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“Hope?” My question hangs in the air and he nods slowly, his stubble catching in my hair a little.
“I think so. It’s strange.”
“What is?”
“I never thought I’d be here, in the city again. Not for this long. With love. With a family. With a wife and babies on the way. I thought my chance at that had passed. I didn’t step foot in Manhattan unless I had to.”
“I’m glad you did.” My mind drifts back to when I first saw him. To the day in the graveyard. “Grief makes strange lives.”
He nods a few times. Then adds, “It paves a path. I had to decide which one to pursue. There were several to choose from, some that would have destroyed me. I thought I didn’t deserve this.”
“And now you do?” A confession like this from him is rare. I’m assuming it’s because of last night, but it could be because things are changing again, for both of us.
He shifts us and pulls away so he can see me. “There’s a lack of gratitude in thinking I deserve anything. No, it’s not that. It’s not that I deserve it. Or earned, hell knows I didn’t do that.” He grins that perfectly sexy crooked smile and runs his hand through his dark hair, and then over the top of his head, stopping at the nape of his neck.
He lowers his lashes before shifting his blue gaze to meet mine. “Gratitude is a stoic explanation, falling incredibly short of how I feel to be here now, with you. My life was obliterated and I felt every second of it. It changed me. I welcomed the onslaught. That, I deserved that.” Before I can tell him he did not, he lifts his hand to silence me. “It’s the presumptuous-ass method of moving through life. Blame and rage controlled me. But that’s not what I see in you. That conversation we had last night—Avery, you still have hope. It still beats in your chest and sparkles in your eyes. That unyielding desire to share life, that you think it’s a blessing. You changed me.”
“I put you through hell.” My gaze drops to my hands as I thread my fingers together. The memories of all the ways I’ve hurt him rush at me in an unyielding flash. The lump in my throat tightens.
His hand comes near, and he puts a finger under my chin, pulling me back toward him. “You freed me from hell. And I’ll do the same for you. I promise. Nothing you can say or do will scare me off. I’m not going anywhere.” He kisses my forehead and pulls me into his chest, hugging me.
The reassurance I needed to hear. The man has this innate quality of knowing what I need to hear and when to say it. It’s a weakness that he can read me so easily, but shutting him out is the last thing I want to do.
Bashful, I smile up at him. That’s what you get when the old me and the new me collide—blushes. I try to hide them, but I can’t. And it’s happening more and more lately. “What if I told you something? Something I wanted to do to you.”
This new line of questioning piques his interest. “Oh? And what would that be Miss Smith?”
Pressing my lips together, I decide to tell him. It’s a way to see if I want to go there with him again. If I want to be the one that brings this back into our bed. I lean into his ear and slip my tongue over my lips, saying the one thing that’s been going through my mind since he sat down. My cheeks burn as I confess, and the pit of my stomach swirls at the words.
Sean has a serene smile on his face and knows to keep his gaze forward while I speak. He soaks in my confession and after a moment of silence, he glances at me. “That’s what you want? Teeth?”
My entire face burns as I hide in the crook of his neck. As if someone else could hear. “Yes. And you. Tied to the chair. And me. Between your legs doing whatever I want.”
His lips twitch and before I can finish what I’m saying, I can see that he likes the idea. His boxer briefs hug every inch of him, presenting me with a rather large compliment. “That sounds, well, you can see how it sounds.” He shifts on the couch, aroused.
“Really?”
“Avery,” he glances at me with an incredulous smile on his lips. It tugs at the corners every so slightly, not in mocking laughter, but amazement. “You could literally do anything to me and I’d let you. I’d love to see where this takes you. I’d love to be the one you rage on, the one who frees you from it. And it’s not because turnabout is fair play. It’s because I want to walk that path with you, if you’ll let me. I want to see where you go, what you choose because I love you. Picket fences, piggy kites, dollar menus, and this provocative possession you want to exert over me. I want you. All of you.” His hand rests on my cheek in a gesture of reassurance.
I nod and shift my gaze to the side, no longer trying to repress a shy smile. “You aren’t worried I’ll break? That this path ends in destruction?”
“Trust yourself, Avery. I do. With every ounce of my being. You’re stronger than you realize, more ferocious than tame, and that’s exactly what you need to be right now. Do you really not see how that fits with being a young mother?”
I blink at him, astounded. My brows knit together as I think about it. “No, I didn’t see that at all.” I was too busy hiding my feelings about this from him. Too upset thinking I’ve turned into a deviant. That I’m not the soft, pliant woman I once was. Okay, now I’m lying to myself. I’ve never been completely bendable. I’ve always held back part of me, and this throws it all out there. No hiding anything, because that kind of sex is dripping with emotions for me.
“Tell me what you want, Avery.”
The corners of my lips tip up in a playful smirk. “You. Now.”
CHAPTER 9
I rest my hand on my twins just in time to feel a tiny foot slam into my lower rib. I wince and close my eyes. My due date came and went. I’d jump on a trampoline if I thought I could roll out of this bed.
Sean’s jaw is covered in dark stubble, his hair longer these days than when we first met. It falls over his forehead, past his eyebrows, and just reaches his dark lashes. His lips pull into a smile. “It’s been over forty weeks of compliments. My repertoire is thin these days.”
I can’t help it. I want to pout. I try to fold my arms over my chest, but that’s enormous too, so I basically hit myself in the face with my forearms. Grumbling, I mutter obscenities as Sean inches closer, strokes a hand across my face. “You’re almost there, Avery.”
Glancing up at him, our eyes meet. I know this is the beginning of a new life for us. Everything starts over here. It’s a chance to heal old wounds and begin fresh. I want that more than anything. The thought of childbirth no longer frightens me. I want to hold these little girls in my arms and smile at them.
“Do
you think they’ll look like me or you?” I ask as I slip my arms around him and pull him close.
Sean barks a laugh, “They better look like you. A woman with this face would be awful.” He teases me, says other things to make me smile, and then stands. We have names selected, perfect baby girl names.
Sean pads across the room and pulls open the curtains, knowing how much I love the sunlight, and how miserable it’s been to be trapped in this bed for the past few weeks. Bedrest sucks. Sean stands with his back to me, looking through the handblown glass. The sunlight flashes on his naked body in curved pieces of light. The strength of his back, all the way down to that toned butt, and muscular legs that look so appealing.
My mind wanders to what my body looked like before and how it’s a train wreck now. Before I know what happened, I’m blubbering about how beautiful he is and how fat I am—I sound like a hormonal mess.
Sean is there, sitting with me again, stroking my brow, kissing my cheek, and telling me things I didn’t realize. “Do you know how hard it’s been to keep my hands off of you?”
“You’re just saying that.”
He smiles sheepishly. “I swear, I’m not. The idea of fucking my pregnant wife is intoxicating. When the doc said hands off, I thought I’d die. Avery, these past few months have been more difficult for me than you could imagine. I know how horrible you feel, but it’s like your beauty has been amplified. Your sexiness is off the charts. I mean look at these.” He slides the pad of his finger down the side of my chest, following the generous sweep of my breast. His gaze is hot, lingering like he wants to dip his head and devour me.
“I miss you.” The confession is off my lips before I have time to think about it. We never talked about this part because we couldn’t do it.
