“Mommy.” Ly’s voice pulls my attention to her, and I brace when I see the look in her eyes. “Where’s Denver?”
Crap, I should have known that question was coming. Denver has never canceled on her for any reason, and I’m guessing if that ever did happen, he’d call to talk to her or stop by when he was able to do so.
“Like I told you yesterday, baby, he’s working.”
Her head tips to the side and her eyes study me for a long time, so long I fight the urge to squirm or look away from her. “Can I call him?”
“Of course,” I whisper, feeling my throat tighten with anxiety as I pick up my cell. Once I dial Denver’s number, I hand her the phone then watch her face fall when he doesn’t answer. With my nails digging into my palms, I listen to her leave him a message telling him she misses him.
“He didn’t answer,” she tells me, handing me back the phone, and I end the call.
“He’ll call you back.” I hope it’s not a lie. I hope that, for Ly’s sake, the issues between us don’t seep over into his relationship with her. I pull her onto my lap and kiss the top of her head. “How about we get dressed and head to the library for story time?” I suggest. “We can also return all your books and check out some new ones while we’re there.”
“Okay.”
“Okay.” I give her a tight squeeze before placing her on her feet, murmuring, “Turn off your iPad and take your bowl to the kitchen, honey.”
With a nod, she does as I asked, and then I take her upstairs to dress before getting myself ready while she sits on my bed watching me.
My phone chimes, letting me know I have a message as I’m buckling Ly in her car seat, so I pull it out of my back pocket and check the screen. When I see the message from Denver, my chest actually aches.
Denver: Tell Lyra I’m working, that I love her, and I’ll talk to her soon.
I don’t respond to the text. I don’t think he wants or expects me to. But I do relay his message to Ly, and when I do, her tiny face scrunches up in little girl annoyance. “He didn’t call me back.”
“He’s busy, honey,” I say as I tighten the straps to keep her in place.
“He always calls or comes to see me. He’s never too busy for me.”
She, of course, has a point, but then again, that was before her mommy was an idiot. “He’ll call.”
“Promise?”
God, as pissed as I am at myself for acting like I did, I’m starting to get mad at Denver. If he didn’t start this mess, Ly wouldn’t be confused and things would be like they’ve always been.
“Promise.” I kiss her forehead then slam her door. I climb in behind the wheel of my Suburban and start the engine. Still feeling pissed, I send Denver a message without thinking.
Me: This is exactly why I didn’t want to go there with you. Ly is now seriously disappointed and confused. I understand you’re pissed at me, but you shouldn’t let that affect things between you and her.
After I press Send, I bite my lip, and then my jaw clenches when I see his immediate reply.
Denver: You don’t want to go there with me, because you’re a coward. Don’t use Lyra as an excuse. And I’d never let anything affect my relationship with her, and you know that shit.
Me: You’re an asshole.
I press Send then wish I didn’t. I don’t want to fight with him. I don’t want to argue or push him away anymore than I already have, but that’s exactly what I’m going to do. Or I think so, until I see his response.
Denver: An asshole you’re in love with. You need to come to terms with that, Bre, because like I said before, you and I are going to find a way to work this out. By the way, I heard you canceled your date with Mike. Smart move, baby.
“Oh my God,” I hiss, angrily tossing my phone into the passenger seat. I’m so furious I actually want to scream at the top of my lungs and pound my fist into the dashboard. The only reason I don’t is because Ly would totally freak out if I did. How the hell does he know I canceled my date with Mike? And what the hell is going on with him? I thought after he dropped me off and didn’t answer or return my call that he was done. I shouldn’t feel relieved that he hasn’t given up on me, but I do, and that just makes me even more pissed.
“Mommy, are we going to go?”
I look over my shoulder, plastering a smile on my face. “Yep.”
I put the truck in reverse, back out of my spot, and then drive us to the library, where we spend some time listening to a story then wandering around looking for books to check out. After we leave the library, we stop by the house, and I load up my canoe and pack us a lunch to eat at the lake. We spend the rest of the day out on the water cruising around. When we return home, we watch a movie, eat some dinner, and after I get Ly showered and into bed, I go to bed myself.
Two hours later, after tossing and turning, I give up on sleep and get up. I put on a pair of socks and grab one of my old sweatshirts, pulling it down over my head as I walk to the front door with my e-reader and baby monitor. The night is cool but not freezing, so I curl up in one of the chairs on the front porch, tucking my legs under my sweatshirt. Just as I’m starting to get to the good part in the story, I feel a presence join me on the porch, and from the sudden awareness in my body, I know who it is without looking.
“Why are you here?” I don’t look up as Denver takes the seat next to mine and stretches his long legs out, resting his boot-covered feet on the rail.
“I tried to call Lyra. Your phone went to voicemail,” he replies. Crap, I forgot to charge my cell when we got home. It died when we were out on the lake and I didn’t have my backup charger—something that was seriously stupid to forget. “Were you ignoring my calls?”
My head flies up and my eyes narrow. “No. Unlike you, I’ve never ignored your calls. My phone died when we were out on the lake. When we got home, I didn’t remember to charge it.”
Something shifts in his expression as his eyes scan my face. “I wasn’t ignoring your calls, baby. I was busy. A friend needed my help getting his boat back in to port after his engine went out. My cell doesn’t work out there; only my satellite phone does.”
“Right.” I shake my head before dropping my eyes back to my book.
“Are you ready to talk to me?”
My eyes go to his once again. “No.”
“Right.” He smirks, and something about that expression makes me want to both kiss him and smack him. I curl my hands into fists, and his eyes drop to my lap, his smirk turning into a smile like he knows exactly the contradictory thoughts I’m having.
“Why are you here?” I repeat.
“I think you know that answer.” He wraps his hand around my wrist. I drop my gaze and watch as he forces my hand open to lace his fingers with mine. “We need to talk.”
“We don’t.”
I try to pull away, but he tugs on my hand, pulling me closer to him. “How did you feel yesterday when I drove off?” At his softly spoken question, my body freezes, but my blood starts to rush hard through my veins, causing a swoosh, swoosh sound to fill my ears. “You didn’t like it. I know you didn’t.”
“Let me go.”
“No,” he growls with a shake of my hand, and I look into his eyes. “You don’t want or need me to let go. One of us needs to fight for this, Bre, and until you’re ready to start fighting, that person is me.”
“Den—”
He cuts me off again as his eyes drop to my mouth. “Tell me you’ve had a kiss like the one we shared. Tell me you’ve had that with someone else.” I swallow as I watch his lips move. If I said that, it would be a lie. Gabe and I never shared a kiss like that, ever. “I’ve never had that before, Bre. I’ve never felt what I feel for you with anyone else, and I know.” His hand squeezes mine. “I fucking know, down to my fucking gut, that this… this is worth fighting for. This is worth everything.”
Tears start to fill my eyes, and I as I drop my head forward to hide them from him, he stops me, touching his forehead to mine and
keeping our eyes locked.
“I know you’re scared.”
“Stop,” I whisper, closing my eyes and cutting him out the only way I can. “This is…. This can’t happen. I care about you, but we can’t do this. Ly will suffer, and that isn’t fair to her. She lost Gabe. She never knew him but misses him. Losing you would devastate her. She’s attached to you, and….” I was going to say I can’t risk losing him either, but I’m not ready to be that honest.
“I love her too. I’m not going anywhere, and I would never let anything jeopardize my relationship with her.”
“This is too much too fast.” I close my eyes then open them when I feel his body start to shake. Seeing he’s laughing, I frown. “Why are you laughing?”
“You said this is fast.” He laughs harder, dropping his face to the crook of my neck and laughing there loudly.
“This is fast. And I still don’t know why you think that’s funny.”
He pulls his face from my neck and his expression sobers instantly. “Four years, Bre. Four fucking years I’ve been waiting for my shot, and that time does not fucking include the years before that.” My breath leaves on a whoosh as he releases my hand and captures my face between his palms. “This? This is not fast.”
“It is.”
His gaze roams over my face, and then his eyes stop to my mouth, my stomach muscles tightening in anticipation as he shakes his head. “Not fast enough,” he mumbles, right before he pulls me forward and places his lips against mine. Just like the last time he kissed me, he demands for me to “open.” Unlike the last time, I don’t fight it.
My mouth opens, and when his tongue slides across mine, I whimper. He still taste like the ocean and sunshine, but instead of cherries and mint, his taste is mixed with something richer, like chocolate and coconut. When he pulls back to nip my bottom lip, I nip him in return, feeling his chest vibrate as his deep growl rolls across my tongue. I don’t put up a fight when he pulls me from my chair and onto his lap. My body that is already buzzing becomes a livewire as his hand slides up my outer thigh, over my hip and the curve of my waist, stopping just under my breast. I arch into him, wanting to feel his touch, needing it more than my next breath.
The slide of his thumb across my nipple causes me to gasp, my core to flood with wet heat, and my pussy to spasm. I’m so turned on that I roll my hips into his, and beg “please” against his mouth without thinking of anything but getting more of his touch.
Without a word, he picks me up and carries me into the house, his mouth never leaving mine. Instead of my bedroom, he carries me into the living room, straight to the couch. As soon as my back hits the sofa, his weight settles between my legs and I moan, feeling his thickness through his jeans. His mouth leaves mine so he can pull my sweatshirt off, and as soon as it’s over my head, he tosses it to the floor then looks down at the old T-shirt I’m wearing.
“Only you can you make an old-ass tee look hot,” he says, taking my shirt up as his hands slide against my oversensitive skin.
My head falls back and my eyes close in embarrassment. I’m probably the only woman over the age of twenty-five who doesn’t own one sexy nightie or a cute pair of pajamas. I bet every woman he’s been with before only ever wore lingerie to bed when there was even a possibility he would be around.
“Look at me, baby,” he demands, as both hands cup my breasts. My eyes fly open and my back arches, forcing my breast deeper into his palms. “I want you as you are.” Feeling my heart start to pound, I wonder if I said what I was thinking earlier out loud. “I love you just the way you are,” he states, looking into my eyes.
Before I can react to his declaration, his head dips and his tongue circles one nipple and he pulls it deep into his mouth, sucking hard. My head arches back into the couch while one of his hands moves down my stomach and under the waistband of my shorts. His mouth leaves my breast and captures mine once more as his fingers slide between my folds.
“So goddamn wet,” he growls into my mouth, and I moan into his while he rolls his fingers over my clit. When he thrust two fingers deep inside me, I gasp from the sudden fullness. He pulls his lips away and rests his forehead against mine. “Tight, so fucking tight. Fuck.” He fingers fuck into me ruthlessly, curving up and hitting just the right spot. “Keep you’re eyes open and on me.”
I try. I really do. But it’s too much. Him looking at me, his scent surrounding me, his weight heavy between my legs, his groans filling my ears. It’s all too much, way too much. I need to block something out. My eyes start to slide closed again but then spring open when he nips my neck hard.
“Open your eyes. Do not take them off mine. I want to know you see me, that you know it’s my hand between your legs.” His fingers still, as he growls, “I want you to see it’s me who’s fingering you to orgasm.”
His dirty words, his fingers thrusting back into me harder than before, and his thumb rolling over my clit sends me over the edge. I come moaning his name while looking into his eyes. My body spasms, my muscles bunch, and my breath gets stuck in my throat as I ride out my orgasm with my eyes locked with his.
“I knew you’d be beautiful when you came for me.” His words whisper across my lips, and my eyes slide closed as he peppers kisses down my jaw.
How the hell did I go from arguing with Denver on my front porch, to having him make me come with his hands between my legs on my couch—giving me the best orgasm of my entire life? My thighs tighten as he removes his fingers from my still pulsing core, and I bite my lip to keep from whimpering at the loss. When his fingers graze my oversensitive clit, my hips buck and my cheeks heat with embarrassment. I can’t believe that just happened. It’s not that I’ve never had an orgasm before, but I’ve always had to work for every one I’ve gotten. More often than not, I wouldn’t even get there, because it just took too long for me to relax enough to enjoy sex or foreplay. Even after all the years Gabe and I were together, I was never able to loosen up enough to get off without a lot of work on my part.
“Bre.”
“I… I don’t know what just happened,” I whisper.
“Look at me, Bre.”
“That’s never happened.” I don’t know if I’m humiliated or shocked by my body’s response to him.
“What’s never happened?”
“Nothing.” I shake my head, keeping my eyes closed.
“Bre, look at me.”
“Get off me.”
“No.”
God, why is he so annoying?
“Look at me,” he growls.
My eyes snap open and narrow on him. “Can you get off me?” I ask angrily, as panic starts to fill my chest.
“What’s never happened?”
“Nothing.” I try to sit up, but his heavy weight still between my legs doesn’t give me much room to move.
“Talk to me.”
“No,” I retort, trying to get away, but it’s like I’m a mouse trying to push a boulder up a hill. Totally and utterly pointless.
“What’s never happened?” he repeats, and my already hard-beating heart starts to pound out of control. “What’s never happened?”
“I’ve never come that easily,” I snap. “Are you happy now?” I shove at his chest and buck my hips, but he doesn’t move, and it takes me a moment to register that his body has gone still above mine. Why did I admit that? I turn my head away and focus on the wall across the room, too embarrassed to look at him. “Please move off of me.”
“Bre.”
“Please,” I whisper desperately.
He moves, and I instantly scuttle away from him and sit back against the couch. Tucking my legs up against my chest, I wrap my arms around my shins, resting my forehead to my knees as I wonder what the hell is wrong with me.
“Baby.” His fingers slide through the hair at the side of my head. “What you just gave me was beautiful.” Tears fill my eyes and I shake my head. “So damn beautiful the way you let go for me.” He forces my head up with his hand under my chin, and his
eyes search mine for a long moment before he moves away. I expect him to leave, but instead, he picks me up and settles me sideways on his lap. “You gotta know it’s not on you that you couldn’t get there with him.”
Oh my God. My heart sinks as guilt fills my stomach and crawls up the back of my throat.
“Stop,” I choke out.
“Baby, it’s okay,” he says soothingly, rubbing my back.
“I loved him,” I implore quietly, feeling defensive and needing him to know that my feelings for Gabe were real.
“That’s not in question,” he assures gently, running his thumb over my cheek.
“We were happy.”
“I know that too,” he agrees instantly, still talking gently.
God, why is he being so sweet? Why, when I need him to leave? “He… he was my first everything.”
His arms around me tighten, his jaw clenches, and his eyes flash, before he bites out, “Yeah, but he’s gone.”
That hurt, but not for the reasons it should have. It hurts, because I hurt him and did it on purpose. Without another word, he moves me off his lap. When I’m settled on the couch, he stands then leans over me, placing his fist in the cushions on either side of my hips. “I gotta work, so I’m gonna be gone a couple days.”
Heart sinking, I stare into his eyes, then stutter, “W-what?”
“I’ll call Lyra tomorrow night before she goes to bed.”
He leans in, and I think he’s going to place a kiss to my forehead, but at the last second, he pulls back. Then he’s gone, and I listen to the door close behind him. Chin wobbling, tears running down my cheeks, I stare at the space he just occupied, wondering why I said the things I did and why the hell I just let him walk away. Again.
ONE LAST WISH Page 8