“Hello, Cameron?”
I tensed. Shit, shit, shit. Calls that started that way rarely ended well. “Yes?”
“It’s Eleanor from Magenta. Do you have a moment?”
My heart raced. I clutched the phone tighter. “What … what is it?”
Please let him be okay. Please, God, let him be okay.
“I just thought I’d let you know Donald’s had a really good day,” she continued, and hallelujah. Oh, thank Christ.
I doubled over in relief, my hands resting on my knees, as if all the strength had left my upper body. “Good.” My voice cracked over the word. “That’s … that’s damn good.”
“It is. He wasn’t present all the time, but the bomb never went off. He was here, he was in the café—he was happy, Cameron,” Eleanor said. She was an angel. She was a goddamn angel.
“That’s great. Thank you so much for letting me know.” A surge of emotion washed over me, and tears pricked at my eyes. I was such a damn pansy. But this, this combined with Giselle’s potential acceptance of my role in Piper’s life—it was almost too much. Everything was turning out—okay.
Better than okay.
Really goddamn good.
“I have to say, I think your increased visits have helped. And bringing your daughter and wife with you—he just lights up when he sees them. You can tell that having familial love around him is aiding his recovery tenfold,” she said.
Guilt pricked at my conscience, but I let the comment slide. Because my wife wasn’t coming back. And perhaps Everly was the closest thing I had to a connection for Dad.
I thanked Eleanor again and hung up the phone, then carried the sleeping child inside to bed. My sleeping child.
She barely stirred as I settled her into the crib, and I gave myself a mental high-five. I was the master of the car-to-crib transfer now. If they were giving out medals, I’d be a podium finish for sure.
I just needed to make sure I stayed that way.
In the race for custody of this child, I wasn’t going to come last.
No goddamn way.
“It’s as if Giselle thinks our child has a finite amount of love to give, but she doesn’t.” I gave the bag one last punch, explaining the situation to Everly toward the end of our training session. It’d only been a week, but already she was getting stronger, her punches more direct. “Piper has so much love. And I’m not going to steal it away from her.”
“She’ll come around.” Everly sighed, taking a swig from her water bottle before placing it on top of a pile of boxes. Sweat sparkled over her skin, a fine sheen my fingers itched to touch.
“She has to realise you’re a great option for Piper when it comes to a father figure. You’ve got a job. You’re not some dropkick, out breaking the law.” She didn’t say it, but I could tell she was thinking of Giselle. I’d told Everly she was in prison, and she hadn’t been impressed. “You love your daughter. You genuinely care for her.”
“I do love her,” I admitted, and saying that aloud—it felt so perfect. So right. “And I won’t let anyone stand in the way of that.” I paused, pulling off my gloves and placing them next to Everly’s water bottle. Up close, I could smell her—that wild scent of sweat mixed in with the sweet lemon that was so uniquely her. My body tensed. What I’d give just to taste …
As Everly turned to the door, I remembered. “Oh! Wait here.”
I ducked inside the house, coming out a second later with the box I’d ordered Monday night after she came around. It had arrived today. “Here.” I thrust it toward her just as a clap of thunder sounded outside.
“For me?” She tilted her head, examining the parcel. “It’s not my birthday.”
“Then it’s lucky I didn’t get a card, too.” I leaned back against the wall, my arms folded across my chest as she unwrapped the parcel.
“My own set of gloves?” She grinned, and I grinned, because looking at her smile—it did that to me. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“I didn’t, but I wanted to do something. What you said that day at the care centre—honest love. They called today, said Dad’s had his best day in ages.”
“That’s great.” She placed the box down on one of the box towers to her right.
“That’s not just great. That’s … that’s you.” I stepped forward, that pull there again. Why do I keep fighting this pull between us?
Maybe being with Everly wouldn’t be betraying my wife.
Maybe it would be starting something new.
I’d already found the capacity to love Piper. And I’d just said it myself—there wasn’t a finite amount of love in a person. You didn’t tap out once you’d loved so much, given so much of your heart to another.
I moved closer again. Her chest heaved with each breath, and I knew. I wanted her.
Wanted this.
Wanted us.
“Cameron?” she asked, her voice a sexy husk.
“This change in him—I’m sure it’s because of your suggestion to stay in the moment, let him live his vision. The nurse mentioned how much happier he seemed since my family came to visit.” I was careful with my choice of words.
“Your family, huh?” That flirty sparkle was in her eyes again.
“Yeah.” Light rain tap-danced on the roof, the clouds finally breaking. “Everly, I liked it. I liked what she said about us being together.”
I closer still. She didn’t back away.
“I’ve been fighting this—this thing between us ever since we met. I thought I was too screwed up. Too broken to ever be in a relationship again, but you …” I shook my head, trying to find the words I needed. “You don’t seem to see that. You call me on my bullshit. You make me snap out of it and try new things. You make me”—I glanced to the ceiling—“God, I sound like an idiot.” But when I refocused on her face, those level blue eyes were looking at me again, and they didn’t hold pity the way other women’s did, and they didn’t harbour the kind of hatred Giselle showed. There was nothing but kindness and care, so I kept going. I owed it to her
I owed it to myself.
Because every now and then in this world, you were given an opportunity. You were on the edge of a cliff, and you could take the safe route, you could back down, or you could say to hell with it all and dive, risking everything for the greatest reward. You were given a chance to do something special, something unique, and just like I’d known it with Piper, I knew then that this was one of those times.
I took a deep breath, ready to jump off that cliff and into the ocean once more. “You make me feel alive, Everly. And when for so many days, weeks, months, I’ve done nothing but exist, that’s more than a miracle. It’s … it’s amazing.”
For a moment, I worried I’d gone too far, said too much.
But Everly closed the distance between us in two quick steps. She jumped and wrapped her legs around my waist. I clutched her to me, my mouth seeking hers in a moment of passion, of lust that had been weeks in the making and had now reached boiling point.
We collided, and our kiss was everything I’d hoped for and more. It was sex and feeling and healing and hope combined. It was two souls needing something to anchor to, finding the same weight and floating together.
I weaved my hand through her hair, pulling free the band that tied it back, and sheets of honey-brown fell around us. I kissed my way down her neck, tasting salt, smelling that touch of lemon that was so uniquely her. Her head tilted back, and I knew that this was it. This was everything.
“Cameron,” she moaned when I pressed her against the wall. Her body slid against mine. Her feet touched the ground. The feel of her, her heat, her curves, shot a thrill straight through me. I ran my hands up her sides, skimmed them over her breasts. She shivered at my touch.
Her chest heaved, her breathing laboured. I wanted her, damn it, I needed her, but I didn’t know where to start. It was almost as if she was the most amazing gift, and I needed to unwrap her slowly, cherish her, love her. No amount of time would e
ver be enough for that. I stepped back, uncertain. Maybe, I loved this woman.
Maybe I was in love with Everly.
She gave a lazy smile, and her arms crossed at her waist. She lifted her T-shirt over her head, until she was in just her sports bra and a pair of tiny shorts. I swallowed. She was perfection.
I advanced toward her again, and this time, I didn’t hesitate. I wrapped my arms around her, pulling her to me in a moment of heat, of pure and primal need. I freed her breasts from the sports bra, yanking the straps down her arms, desperate to feel her. She gasped as my mouth took her nipple, sucking, licking, biting. I was ravenous for the taste of her. Ravenous for her soft, silky flesh.
She grabbed at my pants, pushing the material down, and my cock sprung free. She ran her hand over it as I kicked the shorts away, and it was the most exquisite torture. It was heaven and hell all at once because I wanted this, I needed this, but I also needed more.
I needed so damn much more.
“I want you inside of me,” she whispered in a tone full of desire.
Yes. I pulled down her shorts, then grabbed her legs, bringing her up around my waist. Her core rubbed against my cock, and it felt incredible. She was wet through the thin cotton material of her panties, and I wanted inside. I wanted it more than I’d wanted anything in so damn long.
But—
Shit.
I’d made this mistake once before, and even though I now viewed the outcome as a blessing, I wasn’t ready to go through it again.
“Condom,” I gasped, my breath coming short and fast. I teased Everly’s nipple with my hand, and she cried out in pleasure. “I don’t have …”
“I’m clean, and I can’t have babies, remember?”
Thank fuck.
She slammed her lips to mine. Our tongues, our teeth clashed in urgency. “I need you in me now.”
With her back against the wall, I yanked her panties aside, then positioned myself at her entrance.
I stopped, slowing my breathing, looking into ocean blue eyes looking right back at me. In the eye of the storm, there was this moment. This moment of truth. This moment I’d been simultaneously trying to avoid and yet hoping like hell would happen for the past four weeks, ever since I met this beautiful woman, ever since she came into my life and showed me just how lost I’d become. How I could still live.
“Do it,” she begged. “Please.”
I thrust inside her. She was wet, so wet, so hot, so tight, and her cry seemed to echo in my heart. This was everything. It was perfection.
Slowly, I thrust in and out, in and out, and she grabbed my shoulders, her nails scoring my skin. The storm built, low, and thunderous, and goddamn wonderful.
I reached down and ran one finger through her folds, teasing her clit, flicking that bundle of nerves. She shivered, her head back, and her breathing faster, and it was all the urging on I needed. I teased. I thrust. And she called out my name over and over, building toward a glorious climax.
The sight of her, her tits tempting me, the feel of her, so hot around me—it was my undoing. Our sweat and our kisses and our sex collided, and as my orgasm neared, there was no her, no me—just this. Just this moment of passion and heat and emotion that was ours and ours alone.
The storm got heavier, faster, and then the storm was us. We were this wild energy that couldn’t be stopped—a force of nature that just had to be.
“Want to feel you come,” I grunted as the urge became bigger, stronger.
“Cameron! Yes!” she cried, and as she tightened around me, lightning shot down my spine and I came.
“Everly,” I breathed, pulling her as close to me as she could get. She wrapped her arms around my neck, her body giving slow shudders of delight.
“Cameron,” she whispered in my ear.
Slowly, I walked us away from the wall, pushing open the door to the house. I carried her to the lounge, placing her onto the blue material as if she were made of china. “Let me get you a cloth,” I said, and even though I hated to do it, I pulled out of her, missing the way it felt to be inside her as soon as she was gone.
I pulled on a pair of board shorts, grabbed a hand towel from the linen cupboard, and moved into the bathroom. As I waited for the water to turn from cold to warm, I stared at myself in the mirror. The same blue eyes stared back at me. The same mouth that used to kiss Bella was swollen from too much lust.
Guilt gnawed at my gut again, but this time, I was in control.
“I remember,” I whispered, not breaking eye contact. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t have this.”
This.
Another chance at love.
In the living room, I heard my phone ding with a message. Probably Mack. I checked the water again, and this time, it was room temperature. What will he say when I tell him I’m moving out of my apartment?
He wouldn’t believe it. He’d stuck by me, thank God, but he was very aware how dark and listless my life had become.
And yet, as I wrung the towel out and turned off the faucet, the man in the mirror looked happy.
He looked happier than he’d ever been before.
And I knew that if I was to start a letter now, there were two very important topics I’d have to bring up—two subjects I needed to tell Bella about.
Piper, the daughter I loved having in my life.
And Everly, the woman who brought life back to me.
Chapter 22
Something was wrong.
I knew it as soon as I reached the lounge room.
Everly sat on the couch. She was wearing her T-shirt and shorts again, and her bra was stuffed in a ball beside her.
It was the expression on her face that was the problem.
She’d left her moans of ecstasy in the garage.
“What is it?” My chest felt leaden.
She regretted this.
She wished it’d never happened.
Even as I feared the worst, I knew it couldn’t be true. She’d flirted. She’d acted as if she wanted this for far longer than I had. She had to like me, or why did she stick with Piper, with Dad for as long as she had? Why stick with me?
Her arm shook as she held out my phone. Her skin, flushed with red just a few minutes ago, was as white as the stark light shining in from the garage.
“What …” I took it from her and draped the washcloth over the corner of the couch.
My app was open. She’d read my message.
My eyes focused on the screen.
I couldn’t breathe.
This. This was the goddamn worst thing that could have happened. It felt as if someone had a vice around my chest, and they were pulling it tighter with every second.
That new message wasn’t from Mack.
It was from Wayne.
And I wasn’t in my own Facebook account anymore.
Wayne: Look, Cameron, I know you’ve set up a fake profile for Giselle. I showed it to her when I visited, and she told me it must have been you. What kind of a freak does that? You’re like some crazy kind of stalker.
I stopped reading and looked at Everly. God, no. She knew I’d lied to her. She knew I …
“I’m sorry,” I croaked.
But she shook her head, as if I’d missed the point. “It’s not that.” Her voice was strange, as if it belonged to someone else. Someone watching this scene play out from far, far away.
What else could it be?
I turned back to the message, reading on.
Wayne: She also told me you been threatening for custody of that kid.
Giselle just needed someone with some cash to care for Piper.
It’s why she chose you.
Chose me? I didn’t understand. I looked at Everly, as if she had the answers, but she was still pale, still shaking. What the hell did this all mean?
I paused. I didn’t want to read anymore. Whatever Wayne had to say couldn’t be that important. Some dropkick ex of Giselle’s was nothing to me.
But that sick ball of dread t
hat had started rolling when I left the bathroom was bigger now. It’d reached wrecking-ball proportions. It was that same feeling you got when you saw a fist flying toward your face. You knew it was going to hurt. You knew that soon, you were going to be in pain.
And yet I couldn’t look away.
I couldn’t goddamn turn my head.
With a sigh, I readied myself to read the last two lines. I’d fix things with Everly, no matter what this message said. It wouldn’t change the things that counted—Piper, and my plans for the future. Nothing Wayne said could ruin that.
I took a deep breath.
I read.
Wayne: You’ll never get custody, because you’re not the kid’s father.
I am.
Two simple words.
I am.
No. But Piper was mine. I loved her. I’d been caring for her, damn it. How could he be the father when we’d just built this world together?
I clutched the phone tighter, as if I could crush it in my grip. If only that would make the message go away. I loved Piper. She was mine. Wasn’t she?
Words from my meetings with Giselle rang in my ears. “That’s why I asked you, Cameron. Out of all the people I knew, you were the least likely to try take her from me.” She hadn’t meant that because of my obsession with the past. She’d meant it because I wouldn’t have a legal leg to stand on. “You can’t take her away from me.”
My stomach lurched. Bile rose in my throat. How—how could she?
How could I have gone from almost having it all to losing everything I loved in the matter of minutes? Who did that? Who manipulated so viciously?
It was as if the rug had been ripped out from under my feet, only the earth had gone too, and I was falling, falling into a pit of nothing.
“Are you okay?”
Everly.
But I didn’t have the energy to fight this right now. Not when the little girl I so cared about was slipping through my fingers.
“Just go.” I buried my head in my hands. “I’ll explain in the morning. I’ll—”
Honest Love (Broken Hearts duet Book 1) Page 14