She came into full view, dismissing his fanciful wish that it would be Millie in the flesh rather than Claire. “I thought I’d find you here.” Her tone held no malice or judgement, just a sad observation tinged with empathy.
“Got nowhere else to be.” Noah sat the articles aside that he already read at least a hundred times and let his hands rest limp on his raised knees.
Not so long ago that would have sparked an argument, but now it was as if she knew what was wrong. Claire lowered herself to sit on the top step, across from him. She tucked the light floral fabric of her dress around her legs as if to preserve her already tattered modesty. This, too, was a change in her.
Claire had gone from form-fitting clothing and high-heels to comfortable loose dresses belted at her still tiny waist and flat shoes. The artfully applied makeup was gone. She looked younger and softer somehow, like a summer goddess that should be frolicking in fields of flowers and sunshine rather than lurking in the offices of corporate America.
“I brought you something.” Claire pulled a dog-eared envelope from her purse.
With her eyes downcast demurely and a small smile spreading across her face, she slid it across the floor to him. “I wish it was more, but it was too late to make more changes and get refunds.”
Noah picked up the envelope and peeked inside. Cash. He thumbed through the stack of fifties and hundreds. There was at least ten grand here.
“Where did you get this?” He asked his tone incredulous.
“First I sold that couture wedding gown, along with the veil and tiara. It fit her style more than mine, and it cost a small fortune.” She looked at her hands instead of him as though she was shy about her actions. “That was about half of it. I bought an off-the-rack dress instead. I like it so much better.”
He couldn’t believe what he was hearing—her style? What was that supposed to mean?
“I also talked to the caterer. We didn’t really need three meat options or individual plate service. I saved a lot scaling it back to family style and just having one meat. I would have changed the photographer and the venue, too, but you guys were under contract, so it was too late.” She blushed and met Noah’s gaze. Pride radiated from her as she continued. “I want you to use the money I recouped on the house.”
Listening to Claire speak, you would think she was talking about someone else making decisions, but she had made each one. None of it added up. She didn’t talk like herself, dress like herself, act like herself. It was as if someone ripped Claire out and another, better version had stepped inside.
“Noah, are you okay?”
He nodded, struck mute by the idea. Could that really have happened?
Claire stood up, leaving her purse where she dropped it and walked to him. “Come on. You’ve been on the floor all week. Your muscles must ache.” She held her hand out to him. “You need a hot bath and a shave.”
Noah stared up at those beautiful eyes. There was something about them that he just could not say no to. They were the key to unraveling all of this, he was sure of it. Noah put his hand in Claire’s and allowed her to steady him as he climbed up off the floor.
Hand in hand, she led him down the hall, through the bedroom into the now finished bathroom. “I’m so glad you stuck to your guns about this bathroom. It’s lovely and she really didn’t need a bigger closet.”
There it was again—referring to herself in the third person and that she would bring up the closet. It was as if she were laying out a bread trail for him to follow with every new statement. He thought back over each conversation they had. Not the day of her asthma attack but after, and yes, she had gone back and forth between first and third person.
While he ruminated on the possibilities, she left him standing in the middle of the white tiled bathroom. He watched Claire, hungry for something, some new sign as she balanced on the edge of the tub, running him a bath. Steamrolled up from the porcelain, caressing and circling her as though she were on display. When she looked back at him, his breath caught. Could it really be Millie looking back at him? Or was it just his lonely heart wishing?
His eyes never left hers as he pulled off his shirt and shucked his slacks to the floor. He stepped out of them and walked to her. Her hand was over her heart and heat had risen in her cheeks as though she had never seen him nude. Claire, of course, had—but Millie, shy and reserved Millie had not and would have blushed.
“Let me get your razor, and I’ll shave you while you’re in the tub.” Her voice was breathless as she said it.
She moved to the sink. While he sank down into the water, allowing it to soothe the cramps out of his muscles, he watched her toe off her shoes. She opened the cabinet and retrieved his razor, shaving cream, and a glass she then filled with water.
Claire set her supplies down on the floor next to the tub, turned off his water, and pulled the stool over from the wall. She settled in behind him and with a deft touch, lathered his scruffy face was shaving cream. She wet the blade in her cup of water and made the first stroke across his cheek.
“I do admire the tub she chose. I can at least give her that much credit, but the rest of this room is your amazing work.” Her hands were quick and sure as she shaved away his beard and then cleaned the blade in her glass.
Her touch eased the tension in his neck and shoulders but built it lower. As she smoothed away the gruff edges of his sorrow, he was almost sure it was Millie. It would explain so much. He just needed something to seal it, some final sign—if she would only say it.
When she finished his shave, she loomed over him from her seat behind him and whispered, “You brought my home back to life.”
He caught her thin wrist as he pulled her around in front of him so that he could look into her shining eyes again. “You’re in there aren’t you?”
Tears welled in her eyes, and she dropped the razor, sending it clattering to the floor. She worried her bottom lip between her teeth, but she didn’t deny it. Her free hand moved to his now smooth cheek, stroking it.
Noah let go of her wrist and framed her dainty face in his large hands. “I’ve missed you.”
“I never left.”
Noah pulled her half over him until her mouth crashed into his. She didn’t kiss with the confidence that he knew with Claire. She kissed with the shy sweetness he had only known from Millie’s lips. She branded it into his memory with perfect clarity five nights ago.
millie was breathless with the intensity of her gratitude. She still couldn’t tell him, but somehow he knew. She had chosen her words to him carefully, and her reward was falling into bliss with the only man she had ever truly loved.
This kiss was so much more than the first had been. The intensity of feeling without the veil of death between them was an awakening that set her new body on fire with need. The feeling pooled in her center as he invaded her mouth with his, stoking the embers of her desire with his tongue.
Noah pulled her into the tub with him so that she sat his lap, apparently forgetting that unlike him, she was still fully clothed. Water sloshed onto the floor with the sudden movement. His fingers met hers at the leather belt around her waist. They fumbled at it together as his lips moved down the column of her neck. When the buckle gave, he flung the leather across the room and moved his hands to the soaked hem of her dress, pushing it up her thighs.
Millie relaxed in the caress of his wandering hands, pulling the wet material up her body, inch by delicious inch. She didn’t suffer any of the revulsion that she remembered, no distracted fear. There were no memories dogging her in this moment. It was only the two of them—at last. Even so, when he pulled the dress over her head, she crossed her arms over the front of her bra, self-consciousness a last vestige of her old fashion modesty.
He tossed the dress aside as he had the belt. “Honey, don’t hide from me ever again—please.” His voice cracked with emotion—relief from the pain that she caused for the reward of this moment and so many others.
“I promise,”
she whispered, her own voice shaking.
Noah covered her trembling hands as she released the front clasp on her bra. Emboldened, she let the straps slide off her shoulders and over the edge of the tub. Her cheeks flushed with heat, but she didn’t hide. Instead, she gripped his arms as one of Noah’s hands covered her bare breast. He stroked and rolled the sensitized peak. Her breath caught with the flood of sensation—a distraction from his other hand as it moved to her panties, drawing them down her legs.
The last physical barrier between them gone, she shifted in the water from her position sitting across his lap to straddle his body. Noah groaned as her folds stroked his hard length without entering her. Leaning forward, he took the tip of her other breast in his mouth as his hand continued to work the first.
Millie’s body felt like it had three burning points, her achy breasts and the pulsing need between her legs, connected intimately to him. He suckled and caressed them as she rocked against him. Taking ownership her own pleasure like this—the build-up—it overwhelmed her senses bringing her to a peak so bright she thought the light had come back for her because surely nothing short of heaven could be that good.
Millie cried out with her release and collapsed against Noah’s chest. His hands moved to run lazily down her spine, stroking up and down to calm her. The tenderness brought tears to her eyes. Without his own completion, he was tending to her, making her feel treasured. The experience moved her, deep down, where she now knew her soul lived.
“Are you ready, love?” The pet name, the intimacy of his whisper against her skin sent a ripple of renewed desire through her—like a soft echo of the climax she just had.
She nodded against his chest, still unable to speak.
With gentle strength, Noah lifted her, not much but enough to position himself at her opening. Millie moved down, the length of him slowly filling her up, stretching her in ways that had never felt so good or so right. This body might be familiar with him, but Millie was not. He knew—God bless him, Noah knew who it was he was making love to whether he said it or not. It was in the care he took with her as he moved, allowing her to adjust until he was fully sheathed inside of her. Even then, he paused. In that moment when their bodies connected, it seemed as if they were bound body and soul. He held her still, allowing her to get used to him—to revel in it.
Their eyes met. His cloudless blues brimmed with his own watery tears to match her own. They had both suffered so much to get to this moment—to feel one another. It was a miracle of epic proportions. God had not forsaken her, as she believed so long ago.
Unfamiliar with this position her movements were tentative as she rocked in a slow rhythm with her hips. It was equal parts exquisite and torture. As if she were running towards some precipice that she couldn’t fathom. His mouth found hers in the madness, and she melted into him. His hands moved to her hips, helping her as they moved in tandem with their heartbeats.
Their bodies crushed together, every impact of their slippery flesh sent a shockwave of sensation through the already stimulated bundle of nerves above where they joined. She felt the end looming up ahead, and she wanted him to tumble with her—needed it. He must have felt it, too, because he began controlling their pace, bucking beneath her and urging her hips to move faster. None of the urgency of their lovemaking lessened the connection she felt between their souls—if anything it grew with their impending climax.
He claimed another kiss from her lips that mirrored her own desperation. When she felt him shudder and heard him moan into their kiss, her own release rushed up and took her down with him. They clung to one another, shaking in the cooling water, a swirling raw nerve of intensity that pulsed through them both until it slowed and ebbed away.
He released her mouth, and she rubbed her cheek against his smooth one. “I love you, Noah.”
She wanted to hear him say her name—her real one, and the only piece that would take the moment from beautiful to perfect. His actions showed her he knew her identity, but the little insecure voice that needled her heart wanted the visceral confirmation.
Millie lay against him, waiting and basking in the aftershocks of their lovemaking. The cool water lapped at her sensitized skin, and she shivered.
Noah’s hooded gaze met hers. “I’m not taking care of you, am I?”
He raised up out of the water, lifting her with him and causing the water to slosh inside the porcelain. He sat her down on shaking legs on the cold tile floor and then climbed out after her. Grabbing a folded white towel on the shelf beside them, he wrapped her in the fluffy terry cloth, rubbing her with it and warming her limbs. He wrapped a second one around his own waist. Then he lifted her once more and carried her out to the bedroom.
Millie felt like the bride she was about to be for the second time and truly couldn’t wait to make it official. If one day could be like this, she couldn’t wait to start on forever. Noah laid her on the bed and climbed over her. Leaning down, he parted the towel at her belly.
“You found a way, didn’t you? You said I deserved a family and were so sure you couldn’t give me one, but here you are.” Noah placed a chaste kiss on her bare flesh, over the child in her womb.
He was saying the right things, melting her heart with each word. What he wasn’t saying whispered at her, building her self-doubt.
She lifted his chin, gently until his blue eyes met hers. “I want to hear you say my name.”
Noah rolled away from her. His silence answered for him. If he were certain, she knew in her heart that he would have said it, he would have freed them both.
Mille worried her bottom lip, struggling to choke back the tears that threatened, like the storm she saw returning to his eyes. She rolled off the bed, leaving him there. There weren’t any clothes yet in her custom closet, so she went to his. She unearthed the gray t-shirt he had been wearing the day he moved into her house and a pair of shorts. Grasping the towel tightly, she scuttled past him into the bathroom to retrieve her shoes. She abandoned her soggy dress and underthings and dressed quickly in the borrowed clothes.
When she came back out, he was sitting up on the bed watching her. “Where are you going?”
She tried again, opening her mouth to tell him she was Millie. Like every other time, nothing came out. What had happened between them had been poignant, and had altered her irrevocably, but it was not enough. She was certain now. He had to believe it, or she would never be free to say it. Whatever force in the universe had given her this second chance had imposed a cruel limit which threatened to break them apart.
“I’m going to call a cab. I’ll see you on Saturday.” Millie left the room but stopped at the top of the stairs. She called back to him. “Let me know when you believe. I’ll wait as long as it takes.”
noah stood in front of the church, clasping hands with Claire as the Pastor spoke. Each word in the ceremony felt like a death knoll for his battered heart. He reached up to tug at his tux, slipping his fingers between the collar and his skin to relieve the pressure. It brought to mind a marital noose growing ever tighter.
Ultimately, Claire hadn’t brought him here—that tiny heartbeat had. He couldn’t forget the panic in Claire’s eyes when she told him about the baby and the relief that chased it away when they had done the ultrasound. It put him in this moment.
He still couldn’t find Millie, and he was wracked with guilt over what he had done with Claire. He allowed his grief to play a cruel trick on him and found peace in a lie. He wanted to believe it was Millie he had made love to, but he wasn’t sure. When he looked at her, it was as if his longing for Millie superimposed her on Claire. It was unnerving the response it brought on him.
Their vows were spoken, the rings exchanged, but his heart ached. He couldn’t turn off his feelings for Millie. How else could he have deluded himself into believing she had possessed Claire? But something was off there. She was so different and the look in her eyes when he refused to say her name had been like a deep wound. He didn’t know what to
make of it.
More importantly, he loved Millie, and here he stood betraying her by marrying Claire. When Claire had come down the aisle, it moved him to tears, not by love for his bride, but with longing for the spirit, he envisioned in her place. Her new gown came past her knees but well above her ankle. The lace sleeves gave it modesty, and the fascinator instead of a veil made it seem vintage—more like something Millie would have chosen, not Claire.
The echoes he saw of the woman he loved were gutting him and breaking more than his heart. With the visions of her everywhere, it wouldn’t be long before his mind broke too.
Music cued up, and they moved together behind the altar. Noah’s hand shook as he lifted his candle to meet Claire’s, lighting their unity candle. Then the marriage license. He studied Claire’s face as she signed. The soft upturn of her lips into a shy smile seemed so unlike her, so demure. He felt a stab of guilt for his own melancholy on a day that was supposed to mean so much.
He picked up the pen and scrawled his own name beside hers, then froze. In his preoccupation, he nearly missed it—her signature. The pastor had warned her during the rehearsal, sign it as she meant to go on because that would be her name when it was done. She had nearly come unglued, she was so happy about the simple warning.
In swirling feminine script—Mildred Claire McDonough.
Noah straightened, his eyes wide with his own shock. In black and white letters, he finally caught on to what her eyes had been trying to tell him since the panic on the kitchen floor. Her smile spread as his own began to take shape.
His addled mind turned over every word, every look between them in the last week. God—she must have been so afraid, and he hadn’t made it any easier. He had been cruel on the first day, consumed by his own bitterness. Later, he had been correct in the hallway when her words started to fit into place. When they made love, all she wanted was for him to call her Millie and he had doubted. Why hadn’t she told him?
Until Death Do Us Part: Haunted Romance Series Book 1 Page 7