Anna

Sean watched from the door of the guest room as I sorted through Willow’s suitcase. 

We’d stopped by my house—Dean’s house—on the way here. And like a thief, I’d hastily packed a couple of bags, jumping at every noise.

And now, as I sat in front of Willow’s small rollaway, I realized I didn’t bring any of her nightclothes. 

Stupid.

It’s not like we needed much. Only enough for a few days. A week tops.

I’d heard Sean on the phone making arrangements to fly to Los Angeles. And as soon as he left, so would I.

As I closed the flap on the suitcase, Sean said, “You can use the drawers, you know.” 

The Victorian dresser, polished cherry wood with beautiful clawed feet and brass handles, sat like a monument against the wall. I was afraid to touch the damn thing, let alone store Willow’s clothes in there. 

Clutching one of my old T-shirts and Willow’s little pink underwear to my chest, I gave Sean a nervous smile. “This is fine.” 

His jaw torqued as he stared at me. “Okay.” 

Willow sat on the bed, quiet as a mouse. I thought she might be a little dazed, but when I held out my arms, she jumped to her feet and started bouncing on the mattress.

Cringing, I turned to Sean to apologize, but he wasn’t there. 

I shook my head at Willow, and she stopped, then flung herself at me, dangling from my neck like a little monkey. 

A half hour later, I pulled her slippery body from the bathtub. 

“No! No! No!” she protested, arms and legs flailing as she tried to claw her way out of my arms. 

Normally Willow hated bath time, but the garden tub in the adjoining bathroom was large enough to swim in.

The one in Sean’s room was even bigger. Thank God she didn’t see that.

“Willow,” I said sternly as I tried to wrap her in a towel. “Stop squirming. You can take another bath tomorrow.” 

Without the benefit of her hearing aids, Willow couldn’t hear me. But my tone should’ve been enough. It wasn’t. The back of her head collided with my nose, and I saw stars. Reeling backward, I fell straight into Sean’s arms.

He chuckled, his hands settling on my hips as I looked up at him with watery eyes. 

“She really likes her bath, huh?”

I sniffed, sure my nose would start gushing any second. “Not usually.” 

Spinning toward the mirror, with Willow still attached, I checked for blood. But it was my daughter’s blue eyes meeting Sean’s in the reflection that had my full attention. I swear something passed between them. 

In all the years of Willow’s life, Dean had never looked at her that way. And I knew it had nothing to do with flesh and blood. After the trouble I had delivering Willow, Dean was all on board with adoption. 

I guess that’s when he started withdrawing from me, from Willow, when I nixed the idea of another child. Dean saw it as a betrayal. And a defeat. Proof that I’d never love him enough to commit to a life together. And in the end, I guess he was right. 

Willow was quiet now, staring at her father, beguiled, like every other damn female on the planet. After securing the towel around her little body, I turned and impulsively held her out like a sack of potatoes. 

Real smooth, Anna. 

“Hold her for a sec, could you?”

Sean took a step back, even as he reached for her. 

His eyes met mine, panic sparking in the silver threads. “Are you sure?”

Hell no, I wasn’t sure. I only knew that Willow was curious and Sean looked almost desperate for contact. It was a perfect combination, because really, she was a toddler. And I didn’t want their first touch to end in her screaming and him cringing. 

Gingerly, Sean took Willow from my arms, holding her like she was made of glass. 

Under the guise of wiping the mascara smudges off my cheeks, I grabbed a tissue and then turned back to the mirror, all the while vigilantly watching their exchange. 

Willow reached up, tiny hands fisting Sean’s hair. She gave the long strands a tug, thoroughly pleased with herself. Far from put out, Sean relaxed and made a face, like he intrinsically knew how to communicate with our daughter, to break the barrier created by her hearing loss. 

My heart swelled, only to deflate when his phone rang. Logan’s ringtone, “Come As You Are,” the Nirvana anthem, echoed off the high ceilings. All these years and Sean hadn’t changed it. 

“Let me have her.” Sean reflexively pulled Willow closer when I held out my arms. I smiled. “Your phone. Lo’s calling.” 

The room went silent as the music stopped. 

“I’ll call him back.” Sean gazed down at his daughter and then up at me. “What’s next?”

His eyes wandered to my breasts before snapping back to my face.

I hadn’t seen Sean blush since the first time he saw me naked when we were sixteen, but his cheeks were certainly red now. I guess staring at my boobs while holding our child was a little too confusing for him. Though, if things would’ve worked out the way they were supposed to, the way he’d promised, Sean would’ve known the two weren’t connected in the least. 

“Jammies,” I said. “Then bed.” 

Bed. 

Sleep. 

My limbs were jelly, and all I wanted was crisp sheets and a soft pillow. That is until my arm brushed Sean’s on the way out of the room. Every nerve in my body came to life at the contact, and cursing my erect nipples poking the hell out of my thin cotton T-shirt, I hauled ass before Sean noticed.

“Should we, I mean you, dry her hair?” Sean asked from his perch on the edge of the bed. His eyes found mine, and again, I was floored by all the questions swimming in the blue depths. An ocean of concerns. “I don’t want her to get sick.”

“That’s an old wives’ tale. People get sick from bacteria.” Or in Willow’s case—dust, pollen, smoke, and about a hundred other things. But I didn’t want to freak Sean out. I held up a small hairbrush. “But I do have to get the knots out.” 

I lifted her from Sean’s hold, and neither of them seemed happy about it. After slipping the T-shirt over Willow’s head, I settled her on my lap and began to brush her wavy locks.

Sean hissed a breath when she whimpered. Willow noticed it too, not the sound but the painful grimace as his lips pulled back. She whimpered louder and got the same result. 

“She’s only doing that because you keep making those faces,” I advised Sean in a tone too low for the little manipulator to hear. “I’m not hurting her.”

“It doesn’t sound like she’s having a good time,” Sean countered, folding his arms over his chest.

Resisting the urge to shoot him a look, which would only give Willow more reason to squirm, I said, “I need to settle her down. We’ll talk in the morning.” 

Dead silence hung between us, and when I chanced a peek, Sean was staring at me. “You’re not going to . . .” He frowned, then amended, “You’re sleeping in here?” 

Despite my aching nipples and the tightening in my belly, I nodded. “Yeah.” 

When I stood with Willow in my arms, Sean pulled the sheet back. He molded his palm to my hip as I tucked Willow between the covers, and I could feel the questions in his touch, the sexual tension that was always there. His hand fell away as I followed Willow under the blanket. 

I met his confused gaze, which quickly morphed into something else. Resignation? 

Brushing his lips against my forehead, he murmured. “Night, Anna-baby.” 

He touched Willow’s hair but stopped short of a kiss. 

And then he was gone, and the room was dark, and for the first time, falling asleep with my daughter in my arms wasn’t enough. 

An hour later, I slid out of bed to take a shower. That was the routine, get Willow to sleep and then tend to my own needs. I hadn’t explained that to Sean. But after I dried off and applied some baby lotion, I tiptoed to his room. He’d stowed my suitcase in there, and at the time I didn’t object, but now I needed my toothbrush.

At the door, I heard music playing softly. Chris Cornell’s “Can’t Change Me” spilled into the dark hallway. My heart broke as I listened, the lyrics forming on my lips. Sean lived through music. And that song told me everything he couldn’t. Sean wasn’t changing.

I considered going back to bed, but then his voice rose over the music. “I don’t care what you think.” And then a pause. “I am taking care of Anna, believe that.” 

Hearing my name, I turned the doorknob and stumbled into the room. 

Phone pressed to his ear, Sean’s gaze crawled over me from tip to toe. Our eyes met, and a tempting smile curved his lips. 

And that’s how I found myself in his bathroom brushing my teeth. I didn’t want to eavesdrop, or rather, I wouldn’t allow myself to listen. But for some reason, I couldn’t find the will to grab my bag and leave.

I flipped the switch on my way out, and to my confusion the bedroom was dark. 

Muted light from a small, frosted bulb mounted on Sean’s massive headboard outlined his body.

“Come here, Anna-baby,” he said, voice rumbling above the music that still played. 

I made my way to the side of the bed, and I could see him clearly now, my eyes adjusted to the dark. He was on his side, sheet low on his waist, all that luscious ink shading his sculpted chest. 

His hand curled around my leg, just above my knee. “Is she asleep?”

“Yeah. Out like a light.” 

His palm skimmed over my thigh, under my baby doll nightgown, and came to rest on my ass. “I don’t know where the line is, Anna.” He gave me a gentle squeeze. “Help me out?”

I should be concerned about helping myself out. Out of this room, where the scent of him surrounded me, and the feel of his skin made me think stupid thoughts. But no, that would require more will power than I currently possessed. 

Dropping a knee onto the mattress, I said, “You haven’t crossed it yet.” 

In a heartbeat, I was on my back, Sean’s hands in my hair and his lips on my throat. “You still use the same shampoo. I fucking love that shampoo.” 

I giggled, and he pulled away, his long hair tickling my heated skin. “What’s funny?” 

“Nothing.” 

Everything.

I didn’t have time to ponder the meaning of life or how I got here, because Sean’s lips were on me again, blazing a trail to the square of lace covering my breasts. 

I groaned, arching into him as his mouth closed around my nipple, still trapped beneath the fabric. The extra friction sent a shock straight to my core. 

He swept away the strap on the opposite shoulder, and when my sensitive skin met the rush of air from the ceiling fan, my nipple pebbled immediately. I felt him smile as he twisted the stiff peak, just enough. 

“Fuck,” I hissed. 

A throaty laugh. “Yeah, that’s what I had in mind too.” His fingers dipped into my panties, and parting my folds, he grazed my needy bud. “But I want to taste you first.” 

Who was I to object? It’s not like anyone had spent an inordinate amount of time between my thighs in the last four years. And that was my fault too. 

Before I got lost in my head, in the guilt that contoured all the empty spaces where only Sean had ever dwelled, his breath was on my belly. 

Sean yanked my panties down with a jerk, and the dainty seams ripped. He looked up, smiling. “Sorry.” 

He wasn’t sorry. Not a bit. 

“It’s okay. I can buy some . . . oh God . . .”

I gripped his hair as his tongue explored. He was inside and outside and everywhere all at once. Two fingers slipped inside my channel, filling me. 

“Eyes, Anna.” The command held no weight until he pulled away. And then my lids flew open, and I met his gaze. “Good girl.” 

Sean’s eyes never left mine as his mouth closed over my clit. I could drift in those blue oceans forever. But we didn’t have forever. We had now. Something about that notion pushed me to the edge, and I shattered, a silent surrender, gritting my teeth to keep from calling his name. 

When he continued to work me, I shook my head. “I can’t . . . I can’t . . .” 

And then Sean found that spot that assured he’d get his wish. This time, I couldn’t hold it in. His name escaped in a rush as I came. And came. 

Sean kissed my quivering belly and both breasts on his way up, and I shuddered involuntarily.

Fumbling around under the pillow, he waggled his brows when he showed me the condom. 

I laughed, but it came out a snort because I hadn’t caught my breath.

After Sean slid the latex in place, his fingers dove into my hair, and sealing his mouth over mine, he rolled onto his back with me on top. 

With wobbly arms, I pushed myself up, straddling him. I knew what he wanted. I always knew.

“Ride me, baby,” he roughed out. “Slow.”

I dropped my gaze to his cock, moving a fraction until his tip nudged my entrance.

Sinking onto him with a groan, I squeezed my eyes shut, reveling in the feel of him, hard inside me. 

Sean gripped my waist, his fingers digging into my flesh with just enough pressure to cause a little pain. 

“Look at me, Anna.” 

My heart cracked at the request. Sean had never been so insistent on seeing my eyes in the past.

“Why?” I gritted out, wondering whose gaze he sought. “What are you looking for?” 

He traced a finger over my jaw. “You. Always you.”