The question of why Patrick had been looking at their wedding photo was foremost on her mind, and it gave her a sweet, heavy feeling inside.
“Mommy, kiss Daddy,” Audrey mumbled. “Like you did in the picture.”
Amy gave Patrick an incredulous look, but he smiled at her and leaned forward to kiss her simply on the mouth.
A shockwave ran through her body.
A single kiss was still enough to make her melt, whip her heart into a wild gallop. Just like all those years ago. Just one kiss.
When he pulled away, she was dazed and reluctant to open her eyes. But she did, and his eyes told her he knew exactly how she felt. Audrey murmured contentedly and was asleep the next instant.
Amy and Patrick both rose cautiously and snuck to the door. Before they left the room, Patrick turned around once more and nodded in Audrey’s direction. “She seems knackered, as the Brits like to say.” Audrey had slipped her thumb into her mouth and was burrowing deeper under the covers, already fast asleep.
Amy tilted her head to one side and studied her daughter with an indulgent expression. “Small wonder, after such an exciting birthday.”
She slipped out the door after Patrick and pulled it closed behind them. They stood in the hallway, silent, and face to face.
The party had long been wrapped up, the guests all gone. The day had been stressful and overwhelming, mostly because of the way it had brought home to Amy how much she still felt for Patrick. Now she was experiencing a strange shyness, unsure of what to say to him.
She settled on something innocuous. “Thank you for this great day, Patrick. Audrey was so thrilled with all the attention.”
His brow furrowed. “But how did you feel? Did anyone harass you?”
His concern was touching. She smiled. “No, everything was fine. The day was a dream.”
“Amy.” His hand cupped her cheek. “You should have told me right away how little you felt about attending all those parties, and how terrible all those snobs made you feel.”
“Oh, Patrick,” she whispered, “that was such a long time ago.”
“It doesn’t matter,” he replied firmly. “I want you to feel comfortable here.”
Amy swallowed and took a step closer. “Well, I feel good when I’m with you. I always did.”
Shreds of her memories appeared suddenly before her mind’s eye: from their time in Rome, their trip to the beach house, the first morning in the orange orchard, where their wedding had later taken place. She couldn’t stop herself any more. She stood on tiptoe to bring her face closer to his.
He inclined his head, slowly and deliberately. Holding her breath, her heart beating wildly, Amy watched his lips come closer and closer. Trembling all over, she finally closed her eyes and felt his soft mouth on hers. She let out a sigh as his lips brushed hers tenderly. First he kissed her lower lip, then the corner of her mouth, and then his mouth finally claimed hers.
Amy pressed her body against his and wrapped her arms around his neck, trying to be as close to him as possible. His lips caressed her mouth firmly and nibbled at her upper lip while his fingers stroked her back. Then his hands gently wrapped around her neck, proceeding to tease the sensitive skin there.
Cautiously, his tongue slipped into her mouth, meeting hers and mating with it. Amy tilted her head for better access, while her stomach seemed to fill with thousands of butterflies. Her whole body tingled under his tender kiss, which she hoped would never end.
Slowly, though, he pulled back, still pressing passionate little kisses to her lips, before rubbing his stubbly cheek against hers and sighing. He pulled one of her hands up to his mouth and nibbled gently at her fingertips. She stared into his glittering green eyes like a woman hypnotized, sure her knees would buckle if he continued to look at her like that.
“I don’t want to be alone anymore,” he whispered in a husky voice, pressing his body more urgently against hers.
Tilting her head, Amy pressed her mouth against his in another passionate kiss. But this one deepened, mirroring their hunger and desperate lust.
Patrick lifted her in his arms and carried her into her bedroom. His foot kicked the door shut, and he lay her down on the bed.
With deliberate but shaking hands, he slipped her dressed off her shoulders, while Amy simply stared at him breathlessly. She lay before him in her underwear, warmed by his intense gaze.
Not wanting to waste another second, she pulled him down on top of her.
It was heaven.
***
Bright sunshine and birds singing woke Amy the following morning.
Still sleepy, she snuggled farther under the covers against the warm body behind her. Patrick exuded warmth and security, and Amy nestled shamelessly into his unconscious embrace. He’d wrapped an arm around her in his sleep. His thighs were pressed against hers, one of his calves between hers. Her back was braced by his muscled chest, her head against his throat, her butt against his abs, his left arm wrapped around her rib cage. And she could feel his breath against her skin, utterly relaxed.
Filled with unspeakable bliss, she buried her face in the soft pillow, which smelled of him.
It had not been long since they’d finally fallen asleep, after making love for hours. This time, it had been making love, no doubt about it. He’d kissed her—tenderly and deeply and forever. His hands had explored every inch of her body, and he’d held her afterward. Sweaty and smiling, she’d rested in the crook of his arm as his gently trembling hands had brushed her curls aside.
Patrick had kissed her belly and run his thumb over her faded stretch marks. She’d gingerly touched his new scar, a token of the recent surgery.
Before they’d finally fallen asleep, he’d pulled the covers up over both of them and held her tight. They hadn’t talked much, mostly touching, kissing, and arousing each other silently. Once, however, while she was resting against his chest, he’d quietly asked her to tell him about her pregnancy.
Just as quietly, Amy had told him how she’d thought about him almost every day, and had sometimes believed she’d go insane if she didn’t return to Connecticut, to him. He hadn’t commented on that, merely kissed her with an almost frightening tenderness.
Now he was mumbling softly to himself, stirring behind her.
Amy nestled closer against his warm body and felt him tighten his grip around her midriff.
“Mmm,” he murmured, still half-asleep, and buried his face in her hair.
Amy smiled and opened her eyes—only to find herself staring into the mini version of Patrick’s face.
In her pajamas, Audrey stood beside Amy’s bed studying her spooning parents with a curious, thoughtful expression. “Mommy? What is Daddy doing in your bed?”
Behind her, Patrick stiffened, apparently now wide awake.
“Audrey’s here,” Amy whispered over her shoulder, before offering her daughter a smile. “Good morning, honey. What are you doing in here this early?”
“I was waking you up so we can have breakfast, Mommy.”
“That’s very nice of you,” Amy replied warmly. “Why don’t you go ahead downstairs and wait for me there?”
Audrey didn’t budge, continuing to stare at them. Her small face looked confused and thoughtful.
There was a rustling as Patrick moved behind Amy. “Good morning, love,” he greeted Audrey, his voice sleepy. “Did you sleep well?”
The little girl gave him a questioning look. “Why are you in Mommy’s bed?”
“Oh, uh …” He took a deep breath. “Mommy was cold last night, so I offered to keep her warm.”
“Why are you naked if you were cold?”
Amy threw Patrick a look of alarm, but Audrey wasn’t done yet.
“And why are your clothes all over the floor, Mommy?”
Amy blushed and buried her face in the pillow. Patrick giggled behind her and pressed a kiss to her naked shoulder. “Audrey, why don’t you go downstairs and see if there’s any cake left. We could have it for
breakfast if you’re still interested in that.”
Audrey’s eyes widened excitedly, and she was about to fly out the door, but Patrick called her back again. “Don’t Mommy and I get a kiss first?”
Though Audrey was now in a hurry to get downstairs, she hopped up on the bed and gave first Amy, and then her dad, a wet kiss on the cheek. Then she ran from the room, leaving the door wide open.
Amy closed her eyes with a groan. “God, what must she be thinking?”
Patrick put a hand on her hip under the covers, stroking it soothingly. “She’s going to think Mommy and Daddy are weird, sleeping naked when they’re cold, and then she’s not going to think about anything but finishing off her birthday cake.”
“I hope you’re right,” she murmured.
“Amy?”
Hearing the serious tone in his voice, she turned her head first, followed by her body, until she lay face to face with him—and body to body. Her heart began to race, and she wondered if he was about to call the preceding night another mistake.
But, instead, he kissed the tip of her nose. “Isn’t it time we talked about our future?”
“Our future?” she murmured hesitantly.
“Precisely.” His green eyes bored into her blue ones. “Can you imagine staying here with Audrey? Staying with me?”
Amy took a deep breath. “Patrick—”
“I’d really like to forget about the divorce,” he declared firmly, swallowing. “And I’d also like for you to … move in with me again … Into my rooms, I mean.”
Amy’s eyes widened, and she felt a little dizzy. “Did you decide all of that after just one night in the same bed?”
“No.” Patrick’s voice was strained and nervous. “I’ve been thinking about it for a while.”
She didn’t know what to say. She just stared at him, feeling lost at sea.
He wrapped his hands around hers. “Why don’t we give our marriage another chance, Amy?” he murmured. “I’ve grown up, and I promise I won’t repeat the same mistakes.”
Amy swallowed bitter tears. “Please, don’t apologize!”
“But I want to.” He nodded gravely. “I’ve only realized over these last few weeks all that I did wrong back then. And it won’t happen again.”
She wrapped her arms around his neck. “It’s not your fault, Patrick. I’m the one who left.” She tried not to cry, burying her face against his throat. “I … I didn’t even give us a chance.”
“Then do it now,” he said tenderly. “We have a daughter, and we can start over all together. We used to be happy, Amy.”
She didn’t hesitate any longer. She kissed him gently. And when she nodded, her heart was full. All she felt was happiness and relief.
Chapter 15
Patrick had resolved to maintain his great mood for the rest of the day, but when he stepped into the room outside Peter’s office, ignored his personal assistant, and walked through to his office without bothering to knock, he already knew it would be difficult to stick to that plan.
His friend was staring at the screen in front of him and hacking at the keyboard as if he were murdering someone. Patrick banged the door shut behind him and then marched over to the desk in a few quick strides.
Peter looked up at him. “Patrick!” he blurted out in shock. The surprise quickly mixed in with reluctance and nervousness. “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be working on the Maxwell project?”
“Screw the Maxwell project,” Patrick growled, crossing his arms. “What did you say to my wife?”
Peter frowned, put both palms flat on his desk, and shook his head. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Patrick gave a snort and rolled his eyes. “Weird. Because I think you know exactly what I’m talking about.”
“Wait a minute,” Peter interrupted him, sounding perplexed. “Your wife?”
“Yes, my wife,” Patrick repeated, raising his hand in the air so Peter could see he was wearing his wedding ring again.
“Are you implying that you and Amy …” Peter left his sentence unfinished.
Patrick crossed his arms and nodded fiercely. “Amy and I made up.”
“Patrick,” Peter groaned, shaking his head in such a reproachful manner you’d think he was Patrick’s schoolteacher. But Patrick didn’t think it was the least bit funny. He was nothing but furious.
For years, he had shown patience in overlooking the fact that his oldest friend constantly meddled in all Patrick’s affairs, business and private. But now he realized he had given Peter far too much leeway. And he knew why.
It had been his guilty conscience, the knowledge that Peter had been robbed of a grand future in his own father’s company when it had gone bankrupt. The two of them had always been two peas in a pod, so alike in every way. But then Peter’s dream of continuing his father’s enterprise had vanished into thin air. Patrick, on the other hand, had been free of any cares. He’d entered a flourishing business on the executive-management level right out of college. While Peter had a no less excellent degree, his future had looked a lot less rosy.
Suddenly, they weren’t so alike anymore, which had caused Patrick to ask his dad about giving a job to his friend when they both graduated. Unfortunately, Peter had put in so much effort that he often overshot the mark. Unauthorized decisions, constant interference, and the assumption that he had to do everything himself—and do it better—had turned Peter into a difficult colleague.
And yet Patrick would never have fired him. After all, Peter was still his oldest friend.
But that had been before Patrick had found out what Peter had done to Amy.
Now, Patrick was seething.
What in the hell had caused Peter to put these destructive ideas into Amy’s head? Patrick remembered full well how Peter had mentioned, time and again, the goddamn prenup, but he’d assumed that, after his clear warning, Peter had realized he needed to stay out of his friend’s marriage.
Clearly he was wrong. But he wasn’t the only angry one now.
“Don’t you remember what happened six years ago?” Peter demanded coldly. “Do you really want to make that same mistake again?”
Patrick snorted in disbelief. “You of all people want to lecture me on what happened six years ago?” he asked incredulously.
“Yes! Because I, at least, remember how you—”
“All I remember is that I told you in no uncertain terms to stay out of my marriage!” Patrick bellowed.
Peter’s face betrayed his confusion. “Which I did.”
“Oh, you did?” Patrick asked sarcastically. “Then why does my wife tell me you filled her head with absurd ideas about how my business associates would turn away from me, how they’d think me unfit or unsound for marrying her? And why did you tell her that I was having trouble with the board because of her? Or that an important deal had fallen through because I was with her in Rome?”
It took Peter a few moments to process those accusations, but when he did, he wrinkled his nose. “Do you mean to tell me your wife left you because I embellished a little gossip? Please, Patrick! She left you for some other reason, not because of some stupid little white lies.”
“Little white lies?” Patrick’s eyes bugged. “Are you completely insane? You made my wife feel so guilty, so unsettled that she thought she would be doing me a favor by up and vanishing from my life!”
“Jesus Christ!” Peter sighed heavily. “Who would think she would leave over something like that?”
Patrick balled his hands into fists, getting angrier by the minute. “Then why did you tell her those things at all?”
“Because I couldn’t let you run this company aground like my father did! My job was on the line, in case you forgot that.”
Stunned, Patrick shook his head. “Excuse me?”
Peter nodded triumphantly. “Didn’t you see what was happening? You met her and—boom—you just disappeared in Italy for three weeks, out of touch and unaware of the fact that the Hanson de
al was lost. If things had proceeded like that—”
“That was not your decision to make!”
“Well, it was obvious you weren’t making any decisions at all! Just think of that pre-nup you wouldn’t sign! That was insane and negligent. If our clients and partners had seen how naïve you were acting about your own damn marriage, they’d have abandoned this sinking ship.”
“You’re not just exaggerating, you’re spewing a bunch of bullshit,” Patrick forced out scornfully. “Nobody cared about the details of my marriage! And even if they did, it’s nobody’s business how my wife and I choose to organize our lives. It certainly isn’t yours!”
“I was doing you a favor!”
“A favor?” Incredulous, Patrick shook his head and took another menacing step toward the desk. “Thanks to your little white lies and all the goddamned gossips we know, Amy was fully convinced that I no longer wanted her in my life! That is the reason she left, and that is the reason I didn’t get to meet my daughter until she was five years old. Do you call that a favor?”
Apparently, Peter didn’t know how to answer that. After a long silence, he stammered, “Fuck, Patrick, I … I just thought she’d give you a little more latitude, more time for the job! How was I supposed to know she’d run away?”
So Peter fully admitted that the purpose of his fabricated stories had been to upset and unsettle Amy. That was the last straw.
“What else did you tell her?” Patrick asked coldly. “What else did you make her feel guilty for?”
“Shit, Patrick,” Peter muttered. “It’s been over six years. How am I supposed to remember every word I said? You gotta admit it was harmless! She was clearly overreacting.”
“Nothing about it was harmless,” Patrick said carefully. “You drove her away.”
“Jesus!” Peter rolled his eyes. “You do realize you just saved yourself a lot of trouble, don’t you? Do you have any idea how little time you’d have had for the company if you’d had a screaming infant in the house?”
Just one kiss (The Ashcrofts Book 1) Page 28