Limitless Love: A Lotus House Novel: Book Four

by Audrey Carlan

  I shook my head and abruptly backed up. He frowned, his arms falling to his sides. My guess was he probably sensed my confusion at what was taking place between us.

  “Clayton, I’m not sure I can do that. I’m not even sure I’m capable of giving anything right now.” The words were honest and heartbreaking at the same time. Mostly because in another place and time I would have jumped at the chance to be this man’s girl. To experience the chemistry and spark, as he put it. To live it every day, be excited about every call. Planning meals, dressing up, trying to impress him. Now, like this, I didn’t even know who I was anymore. Kyle had taken that from me. My confidence was black and wasted like a piece of burnt toast. I had no idea when it would come back around, or when I would. He didn’t deserve to wait, put his life on hold for what might be.

  Clayton inclined against the counter, his muscles bunching seductively. Ugh, why did he have to be so attractive?

  “Do what?” He flattened his lips and narrowed his eyes.

  I licked my lips, distracted by his beauty regardless of his obvious irritation. What I wouldn’t have given to be whole. “I don’t think it’s fair for us to let it play out.”

  He sighed and crossed his arms over his chest in a defensive posture. “Care to tell me why?”

  Honesty. He deserved that. “Look, Clayton, you are an amazing man, but you don’t need this.” I pointed to my chest. “I’m messed up. My ex is after me and could hurt anyone in my path, including you. I have a child…” I could have gone on and on, but really, it wasn’t necessary. My baggage was obvious and far heavier than any one man should have to endure entering a new relationship. Not that this was a relationship.

  Clayton shook his head, turned, and flicked the burners on once more. With efficient movements, he stirred and prepped the rest of the food. I noted a pan full of succulent spiced ground meat, a pot of beans, another pan with homemade Mexican rice, and a cast-iron skillet with a stack of corn tortillas sitting on the counter next to it. He’d done all of this for me, and here I was telling him he should step back. Practically begging him to.

  “Why don’t you let me decide what it is I need, huh?” he shot off as he tossed a tortilla on the hot skillet. The corn disc sizzled and popped instantly. Methodically he flipped it.

  “Clay, you’re an impressive, handsome man who deserves a good woman. A whole woman. Not one who’s broken and damaged. Between Kyle, Lily…the attack.” The line of stitches running down my back smarted, causing me to pause and breathe through it. I closed my eyes tight. “I’m not what you need. I don’t know if what I have, what I am, even well and healthy would be good enough.” The truth burned like acid against my lips with each word. “You’re so much more than this, and I don’t know when I’ll be better. I’m certainly not worth the wait or the wasted time.” I clasped my fingers together and worried my sweater’s sleeve, which fell over the top of my hand. My throat was dry, and the admission of how jacked up my life had become was nauseating.

  Clayton spun around, slamming the spatula down on the counter. I jumped a bit at the crack of the plastic as it landed on the marble. Anger tightened around his lips, and a hardness I hadn’t seen before entered his eyes. I bristled at this new side of Clayton but wouldn’t allow it to outwardly affect me. He didn’t deserve that. I wasn’t scared of him. He’d never hurt me. I knew that with my entire being.

  “Spending time with you, with Lily, and Atlas and Mila is not wasted.” His voice was low and even-tempered. He inhaled sharply through his nose. “If you haven’t noticed, I’ve been enjoying myself. For once.” He groaned, sounding frustrated, possibly even disappointed.

  “For once?” I blinked, desperately trying to figure out where he was going with this.

  His tone rose. “Yeah, for once I got off work and had a home to go to. Not an empty bachelor pad, but a real home with people in it I care about. People who I thought wanted to see me. Are you telling me you don’t want me here?” His eyes blazed with an emotion I couldn’t pin down, but seeing it made me feel ugly and uncomfortable.

  Was I? That wasn’t my intention. “I’m saying everything all wrong.” I flicked my hands, trying to ease the worry and instability I felt roaring through my veins. Damned meds. I couldn’t get my mouth around what I wanted to express, and I was a doctor for crying out loud. I talked people off cliffs for a living, and I couldn’t share with one man why his interest in me wasn’t a good choice. I took a slow breath and tried again. “Of course we want you here. You’ve been nothing but helpful, and you’re our friend. What I said came out wrong, and you’re misinterpreting.”

  “Yeah?” His eyebrows rose in question.

  “Yes,” I blurted, not knowing what else to say to make things better, to show him that he mattered but not lead him down a slippery path I wasn’t sure I could take with him. Not now, maybe not ever.

  “There’s that word again.”

  I pursed my lips and placed my hands on my hips. “Well, you are.”

  He ran a hand through his hair and looked over my shoulder. I did as well and noted Lily happily watching cartoons. Atlas was on the couch next to her, plucking at his guitar and writing things down in a small notepad, totally oblivious to the strange smackdown of wills we were having in the kitchen.

  “You know what, beautiful?” His eyes were a bonfire of heat when he looked me up and down, taking in my loose pajamas, my disheveled hair, and finally my face. He seemed to zero in on my mouth.

  “Misinterpret this!” he said on a growl before his face was in front of mine, his hand tunneled into my hair, and his lips slanted over mine.

  “Oh!” I moaned a second before his tongue dipped in and tangled with mine. I couldn’t help but respond. His entire presence enveloped me in a cocoon of warmth and heat. He tasted of spice and mint and luscious man. I had absolutely no willpower with his lips on mine.

  Clayton cocked his head to the side and eased my face up with his thumb at my jaw. He didn’t have to. I’d have gone like a horse to water. His lips were warm as they pressed against mine. For a moment, I allowed him to stun me with his kiss…until I’d had enough of sitting on the sidelines and I wanted more. So much more. With both hands, I cupped his cheeks and sucked on his bottom lip, taking control.

  “Fuck,” he whispered, easing me forward until he was against the counter and I was pressing against the hard wall of muscles again. We were back in the position that had gotten us into our heavy discussion in the first place. What the hell was it between the two of us? I didn’t know, but with his mouth on mine, his tongue lapping and flicking against my teeth, I didn’t give a flying fig.

  I moaned into his mouth until I twisted my upper body too far and a jolt of pain fired from every nerve ending.

  “Oh God!” I cried out and backed away, pushing my hair from my face and gritting my teeth. The torment of each stitch pulling against one another throbbed and banged through my entire body. The kiss ended, and in its place a new sense of dread. Even a simple kiss hurt like hell. Kyle had done that to me. He’d taken my first kiss with Clayton Hart and made it painful. God this situation was torture, but the kiss…nothing but pure beauty.

  “What’s the matter? Shit, Monet. I wasn’t thinking. I lost it the second I kissed you.” He held my biceps and craned his neck to look into my eyes.

  I lifted my hand to my mouth, feeling the swollen flesh. Screw the pain. The kiss won out. I’d take the pain any day of the week to feel that bliss again. I peered over my shoulder to check on Lily. She was still watching cartoons, oblivious, but Atlas was openly gawking. Much to my dismay, he raised his hands and offered a slow clap for the show.

  I closed my eyes and clenched my teeth. This was not happening. This could not happen. “Um…”

  “You okay?” Clayton’s normally light-blue eyes had darkened with the shadow of worry. Again, all my fault. Usually when a man kissed a woman, the last thing he worried about was whether she was in pain.

  Needing to brush it off and no
t take away from one of the loveliest moments between Clayton and myself, I fibbed. “I’m fine. I just twisted weird for a second.”

  “You mean when you were trying to suck my tonsils out of my throat?” He cocked an eyebrow and smirked.

  I narrowed my gaze, giving a death glare in reply as I backed away from his body a few steps.

  He put a hand over his abdomen and laughed heartily. “Just kidding, beautiful. You need to lighten up. Besides, that kiss said everything you couldn’t.” He turned and placed a tortilla on the skillet to warm.

  “Which is what, exactly?”

  “That you think I’m hot.” His confidence was just barely this side of arrogant.

  I rolled my eyes. How we went from he shouldn’t bother with me and my baggage to kissing to him knowing I thought he was hot was like a case of whiplash. My emotions and feelings were bouncing all over the place. Trying to take a note from his levity, I responded, “Everyone thinks you’re hot. The entire female population would admit that. It’s not a stretch.”

  He smiled and winked over his shoulder.

  “Annnndddd…” he drew out the word. “You like me,” he added, his voice laced with humor.

  I cringed. “What is this? Seventh grade? Yes, I like you.” Easy enough to admit. He was a likable guy.

  “That you liked kissing me,” he continued.

  A wave of heat flashed over my cheeks. Uh-huh. I saw where he was going with his jabs, and I decided I’d play along. “Maybe.”

  “That you felt the spark.”

  I sighed. Infuriating man! “I will admit there were some definite sparks.”

  “And we have chemistry.” He just blazed ahead, no stopping at Go, no collecting his two hundred dollars as though we were playing Monopoly.

  “Clayton…” I warned. Why couldn’t he see I was all wrong for him? He deserved so much more than what I could offer him.

  “What do you have to lose trying this out with me?” His voice was low enough that only I could hear him.

  There was so much I could say to that loaded question. I could lose my sanity. I could fall in love and risk having my heart broken. My daughter could get used to him and have her heart broken. He could realize I was not worth the trouble. Kyle could hurt him, me, any of us, and he shouldn’t get involved. I was a divorced single mom who’d been cut mentally and physically. Besides all of that, it could all go to hell in a handbasket. Then Atlas would be angry with Clayton, and it would affect their friendship. Honestly, I could come up with far more reasons against this “thing” between us than I could for it.

  I didn’t say any of that. Instead, I fired back the one thing I needed to know more than anything. The question that would tip the scales one way or the other. It was the only way I could risk it all.

  “What do you have to gain?” I heard how tired, lost, and everything in between I sounded. My mind was mush, on complete and utter overload.

  His next words floored me.

  “Can’t you see? I have everything to gain. Lily, and all of this.” He gestured around the general vicinity of my home, the warmth I knew he found there. “Mostly though, it’s…you.”

  Chapter Six

  The heart chakra and the body need love. The best way to receive love is to give it freely. Kiss and embrace often. A gentle pat to the back, a kind word of affirmation, even a hand to the shoulder provides a peaceful energy exchange. Making another smile will make you smile. Happiness is contagious.

  CLAYTON

  Monet was warming to me. For the first week of her recovery, I went to the Holland home each night to make the clan dinner. To some it might have sounded like work or a pansy-ass attempt at getting close to the raven-haired, freckle-nosed beauty, but I didn’t care. Monet was getting stronger every day. Arm movement seemed easier. She winced less when handling things or hugging her child. Sure signs she was on the road to recovery.

  And as always there was Ms. Lily.

  The things that kid said had me laughing up a storm. I couldn’t get enough of the little bugger. Atlas said that proved I was indeed ready to settle down. Of course he’d say that. He had a baby on the way and walked through his days beaming like a spotlight was on him, smiling for the world to see. I was happy for Atlas and Mila. They’d each had rough childhoods, and the beginning of their relationship hadn’t been easy. I didn’t begrudge them their piece of the proverbial American dream. Selfishly, I also wanted a piece for myself.

  Monet could very well be that crucial fit I’d been looking for. My attraction to her was off the charts. Even wounded, makeup-free, and dressed in house clothes, the woman was still the most splendid thing I’d ever seen. From the tip of her dainty feet to the top of her head of silky black hair, she was perfection. I didn’t care about the scar that ran up her back, but I knew she did. It would take a while for her to come to terms with that change to her appearance. Even more so would be the impact the experience had on her life. I imagined that as a therapist, she knew what was coming. So far she hadn’t made any mention of therapy for herself. Just spoke often about when she planned on going back to work.

  What was that saying again? Doctors made the worst patients? I had a strong feeling Monet was going to crumble at some point if she didn’t talk about what had happened. Mila and Atlas were content to let her push it aside and pretend it didn’t happen. I, on the other hand, knew from experience—hiding from this would not be possible. The vulgarity and viciousness of what Kyle did would creep up to the surface in one way or another. I just hoped I’d be there to help her through. If she’d let me.

  In just over a week, I’d wheedled my way into a groove with this family. It had been so seamless too. I hadn’t been kidding when I told Monet I wanted to let the spark between us play out. And over the past week it had…in spades. Even while healing, the woman was strong and determined to be a good mother and provide a solid, healthy home for her daughter. I’d caught her trying to pick up toys off the floor, lift a laundry basket, and more. Several times, Mila, Atlas, and even I scolded her. None of us wanted the healing process impeded because of her endless drive and determination. The woman was a machine. She’d taken on healing and taking care of others like it was her job. And I guess in a way, it was.

  Things had changed between us too. I went out of my way to touch her, hold her hand, kiss her cheek, and I was getting to know Lily better. Monet was responsive if not a bit skittish, but my goal was set. Win her over with kindness and stability. Show her I could be the type of man she could count on for the long term.

  I pulled up to the Holland home, bags of food at the ready. Tonight, I’d planned on pleasing the queen with homemade pizzas and salad. Instead of grabbing the bags, I jumped out of my car and used the key Mila had given me to open the door first. No sense in waking Monet by knocking or ringing the bell if she was taking one of her naps before dinner.

  Atlas strolled past as I opened it.

  “Hey, man, what’s on for tonight?” he asked, following me out to my car.

  “Homemade pizzas and salad.” I walked to the back of my SUV, lifted the hatch, and the two of us organized the bags.

  “Dude, this is more than the fixings for tonight.”

  I shrugged. “Got enough for a couple days and some breakfast items and lunch. Wanted to make sure you were all set for a while.”

  Atlas frowned. “Because you’re not coming back?” His voice was lower than normal and carried a slight strain I hadn’t heard before.

  “No!” I shook my head. “I wanted to make sure Monet and Lily have everything they need for every meal. That’s all.”

  His frown turned upside down quicker than a snap. He slapped my back with a harsh man-pat. “Atta boy. Making sure your girls are set. I get you.”

  “How’s about you help me get these bags in? Unless you’d rather make your own dinners again?” I stated sarcastically.

  Atlas’s eyes rounded. “Right-o. Message received. Oh, but hey, some of the gang is coming over tomorrow after
work. Genevieve, Trent, the baby, and Amber and Dash. Should we plan to order in?”

  “You know, Atlas, subtlety was never your strong suit.”

  He ran his hand through his hair. “What the fuck am I supposed to say? You’ve been coming over every night, making dinner for everyone, which I hella appreciate by the way. Not gonna lie, I’ve never eaten better. But I know Moe doesn’t expect you to keep doing it. Especially with more people coming over. I just thought I should… I don’t know what the fuck I thought. You’ve put me in a weird spot. You’re Moe’s man but not…”

  “I am.”

  “You are what?” He struggled to cinch a few bags.

  “I definitely am Monet’s man.” There was zero hesitation in my statement. Then doubt wiggled its way into my thoughts. “Well, I’m attempting to be.”

  Atlas cringed. “Does she know that?”

  “Working on it.” And hell if I knew a faster way to get her over that hump. I knew I needed to give her time. I’d read up a bit on post-traumatic stress. I could try my best to get into her headspace and give her what she needed to help her heal mentally, but I wasn’t the professional. All I could do was show her that I wasn’t going anywhere and that I was into her for the long haul. However long it took.

  Atlas sighed, mimicking my own feelings. We hauled all the bags out of the car at once so we didn’t have to make a second trip.

  “I wish you had entered the picture a year ago. Then we wouldn’t be dealing with this awkward shit.” He walked into the house in front of me, shifting sideways so the bags didn’t bang into the walls. I followed his lead.

  “Me too. I’m paying for that mistake now. But I’m here and I’m not going anywhere.” It would be up to me to prove that to Monet. Just the thought of that woman had me smiling, and her kid… Shit, she might as well be my happiness meter. When Lily smiled, the entire world smiled with her.

  My friend nodded while we filed into the kitchen. Lily was spinning in a circle in the open living room in front of Mila and Monet, who watched her every move.