tomorrow brings us the next day or the next. You’ve grown stronger. I can’t allow you to get lost to where I can’t find you. That said, I know you, the you that wants to protect me. The you that’s figured out.” He stops, doesn’t finish what he was going to say. My eyes follow his to where Lexi runs our way. Her pigtails are swishing behind her. The Ariel doll I helped Lane replicate last week, in one hand, her bag of cotton candy she talked Lane into buying her today in the other.
Even though a smile lights up his face when Lexi reaches us and sits her doll next to me, Lane’s expression doesn’t change. It says what he didn’t finish. For me to let him talk to my father because whatever information awaits me, is worse than I could ever imagine.
I don’t think so.
Lane has underestimated me if he thinks that will happen. This is between my father and me.
“Look, Daddy. Aunt Ellie, let me bring down my cotton candy from the house. You break off a piece, and it melts in your mouth. It’s the best thing I’ve eaten in a long time. Well, it’s a tie with the waffles, whip cream, and chocolate chips Sienna made this morning. They were so good. She’s a better cook than you.” Lexi giggles through her words as Lane positions her on his lap.
“That so? I guess I won’t have to cook anymore then.” And just like that, this little girl is the clear blue sky before the dark clouds come rolling in.
My lips tremble, and I look away toward the ocean. Beyond the waves, the breath-taking sun begins to set. Beautiful smudges of coral, violet, turquoise, and a fiery orange blend together to create a sight so astonishing it sweeps me away from all of my worries, replacing them, momentarily with the warmth of safety and security.
The other day when Ellie and I took a walk on the beach, it became one of my favorite places. So peaceful and uplifting. I can see why they chose to move here, although I love Lane’s neighborhood too.
“Fine with me. I’ll go to The Grill House every night. Sienna and I will make chicken nuggets, mac and cheese, and share a skillet cookie. Now, open wide and take a bite. I’ll start calling you a chicken if you don’t try it.”
I smile through my sorrow. The other night the two of them came into the restaurant for dinner. She hasn’t stopped talking about the skillet cookie since. I wasn’t able to eat with them as I was finishing my last interview for an assistant, but I did catch dessert.
I turn my attention back to Lexi and Lane just in time to catch her clucking like a chicken, her arms flapping, hands shoved up in her armpits.
“Bwak Bwak Bwaaak, chicken. Sienna, my daddy, is a chicken.” Amusement dances across her face. Where she gets her wild spirit and lively energy from beats me. It’s contagious, though.
“You best knock it off, or I’ll start calling you Ursula, the sea witch or Cruella Deville. How about Maleficent?”
God, my brain freezes, I couldn’t concentrate on the Disney movies we watched this week. I sat staring at Lane, snuggling with Lexi. He was completely engrossed in the stories even though he’s probably watched them over and over. It was the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.
“Stick and stones can break my bones. Wait, I don’t want to break any bones, that would hurt. They’d have to stick a needle in me like that time I had my tonsils out. Nope, no broken bones for me ever. Try a piece, please.”
I try not to laugh, but Lexi is the type that draws one out of you. Not realizing she’s doing it at a time when you need it the most.
A surrendering grin slides across Lane’s handsome face, he doesn’t take his gaze full of love off of her. His shoulders shake as he barks out one too. Not Lexi, though, she’s as serious as a heart attack. More so than when she tried getting him to eat a piece earlier today.
“I don’t want you breaking any bones either.” He reaches up and tucks a piece of hair behind her ear.
That loving move is almost too much for me to handle. I’d give anything to run mine through Luca’s. I’ve said that also.
I’ve shared and talked so much about our son that Lane knows him inside and out. It’ll make things less awkward when they meet.
My heart thuds against my ribcage when Lexi shoves her hand into the bag and rips off a big piece before pushing the sticky sweetness between his lips. He opens his mouth and takes it.
“It’s delicious, huh?” She beams at him, this knowing gleam that he doesn’t like it at all. It melts and breaks my heart how well she knows him.
Luca baby, please come home. Please.
“No, it tastes like shit.” He fakes a gag, scrunching his nose. “No more of that tonight for you.”
The sour way he puckers his lips has me laughing again.
“Okay,” she says without throwing a fit, wraps the twisty around the bag and places it next to them.
“I knew you were going to say a bad word, Daddy. You owe me five dollars. I should double it because sugar does not taste yucky. You better get used to it ‘cause when I take my cooking class, I’m baking a big cake, lots of cupcakes and cookies for your birthday and all my school parties. You won’t have to buy them at the store anymore. You will have to keep making the Christmas bags with candy. Those are the best, like you. Did you know I have the best dad in the whole wide world, Sienna? My teacher, last year, said he was the greatest.”
My heart flips on itself.
Lane Mitchell is in a category of his own.
“Believe me, I do know.” I think he has the best daughter in the world too. A daughter I will take care of. A daughter I will love as my own. A daughter who isn’t replacing my son, but healing me in a way I never thought possible.
“Five times two equals ten. Ten whole dollars. Yes, you owe me ten bucks.” She lets out a whoop, pumps her fists, jumps off his lap, and holds out her hand—the prankster doing her best not to laugh.
Even though I’m enjoying their interaction, my heart crumbles that she figured that number out effortlessly. Luca would have done the same. He would have added those minutes and seconds up so quickly too.
“Good job with the math, princess. However, I believe my daughter just trick
ed me. It’s five or nothing.”
Gently tackling her to the sand, he tickles her until she’s squirming and squealing.
The girl has him wrapped around his finger. He also lets her take it so far. Lane has done an excellent job raising her. She’s respectful when he tells her no. She listens, asks questions, and observes—a lot like Lane.
It’s endearing.
“Stop, Daddy, or I’ll have to pee again, and yes, I washed my hands after. You will give me all of my money, or no more Lexi kisses for you. Want a piece, Sienna? It’s our favorite color. Did you know that pink is Sienna’s favorite color too, Daddy?” She grabs the bag, her doll, and places them on her lap.
God, the way she says daddy is so hard to describe. It’s like the sun, the moon, the stars all rise in her voice when that word comes out of her mouth. She worships him.
“No, thanks. I’m still full from dinner. Maybe tomorrow.”
Lane looks over at me, holding me in the grips of his stare. Silently telling me there will be a tomorrow and many more to follow. He shoots me a wink before turning his attention back to Lexi. I’m confident I turn as pink as the cotton candy because I know what he’s thinking.
I woke this morning in a panic, eyes blinking several times to get used to the morning light. My heart was twisting when I realized I left my phone in my car last night.
I kept thinking about what if I missed a call from Luca. What if he’s been trying and trying to get a hold of me? What if I’m the only number he can remember and he’s hurt?
Lane calmed me down when he pulled me into his arms and told me he slipped out of bed after I fell asleep, and my phone was on the nightstand where I’ve been putting it. Then he went on to tell me to relax, told me I was taking the day off from work.
I opened my mouth to argue about not working, snapping it right back closed when a big hand glided up my stomach, traveling to my breast, leaving a trail of chills in its wake.
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