Limitless Love: A Lotus House Novel: Book Four

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Limitless Love: A Lotus House Novel: Book Four Page 10

by Audrey Carlan


  I kissed it away. “You’re beautiful, and as of today, you’re mine.”

  “I don’t know why you want me.”

  Her words broke my fucking heart in half. I cupped her cheek again and looked hard into her soulful eyes. “Because you’re everything I’ve ever wanted in a woman.”

  “I’m not.”

  “You are.” I pressed more firmly against her forehead and gave her the words I’d been dying to say. “You’re beautiful. Intelligent. Driven. Kind. Generous. Loving. An amazing mother. Monet, I could go on and on.”

  She sucked in a quick breath. “This doesn’t seem real. You can’t be real.” Her body shook in my arms as her fingers tightened around me.

  Another tear ran down her cheek. Once more I kissed it away, the salt tingling on my tongue. “I’m going to prove to you that I am. That what’s between us is very real.”

  I cupped her face and stared into her eyes, trying to sear the truth of my statement into her psyche. I’d do whatever it took to make her see I was in this for the long haul and had zero intention of walking away. At that point, I didn’t think I could. Everywhere I looked, I saw my future staring back at me. A graceful woman I wanted more than anything. A little girl who needed a father figure. A man to take care of her. Of both of them. I wanted to be that man. I would be that man.

  “Thought we were making pizzas, bro!” Atlas’s voice boomed from around the corner. He walked into the kitchen and then stopped cold. “Um, yeah, I can see you’re busy.”

  I shook my head and chuckled, squeezing Monet to me so she could hide her tears and burrow into my chest while she pulled herself together. “Nope. We’re all good. Monet and I were just getting some facts straight. Right, beautiful?”

  Atlas coughed. “Ooookaaay. So then you want me to go?”

  “Naw, man, we’re cool. Why don’t you get some beers for me and you? I’ll take care of dinner for the family,” I said, making my statement very clear to the woman I held.

  I kissed her once, then twice, and let her go.

  Atlas placed an open beer next to me and turned to leave the kitchen, probably realizing we needed another minute.

  “Hey, could you tell the queen to get in here? I promised her a royal meal, and she’s going to help make it.”

  Atlas chuckled and went to find Lily.

  The second he was out of earshot, I couldn’t help but push her a little harder. “You believe me? You going to give this an actual shot? Stop thinking I’m going to walk away or disappear any second?”

  “I’ll try, Clayton. I want this to be real. I really do. For me. For Lily. For all of us. But I’ve been hurt before. Goodness, I’ve had my heart shattered, and I’m wearing the stitches to prove how badly I’ve been hurt by love.” Her lips trembled and it took everything I had to keep my distance.

  I nodded. “Then, like I said, it’s up to me to prove it.”

  Right then, Lily barreled into the kitchen and ran right into my legs for the second time that night. Her eagerness to please me slammed into my heart. “Ready for chef duty, King Clay!” She raised her arms, and I lifted her up and held her close, allowing her warmth to lead me through.

  “I will prove this is real, beautiful. Just give it a chance. It’s all I’m asking.” I set Lily on the counter and held a bag in front of her, leaving Monet to her thoughts. She needed to process all of this, wrap her head around it, and start living in it the way I already was.

  Lily held her hands to her chest and bit her lip. “What are we making?” Cutest fuckin’ kid ever.

  “Homemade pizzas!” I showed her the cheese, pepperoni, and additional fixings.

  Lily clapped wildly. “I wuv pizza!”

  I laughed and kissed her nose. She grabbed my cheeks and kissed mine in return. “Mommy, are you gonna help?”

  Monet saddled up to my back, placed her hand in the center, and ran it down to the small indention above my ass. I shivered at her simple touch, letting the awareness of her palm seep deep into me. She moved against my side, kissed my bicep, and then pressed her cheek to it before looking up.

  “I want to try,” she said softly. I knew those words weren’t for Lily but for me. For the budding relationship I wanted—that we both wanted but she was afraid to enter. Elation mixed with excitement rushed through me.

  “That’s all anyone can ever expect,” I said before leaning down toward her face. She lifted her head and I kissed her lips. “Thank you.”

  She kissed me once more. “No. Thank you.”

  Finally, a real start. I could put all the shit of the past behind me and start fresh with Monet and Lily. The number of people I cared about was growing by leaps and bounds, and at the front of the pack were these two raven-haired beauties. I was one lucky bastard, and I intended to hold on to that luck for as long as possible.

  Chapter Seven

  Heart-centered females tend to appear more calm and collected. Others seek them out due to their serene nature. However, if a heart-centered female has a closed heart chakra due to an extreme physical or emotional setback, they may react irrationally and out of character until the chakra is opened once more.

  MONET

  I’d given myself yet another sponge bath in two inches of water, as a person would an eight-month-old baby. Stepping out of the tub, I stopped in front of the mirror. I’d purposely not looked at the damage Kyle had caused to my back. Every time I tried, I went back there, back to where he held me down against my will, threatening to kill me.

  I knew the wound was extensive and ran the length of my back from shoulder blade to hip, but I hadn’t gotten up the courage to actually look at it. Now that it had been a week and a half since it happened and I was getting the stitches out in a few days, I needed to woman up. Rip off the Band-Aid and move on.

  With shaking fingers, I dried the rest of my body, bending incrementally so I didn’t stretch the stitches and skin that was newly fused together. The doctor had encouraged me to move around but to take things slow.

  Take things slow.

  The phrase was my new motto and the exact pace I’d requested of Clayton. And so far, he had. I wouldn’t call him a knight in shining track pants or anything, but he’d made his intentions with me very clear. He wanted me. No matter how hard I’d tried to come up with a good rationale, I couldn’t figure out why. Sure, I wasn’t hard to look at normally, but when it came to baggage, I had heaps of it. Most men I’d met since Kyle didn’t want anything to do with a thirty-year-old woman with a child. And now that I’d been attacked by my ex-husband? Irreparably scarred for life? Just another load in the already full trunk of crap I carried around.

  So why did Clayton want to be with me? I agreed we had chemistry and some serious sparks. His essence spoke to me. The way he tenderly helped with my bandages, his intense kisses…and that didn’t even cover his body. I closed my eyes and hugged myself, clutching the towel tightly. The man was sex incarnate. Everything in me wanted to lay him out flat and take advantage of all those bulging, toned muscles and the miles of tanned skin, but I just couldn’t. Physically I was sure I wasn’t ready. Mentally, I was a straight up mess of mixed emotions and contradictions.

  I shook my head. So stupid. Fantasizing about a man I couldn’t even have sex with yet. Yet. That was the one word that glimmered like a ray of hope in my subconscious. When I’m better, when the stitches are removed and I’m healed, he’s going to want to have sex with me. Eventually. Hopefully.

  Uggh. It felt as though I was head-shrinking myself. The back and forth, the what ifs, the will he or won’t he, was making me crazy. Certifiable. Why couldn’t I just believe the words he’d said to me?

  He enjoyed our family.

  He wanted me.

  He loved Lily.

  Take the risk.

  Try.

  Setting the towel down on the vanity, I glanced at my naked form. Everything about me from the front seemed so average. Normal B-cup breasts, slim figure, shapely hips, a small, rounded belly I hadn�
��t been able to lose since having Lily. Still, I wore a bikini confidently. Well, I used to be able to. Then again, maybe the damage wasn’t so bad. I shifted to the side, just barely catching sight of the small wisps of strings from the black sutures in my shoulder blades.

  Fear tingled up my spine and closed around my throat as I reached for the hand mirror. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, turned around, and held up the mirror so I could see my back. Cotton coated my throat as I warred with myself to open my eyes.

  Just open your stupid eyes. It’s easy. Open them, look at the wound, and be done. Over. Simple.

  I opened my eyes and focused on the mirror. My hand shook, and my entire body trembled as I took in the carnage reflected back at me. From my hip up to my shoulder blade was a long, jagged, puffy pink line, held together with black sutures. It reminded me of those dressing gowns from the olden days, where a set of black buttons ran from the waist all the way up the spine to the neck. Only, these were no buttons and not nearly as pretty. It was ghastly.

  The more I took in, the more acid swirled in my stomach. My mouth watered and I tried to swallow it back, but I couldn’t. My chest heaved and I covered my mouth. I barely made it to the toilet, where I threw up violently. The images of my disgusting back flashed at me like a camera lens clicking madly. The sexy line of my back, the one feature I’d always appreciated about myself, had been destroyed forever.

  Every heave shredded the tender stitches, but I couldn’t stop. For long minutes I gagged and expelled every scrap of food and drink I’d put into my body until there was nothing but bile, yet I still choked. The rolling waves didn’t stop, though I did my best to breathe through them, tears running down my cheeks, my nose and throat burning like white-hot fire.

  Eventually I got control of my stomach and the violent physical response and pushed back onto my heels. For a long time I let the tears fall, cuddled my legs to my chest, and cried.

  The man I’d loved, married, chose to bring a child into the world with did this to me. He hurt me. Repeatedly. The anger inside me threaded with the revulsion to make a heady mix of sheer hate. Kyle was still out there. He hadn’t been caught. And me… I’d been holed up in my house healing from what that bastard did to me. And then there was Clayton. Good, masculine, kind, caring, handsome Clayton. The man I promised to try with. Try and be what he needed. But what if I couldn’t? What then? Would he leave too? Kyle had no problem leaving me for my sister. Leaving Lily. Would Clayton do the same when he figured out I wasn’t what he needed? When I couldn’t give him the perfect woman?

  Self-loathing slithered up my throat, but I choked it back down. No. I wouldn’t cry another tear. No more. I was stronger than that, and it was time I proved it to everyone. Proved it to myself.

  Slowly I eased up, rinsed out my mouth, and brushed my teeth. I stared unseeing into the mirror, not recognizing the woman standing there. She was pale, her cheeks sunken in, her hair a tangled mess. Pink blotches ran up and down her chest.

  I wiped my mouth and tossed the towel at the image; I hated her. This wasn’t me. But it was. The new body I’d have to live with.

  On instinct I threw a camisole over my head and rushed to my closet. I slapped at each hanger until I reached my designer dresses.

  “You’re gone.” I pulled out a white dress with an open back, dropped it to the floor, and kicked it aside. I grabbed another, a red number I absolutely loved. I’d worn it to one of Mila’s gallery showings.

  “You too!” I practically screamed, tears forming and spilling over my cheeks, even though I’d sworn I wouldn’t shed another. It was like the hate was pouring out of me. The disgust urged my forward motion.

  “Moe?” I heard Mila’s voice from the entrance of my room, a good distance from where I stood in my walk-in closet. I ignored her, set on the task ahead.

  My fingers wrapped around a sexy little black dress with a cowl in the front and the back. “Fuck you!” I ripped the dress off the hanger and tossed it to the floor.

  “Moe, what on earth is going on?” Mila sounded worried and strained as she took in the growing pile of clothes around my feet.

  I laughed heartily but didn’t feel joy. No, all I felt was hate. And anger. Lots of anger. A bright-blue summer dress was next. I’d worn it to Genevieve and Trent’s wedding. An amazing day filled with love, laughter, and hope for the future. It was a gorgeous piece that had looked better on me than it did on the hanger. Only, it had spaghetti straps, and now that I would have a scar up the right side of my back, it would be hideous.

  “No one wants to see the disgusting part of my back, so this dress is out!” I hollered at no one in particular and tossed the dress on the floor. That one hurt. Not physically but emotionally, because I’d worn it on a great day I would have liked to remember the next time I wore it.

  “You’re not throwing that dress away. It looks amazing on you, and you love it.” Mila frowned and reclined against the doorjamb.

  “Correction!” I pointed the hanger at my best friend. “It used to look good on me. Those days are over.”

  I grabbed another random dress. This one had a cutout in the center of the back that was shaped like a diamond. I didn’t know if it would show the new feature my ex had so lovingly carved into me, but I wasn’t thinking straight and didn’t care. It had an open spot on the back so it had to go. “You’re out!” I flung it over my shoulder.

  “Moe.” Mila approached me and placed her hand on my wrist. “Please stop this.”

  “What? I’m just cleaning house. Getting rid of all the things I can no longer wear now that I’m hideous!”

  Mila clenched her teeth. “You are not hideous. You have been injured, but you will heal.”

  I laughed hysterically, more tears flowing down my cheeks, much to my dismay. “I’ll never be the same.”

  “No, you won’t.”

  I jolted back and looked at my best friend’s sorrowful brown eyes.

  “You won’t be the same again. Everything that happens to us in life changes us in one way or another. We learn to live with those changes in whatever way we need to.”

  “And this is my way!” I pointed at the dresses and decided to grab all of them in a heaping armful and yank them off the rod. Pain splintered in my back but I didn’t care. They had to go.

  Mila let me throw the whole lot on the ground. “This isn’t the way, Moe, and you know it. What would you tell your clients in a situation like this?”

  I narrowed my eyes at her. “Don’t you use psychiatry on me. I’m the one with the degree.” I ground my teeth, ire burning hot under the surface of my skin.

  Mila, being my best friend, didn’t even flinch. “You’re acting irrationally, and someone has to tell it to you straight.”

  “So tell it to me straight. Go ahead, give it to me!” I growled, clenching my hands into fists, waiting for the blow that was sure to come.

  Mila shook her head. “Moe, you need help. You have to talk to someone about what happened. You’re not talking to me, or Atlas, or even Clay.”

  I sucked in a huge breath and wiped my wet cheeks. “I’m fine.”

  “You’re not,” she fired back.

  “Let me be the judge of that.”

  “You’re not capable of judging your actions right now.”

  “Mila…you’re walking on dangerous ground here,” I warned.

  Mila threw her hand up out in front of me in a stop gesture. “Shut up. You would never allow me to lose my shit like this, and I’m not going to allow you to either. When’s the next time going to happen? When you have Lily with you? Huh? What if she wasn’t at school and saw you like this right now? Do you think it’s okay for her to see you like this? A sobbing mess, throwing away perfectly good clothes, acting irrationally?”

  I scowled. “Are you telling me that I’d hurt my daughter?”

  “Intentionally? Never. But you not taking care of you will ultimately hurt her. Look at yourself.”

  “I did. In the mirror!” I
screeched like an evil banshee. “I finally looked at myself, Mila! I saw what he did to me. I saw it, and it’s disgusting. Repulsive!” My legs gave out, and I landed on the floor of my closet, shaking, sweaty, destroyed.

  Mila rushed to me, went to her knees, and put her hands on my shoulders. “I swear it will heal. It will look better, but it takes time. Honey, it just takes time.”

  I lifted my head. My eyes were like faucets, tears coming so fast I couldn’t stop them. The only time I’d ever cried this hard was when Kyle left me for my sister. “What am I going to do?” I choked on a sob.

  Mila put her arms loosely around me, and I nestled my face against her neck. I cried so hard while my best friend held me. “You’re going to cry it out. You’re going to get the stitches removed and let your body heal. I’ll get some essential oils to help reduce the scarring. You are going to make an appointment to talk to someone.”

  “Mila…” I gasped through the tears. She made it sound so easy, when it felt like an avalanche was pressing me down into the ground.

  “No. You’re going to do what I say because you know I love you. Right now, you’re going to lean on me, Atlas, and Clay. The three of us are going to get you through this. I promise. One day, this will not crush you.”

  “He already did. He crushed my heart when he cheated and left; now he’s destroyed my body. What else is there?”

  She held me tighter. I didn’t tell her she was hurting my wound, because I needed to feel the pain, feel something instead of the bone-crushing grief over what I’d become.

  “Moe, life has just begun. A woman I adore, love more than anything, once told me every day life starts over with new things to appreciate and love.”

  I closed my eyes, remembering when I’d said those very words to Mila when she was scared to commit to Atlas. She’d been hurt by the past and by him but needed to let go in order to move on. And there they were; my words had come back to haunt me.

  “Please focus on what’s ahead. Lily. The new baby. Clayton.”

  Those three things alone were pretty damn great, and I did have them. Right now, even. I had those now.

 

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