Cole briefly closes his eyes and turns his body to mine. “Please don’t make this harder than it has to be.”
My chest burns as I try to hold back my tears. Still, one slips down my cheek. “You don’t get to do this,” I say, and I carefully wipe beneath my eye. “You don’t get to just leave this time without telling me why.” Anger mixes with my sorrow, and I let it show through my tone.
“Look at me, Jenna,” Cole says and gestures to his shirt before showing me the cuts on his hands. “I’m covered in another man’s blood. This wasn’t supposed to happen. But it did and then …” He swallows hard and shakes his head as his gaze falls to my cheek. “If I’m not here, I can’t hurt anyone.” He softens his voice. “I can’t hurt you.”
“It was a mistake,” I say. “Please, don’t do this.”
“A mistake?” Cole repeats, narrowing his eyes. “I fucking hit you! I don’t care what you call it, it never should have happened.”
“You’re right, but you don’t have to leave just so it never happens again. Let me help you—”
“Jenna,” Cole practically begs. “Stop. I’m a lost cause, so please, just stop trying to fix me.”
We stand at an impasse, and I realize that no matter what I say I’m about to lose him.
“That’s it then,” I tell him, my voice harsh as I lose myself to my anger. My heart is pounding as blood pumps viciously through my veins. “You’re just going to quit. Just throw away everything. All that we had…” Unable stop myself, a sob escapes me. “And all that we could’ve had?”
Cole closes the distance between us, calling me ”baby” as he reaches for me.
“Don’t call me that,” I say and tear myself from his arms as I stare him down. “Leave.”
A moment of shock crosses his face.
“If you’re going to leave, just do it already,” I tell him and then draw in a ragged breath. “Stop dragging this out and just go.” My chest heaves as I try to control my breathing. “Leave!”
Cole takes a step away from me, holding my gaze for the longest time before tightening his jaw and straightening his back. He gives me one soft brief nod, then he turns and leaves me standing by the lake.
I’m about to lose it, but I refuse to let him see me break down. If he really needs to go, I’ll let him, no matter how much it kills me inside. Clutching my throat and my stomach, I watch him walk away from me. He doesn’t look back. He just gets in his truck and slowly drives away. Only then do I let myself succumb to the pain. I collapse to the ground, letting my tears and sobs break free. And for the second time in my life, my entire world just falls apart.
16
cole
Walking away from her was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do, but it’s for the best. I did the right thing. She’s better off without me. One of these days she’ll meet someone good, someone whole she won’t have to worry about piecing back together, and she can be happy knowing they can love without conditions.
These are the lies I’ve been telling myself for the last forty minutes as I drive down this desolate back road. My heart, on the other hand, keeps telling me to stop being an idiot. Go back to her. She needs you. You need her. You love her.
Well, fuck you, heart. You’re the one that got me into this mess to begin with. I was doing just fine in Colorado, and then you had to go stirring up those feelings I’d locked away for good. And look where they got me.
Look where they got me indeed.
I was happy. Reunited with friends and family I’d missed severely. I was home. But most of all, I finally had the love of the woman I’ve wanted for years … and I just threw it all away.
Jesus. I am an idiot.
“What am I doing?” I mutter to myself as I stare out the windshield into the vast darkness that surrounds me. Am I really giving up this easily? We had one small situation—okay, maybe not a small situation because I lost my temper and she ended up getting hurt as a direct result of that unfortunate incident, but still. Do I really want to throw away what could be the rest of my life—the rest of our lives—because I’m too much of a coward to stay and face my problems?
I slam on the brakes, screeching the tires against the asphalt and causing the back end of my truck to fish tail. The truck skids to a stop, and I sit there breathing heavily as I grip the steering wheel. Thoughts swirl in my head, mixing with memories and promises I’ve made throughout the years. I promised Jenna, my parents, and Emma that I’d come back safely from the war. Promised I keep my friends safe while we were away. I promised myself that I’d fulfill Adam’s dying request to take care of Jenna. And I promised her just a few short hours ago that I was done wasting my life on wrong decisions.
Pulling a U-turn in the middle of the road, I push the gas pedal and floor it back toward the lake house. I may not have been able to come through on all of those promises, but, so help me God, I’m going to keep the ones I still have a chance at.
I’ve been sitting in the driveway with the truck off for about ten minutes as I contemplate going to the house now or just sleeping here and waiting until morning to fix my mess. All of the lights are off, but Jenna’s white sedan is still parked in the same spot as when I left, so she has to be here.
Fuck it, I decide, and I grab my keys as I step out of my truck and make my way up to the house. Time to suck it up and stop running from my problems. I stop at the door, pausing with my hand raised as I take in a deep breath and knock. Then I wait … and wait some more. I knock again and look through the glass panes, trying to see any movement on the inside.
Nothing.
Okay, maybe she isn’t here.
My shoulders slump as I release a defeated sigh. There’s a good possibility that she called Emma after I left, and the two of them are together somewhere. But she has to come back sometime, right? I make the decision to just wait here on the steps for her, but after five minutes of drumming my fingers together, I change my mind and decide to wait inside—wanting to wash up a bit change out of these clothes that have Mark’s blood on them before seeing Jenna again. Grabbing my bag from my truck, I cross the porch and give the door handle a turn. It’s locked, naturally.
Reaching in my wallet, I grab my credit card and work to jimmy the door open—making a mental note that I really need to ask my parents where they hide the spare key. The door pops open and I pocket my wallet before walking into the pitch black space and dropping my duffel bag on the floor. Shutting the door behind me, I go to reach for the light switch—
“Jesus Christ,” I shout as the lights come on. I’m startled into stumbling backward, hitting the end table and knocking the lamp over at the sight of Jenna standing there armed with a frickin’ baseball bat. “Where the hell did you get that?”
“I found it in the closet after the first time you broke in here,” she tells me, her expression flat as she keeps her stance, ready to swing any second.
My heart is hammering against my ribs as I hold my hands up, showing her I’m not a threat. “Baby, can you put the bat down?”
Her eyes narrow and she tightens her grip on the handle. “What are you doing here, Cole?” she asks me. “I thought I told you to leave.”
“You did,” I say, and I take a cautious step toward her. “But I came back because I need to talk to you.”
“We have nothing to talk about,” she tells me with her chin held in defiance. “You made your decision. Now leave before I swing this thing around and hit you with it.”
“Do it,” I say and keep moving toward her. “Aim for my head. Maybe you’ll knock some sense into me.”
“Not funny.”
“I’m not trying to be.” Closing the distance between us, I hold her gaze and slowly reach for the bat. My palm curls around the barrel as I urge her to lower it, bringing it down by our sides. “Can we please talk?”
Tears spring to her eyes as she glances over my face. “You left me,” Jenna says, her voice soft and wobbly. “You just walked away. How could you do that to
me? Again?”
“I don’t know,” I answer her honestly and meet her gaze. “This wasn’t in my plan. I never meant to hurt you. I’ve only ever wanted to just be with you and take care of you. Keep you safe.” Tentatively, I raise my hand and brush a strand of her hair behind her ear. “Keep you happy. And for the longest time, I thought the only way I could do that was if I stayed away from you. But Jenna, I don’t want to stay away from you. I can’t stay away from you.” I grin and let out a soft, short chuckle. “Hell, I tried it for years—tried to lock away the feelings I have for you—but look what happened: I’m back in Virginia because of you. To be with you.” Slowly, I pull the baseball bat from her loosened grip and let it fall to the floor before interlocking my fingers with hers. “I know I’m not perfect. The things I’ve seen and the things I’ve done have made me half the man I used to be. And I can’t stand here and promise you that I won’t make mistakes because I’m sure I’ll have my fair share of them.”
A tear slips down her cheek, and as I gently stroke it away, she closes her eyes and nuzzles into my hand.
“I love you, Jenna. I’ve loved you for years—even when I wasn’t supposed to love you.” I cup her jaw in my palm and turn her face to mine as our eyes meet. “I can’t offer you perfection, but if you want it, you can have what’s left of me.”
Seconds tick by and anxiety builds in my chest as I wait for a reply—any reply.
“That,” she says, releasing a cross between a laugh and a sob, “is the speech you should’ve given me two hours ago.”
A smile tips my mouth as her hands lay against my chest. “I’m still hurt, and I’m still angry that you just walked away, but … I love you too, Cole,” Jenna says, her voice soft and warm as she tilts her head to the side and looks up at me with those mesmerizing green eyes. “Don’t ever walk away from me again. Please. Losing you once was bad enough, and thinking I lost you again …” She pauses and takes in a settling breath. “I don’t want perfect. I just want you.”
“You have me, baby,” I tell her, and I lean down to press my lips against hers for one slow, sweet kiss. “For as long as you want me.”
“Is forever too long?” she asks with a soft laugh.
I smile and pull her into my arms, lifting her so her arms and legs wrap around me as I carry her to the bedroom. “Not long enough.”
EPILOGUE
FIVE YEARS LATER
jenna
“Jenna,” Cole calls from the hallway. “Baby, there’s something on my leg, and I need you to help me get it off.”
A little giggle follows his call for help, and I smile as Cole enters the nursery with our three-year-old wrapped around the bottom of his leg.
“Oh my goodness,” I say with a soft laugh. “You do have a problem.”
“It won’t come off,” Cole teases. “I’ve tried everything—walking, turning in a circle, even lifting my leg and trying to shake it off.” He demonstrates that last one, which sends Kaylee into a fit of giggles.
“Hmm?” I play into their little game and tilt my head as I pretend to think hard. “Have you tried to tickle it off of you?”
“No, I haven’t tried that one, yet,” Cole says and bends down to Kaylee. Her little body scrunches in anticipation, and as soon as his fingers touch her sides, she falls off him from laughing so hard. “All right, little girl. Time for bed.” Cole lifts her from the floor and brushes her blonde curls away from her brown eyes. She’s the perfect combination of us, but takes more after Cole with her fun-loving, mischievous nature. We’re going to have some interesting times ahead of us for sure with that one. “Say goodnight to mommy and your baby brother.”
“Goodnight, sweet pea,” I say to Kaylee when Cole brings her over to me, and I give her a kiss on her pink cheeks.
“Night-night, Mommy,” she says, in that little girl voice I just can’t get enough of, then leans over in Cole’s arms to kiss the baby. “Night-night, Adam.”
Looking up I meet Cole’s eyes, and he shoots me a wink and a smile as he carries our daughter from the nursery to her bedroom. Both rooms are new additions to the lake house that Cole’s parents graciously gifted us with four and a half years ago as our wedding gift. Things have certainly changed around here since then, and we couldn’t be happier.
Adam squirms in my arms and begins to fuss. “Shh, it’s okay, baby,” I coo as I gently set the rocker in motion. This was another gift, but this one came from my amazingly talented husband who handcrafted the entire piece.
Cole’s dream job, the one he fell in love with while living in Colorado, turned out to be woodworking, and he carried that passion over into making furniture. I’m amazed at the stuff he comes up with, and other people must feel the same way too because “Sullivan’s Fine Furnishings” is always receiving new orders for custom pieces. Cole’s workshop in the side yard is packed with projects he’s working on, and I couldn’t be prouder of the business he’s built and of how far he’s come over the years.
It took him some time, but eventually he was able to control the anger he’d held on to after my brother’s death—redirecting that emotion into his hobby/career. Working with his hands calms and relaxes him, and I’m happy he found a peaceful outlet. He still claims he’s not perfect, but I have a difference of opinion on that.
His fallout with Mark also found some resolution. They’re still not best friends, but a few months after Cole and I were married, he and Mark actually had a civil conversation and were able put the past behind them so they could move on with their lives. We have Leona, Mark’s new wife, to thank for that. She was able to help him in a way that I never could, and I’m thankful she came into his life when she did.
My thoughts drift, and a smile curves my lips as I think about how fate had intervened all those years ago when Cole broke into this very house and I tried to knock him out with the tea kettle. I call it fate because I truly believe that that’s what it was. Someone, somewhere knew we belonged together and put us exactly where we needed to be so we could be reunited. I like to think it was this little guy’s namesake, and I’m sure Cole would have to agree.
“What’s that smile all about?” Cole asks in a low voice as to not disturb our son, who is now sleeping in my arms.
My smile widens when I look up to see him standing in the doorway with his arms crossed over his bare, broad chest, and his pajama bottoms slung low on his hips. He’s the epitome of sexy male—and I’m shamelessly proud to claim him as all mine.
“I was just thinking about you,” I tell him, and slowly stand up from the rocker to place Adam in his crib.
Cole moves next to me and wraps his arms around me from behind as I lay our son down. “Goodnight, buddy,” Cole whispers, and he reaches down to stroke Adam’s tiny little hand before we leave the nursery. “So that smile was all about me, huh?” Cole says as we walk into our bedroom.
Taking my bottom lip between my teeth, I give him a simple nod as I hold his gaze and move backward toward the bed. I love this man so much, and I could rattle off lists upon lists of why, but this right here, the way he looks at me like I’m the sexiest woman in existence—especially after bringing his children into the world—would definitely be high on the list.
Cole catches up to me, gripping the backs of my thighs and lifting me to him as he carries me the rest of the way to the bed. “Well then by all means, Mrs. Sullivan … let’s see how many more smiles I can put on your face tonight.”
The End
BOOKS BY
KIMBERLY LEWIS
The McKades of Texas Series
Zane (The McKades of Texas, Book 1)
Norah (The McKades of Texas, Book 2)
Standalones
When the Heart Falls
Coming Soon
Luke (The McKades of Texas, Book 3)
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
What would a book be without those special people who help make it all happen? I would guess not much fun, but luckily for me I have some pretty amazing people who
always come through and are there for me when I need them. A special thanks goes out to my most trusted beta readers: Ashley K., Ashley R., and my mother. You ladies are amazing and I’m so happy to have you to lean on when it comes time for story advice. To my editor Sam. I can’t even begin to thank you for making the editing process as painless as you make it. It’s always a pleasure (and great learning experience) working with you. And I can’t end my acknowledgments without thanking you, reader. When I published my first book five years ago, I was so thankful to have people actually buy it and even more thankful when they enjoyed it. This still gets me today, and I am so grateful that you take the time to read my stories. Thank you, thank you, thank you!
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Bestselling author Kimberly Lewis writes sweet, sexy contemporary romances filled with heart and humor.
Born and raised on the Eastern Shore of Maryland, this country girl caught the creative bug at an early age, doing everything from drawing to writing short stories. After dabbling in many genres, Kimberly rediscovered her love of romance stories and soon after published her first novel.
Kimberly still lives on the good old Eastern Shore of Maryland with her wonderful husband, two beautiful children, and spirited Doberman Pinschers. Along with writing, Kimberly enjoys reading, horseback riding, and spending time with her amazing family.
Kimberly loves to hear from readers and can be contacted through her website, www.kimberlylewisnovels.com.
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