Chapter 5
“Sweetheart, wake up.” Donovan traced the line of Valerie’s jaw with the tips of his fingers as he tried to rouse her.
She was awake. He could tell just by the tension in her features and the cadence of her breath. She was awake, but pretending to be asleep because she didn’t want to deal with him. His chest ached at the thought. It had been six days since she’d come home from the hospital and so far she’d pulled deeper inside of herself.
“Valerie. I know you’re awake. I’m going for a run. Call me if you need anything.”
Still, she ignored him. Pressing a kiss to her temple, his breath caught when she tensed. He pulled away, steeling his heart and reminding himself this was temporary. He’d get her back, they’d be okay. He just needed to wait it out and be there for her.
As his feet hit the pavement, he focused on the music blasting through his headphones and the jolt up his legs with every stride. He couldn’t let his thoughts drift to what had happened. Couldn’t let himself picture his wife in the hospital bed, pale and tired. He ran until his lungs burned and his shirt was wet with sweat, and eight miles later he found himself standing outside the door to the Peters home.
How had he ended up here? He didn’t know what to do to help his wife, and clearly his mind was on her even when he didn’t want it to be. Settling himself on the porch swing, he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. He stared at the chipping paint on the slats of decking that made up the wrap-around porch. If he couldn’t help Valerie, at least he could fix this.
Standing, he walked around to the back of the house to find Hank’s storage shed. It was unlocked, as usual, and in minutes, Donovan had a sander, mask, and paint. He cleared the porch of furniture and got to work. Ten minutes into sanding, he caught sight of Hank Peters, standing in the driveway with a mug of coffee and a puzzled expression on his face.
Donovan turned off the sander and removed his mask, raising to his full height on aching knees. Damn, he should have looked for knee pads in the shed.
“Hank.”
“What in the world are you doing, son?”
Running a hand through his hair, Donovan shrugged. “Paint was chipping pretty bad.”
“So you thought you’d come over at nine in the morning and take care of that for me?”
He shrugged again.
Hank frowned at his mug before finishing the coffee in one long swallow. “I’ll be out in a few minutes. We can get this done in a few hours rather than you working all damn day.”
With a curt nod, Donovan turned back to the deck and got to his knees, starting the machine again. Soon he was joined by Hank as well as his brother-in-law, Brandon. They worked silently until Donovan’s arms were numb from the vibrations of the sander and the deck was smooth and ready for paint.
“All right, Donovan. Let’s take a break and talk about what brought you to my door without my daughter and has you looking like someone chewed you up and spit you out.”
Hank opened the door and walked inside, Brandon following behind as Donovan fought the urge to bare his soul at his father-in-law’s feet. “I’m fine, Hank.”
The older man offered a slight smile, but his eyes held sadness. “Boy, you are so far from fine. And if I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a hundred damn times. Call me Dad.”
“Dad.” Donovan tried the word, unsure of how he felt. The only man he’d called Dad had been the worst man he’d ever known. It seemed unfair to associate the same name to a man he admired as much as he did Hank.
“Come on inside. It’s almost lunchtime. I think I can pull together some sandwiches.”
They wandered to the kitchen, Hank pulling out bread and cheese while Donovan tried to work out what to say.
“Where’s Kelly?”
“Oh, she’s away on a visit with Riley. This is his first time living off campus and she’s having a hard time letting him go.” Hank slapped some lunchmeat on a piece of bread and turned back to the refrigerator. “You know, Valerie won’t talk to her . . . about what happened.”
And here it was. Leave it to Hank to broach the subject for him. “She won’t talk to anyone.”
“That’s not surprising. My girl is stubborn and she’s never been one to ask for pity. She gets that from her mother.”
“She’s pulling away from me,” Donovan admitted.
Nodding, Hank spread some mustard across the slices of bread. “You know, when Simon died I had two women who are exactly the same living in my house. Both of them retreated, refused to talk, and I just had to sit back and watch for opportunities to pull them back to me. Kelly came back because of the kids, I didn’t do a damn thing. And then my wife brought Valerie back. I wish I had some words that would magically snap her out of it, but I think you’re just going to have to wait it out.”
“That’s what I thought.”
They ate in silence until their plates were empty. Hank clapped him on the shoulder and said, “Okay, you need to get home. Brandon and I can finish up here.”
“But, it’s only half-done.”
“My daughter needs her husband more than I need a painted deck.”
Nodding, Donovan headed outside.
“Son, did you run all the way here?” Hank’s words were laced with disbelief.
Donovan shrugged.
“You need a ride?”
With a slight grin, Donovan shook his head. “No thanks, Dad. I’m good.”
~ ~ ~
Valerie stood in the shower, the hot water beating down on her shoulders as she tried to feel something, anything other than the crushing numbness which had become her constant companion. Leaning against the tile wall, she slid down until she sat curled up with her knees to her chest. Her breaths came as empty sobs and all she wanted was for things to go back to the way they were. If she’d only been open to the idea of having kids, this wouldn’t have happened.
It wasn’t until the water stopped hammering her back that she realized the stream had turned frigid and she was shivering.
“Jesus, sweetheart. Your lips are fucking blue.” Donovan’s voice broke through her haze as he draped a towel around her and pulled her out of the shower.
He pressed his lips to her temple while rubbing the fluffy cotton over her skin. She wanted to want him and wished she felt something other than irrational anger. But his worry, his need to take care of her, just made her feel helpless.
Shrugging out of his arms even as her body trembled with cold, she snatched her robe off the hook on the door. “I’m fine.”
“Come here, let me help you get warm. Didn’t you notice the hot water was gone?”
He reached for her, his fingers grazing her shoulders. Panic clawed at her throat at the contact even through the fabric covering her. Tearing herself away, she scuttled backward and turned, unable to meet his gaze.
“Sweetheart . . .”
“Stop it, Donovan. Stop touching me, stop being sweet. Just leave me the hell alone.”
His sharp intake of breath registered faintly, but she just needed him gone. Every word from his mouth was a reminder of her failure as his wife. How could they make it through this? They’d always planned on a big family and now she couldn’t even give him one child. And the look in his eyes every time he touched her or even came into the room was so filled with pity she wanted to scream.
“Let me be there for you. I can’t help if you won’t let me.”
“I don’t want you to help me.”
“Why? I’m your husband. It’s my job.”
Shaking her head, she dropped her robe to the floor, standing completely nude in front of him. Just as she’d thought, there wasn’t even a flare of heat in his eyes. All he saw was a pathetic victim needing to be treated with care. Pulling a loose-fitting shirt over her head, she winced as she realized it was one of Donovan’s old GBFD shirts. After stepping into a pair of yoga pants, she ripped off the shirt and tossed it on the bed.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“It’s your shirt.”
“You wear that shirt more than me.” The hurt in his voice chipped away at the wall she was hiding behind.
Choosing another top, she covered herself. “Is there something wrong with me wearing my own fucking clothes, Donovan?”
His big shoulders slumped as he sighed. “No. Nothing wrong with that. I’ve got some studying to do. Do you need anything before I start?”
“I’m fine.” She snapped at him and wished she could regret the tone, but all she wanted was to be alone.
Before she could stop him, her husband strode across the room, took her face between his hands, and pressed a kiss to her forehead. Then he left her alone with her thoughts, her anxiety, and her numbness.
~ ~ ~
Donovan woke to the soft sound of infomercials filtering through the slightly opened bedroom door. Glancing at the bedside table, he sighed as he read the clock. Two-forty-five in the damned morning. Was Valerie awake or had she fallen asleep on the couch—again? Her pillow was missing from her side of the bed. At least she’d come in here for a short while. Her blankets were ruffled, and her phone sat on her nightstand, charging as it did each night. That was progress from their tense exchanges over the last ten days since she’d come home.
He almost let himself fall back to the welcoming peace of sleep, but this had to stop. His wife was struggling. Tossing the quilt aside, he got out of bed and padded into the living room. She sat on the couch, laptop resting on her thighs.
“What are you doing, Valerie? It’s the middle of the goddamn night.”
Her shoulders tensed as he spoke, and she shut the computer before he could get a good look at the screen.
“Nothing. I couldn’t sleep. I was just doing some mindless research.”
“About what?”
She shrugged and shoved the laptop to the far end of the couch. “Did I wake you?” Blinking up at him, she offered a weak smile, her tactless subject change something he chose to ignore.
“No. I just woke up. Then, when I realized you weren’t in bed, I decided to come get you.”
Another slight smile spread her lips. The first true hint of emotion from her in over a week.
“There’s a smile. I’d been wondering if you’d forgotten how to do that.”
The moment the words left his lips he wished there was a hole in the ground that would swallow him. Her face paled, expression darkening.
“I’m going to sleep in the guest room so I don’t bother you.” Her tone said it all. He’d hurt her, sticking his big dumb foot in his mouth as always.
“Sweetheart, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”
“I know exactly what you meant.”
His gut clenched as her icy glare landed on him.
“Donovan, I get that you’re trying to be the dutiful husband, but this hovering isn’t helping. I need space. Every time you look at me I see those five kids we wanted. I see them and realize I’ll never be able to give them to you.”
His heart broke for the sadness in her eyes. “It wasn’t your fault.”
“I know that. But, it doesn’t change the fact that because I didn’t want kids yet, we ended up not able to have them at all.”
Gripping her arms, he tried to pull her close, but she refused to come. “This has nothing to do with you wanting to wait.”
“It does. There’s a higher risk of ectopic pregnancy with this kind of birth control. If I’d paid closer attention . . . recognized the pregnancy symptoms sooner, I could have prevented this. Instead, I let myself nearly die.”
That hit him like a punch to the gut. She knew this could happen but did it anyway? Pushing through his own pain, he forced himself to ignore the frustration, the desire to place blame. That’s not what she needed, and there wasn’t anything to be done about it now.
“I’m not going to lie, sweetheart. It was scary as hell. But you’ve got to stop blaming yourself and come back to me.” He closed the distance between them and tilted her chin. “I miss my wife.”
Holding her close, he stared across the room at their wedding photo. It felt like she was a ghost, fading from view with every day that passed. Her admission still tumbled around in his brain. Had this been preventable? If they’d stuck to condoms, would they be in this situation now?
“Come on. Let’s go back to bed. You’re not sleeping in the fucking guest room. I want you with me, where you belong,”
Grabbing her under the knees, he scooped her into his arms and the tightness in his chest loosened a fraction when she didn’t fight him. Falling asleep with her in his arms felt right. They would get through this.
~ ~ ~
As the days passed, Donovan saw the woman he loved begin to return in bits and pieces. Things remained tense between them, but she no longer spent hours on the couch in silence. She’d started yoga again, spent time with her sister and Lena, but whenever she came home from seeing them, her mood drifted back to that dark place. The place he couldn’t reach her.
He’d spent the better part of three weeks with her, doing his best to show her he was right there. It had been hard to get so much time off, but hell if he was going to let her go it alone for days at a time.
Stepping out of the shower, he wrapped a towel around his waist, heart picking up speed as he thought about leaving her for the first time since her surgery. He had to go back to work. There was no question. But just as she wasn’t herself, he felt off as well. He couldn’t bear the thought of something happening to her again. Shaking his head, he took a deep breath and headed through the door and into the bedroom.
As he dressed for duty, the soft murmur of Valerie’s voice caught his ear.
“I know, Lena. But this is different.” She paused, silence weighing on him as he listened for more. “I can’t do that and you know it.” More silence followed. He felt guilty for eavesdropping, but the urgency in her tone made him desperate to know what the fuck was going on. “I’ve been researching places. Don’t tell Michael.” She sighed. “Because he’ll tell Donovan. I want to keep this quiet as long as I can. It’s the best thing for both of us.”
His heart pounded so hard he thought it might stop. Her voice hadn’t sounded excited, like it might if she were planning a surprise.
She sounded resigned.
She was leaving him.
Stepping out of the bedroom, he put on a confident smile and walked toward the kitchen, unwilling to meet her gaze.
“I’ll talk to you later, Lena.” Valerie hung up the phone and sighed. “First day back? How are you feeling about it? I know I’m excited to see my kids tomorrow.”
What the fuck? She had just been planning her escape from him, but now she wanted to be conversational?
Shrugging, he poured a cup of coffee. “It is what it is.”
“I hope it doesn’t mess with your lieutenant exam. You know, being here with me for so long.”
The hair on the back of his neck stood up. Why would she care?
“It’s fine. I was needed here.”
Warm hands slid around his waist, making him flinch. He couldn’t contain the sigh that escaped him when she pressed herself against his back, settling her cheek just between his shoulder blades. It felt so damn good to be touched by her.
“I’m sorry I’ve been so distant. I just . . . needed time.” Her voice sent knives through his heart. If she was leaving, why do this?
Turning, he grabbed her hips and pulled her into his arms. He held on for dear life. Hoping desperately that what he’d heard had been something else.
Her fingers gripped the back of his shirt, digging into his skin. She tilted her face up, making a soft noise of frustration as her lips grazed his chin.
“Donovan, kiss me, please?”
His need for her eclipsed the desire to protect himself. Still unable to allow himself to look into her eyes, he dipped his lips to hers. The moment their mouths touched, a fire lit inside him. He wouldn’t let her go, not without one hell of a fight.
She melted into him, all moans and harsh breaths as the kiss deepened and the passion they’d once shared began to build.
“God, hotshot. I need you.”
Her breathy plea sent him into overdrive. In an instant, he’d opened her robe, baring her skin to the chill of the air. Her nipples pebbled, making it impossible for him to keep his hands off her.
Brushing his fingers over the soft swells of her firm breasts, he smiled at the gasp that came from her. The robe fluttered to the floor as he focused on worshiping her. He trailed his hands down her sides and around her tiny waist, cupping her ass and lifting her. Spinning them until he could settle her on the counter, he worked to keep his attention on loving her, not worrying about their future.
“Jesus, sweetheart. I’ve missed the way your hands feel on my skin.”
As if in answer, she wrapped her legs around his hips and pulled him to her. Her fingers tugged at his shirt until he pulled it over his head and the blue fabric added to the growing pile on the floor. A shiver ran through him as she ran her nails over his defined abdominals, trailing down until they reached his belt.
Her lips found his one tattoo, kissing the ink over his heart as she worked the leather belt open and her nimble fingers unzipped his pants. When she found him under his boxer briefs, hard and aching for her, she hesitated. Swallowing, he pushed through the haze of lust.
“If you’re not ready—”
She stopped him with a shake of her head as she stroked his length.
“Oh, fuck that feels good.”
The look of concentration on her face confused him. Did she really want this? But then her hand left his erection and she gripped him by the back of the neck, pulling him down until his lips were a breath away from hers.
“Fuck me, Donovan.”
Her request gave him pause as he remembered a night she’d uttered those same words just before breaking him. But, as she tightened her legs around him and ground herself on his throbbing cock, he couldn’t focus on anything but her.
“Anything you want, sweetheart. I’m yours.”
This time he locked eyes with her and the flare of surprise in her wide blue irises as he slipped his fingers past the barrier of her panties made him groan. She was hot and slick, ready for him.
“You’re so fucking wet.”
Heat filled her gaze as he moved his fingers in and out.
“My body always wants yours.”
Shoving his pants and boxers down his hips, he freed his erection, desperate to get inside her. He hooked his fingers in the band at the top of her underwear and without prompting, she lifted her hips high enough for him to roll the plain white cotton down her legs.
“Open for me,” he demanded.
As soon as she did what he asked, he was poised at her entrance, pressing inside. A fleeting thought that he was bare ran through his mind, but was quickly replaced by the grief of the last few weeks. There was no risk. That had been extinguished along with some unknown connection between them,
“What are you waiting for?” Her question was laced with frustration.
Forcing his thoughts back to the present, he sank inside her warmth, knowing with every breath, every moan, every keening cry, this could be the one insurmountable obstacle between them if they let it.
~ ~ ~
A full week of teaching under her belt, Valerie was finally starting to feel like her old self. She and Donovan had been slowly mending, but they hadn’t fully closed the gap between them. She couldn’t figure out why he hadn’t touched her since their passionate morning over a week earlier. Staring at the mostly packed bag on their bed, she sighed and placed the last of her toiletries inside and closed the top.
The front door closed, the sound sending a wash of excitement through her. Donovan was home. His heavy footsteps grew close as he followed his usual path to their room for the shower he always took after a twenty-four-hour shift.
“Are you going somewhere?” His voice held a hint of anger as he stood in the doorway, eyes narrowed.
She couldn’t contain her smile. “Yes.”
“You planning on telling me about it?”
“Nope.”
He raked a hand through his hair and blew out a breath. “I don’t know what—”
“It’s a surprise. Go shower and I’ll make us some breakfast before we leave.”
That guarded look on his face changed into one of relief. “A surprise, huh?”
Nodding, she crossed the room and raised up onto her toes to brush a soft kiss across his lips. Before she could move away, he had her crushed to him, one arm tight around her waist while his free hand cupped the back of her head. His kiss was fierce, needy, and heated, but just as the passion began to take control of her senses, he released her. With a cocky wink, he strolled through the bedroom and into the master bath.
Breaths coming in short gasps, she leaned back against the doorframe. “I’ll . . . uh, I’ll be in the kitchen,” she murmured to the empty room.
Damn, but the man knew how to rile her up.
Ten minutes later, he stood beside her, pouring coffee into two mugs while she put the finishing touches on their scrambled eggs. It was like nothing bad had ever happened, except for the invisible barrier of tension between them.
“So, where are we going?” he asked as he slid her mug toward her.
“Not telling.”
“But we’re staying overnight?”
Her stomach flipped at the huskiness in his voice. “We are.”
She jumped when his lips brushed the bare skin of her neck and his hand slid across her ass. “I love you. You know that, right?”
Heart aching that he even thought he needed to ask, she took a long, deep breath. Leaning back against him, she nodded. Her throat was too tight to get words out.
“Okay. Just so we’re clear.” His breath on her skin as he spoke sent tingles down her spine. “I’m here. I want to work on this—on us.”
“That’s what the surprise is for.”
He rested his chin atop her head, holding her so tightly she could feel the hammering of his heart against her back. “Then let’s get to it.”