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Cut her as he’d been cut.People like her. In his mother’s eyes, nothing could be more damning.
He’d known Becca was keeping things from him and the long months away had made him realise how much she meant to him. How much he relied on her. Maybe his guilt over his inability to help Dan had given the accusations more credit than they deserved. They’d already argued before they hopped in the car. After coming across the accident and trying to help, he’d been crazy mixed up, so hyper he’d attacked her verbally the moment they’d been left alone. Before he realised what was happening, he’d broken it off with Becca. He hadn’t allowed himself to regret it. But together with everything else, that pretence had sent him spiralling into a very dark place.
‘I didn’t mean it, Becca. It was the worst thing I could think of to say.’
‘You don’t think accusing me of cheating was worse?’
‘I …’
Morgan stared at her face, softly lit by the lamp. It reminded him of the other time that sat clearly in his memory. The other moment that had an almost luminescent quality to it. Becca in his room, seducing him with her soft hands and sweet mouth. With the love she’d offered freely. He’d tried hard to be good. To be responsible. So there was guilt there as well, and a kind of resentment when she could tempt him beyond his endurance. She’d been his first too. He’d played around a bit when he’d first gone to Brisbane. Before Becca.
Somehow, he’d never gone all the way. He’d been painfully shy around girls. It made him hold back. He wanted it, like most teenage boys, but never enough to be out of control. Enough to know what she was offering, in her bright innocence, was going to be amazing.
He forced out the response. ‘I didn’t think of it that way. I didn’t know you could be hurt by the truth.’
‘It wasn’t true.’
‘No. My stupid mistake.’ More guilt. More regret.
Was he never going to get beyond his mistakes? Ever deserve the gift unexpectedly dropped in his lap?
Two beautiful children. Amazing children. With a wonderful mother he’d never in his wildest dreams come to deserve.
She was strong. Much stronger than he could ever be. He’d fallen at the first hurdle. Fallen so far it had taken years to pick himself up, even with the help of his doctors. It had been a miracle he’d made it through medical school. It had needed all his focus. All his attention. His mother had been right. He couldn’t have coped with more.
Some of the anger drained away, lanced by the realities of the past. There was still his own culpability. No wonder she thought he was only using her. Quite apart from the fact that he’d told her that’s what he was doing when they broke up.
An easy lay.His father wasn’t a man to use violence on his son, but he’d always been strict about disrespecting women. If he’d known about Morgan saying something derogatory to Becca he’d have given him a clip under the ear and enough work on the farm to keep his mouth shut for months.
‘We never went on a date?’
‘Never.’
‘Kind of backwards. Should we go on a date now?’
Becca twisted to face him, one knee brushing against his thigh. ‘A date date? You’re joking, aren’t you?’
Her tone pretty much squashed any hopes she thought of him as a suitable partner for a romantic outing. He hadn’t been thinking.
‘We need to get to know each other better. Talk about how we should handle things. We could do it over dinner.’
‘You aren’t thinking of anything permanent?’
Her tone was so flat, she could have walked on it. Permanent sounded good. But impossible.
‘I want to make this workable for the sake of the children. I can’t offer anything else.’
‘Whatcanyou offer?’
She was leaning close enough for him to feel her warmth. Her eyes glinted with a need that set him aching. Her tongue darted out to swipe along her lush bottom lip. The tension in his body, in his gut was almost painful.
When her mouth touched his, it was the brush of fairy wings, sweet and soft. There was no pressure, only a trickle of sensation along the sensitive flesh. Her hand cupped his jaw, holding him in place. She didn’t need to. He couldn’t have moved if he wanted to.
Twelve years and more vanished in a wisp of warmth taking him back to somewhere that remained a dream. He closed his eyes, letting feeling do the work. Listening to soft breaths and sensing a body which couldn’t, wouldn’t respond. Moisture pricked at his lids as she released him, a last stroke of her lips lingering at the corner of his mouth.
Blinking against the light, he caught a sparkle on her lashes and he swallowed the emotion. ‘I can’t offer you what you want. It has to be about the children.’
‘Only the children?’
