by Renea Mason
He was mostly healed and had discussed resuming his daily workouts with his trainer. There was still a hitch in his step from the kidney surgery, but each day it was less noticeable.
I had hoped as he grew stronger, the distance between us would close, but it only seemed to become more vast. We barely spoke, and since he came home, I had been sleeping in the guest room. Immersing myself in my latest story, I tried to overcome everything I allowed myself to feel. I lived vicariously through my heroine's pragmatic approach to love and decided I was right all along. Feeling more alone with him here than I did when I lived by myself, I needed to focus on what was important. He survived. That was all that mattered. How I felt now was nothing more than a backhand from hope for believing in things I had no business believing. The relief that he didn't die was enough. He had recovered. This was my purpose—to see him through this time, to give him the strength and motivation he needed. My part had run its course, though. He had said he knew I would be important to him. He was right. I held space for him in a time when he had no one else. Space that was no longer mine to occupy.
Taking a seat at the breakfast nook, he sighed.
Just like I had every morning, I set a cup of coffee in front of him—black, just like the day we met. A bell dinged when the oatmeal he enjoyed finished heating in the microwave. I removed the ceramic bowl and added fresh fruit before setting it next to his coffee. It was time to tell him. "Lachlan…I…"
His gaze lifted from his breakfast to meet my eyes, but he didn't say anything. Concern laced his features.
"You're all cleared from your doctor now. You'll resume your projects soon. I'm so glad you're OK." I hoped he felt the sincerity in my smile.
He swallowed. "Just say it, Katherine. Tell me what you want to tell me."
I stared down at my hands. "I'm going to book a flight back home to Pittsburgh."
"Home." He hung his head. "I figured as much." His hands wrapped around the rim of his coffee mug and stared into the dark liquid.
I fought the tears stinging my eyes and attempted to make light of the situation. "Kyle promised he'd make sure you get your coffee and oatmeal every morning while you're on the road."
"What has this been to you, Katherine?"
When I looked up, there was so much pain in his eyes. "I don't understand."
"You stayed all this time to take care of me, but now you're leaving. Why did you even bother? Was it a sense of obligation? I can't think of what could make you feel indebted to me. I almost got you killed. Maybe I'm asking the wrong question, what are you to me?"
I tried to read beyond the anguish in his words. "I don't think that's a question I'm qualified to answer. Only you can."
"When do you leave?" There was so much pain in his voice.
"I'm not sure. I have haven't booked the ticket yet. I wanted to let you know first, so if you need to make other arrangements…"
"Other arrangements," he scoffed. "Yes, of course. Can you give me a few days?"
"Sure." I reached over and rested my hand on his. "Take whatever time you'd like."
Later that afternoon, I sat in the guest room, staring at my laptop, hoping for the words to come. I closed my eyes and rubbed my forehead. When I looked up, Lachlan loomed in the doorway.
"Hi… Did you need something? I'm sorry, I usually come to check—"
With a slight shake of his head, he interrupted me. "No, Katherine. I mean, yes. But I don't want you to take care of me. I was wondering if you'd like to take a drive with me. I'm officially permitted to be behind the wheel again, and I've got a serious case of cabin fever."
I worked hard to contain my shock. "Uh, yeah, sure. It will be good to have someone there your first time out, in case something goes wrong. What should I wear?"
His jaw tightened. "What you have on is fine. Meet me in the garage in thirty? We're going to take the Bel Air."
Before I could respond, he was gone.
Later that afternoon, I shut down my laptop and ventured to his garage, which was more like a small plane hangar. He was already in the Bel Air, waiting for me with the door open and motor running. I hopped in beside him, keeping my silence as we pulled out of the building.
Since the car's top was down, I laid my head back on the headrest and basked in the last rays of sun peeking over the horizon. Arid wind whipped around me loudly, making any kind of real conversation difficult.
About an hour later, he turned onto a long, winding road. We hadn't passed another car in some time. The mountains ahead obscured the view but provided a gorgeous focal point. He pulled onto a small dirt road, and the scenery transitioned to the most breathtaking ocean vista. He slowed, carefully backing the car up to a cliff, then killed the engine. Beyond the ledge, bright blue waters stretched farther than the eye could see. The rhythmic crashing of waves against rocks below us created a hypnotizing sound.
"Oh, Lachlan, this is so beautiful," I said, looking over my shoulder at the vista. I opened my door and stepped out of the car, entranced by nature's majesty.
He climbed out and rounded the front of the car to stand beside me. "It's one of my favorite places to come when I need to think."
We both studied the horizon in silence for a moment, inhaling the salt-tinged air into our lungs.
The unexpected feel of his fingers wrapping around mine tore my attention away from the view.
"Katherine… I'm so sorry."
I took a deep breath. I knew how the speech would go. I had written it a thousand times. Staring at the ground behind him, I mentally prepared myself. "It's fine. You don't need to say anything. I understand. It's easy to get caught up when you want something to be true. You have nothing to be sorry about. There wasn't anything I didn't agree to, and I knew the risks. I fully accept the outcome."
He squeezed my hand. "How could you have possibly known the risks? I didn't even know them. I would have never asked you to come if I had any idea."
I stared at his hand wrapped around mine. I could see in my mind the way we would part: one lingering touch, a reluctant goodbye. "I know you wouldn't have. But it's easy to get caught up. Obviously, I'm guilty myself, or I wouldn't be here. I vacillated between wishing I had been strong enough to resist you and being thankful for my weakness because, maybe, I was meant to be here to help you. That's why you knew I'd be important to you." With my other hand, I patted the back of his. "But it doesn't matter now. It seems you've figured out that this was all I was meant to be, too."
His brow furrowed. "I'm not sure I understand. I know I have no right to ask, but please, tell me why you've decided to leave."
I sighed. "Our… relationship changed after the incident. All those wonderful things that brought us together were gone. You were in pain, struggling with limitations, and I was happy to be here for you. Happy to help you heal, but it's quite apparent, even though you needed me, a more intimate relationship isn't what you're looking for. I can't say I'm not disappointed, but I do understand. It's hard to have that 'new love' feeling when we had to cross barriers in a short period of time that usually take couples many years to broach. Now that you've healed, it's time for me to get out of your way, so you can find what you really need."
"You think my feelings have changed because you took care of me?"
"Sort of, but it's not so simple. I think your feelings changed because I had to challenge you to do things you didn't want to do while you were in pain. I nagged you to do things that were painful but necessary. I cleaned you and forced you to let me share your physical burden. You are a strong, independent man; none of those feelings are comfortable. I think it may have led you to resent what we were forced to become. No matter how I felt, your full recovery was my only concern. If I had to sacrifice a future with you to make sure you continue to have a healthy one, it was an easy decision to make." I cupped his cheek with my palm. "If I had to make the choice again, it would be the same. I may not believe in happily ever after, but I do believe in love, and I love you enough to le
t you go."
He pressed his face against my hand and closed his eyes. "Katherine... I wasn't upset with you at all. I was angry at myself. You could have been killed. A few inches to my right, and the bullet would have went straight through your head. I would have lost you forever. I had been selfish. I worked hard at persuading you to be in a situation that nearly got you killed. Then, I watched you take care of me, asking nothing in return. It didn't make me resent you. It made me fall in love with you even more, but it felt like you were keeping me at a distance. Normally, I would have confronted you and come up with some clever way to pull you closer, but that's how I got you involved in this mess. I won't do that to you again. I've been waiting for you to tell me you're leaving. I promised myself I wouldn't stop you, but you're not leaving because I put you in danger, or because of my crazy life, but rather because you think I don't love you. I need you to know nothing could be further from the truth. I don't want you to go."
"Lachlan—"
His mouth closed over mine. My body relaxed against his under the command of his supple lips, his words playing through my mind. Relief loosened my muscles, making me feel weak in his strong arms. It hadn't hit me until that moment how much I had let myself hope. How I protected myself by controlling the story again. I didn't want to lose him.
His fingers dug into the muscles of my back, pulling me tighter against him. Between the kisses he peppered over my face and neck, he whispered, "Please, don't leave me," over and over again, like a mantra, a prayer. All of the love and affection had returned, erasing the past weeks.
I cupped his cheek and urged him to look at me. "I never wanted to go."
"Can we pretend the last eight weeks never happened?" He combed his fingers through my hair.
"No. I think this time has been important for us." I wrapped my arms around his waist and nestled closer to him.
"I'm not sure how you came to that conclusion. I almost lost you because I was too bloody stupid to talk to you."
I let out a soft chuckle. "Well, yes, you were stupid, but so was I. I shouldn't have insisted on trying to handle your recovery when we both knew it would be difficult. I should have talked to you, too. We learned a lot about each other. We may not have gone about things in the right way, but we know each other better. So, if you get shot again, we'll hire a beast of a nurse to whip you into shape while I sit by your bedside and let you complain about it."
"I'm sorry to disappoint, but that was the one, and only time I plan on being shot. Don't fret, though, when I'm old and decrepit, and the nurse has to change my diaper, I'll give you an ear full about her unfair treatment of me." He pressed a soft kiss to my forehead. "Katherine, I don't want you to think for one moment I didn't appreciate you caring for me. As hard as it was for me to be helpless, knowing it was your hands, your love behind every gesture did bring me significant comfort. I've thought about how I would feel if roles were reversed, and I'd be hurt if you refused me the honor of caring for you. I stole the only positive in that horrible situation from you, and I'm sorry. You're right. We did learn a lot. So, when we need each other this way again, I'll let you choose."
I smiled at him. "Thank you. I did consider it an honor. It was another way to love you."
"I'll always remember that." He cradled the back of my head in his palm, guiding my head to his chest. The sound of his strong heart beating in my ear sent a rush of happiness straight to my chest. "I brought you here because I figured it would be poetic if you were leaving. The sun setting, the waves carrying our love out to sea, so it would never die. The crisp night air would cool our passion, leaving me in darkness. I wanted to memorialize what I felt for you." He linked his fingers with mine and helped me into the backseat of the car, where we gazed upon the painted sky. "Now, it means something different. It's a closing of a chapter. However, the story isn't ending. I've missed you, Katherine."
I rested my head against the crook of his elbow. "I've missed you too."
"I need to touch you." The pads of his fingers played along the hem of my sundress, gently stroking my thigh.
"What are you waiting for?" I raised an eyebrow and let my knees fall apart, welcoming his wandering touch.
"Permission to take off your panties and bury myself inside you."
"Please," was all I could manage to say when the feel of his hand under my dress stole my breath.
His fingers hooked in the waistband of my panties. His gentle nudge was encouragement to raise my hips before dragging the fabric down my legs.
"Wait." I grasped his wrist.
He shifted in the seat and stroked his finger over my cheek. "What's wrong? Did I do something?"
"No, it's just… Well… I never expected to be here so long, and we haven't been…I was supposed to see my doctor last month. I haven't taken my pills this month."
A slow smile crept across his lips. "Is that all?"
"Yes, we'll have to be creative."
His large hand closed around my ankle and lifted, hooking it around his hip as he shifted in to nestle between my thighs. "Or not and accept what comes." He unzipped his pants.
"It's not exactly an ideal time to consider a child." I rested my hand on his chest, giving me a moment to pause and think.
He reached into his boxers and pulled out his cock. "There's never an ideal time. We both had a brush with death. We're not getting younger. If it happens, it happens. Besides," he took my hand and led it to his cock, wrapping my fingers around the hard length, "feel what the idea of possibly getting you pregnant has done to me. I don't think I've ever been this hard." His fingers skated over my slick hole, checking me. "Mmm...So wet. If you want me to pull out, I'll try." He kissed me as he positioned his cock against my slippery entrance and closed his eyes. "I don't know why, Katherine, but it feels right, like our flight together. Like I'm supposed to. Tell me to stop now. Tell me you want me to pull out." He spread my legs farther with one hand and used the other to brace himself on the back of the seat. "If you don't say something, I'm not leaving your body until I've come inside you."
I closed my eyes and focused past the fear, past the uncertainty, past the pragmatism, and I leaped, pulling him to me. "Do it." I locked my legs around him and forced the head of his cock into my sex.
He gripped my pelvis, steadying me while burying himself to the hilt. "God, I've missed you so much."
The leather was warm against my back, but the ocean mist cooled my skin. My mind wanted to think about what it would be like to be pregnant with his child, to be his wife, but my body demanded my full attention. Him moving inside me, his breath on my ear, his declarations of love and devotions chanted between moans and sighs.
He tilted my hips and set a rhythm, driving my ass into the car seat. He was so deep, hitting just the right spot.
"Yes, don't stop." My fingers dug into his muscled shoulders when the waves of pleasure engulfed me. "Fuck…"
Gazing down at me, his smug grin pulled at the corner of his mouth. "God, I love doing this to you. Feeling you tighten around me. So fucking amazing." He bit his lip then groaned. "Oh, Katherine, I'm coming…" With one deep thrust, he buried himself as far as he could inside me and filled me with spurt after spurt of semen.
My fingers ghosted over his face, the corded muscles of his neck, over the dusting of hair, covering the planes of his chest.
He crushed his mouth against mine as if trying to devour me. With each subtle movement of his hips, I could feel his release coating my insides, mingling with my slickness.
"I love you so much, Katherine. Thank you."
Framing his face in my hands, I tried to reassure him. "I never wanted to leave. I just thought I had to."
"Never." He smiled and leaned back on his heels, his cock slipping from my body. His gaze fixated between my legs. "Maybe, we'll be able to look back on tonight as the night we created our child."
His optimism never failed to enthrall me. "Even without the pills, a lot of stars have to align for that to happen. Don't ge
t your hopes up."
He grasped my hand and pulled me up before wrapping an arm around my shoulder. "Look." He pointed to all the stars twinkling over the horizon. "They look perfectly aligned to me."
Epilogue
"You know, we don't have to do this. I'm a modern woman. I didn't need all this traditional stuff." My white dress draped over my distended belly while I straddled Lachlan's hips on the bed in his parent's English cottage.
He rubbed his hand up and down my thigh. "Nonsense. My mother was beside herself with joy. She loves weddings, and even more so, she likes her grandchildren born in wedlock." Clasping both my hands in his, he played with the set of rings on my finger. "So, Mrs. Sinclair, since we've properly consummated this marriage, how about I spend the rest of the night rubbing your feet and catering to your every need?"
I smiled and rolled off of him with a groan. The baby could not come soon enough. "Deal."
Lachlan shifted to face me as I lay out of breath on my back. He propped himself up on one arm and rubbed his hand over my stomach. "I read in the book Kelly bought you that semen can help bring on labor."
I snickered. "Well, then you better get to work because I'm ready."
"Geez, woman, I just gave you a deposit. I'm a man, not a machine." Pulling my dress up over my belly, he pressed a kiss to the taut skin. "I sure hope you're not as demanding as your mother," he whispered to the baby.