Limitless Love: A Lotus House Novel: Book Four

by Audrey Carlan

  I ignored her ramble and picked up my fork, cutting into a golf-ball-sized meatball. Steam puffed out of the center, sending a burst of garlic and oregano to my eager senses. I took a bite and moaned around the perfectly seasoned meat. It was soft, hot, and spiced to perfection.

  “And he can cook. Let’s not forget that little tidbit, not that I could.”

  Thoughtfully, I chewed and sampled several bites. “You are not wrong. The man can cook. But why is he here? I don’t get it.”

  Mila raised her face to the sky. “Lord, please tell me my best friend isn’t this dumb. Did you give her all the book smarts and none of the common-sense smarts?” She waited a moment, staring at the white expanse of the ceiling. “Nothing? You’re telling me nothing. Fine.” Mila sighed and pursed her lips, focusing on me. “Moe, when a man likes a girl, he does things for said girl. Like watch her kid, take care of her, cook her and her bestie dinner.”

  I pointed the fork at her. “I get where you’re going with this, but frankly, it doesn’t make sense. Last year he hit on me and then…poof…disappeared into thin air. And from what I heard from the gals at Lotus House, he’s a bit of a player. I don’t need that in my life. Lily doesn’t need that in her life. And besides, now look at me.” I bit down on my lip, not wanting to remember how Kyle had damaged me this time. As if leaving me brokenhearted and my daughter fatherless wasn’t enough.

  “I am looking at you. What are you trying to say?”

  “Don’t you see? Even after I heal, I’m always going to be scarred, always going to have an ex who tried to kill me and didn’t want the daughter we created. I’m always going to be lacking. If it’s not this new problem, it will be something else.”

  “Lily’s father is a sperm donor. Let’s not forget that.”

  “You’re missing the point, Mila.” I set the fork down and placed my shaky hands on my thighs, bracing through the pain and the devastation that rushed to the surface once more.

  Mila eased over to me on the couch and grabbed my hand. “I do understand. But I’m here to tell you, you’re going to be fine. The stitches are going to come out, the cops are going to get that rat bastard, and life will go on. Who’s to say that life can’t go on with a sexy fitness trainer type on the sidelines ready to be tagged in for the game of his life?”

  I laughed and brought her hands up to my lips and kissed the back of each. “You’re a good friend. Delusional, but the greatest.”

  “Well, yeah, I’m the bestest. Ask Lily, she’ll tell you.” She grinned, and I smiled in return.

  Clayton walked back in holding a second steaming plate and set it on the table in front of Mila. “Soup’s on for you,” he said to Mila.

  “If you don’t keep him, can I have him?” Mila whispered, picking up her plate and practically drooling at the feast in front of her eyes.

  The abrupt chuckle spilled from my lips, stopping Clayton on his trek back into the kitchen. He placed his large, warm hand on the ball of my good shoulder and squeezed. “Like hearing that, beautiful.”

  I closed my eyes and let that small touch sink in just enough to keep my strength up. When I was alone in my bed, I’d let it go, knowing that regardless of what was happening right now, it would all change. Eventually, he’d see I was no longer the catch he thought I was. Like last year, he’d up and leave the same way Kyle did, and then where would I be?

  Where would Lily be?

  No, it wasn’t a good idea to go handing my heart to every sweet guy who lent me a hand.

  Soon, Clayton would realize I wasn’t worth the effort, and he’d back off. If I had to guess, under all his bravado was a gentle soul, one who wanted to take care of women, especially ones who’d been hurt. Probably in his genetic makeup, because even though I’d heard he dated a lot of women, I’d not heard that he’d been careless or hurtful to them.

  We ate for a solid fifteen minutes until a wave of nausea and fatigue swept over me. Clayton entered just as I swayed, my body losing its battle with exhaustion.

  “Whoa, whoa, hey there. You all right?”

  I blinked a few times and shook my head. “Tired. So tired.”

  “Let’s get you to your room. Mila, can you help her with a sponge bath? I’ll change her bandages.” He took charge as if it was his duty as well as his right. I didn’t have the strength or desire to argue.

  Mila’s eyes widened, and she put her plate down, wiped her hands over her thighs, and stood. “Yes, sir.”

  Dazed, I was led into the bathroom, where Clayton helped me get settled on the cushy stool tucked under the bathroom vanity. He made sure I was situated and turned on the water in the sink, testing it every few seconds until it was the right temperature. While the sink was filling, he moved through the bathroom as if he’d been doing so forever, opening and closing the cupboards until he found a washrag. The man was so capable. I could have told him where everything was, but my meds were finally kicking in. With the addition of a belly full of protein and carbs… I needed sleep, real sleep. The kind I could only get in my bed after such a horrendous experience.

  Mila entered the bathroom and set a dark-purple pajama tank and a matching pair of skimpy silk shorts on the vanity. I wanted to groan at the choice she’d made but realized she hadn’t chosen those to mess with me or make me look sexy for Clayton. They needed access to my wounds, and this would be the best option for frequent bandage changes.

  “Okay, I’ll step out while you wash her. Don’t get the stitches wet. If you’re uncomfortable, I can wash around them. Got it?” He addressed my best friend as if she was his soldier, not our friend.

  Mila quietly nodded and submerged the cloth a few times in the soapy water. Clayton shut the door to give us privacy.

  “Thank you for your help. I’m sure the last thing you want to be doing is giving your friend a bath.” I frowned and lifted my good arm, which she took into her capable hand.

  With precise, careful movements, Mila hummed and took to the task of cleansing me. I washed my privates and then eased into the panties and silk shorts with her help.

  “What about the back?” Her voice shook and her eyes filled with tears. I held my hair over one shoulder.

  I watched her reflection in the mirror as her gaze ran over every vile inch of the unbandaged surface of my once-flawless skin. She started at the top of my shoulder blade and then moved slowly down to my hip. Mila’s entire body trembled as she half choked, half hiccupped. I watched her break in half in front of my eyes, her sorrow at what happened becoming too much for her. That’s when she dropped the cloth in the sink, hovered over the vanity, both hands gripping the edge, and sobbed, her shoulders shaking mightily with the effort.

  “I’m sorry.” I clenched my teeth and let the emotional pain shred my insides until I could get my voice in check. “I’m okay. Really, I am.” I wanted to sound confident and strong, but my words sounded weak and tired.

  “No, Moe, you’re not.” Mila wiped at her eyes with both hands, grabbed a tissue, and blew her nose.

  I clenched my hand into fists and tried to hold on to my composure. “No, but I will be.”

  More than anything, I hoped it was the truth.

  Chapter Four

  The heart chakra is where the physical and spiritual meet. It’s located at the center of the chest and includes the heart, cardiac plexus, thymus gland, lungs, and breasts. It also rules the lymphatic system.

  CLAYTON

  The second I heard the gut-wrenching sob echo through Monet’s partially open bathroom door, I’d had enough of being separated. I couldn’t say what catapulted me in there or what was keeping me in this house with this woman. All I knew was wild horses couldn’t make me leave.

  I had to be here.

  Had to.

  She needed me.

  Slowly I opened the door, trying to remain as calm and collected as possible. Directly across from me, Monet clutched a towel to her bare torso with one hand. Her other hand was on Mila’s back, soothing her. Of course sh
e’d be comforting everyone else. Making sure the people who loved her were taken care of first.

  Selfless.

  The woman was so goddamned selfless. I’d never met a person quite like her, and the knowledge, the crushing intensity that I probably never would again, blasted me from the tips of my toes to the top of my spiky hair. I ground my teeth and patted Mila’s shoulder.

  “I’m sorry, honey. I’m okay. Really, I am,” Monet cooed soft as a whisper to her friend.

  “No, Moe, you’re not.” Her tone was hard and unrelenting.

  Monet lifted her head and her coal-black eyes found mine. In that one look I gave her what I could. Friendship. Hope. Determination. I could have sworn those eyes answered back with gratitude.

  Without wavering from my gaze she answered her friend. “No, but I will be.”

  Damn straight, I wanted to say but didn’t. This situation was going nowhere fast, and my woman needed to sleep.

  My woman.

  Where the fuck that thought came from I didn’t know. Everything about Monet called to me on a primal level. The need—no, freaking desperate desire—to help her and take care of her, wound around my chest like a vise and locked down. At that moment, I shoved it back into the recesses of my mind where I could bat at it later, when I could figure out why my feelings for this woman were so strong and sudden. Christ. I knew I had liked everything about her last year, but seeing her again, meeting her kid, spending time with this family… It was screwing with my head. Making me want things I didn’t know were possible so soon. And that was the problem. It was all too soon. Too fast. I needed to cool my jets and take it easy with her.

  Still, she needed to be fixed up, and I was the best person for the job. At least I kept telling myself that. “I’ve got her. Go on and take care of Lily,” I suggested.

  Mila sniffed, grabbed a tissue from the box, wiped her nose, and nodded. I led Monet back to the vanity, centered the stool in the middle of the large bathroom, and pointed at it. “Sit.”

  Her bare feet and mile-long legs moved elegantly in front of me. When she sat and I was sure she wouldn’t fall off the chair, I grabbed the washcloth Mila had abandoned, sopped up some suds, and wrung it out. Then I went to Monet’s back.

  A long, somewhat jagged line scaled to the right of the sacral dimples near her lower back and trim waist all the way up her right side, curving crookedly at the very wing of her shoulder blade. Making a point not to wince—the last thing she needed to see right now—I ran the edge of the washcloth along the puffed-up skin and near the black sutures to clear the povidone the medical team had used.

  Fire licked at the frayed edges of my nerves as I silently cleaned the length of her back. Monet sat ramrod straight and didn’t so much as flinch. That courage and determination showed the strength of her character. Though, with enough adversity, even the strongest could fall. Eventually, the reality of what happened to her would fester like an open wound and drive her to a rocky edge. I wanted to be the one to catch her when she fell. Would she let me?

  “How are you feeling?” I asked.

  She sighed, her shoulders sinking with each pass of the cloth. “Fine.”

  I waited, knowing that her mind was probably working a mile a minute—or shutting down.

  “No, that isn’t right.” Her voice cracked and rose with her ire. “I’m not fine. I’m tired. Bone tired. Weary. And so angry. Angry at Kyle and at myself.”

  I flinched and clenched my teeth, trying to take the edge off my frustration. “At yourself? You had nothing to do with this man’s actions. You cannot take on that blame.”

  Monet shook her head and cringed as I dabbed lightly at what looked like a tender spot. Gooseflesh popped up all over her skin, and I wanted nothing more than to kiss every inch of her exposed back and neck. My instinct was to show her affection, ease her mind and body. Warm her up. Even after being attacked, with abrasions and scratches all over her olive skin, her hair tangled and dirty, she was still the most gorgeous woman I’d ever had the pleasure of looking at.

  Her back was long, lean, and arched seductively. Her toned legs curved deliciously in the right places. An image of those limbs wrapped high around my hips as I pounded into her from above skittered across my mind—an unwanted but not unpleasant image.

  Shit, Clay. Get your mind out of the gutter. The woman needed me to be there for her, not fantasize about her in the sack.

  “But I can’t help it,” she continued. “I’m the one who married him. I’m the one he cheated on and left.” She twined her fingers around one another in a nervous gesture.

  I scoffed on a growl. She honest to God blamed herself. Had some kind of twisted rationale flapping around in her head that it was her fault. I groaned. She couldn’t possibly believe she was unworthy of a good man. The concept of any man leaving this gorgeous woman and her adorable child did not seem anywhere near the realm of reality.

  “Yeah.” She blew out a fast breath through her lips. “And you know who he chose to cheat with and leave me for?”

  Physically I braced, knowing that whatever she said was going to piss me off beyond compare. “Who?”

  She lifted her face and met my gaze in the mirror. Her eyes were glassy saucers of hurt and pain. “My baby sister. The black sheep and soil on my family’s good name. And I haven’t spoken to her since.” Her lip trembled, and I wanted so badly to kiss away that wound, give her something better to look forward to.

  Jeez-us. Her douche ex-husband had left her for her sister. Proved the man was indeed insane. I considered myself a good judge of character and I knew a solid and beautiful woman when I saw one. Monet Holland was that and more. The whole enchilada.

  “And Lily? He doesn’t see his daughter?” A protective spur tightened the muscles of my free hand. I tried to loosen my fist, but the biting anger over a man leaving his child filled me with disgust. When I thought I was going to be a father, I couldn’t have been happier. My buddy Trent lost his mind over Viv being pregnant with his baby, in a good way. Atlas just found out about his impending fatherhood, and he couldn’t take his hands or eyes off his woman’s stomach. The right man would feel pride in his young.

  Monet shook her head. “That’s just it. We couldn’t conceive naturally. We tried for two years, and it never happened. Then finally, I got him to agree to get checked out. Turned out his swimmers were few and far between.”

  “Okay…but it obviously worked because I’ve been hanging out with the queen for two days.” I waggled my eyebrows dramatically in an attempt to lighten the heaviness of our chat.

  Monet smiled at my nickname for Lily. Technically it was a nickname the little one had given herself.

  “Yes, but Lily is a product of a sperm bank and me. At the time it seemed like the best option. Once Lily was born, Kyle didn’t want anything to do with her. He rarely held her, never did any of the normal things fathers do, like rock her to sleep, change her diapers, or feed her. By the time she turned a year old, he hardly looked at her.”

  I closed my eyes and placed one hand at the nape of Monet’s neck. “I’m sorry. There aren’t words that can describe the level of revulsion I have for your ex.”

  “Get in line.” She chuckled.

  That small laugh filled my soul with happiness. Piece by piece, word by word, this woman was worming her way into my heart without even trying.

  Realizing that I was getting far too close much too soon, I backed away and tossed the washrag into the sink, pulled the plug, and let the water drain out. “Now we need to bandage. Tomorrow, during the day, you may want to give the stitches some air time.”

  “Yeah, that’s what the doctor said too.” She clutched the towel in front of her chest.

  I focused on all the hospital supplies Mila had placed on the counter. Gauze and medical tape for her back. Neosporin for her knees, elbows, and palms.

  “I’m going to start with your back. I’ll put them on pretty loose.”

  “Thank you, Clay. I don’t know
how to…” Her voice shook, as did her body. The woman needed rest and time. Time to heal and to deal with the severity of what had happened to her.

  Once more, I placed my hand on the crook of her neck, only I brought my face eye level. With my thumb, I caressed the apple of her cheek. A spattering of freckles fanned across her nose and cheeks like a dusting of cinnamon. So pretty. “I want to be here. You do not need to keep thanking me. For reasons I can’t explain, that I’m not exactly sure of…I just…uh…need to. Okay?”

  Her eyes widened, and she licked her plump lips. They looked so soft and inviting. What I wouldn’t give to press my own against them just once, but it wasn’t the right time. When I kissed Monet Holland it would be because she was aching for it, and the look in her eyes would be one of excitement not uncertainty.

  “Monet, not only are you part of the family of friends I’ve built in this area, you’re a good woman. A kind, loving mother, and someone I want very much to get to know better. Is that okay with you?”

  She swallowed and inhaled softly before answering. “Yes.”

  “You going to stop thanking me for doing what I feel is necessary?” I cocked one eyebrow for emphasis.

  She licked her lips. “Yes.”

  “Is yes all you can say?”

  Monet smiled huge, the first true smile I’d seen since I laid eyes on her earlier this evening. It was the same one that’d had my nuts in a twist when I met her last year.

  “You’re making me nervous.” Her reply was breathy and sexy as hell.

  I inched closer, leaving only a dozen centimeters between our faces. I could feel her warm breath against my lips and chin. Her eyes were dark pools I wanted to gaze into forever. “Nervous good or nervous bad?”

  “I don’t know,” she admitted. Honesty. I hadn’t had many honest women catch my eye.

  I grinned, and she bit into her bottom lip. Jeez-us. So sexy, and without even trying. Her beauty, honesty, and adorable mini-Moe running around… I knew without a doubt I was a goner. I’d take it easy and give her time, although frankly not a lot of it, because I wasn’t a man who wasted precious weeks messing around when what I’d always wanted was sitting right in front of me.