Forever We Fall

by Chloe Walsh

  Opening my eyes slowly I climbed out of bed and crept out of our room, checking on my daughter first before I went downstairs in search of her father.

  I found him in his office, hunched forward on his chair, with his head on his desk and his hand on the mouse of his computer. Kyle wasn’t sleeping well lately and I couldn’t bear to wake him up and have him worry some more.

  But he was only wearing his boxer shorts, so I rushed down the hallway and grabbed a blanket from the downstairs linen closet before returning to his office and draping it over his shoulders. My hand must have nudged his because the computer screen flickered to life, revealing what he’d been doing before falling asleep. He’d been in the middle of writing an email . . .

  To: Linda Stone

  From: Kyle Carter

  Subject: Repressed Grief

  (Yeah, see the subject heading? Well, according to Derek’s therapist, I’ve got that by the bucketful.)

  Linda, I don’t understand what’s going on anymore. Everything feels like it’s getting out of control and I feel so fucking lost without you. I miss you so goddamn much and I’ve been going out of my mind with worry. I honestly don’t know what I’ve done to offend you so deeply that you won’t speak to me, but whatever it was I’m sorry.

  I need you, Linda. Everyone depends on me. And you . . . You’re the one I depend on.

  The trial is scaring me. I can’t tell anyone, especially Lee, but I’m scared to death.

  If Lee cracks on the stand then that’s it . . . Rachel could get out in five to seven years for diminished capacity.

  It’s a huge possibility, Linda, and I have no idea of what to do or how to cope with all of it.

  Please let me know you’re okay. Just one sign that you’re alright and I’ll stop sending these pathetic fucking emails . . .

  Skulking away guiltily, I slipped out of his office and closed the door behind me. Sagging against the closed door, I closed my eyes and exhaled a sharp breath. Anger burned inside of me as I tried to figure out what to do for him—how to help him. I couldn’t talk about the email because I shouldn’t have read it in the first place. Why the hell was Linda doing this? It was so cruel and Kyle didn’t deserve to be treated this way. But knowing he was afraid caused the fear inside of me to spread like a disease . . .

  Pushing out the door, I slowly made my way back to bed with a heavy heart and a truckload of anxiety.

  “Is that Mike again?” Lee asked as she stood rummaging through her dresser drawers. “Is something wrong at the hotel . . .” her voice trailed off as she gazed dispassionately at her reflection in the mirror hanging over her dresser. She raised her hair up and down with her hands in what I presumed was her trying out potential styles.

  “Everything’s fine, princess,” I replied in a gruff tone as I glanced down at the screen of my phone where my brother’s name was flashing, before silencing it and tossing it on my bedside table.

  I hadn’t been to the hotel in weeks and grudgingly conceded my half-brother Mike, was a skilled and capable manager, so when he called me about an emergency it was serious. “Mike’s got everything in control,” I lied. I’d have to call in later, but she didn’t need to be getting herself all worked up with my shit. She needed calmness. God knows, we would have enough trouble in a few weeks and I needed some breathing space, too. All the crap with Tracy, Jimmy and the trial was taking its toll on me and I knew hiding from my problems wouldn’t make them go away, but my stress-levels were through the roof.

  “I’m going to have to cut it,” Lee grumbled, breaking me from my daydream, still tugging at her hair. “It’s too long . . . too damn curly.” I rolled my eyes and fought the urge to laugh at her comment—which I couldn’t disagree more with. Her long, dark brown hair fell to the middle of her back in twisting, velvety curls. Her hair color was one hundred percent natural and her curls were sexy as hell.

  I remembered Cam forking out hundreds of dollars to have her hair curled like that on several occasions and I could never figure out why Lee hated her hair when—according to Cam–women went to great lengths to pull off the ‘bed me’ look. I had no fucking clue what that meant, but I wanted to bed Lee every time I looked at her, so I guessed Cam had been onto something with that theory.

  Lee muttered something incoherent before sliding a hair tie off her wrist and pulling her hair in a pony-tail. “You’re gorgeous,” I told her as folded my arms behind my head and took in the fucking fantastic floorshow in front of me.

  “Sure I am,” she said in a sardonic tone as she rummaged around in her chest of drawers. “Did you call Derek last night?” she asked as she grabbed a pair of panties from the drawer and stepped into them. It was amusing as hell to watch her dress. She kept my shirt on as she slid on her panties on in her ridiculous attempt at modesty. I had no fucking clue why she always did this. I’d seen more of Lee’s body than she had. I’d delivered our daughter. I’d seen it all. Every part. It didn’t faze me. It just made me love her more. “How is he doing?” she asked. “Was he happy to see his parents? Do you think he’s eating properly?”

  “Calm down, I called him last night. He’s fine, baby. I think he needed the break away . . .” I told her, my voice trailing off as I watched her slide a pair of skin-tight blue jeans up her legs. Jesus, I fucking loved watching that woman shimmy into a pair of jeans. It was like free porn. I’d never get tired of that sight.

  “How did he sound?” she asked, her fingers freezing on her zipper. “Do you think he’s drinking again?”

  “He’ll need it to deal with his mother,” I snorted and mentally slapped myself on the head when I watched Lee’s face darken, her eyes glazed over. “Lee, he’s okay, baby. He’ll be home in a week or so,” I said softly.

  Derek was doing a lot better. He was talking to his parents again and had gone home to Idaho for a long overdue visit. I personally thought this was huge fucking progress. Every day I saw a little more of the old Derek and it felt damn good to know that he was coming back to me. The night he came home, it felt like I’d gotten back a crucial limb that I hadn’t known was missing . . .

  “What are you thinking about, princess?” I asked as I stared at Lee’s glazed over expression.

  She blinked twice before giving me an apologetic half-smile. “Just about how good this feels to be in sync with you,” she replied, her smile widening as she gestured between the both of us with her hand. “You and me . . . Us. This is it, isn’t Kyle?” Her face reddened and she closed her eyes and bit down on her lip before sighing in pure contentment. “This must be what people are supposed to search for. This feeling, this kind of connection we have. It doesn’t waver. It grows. It drowns me, smothers me and still I crave more. I need more. I’m still trying to figure out if it’s a healthy way to feel.”

  I was momentarily stunned. Fucking drowning in her words. “Uh . . .” I shook my head and tried to form a sentence. I couldn’t. Her words had knocked me on my ass. She loved me that much . . .

  “I like it when you’re happy,” Lee murmured, distracting me from my thoughts, as she did the sexiest wiggle as she buttoned her jeans. Hell yeah, I was happy. Every part of me was happy as I watched her. Very happy.

  “Keep jiggling your ass like that and I won’t be leaving this room,” I warned her.

  Lee stopped moving and gaped at me. “You are such a strange man.” she mused as she stepped forward and climbed onto the bed to kneel before me. “You get turned on by the weirdest things.”

  Sitting up, I grabbed her hips and tugged her onto my lap. “It’s a damn shame to hide this,” I growled as my hands slid around to squeeze her ass.

  I slipped my hands up her shirt and trailed my fingers up the soft skin of her stomach until I found my destination. “Then don’t leave this room,” she purred as she pressed her crotch against my junk. “Stay here with me . . .”

  “These are fucking perfect,” I told her as I cupped her full breasts. “Jesus, they’re bigg
er than ever.”

  Lee moaned as her fingernails dug into my shoulders. “That’s because of the baby weight . . .”

  “Don’t say it,” I warned her as I pushed my hand up her shirt until I had her tits in my hands and in my vision. “Don’t even fucking think about it.” She was conscious of her body since having Hope, but I swear she saw shit that wasn’t there. The only extra anything she had was a deeper curve to her waist and bigger breasts. God, I hoped she wasn’t planning on dieting. She didn’t need to be messing around with my playground. “Your body’s a dream, Lee.”

  I must have said the right thing because her lips crashed down on mine with such force I fell back on my pillow as her hot tongue invaded my mouth. “Jesus,” I groaned as I tugged on the waistband of her skin-tight jeans. “How the fuck am I supposed to get these off you?”

  “Just tear them,” Lee moaned against my lips. “Please . . . I need you inside me.”

  Fuck.

  Grabbing the front of her jeans, I yanked until the sound of fabric ripping filled my ears. Thank Jesus. My lips never left hers as I shoved them down her thighs. She kicked them off the rest of the way as her hands pulled at the front of my boxers. “I want you so bad, Kyle,” she gasped against my lips.

  Lifting her up, I slid her thong to one side and positioned my dick at her entrance. “Christ, Lee, you’re soaking wet, baby.”

  The sound of our daughter crying caused both of us to freeze.

  Lee giggled and I wanted to fucking cry.

  My dick was so hard I was worried it would break if I didn’t get inside her right now. “Shh,” I coaxed as I flexed my hips upward. “I didn’t hear anything . . .”

  “Maybe another time,” she teased and climbed off me.

  “Yeah,” I muttered as I got up and stalked into the bathroom to take the coldest shower I could handle. “In about eighteen years.”

  I’d just put Hope down for a nap when the buzzer for the front gate drilled through my ear. Dammit. That thing was going to give me a freaking heart attack.

  Slipping out of Hope’s room, I closed her door and rushed up the hallway to answer it before it buzzed again. “Hello?” I said and felt totally stupid when I realized I was holding my hand on the button for the house alarm. “Hello,” I tried again.

  “Hello, Lia,” my mother’s voice came through the intercom. “I hope I’m not too early.”

  “Oh, hi Tracy,” I mumbled taken aback. I’d completely forgotten my mother was calling today. She’d phoned last night to see if I was available to have coffee with her. I’d accepted–reluctantly—because I didn’t want to upset her, but I was nervous. What if we didn’t have anything to talk about? What if she decided I wasn’t worth all of this hassle I’d given her and she walked away again. No. No, that wouldn’t happen. I needed to be positive. This would be good.

  “We can do this another day if you prefer,” I heard my mother say softly and found myself panicking and rejecting that option.

  “No,” I all but yelled. “Now’s great,” I added quietly before pressing the button Kyle had colored in with a pink sharpie. “It’s open,” I said bravely. “Come on up.”

  “Who taught you to cook?” I asked as I leaned my elbows on the island countertop. Dropping my chin in my hands, I studied my mother pottering around my kitchen like a pro. Never in my wildest imagination had I thought I’d be happy to watch my mom bake a cake. Something so normal. Something so . . . motherly. I had thought it would be awkward, especially since Kyle had to go into work and we would be on our own, but we’d been fine—more than fine. We had steered clear of any dangerous topics, choosing to chat mostly about Hope and other safe topics. It was during one of these random conversations, when I’d admitted I’d accidentally poisoned Kyle with a batch of cookies last year, that Tracy had suggested we bake a cake.

  “My mother,” she replied as she opened the oven door and slid our creation inside. “When I was a child, and something really terrible happened to me, my mother would always bake a cake.” Turning around to face me, she smiled shyly. “She used to say there was never a problem that couldn’t be solved with chocolate fudge and pink icing . . .” Tracy paused and her face broke out in a huge grin. “But then again, I was seven and she was overweight, so maybe it was more for her benefit than mine.”

  “Were they good people?” I asked, finding myself mirroring her smile. “Did you love them?”

  “Very much,” she murmured. Stepping towards me, Tracy gently brushed a speck of flour from my cheek. I barely contained the shiver that was trying to force its way out of me from her touch. I had to stop myself from leaning into her touch. “I love you most of all,” she whispered before turning around to start on the wash up.

  I love you, too. I tested the words in my head, but couldn’t make my mouth form them.

  Too soon, my brain chanted.

  “You want some help?” I asked in a cheerful tone as I stood up and grabbed the tea towel.

  “Sure,” she said with a smile before handing me a soapy baking tray. Moving to stand beside her, we washed and dried the dishes in companionable silence and in the back of my mind I felt a piece of my own personal jigsaw slide into place.

  My eyes locked on the raven-haired woman with her back to me, looking out my office window. Recognition flickered in some small part of my mind and I felt like a dick because all I could think of was how familiar her hips looked. Come to think of it so did her ass . . .

  “Kyle, you remember Cindy, Linda’s niece?” Mike said, smiling broadly at me. “You should,” he added with a barely contained snort. “You two were inseparable as teenagers.”

  She turned around and my heart fell into my ass.

  Fuck . . .

  Oh fuck.

  I stood paralyzed, dumb as fuck, and unable to think straight. This girl. Jesus, what I’d done with her.

  I’d been a pissed off teenager, fucking thrilled when this sexy nineteen year old took an interest in me. All I’d been getting from girls my age was some boob over bra action and the very rare hand job. The night Cindy Nichols walked into my bedroom at my grandpa’s house, teasing me with her naked body, offering to do things to me I hadn’t even heard about, had fucking thrilled me.

  Now I felt kind of dirty.

  Her green eyes shone in amusement as she prowled towards me. “Hey Speedy,” Cindy purred, and the sound of her old nickname for me tore through my brain, bringing with it a swell of memories . . . Her long, black hair tumbling over her tits as she fucked me raw. “It’s been a while,” she mused, wrapping her arms around me in a hug. “You grew up good, Kyle. Real good.”

  “Cindy,” I choked out, patting her awkwardly on her back. “It’s been a long time.” I felt like a rabbit in the headlights as I stared back at the girl–woman–who’d introduced me to the female body. The girl whose body I’d spent an entire summer pleasuring until I’d perfected every fucking touch, until after three months of raw, primal fucking, the student had surpassed the teacher.

  “Seven years,” she laughed, slapping my chest. “You’re looking good, Speedy.”

  “Well, I’ll let you two kids get reacquainted,” Mike said, smirking to himself as he strolled out of my office. I wanted to scream ‘don’t fucking leave me with her,’ but I knew he wouldn’t help me—the fucker knew who she was.

  Mike had spent enough time hanging out with me back then to know this girl arriving in my office was like dropping a ticking time bomb in my lap and it was times like this I regretted putting my dick in half of the female population.

  The minute the door closed I knew I was doomed. It felt like something was jammed in the door of my past, propping it open for every fucking mistake and stupid thing I’d done to come back and haunt me.

  “I've got to tell you, speedy,” Cindy mused as she strolled over to my desk. “When mom asked me to come talk to you, I was curious to see how you turned out. I’m impressed,” she purred.

  The
sixteen-year-old boy in me roared to life. I shut that fucker up with a swift kick to the balls. Cold fucking shower for him. I wasn’t that kid anymore.

  Her eyes dropped to the framed photo of Hope on my desk. “Cute kid,” she mused.

  “How long are you here for?” I remained by the door—a quick exit if needed. Cindy wasn’t fucked up like Rachel. But she could fuck up my temporary peace at home. Dammit to hell . . .

  “I haven’t decided yet,” she replied as her eyes roamed all over me. Jesus, she was leering at me . . .”I was only supposed to be staying for the week, tying up some loose ends for Aunt Linda, but I think I might stick around for a while.” She crossed the floor, not stopping until her chest grazed mine. “Take in some sights. Maybe go rock climbing. Would you like me to climb on your rock, Kyle? For old times’ sake . . .” Her hand dropped to my pants and I jerked away.

  “Whoa. That is not happening again,” I warned her as I grabbed her shoulders and held her away from me. “I’m engaged, Cindy. I have a girl at home waiting on me.”

  “Engaged?” She looked confused as she shook her head. “What the hell are you doing getting engaged at your age? You’re only twenty-three.”

  “I fell in love,” I said coolly. “The right girl came along and I was sold.” I stared at her, daring her to say something to contradict me.

  “You got her pregnant, didn’t you?” Cindy sneered. “Damn it, Carter,” she hissed. “What was the first rule I taught you? Wear a goddamn glove.”

  “That’s got nothing to do with why I’m marrying her,” I growled frustrated as hell that my intentions towards Lee were being questioned, fucking sullied. “She’s amazing. I’m in love with her.”

  “I bet,” Cindy said in a sarcastic tone of voice. “So, you’re telling me if I visited your amazing fiancée, I wouldn’t find a whole bunch of mini Kyle Carter’s running around the place.”