by Loraine, Kim
She gestured for him to come into the small house.
“I think you know, Momma. Maddie called me.”
Her eyes pooled with tears. “He doesn’t mean to, Donnie. I aggravate him.”
He clenched his teeth at her words. It was the same thing she always said. Somehow, she always turned it around to be her fault.
“Maddie said he’s threatened them. She’s afraid.”
She shook her head, ready to defend the asshole to the end.
“Momma, stop it. Viv is here to pick up the girls after school. You should go with them.”
“I . . . I can’t.”
“He’s going to kill you. One day, he’s going to go too far. Please don’t make me an orphan, because I never really had a dad. Not one who mattered.”
Tears pricked at his eyes and he swallowed back the emotions threatening to overtake him.
“Donovan, you don’t understand your father, you never have. None of you really do.”
“I think it’s you who doesn’t understand him, Momma.” He raked a hand through his hair. “Why do you think his other kids won’t speak to him? His first wife got out before it was too late. That’s what Colin told me.”
“Colin was just a baby when they divorced. He doesn’t know anything. Margaret was crazy.”
“I don’t think so, Momma. She got out, had to move away and start over, but she got away from him.”
She sat on the same careworn couch he’d hidden behind as a child, her fingers knotted in the hem of her long-sleeved shirt.
He let out an angry breath and knelt down in front of her.
“Look at yourself, Momma,” he said as he pushed the thin sleeves up her arms.
Her wrists, forearms, and even elbows were marred with purplish bruises, some were fading, turning ugly shades of green.
“This isn’t love.”
Her face turned from beautiful sadness to ugly rage as if a switch had been flipped.
“That’s enough, young man. Your father has provided for this family, all of you, his whole life. He’s worked himself nearly to death. I’m not abandoning him just because he can’t handle his temper. He’s never laid a finger on you kids and he never will. The girls can stay with Viv for a few days, but they will come back home.”
With that he stood and walked out the door, giving his mother one last heartbroken glance.
“I love you, Momma.”
“Always, baby.”
Chapter 23
Valerie sighed as she stretched into downward dog and then to child’s pose. The sea air was warm and breezy. She could almost feel the chill of autumn approaching, even though there was still a month of summer left. Early mornings showcased the change of season more than any other time of day.
As the class moved into a relaxation and meditation pose, she worked to empty her mind and calm her thoughts. She breathed slowly and evenly, tried to soften her eyes, her belly, her limbs.
She failed.
Donovan had been in radio silence mode for the last three days. She’d had lessons to keep her busy the first day. But now, after two days of nothing but silence at his—their—little apartment, anxiety started taking over. Not knowing how he was, what was happening with him, drove her insane.
As the class started drifting off, each person choosing the length of their own personal meditation, she heard a gentle cough from behind her.
“Yoga on the beach, huh? Nice.”
“Blake.” Her surprise and delight were thinly veiled. “What are you doing here?”
“Morning run. I’ve got a shift at the hospital in a few hours. You know I love beachside sunrises.”
Her face prickled as heat rushed up her cheeks at his mention of their first time together. They’d camped out on the beach, waking before the sun rose, to enjoy the last moments of summer vacation. As the sky changed from a deep blue velvet to shades of pink and gold, their relationship had blossomed into deep intimacy. He’d been tender, caring, everything she’d wanted for her first time.
“Where’s the firefighter?”
“Out of town.”
Blake arched one eyebrow. “Coffee?”
Guilt raced through her, but was quickly replaced with resentment. If Donovan couldn’t trust her, they had deeper problems than his lack of communication.
“Sure, but I’m buying my own. Just friends, remember?”
Blake eyed her yoga clothes; tight fitting yoga leggings and a loose top over her sports bra.
“Where do you keep your wallet?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know?”
She grabbed the bag she’d set next to a piece of driftwood and waved it at him.
“Ah, that’s not nearly as fun as what I envisioned.”
An unchecked laugh escaped her. “I’ll bet.”
“You’re so beautiful when you smile. I’ve missed it.”
Her heart jumped to her throat. Why was he doing this? They’d already established she only wanted friendship.
“Blake, you can’t say things like that to me anymore.”
“What? Friends compliment each other.”
His attempt to feign innocence should have annoyed her. Instead, it made her laugh harder. Blake never had been one to let the word no get in his way.
“What’s so funny?”
“You,” she said, trying to control her laughter.
He smiled, his eyes twinkling with mirth, and took her arm as they walked to the boardwalk in search of coffee.
The only place open at this early hour was a small cafe nestled between a surf shop and the local curiosity shop. The warm smell of coffee filled her, bringing an involuntary smile to her lips as they passed through the door.
They ordered their coffees and found seats at the counter. A photo of John Oliver hung on the wall next to them. His bright smile filling the picture with infectious joy.
“Oh,” she whispered.
“What?”
“John. I forgot.”
“What are you talking about?” Blake was clearly frustrated. He didn’t know anything about John, Grace, the fire.
“I knew him. It’s a long story, really. I just forgot they loved this place so much.”
“Another firefighter?”
“John died a few years ago. He was my friend, in a way.”
Blake dropped his gaze, shame passing over his face. “Sorry.”
“You didn’t know. This is a close-knit community. The locals watch out for each other. John was the first firefighter we’ve lost in the line of duty in thirty years. It hit hard.”
“I’ve heard just how much your firefighter watches out for the nurses at the hospital. Why are you with that guy?”
She bit back a spiteful comment about his own lack of faithfulness. “He’s not like that anymore. That was the past.” Even as she said it, the words were tinged with worry.
“I know it might seem like I’m just trying to win you back, but I know for a fact that Donovan was with one of the ER charge nurses, Casey, last week. She went on and on about him.”
Her mouth went dry.
“Valerie? Your order’s up,” the barista called from over the noise of the espresso machine.
Irritation flashed through her at the interruption. She stalked over to the pick-up counter and grabbed their coffees, ready to pump Blake for more information when three firefighters walked in. She recognized Klipper, but the other man and woman were people she’d not met yet.
Klipper grinned and waved, his eyes searching the small cafe for Donovan. The grin faded as his eyes found Blake, the only other person there.
“Really?” he asked, a look of disgust on his face.
“Stay out of it, Klipper. I’m having coffee with a friend.”
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“Where’s D?”
“Visiting family. He’ll be back later today.”
“He know you’re out with this douchebag?” Klipper gestured toward Blake.
“He doesn’t need to keep tabs on me.”
“Clearly.” The sarcasm in his voice was distinct.
“Give me a break. I’m not having this conversation with you,” she grabbed her bag and motioned for Blake to come with her. “Come on. Let’s get out of here. It’s suddenly too crowded.”
The door slammed behind them and she let out the breath she’d been holding. Head spinning, she hugged Blake lightly before she got into her car and headed back to the apartment, questions and doubts tearing at her confidence.
“Sweetheart? Valerie, are you home?” Donovan’s voice cut through the sound of the water running for her bath.
Valerie’s heart flipped in excitement. He was back. She should be mad at him for his silence, hurt by his lack of concern for her feelings. Instead, she was just relieved to have his presence near her.
“In the bath,” she called, stretching one leg to turn off the faucet with a toe.
His large frame filled the doorway in moments, causing her to flush at her nakedness.
“God, I missed you.”
“Really, hotshot? Didn’t seem like it to me,” she teased.
Her chest tightened at the sadness that passed over his face.
“Well, I did.”
“Everything okay?”
He must have taken that as a peace offering, because he sauntered over and sat on the side of the tub, trailing one hand over her exposed leg.
“Better. For now.”
“You don’t want to tell me about it.”
“No. I don’t want to think about it. I want to think about you, and me loving you.”
That stole her breath. Loving her? He loved her? Before she could process and overanalyze his statement, he was pulling his shirt off, unbuttoning his jeans, and sliding them down his hips. He pulled her into a sitting position and slipped into the water behind her, skin on skin. Electricity ran over her everywhere they touched.
“You’re spilling water on the floor.”
“Fuck it. I don’t care.”
His lips lit a fire in her as he kissed a trail from her neck to her shoulder.
“You are so fucking beautiful.”
One hand snaked over her belly and up to brush against the sensitive skin of her breast.
“You’re not too bad yourself, hotshot,” she said in a breathy whisper.
She could feel him hard against her. Biting back a moan, she shifted to press into him, inviting him.
“Jesus, sweetheart.”
“I need you, Donovan,” she whispered, the ache she felt for him consuming her.
Without another word, he lifted her from the tub, dripping wet, and carried her to his bed.
“We’re soaking wet,” she laughed.
He locked eyes with hers and moved into her, never breaking eye contact.
“God,” he hissed as he filled her.
Fire shot through her, a feeling of wholeness, completion, overwhelming her.
He went slowly, taking his time, fighting for control. She felt the stirrings of an intense climax deep in her belly as he brushed against the innermost part of her.
“Donovan, I’m—”
“Shh, don’t say it, I’m trying to make it last,” he whispered against her lips.
He drove into her deeply, causing her to shift her hips, sending her over the edge with a thready cry. She pulsed and clenched around him and watched as he lost all control.
“Fuck,” he cried, pounding erratically against her as he climaxed.
In the afterglow, as she lay on the bed, his forehead on hers, their bodies still connected, she felt an ache in her heart. An ache for the piece that was distinctly his.
“Valerie?” he whispered as he stroked her shoulder.
Her eyes flitted to his. “Donovan.”
“I love you.”
Donovan’s heart caught in his throat at the look on her face. He’d just said the three most meaningful words of his life and she wouldn’t answer. In fact, she looked terrified.
He tried to laugh it off, make it less important. “Sorry, sweetheart. I guess I should wait until we’ve recovered from mind-blowing sex before I drop something like that on you.”
He pulled away from her and set about dressing himself, mortification making his ears burn.
“Donovan,” she started.
“It’s fine.”
She grabbed a shirt from the floor and covered herself in it. “I . . . It’s just . . . too soon.”
His heart hurt, it honest-to-god felt like someone was stepping on it with a stiletto.
“Yeah, I get it. I need a drink. Want something?”
He rushed out of the room before she could answer and threw open the fridge, swallowing half a beer in one long gulp. A soft, warm hand pressed against his bare back.
“I’m sorry.”
He finished the beer before turning to face her. “I’m fine, sweetheart.”
“I’m not saying I don’t feel the same way. I’m just not ready to say it.”
Angry questions bubbled up in him. She wasn’t ready to say it? What the fuck did that mean? If she felt it, why couldn’t she say it?
“I don’t even know what that means, Valerie.”
He watched her as if in slow motion, stepping back from him, gathering her composure. He braced for the words he dreaded, she was going to leave. He’d scared her off.
“It means—” She wrapped her arms protectively around her middle. “It means I’m screwed up. I’m afraid to love anyone. It’s gone bad too many times.”
A breath he didn’t know he’d been holding came rushing out as her words sank in.
“So, you’re not leaving?” He was embarrassed by the vulnerability in his voice.
“Leaving? Why would I be leaving?”
“I thought I scared you off.”
Her clear blue eyes rose to meet his. “You’d be hard pressed to do that, hotshot.”
The goofy grin spread over his lips involuntarily. A sudden urge to be connected to her took over and as he watched her own eyes darken with lust, he lowered his grinning mouth to hers. They were already swollen from his earlier attentions and their softness met his rough stubble.
“Sorry, I didn’t get a chance to shave,” he murmured against her lips.
She shook her head minutely. “I like your stubble. It makes you look like a sexy pirate.”
“Arr,” he growled in her ear, regretting it immediately as embarrassment flooded him.
“Mmm, do it again.”
Instead of obliging her, he picked her up and sat her on the counter, chuckling as she let out a squeak of surprise when her bare skin hit the chilly granite.
“It’s cold.”
“I’m sure we can find a way to warm you up, Miss Peters.”
She arched one eyebrow at him. “Promise?”
“Oh yeah, sweetheart.”
Chapter 24
“He said he loves you?” Angela’s eyes twinkled with excitement.
Valerie tried to wipe the stupid grin off her face, but failed miserably. She’d been walking on air for the last week since Donovan’s admission.
“Did you say it back?”
“Not yet. I’m not ready.”
Angela sipped at her coffee, staring over the rim of the paper cup and out to the rough waves of the Atlantic.
“But you do love him.” It was a statement, no question about it.
“Yes.”
“Just don’t take too long. He’s more vulnerabl
e than he looks.”
Valerie raised a quizzical eyebrow. “How do you mean?”
Angela pushed her chair back and stood, tossing her empty cup into the trashcan. “He’s got a story, but I can’t share it, not even with you.”
Angela glanced at the clock on her phone and grimaced. “I have to go. Garrett and I are meeting to go over a few things before we head to the studio to finish the album.”
“Have you shown him your songs?”
Angela’s cheeks reddened. “That’s what today is for.”
She could tell her sister was nervous about putting herself out there in front of Garrett. He’d always been the main songwriter for Panic Station. Now, Angela was taking a chance, risking rejection, and doing what she was passionate about.
“I’m proud of you.”
Angela’s smile was colored with nerves.
“Good luck. See you at family dinner tonight.” She hugged her gutsy little sister and tossed her own cup into the trash as they parted ways.
The warmth of early September soaked into her bones as she walked to her car. She had a schedule packed with swimming students, all getting their last lessons before school started, and a family dinner in front of her.
Her phone rang as she pulled up to the pool parking lot. Mom calling again, probably to make sure she was bringing Donovan to dinner.
“Hi, Mom.”
“Morning.”
She glanced at the clock on her dash, with only ten minutes until her first student, she needed to get this conversation moving. Her mother was a notorious proprietor of dead air during phone conversations.
“Did you need something, Mom?”
“Yes, right. Can you please make sure to actually bring the man you are living in sin with to family dinner tonight? I’ve invited him each week for over two months. I just can’t imagine he has duty at the station every single Friday.”
She bit back a sigh. She’d been busted. The idea of bringing the man she lived with—had hot sex with—was terrifying on many different levels. Her family knew Donovan, he’d been friends with Angela long before he’d ever met her, but that didn’t change the uncomfortable cast on her dad’s face every time her boyfriend’s name came up. The fact that they were clearly having sex shifted her dad’s perception dramatically.