Honest Love (Broken Hearts duet Book 1)

by Lauren K. McKellar

  “Maybe I like the idea,” she said in a low, husky tone, and Jesus Christ, was she trying to kill me? I groaned, trying to adjust myself, but she stepped closer, stopping less than a foot away. She looked at me with eyes that had sex and the devil inside of them, and whispered, “Teach me.”

  I swallowed. Okay.

  It was okay. I could do this.

  She was Everly. Not someone I wanted to slam against the wall. Not someone I wanted to breathe in, whose elegant neck I wanted to devour with my tongue. Not someone I wanted to feel shiver beneath me as I licked between her legs, her hands in my hair as she cried out my name.

  Just … Everly.

  “So you want to stand far enough away from the bag that you couldn’t hit it if you tried, unless you pivoted your hips into it,” I said, my voice coming out gruff, husky. “Like this.”

  I demonstrated the distance I meant, then gestured for her to imitate.

  “Here?” she asked, reaching out to the bag and attempting a pivot to touch it.

  “Perfect.” I nodded. “Now, which arm are you gonna punch with?”

  She held up her right arm.

  “Great.” I nodded. How could I explain this to her in a language that would make sense?

  The garden.

  Of course.

  “So what I want you to do is imagine you’re a tree, and your big right toe is connected to the ground via roots. Strong, powerful roots.” I pressed my eyes closed for a second. For fuck’s sake. Roots? Innuendo was not my friend today. Thankfully, when I opened them, Everly appeared to have missed my second blunder. “You’re going to push down through your right big toe, digging deep into the ground, then use the force from that to heave up through your legs and torso.” I gestured along her body, careful not to touch her.

  Everly shuffled a little on her feet, and I could practically see her mind ticking. Good.

  “Then, you can pivot and take that punch,” I said.

  In slow motion, she lunged forward, her arm lashing out like a yo-yo. “Ouch,” she muttered, shaking her hand again.

  “Try not to punch with your arm,” I suggested.

  “What else am I supposed to punch with, Einstein?” She glared at me, and I laughed. God, I loved it when she was mad.

  “Your torso. Your toe—that root in the ground you’re connected to. Feel it forcing its way through your body and let that drive your punch, not your forearm.”

  She nodded, seeming to take it in, then tried again. This time, it was a lot better, and she didn’t cry out in pain, but her elbow still jerked too far back.

  “That was good, better. Let’s try again, but this time keep your elbow tighter.”

  “Can you show me?”

  I shrugged. “Sure.”

  Standing beside her, I shifted my weight to my right foot.

  “Not like that.” She shook her head. “Show me using … me.”

  Oh.

  Like that.

  I stood behind her, close. The scent of earth, as if she’d just been in the garden, and something sweet like chocolate reached my nose. On the back of her neck, tiny curls sprung loose from the ponytail that held the rest of her hair hostage. Hair I wanted to tangle my hands in again. Skin I wanted to lick, kiss, suck. So damn tempting.

  “So I push down on my toe,” she said, leaning forward, and I couldn’t help it. I missed her closeness like I missed air when I dove under the break of the sea. I leaned with her, my hand resting on her thigh.

  To check.

  To check that she was feeling it in all the right places.

  My cock stirred to life once more at the touch of my hand on her silky-smooth skin, and I cursed. Clearly, one of us was feeling something in all the right places, and that person most definitely was me.

  “Then arm back …” Everly continued, oblivious to my inner turmoil as she drew her elbow up.

  “More like …” I ran my hand along her forearm, wrapping my fingers around her wrist. Longing jolted through me from the touch, the way my body was wrapped around hers. The way I could smell her still, so good, so sweet, and all it would take was just a simple turn of the head for her to kiss me. For me to kiss her. For all this want and lust and desire to finally explode.

  “Cameron,” she whispered, her body melding back into mine, and if she ever doubted how I felt about her, there was no hiding it now.

  I took her hand, pulling it closer, lower. Her chest heaved with her laboured breaths, and damn it, I couldn’t take my eyes off the glorious swell of her tits. I pulled her into me, her body so soft, so sweet. She moved forward, and I didn’t know if the punch was coming from her leg, or from her arm, but all I knew was that I felt it everywhere. I felt the moment between us, the two of us connecting, in my mind, my body, and my heart. And damn it, it was intense.

  I didn’t let go of her wrist, and she leaned back against me. Her head tilted up and I sunk into those goddamn ocean eyes once more. “Everly …” I husked. She exhilarated me. Left me feeling as if I’d done ten rounds with the bag.

  “Cameron …” She licked her lips, and I made the decision.

  There were so many reasons why this was wrong, but those lips, those sweet cherry lips, were just one of the reasons this was right. The desire between us was too much, too strong.

  Everly offered me hope. Hope for a future.

  Hope for a life that was better than this.

  I ran my hand up her side, brushing the swell of her chest, trailing up her neck. She didn’t break eye contact, not once. God, I wanted her.

  I lowered my mouth, stopping a centimetre from those lips I wanted to sink into. Everything was loaded in this moment. Tension tightened between us, and I couldn’t fight this anymore. This moment was more than just the two of us coming together. It was letting go. It was moving on. It was—

  Piper cried out.

  It wasn’t the cry of a baby just waking from sleep.

  More that of a demon releasing the harpies.

  I stepped back. My hand fell from Everly’s. The moment, the tight string of tension—it snapped.

  “Sorry. I, uh …” I gestured toward the door. “I gotta go.”

  “Go. Go.” She hurried me out, pulling one glove from her hand as I turned to head inside. And I couldn’t decide if Piper just stopped the best or the worst thing from ever happening to me.

  Chapter 19

  Silence was like the rolling boom of thunder as we drove. Aside from the occasional clipped “left here”, “turn right”, no words were exchanged. The atmosphere between us was tense.

  I couldn’t stop thinking about the almost kiss. Was it a good thing? Was I ready?

  But ready for what? Bella had been my life. My everything. My soul mate. How could I ever be ready to be with someone else when if she were still here, we’d be together?

  But she wasn’t here.

  And Everly was.

  Everly was quiet. Of course, Piper was not, and she alternated between screaming and cooing along to the songs. It seemed she had a thing for The Eagles. Whenever they came on, her tone noticeably softened, and I found myself humming along to the familiar tunes. Take it easy. A life message I needed right now. The sound of my own wheels were definitely driving me crazy.

  “Do you think her mother listened to this song when she was pregnant?” Everly finally broke the standoff between us.

  I shot her a quick smile, appreciative. One of us had to talk first. “Perhaps.” I slowed as the car neared a set of lights. “Although to be honest, Giselle doesn’t really strike me as a fan of the classics.”

  “What about this car?” She tapped at the dash. “You said it was hers, right?”

  I snorted. “I guess classic would be one word you could use to describe this old thing. Cheap might be another.”

  As soon as I said the word, I felt bad. Lord knew why. I was sure Giselle wouldn’t stand up for me if the situation were reversed.

  “Go easy on her.” Everly seemed to read my mind.

 
; “I know, I shouldn’t have said that. It must be hard, being without …” I glanced at Piper in the rear-view. The mirror above her seat reflected a baby shaking her head in time to the music. “She’s so beautiful.”

  And she was. How I felt about this child grew and grew with each passing second.

  “That.” Everly snapped her fingers, and I turned to her while we were stopped in traffic. “That right there. It’s what I never saw from Bentley.”

  “Saw what?” I frowned. “The ability to stop at a set of lights while holding a conversation?”

  “No.” She softly punched my arm. “That look of complete adoration and love you have going on. You adore Piper. You care for her so much. I can see it in”—she circled her finger around my face—“in that.”

  Once again, Everly left me feeling as if the sun had shone inside of my body, warming every piece of me up.

  “And turn right here.” She pointed to an upcoming street sign.

  I tensed. Was she …? “You’re not taking us where I think you are, are you?”

  She let loose a long breath. “Well, I’ve been—”

  “Everly!” I tapped the steering wheel, but I didn’t use my full force. I couldn’t believe I hadn’t realised we were headed here earlier. Granted we had come in from a different direction, thanks to my devious navigator, but still. “I don’t think this is a good idea.”

  “You haven’t been back yet, have you?”

  I shook my head once, quick. How did she know?

  “I thought it might have been too hard with Piper, but you have to go back and see him. Didn’t you say you were worried this was why he relapsed in the first place?”

  “Yes, but—” I bit my tongue. But what? I didn’t want to take Piper? Everly being there with me had resolved that problem. I wanted more time to prepare? How much longer did my old man have?

  I turned the car into the drive, gravel crunching under the tyres. “Everly, you can’t just ambush me like this. A little notice, some time to prepare—”

  “And you might have chickened out. I’m not going to force you to walk through those doors—but I am going to be here to walk beside you.” There was fire in her voice. “I will hold Piper’s hand, so help me, God, I’ll hold your hand if you need it, but if you don’t go back now, you’re going to regret this for the rest of your life.”

  Regret.

  It was something that played on my mind so much already.

  I regretted going to the café that day. I regretted pushing to eat when we weren’t even supposed to be there.

  I didn’t want to add to that list.

  I didn’t want to add to it ever again.

  “Okay.” I nodded, unclicking my seatbelt and opening the door. “Okay.”

  We got out of the car, and I put Piper in her pram. My shoulders tensed, and every step I took was short. Clipped. To the point. Get in and get out. Shield your emotions.

  That way, no one would get hurt.

  That would never be true.

  I hurt every moment I’m here.

  I power-walked through the entry doors, stopping at the front desk to sign in.

  “Why hello there, Cameron. I see you’ve brought some special visitors today.” The receptionist’s eyes twinkled. Christ.

  “Hi.” I scribbled our names on the roster as quickly as I could.

  “It’s a nice day out there, isn’t it?” she chattered on. “Do you three have plans after this? I can recommend the fish-and-chip shop down on the beach. Just opened, and their salt-and-pepper squid is to. Die. For.”

  “I’ll keep it in mind,” I muttered, turning to charge down the hall.

  “Thanks so much, Janet. It was nice of you to tell us about that,” Everly, all sweetness and light, said, then followed me, pushing the pram. She didn’t say anything. She didn’t have to.

  “I’m being a jerk, aren’t I?” I stopped outside Dad’s room, awaiting the judgment I knew was coming.

  “Yep. But I get it.” She linked her fingers through mine, and I felt her support in every fibre of my being. “It’s hard for you to be here, so you try and arsehole everyone away.”

  “I do. But … it’s no excuse.” My chest shuddered as I breathed out. “I can’t keep using that as a reason to be a jerk. To close off …”

  “To close off your heart.” She squeezed my hand. “I know. But we’re working on it. We’re working on getting your heart back.”

  Getting my heart back. That sounded so good. How did I get so lucky as to have her here with me?

  “I’m going in.” I paused, looking at the two of them. “Will you …?”

  “You want us to go hang out somewhere for a while?” Everly asked.

  Piper smiled, only it was more like a grimace. I read something the other day about twelve-month molars. How they could start to cause pain and irritation around the eight-to-nine-month mark. Maybe her teeth were bothering her today.

  I want to stop pretending. I wanted my dad to meet his granddaughter. I wanted him to see her, and I wanted to tell him about the teeth thing, get his take on it. I wanted Piper to meet my old man and know that there were more people in this world who would love her. More people to call her family.

  “No. I don’t want to go in alone.” I placed one hand on the doorknob. “Let’s do this as a team.”

  If Everly was surprised, she didn’t say so. She simply followed me into the room, pushing the pram and parking it in the corner.

  Dad lay still. His eyes were shut, his mouth slightly parted, and even in sleep he seemed tired, purple shadows under his eyes, the lines around his mouth deeper than they were before.

  “Hey Dad.” I sunk into a chair next to the bed as Everly unclipped the buckles in the pram and let Piper out. “How you doing?”

  His eyes crept open. For one moment, one short moment, I prayed. I prayed that this was the time he remembered me. That this was the time he was here, in the present, not on a loop somewhere in the past.

  “Wh … who are you?”

  “Your son.” I swallowed, my mouth suddenly dry. “I’ve come to visit, and I’ve brought my daughter. Piper.”

  “Your …” He frowned, grey eyes tracking over the room until they rested on the little girl crawling toward his bed. She pulled herself up on my leg, and her tiny arms reached high above her head as she asked to be lifted. Dad didn’t take his eyes off her. A smile twitched at his lips. “Your Piper.”

  “My Piper.” I placed her on my knee. She looked toward Dad, almost as enamoured with him as he seemed to be with her.

  His hand shook as he reached out to touch her. He smiled. “She’s … okay, I guess.”

  I laughed. Okay. It was such a Dad way to describe her, and it made something inside me warm. Because perhaps if he could use words like “okay” to describe this baby girl, there was a part of him inside that was still him. Still the father I loved.

  He gave a small shake of his head, as if trying to clear the fog from it, then looked at me, his shaggy brows drawn into a deep frown. “Now, I’m here to meet my family, so I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

  “Dad …” I sighed. God, this doesn’t hurt any less, no matter how many times I say it. “Dad, you’re not at the café anymore.”

  “What are you talking about?” He pushed up onto his elbows. Piper wriggled a little closer to my chest. “Are you trying to pull one over me, boy?”

  “No, Dad. You’re in a hospital, in Magenta. You’ve been here since—”

  “Don’t tell me where I am,” Dad yelled. Piper squawked.

  I pulled her closer still. “Dad, keep your voice down.”

  “Stop calling me that, and—”

  “Hi. I’m Everly.”

  Christ.

  Everly. I’d forgotten she was here.

  I took a deep breath. I’d tried so hard to keep my cool, but when he yelled, it was hard not to raise your voice back.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you …?” Everly walked to the other side o
f the bed and held her hand out for Dad to shake.

  His eyes were wide.

  It was as if he were entranced. He sunk into his pillow, his fists unclenching, and a small smile crossed his lips. “Everly. What a beautiful name.”

  I gave an internal fist pump. Yeah, it is, Dad. It is.

  “I’m Donald. Donald Lewis.” He took her hand and shook it. “It’s nice to meet you, too.”

  “How are you feeling today, Donald?” Her voice was so soft and gentle. So patient. She was great with him.

  “I’m … I’m okay, thank you. A little sore in the leg.”

  Everly didn’t say a word. Neither of us looked at the place where those limbs should have been.

  “I’m havin’ you on, dear girl. I don’t have legs. See?” He roared with laughter, slapping the sheet beside him where his thigh should have continued.

  I was shocked. He didn’t have … he knew? Had he always known? Was this new?

  Everly laughed along with him, her voice so melodious compared to his gravelly caw. “You’re very funny, Mr Lewis.”

  “I try. I try.” He winked. “And please. Call me Donald.”

  “Okay … Donald,” she said. “What are you up to today?”

  “I’m just trying to have a coffee and some lunch.” He shot me a look that was part resentment. Of course. He was back at the café again.

  “Fabulous. I’m just going to order. Would you like me to get something for you too?” she asked.

  What was she doing? We weren’t at a goddamn café. This was a recovery centre, and lunch wasn’t served for another hour and a half.

  “I’d love that, if you don’t mind?”

  “Of course not. What can I get?” She was all smiles, as if she wasn’t about to send my father on a downward spiral.

  “Everly,” I warned, but she ignored me.

  “I’ll have a tea, black with one sugar, please. And perhaps some of that banana bread,” he said.

  “No problem. I’ll go get that for you, but can I ask you a quick favour first?”

  Dad frowned. “Yes. Of course.”

  “Can you please sit at the café next door? I’ll need this table in a second for someone else.”