Back to the Start (Dangerous Love Book 4)

by Elle Keating

  Under the stars.

  She had asked him to make love to her just as he had the first night they were together in their secret nook under the stars, and he had delivered.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Morgan

  “I think you’re making a smart move by skipping that conference here in Philly this weekend. Why risk running into Owen?” Carina asked. Morgan could hear Carina rolling the Cappuccino paint onto her spare bedroom wall behind her.

  “Nothing good could come of it if we bumped into each other so soon after the divorce. It wasn’t an ugly divorce. We agreed on almost everything, who would get what, how to split up our assets. But...you know. Why breathe the same air if we don’t have to?” Morgan stood from her squatting position and stretched out her legs. She had just finished painting the last of the trim on the wall she was working on. “Besides, the three-day North American Veterinary Conference, the conference I’d much rather go to, one I know Owen has never attended before, will be in Orlando, Florida next month. Which...got this girl thinking.”

  The rolling stopped behind her. “Uh oh. I hear that tone. And that tone means one thing. Trouble,” Carina said. “The good kind.”

  Morgan laid her paintbrush in the tray on the floor and turned and faced Carina. “Want to come and mix business with pleasure with me? You could lie by the hotel pool all day, drink cocktails, read some smut while I’m at the conference. The second the conference is over for the day, I would find you and we could booze it up and be lazy together.”

  Carina jumped up and down, causing the paint on the roller to splatter all over. But it didn’t matter. The drop cloth caught the evidence of her excitement. “Girls’ weekend! Shit! We’ll have so much fun! Just you and me, being slugs, eating, drinking and catching up. I can’t wait!” Morgan ran over and hugged her friend. As much as she would miss Jake, she couldn’t wait to spend time with Carina, laughing, goofing off as only they could for three days.

  “You know the paint is supposed to go onto the wall, right?” Jake’s voice only made her smile grow and she squeezed her friend hard before letting her go. Morgan looked over and spotted him giving her paint-covered yoga pants and old t-shirt a once-over. She stuck her tongue out at him and he chuckled. “So where is the little monster?” he asked, looking around.

  Morgan wiped her hands off on her already destroyed pants. “Monster, aka Duke, is in his crate. I wasn’t going to risk him roaming freely, not with all this mouthwatering paint lying around.” She walked over and planted a kiss on Jake’s cheek. But Jake pulled her in for a real one, causing her cheeks to heat until they felt like they were on fire.

  “And that is my cue to leave,” Carina said, laughing. Morgan didn’t stop her. Carina had been helping her paint for hours. And Josh was probably missing his girl right now, too. “But leave that last wall for me.” Jake released Morgan and gave his sister a hug. “Later, brat,” Carina said to her brother.

  “I’ll give you a call tomorrow… after Jake and I have lunch with our parents,” Morgan said.

  “You better! I want to know exactly how they react to your news.” Carina gave her a wink and a wave and left.

  “I say we finish painting this room so we can christen it. What do you think?” Jake asked.

  Morgan looked at her man. He was freshly showered from practice and looking gorgeous in jeans, a t-shirt and sneakers. She was going to miss him next week. His game this weekend was home, but next Sunday’s game was away against the Kansas City Chiefs. She wished she could go with him and cheer him on, but she couldn’t up and leave, especially since she’d just started her job less than two months ago.

  “You’ve got yourself a deal,” she said, not even trying to hide the fact that she was taking in every inch of his glorious body. “Okay, I need to focus.” She fanned herself and cleared her throat. “Mind grabbing the last can of Cappuccino paint? It’s in the garage, next to the mountain of tubs I have yet to unpack.”

  “I’ll go grab the paint,” he said with a smirk. “But after we’re finished with this room, I will be stripping you out of your flimsy t-shirt and pants and claiming what’s mine.” She swallowed and released an ever-so-slight whimper. “Do your neighbors know my name yet?”

  “I’m not entirely sure,” she said with a raised brow. He loved a challenge, just like she did.

  “Then we must rectify that tonight. I want everyone to know who makes you come, who you belong to.”

  ***

  Jake

  Morgan was his. He had the career he had always wanted and a family who supported him. And now he had a dog and a spare bedroom that needed a second coat of paint. Jake couldn’t imagine life getting any better than this.

  Jake went out into the garage and found the can of paint next to two stacked blue tubs. Two small cardboard boxes lay on top of them. One was labeled pics. He glanced at the interior garage door and then back at the small box. That box could contain photos of anything, memories she had made during those years without him...years when she had been with her ex-husband. Or they could be photos that captured her childhood and his.

  He bit his lip, glanced at the door again and said, “Fuck it.” He lifted the lid and discovered hundreds of photos, all of which placed Morgan between the ages of five and eighteen. He couldn’t wait to go through these photos with Morgan, to lay them all out, maybe on the spare bedroom floor after he fucked her senseless, of course, and make fun of his bad haircuts and her gap-toothed grin. Jake returned the stack of photos to the box and reached for the one next to it. He removed the lid, expecting to see more photos of Morgan and the McGinnis crew, but instead he found something...forty-eight somethings, to be exact. All he could do was stare in disbelief… and with renewed fucking anger.

  Chapter Thirty

  Morgan

  “You didn’t open a single one. Every letter I sent you… is here in this fucking box!” he said, tossing it to the floor.

  Why had she held onto them? Why hadn’t she burned them when she had a chance?

  Why hadn’t she read them?

  Because she wouldn’t have been strong enough to follow through with her decision if she had. There had been no doubt in her mind that she would have run straight back to him and told him about the baby, the miscarriage… everything. And then where would he have been? Distraught like her? Depressed to the point that he couldn’t get out of bed some days? She didn’t know exactly how he would have reacted if he had found out back then, but there was no way she had been willing to risk it. His dream had been in reaching distance and nothing was going to screw that up.

  But as she looked in his eyes, her decision to withhold what had happened to her, to them, felt flawed. Why hadn’t she given him the benefit of the doubt? She may have been trying to protect him, but now looking back, he had deserved to know. “I’m sorry,” she said. Her eyes didn’t well with tears. Those long-awaited tears just pooled and flowed over.

  Jake raked his fingers through his hair and paced the spare bedroom. “Sorry for what, Morgan? What exactly are you sorry about?” he yelled. He walked over and dropped to his knees and sifted through the letters. When he found the one he wanted he stood and stared at her. The pain in his eyes shattered her and she knew what was going to happen next. He ripped open the envelope and withdrew the letter. “Read it,” he demanded, waving it in her face. She wanted to hold her hands over her ears and sing like a four-year-old, anything to take her away. Her hand trembled as she took the letter. “Out loud,” he said through gritted teeth.

  Although her vision was blurry and her throat felt like it was closing up, she read the last letter he had written her, dated exactly one year after she had lost the other half of her soul…

  Morgan,

  I know I have to let you go. Your silence tells me that. My head tells me that. I just wish my heart would follow their lead. Because I don’t want to love you anymore. Or dream about you. Or remember the night I made love to you under the stars. I want to stop thinking
about you every fucking second of the day. I want to move on like you have and not feel a goddamn thing. But in order for that to happen, I have to say goodbye. So this will be my last letter and my last attempt. If you love me at all, if there is any part of you that wishes to come back to me, you know where to find me. I love you, Morgan.

  Jake

  She couldn’t look at him. She didn’t want to imagine how he had felt as he put that pen to paper the day he wrote those words.

  “Say something,” he said. She didn’t need to look in his eyes to know that he was crying. She could hear it in his voice, the way his breathing stuttered as he exhaled.

  She went to speak, but nothing came out. Not words, anyway. Just sobs and a sound that originated deep within her broken soul. She must have been so lost in her own head, because she didn’t notice that her phone was ringing. Jake broke the stare-down and retrieved her phone. She had propped it against her closet door and set it to her favorite playlist while she and Carina were painting.

  “It’s the clinic,” he said, handing her the phone. He turned away and stared at the unopened letters on the floor. Her phone continued to buzz in her hand. “Answer it,” he said, his voice clipped.

  She knew she needed to answer the phone. This was her day off, which meant that there must be an emergency at the clinic. She sniffed back the tears, cleared her throat and answered the call. She heard Felicia say that a Pit Bull had been brought in and was at death’s door. She even responded that she would come in and assist Reagan in surgery, but her eyes remained on Jake. He was still standing there, his shoulders hunched over, staring at those damn letters.

  “I know you need to leave,” he said as soon as she ended the call.

  “Will you be here when I get back?”

  He turned and faced her...and showed her exactly what she was doing to him. She wanted to wipe the tears from his eyes and take away his pain, pain she had caused. “Yes. As long as you tell me right now that there will be no more secrets between us.” Her stomach dropped. “Which means...tonight, when you come back home...you will tell me whatever it is you’re keeping from me.” He shook his head. “There’s a reason you didn’t open those fucking letters. There’s a reason you kept them all these years. There’s a goddamn reason you broke up with me that night,” he shouted.

  She didn’t flinch at his tone. Actually, she welcomed it. Because she deserved to be screamed at. She didn’t deserve this man whose heart was breaking again. “I want to know what that reason is, Morgan. The real one.”

  He was right. He deserved the truth. He deserved better. “Okay,” she barely got out.

  His jaw clenched, his glassy eyes met hers. “It will probably be dark by the time you’re finished work. Text me when you’re done and Duke and I will meet you at the clinic.” He didn’t stick around for an answer, not that she was even with it enough to respond. She watched Jake walk out of the spare bedroom.

  Tonight he would learn the truth.

  And then he would say goodbye to her for good.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Morgan

  Losing a patient was difficult. But telling the patient’s owner that her dog didn’t make it, that his injuries had been too severe, that he had died on her operating table under her watch, was even more heartbreaking.

  Morgan exited the clinic and saw Jake and Duke standing on the sidewalk. She dropped to her knees and gathered Duke into her arms. He was so warm, so wiggly, so full of life. He gave her a few licks to her face before she set him down. Jake handed her the leash and they started the two-block trek back to her townhome.

  “How did the surgery go?” Jake asked. There was only concern in his voice. The anger, at least for now, was gone.

  Just wait, though. It will come.

  “He didn’t make it. Several of his organs were damaged beyond repair. Two dogs from the owner’s neighborhood had ganged up on him and… well, it was awful.”

  “I’m sorry,” Jake said.

  “Thank you. But unfortunately, it’s part of the job.” They walked along, stopping at every tree so Duke could take a sniff at God knows what. Jake didn’t try to hold her hand or force the conversation that needed to happen.

  But it was time.

  She took a deep breath and let it out. She summoned all her strength and began. “Every week a letter would arrive in my mailbox. And every week I would die a little more. And over time… I no longer recognized myself.” She heard his breath catch in his throat, but she didn’t look over at him. She kept her eyes on the sidewalk in front of her. “You were right. Back in the nook, the day you helped my mom and I move, you told me that I had no right to make the decision for the both of us. I knew that then, but my fucking fear displaced my common sense.”

  Jake stopped walking, which caused Morgan to halt right outside her townhome. “What were you scared of?” he asked.

  Despite the crisp November air, she knew she was close to breaking into a sweat. Morgan’s heart ached like an open wound. But she had to continue. “Jake, the night we broke up, the night you flew to Boston, you found me in my bed.”

  “You were sick… with the stomach flu,” he said, searching her eyes.

  She wanted to give this conversation and the man before her the respect they deserved and looked him in the eye. “I didn’t have the flu or any sickness that was being passed around the dorm at that time.”

  “I saw you. Your cheeks were flushed. You were burning up with fever.” The furrow in his brow deepened.

  “I was feverish because I was fighting an infection… an infection that I got from… ”

  “Morgan?” came a voice to her left.

  It may have been a few months, but she immediately recognized the man it belonged to.

  This can’t be happening.

  Morgan looked over and saw her ex-husband stepping out of a cab. He tripped over a crack in the sidewalk but recovered and then made his way over to her and Jake. “Owen, what are you doing here?” she asked. Morgan looked at Jake and panic washed over her. His fists were clenched, his breathing intensified, that vein in his neck was throbbing uncontrollably.

  “Since I’m in town for the conference, I thought I’d come see you, maybe talk about...us. I miss you.”

  Us? There was no us. “Owen, that’s not going to happen. Goodnight.”

  “Why? Because you’ve moved on?” He shifted his attention to Jake. “Who are you, anyway?”

  Not wise, Owen. So not smart.

  Morgan took a second and stared at the man she had once shared her life with. Owen looked different. In appearance, the way he carried himself… the way he spoke. He looked a little unkempt, not as pristine and refined. His hair was slightly disheveled and his clothes were a bit rumpled, as if he had slept in them the night before. And his voice… well, it was hard to miss the way he slurred his words. Was he drunk? She wasn’t familiar with the Owen in front of her. He rarely drank to the point of intoxication while they had been married, but right now he seemed well on his way.

  “Wait, you’re Jake McGinnis. The Philadelphia Eagles’ golden boy,” Owen said. His lips suddenly curled to form a disturbing smile. “And you’re also Carina’s brother.”

  Where was he going with this? She had no idea what was going to come out of Owen’s mouth next. Which was dangerous. Jake didn’t say a word. His icy gaze, the way Jake looked at Owen, told Morgan exactly what he wanted to do to her ex-husband. Morgan needed to end this and get Jake off that sidewalk and into her house.

  “Odd that we haven’t met in person until now, considering how close Carina and Morgan are. From the way Morgan described things, they’re practically sisters.” Owen foolishly looked Jake up and down. “I’ve met Luke, Brennan and Gabe, but never you. You were always away, never in town when Morgan and I would come home to visit her mom.” Owen looked back at Morgan. “I find that strange, like you were trying to avoid meeting me… or seeing Morgan and I together.” His eyes narrowed and he attempted to stand up straig
ht, possibly to appear bigger than his six-foot frame. Owen glared at Jake. “Every Sunday she would watch you play on television, her supposed childhood friend. She would cheer you on, get worried when you wouldn’t get up right away after a hard hit. But deep down, I knew. I knew who you really were...what you did.” Morgan saw Owen shift his weight as he drew back his fist. It didn’t take much for Jake to dodge Owen’s punch. Jake grabbed him by the lapels and threw him back, causing him to stumble along the sidewalk.

  “Owen, stop it!” she screamed.

  Jake took a step forward but Owen held his ground. “Because of you I lost her,” Owen said, pointing at Jake.

  “I didn’t cheat on her with my receptionist,” Jake growled.

  “No, you just knocked her up when she was eighteen and made it impossible for us to have children.”

  It was as if Owen’s punch had connected but was delayed, and landed right in Jake’s gut. Because all the life, all that fire she had seen in Jake’s eyes a few seconds ago had drained out of him. She looked over at Owen. She was just about to tell him to leave when he shook his head and walked away. The second he was out of sight, Jake turned and faced her.

  Betrayal, pain, and sadness radiated off him. Because of her. She wanted to throw up right there on the sidewalk.

  “The night we broke up, when you came to see me I was feverish and fighting off an infection from the miscarriage I had the day before. Allison had found me in the bathroom and had taken me to the hospital where I learned that I was ten weeks along.” His jaw dropped and his eyes welled, but there was no way she was going to withhold anything from him anymore. “But there wasn’t anything they could do. I saw our baby on that ultrasound. I saw our child’s heartbeat one minute and the next… it was gone.”