“I believe in you Lindsey, in all of you.” He wrapped an arm tightly around her shoulders, afraid that if he loosened his grip she’d slip away from him like sand through open fingers.
*
Damien released the breath he was holding and opened the door to Veterans’ Services. A woman with choppy red hair and funky green glasses shot him a smile.
“Mr. Trent?” she asked, and stood up to shake his hand.
“Yes, ma’am. That’s me.” He returned her smile even though he suddenly wanted to run in the opposite direction.
“Jason will be with you in a few minutes. Please make yourself comfortable.” She settled back down at her desk and started clicking away at the computer keys.
He thanked her and chose one of the blue padded chairs. The bubbling fish tank and kids’ corner with books and blocks brought a doctor’s office to mind. He straightened the deep green tie Lindsey had helped him pick out. The simple shopping trip had turned into a nice afternoon, and gave him renewed hope after their tense dinner date. He had purchased the tie and a simple white collared shirt for his interview. On their way home, they’d stopped at an art shop and Lindsey added some paints and brushes to her basket. While she had been browsing, an elderly man had approached him. That’s a beautiful family you have, son. Cherish it. To an outsider, it might be easy to mistake them as a family. Caring for Maris seemed to come naturally for him, but doubt still nagged at him like a paper cut. Would it always be this easy, or in time would he change, just like his father had? Or worse, have the urge to run away, like his mother. Part of him still wondered if he was capable of taking on the role of a father at all. And what if things with Lindsey didn’t turn out the way he wanted? Would he still be able to see Maris? Damien’s stomach clenched. He was scared to death, but he had a real shot with Lindsey this time around. He wouldn’t blow it. He wouldn’t let shadows of his past chase away the present.
That’s why he was sitting in this office building, wearing a tie he desperately wanted to loosen, as sweat beaded on his forehead. He’d handled secret missions in hostile environments. He had kept his head cool and weapon steady when the enemy engaged him, but something about an interview made him want to get up, walk out of the building, and never look back. What made him think he could take a hack at a desk job, when all he’d ever known was the field?
After a short wait, Jay with his happy-go-lucky smile, appeared in the doorway.
“Come on in, Damien.” Jay stood in the reception area, tossing a rubber-band ball in one hand. Damien stood and followed Jay out of the waiting room and down a hallway. “I didn’t think you’d call, but I’m glad you came in.”
“My circumstances changed,” Damien said. His throat was as dry as the Sahara Desert.
Jay nodded and turned to his left. “Let’s go in here.”
The room held one oval conference table with six boardroom chairs. He let Jay choose one, then followed his lead and sat across from him. He had to get his cool, or he’d blow the whole damn thing.
“Sorry I wasn’t more prompt for our meeting. My sister called to tell me her two-year-old drank some toilet water. She was in a panic. Wanted to know if she should call poison control.” His laugh filled the room, and the tight ball in Damien’s shoulders eased.
“I got puked on the other day, and thought I was on the set of The Exorcist.” Damien grinned. He was surprised that talking about kids was now in his comfort zone.
“Yeah, they really can project at that age. My younger sister’s son had colic—it was a nightmare. I don’t have any of my own, but man have I taken my fair share of bodily fluids. Was this your friend’s baby? The one you mentioned at the bar?”
“Yes, my girlfriend’s daughter.” His shoulders relaxed at the thought of them. He was sure Lindsey was thinking of him, and would be waiting to hear news of the interview. It was a good feeling, to have someone care for you and cheer you on.
“Ah.” Jay gave him a knowing smile. “The reason the circumstances have changed?”
“Yes.” He tucked his hands in his lap to keep from fidgeting with his pen. Damn it he was literally sweating bullets. He could shake and water a garden for a month.
“It says a lot about your character, when you take on that responsibility. When you love a child that isn’t your own.” Jay leaned back casually in the chair, and propped his elbows on the armrests.
Jay had it right. He did love Maris. Damien had come to think of her as his own, and he couldn’t picture a future where he wasn’t able to watch her grow and laugh and play. Now when he thought of the weeks and years ahead, he always pictured Lindsey and Maris by his side. It made him hopeful, as well as unsettled. How could you feel two such different emotions at once?
They talked for over an hour about his time in the Marines, and his long-term plans. With every joke Jay cracked, the tension unraveled. Soon his hands were out of his pockets, resting against the table, and he no longer had the urge to swipe off his forehead every ten seconds. It didn’t feel like an interview at all—just two friends shooting the breeze.
“Damien, I think you’d be a great fit for our case specialist position. You and I would meet with military families to assess their needs, and set them up with available services like housing and job training. It’s a salaried position with health benefits, 401(k), and paid vacation.” Jay rattled off a salary that seemed fair to Damien.
They sealed the deal with some paperwork and a handshake, and Damien left the office. When the interview had ended, he expected some of the coils of stress lodged between his shoulder blades to ease. This was a big step for him. He never thought he’d try to make a life on the Cape. Now he was locking away a piece of himself that wanted to escape.
He sent Lindsey a quick text with the good news before getting on his bike to head home. That’s how he thought of the cottage now, as his home, and Lindsey and Maris were really the only family he had. He was grateful for them, but at times, the responsibility of it and the risk of losing them seemed overwhelming. Would he ever stop fearing he’d be left by the people he cared for?
He walked up the steps to the cottage, carrying his tie in one hand and portfolio in the other. Damien couldn’t wait to change out of the stiff shirt. He’d have to get used to this type of wardrobe, as it soon would be his everyday attire. When he swung the door open, Lindsey rushed to him and jumped in his arms. He grinned and pulled her in for a deep kiss, one that made his pulse quicken. When he looked up, he saw the kitchen was filled with red-and-blue balloons.
“Congratulations, Damien! I’m so happy for you.” Lindsey’s smile was ear-to-ear. “I hope you still like meatloaf and mashed potatoes.”
“One of my favorites.” He pulled her in for another hug. “You’re too good to me, Lindsey.”
She stepped back and locked eyes with him. “No, we’re good for each other.”
Lindsey dived back into the kiss, making his blood heat and ears ring. He hadn’t pushed for more, wanting to give her all the time she needed to heal, but now her lips trailed over his neck. Her hot breath against his skin sent shivers down his spine.
She nibbled his earlobe and whispered, “You know, the baby is down for a nap and dinner has another half hour in the oven. I can think of several things we could do in that time.”
“I’m up for all of them.” He swept her feet off the floor and carried her to the bedroom, closing the door behind them. He laid her down on the bed, and marveled at all that golden hair spread over the white sheets. Once they took this step, there was no going back. The sight of her made his heart thrum. Damien positioned himself beside her, and traced his hand down her face and over her shoulders. Her quick pulse fluttered against his hand when it passed over her neck. It was a wonder that he could make this beautiful woman’s heart race, just like his did.
He pulled her tightly against his body, so only clothes separated them. Her hands roamed under his shirt and over his chest, igniting fires everywhere she touched. She stood up, a
nd undressed slowly in front of him, revealing the glorious curves motherhood had added to her lovely frame. Heat seared through him, and he longed to touch her. She fell into bed with him, pressing that amazing body against his now bare chest. She drove him crazy by placing irresistible kisses over his torso, and tugged at his pants. He struggled to pull them off, wanting her with a need that had taken on a life of its own. Had there ever been a woman so soft and caring, so willing and lovely? When he couldn’t stand it any longer he flipped, so he was braced over her.
“Are you sure, Lindsey?” he whispered hoarsely.
“Yes, now Damien,” she said arching her hips toward him.
He pressed his lips against her jawline and eased back. “We should use protection.”
“You’re right. I don’t think I’m mentally prepared to lose more sleep with late night feedings.”
He chuckled. “Hang on.” He opened the nightstand drawer and pulled out a condom. “I bought these a few days ago, you know, just in case.”
He entered her slowly, gently, and she gasped with pleasure. When she moved with him, the sweetness of her shot straight through his soul. She owned the key to his heart and unlocked it piece by piece with every sigh and movement. By the time they reached the finish line, he was completely undone by her. It shook him to the core to realize just how much she’d become to him. Damien’s life would never be the same now that he’d had her. He would never stop wanting for her, and he’d never stop loving her. She held his heart. She always had, and she always would.
*
Lindsey basked in the warmth of Damien’s skin against hers. He’d finally taken her to bed and it had been more powerful than any dream or fantasy. He cuddled her close, and every so often pressed a kiss to the top of her head. If only they could stay just like this, tangled up with bodies still warm from loving, for hours, centuries.
She hoped it was the same for him, and doubt trickled in like icy tear drops. Matthew had made it loud and clear that her lack of creativity in bed was one of the reasons he strayed. She silently cursed herself for comparing the two. Damien was nothing like Matthew. Didn’t he show her how committed he was to her, every day? If she was always doubting, always second-guessing, the chance to love someone so completely wonderful might slip past her, like bending to pick up a pretty shell only to have it stolen away by a rolling wave.
“Was it okay for you?” she finally asked. If only her voice didn’t hold so many insecurities, so much self-doubt.
“Okay? Lindsey, I don’t think there’s a word to describe what that was for me.”
She smiled into his chest when he hugged her tighter. Love swamped her heart and it scared her to death. There’d never be another Damien as long as she lived. She had to seize the gift she’d been given, pick up the shell and hold on tight, for a second chance at first love rarely came twice in a lifetime. His hands circled patterns on her back, and goose bumps popped over her arms at his touch.
“Did I hurt you?” His voice was muffled in her hair. The question made her realize Damien had his own uncertainties, too.
“There was no pain. You made sure of it.” She snuggled closer and groaned when the oven timer started chirping. She started to stand and Damien pulled her over him. Her hair curtained his face, like a shower of silk. He kissed her deeply and want flamed through her.
“I like burnt meatloaf,” he said rolling on top of her. They both laughed.
“And I’d like to end this perfect night without a visit from the fire department.” She kissed his forehead, got out of bed, and pulled on some sleep pants. As she padded down the hall to the kitchen, there was an extra spring in her step, and a smile in her heart.
Chapter Twelve
Lindsey spent the afternoon sorting the letters from Damien’s father’s house. The dog snored softly beside her and Maris batted at a stuffed whale on her activity mat. Lindsey glanced up at the clock. Damien would be home from work in a few hours, and she’d be able to tell him she was finished. They’d fallen into an easy rhythm that made every day shimmer with possibility.
Lindsey woke with Damien and saw him off to work. Then, she captured the early morning light sparkling over the water with her brushes and paints. When Maris began to stir, she put the project aside and took the baby and Daisy for a long walk on the beach, after they had breakfast. Damien returned home around five, and she made up dinner while he played with the baby. The simplicity of their routine was comforting. Would it always be this way? When she’d started seeing Matthew, everything had been new and fresh, and then things started to change. Small things at first, and before she could blink her eyes, Lindsey was married to a man she didn’t know at all. She had to stop comparing her experiences, but Matthew and Damien were the only real relationships she’d ever had.
She picked up the next envelope, and something about the handwriting scratched over the front prickled the hair on her arms. Lindsey tore it open carefully. Her stomach clenched when she scanned the text. She set the letter down, looked out the window for a few moments, and picked it up to reread the note. The note that changed everything for Damien.
Clyde,
I’m sorry for leaving the way I did. You had to know how bad things had gotten between us. I was suffocating. I wanted out and you never listened to a word I said—or maybe you just didn’t care. I knew you’d chase after me if I had Damien, but it still stings that you didn’t even try to fight for me. I wouldn’t be writing you now if I weren’t in dire straits. The baby’s due in a month. Your baby. I got fired from the diner, the rent needs to be paid, and medical bills are piling up. You owe me for all the grief you’ve given me, and you owe it to your daughter for being a lousy father before she’s even been born. Send cash to the address below.
-Vicky
An address was scribbled below the text. Had Damien’s father known his wife was expecting their second child, or had he died thinking he had only a son? Ice coiled in Lindsey’s stomach. What kind of mother left her son, and didn’t even ask about his well-being? Her heart ached for Damien—the boy and the man. How would he feel when he read his mother’s words? When his mother left him, Damien had sealed his heart off. He’d been so deeply hurt that he still felt unworthy of love. He didn’t have any other close family members to share the pain with, or to lean against—until now. Somewhere out there Damien had a sister.
When Lindsey heard tires crunching over the driveway through an open window, she glanced back at the clock. How much time had she spent reading the letter over and over again? She nibbled at her lower lip. How would he react when he read the letter? Perhaps she could save him from reading those painful words, while still finding out who his sister was and where she lived. She forced her shoulders to relax. He deserved to know the truth, even if it hurt.
Damien walked through the front door, greeted them, and went to put down his things.
“Is something wrong?” A crease formed between his brows the moment he rounded the corner.
“Damien, come sit down.” She patted the couch cushion next to her. If only she could shield him from this.
He arched his eyebrow. “Nothing good has ever come after those words.” Damien sat.
“There’s something you need to read.” She handed him the letter, then tasted blood—she’d chewed her lip raw.
There was a tremor in his hands when he unfolded the sheet of paper. His brows snapped together as he scanned the text. It seemed like an eternity for him to put down the letter and speak.
“She was pregnant when she left. How could she leave us like that?” Damien’s body was stiff as a board.
Lindsey squeezed his knee gently trying to comfort. “I didn’t want to show you, but that wouldn’t have been right. It’s from a Boston address. It might be a long shot that your sister still lives there, but I have a friend from college who started her own Boston-based private investigating firm. She’s very good from what I’ve heard. Let me call her, Damien, and we can start searching for her right aw
ay. If your mother left when you were about six, your sister would be in her very early twenties—maybe a college student, or just getting out into the workforce.”
Damien raised one slash of brow. “Searching for her? I don’t want to meet the person my mother chose to love over me. Even if I did, she could be just like my mother—selfish and cold.”
“Damien, this is your sister. Your blood relative. How could you move forward with your life, knowing you had a sibling out there?” Lindsey tried to level out her tone. This was his sister. How could he turn his back to her?
“And run the risk of coming face-to-face with my mother again? No thanks.” He handed the letter back to her. “You can put it through the shredder, with the other junk.”
“Damien, I know this is your choice, but think it through. What if your mother left your sister, just like she did to you, and she’s all alone without any family? You didn’t have a mother growing up, but she didn’t have a father. You each got half. Maybe she’d be able to offer you some closure.”
Damien swiped his hands over his face. His jaw was set in a hard line. “I’ve thought it through, Lindsey, and the answer is no. I don’t want to find her. I don’t want to know who she is. Just leave it alone.” Damien was standing now. The grief and angst rolled off him like a tidal wave. She couldn’t leave it alone. How could she make him understand that his sister might be the missing puzzle piece to help him click his past into place?
“What if she’s sweet and kind? Someone you’d grow to love? Damien, you could have a wonderful family member out there, and you’re brushing her aside. What if she needs you, too?” Lindsey stood up and faced him head-on.
“Your outlook is much different than mine, Lindsey, because you had a perfect childhood with parents who loved you unconditionally. It was all sunshine and rainbows for you. Not me. I know what she could be like. I can’t handle the disappointment.”
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