Chapter 9

Jake

“Of course.” I get up and shut the door behind her. She’s not here to talk about the weather, so I guess we’re going to need some privacy.

We stand there for the longest time, just staring into each other’s eyes, and I swear she’s feeling the same thing I am. Please, God, let her feel the same.

She starts to talk, gesturing nervously. “Back in the conference room, when you kissed me—”

“Yeah?” This is it. She’s either going to make my day or crush me.

She looks away, so uncertain it breaks my heart. “I’m not sure… what that meant.”

I catch her hand and bring it to my chest, pressing it directly over my heart which is slamming against my ribs. With my other hand, I reach out to cup her cheek.

She closes her eyes and leans into my touch with an audible sigh.

I take a deep breath and let it out slowly, forcing myself to remain calm when I’m feeling anything but calm on the inside. “Elliot, I’ll be honest. I don’t fully understand what happened to us… back then. All I know is that I never stopped loving you. Not for a second. I’ll love you until the day I die.”

When she opens her eyes, they’re glittering with tears, and I feel my own throat tighten with emotion.

I lift her hand to my mouth and kiss the back of it, just like I used to do, marveling at the softness of her skin and breathing in her familiar scent. “Look, I don’t blame you for wanting to date other guys in college. You were so young, and you had your whole life ahead of you. I totally get it—” I stop mid-sentence when I see the look of utter shock and confusion on her face. She’s staring at me like I just told her the Earth is flat.

She shakes her head. “What are you talking about? I never wanted to date other guys in college. I never wanted to date anyone other than you.” She looks absolutely thunderstruck.

Her father’s words replay in my head. All the times he told me she wanted to date other guys. That she’d decided she was too young to settle down. Finally, that she’d moved on. Jesus Christ, he played me. And like an idiot, I fell for it. Damn, we have a lot to talk about.

“If it wasn’t that,” I say, “then why did you stop taking my calls?”

“What do you mean, why did I stop?” She breaks off, looking… furious. Resentful.

“It’s not a hard question, Elliot.”

Her expression tightens in anger. “Because… you—you know why! I knew, Jake! I knew about the girl. My dad told me.”

My stomach sinks. It looks like I wasn’t the only one who got played. “What girl? What did your dad tell you?”

“He told me all about your girlfriend. My parents told me they saw you with a girl, and that she was obviously pregnant. And soon after, you left to join the military.”

My vision goes red, and I want to strike out at something… preferably Frank Elliot’s head. I pull away from Annie and start pacing, charged up with so much frustration and anger I can’t see straight. Jesus Christ, they played us! Her fucking parents played us both! And like a couple of naïve kids, we fell for it.

“Don’t you see what they did?” I say, gritting my teeth so hard I’m afraid they’ll crack. “Your parents lied to us, to both of us! Your dad told me you wanted to date other guys at school. And your parents told you I got some girl pregnant? Well, that’s rich, because I never fucking had sex with anyone after you left Chicago! Well, not for a few years at least. God damn it! They played us, Elliot. Your parents played us!”

I’m so angry right now, so fucking wound up, I have to hit something. I turn and punch my fist right through the wall, putting a nice big hole in the plaster. Shit!

Startled, Annie flinches and draws back from me, and immediately I regret losing it like that in front of her. She’s just divorced a violent, abusive asshole. The last thing she needs to see is me punching holes in the wall. “Shit, I’m sorry, but you have to know I would never hurt you.”

She grabs my hand and inspects my knuckles, frowning at the split skin and the blood. “Oh, my God, your hand!”

I glance down at the damage and shrug. It’s not the first time I’ve punched a hole through a wall, and it certainly won’t be the last. “It’s nothing.”

“It’s not nothing,” she says, clutching my fist to her chest. “You’re bleeding!”

She pulls me by the hand into the bathroom and turns on the faucet, holding my fist under cold running water. “Do you have a first aid kit?” she says, frantically opening and closing drawers as she searches for supplies. “Bandages? Antibiotic ointment?”

Unable to help myself, I start laughing. After everything we’ve been through, and after all the years we were separated, she’s worried about a few bloody knuckles?

When she comes up empty-handed, she plants her hands on her hips and glares at me. “Why are you laughing? This isn’t the least bit funny.”

“Oh, yes it is.” I shut the faucet off and grab a hand towel to blot the water and residual blood from my injured hand. The look on her face is both priceless and so damn familiar, it makes my chest ache. “Baby, come here.”

“Don’t you dare ‘baby’ me,” she says, clearly annoyed. “I’m serious.”

I bite back a grin, liking this new feistier side of her. She never talked to me like that before. “I’m sorry, Elliot. Come here, please.” I hold out my arms, and she studies me as if debating her next action. And then, to my relief, she walks toward me, looking kind of flummoxed.

When she’s within reach, I lift her up and sit her down on the bathroom counter. “I’m laughing because… well, it’s either laugh or cry, and frankly I don’t want to break down like a big baby in front of you. I have my reputation to think about.”

I step between her knees and get as close to her as I can. It’s not close enough, far from it, but at least it’s a start. We have to walk before we can run.

I thread my fingers into her hair, loving the silky feel of the strands. Leaning my forehead against hers, I close my eyes and just breathe, savoring the moment. She’s here, in my arms. That’s what matters now. I’ll deal with the rest of it later. After a few moments, I pull back and look down at her.

Her eyes are red, glittering with tears as reality starts to sink in. “I can’t believe my parents lied to us.”

My anger dissipates when I hear the sorrow in her voice. “I know. I’m sorry.”

“How could they do that? They knew what you meant to me!”

I brush my thumb along her bottom lip, which is pink and plump and so damn luscious. I need to kiss her.

“I’m going to kiss you now,” I say, giving her plenty of time to object. I wait for a reaction because the last thing I want to do is overstep my bounds. Mesmerized, I watch as the tears in her eyes collect into pools until suddenly they’re spilling over her lids.

Her face screws up in pain, and she looks away. “I can’t believe they did that. This is all my fault.”

“Hey.” I turn her face back to me. “No, it’s not your fault. This is on them, not you.”

“Yes, it is my fault! I should have talked to you about it. If I had, we would have figured out what they were doing. Instead, I was hurt and afraid, and I buried myself in schoolwork and hid at school to block out the pain.”

“Then it’s as much my fault as yours. I should have gone after you, confronted you. If I had, everything would have turned out differently. We were both young and insecure, easily manipulated. But that’s old history, Elliot. We’re here now, you and me, together, and that’s what matters. Now, about that kiss…”

She grins at me through her tears. And then, to my surprise, she reaches up and skims her fingers over my beard. “I like this. Your beard.”

She proceeds to explore my face with gentle fingertips, as if learning me all over again. The pleasure of her touch is so exquisite I close my eyes and let it wash over me. She traces the crooked bridge of my nose. She traces the shape of my eyebrows and my brow. Then her fingers slide through my short hair and up into the longer bit on top, which she grips firmly, as if tethering me to her.

Her touch hits me like a blow, and I groan loudly. “Elliot.”

“You’re the same,” she murmurs, “and yet so different.”

She releases my hair and slides her hands down past my shoulders to my upper arms. “Your arms are freaking huge.” She slides her cool fingers up beneath the short sleeves of my T-shirt and skims them over my biceps, sending a jolt of electricity down my spine, straight to my dick, which instantly begins to stiffen.

I laugh. “Are you trying to torture me?”

“I don’t think I could ever get enough of touching you.” Then her hands slide up to cup my face. “Jacob McIntyre.”

She says my name like it’s an oath. I grasp her waist and squeeze gently. “Yeah?”

Her voice is soft, almost wistful, as if she’s dreaming. “You have no idea how I’ve longed for you.”

“Oh, I think I do. I never stopped chasing you in my dreams.”

We lost so much. But we’ve also been given another chance. A chance I’m not going to waste. I cradle her face in my hands and gaze down into big luminous pools of brown. “I love you, Annie Elliot. I’ve always loved you. I never stopped. And this time, I’m not letting you go. We’re not kids this time. We don’t have to worry about people interfering in our lives. If you want me, then you have me, from now until the end of eternity, just like we planned.”

When I slide my hands from her waist up her torso, letting my thumbs brush against the plump sides of her breasts, she shivers. And when she opens her mouth on a gasp, I take advantage of the situation and press mine to hers, using my lips to coax hers apart.

I drink in the sounds she makes, reveling in the knowledge that she’s really here in my arms. In my world again. And damn it, I’m not going to lose her this time.

The kiss quickly turns heated, and we devour each other, our lips and tongues working feverishly to get reacquainted. The sounds she makes, those sweet, feminine whimpers, make me weak in the knees.

“Mommy!”

We both freeze, then break apart at the frantic voice coming from across the hall.

“Oh, my God! Aiden!” She jumps down from the countertop and scurries out of the bathroom. “I’m coming, sweetie!”

Aiden.

Jesus, there’s a kid. It’s not just the two of us now. Surely that’s going to complicate things.

And then it dawns on me. That’s my kid now, too.

Damn. I’m going to be a step-father.

* * *

I head out into the hallway to see what all the fuss is about. Aiden is sobbing his eyes out, poor kid, clinging to Annie for dear life, and Annie’s trying to comfort him.

“I couldn’t find you,” Aiden cries, his face tucked against Annie’s belly. He’s got that dinosaur clutched in one arm and his other arm around his mom.

“Sweetheart, I’m sorry,” she says, wincing apologetically. “I was talking to Mr. McIntyre. I was right across the hall the whole time.” She points at my room. “Right in there.”

“But I couldn’t find you,” he cries, sniffling against her top.

“Hey, Aiden,” I say, in what I hope is a friendly voice. I know jack shit about kids, but I guess I’d better start learning as I fully intend to become an integral part of this kid’s life. “Are you hungry? I’ll bet lunch is ready. Do you want to go downstairs and find out?”

Aiden peers cautiously at me and nods.

“Aiden, you should answer Mr. McIntyre,” Annie says. “It’s not polite to—”

“No, it’s okay,” I say, crouching down beside Aiden. I wink at him. “We don’t stand on ceremony around here. Whatever he’s comfortable with is fine.”

Charlie’s door opens, and she strolls out dressed in ripped jeans and a superhero T-shirt.

As Aiden gets a look at Charlie’s shirt, his eyes widen. “You like the Avengers? Me too! Who’s your favorite?”

She winks at Annie. “I kind of have a thing for Thor.”

“Cool!” Aiden says. “Mine’s Ironman!” And then he extends his arms into the air and makes “whooshing” sounds as if he’s flying.

Charlie nods in appreciation. “Good choice, dude. I approve.”

I can tell by the smile on Annie’s face that Charlie just hit one out of the park with the kid. I make a mental note to get myself an Ironman T-shirt as soon as possible, because scoring points with the kid is probably a surefire way to score points with the mom. I think a couple of dinosaur T-shirts wouldn’t be out of line either.

“Who’s ready for lunch?” I say, motioning toward the stairs.

“I am!” Aiden says, jumping up and down like a pogo stick, his recent trauma forgotten.

Annie smiles up at me, grateful for the distraction.

Charlie holds out her hand to the boy. “Come on, Aiden. Let’s go see what Elly made us for lunch.”

Aiden looks back at his mom, and then cautiously at me. He’s so obviously torn between wanting to trust, and possibly have fun in the process, and fearing some kind of repercussion.

“Go ahead,” I tell him, nodding toward the stairs. “Charlie doesn’t bite.”

Aiden glances up at Annie, who smiles gently and nods. “You can go with Charlie. It’s okay.”

Aiden lays his hand in Charlie’s, and the two of them set off toward the stairs. I watch Annie as she watches her son walk away, a bittersweet smile on her face. She obviously loves her son dearly, and I’m glad the kid has such a great mom. Too bad his dad is a prick.

“Shall we?” I say to Annie, offering her my hand.

She grins bashfully as she takes it, and we head down the hallway after the others.

Walking with her gives me such a sense of déjà vu. We never missed an opportunity to walk together in the hallways at school. I study her out of the corner of my eye, taking in all the physical changes to her body and appreciating her new curves. Her hips are wider than they used to be, her butt more rounded, which is a huge plus. She’s definitely filled out in adulthood. Motherhood likely had something to do with that.

Charlie and Aiden have pulled ahead of us and are already halfway down the stairs when Annie and I reach the second floor landing. She pauses for a moment and looks up at me. “Your friend Charlie is really good with Aiden. I can’t thank you enough for asking her to come. He could really use a friend.”

“I figured Aiden would feel safer with a female bodyguard than with a male. But don’t let her easy-going ways fool you—she won’t let anything happen to Aiden. Charlie is a mean, ass-kicking machine when the occasion calls for it.”

She laughs. “I’m glad to hear that.”

I walk her backward until she meets the wall and use my arms to cage her in. I lean close, pressing my body to hers, reveling in the feel of her breasts cushioned against my chest. I would so love to pick up where we left off in my room. I lean down and brush my nose against hers, then hover my lips above hers.

Her sweet lips curve into a playful grin, giving me a glimpse of the old Elliot. “Well, what are you waiting for?” she whispers.

“I’m waiting for you to tell me I can kiss you.”

“Since when did you ever wait for an invitation?”

“Since I started worrying about fucking this up.”

She smiles sadly, pressing her hands to the sides of my face. Her thumbs brush over my bottom lip, making me shudder. “You have nothing to worry about, Jake. Just kiss me.”

“That’s all I needed to know.” I lower my mouth to hers, taking my sweet time so I can savor the anticipation.

She meets me halfway, lifting her mouth to mine, and when our lips touch, it’s electric. She gasps, and I groan, and we give in to years of pent-up longing. I press into her, one arm going around her waist and the other hand cradling the back of her head. I can’t get enough. I’ll never get enough.

“Mommy! Are you coming?”

Annie breaks our kiss, breathing hard, and I step back to give her some space. Slow down, man. Don’t rush her.

“We should go downstairs,” she says, ducking past me to get to the stairs. “They’re waiting for us.”

I follow her at a more sedate pace, hoping to give my erection time to settle down before I join the others.