Lauren woke several hours later to soft lips nuzzling her earlobe and a large, calloused palm sliding into the curls between her thighs. Trent lay against her side, his skin lusciously warm. His erection lay hot and hard against her hip, and just that fast, moisture gathered between her thighs. She didn’t bother to open her eyes but moaned softly and reached out blindly to touch him. Upon finding his soft belly, she caressed down, curling her fingers around his length, and stroked him gently.
He groaned low in his throat and nipped at her shoulder. “Are you sore?”
The husky rumble of his voice sent a wave of heat bursting along her skin. Despite his question, his deft fingers caressed her, sliding over sensitive skin. When the tip of his finger caressed her clit, fire erupted through her. She was a bit sore, as she’d been told she might be after her first time. She’d secretly hoped Trent would be right, that she’d be so turned on it wouldn’t hurt the first time. When it had, she’d become overwhelmed. Feeling pain in a moment that was supposed to be all about pleasure had left her floundering. Uncertain.
Trent had calmed it all. So despite her soreness, she couldn’t resist the need he sent burning through her.
She slid her hand over his, pressing him more firmly into her. “Don’t stop.”
He groaned low in her ear, his lips moving over her. Skimming her jaw. Nipping at her shoulder. Sending showers of sparks erupting over the surface of her skin.
“I wanted to let you sleep, thought you might be too sore, but…” He arched his hips, his impressive length sliding against her palm, and groaned again. “God, I want you.”
She stroked him slowly, all the while rocking her hips into his hand. “I am, but…” His fingers caressed her again, and the rest of her sentence died on a strangled gasp.
One touch and every nerve ending came alive as he swept her up in a world of sensation: the huff of his erratic breathing in her ear, his long fingers buried inside of her, stroking all the right places, building the need to breathtaking heights. Faster than she thought possible, her orgasm burst through her, luxurious and bone-melting.
When the spasms finally slowed to aftershocks, she gave a luxurious stretch and rolled toward him. He was little more than a shadow in the darkness, but that intense gaze burned into her.
He slid a warm palm over the curve of her hip, gripped her ass, and rocked his erection into the softness of her belly. Then he groaned, this time a sound of misery and need, and caught her bottom lip between his teeth. “Condom.”
She nodded, brushed a kiss over his mouth, and rolled away from him, fumbling in the top drawer of her nightstand. Fingers closing around a foil packet, she rolled back to him and held out the condom. “I haven’t a clue what I’m doing, and I don’t want to wait for lessons…”
He grinned in the darkness and took the condom, quickly putting it on, then hooked her knee and pulled her leg over his hip. Once again his large, warm palm cupped her ass, pulling her to him as he arched upward, sliding deep inside her in one slow, slick thrust.
This time they both moaned, and he leaned his forehead against hers. “If I’m too rough…”
She pressed her leg into his buttocks, pulling him hard to her, and arched tightly against him.
“I’m not afraid, Trent.” She tilted her head, brushing kisses over his mouth. “Let go. I want you to let go.”
He claimed her mouth in a hard kiss and used his purchase on her ass to set the rhythm. She wrapped both arms around him and met his every thrust by pushing against him. How was it possible to need someone like this? Their lovemaking took on a desperate rhythm, bodies surging together, and every thrust lit her body on fire. Every nerve ending came alive all over again until she was panting and making sounds she didn’t know she could make. Desperate, pleasure-filled moans and sighs.
It wasn’t long before that sweet bubble burst inside of her again, and she was shuddering in his arms. Trent groaned low in her ear, following quickly, his body trembling against her as he came.
He let out his breath in a rush and dropped his forehead into her neck, his arm tightening around her. They lay that way for a moment, just their harsh breathing filling the silence. Finally he lifted his head, kissed her softly, and pulled away from her. “I’ll be right back.”
He left the room naked, returning a few minutes later, climbed in beside her, and drew her to him. She rested her head on his chest and he wrapped his arms around her, holding her so tight she couldn’t sure be where he ended and she began.
* * *
A week later she woke to bright sunlight pervading the room. Signs of life drifted in from outside. Kids laughing. Dogs barking. Cars starting.
Lauren opened her eyes to find Trent on his side, hand tucked beneath his pillow, watching her. The intensity in those cobalt eyes told her something heavy weighed on his mind, but he smiled all the same, soft and warm, and pressed a gentle kiss to her lips. “Morning.”
“Morning.” She returned the smile, trying to pretend her heart didn’t clench.
She couldn’t have asked for a more perfect first time. Despite his making her promise to tell him if he got too rough, he’d been everything she’d always envisioned a man would be: tender, gentle, considerate. God, he had passion, too. Now she knew why he didn’t do one-night stands any more than she did. Because when he made love, he didn’t hold back. She didn’t get bits and parts of him. She got all of him.
She reached back into the nightstand drawer for a condom, then rolled him onto his back and straddled his hips. “I want you.”
Big warm hands skimmed her body, his breaths already coming hard and fast. He let out a quiet laugh. “I’m not sure I’ll ever get enough of you.”
Her heart swelled and ached at his tender admission. Their time together was slowly dwindling. They hadn’t talked about it. Rather, they seemed to be ignoring it completely. But it was there between them all the same, like a thick black cloud hanging over their heads.
“Me either.” She grinned at him as she slid down his body. Her trembling fingers fumbled to roll the condom down his length. Then she straddled him again and sank onto him, taking him inch by glorious inch. Yeah. This feeling. Him inside of her, body meshed with hers. She wasn’t sure she’d ever get enough of it, either.
“Closer.” He pulled her down to lie on him, chest to chest.
They made love slowly, rocking together, arms banded around each other, sharing the same breath. Never once did he look away, and she lost herself there, in the deep blue sea of his eyes. She was drowning in him, but she had no desire to be saved. He took her world and spun it beyond her imagination. Until there was nothing but him and the glorious pleasure he sent spiraling through her.
He rose to meet her as she sank down, and with every luscious thrust, the rhythm increased. Until they were pushing and shoving together. She couldn’t seem to take him deep enough, and the sounds of their frantic lovemaking filled the room, their bodies slapping together, the bed creaking. Her soft pants combined with his harsh breaths.
Her orgasm struck out of nowhere, luxurious and soft, but powerful all the same. Her eyes fluttered closed as the bliss racked her body. “Trent…”
He let out a deep groan, his hands gripping her ass tight to hold her still as he shook beneath her.
She collapsed on his chest, still trembling, and pressed her face into his neck, his scent filling her nostrils with every gasping breath. Trent kissed her head and held her tightly, but neither of them spoke.
When her breathing finally slowed, she shifted off him and sat up. Trent lay there for a minute before he rose from the bed. He touched her shoulder, then left the room, striding down the hallway. The bathroom door shut with a resounding click. Or maybe it was just her.
She was too aware that their time together was dwindling fast. She had one more week with him this way. When it was over, Trent would set her back in the friend zone, and she’d have to pretend seeing him didn’t make her heart ache. Didn’t make her want more with him or doubt herself as a woman. Once again, she’d be rejected and alone, and she had to pretend it wasn’t killing her. After all, she’d agreed to this. Could she even go back to treating him like only a friend?
One thing became clear as the finest crystal: she really wasn’t cut out for flings.
* * *
Later that week, Lauren stood at the stove, trying to keep her mind focused on her task. Namely, making breakfast. She pulled the spatula through the scrambled eggs in the pan, one ear on the water running at the back of the house. Trent was in the shower. He’d come out soon dressed in just his jeans and greet her with a tender kiss on his way to the coffeemaker. Like he always did.
All the while she’d have to pretend her chest wasn’t caving in.
The date had leaped out at her from her phone when she’d checked her voice mail twenty minutes ago. Their month had come to an end. For the past two weeks, Trent had taken to staying at her place. She went to sleep every night with his warm, solid body wrapped against her back after making love to him until she was too sated to move. She woke every morning to his stubbled face and bright eyes.
But now all that was over, because it was what they’d agreed on.
Tomorrow morning her life would go back to normal. Whatever the hell that was these days. A week from now they had Will and Skylar’s party. She’d have to go back to treating Trent like a friend.
The ache in her chest told her one thing in no uncertain terms: she’d gone and done exactly what she shouldn’t have. She’d fallen in love with him. She couldn’t even be sure when it happened. She only knew the thought of never again getting to touch him, or kiss him, or fall asleep wrapped in his arms was crushing her.
The water shut off, leaving her alone with her twisting thoughts. By the time the eggs were done, he emerged around the corner in nothing but a pair of worn jeans, chest deliciously bare.
Lauren focused on divvying out the eggs. If she didn’t, she’d be pushing herself into his arms, which would get her all of nowhere. The time had come to separate herself from this. The problem was, she hadn’t a damn clue how to do that.
Trent sidled up behind her, settling his hands on her waist. “Tell me.”
Of course he knew something was off. Like she was made of freaking glass.
She shook her head, attempting to step out of his embrace. “It’s nothing. I’m fine.”
Trent slid his arms around her, pulling her flush against him. His voice came as a husky rumble against her back. “You’re not fine. I know your every mood, and I know when something’s wrong. Spill it.”
They’d promised each other honesty, but what the hell could she tell him? How did she do this?
She sighed, tears pricking at her eyes. She’d hoped they wouldn’t have to have this conversation yet, but sooner or later she had to face it. “Today’s our last day together.”
He didn’t say anything for a moment, but his body stiffened against her back.
“That’s what I thought it was.” He released her and stepped away, moving around her to the coffeemaker. “It’s what we agreed on. A month and it ends.”
His voice was low, devoid of any emotion that might clue her in to how he felt.
She nodded and moved to the bread she’d set on the counter earlier, pulling out two pieces and popping them into the toaster. “Yup. We did.”
“So what’s the problem?” Spoken with little emotion. Like they merely discussed whether to go out tonight.
She gripped the counter’s edge until her fingertips hurt. The words burned like acid on her tongue, but she’d spent the last twenty minutes in contemplation, and her thoughts swirled like buzzards over a dead carcass, continually returning to one point. She couldn’t do this with him anymore. “I was thinking maybe we should just end this now instead of tomorrow morning.”
Having poured hot coffee into a mug, Trent returned the carafe to the base and stood silent. Tension rose over him, thickening the air between them. Finally, his facade cracked and he pivoted toward her, brows draw together, blue eyes filled with…misery. With regret. “Lauren…”
Her insides wobbled. She took a step back and shook her head. “Don’t. If you care about me at all, Trent, you won’t tell me what I know you’re going to. I know what this is and what it isn’t.”
His jaw tightened. His nostrils flared. Fists clenched at his sides. For a moment he stared, clearly at war with himself. Then he drew a deep breath and released it, his fists unfurling. “What’s changed, then?”
“Me.” She let out a harsh, bitter laugh and turned to the stove, for something, anything else to look at but the regret in his eyes. “Apparently, I’m no good at flings. I know we agreed on this, but I can’t pretend this isn’t killing me. I’m sorry, but I’m human. And I don’t want to spend the day dreading that moment when I have to watch you leave and not come back. I’d rather we just get it over with now. Go our separate ways.”
While she still had the strength not to beg him to stay.
She stared at his back, waiting for him to say…something.
Finally, he pivoted toward her, slid a hand around her waist, and hauled her against him. His eyes blazed, nostrils flaring. “We have one more night, and I want it.”
“What does one more night matter?” It would only hurt worse tomorrow when she had to wake in his arms again.
Trent didn’t answer, but cupped her face in his palms and sealed his mouth over hers. His kiss wasn’t the soft, tender sips and tastes she’d come to know, either. His lips bruised hers, his tongue thrusting inside, demanding a response. God help her, she gave him one. She arched her back, pushing her breasts into his chest, and lifted onto her toes to get more of him.
He was a drug, and she was addicted. A fly willingly caught in his web.
As if sensing her surrender, he turned her back to the counter. His large, warm hands furrowed beneath the waistband of her pajama pants and pushed them down. When they pooled at her feet, he gripped her now bare ass in his hands and lifted her like she weighed nothing, setting her down on the counter, then edged between her thighs. He reclaimed her lips, never once giving her room to protest, as his hands moved to his fly, unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans. He released her long enough to shove them down his hips, then pulled her to him and thrust home.
Lauren gasped at the sweet invasion, her body arching into his. She couldn’t say no to him any more than she could stop breathing. Her body rose to his, her hips thrusting against him.
He wasn’t gentle or tender or slow. His hips pumped into her, his rhythm hard and fast and brutal. His thick length filled her insides, sliding so deep it bordered on the brink of pain. And yet she couldn’t stop herself from responding. He hit a sweet spot deep inside, and pleasure erupted along her nerve endings. Her body liquefied, his to do with as he pleased.
He thrust deep again and again, and Lauren wrapped her arms around his shoulders, holding tight. She pushed against him, welcoming the luscious tension coiling within her, her last chance to connect to him.
Trent dropped his head onto her shoulder, never once apologizing or slowing, but continually pushing harder, deeper, beyond her boundaries…then demanding more.
It didn’t last long. In a matter of minutes they were shuddering together, her body bowing into him, shaking uncontrollably as her orgasm claimed her. He groaned into her throat, his hips jerking as he emptied himself deep inside of her.
Just as quickly as it began, it ended, leaving her shaking, a sense of ultra-vulnerability curling through her. “I want more, Trent.”
She wanted to keep what they had. Even if there was a chance they wouldn’t last. Even it was only a few months. She wanted all of him. Wanted to call him her boyfriend, to announce their relationship to the whole damn world.
Wanted him to tell her he wanted her, too.
His body stiffened against her. He held her for the briefest seconds, then pulled out and turned away from her, doing up his pants as he left the room.
Her chest squeezed, all the air leaving her lungs. His seed already spilled out to coat her inner thighs, no doubt making a mess of her kitchen counter. Never mind that they hadn’t even thought about a condom or the fact that she could end up pregnant. Wouldn’t that just be cat’s meow? Having his baby knowing he didn’t love her. The thought was killing her, and she couldn’t move. She sat frozen, afraid if she so much as breathed, she’d shatter into a thousand, irreparable shards.
A minute later Trent stopped in the kitchen entrance, fully dressed now. His brow furrowed, eyes filled with a palpable regret. “I’m sorry, Lauren. I am. But I can’t.”
He didn’t wait for her to respond, but turned and strode away. The entire house seemed to fill with an unbearable strained silence that gripped her chest in a vise.
Thirty seconds later the front door opened with a whoosh of air disturbed, then closed with a quiet snap. She flinched and held her breath, knowing what was coming but waiting for it all the same. When his motorcycle growled to life outside in the driveway, the tears finally came. As she listened to his engine fading into the distance, they dripped one by one down her cheeks.
It was over. She loved him, and he wasn’t coming back. The sad part was, as much as it hurt, she couldn’t be sorry for the time she’d spent with him. He’d given her something she could never in a million years regret: all of himself. For a single, glorious month, he was hers. He’d taught her that sex wasn’t the evil thing she’d grown up believing it to be. It could be beautiful and life altering. He’d calmed her insecurities and proven it really was possible that a good man could want her.
He’d given her wings, freedom from the past. Freedom to revel in her sexuality, to glorify in it even.
She’d also accomplished what she’d set out to do when she’d signed up for that blasted dating service. She’d lost her virginity. She’d had her first fling and, now, her first love. All in one fell swoop. She’d treasure those memories. Even if right now all they did was make her want to curl into a ball on the floor and sob.
* * *
He was miserable. He was at a party meant to be a celebration, a night of fun, and he was fucking miserable.
Seated on the steps of the back deck of his parents’ house a week later, Trent braced his elbows on his knees and stared out over the darkened yard. There were no less than a hundred people milling about the space, half of whom he’d never met. The sun had long since set, and three hours in, the party was still going strong. They’d set up tables outside, and Dad had brought out the tiki torches, setting a glowing perimeter around the yard.
Mom had done exactly what he’d expected. She’d insisted on cooking, and now moved from table to table playing the ultimate hostess, checking on her guests and refilling plates and drinks. Will and Sky were ensconced in the middle of a crowd, laughing and talking. Dad, last he’d checked, was telling war stories.
The whole evening was a huge success. Everyone appeared to be having fun. Everyone except him.
He’d put on cheerful facade, for his brother’s sake, had made a toast in their honor, had laughed and forced himself to mingle. Now he had a damn headache. He couldn’t get into the mood if he tried.
Skylar had, of course, invited Lauren. Mom had roped her into bringing dessert. She now stood at the makeshift buffet table, helping his mother refill drinks or plates. She looked incredible, in a simple pair of black slacks and a soft sweater that outlined her curves, her hair spilling free down her back and blowing in the cool evening breeze. She was on top of her game, too, gracious as always, laughing and talking.
She hadn’t said a word to him since she’d arrived four hours ago. She wouldn’t even look at him. Every once in a while she’d glance in his direction, but longing and hurt would fleet through her gaze…right before it skirted off in another direction.
And it was eating a hole in his chest. It was ironic, really. The whole damn idea of his stupid rules and the one-month time limit had been to keep it casual, to keep her from getting hurt, so that in the end he wouldn’t lose her. Yet here he was. He’d lost her anyway.
What a fool he’d been.
Will turned his head, his gaze landing on Trent for a moment. Then he turned to Skylar and leaned in to her ear. Skylar nodded, and Will stepped away from the crowd.
Trent’s gut tightened as he watched Will move in his direction. So much for being inconspicuous.
After climbing the steps, Will dropped neat and easy beside him. “Only you could look miserable at a party.”
“Sorry. I figured you and Sky would be wrapped up in each other by now and nobody would miss me.” Trent shot his brother an apologetic frown, then turned his gaze back to the yard.
“We’ll always miss you.” Will bumped his shoulder. “I couldn’t help noticing that you’ve been watching Lauren all night. How come you’re up here looking miserable instead of down there with her? You haven’t said two words to each other all night. What happened?”
He eyed Lauren, who now sat at a table between Mandy and some big buff dude. As he watched, the dude leaned toward her, apparently saying something funny, because Lauren turned her head and laughed, her whole face lighting up.
Irritation slid along his nerve endings, and Trent’s jaw tightened. Along with his stomach. Only sheer force of will kept him in his seat. What he wanted to do was march the hell down there.
Will nudged him with an elbow. “Relax. That’s Chris, Sky’s brother-in-law. He’s happily married.”
Trent blew out a breath, releasing his irritation along with it. Christ. He was acting like a jealous ex. From now on it would be this way. Chances were he wouldn’t see much of her, save for holidays or the summer barbeques his parents like to throw, but he’d have to prepare himself for the eventuality of it. Along with the eventuality of her dating again. He’d have to watch her be with someone else and pretend it didn’t make him see red.
This whole fiasco had been his brilliant fucking idea.
He dropped his head into his hands, dejection weighing on him. “It was a fling and it’s over. We agreed on short-lived, that we’d go back to being friends when it ended. Problem is, she hasn’t said two words to me in more than a week. She won’t even look at me.”
“Ah.” Will nodded as if he’d suddenly figured it all out and turned to stare at the yard for a moment. “You want my advice?”
Trent let out a sardonic laugh. “Do I have a choice?”
“No.” Will shot him a cockeyed grin and pushed to his feet. “Forgive me for being blunt, bro, but stop being a stubborn ass and just admit you’re in love with her. Then for crying out loud, go down there and tell her. I know you’re afraid of losing of her, but if you ask me, it would seem you already have. So what the hell have you got to lose?” Will nudged him with his knee. “Time to pick up and move on, T. I can’t think of anyone more perfect for you than her.”
Will didn’t bother to wait for a response, but trotted down the steps into the yard, leaving Trent to stare after him. His pulse pounded in his ears as Will’s words repeated in his head. Just admit you’re in love with her.
Reality slanted sideways, then slammed him against the wall. Hell. Was he in love with her?
Right behind the realization came the sinking pain. Did it even matter? Could he be anything she needed?
* * *
Trent punched Lauren’s doorbell, then pivoted and turned to pace the length of the porch. Three steps to the left. About-face. Three steps to the right. Wash, rinse, and repeat. It was two in the freakin’ morning. Lauren was no doubt sleeping, but damned if he could sleep. He’d lain in bed pondering his brother’s words for hours now.
Until finally they’d driven him nuts and he’d gotten out of bed. He wasn’t even sure why he was here, except that he’d come to the same conclusion Will had. What the hell did he have to lose at this point? She needed to know she meant more to him than just a month of great sex.
The dead bolt gave a noisy thunk behind him. Every muscle tightened, binding into a tight little ball that sat, hard and heavy, in his stomach. His nerve endings were on edge, raw, waiting for her to open that door.
When she finally did, his restless nerves ground to a halt. Whatever the hell it was he’d planned to say flew right out of his head. Lauren stood on the other side of the threshold, worry creasing her forehead, wearing those worn pajamas and a clingy white tank top.
“Trent.” Her eyes widened in surprise, then just as quickly her expression blanked. The walls went up over her, like someone had drawn the shades, and she folded her arms, dropping her gaze to her feet as she flexed her bare toes against the floor. “It’s late. Are you okay?”
His gut knotted, regret twisting through his chest. Of course she’d ask him that. She ought to hate him, but deep down where it counted, she still cared.
God, he was such a fool. He knew now why he’d come.
He wanted her. All of her. Maybe he’d fail. Hell, he’d be lucky if she let him past the door. But he had to try. Because his world didn’t make sense without her anymore.
He stepped up to the doorway. Somehow he managed to stop himself from stepping over the threshold and sweeping her into his arms for the desperate need to feel her against him. It had been only a week, but it had felt like an eternity. But if he touched her, it had to be her choice. So he stuffed his hands in his pockets. “No. Can we talk?”
She looked up, misery and exhaustion in her eyes. “I’m tired, Trent. It’s been a long night.”
“I know, but this can’t wait.” Too keyed up to wait for permission, he stepped forward, grabbed her hand, and pulled her the beyond the door enough to close it. If he didn’t say the words now, he might never get another chance.
He led her into the living room, then released her hand and faced her. One look at those big brown eyes and everything he wanted to tell her got narrowed down to three impossible words.
His shoulders slumped. “I miss you.”
Tears flooded her eyes, and Lauren folded her arms again, dropping her gaze to the tan carpeting. “Don’t do this to me. It’s not fair.”
He took that step, closed the distance between them as much as he dared, but stuffed his free hand back in his pocket. “I’m not here to make your life miserable. I just realized something I need you to know.”
She lifted her gaze and shook her head, looking at him like he’d lost his mind. “Then say it, so you can leave and I can go back to bed.”
His gut roiled, his chest aching. Will was right. Their friendship never would’ve recovered from this.
He released a heavy breath. “I don’t blame you for hating me.”
She let out a huff of a laugh. “I don’t hate you. I just can’t stuff my feelings back into that neat little box you want me to and pretend like I can be just your friend.”
Hope blossomed inside of him. Maybe, just maybe, she’d forgive him for being a blind fool.
He drew a breath and launched into the speech he’d been telling her over and over in his head for hours.
“I came home a year and a half ago feeling like a part of me had died. Hell, part of me wished I had. I lived in the dark, went through the motions. But spending time with you?” He shook his head, unable to stop himself from reaching out to her, caressing her chin with his thumb. She shivered beneath his touch, and he only just managed to stop himself from moving closer. “You opened me. Made me live. Hell. You made me want to live. You made me feel human again.”
He stopped to judge her reaction. Waited for her to say something. When she didn’t, when she shifted from one foot to the other and tugged her chin from his grasp, he sighed and went on. She listened at least. That had to count for something.
“Every day since we ended this, I’ve gone back to living in the dark. My apartment is cold and empty. I finished that carving of you. It’s gorgeous. But like all the rest, it sits in the closet because I can’t bear to look at it. It reminds me of you. I get up every morning more alone than I did the day before. A piece of me is missing, and it took Will pointing it out to me to realize what it was.”
He caught the wobble in her lower lip right before she turned her back to him, staring in the direction of the wall of curtained windows on the other side of the room. Her shoulders were stiff, her back straight. Clearly she didn’t intend to make this easy.
So he stepped up behind her, close enough that her sleep-warm skin infused his. A shiver moved through her that had his hands fisting with the effort not to touch, not to invade her space. “Aren’t you going to ask me what that something is?”
She shook her head. “I’m not sure what you’re trying to prove here, but this is cruel, Trent.”
The wobble in her voice sapped the last of his willpower. He pulled his hands from his pockets and slipped his arms around her waist, tugging her back against him. She didn’t go willingly, but she didn’t pull away, either. It was something, at least. So he continued. “I’m not trying to be. I just need you to know. That something is you.”
Her breathing hitched, and his chest tightened. He’d hurt her, and he hated himself for it. All he could do now was pray that somehow, when it was all said and done, she’d understand.
“I’ve kept you at a distance because I’m terrified to lose you. You’re a light in the dark, Lauren. But you wouldn’t even look at me tonight. You haven’t said two words to me since I left, and it’s eating at me. I haven’t slept since I left your apartment that morning, you know that? Because I miss you. I miss every damn thing about you. Your smile. The sound of your laugh. Hell, I miss you teasing me. But you know what I miss the most?”
This time he waited. He needed some sort of reaction from her. Encouragement. A go to hell. Something to tell him he was getting to her. She listened, but he was even making a dent?
When she continued to remain silent, he leaned his head beside her ear and rushed on. He’d come all the way out here at two in the morning. At the very least, he needed to say the words. “I miss waking up to you in the morning.”
Finally, she relented and sagged back into him. It was a movement of submission, and his chest tightened. She was trembling and for all the wrong reasons. “Why are you telling me all this?”
“Because I need you to know”—he tightened his hold on her and ducked his head, pressing his cheek to hers—“I’m in love with you.”
Lauren’s breathing hitched, and she pulled out of his embrace, stepping away from him. She kept her back to him and wrapped her arms around herself. She wasn’t giving him an inch, and who the hell could blame her? But neither had she asked him to leave. That was something. So he drew a breath and kept going.
“I have to be honest with you, though, doll. I don’t know how to do this. I’ve failed at this once already, and the thought of losing you still scares the shit out of me. My marriage went down in a spiral to hell, and I know damn well it takes two to make or break a marriage. I can’t blame it all on her.”
Lauren finally turned to face him. Tears streaked her cheeks, but her brows furrowed in irritation. “She cheated on you. That trumps whatever problems you might have had.”
“I’m not entirely convinced of that. Would she still have left had I been any kind of husband to her? Or were we doomed from the start? I don’t think I’ll ever know.” He dropped his gaze to the floor, the tan carpeting blurring as his gaze went unfocused. “I’ve got a lot of shit going on inside. Cooper and AJ died because of me, and I don’t know how to live with that. I was supposed to protect them. Every night I see them. Those images haunt me. There are days I wake up feeling like I’m still over there.”
He finally forced himself to look up at her. Focused on her big brown eyes and hoped, somehow, he was making sense.
“That’s what she had to live with. What you’d have to deal with. You want to know why I made up all those damn rules? That’s it. Because I was positive I’d only make you miserable. Most nights are endless for me. The dreams wake me from a dead sleep. Often, I pace the floors because I’m terrified to close my eyes for fear I’ll see it again. I’ve been home nineteen months now, and it hasn’t lessened by much. I’ve just learned to cope a little better.
“There are days when I’m so ornery I can’t stand myself. Because every little sound is a fucking grenade going off beside me, and I’m jumpy as hell. And there are times when being around people is the last thing I want, when all I want is my space, to sort it all out on my own.”
He reached out slowly, caressing his fingers along her cheek. She didn’t flinch or swat his hand away. That had to be a good thing, right?
“But I’m miserable without you. My world has gone dark again. I get up. I go through the motions. But it’s empty. I don’t want to go back to living like that. I want you. All of you. And I want you to have all of me.”
For a moment she stared, her lower lip wobbling, tears hovering in her eyes. When he was sure she’d ask him to leave, she finally took that step. Snaked her arms around his neck and buried her face in his throat. “I love you, Trent. Exactly the way you are. I don’t need you to be perfect. I just need you to be here.”
Trent released the breath he wasn’t aware of holding and crushed her to him. “Jesus.”
He was sure he held her so tightly she couldn’t breathe, but she didn’t complain, and he couldn’t let her go. If he did, he’d come apart at the seams. Instead, he buried his face in the fall of hair at her shoulder, let her scent wrap around him and soothe the gaping wound that had opened the morning he’d left her. The warmth of her body made the shaking finally stop.
He turned his head and kissed her neck. “I’m yours, doll. For as long as you’ll have me.”
She kissed his cheek and leaned back, big brown eyes searching his face. After a moment her gaze dropped to his chest. “You know, the last time we made love, in the kitchen, we didn’t…”
He pursed his mouth, his gut churning as that morning rose over him. He’d acted on impulse, something he never did. All he’d known was he was losing her.
“I know. I’m sorry for not being more careful.” He shook his head, at a loss as to how to explain. “I wasn’t thinking straight. You were ending it, denying me that last day, and I wanted a piece of you to take with me.”
She peeked up through her lashes, a soft pink flush rushing into her cheeks. “I’m not. Sorry for it, I mean.” One corner of her mouth quirked upward. “That was hot.”
He laughed and captured her mouth for a tender kiss, losing himself for a moment in the soft press of her lips against his, then forced himself to pull back. One look at the light and heat in her eyes and he knew. “Marry me.”
She froze, her smile melting from her face, gaze searching his. After a moment her brows drew together. “Are you sure?”
“I told you—I don’t want to lose you. Ever. What we had? I want that. Every damn day. I want to fall asleep wrapped around you, and I want to wake up next to you and make love to you before I even leave the bed. I want to make you breakfast and come home from work knowing you’ll be here waiting for me.” He leaned his forehead against hers. “That’s bliss.”
He’d come home a year and a half ago broken, and in his arms was the woman who’d put him back together. He wasn’t ever letting her go.
Tears flooded her eyes again, and she gave him a soft smile. “Yes.”
Relief flooded through him. He squeezed her so tight she squeaked, then let out a quiet laugh. Then he released her enough to meet her gaze again. “You should also know I want kids. And I think it’s time I got a dog.”
Unable to sleep one night, he’d found himself in his closet, staring at all those wooden statues. Then he’d found himself looking up websites on retired service dogs on his phone. The waiting list was long, more than a year, but he wanted one.
The warmth of her palm settled over his heart. “I’m okay with that.”
He brushed a kiss across her mouth, then released her and took her hand, sinking to the sofa. Lauren climbed in his lap, straddling his thighs, then wrapped her arms around him and buried her face in his neck. They sat that way for some time, neither one speaking. The rightness of the moment settled inside of him. For the first time since he’d come home, he felt at peace with himself, like he was finally beginning to stitch back together and that maybe, just maybe, morning had finally come, chasing away the darkness within.
Lauren was the first to move. She sat back on his knees and rolled her eyes. “I should probably tell you, Mandy figured out something was up at the party tonight. She noted the tension between us. When I refused to tell her anything, she said if we didn’t fix whatever had gone wrong, she’d lock us in a room together.”
He could only shake his head. He still wasn’t entirely comfortable with his baby sister knowing the details of his sex life. “I suppose that’s for the best. I’m going to have to tell her eventually that I’m marrying her best friend.”
She laid her head on his shoulder again, and for a few moments a comfortable silence settled between them. He ought to get up, take her to bed. It was late, after all, but he couldn’t force himself to move, to relinquish even this small intimacy with her.
“Trent?” Her voice came muffled from his throat.
“Yeah?”
“I’m not sorry, you know.” She leaned back again, sitting on his knees. Her gaze caught his for a brief moment, then dropped to his chest, her hand caressing the spot over his heart. “For that month I spent with you. I have no regrets. Even when I thought I’d lost you.”
He cupped her cheeks in his palms, letting his thumbs stroke her soft skin. He was a lucky man. “Me either. You made me feel whole again.”
Her gaze slid to his, eyes soft and glowing from within. She was happy, and his chest swelled at the sight. Finally. He’d done something to make her happy. He’d try to lasso the moon and the stars in order to keep that look on her face.
Determination lit in her eyes, and Lauren slid off his lap, holding out her hand. “Come on. Time for bed.”
He set his hand in hers and let her pull him to his feet, watching the sexy sway of her ass as she led him out of the living room and down the hallway. “To bed or to sleep?”
She shot a smile over her shoulder, but he didn’t miss the heat that flared in those gorgeous eyes. “That depends. How tired are you?”
His heart tripped over itself. He hadn’t slept in a week. He was exhausted, actually. Bone-dead tired.
Not that he’d tell her that.
He grinned and winked at her. “Not in the least.”