Finally, he trailed his fingertips over her face, her hair, then touched his forehead to hers. “And I was so deep inside myself, I didn’t even notice.”
“I didn’t make it easy for you to notice,” she said, her voice barely a whisper, like his. She closed her eyes, absorbing his gentle touch as silent tears gathered. “I didn’t want you to know.”
“And after Hannah was home?” he asked softly.
She opened her eyes and looked deep into his. “What good would it have done? How would it have helped to add to your pain?”
“So it was your pain.”
“Yes.” It still hurt so badly, like a burn on her heart that wouldn’t heal. Those feelings, the pain, and the loss were all tangled up in losing Nick until she couldn’t seem to separate the two. Couldn’t stop herself from wondering if it would have made a difference. If a baby would have brought Nick new life and a new hope for the future. If a baby would have helped Hannah heal. But she knew it could have just as easily brought Nick more guilt.
“In a way, I think it made it easier. Not having our shared happiness and plans and excitement be one more thing to mourn.”
“Mia.” He caught her against his chest, and then she let the tears fall. “I’m sorry.”
“I’m sorry, too. I’m sorry, too,” she repeated, crying harder. “I kept thinking when things got better, I’d tell you and we could be sad together then maybe try again.”
“But they never did.”
“No.” Things never got better.
With Nick’s face buried in her hair, they held each other and took this time to mourn together.
IN THE DARK, NICK watched her sleep, just able to make out her features. But he didn’t need light—everything about her was burned into his memory. He traced the shape of her mouth and brows, unaware of time passing as he ran his fingers through her hair.
He’d held her for a long time after their talk, her body spent but still not totally relaxed. Every few minutes, lighting flashed, followed by the low rumble of distant thunder. After a while, he got up and returned with a cold washcloth for her eyes. She lay on her side, facing him, and he wiped the cloth over her face.
Now she finally slept. He traced the lines of her face. Her long lashes curled thick and dark with remnants of tears. Even now, with her hand lightly curled under her chin in sleep, her skin was still flushed. So beautiful. Not wanting to wake her but unable to stop himself, he brushed a light kiss over her forehead. They’d made a baby together. It was still sinking in, his mind still trying to grasp the enormity of that. Her stomach that lay flush against his side had held a life, even if for a short time.
She’d stayed with him longer than he deserved, taken more hits than anyone should have. Especially her.
He thought he was the only one who knew what it was like to lay your head down on the pillow at night and try to sleep when someone you loved was missing. It was a certain kind of hell, and he’d been sure no one could understand it. But she’d been there right beside him. She’d felt it, too.
He tried to think back, searching for a day she’d come home to him after losing their baby. Had there been something in her eyes if he’d taken the time to look? She couldn’t have hidden it from him if he’d given her half a glance. She was right. He didn’t see her any more. He had stopped seeing her.
He tightened his arms around her, buried his face in her hair, and spent the rest of the night asking himself how in God’s name he’d stopped seeing his Mia.
* * *
THE CLOUD-COVERED SKY OF morning cast a dull light over Mia’s kitchen. Rain fell, soft and steady, soaking the ground and pooling on the sidewalk. They came awake together, made love again, slowly, silently.
Now she stood at the counter waiting on the coffee while Nick toasted bagels a few feet away. She poured coffee into his cup. He placed her bagel on a plate. They moved around each other, the falling rain covering the silence. She wasn’t sure how she felt about them having a quiet morning in her kitchen. She might regret falling apart on him yesterday, opening herself up to him, but knew she couldn’t have stopped it. She thought of that quicksand and knew she better find something to grab onto and quick.
He met her eyes over the rim of his coffee cup. “What did you do after you left the house that day?”
Mia took a second before she answered. They’d covered a lot of ground last night, but his question just proved there was still more to cover. She wasn’t excited to go over what she thought of as her heartbroken years.
“I took a few days, then I went back to Boston. I went home. Neither of my parents were well, so it was good. I regrouped, went back to school for a few classes. My mom had a stroke shortly after my return. I couldn’t work full time and take care of her, but I needed to do something, so it was good. Later, I was able to get into a psych rotation. It worked.”
“But you said you weren’t a psychiatrist.”
“No. I quickly found that psychiatry was not my calling. I had no desire to work in a hospital. I have the degree if I ever need it. It saves people from having to go to another doctor if I really feel medication would help them. I specialize in grief counseling. I do a lot of work with couples. It’s not always death or illness. Drug addiction brings a certain grief to parents. Guilt. Blame. It’s difficult, and the wedge that’s often driven between them makes it even more so.”
He stared into his coffee, a humorless laugh on his lips. “We’d know something about that.”
“Yes. We would.”
“So where do we go from here?”
“I don’t know.” Sometimes the why and the how didn’t matter, she thought. Sometimes there was enough hurt that a love was simply broken. It didn’t matter whose fault or how true the justifications. A broken heart was still broken, and it still took time to put it back together. If it even could be.
Nick set his mug on the counter and came to stand in front of her. He looked at her for a long time. Touched her hair and her cheek. “It scares me too, you know. What I feel for you. What I've always felt.”
“Have you always felt it?” She hated to ask, but if there was any chance for them, she needed to know. What had happened to them? How had he let her go so easily?
“More than I wanted to let myself. Losing Hannah, finding her the way I did, it changed me, but I never stopped loving you.” He framed her face in his big, warm hands. “Not for a second. I might have buried it so deep you couldn’t feel it, but it was still there. Always. I lost you, lost us. Now it feels like I have a chance again. Like we have a chance.”
Nick had never lied to her, especially about his feelings. Even at nineteen, she’d known that. But it hadn’t been enough before. Why would it be enough now? “And now you can believe you deserve it?”
“I’m working on that, but I know you do.”
Did she want a chance? To open her heart to him again, have it crushed again? She’d needed him last night, and she’d given in to what he offered. She couldn’t regret their talk, the things that needed to be said, but what had really changed?
“I don’t blame you for not believing that.”
“It’s not that I don’t believe you.” She ached to reach out for him, to run her hands up his chest and lose herself in the passion that hadn’t diminished in all this time. He said he still loved her, but what did that mean? He loved her now, but he’d loved her then, hadn’t he? “Maybe there’s too much between us. Too much time and hurt.”
“I don’t believe that. I won’t.”
She stared down the hallway, thinking of the empty room. Nick had nothing to do with that. The baby they’d lost had nothing to do with the baby she’d lost without him, but… “Maybe some things should be left in the past or…maybe it’s just me. Maybe now I’m stuck just like you were.” Her heart hurt, it ached, bleeding from the hole Savannah had left and now all the old wounds from Nick torn open on top of that.
Nick was quiet for a long time. So was she, afraid he would mention the ba
by they had lost, grateful that he didn’t. She was too raw to go there again so soon. Maybe he was too.
“I didn’t use a condom, Mia. I’m sorry.”
She didn’t respond right away, trying to figure out how she felt about that. She gave up. Her emotions were too much of a gauntlet to fight her way through on this dark rainy morning. “It’s not the right time.”
She couldn’t tell if Nick was disappointed or relieved. God help her, she didn’t know which she was, either.
“I told you I loved you. I meant it.”
Completely overwhelmed, she started to move away. “Nick, you can’t just—”
“I can,” he said, pulling her against his chest, not letting her go. “And I’m sorry if it’s too soon.”
“It all feels too soon,” she whispered. “And at the same time, it feels much too late. I don’t want you to break my heart again, Nick. I don’t think it’s all the way repaired from the last time.”
“Mia.” His hand caressed slowly up and down her back. “I don’t want to break your heart. I don’t want to hurt you at all, ever. I didn’t want to before.”
“I know.” It was unnecessary to point out that he had all the same. Maybe she’d broken his, too. She looked up at the brown eyes she loved and forced herself to be stronger than she had before. “I know it may not make sense to you, but… the fact that I want to jump right back into what we had so badly scares me. That you’re saying you want it…” She shook her head. How could she trust that? How could he expect her to?
“I’m not just saying it, but I understand.”
His arms loosened around her, and she wanted to cry. She didn’t want to be alone, but so much had happened in such a short time, and she felt dazed, off balance, unable to cope. He could devastate her, and she didn’t think she could bear any more devastation. Not now, not yet. Maybe not ever.
“I should go.”
“I didn’t mean I wanted you to go.” Damn it.
“I know, but I need to.” He smoothed a hand over her hair then slipped his fingers under and curled them around her neck. “I want you so badly, I’m not above bringing out all my secret weapons to get you back into bed.”
“You have secret weapons?” she asked, teasing.
“Maybe I’ll show you some time.”
They shared a smile. He’d always been good at making her smile. It went a long way to easing her knotted emotions. “I’ll pour you some fresh coffee to go.” She took his mug, poured it, and refilled it. When she handed it to him, he took it and set it aside, then, in an achingly tender gesture, brushed the hair back from her face. He kissed her, beginning with a slow brush of his lips, then taking her under. His kiss was a weapon she knew well.
“I’m working a case that’ll take me out of town a lot the next couple of months. We’re working in conjunction with the Maryland office.”
“Is it dangerous?”
“No.”
“Would you tell me if it was?”
“No.” He sent her a crooked half smile, and she scowled at him, not wanting to think how she could lose him like that.
“It’s more than traveling. They’ve set me up in a temporary apartment. Bad timing, I know.”
“Because Hannah’s engaged.”
“Maybe that’s part of it. I’m still getting used to the idea. Though it seems this is happening, and I’d better get on board or get left behind.”
She smiled again. “That’s progress.”
“Yeah. But really, I was thinking the timing is off for us. This thing that’s still between us, I don’t want to lose it before we give it a chance or give you time to decide it’s a bad bet. I don’t mind giving you time, but you need to know, I’m not stepping away.”
She tried to speak, but he kissed her again until she couldn’t string two words together. Rough hands framed her face. His eyes stared into hers until she couldn’t breathe. Then his lips brushed hers in a touch so soft it shouldn’t have kindled a fire in her blood, yet it did.
She sank into him, falling deeper and hating herself for letting it happen. They hadn’t seen each other in ten years, then a night of passion and the heartbreak that nothing had changed. Then last night, Nick had been there to hold her crumbling pieces together, made sweet love to her for hours. More had been shared, more had been said and admitted, and now he was in her kitchen saying he wasn’t going to step back from her.
The kiss ended with their foreheads touching, both of them breathless. Then he pressed a kiss to the top of her head, took the coffee she’d poured, and left her standing weak kneed in her kitchen while the rain continued to fall.
Chapter 21
MIA SAT IN THE barn office, waiting on Hannah to say goodbye to a student. It smelled old but clean. She studied the pictures attached to the wood-paneled wall with thumbtacks. There were old ones of the previous owners and new ones of Hannah and her students. Most were of Whiney, Hannah’s beloved palomino.
There was one of Hannah and Nick. Her heart shuddered. It shouldn’t hurt to fall in love with someone a second time, but she felt an enormous weight on her chest.
She’d taken the past weeks to put her life in order. She’d given the crib to Abby then accepted her invitation for coffee and, in the process, felt like she’d made a new friend. She’d stopped calling the adoption agency and given clothes and books to the women’s and children’s shelter. Now one more thing. Sharing good memories from the past without thinking of it like a loss.
“I told you he was a cutie,” Hannah said of the little burn victim she’d just seen off.
“Yes. He is.”
“You want a drink?” Hannah went to her mini fridge on the other end of the shoebox-sized room.
“No, thanks. His parents may have to let him live here. The joy in his eyes was practically blinding.”
“I know. His family’s going on vacation, and he was extra sad to say goodbye to Hazel today. Ahh.” Hannah sank into the desk chair, opened a bottle of water, and took a long drink. “What’d you bring?”
“This.” Mia held out the photo box to Hannah. “Old pictures, things I saved of yours, from kindergarten, mostly. I’d forgotten I had so much.”
Hannah opened the box and lifted the first picture: herself on a pink bicycle. “Oh, look. I remember that. Zach finally talked me into taking off the training wheels. I fell and bloodied my knee in the first two minutes.”
“And Nick was furious.”
“Yes. He was.” Hannah smiled and sifted through the stack.
“I kept a few,” Mia said. “But you should have them.”
“Thank you.” Hannah picked up more pictures, including a few from a long-ago Christmas.
“I’m sure you have some of the same ones somewhere, on Nick’s computer or something, but these were printed out, so…”
Hannah touched her arm. “Thank you.” She got to a more recent photo of herself, at maybe thirteen or fourteen years old, and stopped to study it. “Wow. I hardly remember being this age.”
That was the age she’d been when she was taken. Maybe bringing up the past wasn’t a good idea.
“I know Nick and the way he worries now. I can’t imagine how he must have been then.”
“You don’t have to think about it.”
“It’s okay. I can think about it now.”
She studied Hannah’s face and saw it was true. “Do I have one sexy McKinney brother to thank for that?”
Hannah smiled. “I’d say he has a lot to do with it.” Hannah gave her a long look then went back to the photos. She pulled out a photo of Mia and Nick. “Has Nick seen these?”
“No.”
“Has Nick seen you?”
“Not lately, he’s been out of town, but…”
“But?” Hannah waited.
“I have seen him a couple of times.” Mia sighed and tried for a smile, but it came off shaky. She stared down at the worn indoor-outdoor carpet. “More than seen him.”
“Oh. Oh!” Hannah repeated,
catching on. “I had no idea.”
“No. You wouldn’t. And it’s, well… I’m not sure what it is.” Because she was too afraid to go down that road. Her eyes burned with the memory of his heavy arm wrapped around her that rainy morning. Why did the memory of his comfort make her want to cry?
“Mia.” The kindness in Hannah’s voice almost undid her. “I’m sorry if he hurt you.”
She forced a smile. She didn’t want anyone to know she was sick with love for him. Again. She was barely able to admit it to herself. “I think we hurt each other.” And that was true, and something she had to think about.
Before Hannah could dig deeper or wrap her in a hug that surely would have undone her, Stephen called out.
“Hannah?”
They both turned at the deep voice. “Speak of the devil. In here,” Hannah called.
Stephen pushed open the office door and went right to Hannah. “Hey, babe.” He greeted his fiancée with an easy kiss on the temple. “Hey, Mia.”
“Hey, Stephen. Good to see you.”
“You, too.” He turned to Hannah. “What’s this?”
“Mia brought me some old pictures.”
Even as she was answering, he was taking the box. “Look at you.” He pulled out one of Hannah at maybe six. She had a missing front tooth and wore pink footy pajamas.
“Oh,” he said on a breath. “I’m taking this one.”
“What? Why? I look ridiculous.”
If Hannah missed the stark look of love in Stephen’s eyes, Mia didn’t. It shot straight through her. “Because he loves you,” Mia said.
Stephen kissed the top of Hannah’s head. “So true.”
Was she really so afraid that she would turn her back on a love like that? But if she let herself fall and Nick closed himself off again… “I have to go,” Mia said.
“Don’t let me run you off.”
“You’re not. I really need to get back and…” What exactly did she have to get back to? “I was going to pick up some flowers, do some planting.”
Worth the Wait (McKinney/Walker #1) Page 17