Wine & Whiskey: Everything for You (Surviving Absolution Book 2)

by Nikki Belaire

  The woman’s laughter swirls with Shae’s squeal as he scoops her up again. There’s no place he’d rather be.

  * * * *

  Goosebumps freckle Max’s exposed skin. Soon enough, he’ll be warm from her touch. Always gentle at first and then almost painful with its strength. Giving him at least a temporary distraction from the endless thoughts circling through his mind.

  The instrumental music intended to calm his mood almost hides the sound of her sock feet padding across the teak floor. Her seductive laugh fills the room as she runs her fingertips over his bare ass before smacking it with the palm of her hand. “You’re supposed to be covered by a sheet.”

  “Why bother? It’s not like you haven’t seen me naked before.”

  The crisp crack of unfolding linen fills the room before she drapes it over him. “Because you’re encouraging the stereotype of massage therapists being prostitutes. What if someone walked in?”

  “The place is closed, no one knows we’re here, and the door’s dead bolted shut. Who’s going to come in?”

  “I shouldn’t have even let you make an appointment. I’m still mad at you.”

  He pushes himself up onto one forearm and meets the fiery gaze radiating from her huge cocoa eyes. Even more passionate when she’s angry. Almost exotic, with her black, silky hair, short enough to be considered a man’s style, but softened by her warm, olive skin and delicate features. “I said I was sorry, Gina, and I meant it.”

  She shrugs her shoulders, feigning indifference before tucking the sheet around his legs with enough force her fingernails scratch his thighs through the fabric. “I don’t appreciate being called by another woman’s name, especially in bed.”

  “Well, I don’t appreciate being lied to about your marital status.”

  Her gaze drops from his. At least she has the decency to act ashamed. “I know. I’m sorry I wasn’t honest before.”

  “Anyway, I was asleep. I can’t help what I dream.”

  Her long strokes down his back end their argument. No, he can’t control where his mind goes, even though he wishes he could. Force it to stop thinking about the woman who doesn’t belong to him. Who loves someone else. Who’s too sweet to realize he thinks about her like that at all. And despises himself for it.

  “You’re really tense.” Her voice is almost breathless as she uses all of her weight to press against him. “It’s the worst I’ve ever seen you.”

  “It’s been a long couple of weeks, and the fun’s not over yet.”

  “That’s not sarcasm I hear in your voice, is it?” Her thumbs dig into the crook of his shoulder, forcing him to extend his neck.

  “He’s going to risk everything to keep her safe. I just hope it works.”

  “He must really love her.”

  And she loves him. The way it’s supposed to be. They belong together. He won’t allow any man, including himself, whose own thoughts betray the few things he actually believes in, to come between them. “Yeah, he does.”

  “Kind of like someone else I know.” She figured it out before he did. Her woman’s intuition, she said. Although she accepts it as truth, he knows it’s really just guilt or stress. Something, anything, other than what she says it is.

  Always ready to remind him when she feels ignored by her husband, she brings it up when all he wants to do is not feel anything except her hands on his body. He turns to his side and starts to sit up. “Drop it.”

  With a roll of her eyes, she pushes him onto his stomach again. “Lay down. I was just kidding. I’ll stop.”

  Lavender fills the air from the oil she glides across his back. The clenched muscles release at her kneading touch. As deep into the business as he is, with her father one of Nick’s partners, and blessed with magic hands, he’d marry her himself if she wasn’t already taken.

  “There, now you’re starting to relax.” She moves to his neck, popping several times as the strain is relieved. “You hold all your tension right there.”

  “It feels better already. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. Now, just close your eyes and enjoy.”

  Never able to completely relax, he allows his anxiety to drift away with her hands roaming his body. Either that or go insane. Just like Nick’s reckless need to drive the Jeep, he too has to have an outlet from the burdens they bear.

  He jerks at her whisper against his ear. “I’m finished. Do you want to move someplace more comfortable for your nap?”

  The sheet falls to the floor as he sits up and rubs his hands over his face. “Sorry. I didn’t realize I fell asleep.”

  She steps forward and stands between his legs, massaging his shoulders before running her fingers down his chest. “Unless there’s something else you’d rather do.”

  Of course there is. The fire dancing in her eyes has turned from anger to lust, making his desire known to both of them. As much as he hates it, this time his other head has to make the decision. He may be a lot of shitty things, but an adulterer isn’t one of them. At least when he knows about it. “What about Richard? Last time I was here, you said you were trying to work it out. I don’t sleep with married women, except when they pretend they aren’t.”

  Her fingers trail lower, making his breath hitch. Damn. He’s forgotten how much she tempts him. And how much he longs for her.

  “I moved out. For real this time. It’s over.”

  “Why don’t I believe you?”

  “Because you’re bitter and jaded from working security too long, but I swear I’m telling the truth.” She laughs against his lips. “Besides, you know what makes you feel even better than a massage, and you can’t say no.”

  One hand wraps around her waist while the other trails down her arm and encircles her wrist. Without breaking their kiss, he holds up her fingers to confirm the lack of adornment, before pressing them back against his chest.

  Chapter Four

  Shae smiles behind closed eyes at the clean-scented, citrusy cologne drifting across her. She sinks deeper into the velvety cushion, crinkling from Nick’s weight as he climbs in next to her. Tender kisses trail across her shoulder before he lies along her side and rests his head on her chest, his leg draped over hers. Her hand glides under his shirt, stroking his back. “I thought you were working.”

  “I was ready for a break, so I thought I’d come outside and enjoy the sunset with you.”

  A soft giggle bubbles in her throat. “It’s only been ten minutes.”

  His sleeve brushes against her arm as he shrugs. “What can I say? I’m fast.”

  “I think you were checking to make sure I wasn’t calling Gail now that I have my phone back.”

  Like over-protective parents, Carrie and Nick formed a united front against her talking to her manager. Or a more accurate description would be her listening as Gail shrieks and screams and fusses. Her promises of waiting until at least tomorrow to call Gail back the only reprieve from their grounding. Which is not a total hardship after listening to the messages and reading the texts the woman’s already sent.

  “You don’t need her bullshit right now.”

  “She’s just trying to help me and my career.”

  A deep growl of disapproval rumbles in his throat, ending their discussion. They’ve both lost so much already, neither of them wins from an argument.

  The solidity of his body curling over hers provides a sense of stability, like an anchor mooring their relationship after they had been floating away from each other for too long. Tethered by love, yet finally free from worry. Their permanence a welcome comfort of knowing that whenever she leaves, she’ll always come back here, with him, in his arms and in his bed. She’s home.

  She twists around the diamond on her finger before stroking his hair, letting her fingernails graze across his scalp. His quiet murmur of contentment warms her skin. All of his fears and insecurities eliminated with a single word. He thinks the ring makes them real, that her wearing it gives him assurance she believes in his love for her. Never
realizing the proof of his own commitment comes from his acceptance of her faith in him.

  His long fingers glide under her tee and spread across her stomach, his thumb rubbing back and forth, occasionally brushing against the bottom curve of her belly button. The gentle touch is a subdued expression of the fierce love and protectiveness behind it. Just like she knew it would be, once he learned to trust himself. Now, hopeful anticipation can fill the space in her heart once occupied by worry. His happiness becomes hers.

  Yet, the quiet between them is a peaceful illusion hiding the fact he’s brooding. Lost in his thoughts. Maybe thinking about the mistakes they’ve both made. Or more likely of Carter. Emotions he doesn’t want to admit and a discussion he doesn’t want to have. God forbid, if something happened to Carrie, he would do everything possible to ease the grief of her losing her best friend. Yet, his stubbornness remains, unwilling to accept her comfort for his loss.

  She tugs his curls before tickling the back of his neck. “It’s been strange not seeing Max all day. I kept waiting for him to come for you.” And say Carter is here to see him. A reminder of what used to be that hurts them both.

  “I told him to take off for a while. He could use some down time after everything that happened.”

  As always, he acknowledges Max’s needs, yet disregards his own. Ignores the sorrow invading his heart. How can a man be so concerned about others, yet not himself? “I agree. But, what about you? You’ve been through a lot too.”

  The stiffening of his body is the only response she receives. Her fingers glide across his hair again. Regardless of what he doesn’t say, she can still try to offer him solace.

  After a few minutes, he tilts his head and looks up at her. The sadness in his gaze reflects the truth, his anger at Carter unable to completely smother the love that’s still there. He kisses her stomach and her lips before rolling onto his back and closing his eyes.

  She curls into the curve of his arm. “What are you thinking about?”

  A long, deep breath rattles under her cheek as she lies against his chest. “He took me surfing one time, trying to teach me. But I didn’t take it seriously. Too many girls in tiny bikinis for me to care about listening to him.”

  The far-away tone of his voice, usually reserved for his mother, now applies to his new heartbreak as well. A casual response is her only option to keep him talking, encouraging him to let out the pain tormenting him. “How old were you?”

  “Fourteen and only interested in one thing. He never took me again.”

  “Good to know the priorities of teenage boys.”

  No laughter or acknowledge of agreement. Just the trailing of his fingertips across her arm as it rests on his stomach. “We worked so much he hardly ever got to go, even though he loved it. Every once in a while he would disappear, and I knew that’s where he was. So many times I thought about finding him and trying again, but never did.” His cheek presses against the top of her head, his voice stinging with guilt. “I should have.”

  “I’m sure he would have liked that.”

  A few locks of hair slide onto her forehead from his shaking head. “Nah, he probably would have just gotten pissed at me for bothering him when he was trying to ride a few sets.”

  No words of relief or consolation come to her mind, as much as she aches for them to. For insightful wisdom to lessen his grief. They share the universal desire of wanting to go back in time to fix past mistakes. To undo the pain they caused to the ones they love the most.

  “He was the only connection I had left to my mom. Now, I’m the only one left who remembers her.”

  The truest essence of an orphan—alone in your life and your memories. Yet, a flicker of optimism always exists with a new life. “Maybe you’ll see her again in the baby.”

  His fingers trace the edges of the bandage covering the crook of her arm. The same worry lines from the doctor’s office crease his forehead. “Hopefully, our child will be like you and my mother, not my father.”

  She smiles and reaches up to caress his cheek, needing to remind him of the goodness he brings to their baby too. “I think he’ll be wonderful, like you.”

  “He?”

  Her heart twinges at the uncertainty in his voice. Thinking that once again he’s been left out of her pregnancy. “I don’t like saying ‘it.’ I hope she’s not offended if she’s a girl.”

  A small smile plays on his lips as his eyes widen. “A girl?”

  “Maybe we better hope for a boy. I don’t think you could handle two of us.”

  He lifts her hand and kisses it before holding it against his chest. They snuggle in silence as orange and yellow streaks fade behind the billowing clouds.

  The sudden rigidity of his body pulls her from the brink of sleep. He sits up and drops his head into his hands. “I still don’t fucking understand why he screwed me over with Juan of all fucking people. How could he hate me enough to want me dead?”

  Her grogginess instantly disappears. Danger rules his life, affecting every decision and thought. A burden she knows he understands and accepts to protect her and the baby. Yet, for a man burned by disloyalty, doubt can be the greatest threat to rational thinking. She must calm his fury before he risks everything with his need for vengeance. Rising up next to him, she lays her head on his shoulder. “I don’t think he did.”

  He gives her a side-glance before shaking his head.

  “He could have killed you at my house, and he didn’t. Then, he warned you about the hit. He couldn’t go through with it because he loved you.”

  “Yeah, stupid bastard loved me enough to try and kill me for something I didn’t even want. He fucking knew that.”

  She curls her arm around his. Loathe to hurt him, yet she has to be honest for him to see the reality of the situation. “But, you wouldn’t have been able to let go. You would’ve always had to be in charge so you could protect us. He didn’t want to live in your shadow, but he loved you too much to go through with it.” Her heart clenches at the despair clouding his face. “Just like you love him.”

  His hands encircle her waist, and he pulls her onto his lap, burying his face in her neck. A deep sigh blows against her skin. “Even though he hurt you.”

  “Yeah.”

  He softens underneath her hands gliding up and down his back. “I know you can’t forgive him, but don’t make his mistake worse. Revenge won’t make the pain go away. We’re safe, and that’s all that matters.”

  They hold each other as dusk settles around them. The nighttime lights flicker on in the pool and under the eaves. Through the window, Marta stirs cream into a pot on the stove. A breezy gust lifts a few strands of her hair, tickling the back of her arms. Their first feeling of genuine peace in a long time.

  The buzzing of her phone ends their tranquility.

  “Don’t answer if it’s Gail.”

  She picks up the cell from the side table and smiles before showing it to him. Dr. Patterson’s phone number blinks on the screen.

  “Put it on speaker so I can hear too.” His voice is thick with emotion as he nods to her.

  A sliver of guilt pricks her heart. Of course, she will always include him. She squeezes his fingers and swipes the face. “Hello.”

  “Hi, Shae. It’s Dr. Patterson.”

  Her stomach sinks at the doctor’s cheerless tone. “Yes?”

  “I have your test results. Would you be able to come into the office in the morning so I can review them with you?”

  All the breath leaves her lungs as Nick’s arm tightens around her waist. “Why can’t you tell me now?”

  “It would be best to discuss this in person.”

  Tears sting her eyes, her heart already breaking at the news she hasn’t heard, yet is going to destroy her just the same. “Please, just tell me.”

  A sigh rattles through the phone. “I’m sorry, but it’s bad news. Your levels didn’t increase like they should have. Normally, they would have at least doubled by now, and they’re exactly the sa
me as the first test.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “Your body isn’t responding the way it should be to have a viable pregnancy.”

  The air on the deck is so thick it hurts to breathe. She stands up and walks toward the edge, staring at the endless ebb and flow of blue green water barely visible in the fading light. Inhaling deeply, she tries to push the oxygen into her compressed chest before explaining to Dr. Patterson how some kind of error must have occurred. Make her understand how wrong she is. “No, that can’t be right. Everything was okay on Saturday. You said everything was good.”

  “At that point, it was. But this second test shows your pregnancy isn’t going to progress.”

  Her fingers grip the railing, trying to steady herself, as Nick’s body curls against her back, his head resting on her shoulder. The pulse in her ears is deafening even against the pounding surf. She can fix this. She can make this all okay. “What do I have to do? I can take medicine, stay in bed, come to the hospital. Please, tell me what to do, and I’ll do it. I’ll do anything.”

  “I’m sorry, but there’s nothing you can do. It just wasn’t meant to be. Within the next few days, you’ll begin bleeding and cramping similar to a very heavy period.” Dr. Patterson’s voice is full of pity, yet straight forward, as if reciting a speech. “You can use a heating pad or warm shower as well as Tylenol to ease your discomfort if you need it. If you have any questions or concerns, please don’t hesitate to call me. Otherwise, there’s no need to come in, as there’s nothing that can be done except let nature take its course.”

  But this baby meant everything to her. More than she ever wanted anything. And now, it’s gone. All she can manage is a whisper, “Are you sure there’s nothing I can do?”

  “I’m sorry, Shae. I know how painful this must be. But give it two or three months, and you and Evan can start trying again. He told me all about your house and wedding plans. He loves you so much. You’ll get through this, and then you can have the family you both want. Okay?”