This was the third time this week he’d started talking about his parents’ relationship. The other times, he’d abruptly changed the subject to something easier when she’d asked a question, and she’d let him.
This time, she was going to make him finish. So instead of prodding him along, she stayed quiet.
Hell, they still had hours to go in the drive. He could be as quiet as he wanted.
He drove for a few miles before he started up again, his words coming out like staccato gunfire, short and brisk.
“She loved him. In the beginning. That’s what she always told me. He wasn’t a bad man. I didn’t see it, but that’s what she always said. From as far back as I could remember, he hit her. And she just took it. I never understood. My mother, this woman that was take no prisoners, in charge of everything around her, and ruled with an iron fist, just took it. Because he could be a good man, she said. He wasn’t a good man,” he said again. “He never was when I knew him and he probably still isn’t.”
Beth’s head turned in his direction. From the way he talked, she’d always assumed his father was dead.
“How long has it been since you’ve seen him?” she asked quietly.
“Twenty-five years,” he said with a shrug. “I was six or seven when she finally kicked him out and didn’t let him come back. Things were better after that. My mama is a strong woman, but that man tried to make her nothing. I’ve got no respect for a man that tries to pull a woman down just because he thinks he’s stronger.”
“Yeah,” she agreed, thinking about her boss groping her. She’d been coming out of the staff locker room of the ship’s gym when he’d cornered her. He’d pushed her into a corner, quite literally, his chest and pelvis pressing her back until she was sandwiched between him and the wall. He’d reached up and yanked her top down, hard enough that the straps of her tank dug into her shoulders, the thread creaking under the pressure.
She shook her head, trying to erase the memory and let it go.
“Anyway,” Logan continued, unaware of the memories that were running through her mind. “I want kids, because I want the chance to be a better father than the one I got. I want to have kids so I can show them love and kindness, and get it in return. Simple as that.”
Simple as that, she thought.
She wanted the same thing, but for different reasons. She wanted kids because she’d been loved so deeply by her parents; she wanted the chance to do the same. She wanted to be the kind of mother she’d had: generous and warm. She wanted the chance to catch her kids sneaking in the window after curfew and show them the kind of compassion her mother had. She wanted to be like Andy, close with her children, but firm and fair.
“You’ll be a great father, Logan,” she whispered, the knot in her throat like a fist, tightening on every word.
He would be a great father, she had no doubt.
Unfortunately, he’d have to do it with someone else. He might not be sure, but she was. She wouldn’t ever have any children, her dream of motherhood nothing more than a tumbleweed, blowing across the road in front of her on a strong breeze.
In her immature youth, she’d thought she’d known everything. Seeing her mother die, watching her waste away to nothing, Beth had decided that she’d never want to go through that. She’d never want to put her children through that, make them watch her die a slow and painful death. Without much forethought, she’d had a hysterectomy. It had been relatively painless at the time, her decision cutting her chances of getting ovarian cancer down considerably.
Andy and Alex had thought she was crazy. They’d tried to talk her out of it many times, but ultimately, she’d gone ahead with it. Being sisters, they’d stuck by her. Well, Andy had. She’d stayed with her for a few days until she’d healed. Lexi had been furious. She’d railed at Beth for weeks before the procedure, accusing her of being too casual about her future. She’d even tried to talk her into freezing her eggs for the future, but Beth hadn’t listened.
Tears burned her eyes as she thought about how stupid and rash she’d been.
Now, she had nothing. She’d never carry her own children and she didn’t have any of her own eggs frozen if the need ever arose.
Logan wanted a normal family. He wasn’t going to be interested in dealing with fertility clinic bullshit when he did eventually want to have kids.
He deserved to do things the old-fashioned way. He wanted to see a woman grow heavy with his baby. He wanted to rub someone’s stomach while his baby grew inside, and that would never be her.
It could never be her.
She wanted to tell him, but after he’d just opened up about his father, it didn’t seem the right time.
Besides, they weren’t even sleeping together, let alone in a relationship. It seemed presumptuous to think something like that would matter to him at that point, so she said nothing, pushing it back down deep where it belonged.
They passed a sign on the highway and she perked up. She pointed at the next exit. “Get off here.”
“A flea market?” he asked dubiously. “You already bought a bunch of crap everywhere we’ve stopped. What could you possibly need now?”
Beth rolled her eyes. “Just stop, Doc.”
She liked to call him by his nickname. Not all the time, but once in a while when she said it, he smiled at her. Almost like hearing her say it erased some of his annoyance. A situation like this one, where he complained about stopping again, was the perfect time to use it.
“No more junk,” he insisted as he got to the end of the off-ramp. They followed the signs until they reached a large dirt parking lot.
It didn’t take long to find what she was looking for and within thirty minutes, they were loaded down with discounted camping gear.
“I can’t believe you got all this stuff for so cheap,” he marveled as they loaded it all in the trunk of the car, his arms bulging. They’d been working out together every morning. Even if it was a simple no-gym workout, they’d done it.
She’d talked the lady at the flea market down from one-hundred-and-fifty bucks to just seventy-five. They’d scored not just a four-person tent but a cooking stove, two sleeping bags, two folding chairs, a table, a couple tarps, and fishing gear.
“Now, we just need to find somewhere to camp,” she said with a laugh.
She did not want to think about the fact that ultimately, Logan wanted kids but she couldn’t have any. Every time she came back to that thought, the realization that everything he wanted in life, she couldn’t provide, she deflected it. She wiped it out and put a smile on her face. She banished it, finding the first thing in sight that would take her mind off the subject.
It was at the very root of every quick escape she’d made from him over the last year. It was the reason she ran so fast and so hard, because she knew, no matter what, she wasn’t the woman for him.
If she put on a brave face—for her that meant a flirty smile—she could push all those feelings deep down where no one could touch them. She’d keep everything on the surface.
When she’d seen the sign for the flea market right next to one for a campground, it had seemed like a sign. Instantly, she could banish those thoughts and get back to who she was.
She sent Logan a wink as she closed the lid of the trunk. “You are up for camping, aren’t you?” she asked in challenge.
“I’ve slept under the stars more nights than I can count,” he returned. “How about you, Miss Fancy Luxury Liner. Think you can hack it in the woods?”
“There’s no woods here,” she told him. “Just lots of rocks and bushes. It’ll be awfully hard to find somewhere to skinny-dip like I’m used to.”
The comment caught his attention as it was meant to.
“Skinny-dipping?” he questioned, eyeing her with open interest. “Like you’re used to? Where are you doing all this skinny-dipping?”
She laughed, liking the lighthearted banter. It was far easier than everything else, for the moment.
“If you�
�re good, I might just tell you,” she said, heading to the passenger door and sliding in. Tucker’s car was looking a little worse for wear, trash on the floors and food wrappers here and there. Beth wrinkled her nose. “First, I think we need to hit a car wash. Poor Tucker won’t want to take this car back when we’re through with it.”
Logan got behind the wheel and took the mess in. “Could be worse,” he said with a shrug. “I’ve lived with guys in closer quarters than this that were messier.”
Beth scoffed. “I’m not a guy,” she corrected. “And I’ve spent years in close quarters. The only way to make it bearable is to keep it clean. Otherwise, it’s just gross.”
“True,” he agreed. “Car wash it is. Though I don’t think it’ll do much for the outside of the car with all this dust.”
They talked for a while about the land around them, marveling at the rock faces they passed as they entered the nearest campground. They were somewhere between Santa Fe and Albuquerque, closing in on their final destination.
It had been a fun two weeks, but Beth knew their time together was coming to an end.
She was going to tell him this time. Before she left, before they called it quits for the last time, she was going to tell him why she ran and why she wasn’t the woman for him.
Her heart jerked in her chest as they rolled into their campsite and began unloading their things.
Surprisingly, the tent was in good shape and it went up easily. They worked well together, quiet and efficient, getting everything set up.
Without questioning why, when Logan was setting up their chairs and table, Beth stepped into the tent and undressed.
This was their swan song, she was sure. Even if things went well, ultimately she couldn’t provide the things he wanted in life.
That was going to have to be okay for now.
If this was all the time they had—this road trip and the Grand Canyon—she would take it. If nothing else, he’d finally seen her for who she was. She’d shown him her true self, minus one major detail, but he knew she wasn’t just the little sister of Andy Walker. She wasn’t just a traveling, free spirit.
She was an independent woman who had brains and brawn. She was a woman who liked to read and work out, though not at the same time. She was a woman who knew how to love a man deeply, even if she couldn’t tell him that.
She could show him.
When her clothes were all stripped off and she was bare, she called his name quietly.
The look on his face, when he turned his head to look at her over his shoulder, sent a hot shiver rippling from her core. While it had the ability to stroke her ego, it was instead, humbling. It wasn’t about how great she did or didn’t look, or the strength of desire that she invoked in him.
It was how deeply his desire ran when he walked toward her, a man clearly on a mission. It could have felt empowering to wield such a thing, but instead the heat in his eyes washed her with a soothing balm of comfort.
“What are you doing?” he murmured, coming into the tent and zipping it quickly behind him. “Anyone could have seen you.”
She didn’t look away from his face as his green eyes roved along her flesh. His hair was longer now, just brushing past his ears and in the last two weeks, he’d gotten a good start on a beard. It grew in brown, a nice contrast with the blond of his hair and they went together nicely.
He looked stronger somehow, his cheeks filled in and the color back in his face.
The trip had been good for him, she knew. It might kill her in the end, but it would be worth it for him to look so healthy at the end.
“Take off your clothes,” she whispered.
He shook his head. “Beth, it’s the middle of the damn day. There are people around.”
She shook her head. “There’s no one in any of the campsites around us. I don’t care if it’s the middle of the day. I need you, Logan.”
Her quietly spoken words, coming out like a plea, struck their mark. Logan grabbed a handful of his shirt behind his head and flung it off to the side. With quick fingers, he unbuttoned his jeans but hesitated in pulling them off.
“Let me see you,” she implored. “All of you. Please.”
She needed to see him. He needed to let go of his worry over his leg and how other people were going to see it.
He hesitated only another second before finally sliding them down his hips. He was leaner than he used to be, but still firm and hard in all the right places. She eyed him hungrily, not caring if he saw how deep her desire for him ran.
When his pants caught on his prosthetic, she could see the frustration on his face. Without hesitation, she went to her knees before him. She wrapped her hands around his thigh and she slid them down, taking his pants along with them. He stepped out of them when she instructed him to lift his feet, one at a time, and she threw the pants aside, looking up at him from her place on the floor.
“I feel ridiculous,” he said, his honesty cracking her heart open wide. His erection, just a moment ago harder than steel, now softening before her eyes.
She looked up at him, her eyes meeting his as she rubbed her hands up and down his legs. Sometimes she touched the prosthetic, even though he couldn’t feel it. Sometimes she kept her hands on his skin.
“You’re the sexiest man I’ve ever seen,” she admitted.
He let out a humorless laugh, his lips turned down in a grimace. “Sure.”
She raised up to her knees and rubbed her face on him, her forehead gliding along his hip as she nuzzled his body. It wasn’t necessity about his dick or sex, but he needed to feel her, skin to skin and he let her do it, his fingers finally finding their way to her hair and tunneling against her scalp. She caressed him with her hands and face, just letting the constant contact bring him back into the moment.
Her breasts rubbed against his legs, the prosthetic not nearly as cold as she thought it would be. He seemed less bothered as the minutes ticked by, his inhibitions falling away the more turned-on he got.
She wanted him in her mouth, but didn’t want to rush him either. It was important to her that she take her time. Much like the trip itself, if it was the only time she was going to get with him, she was going to savor it.
“Beth,” he muttered on a gasp as she nibbled the thin skin of his hip.
“Hmm,” she hummed, her hands roaming up to his chest and back down again. This time, she grabbed him and gave him a long stroke.
His hands tightened on her head, his hips thrusting forward. She took the invitation and wrapped her lips around him, savoring everything she had missed about him in the last months and everything they’d worked up to in the last few weeks.
This was their sweet spot. This they were good at, and it felt more intimate than ever before.
He swept his hands together, gathering her hair into a makeshift ponytail, and thrust into her mouth. Not hard, not enough to be considered rough, but she knew what he wanted. She increased her speed and pressure, letting him feel her tongue working the underside of him.
He let out a growled moan and Beth slid her mouth off and tipped her head back.
“Take the leg off,” she told him, darting her tongue out and lashing his tip.
“For what?”
“Take it off or I put my clothes back on,” she told him brazenly.
“I don’t like ultimatums,” he argued, while reaching down to peel off the silicone and remove the leg, using her shoulders for balance.
It was hard to find the words to express to him that she loved him with or without his real leg. She couldn’t say the words out loud, they’d do nothing for them but cause pain, but she could show him. She could take the leg out of the equation and show him that it made no difference in how they came together.
“I just want you, Logan. I want you with me. Here and now. This,” she said, pointing at the leg, “is just physical. It has nothing to do with what we’re doing here.”
It was so true, it almost didn’t make any sense. Of course, making lo
ve was a physical act. At its very core, it was corporal and of the flesh.
But what they were doing went far beyond just physicality, and the moment the words came out of her mouth, she knew he understood. This was no lusty frenzy as they’d experienced before.
This was soul-searing stares and uncharted intimacy. They didn’t need pieces and parts of their bodies, they just needed themselves. Wholly and fully present with each other and nothing more.
Logan shook his head. “I can’t do this again, Sugar. I can’t get in so deep with you that I can’t dig my way out.”
“I’m right here with you,” she admitted, taking his hand and pulling him down with her.
He came over her, his prosthetic forgotten off to the side as he covered her with his body.
“I want you,” he said, his voice husky. “I want us. This last two weeks…” he let the thought trail off.
The last two weeks had been eye-opening. They’d gotten to know each other, and Beth was certain now that she loved this man, not because their chemistry told her, but because she knew him.
“Me too,” she whispered, pulling him so their lips met. His skin was hot against hers, April’s low rolling heat warming their bodies.
There wasn’t a long bout of foreplay, their contact during the trip enough of a lead-in, that when he finally pressed himself inside her, Beth grasped at his shoulders. He was hot and steely, her insides gripping him and welcoming him home.
He stilled, his hips pressed tightly against hers, and raised himself up on his hands. Looking down at her, he pressed again, watching her reaction as the contact sent a zing of fire through her belly.
Pleased, he did it again, his lips tipping up in satisfaction. By the fifth or sixth time, she was nearly tipping over the edge into oblivion. Logan, for his part, didn’t seem to be having any problems physically working around his missing leg, his hips slowly thrusting against hers.
When he lowered himself and pressed his face into her neck, their bodies touching from head to toe, she let go, her arms wrapped around him, holding him as close as she could. Within moments, he was trying to pull away, ready to finish.
Confessing History (Freehope Book 3) Page 12