Confessing History (Freehope Book 3)

by Jenni M. Rose

  “Sneaky ninja,” she said with a fond smile.

  “Stinky ninja,” he replied, pressing a soft kiss to the back of her neck. “I’m surprised you didn’t smell me coming.”

  It was true, after three or four days camping, they weren’t at their freshest. While they’d showered here and there, their clothes should probably be burned at the end of their trip. She had more clothes to choose from, having her luggage from the cruise ship, but most of them weren’t appropriate road-trip attire.

  “I wouldn’t be able to smell you over the smell of myself,” she shot back.

  His nose rubbed the delicate skin behind her ear.

  “I think you smell like the fuzzy skin on a peach,” he drawled in a whisper, his hands squeezing her closer until her back was pressed against his chest. She felt his tongue drag up the side of her neck, hot and wet. “Taste like it, too.”

  She reached behind her and held him by the back of his neck, holding him close. Like this, they were in their own world, their problems far away and insignificant, the fact that she could never bear his children or give him a family somewhere off in the distance where he couldn’t reach it.

  For Beth, it was something she’d been living with for more than a year.

  She hadn’t been immune to the chemistry of their first meeting, as she had acted. She’d been changed by him from the first time their eyes had met.

  But she’d had to admit, even if only to herself and her sisters, that some things weren’t meant to be. A man that desperately wanted a family was not destined to be with a woman that was purposefully barren.

  It didn’t matter that it was still daylight or that the campground was teeming with other campers. They still zipped themselves inside the tent and made slow, deep love.

  Not the kind where clothes come off in a frenetic desperation but the kind where they watched each other. The kind where Beth opened herself to him in a way she never had before. He looked at her then and she showed him her soul, everything that she was holding inside and she hoped, the depth of her love for him.

  It would be too painful to tell him how much she loved him now. Too painful to tell him and walk away, which is what she’d do in a day or two when the trip ended and they went their separate ways.

  She could see the confidence in his steps now compared to where he’d been just a few weeks ago. There was a straightening of his spine, a swagger in his hips—that he’d taken back as his own—that she hadn’t seen since Andy’s wedding last year. He’d find his way, she had no doubt.

  Holding him in her arms, his skin slick with sweat, her body clutching his inside her, she tried not to think about where her path might lead her.

  Their epic road-trip may have put Logan back on the path he wanted to be on, but she’d lost sight of hers.

  Beth had been quiet since the canyon. Not an angry or sullen quiet like he’d seen on her before, but something completely different.

  They’d set up camp as usual but with far less banter between them, a contemplative look in her eye. She was lost inside of herself. He knew, because he’d been in that same place for months, living in a world he wasn’t sure he belonged in.

  The second she’d made her confession, her words pouring over the ridge and then coming back to settle in his ears, a wave of guilt and shame hit him, hard and fast.

  She couldn’t have kids. It was sad, because he’d love nothing more than to see tiny little Beth Walkers running roughshod over a home he’d built for them, but it wasn’t an end-all statement.

  There were other ways for people to become parents without physically having the children themselves. He thought of his cousin Elliot Williams, adopted at the age of ten or twelve into a happy and loving family.

  There were other ways and he was sure, if they tried, they could find them.

  The guilt and shame he felt came when he thought about all the times he’d told her about the family he wanted in the future. How she must have felt when he expounded about how many kids he wanted, or imagining aloud what she’d look like pregnant.

  He could have been more sensitive, though there was no way he could have known.

  But he’d be damned if he didn’t connect the dots the second her words registered in his brain. It was like hearing them made everything click into place.

  No wonder she ran every time they got an inch closer to being something to each other. Because she knew he wanted something she didn’t think she could give him.

  He’d spent the last few hours trying to show her that whatever was going on with her physically wasn’t the be-all, end-all for them. He was confident that they could figure it out. As long as they did it together, he was ready to move forward.

  They’d closed themselves off in the tent for the night, making an early night of it. The red, glowing dusk turned to twilight through the mesh window overhead and he laid on his back, his arm around her.

  Beth’s head rested on his shoulder, her fingers absently toying with the hair on his chest.

  His prosthetic, the one that just weeks ago he was so afraid for her to see, rested forgotten with their clothes. It wasn’t needed right now and because of Beth, he’d learned that it didn’t change how she saw him.

  He was beginning to think that it didn’t change how he saw himself either, and that felt like an immense hurdle to have jumped.

  “Do you want to talk about it?” he asked, his voice soft in their little cocoon.

  He felt her head shake, but she said nothing.

  He couldn’t imagine that she wanted to talk about it. She had never mentioned it before, so he was sure she didn’t want to start now, but they were past that. She’d pulled him from the depths when he was in his downward spiral and now, if he had to, he’d do the same for her.

  When he really thought about, their situations weren’t that different.

  “It doesn’t change anything, you know?” he said. “You’re still you and I’m still me. What we have, this thing between us, it’s still exactly the same.”

  Her cheeks shifted and even if he couldn’t see her, he knew she was smiling. It didn’t ease his mind. He’d seen Beth smile through angry tears and heartbreaking sadness. He’d seen her smile through an outright lie and while making a devious plan to jump out of a closet to scare her brother. He’d come to realize that a smile, wasn’t always so simple where Beth was concerned.

  It was one of the things he loved about her. He loved that she could show such an immense range of emotions with just one gesture.

  Her confession, screamed with such agony, her strong hand fisted at her chest, changed nothing for him.

  “I did it on purpose.”

  Her whispered words were nearly inaudible they were so quiet. He might have mistaken them for the rustle of plants outside had he not felt her breath across his skin.

  “You did what, Sugar?”

  “I had a hysterectomy.”

  Like a bucket of ice water, he felt her words freeze his heart in his chest. Had he mistaken her revelation at the canyon as something it wasn’t?

  He’d seen a pain in her eyes in that moment and assumed it to be sadness for what she couldn’t have. He’d thought she felt the loss of not being able to bear children, because she wanted to but wasn’t able.

  But to have a hysterectomy meant she did it on purpose. It wasn’t a decision a woman made lightly without knowing the long-term consequences, and Beth had done it anyway.

  If she didn’t want to bear her own children, she didn’t want to adopt them either. She didn’t want to foster a child who needed loving parents.

  She didn’t want to be a parent.

  That realization hit him like a cannonball to the chest and it took him a moment to breathe through it. Was that something he could live with? Would he let his dream of being a great father go, so he could keep Beth with him, where she belonged?

  He knew he would. He wanted her in a way that was indescribable. It went beyond longing or wanting, the words benign in compa
rison to what he felt.

  Incomplete, was what he was without her. Just the shell of who he wanted to be and could be with Beth by his side.

  He’d just have to live that life without fulfilling his need for fathering children.

  His silence was thunderous as they lay, still in each other’s arms. For how many times he’d told her that he wanted to be a father, she’d just thrown in the ultimate monkey wrench.

  She was sure he was coming to the same conclusion that she had.

  They could not be.

  She could not give him what he so desperately wanted in life and she knew it. Now he knew it too.

  9

  The ringing of Logan’s cell phone woke them both the following morning.

  They’d spent the night in each other’s arms, making love on and off as though their lives depended on it. They were mostly silent, the words between them hushed and urgent. They hadn’t discussed their confessions further, letting the subject go and focusing on each other.

  Beth slapped around, trying to find the source of the ringing. She grabbed a handful of what felt like khaki and threw it onto Logan’s chest. It landed with a thud and he let out a muffled oof, a chuckle escaping his lips.

  “Good morning to you, too,” he said. After another second, he answered his phone and it blessedly stopped ringing.

  “Hi Mama.” The words were almost crooned, his accent turning on like the flip of a switch.

  It took Beth a second to notice that she’d barely detected his accent their entire trip. He used to have a drawl, noticeable and entirely too sexy for his own good. Since they’d hit the road, besides one or two times, she hadn’t heard it.

  It was an interesting tidbit and she held it close, wondering why. Now that she was awake, she laid her head on her arm and watched him talk to his mother, their conversation flowing easily.

  He told her about the stops they’d made in the last week or so, ending on the canyon. He didn’t mention their experience at Echo Canyon, though what would he say about it if he had? He asked how she was and listened, the corners of his eyes crinkling.

  His love for his mother was something she admired about him. He’d told her a little bit about how he’d wanted to step up and be the man of the house after his father had been kicked out. He talked about his mother with reverence, like he was equal parts terrified of her and in awe.

  The hand not holding the phone absently rubbed circles on her thigh under the blanket, but he otherwise paid her no mind, spending the time talking to his mother.

  Not wanting to intrude, she rolled over and grabbed her own clothes, getting dressed quickly, and leaving the tent. She zipped the door closed, opting to give him some privacy.

  Come to think of it, she could use a moment to herself, as well. Last night, she’d promised herself that it would be their last night together and she was going to stick to that.

  When he finished talking to his mother, she was going to tell him it was time for her to go. He could drive Tucker’s car back if he wanted more time on the road on his own. If he didn’t, he could fly and she’d drive the car back. Either way, that had been it for them.

  A lump the size of her fist lodged in her throat and tears gathered at the corners of her eyes, scalding as they fell down her cheeks. Annoyed with herself, she swiped angrily at them and cleared her throat, hoping to make the entire situation disappear. She held a hand to her forehead when it didn’t pass as easily as she wanted it to, and she stared hard at the rising sun.

  It took nearly a minute of meditative breathing before she could look away and know she wasn’t going to break down. This was what would be best for them both. She knew that and now, after last night, he knew it too.

  The moment she’d told him about the hysterectomy, he’d stopped asking questions.

  Yes, it was that permanent. When she said she couldn’t have kids, it wasn’t something she said just because she’d never gotten pregnant before. It was part of who she was and something she’d done on purpose.

  There was no getting around that.

  She tinkered around the campsite for a few minutes, cleaning things up and putting them away if she didn’t think they were going to be used before they left. While she worked, she unwrapped a protein bar and called it breakfast. It tasted like nothing, her tongue not willing to enjoy anything but the taste of Logan Hallowell.

  She suspected things might be like that for a while. The world might lose its color while she tried to get back on her feet.

  She ate anyway, knowing she needed the calories to keep going. She planned to go for a run before grabbing a shower. After that, one of them would be taking the car and leaving and the other would be heading to the airport.

  “There you are,” Logan said, coming around the corner as she made a trip to the trash can. He looked sexy as sin, his blond hair disheveled and wearing nothing more than a smile and his khaki shorts. They were low enough on his hips that she could tell he had nothing underneath and it was work to look away. His muscle definition was coming back quickly and she guessed it had been hiding just underneath the surface. His prosthetic stuck out from the left leg of his shorts, a thick metal rod with a shoe attached to the bottom.

  “Here I am,” she said, her heart clenching when their eyes met.

  There was an excitement in his gaze she hadn’t anticipated. She’d thought after the night they’d had, he would be on the same page with her. Calling it quits seemed the wisest choice.

  “What?” she asked warily, still noting the look he was sending her.

  “Mama wants us to come to New Orleans.”

  “Us?”

  He took the few steps to her and put his hands on her shoulders.

  “You and me, Sugar. We’re not too far. Could probably make it in a day or two.”

  Beth shook her head. “I don’t know,” she began.

  “Just a few more days,” he said, his voice cajoling as he smiled from behind his thickening beard. “Then we can head back.”

  We wouldn’t be heading anywhere, she thought. She’d let him drop her at the airport in New Orleans, and he could visit his mother.

  Things had not gone how she’d planned at all. Instead of giving her space, Logan had only gotten closer. He’d taken the lead with driving, leaving the Grand Canyon behind and their bittersweet moments with it.

  They spent two long days in the car together but the night in between they splurged on a nice hotel room in Texas. Despite what she knew was a bad idea, the spent the entire time naked and intertwined.

  They stayed away from difficult talking points, her health and his leg among them, as well as the future. Instead, they exchanged books, giving each other a chance to see what they liked to read. They worked out in the hotel again, Beth enjoying their morning partner workouts more than she did her regular ones.

  Logan was starting to hold his own, as well, trusting himself and what his body could do even more. That morning in the hotel, he’d done his first barbell squat, trusting his leg to lift him and using muscles he’d been ignoring.

  Beth let him drive both days without complaint, happy for him to exert his competence behind the wheel. Nearly two full days later, they drove into New Orleans, and her eyes widened as he drove expertly through the city.

  “Your mom lives in New Orleans, New Orleans? I thought you meant she lived near here,” Beth said, watching the city as it began lighting up for the evening while they drove through.

  “We lived in Luling when I was a kid,” he explained. “After I moved out and then Katrina hit, Mama wanted to be in the city. She always liked it here. She fits right in.”

  “What does that mean?” Beth asked, curious.

  “She’s got a bit of an eccentric streak to her,” he hedged. “She likes the history and magic of the city.”

  “And voodoo?” Beth prompted, remembering some of the Williams brothers’ comments regarding Logan’s mother.

  He scoffed. “She’s not into voodoo. She’s a culturis
t.” The word sounded made up to Beth and she called him on it.

  “She just appreciates all the cultures that come together to make New Orleans what it is, that’s all. She likes to be French and Southern at the same time. She likes her Caribbean roots, even if she didn’t come by them naturally.” His drawl was noticeable again.

  Beth raised a brow. “Does she fall in and out of her accent like you do, or is hers more permanent?”

  He shot her a glance as he turned off the main road and onto a quieter side street.

  “I talked myself out of the accent the farther away from home I got,” he explained. “I just mimicked Owen for a long time, trying to get rid of it.”

  It seemed the wrong time to tell him that she thought the accent was sexy. She was sure he already knew, but with one foot out the door, admitting aloud to him seemed like playing with fire.

  The pulled up to a small little bungalow, tucked into a neighborhood just off the busy road. The houses in the neighborhood looked similar, small and well-kept. No yard to speak of, but there were plenty of hanging plants and decorations outside to make it clear that Logan’s mom liked to make things her own.

  “Home sweet home,” he said quietly as he put the car in park and took the keys out of the ignition. He didn’t get out though, just sat with her as she looked nervously up at the house.

  She suddenly got the overwhelming feeling that she shouldn’t have made this part of the trip with him. Meeting his mother, seeing his home, it was all too personal, especially when she knew they were headed nowhere.

  “No pressure, Sugar,” he murmured as the light on the porch flicked on and the screen door screeched open. “Just stopping in to say hi and then we’ll be on our way.”

  Then she’d be on her way, she wanted to correct but didn’t. Instead, she just nodded as a woman, nearly as tall as Logan’s six-foot-two height, strode out onto the porch.

  “Is that you, baby?” she called excitedly. “Come on in!”

  She was waving them in madly and Beth could see the white of Logan’s teeth in the dark as he smiled happily.