“Because,” he bent his head toward mine so I had nowhere else to look but into his eyes, “I fucked up. I let what’s happened to me in the past make me forget who I am.”
“And who are you?”
Braden tugged me into him and I rested my trembling hands on his chest. I felt the pounding beat of his heart beneath my palm. “I’m the kind of man who fights for what he wants. And I want you, babe. I love you. You’re mine. I know that deep in my very bones. Fuck, Jocelyn, if I let you go, I’d regret it my whole life, and what kind of lesson is that for my kid, eh?” He gripped my waist so tight it was almost bruising. “I will do anything to make this up to you. Anything. Because the idea that I hurt you, that I left you to go through this shit alone rips me upside. Jesus, babe, I never knew it could feel like this.”
His words made me breathless and all I could see, hear, and feel was his passion. It took me a moment to see his fear, too.
He thought I’d turn him away.
“Braden …” I laughed softly. “You got on a goddamn plane to Virginia. As far as grand gestures go, that works for me.”
He laughed and then he was kissing me in a way that was entirely inappropriate considering our surroundings.
I broke away reluctantly and rested my forehead on his chest. “I couldn’t make myself go in to see them.”
At the gentle touch of his fingers on my chin, I lifted my head.
Fierce love and support shone out of him. “That’s why I’m here. We’ll go in together, and if you’re up for it, you can tell me everything.”
That’s how I found myself standing at my family’s graveside on a cool Wednesday afternoon, crying softly as I told Braden about how they died. Once I was done, I knelt and I sobbed my apologies to my parents.
It hurt so badly, I wanted to die.
But then Braden was there, holding me through it, and I could breathe again. The pain was as agonizing as it had been the day I buried them, but I let it wash over me, knowing that I’d get through it.
***
That night Braden made love to me.
And I let him.
As he looked into my eyes while he moved inside of me, I knew he could see right into my soul. Although it still made me a little breathless, I didn’t panic. He could see who I was and he still wanted to be with me.
Afterward, I lay in his arms and talked about my family. I told him about the passionate relationship between my mom and dad, about my adoration for my little sister Beth.
And I told him about my best friend Dru who drowned when we were sixteen after a fight we’d had over a boy.
I wanted him to have it all.
I wanted him to know why it was so hard for me to let someone close.
“I’m terrified of losing you,” I’d whispered.
“Well, rest easy, babe, because I’m going to do my damnedest to make sure that’s something you never have to worry about.”
As the night drifted onward, Braden gave me more of him, too. He told me a lot about his father, his mother, a tragic incident with an old girlfriend, all the things that made him tick and made him who he was. We ended on Abby. He told me all about what was going on in her young life, about her favorite color, her love of books, how she’d written a short story … how much he knew she’d love me. He apologized for holding her up as a barrier between us, but I told him that was the one part of our separation that I understood. It hadn’t been easy for me but I understood.
I promised I would never hurt them.
He promised me he would trust me.
The sun was peeking through the hotel curtains when we finally drifted off to sleep.
When I awoke that afternoon, we were still in each other’s arms.
It was the first time I’d ever slept with someone.
The thought made me breathless. I felt the ominous prickle on my skin but I gripped on tighter to Braden and fought down the panic attack.
I breathed in and out, slowly, surely.
And when I was through it, I felt the sweet touch of his lips on my shoulder.
The Review
I stood, feeling weirdly nervous, as I watched Braden read the final page of my manuscript.
He reached the end and placed it on my desk, staring at it.
Not saying anything.
Finally, I lost my patience. “Well?”
“Fuck.” He startled, turning to look at me. “When did you come back?”
“Five minutes ago.” I strode toward him. “Well? What did you think?”
He frowned up at me. “It was well-written like everything you write.”
Irritated, I sighed. “That’s not what I was asking.”
Braden stood up from the chair and walked past me toward the door. “Well, that’s what I thought.”
Not liking his evasiveness one bit, that little knot tightened in my stomach, the one I used to get when I stupidly read one-star reviews of my books. “You didn’t like it.”
My husband turned back to me. “I don’t want to argue with you.”
“Oh well, then, yeah, that means you loved it.”
He narrowed his eyes at my sarcasm. “Jocelyn.”
“Just tell me. Christ, Braden, you had no problem telling me my mac and cheese sucks.”
And that’s when I noticed the spark of something in his eyes, the spark he was trying to hide.
He was pissed.
“Are you upset?” I said, incredulous.
That was all he needed to let me have it. “How the fuck else am I supposed to feel?”
I flinched at his yell. “What the hell?”
But instead of answering, he slammed out of my office.
No. No way!
I slammed out after him, chasing him as he lunged much faster than I could with my shorter legs upstairs. “The least you can do is explain why you’re so mad?”
“I think that would be obvious.”
“Are you and Dad fighting?” Beth popped her head out of her room.
“Go downstairs and sit with your brother.”
For once, my kid didn’t argue with me. Braden and I rarely fought but when we did, it could get explosive. As Beth hurried downstairs, not looking at all worried that her parents were mad at each other, I hurried up to the third floor.
I barged into my bedroom and found Braden waiting for me, arms crossed over his chest, face dark.
“I’m confused!” I threw my hands up. Of all the reactions to this novella I was expecting, a tantrum wasn’t one of them.
“Confused?” he practically growled. “What’s so confusing about the fact that you rewrote our love story and I find that apparently you don’t fucking know me at all?”
“Okay, less of the F-bombs,” I said in my mom voice.
“The kids can’t hear us. That’s why I came up here so that when I murder you, they can’t testify in court.”
I smirked because that was funny. “Braden, seriously, it’s a story. Your reaction is irrational.”
“Maybe it is,” he agreed, “but Jesus, Jocelyn, in what reality would I ever not choose you?”
“But it’s just a story! And you did choose me. You flew to Virginia in it for me.” I hurried toward him, wrapping my arms around his waist. “Baby, the point of the story was that no matter what I really believe, we were meant to be together. And you know better than anyone that circumstances change a person. We aren’t the same people we were when we met. If we met now, things wouldn’t play out the same way they did then.”
“I would never stand there while you told me you loved me and not say it back.”
“Why are you so upset about this?”
“Because.” He cupped my face, bringing his lips close to mine. “I thought you knew that I love you beyond reason.”
I melted into him. “You big romantic idiot. I do know that. But I also know that you love your kids beyond sanity.”
He nodded. “True, but—”
“Pretend for a second that Beth isn’t mine, just yours.”
“That’s hard to do considering she’s your clone.”
I laughed. “Yes, but try. Beth is yours and … Holly’s.”
“Who the hell is Holly?”
Amusement flooded me and my body shook against his. “Your ex-girlfriend.”
“Really?”
“You were dating her when we met. You dumped her to get into my pants.”
“I did?”
“Yes. You did. Anyway, we’ve never met, Beth is your kid, Holly is a mess, and you meet me. Think about how you feel about Beth. Wouldn’t you do anything to protect her?”
I knew when he stopped being pissed because he relaxed into me. “I get it. A little.” He kissed me softly. “But that doesn’t mean I like your story.”