In The Dark

by Sarah K. Jensen

  He chuckled, and taking her face in his hands, kissed her with a gentleness that nearly broke her heart. Tears welled up in her eyes, but she fought to keep them there as she kissed him back ferociously. Her hands went to his shirt, tugging frantically at the waist to free it from his pants. She needed him with a desperation she had never before felt.

  Laif pulled back and wiped her tears away. “Whoa, baby, what’s wrong?”

  “Please.” She pulled his mouth back to hers, unbuttoning his white silk shirt. “I need you. Please, Laif.”

  He took her hands, stilling them. “I’d love to make love to you, sweetheart, but we have to check out in half an hour. What happened? Why are you crying?”

  She didn’t know. No. That wasn’t true. She knew exactly what was wrong. Fear. Fear of him leaving her. Of him not loving her enough when he finally met Jacob. She’d been crazy to think that he’d stay with her. She was nothing. And when he saw the man—his cousin—who had thrown her away, he’d realize it.

  A sob tore through her and she would have crumbled if Laif hadn’t caught her. He swept her up in his arms and sat on the bed, rocking back and forth, as if she were a small child. He kissed the top of her head, her temple, her cheek. “Baby, tell me what you’re thinking. Because whatever it is, I have a feeling it’s wrong.”

  “Don’t leave me,” she cried before she could stop herself. Then all her fears came tumbling out, like a waterfall of pains and heartaches that had been dammed up for years. Everyone she had ever loved, except for Callan, had left her. She’d never been good enough, and even Laif had left her before. He’d hate her when he saw Jacob, she just knew it, and then she just might die. Would he take care of Callan if she died?

  Laif’s heart hurt as he listened to all the fears of the woman he loved. He’d been such a jerk since they’d met. He thought of his own fears and how he’d taken them out on her. Walking when things got tough.

  He’d apologized, told her that sometimes he needed to think things out before he said something he couldn’t take back. Only he hadn’t realized what he’d been doing to her. This woman, who always seemed so strong, was so much more vulnerable, and fragile than he’d realized. She seemed an indomitable force so much of the time that he’d often forgotten her heartaches. All the pains she’d suffered in her short life.

  Yes, she’d slept with a man when she was just a girl, but he had kissed so many women over the years—just because he could. He was the one who wasn’t good enough. But he didn’t care. He knew he’d probably never measure up to the man she deserved, no man would. But that didn’t matter, he’d try his hardest to be that man, to the best of his abilities, for the rest of his life.

  “Shh,” he cooed. “I’m so sorry that I’ve hurt you. I swear, I’ll do better.” Now he was kissing her just as frantically as she’d kissed him earlier. Laif pulled her shirt up and over her head, his hands touching her everywhere, yet it wasn’t enough. “I love you so much,” he growled, laying her back on the bed.

  He came over her, kissing her mouth, her chin, her neck as he tried to show her how much she meant to him, how much he needed her. Would always need her. Would always love her.

  They came together in a frenzied tangle. And when his mouth found hers again all her fears poured into his mind and Laif knew she saw his.

  Suddenly it all changed and all he felt was the love she had for him, he saw how she saw him, and it was staggering in its intensity. She loved him as he loved her. His tempo slowed as a peace he hadn’t imagined possible settled over him like sunbeams in the spring. Cleansing. Freeing. She truly loved him. Found him remarkable. Amazing even.

  He raised his head when the images and feelings blended away into overwhelming love. “I love you, Memphis.”

  She smiled. “I know.”

  He grinned. “Wench.”

  His heart soared when she laughed. Soared higher still when she whispered, “I love you.”

  And with the brilliant colors and lights that erupted then, Laif finally understood the healing power of love. Her love had healed his insecurities, and he knew his love had just healed hers.

  The trip to Ireland should have been exciting. It wasn’t. Callan had never been on a plane before, and even though the takeoff was kind of cool, they’d been in the air forever and he couldn’t see anything but clouds.

  Though staring at clouds was better than watching his mom and Laif kissing each other every few seconds. So gross. At least the plane had decent enough food and he got to watch a bunch of movies on Laif’s iPad.

  Callan could call Laif dad if he wanted, and mostly he wanted to, but it was still a little hard to think it. He’d never had a dad before and now, all of a sudden, he was going to have two.

  Callan didn’t know much about his biological father. His mom had always said that he was a handsome man who had been kind to her when she needed kindness. But he hadn’t stood up for her against his parents, so how great could he be.

  Really, he’d let her walk away with his kid, not bothering to look for her, to find out if she’d even had him. If he’d been a boy or girl. Nothing. Not a word in twelve years. Callan snorted. Did it really matter that he’d been kind to a fourteen-year-old girl? Kind? Is that really what his mom called it when the guy had slept with her and left her to have a baby on her own?

  His mom had explained that she didn’t know what kind of reception they would get, so not to get his hopes up that any of them would be nice. Well, duh. The people had kicked her to the curb, and he was supposed to think they might be nice to them all these years later. Sure, that would happen. And baby kangaroos would shoot out his butt too.

  Callan kind of felt sorry for his mom though. She’d had feelings for this guy at one point, and seeing him again, after all this time would have to be hard for her. Laif had better not take off again either.

  He watched them, his parents. Laif had adopted him. Well, was adopting him. Said it took a while, but the papers were filed. So, all they had to do now was get the signature of the man who had donated his sperm to aid in Callan’s creation. Then Laif would be his dad.

  Maybe that’s why he hadn’t started calling him “Dad” in his head yet, he was scared that something would go wrong and Laif couldn’t adopt him. Laif had assured him that that wouldn’t happen, no matter what, he’d do whatever it took to get that signature.

  Laif better. He’d better not get there and back out. He’d break his mom’s heart. And Callan wasn’t going to let him chicken out and walk away from her again. He wouldn’t let his mom walk away from Laif either.

  “What’s wrong?” his mom asked.

  Callan just shook his head, turning his attention back to the western movie Laif had downloaded that was turning out to be pretty good. Even if it was in black and white and the Indians were really just big white guys with a lot of makeup on.

  “Hey?” Laif squeezed his shoulder.

  “What?” Callan didn’t mean to sound grumpy when he answered, but he guessed he was a little more upset about all this than he’d thought.

  “Cal?” There was an edge to his mom’s voice, and he knew he’d be in trouble if he didn’t apologize, ASAP.

  “Sorry,” he mumbled.

  “Why were you glaring at Laif?” his mom asked.

  Without looking at them, he asked, “Was I?”

  “Yeah, you were. Want to let me know what I’ve done to make you unhappy?”

  Dang. He sounded sad, not angry. Dealing with anger was easier. Like with his mom, when she was mad, he could be mad too. But when she was sad, then his insides hurt. His insides hurt now. But he’d still find some way to hurt Laif if he hurt his mom.

  “Maybe you could go to the restroom or something,” Laif said to Memphis.

  She climbed over Laif’s lap and was gone, but Callan still didn’t look at Laif. He’d been so good to him. And to his mom. Callan loved Laif. Wanted him to be his dad. He didn’t want to hurt his feelings, but he was so scared.

  “Guess this
is all kind of hard for you, huh?” Laif said, turning in his seat and facing Callan. “I’d probably be scared half to death if I were going halfway across the world to meet the man who’d fathered me. Not to mention if I’d just got a step-dad that acted like a jerk sometimes when things got hard.”

  Callan looked up. “I don’t want you to hurt my mom again. I know that you didn’t want me at first, but you wanted Mom, so you had to take me too. But—”

  Laif cut him off. “Hold on one second,” he almost sounded mad again. “First off, at no point did I not want you. The second we met I knew you were supposed to be my son. Don’t ever doubt that again. But you’re right, I did take off.”

  He rubbed his hand over his face and sighed. “Man. This is hard to explain.” He looked down the aisle, maybe looking for help from his mom, Callan wasn’t sure, but when he looked back, he seemed determined. “Okay, you know about sex, right?”

  Cal nodded.

  “Well, that is something special, shared between a man and a woman who are married. Two people who love each other desperately. At least that’s how it’s supposed to be. Lots of people don’t hold it sacred anymore. They think that it’s no biggy to hook up with anyone. That as long as both people are old enough, then it is just fun. It doesn’t have to mean anything.” Laif rubbed his neck, his cheeks red.

  “I know that most of the world looks at sex as something to do whenever you want. I wasn’t raised that way. I was raised to believe that it was special. That sex is only for those who are married in the eyes of God. It hasn’t been easy, but….” Laif choked and mumbled a curse word that his mom would have been mad if she had heard and wiped the sweat off his forehead. “Do you know what a virgin is?”

  Callan nodded.

  “Okay, I was a virgin when your mom and I got married. Probably the oldest male virgin that’s not living at home in the world. At least I’ve often felt like I was. And sometimes it really wasn’t easy. But I held out. And when I found out your mom hadn’t…I just freaked. Couldn’t handle it.”

  He looked into Callan’s eyes, anguish in his, and said, “I’m not proud of how I acted. She was so young, and she hadn’t had the kind of life I’d had. I judged her harshly because it hurt me to think of her with someone else that way. I was already in love with her and wanted to marry her. I thought…”

  He shook his head. “That’s not important. What is important, is that I love her and you with all my heart, and even though I’m still not fond of how you came to be, I am beyond grateful you are here. And that your mom loves me enough to forgive me when I act stupid.”

  It kind of shocked Callan that Laif had been scared. He seemed so bigger-than-life. So strong. Cal didn’t realize that people like Laif ever got scared. “So, you aren’t going to leave us when we meet this Jacob guy? You aren’t going to decide that you don’t want us anymore?”

  Laif smiled. “You’re stuck with me kid. I ain’t goin’ nowhere.”

  Callan relaxed for the first time since he found out they were going to Ireland. “Good. I don’t want to get rid of you.”

  With a small laugh, Laif pulled Callan into a hug that sent Callan’s heart flying. He was home. Safe. He had a dad.

  “Thanks, Dad,” he whispered, then closed his eyes and fell asleep.

  Chapter 27

  “Is this the turn?” Laif asked Memphis. They’d flown from Austin to Kerry Ireland, with layovers in Atlanta and Dublin, and had then driven the thirty or so miles from Kerry to Cloghane.

  Last night they’d stayed at a townhouse Ian had reserved for the week. But now they were on the way to meet a part of his family he’d only heard about. His family who had rejected his wife.

  “Yeah. This is it.” Memphis’s voice squeaked.

  And if she didn’t quit licking her lips, they’d be chapped soon. Not to mentions what it was doing to him. They hadn’t made love since that frantic encounter in the hotel. He now understood why people stayed away for weeks on end. A man needed time to spend alone with his wife.

  Squeezing her hand, he said, “It’ll be okay. Ian promised, and somehow, I believe him.”

  Mostly.

  “I know. It’s just…” She glanced toward the backseat where Callan was staring out the window at the rolling hills on one side; the ocean was off to the other.

  “He’ll be fine,” Laif whispered. “He’s a tough kid. Besides, he puts up with me, doesn’t he?”

  Memphis grinned, which was what he was going for. “I love you.”

  “Me too.” He brought her hand to his mouth and kissed her palm, then the underside of her wrist, before running the tip of his tongue over that sensitive area. Her moss green eyes went wide, then darkened.

  “Laif,” she said in a husky whisper.

  Callan cleared his throat. “Are we close?”

  Memphis pulled her hand away, crossing her arms below her breasts, and looked out the windshield. “Yeah. It’s just around the next hill.” She looked back at Callan. “You okay?”

  He didn’t respond right away, so Laif peeked in the rearview mirror. When he answered, he seemed resigned. “I just want to get this over with.”

  “I know, baby,” Memphis said, reaching back and taking Callan’s hand. “It’ll all work out. Just know that I would never let anyone hurt you.”

  Callan rolled his eyes. “I know that Mom, but you can’t make these people nice if they’re not. And I’m more worried about them hurting you.”

  She beamed at him then. “Oh, baby, they can’t hurt me. They gave me you, and I have Laif. We have Laif. Nothing they say to me can hurt me unless they hurt you.”

  Laif’s heart swelled to the point of bursting. He loved them both so much and no way would he let his aunt’s family hurt his new family.

  “Turn here,” Memphis said. The house sat back off the road maybe a hundred yards, facing the ocean. Large stones acted as a wall around the two-story gray stone house.

  It was impressive, as Mount Brandon sat as a backdrop to the residence. Regan had told Laif that his brother-in-law had a few acres of land there and that they were well off. Laif didn’t know what well off in Ireland was, but he guessed that if they could heat and cool a stone house this size—he figured it was roughly ten thousand square feet—then they were probably as well off as his own parents.

  Laif stopped the rental car in the driveway and turned off the engine. Then they all just sat there. After a few moments of silence, Callan pushed open his door and said, “Okay, let’s get this over with.”

  Memphis and Laif followed his example and got out of the car. Laif took Memphis’s hand, she took Callan’s, and the three of them made their way up the steps and stood on the porch. This was it. They were going to knock on the Riley’s door. But as Laif lifted his hand to do just that, it swung open and the woman Laif knew was his aunt, Fiona Craig-Riley, stood in front of them.

  Her sun-kissed red hair was streaked with grey, and wrinkles etched her green eyes. His father’s eyes. She had an extra forty pounds or so but was still a beautiful woman. Not at all the rich sophisticate he’d expected. Not the woman whom Memphis had described.

  “Oh,” she said, flustered. “I thought you were Jacob and Susan and their brood. So sorry. What can I do for you?”

  Memphis cleared her throat, but before she could say anything Fiona flushed and exclaimed, “Heavens above. Memphis?”

  Memphis’s eyes widened and her mouth made the cutest little O. “You… you remember me?” She didn’t look as if that was a good thing.

  “Oh, darlin’, of course, I do. I’ve thought of you so many times over the years.” She turned to Callan and tears shone in her eyes. “You’re Callan, are you no’?”

  Callan nodded, baffled. “Um, how do you know my name?”

  She smiled. “I get updates from Aiden, the man who made us send you away. It was so hard no’ to reach out and help when we knew you struggled so, but we were warned.”

  She stopped abruptly, staring at Laif, before pulli
ng him into a tight embrace. “Ye have to be Regan’s son. Which one are you and how long did it take you to find our Memphis?”

  Our Memphis? This was the cold-hearted woman who sent a fourteen-year-old girl, pregnant with her grandchild, away?

  Laif pulled away, studied her for a moment, not sure what he felt for this woman, his aunt. Still, he answered, wanting her to know just where they all stood. “I’m Laif. Memphis is my wife. Callan is my son.”

  Fiona looked puzzled for a moment, then smiled. “Of course, she is, dear. Aiden told us that much. He looks more like you than Jacob anyway. It was the main reason we stayed away from you all for so long after I realized that running away from my family hadn’t been the right thing. I hadn’t wanted David to find out about the family secret.”

  She snorted, a very un-sophisticated sound, and then smiled. “By the time David finally got me to spill why I ran off and he’d never met my family, we had realized that our boys thought they were seeing ghosts. By then, well…”

  She blew out a long breath, moving her bangs off her face. “By then, it had been so long that I was scared to contact anyone. It took me two more years to talk to Ewen. Not long after that, Aiden, the same man who made us send you away, well, he told me that he would teach my boys, but we couldn’t contact my family anymore. That one day, they would come to us.”

  She waved her hand in the air. “But I’m getting ahead of myself. This is a story for when the others get here.”

  Before Laif could say anything, his aunt went on, “Oh, where are my manners? Come in, come in.”

  Memphis just stood there as Fiona turned on her heels to invite them into her home. Laif looked at her and shrugged, because really, what else was there to do? They had come all this way for answers, and it seemed like Fiona would have no problems providing them.

  Callan, years wiser than his age, said, “What are we waiting for? It seems to me like she’s okay with us being here. Not what I expected, but hey, if the rest of them are as nice as her, then it won’t be so bad.”