by Katee Robert
So he met her gaze. “When I said you’re beautiful, I meant every inch of you. That includes this.” He stroked her thigh, down over the scar to her knee. There was nothing of her original skin there, some of it having been grafted from elsewhere during the surgery. “You’re beautiful here, too.”
“Danny—” His name was choked from her lips.
He stopped. “Am I hurting you?”
“No.”
He still didn’t take his hand away. “Do you want me to stop?”
It took her longer to respond this time. Hope shook her head. “I don’t think so.”
In the week she’d been back in town, he’d never heard her sound so unsure—not even when she was waving a box of pregnancy tests in his face. He kissed her thigh. “You don’t have to hide this from me, darling. Not anymore.” It hurt seeing it, but at the same time…it was part of her, and had been part of her for almost as long as she’d had an uninjured leg. If he couldn’t accept this, he had no business pushing her to stay.
When he looked at it like that, it was really no contest. “What do you do when it’s bothering you?”
“Daniel.”
He stopped and met her gaze. “What do you need from me?”
“We can have this conversation later. Right now, I want your mouth and hands on me and your cock buried deep inside me.”
There was no arguing with that. He didn’t want to. Hearing the words—the plea—out of her lips was enough to have him once again battling for control. You promised her you’d make love to her. Falling on her like a starving man isn’t going to cut it. He moved up to settle between her thighs. “Find something to hang on to, darling.”
Chapter Thirteen
Hope couldn’t breathe. She wasn’t sure if it was the fact that she was in bed with Daniel, feeling more naked than she ever had, or the fact that he was going to make love to her, or if her hormones had finally decided to revolt and just finish her off entirely.
Probably a combination of all three.
Daniel’s tongue on her clit slammed her back into the present. He kissed her there like he had every other part of her body on his journey south, like she was the most precious thing he’d ever come across. Like she was as beautiful as he kept claiming.
His hand drifted over her scar, and she tensed, but he didn’t stop what he was doing with his tongue, and it took a grand total of two seconds before she was too busy trying not to squirm to worry about his fingers stroking her jagged skin. She closed her eyes, but that only made the dual sensations more prominent. Hope hissed out a breath. “Danny, you don’t have to do this.”
“This is part of you.” He shifted, pressing a butterfly kiss to her knee, the most mangled part of her. There was no hesitation, and when she looked down her body at him, for once there was no guilt in his eyes. Just a slow appreciation that always seemed to show up when he had her naked. He’d looked at her like that when she was eighteen and, silly her, she’d been sure that would never happen again. Apparently she’d been wrong. He kissed her calf at the bottom of the incision they’d made for the knee replacement. “I said it before, and I’ll say it until our dying day—you’re beautiful, inside and out. You’re so damn strong, it humbles me. That car crash would have broken anyone else who went through what you did. I…” He paused, obviously struggling with the words. “You don’t need my validation, but I am so fucking proud of you. And I am so damn sorry that I missed out on the last thirteen years.”
He reached up and pressed his hand to her stomach just below her belly button. “I let my own head space get in the way of what needed to be done back then, and I promise I won’t do it again. I’m going to be here for you and our baby every step of the way.”
It was what she’d always wanted to hear from him. She wanted nothing more than to give in and relax and just believe, for one damn second, that he was telling the truth. There was no doubt he meant every word of it, but their past had left its mark on her, body and soul. She couldn’t help feeling that things, even as chaotic and insane as they were, were going too well and that the other shoe was about to drop.
“You don’t believe me.” He traced a circle around her belly button with his thumb, the light touch making her shiver. “It’s okay. I damaged your trust, and it’s going to take time to win it back.” He smiled, the expression showing one of the rare hints of the happy young man he used to be. “We have our entire lives ahead of us.”
“I…” There was nothing to say. He was trying. She was trying. Neither one of them could guarantee anything about the future or what it might look like. “Kiss me.”
“You don’t have to tell me twice.” He crawled up to brush his lips over hers, gentle and sweet and full of things she wasn’t ready to name. Except she already had, thirteen years ago. I guess I never really stopped loving Daniel Rodriguez. She pushed him onto his back and straddled him. It wasn’t a position she could hold indefinitely, but she could hold it long enough.
Hope reached between them and gripped his cock, squeezing until he inhaled sharply. There were too many things to say, none of them right, so she didn’t say anything at all. She guided him to her entrance and inside, sinking slowly, inch by inch, until he filled her completely. His hands on her hips urged her on, and she rode him, slowly, luxuriously, the building pleasure so sharp it almost hurt.
“Fuck, darling, this is as close to heaven as I’m ever going to get.”
She kissed him before he could say anything else, trying to draw out the feeling of weightlessness. It was no use. Being with Daniel, having his hands on her body, was just too good. Her orgasm swept over her, stealing any worries about the future, drowning her fears, and leaving only a wonderfully sated feeling in its wake.
He flipped them, pushing deeper yet, and kissed her. He maintained that contact even as his strokes became less smooth and his grip tightened on her. It was almost like he needed her to breathe, and she couldn’t shake the feeling that it was mutual. Hope clung to him as he came, a small part of her believing it couldn’t possibly get better than this.
But what if it could?
Daniel collapsed next to her and pulled her against his chest. She lay staring at the ceiling, a kernel of hope taking root in her chest. There were so many reasons why this would never work, but really, they only needed one for it to actually go the distance. She turned to face Daniel and ran her hand down his chest, needing to voice the realization she’d come across earlier. “I never stopped loving you. Not really.”
His eyes changed, sharpening like a wolf circling a fuzzy bunny. “I know.” He continued before she could process that he’d just Han Solo–ed her ass. “I’ve been holding a flame for you, too. I just never thought I’d get a chance—deserve a chance—to be with you again.”
That was the crux of the matter. He still blamed himself for everything that had happened. She wasn’t idiot enough to think that seven days were enough to change that. She had a decade of therapy under her belt and sometimes she was still caught by the random thought that maybe if she hadn’t had anything to drink, hadn’t been so wrapped up with the promise of a full night alone with Daniel, she would have convinced them not to drive back to Devil’s Falls that night. The guilt never lasted, but only because she’d had it pounded into her head time and time again that she couldn’t go back and change anything. That no one in their car had done anything wrong.
That the true fault lay with the other driver, the one who had veered into their lane.
Daniel hadn’t had the benefit of a neutral party telling him the same thing over and over again until he almost believed it. It would be a long, long time before she could make any headway with him—if ever. If she tried this thing with him for real, she’d have to face that. Trying to change him would only result in misery for both of them.
I hate that he’s been killing himself with guilt this entire time.
He stroked her stomach, his big hand stretching from one hip to the other. “It’s weird to think th
at there’s a baby in here. Aside from you being willing to cut someone’s throat for Greek yogurt, nothing’s really changed—and everything has.” The slow drag of his calluses over her sensitive skin made her shiver. “Do you think it’s a boy or a girl?”
She huffed out a laugh. “I don’t know. Fifty-fifty chance.”
“Yeah, I guess.” A wicked glint appeared in his eyes. “What if it’s twins?”
“Daniel Rodriguez!” She covered his hand with her own. “Why would you say such a horrible thing to me? You remember the Conley twins? I’m pretty sure their mother wasn’t the least bit crazy before she had them, but by the time they graduated she was about ready to commit herself just to get some peace and quiet.”
“Still.” He kept up his absentminded stroking, trailing his fingers across her stomach. “I wouldn’t mind being daddy to a little girl. I bet she’d have your get-up-and-go.” A small line appeared between his brows. “Though the thought of her getting into the kind of trouble we got into isn’t going to make me sleep better at night.”
“We weren’t that bad as kids.” They’d gotten into the same mischief that most teenagers in small towns across America did—bonfires, a little drinking, a whole lot in the way of flirting.
Daniel kissed her temple. “No, not too bad. But it’s different when it’s our kid.”
Our kid.
She still hadn’t quite wrapped her mind around that fact, but it was nice talking like this—like they might both be together by the time the little boy or girl had grown into a hell-raising teenager. “I’d be more worried if the baby is a boy. You four were the ones who got into more trouble than I could dream up.”
A cloud passed over his face, but he made a visible effort to smile. “They did call us the Four Horsemen.”
She’d forgotten about that. She shifted. “It’s all happened so fast. I’m still having a hard time wrapping my mind around the fact I’m pregnant at all, let alone that there will be a baby in May.” A baby. She laced her fingers through Daniel’s. Would the baby have his crooked grin? Her eyes? A mass of dark hair like all the Rodriguez cousins seemed to?
It doesn’t matter. I’ll love him or her the same.
The fierce feeling nearly took her breath away. Hope hadn’t put much thought into being a mother after she and Daniel went their separate ways. It had just hurt too much to contemplate, and though she’d dated a bit over the years, she hadn’t met anyone who’d really made her consider it seriously again. She’d gotten to the point where she was more or less resigned to being childless, though she was only thirty-one. But in this quiet moment, the rightness of it settled into her chest.
“I was thinking about looking for another place.”
She frowned. “Why? This house is perfectly adequate.” It wasn’t the house they’d always dreamed of, but that didn’t mean there was anything wrong with it, other than it being the obvious residence of a guy who lived alone with his dog.
“Not big enough.” His voice gained a rough quality that was almost embarrassment. “Not really kid friendly, either. They start moving pretty quick from what I understand. Hard to close off any of the rooms, and the kitchen is just asking for trouble.”
Not with as little as you have in it. She didn’t say it, though. It wouldn’t change anything, and it might damage what they had going on right now. Instead, she swallowed hard. “That’s a big change.”
“Seems like the time for it.” He hesitated, and that was all the warning she got. “Your leg—what can I do to help?”
“I’ve gotten by just fine without help this whole time.” The words were out and sharp enough to cut before she could think better of it.
He wasn’t fazed. “There’s nothing wrong with leaning on someone, darling. I know this is new enough that I don’t have your trust yet, but I’m going to do my damnedest to earn it back again—and this time I won’t betray it.”
She wanted that. Oh, God, she wanted that future he was painting so incredibly much. She wanted her and Daniel against the world like it used to be. She wanted the low-key nights and the long days and every second they could possibly spend together.
She wanted it so much it terrified her.
So Hope just kissed him. “One day at a time, okay? I’m here. You’re here. Things are working.” For now.
But she had to make a decision in a day or two that could potentially ruin this thing between them before it got started. She was between an impossible rock and an equally impossible hard place. She could drive back to Dallas like she’d been planning—back to her life, to the job she loved, to her little apartment that she’d never found lacking until now, thinking about how empty it would be with only her in it. Or she could stay and risk everything she’d worked so damn hard for to have a second chance with a man who had dumped her like yesterday’s trash when she needed him the most.
She’d forgiven him—it still hurt, but she’d worked hard to understand why he’d made the choice he had—but that didn’t mean she could charge blissfully into the life he promised without a single reservation.
He heard the words she didn’t speak. Daniel framed her face with one hand. “It’s going to be okay—better than okay. It’s going to be fucking perfect. Just you wait.”
Chapter Fourteen
Daniel tipped his head back and smiled against the wind. Leaving Hope in his bed this morning hadn’t been easy, but knowing she’d be there when he got home made it all worthwhile. Last night had been…perfect—more than worth the sleep deprivation caused by their staying up for hours talking and then making love again. This morning, the future stretched before him, full to the brim with possibilities he hadn’t dared consider even a month ago.
It was almost too good to be true.
Or it would be, once Hope finally agreed to stay in Devil’s Falls for good.
Hoofbeats coming up on his right had him turning his head to see Adam. His friend had only been back in Devil’s Falls a little over a year, but he’d taken to ranching like he’d never left. Seeing him here, on the back of his horse, with his hat pulled low over his eyes, made Daniel happy.
Or maybe he was just being a fucking sap because the woman he’d never really gotten over was his again.
He slowed Rita to a trot, nodding at Adam as he did the same. “I thought you were in the south fields today.”
“Quinn and I switched.” Adam shrugged. “Thought you might want to talk after how things went down last night.”
It took him a full ten seconds to get his friend’s meaning. Adam wasn’t talking about his being with Hope—he was talking about her parents’ shitty-ass reaction to the news. His hands tightened on the reins before he forced them to relax. “I didn’t expect them to welcome me back into the family with open arms.” The horror on their face when they realized he was the father had been hard to stomach, though. It felt like they were reaffirming everything he’d ever suspected—that they held him to blame.
That they wished he’d been the one to die instead of John.
“John’s passing fucked us all up, but them most of all, I imagine. Doesn’t make it okay, but it’s understandable. Losing John was enough to send me into a tailspin back then, and losing my mom this year…” Adam shook himself. “If I didn’t have Jules, who the fuck knows what I would have done—probably taken off again, though this time I wouldn’t have come back. I can’t imagine what losing a kid would be like. I hope to hell none of us ever has to go through it.”
His gut twisted in on itself at the thought of something happening to the baby growing bigger inside Hope’s stomach every day. He fought to keep his voice even. “I thought you weren’t all that supportive of this.”
“That’s not what I meant when we talked before, and you damn well know it. You and Hope—back then you were as constant as the sun rising and setting each day. Seeing you looking at each other like you used to is good. My issue is if you’re going through with this out of some twisted form of penance for the car crash. That wou
ld be fucked beyond belief.”
“I love her. Always have.” He didn’t tell Adam that he saw this as a way to balance out some of his karmic debt, because that would just confirm his friend’s worst fear. That wasn’t what things with him and Hope were about—not totally. But he’d be lying if he said the thought hadn’t occurred to him. A baby did not equal a brother, but at least he’d be doing something other than bringing pain and loss into her life.
“Then I’m happy for you.” Adam barely waited a beat. “What are you going to do about her parents?”
That was the question, wasn’t it?
It probably wasn’t realistic to expect to get their blessing, but a part of him wanted it all the same. He rubbed his chin. “I guess I’m going to have to take a trip down to San Antonio at some point.”
Adam’s face was unreadable. “If you think that’s wise.” It couldn’t be clearer that his friend thought the exact opposite.
“They’re her parents. I’m not going to put her in a position where she feels like she has to choose one of us over the other.” There was more to it than that, but he didn’t think Adam would appreciate the truth. Adam’s mother had always loved the hell out of him, and the entire Rodriguez family had been thrilled beyond belief when he’d married Daniel’s cousin. He’d never had to deal with that push and pull that came when the parents of the woman he loved hated him.
Daniel guided Rita to the north. “It’ll work out. You’ll see.” He sent Rita into a canter, and Adam’s reply was lost in the wind of his passing. Out here, with the unending sky overhead and his horse’s hooves pounding the dirt, nothing seemed impossible. All he had to do was talk to the Moores and they’d see reason. They might have every right to hate him, but no one could deny he loved Hope more than life itself.
You did thirteen years ago, and you had a hell of a way showing it back then.
He shoved the thought to the back of his mind and tipped his head back. “It’ll work out.”