by Kaylea Cross
Her fingers were gentle against his bare cheek. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. It must have been hell for you.”
Emily had always known what was in his heart. Better than he did. And she knew how torn up he was over having to take Tehrazzi’s life.
The tears he’d kept at bay suddenly flooded his eyes and he looked away. Maybe it was because he was exhausted or still suffering the after effects of the anesthetic, or the fact he kept seeing Emily jumping on that damn boat as it pulled away from the dock, but he couldn’t keep up the brave front anymore. His voice cracked despite himself. “I stayed with him,” he said unsteadily. “’Till it was over.”
Nodding, she stared up at him with loving eyes. But they were bruised underneath. And her skin was too pale, almost transparent. Fragile, yet she was loyal and goddamn brave enough to break his heart. “So he wasn’t alone at the end,” Emily finished quietly.
The end... The words echoed in his head as he stared through tear-blurred eyes at the woman he’d never stopped loving. She believed she didn’t have much time left. Sweat bloomed on his upper lip. Oh, sweet Jesus, she couldn’t die.
Reeling from the spurt of panic, Luke grabbed Emily’s shoulder in a desperate grip. “Don’t you leave me, Em.” She’d been through hell and back, but she had so much strength inside of her. Enough to fight this.
She stared at him, lips parting in surprise. He was coming unglued and he knew it, but he couldn’t stop. The thought of her dying made him feel like someone was clawing out his insides with a red-hot poker. “I couldn’t take that. You’ve gotta fight this, Em.” He didn’t deserve her. He’d never deserved her, but he was going to make up for that. He would make her live, God dammit.
She licked her lips. “I’m trying, Luke.”
Not good enough. “No. You have to beat it.” He shook her once, aware he was on the verge of having a meltdown, but his legendary cool was gone. “You understand me? You have to win. Promise me.”
Emily smiled and wiped his tears away before they could fall. “I’ve waited over twenty years to get you back. You think I’d leave you now?” She pressed a hard kiss to his lips, as good as a vow. “Not a chance. Now come on. Let’s get you tucked into bed.”
The sick, hollow feeling in his gut remained as she got him back into bed and tucked the covers around him. Her hands were so gentle.
“Need anything else?”
“You,” he answered roughly, pulling her down beside him, desperate to feel her warm and alive up against his body. “God dammit, Em, I need you.”
Grabbing her as tight as he could with his bandaged arm in the way, Luke buried his face in her neck and shook. Holding onto her, he fought his darkest fear and prayed he wasn’t too late. “I’m sorry,” he managed finally. “For everything. For every damn time I did something that hurt you.” Sorry didn’t come close to cutting it, but he didn’t know what else to say. Christ, if he could go back in time to the day he’d left her, he’d undo all of it. So many things in his life he wished he’d done differently.
“I know,” she murmured, her voice soft and full of understanding. “And I forgive you. Now it’s time to forgive yourself.”
He wasn’t sure he could. Not yet. Maybe never.
He couldn’t go back and fix everything. Now he could only go forward. He bit down on the inside of his cheek to hold back the sob that rose up from the depths of his chest. “Need you,” he repeated hoarsely.
“Luke, you’ve got me. You’ve always had me, and you know it.”
He did, and he had. God, he was such an asshole.
She cradled him like a child and broke his heart all over again. “I’m willing to start over if you are,” she said softly.
He nodded, unable to speak, and pressed his face hard against her. A shudder wracked him and then a sob burst free, shaming him.
“Shhh,” she soothed, cradling him tighter. Her hands smoothed over his hair and neck, the gesture achingly familiar, so comforting. “It’s okay to let go now. You know you’re safe with me.”
He stopped fighting the inevitable and lost it. Held securely in her arms, Luke put his head down and cried for the first time in memory. It all poured out. The guilt over leaving her and Rayne; the lonely years without her; the regret of not fixing things sooner. Losing Davis. The pain of having to kill Tehrazzi and the fear he might still lose Emily. It all came out in an agonizing blast. Em handled it perfectly because she didn’t say a word. She held him through it, caressing his hair and his shuddering back. When it was over, his eyes were so swollen he could hardly open them. He’d soaked the front of her sweater. He tried to wipe at it, but she merely sat up and pulled it over her head.
Oh, Christ yes. “Take it all off.” His words were rough and gravelly. He needed to feel her naked against him, to reassure himself she was safe and real. He was starved for it.
She paused only a moment before taking off the rest, including her bra. Facing him naked with the morning sun filtering through the blinds, his heart swelled at the sight of her, scars and all. So beautiful and courageous he thought he might cry again. Then she eased down beside him and drew his head to her naked chest. The scent of vanilla and clean female skin drifted up, surrounding him like a cozy blanket. Luke rested his cheek on the softness of her left breast and kissed the scars on her right side, humbled by her trust. “I love you so much, Em.”
In answer she kissed the top of his head and cuddled in closer. “Love you too. Now go to sleep.”
The demons that had driven him for so long had finally been laid to rest. After all these years apart, they would finally have a second chance. He was damn well going to get it right this time.
Surrounded by Emily’s loving arms, he heaved a weary sigh and let himself fall into a deep, healing sleep.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Charleston, SC
Three months later
“Morning, sleepyhead.”
Emily smiled at the feel of Luke’s lips against her bare shoulder. “Morning,” she said without opening her eyes, and fought a yawn. She was so damn tired all the time.
More delicious kisses skimmed across her skin and she sighed in pleasure. “Keep that up and you might turn radioactive.”
“I’ll risk it.” He leaned over her and kissed her forehead, his thumb rubbing across the new wedding band on her left hand. He’d had her old one melted down and remade for the ceremony at St. Michael’s a few weeks back. “Still tired?”
“Yes.” Always.
“Want some tea?”
“Mmm, please.” She didn’t want to face that she had another radiation treatment in a few hours. Five days a week, for six weeks. She was only on day four.
The first treatment had made her so queasy she’d made Luke pull over on the way home so she could throw up at the side of the road. He’d tried to hold the ends of her wig back for her but she’d slapped him away, annoyed and embarrassed. Later, she’d felt badly. He’d only wanted to help. He’d been fussing over her like a mother hen ever since he’d come back to Bryn’s house in Beirut.
But she didn’t want to think about Beirut anymore. That was all in the past. She needed to focus on the future. Right now though, her eyelids were too heavy to pull open. She wasn’t nauseated anymore, and that was a gift in itself. The mattress was soft beneath her and the warmth of the comforter was so delicious that she let herself slide back into sleep.
She stirred sometime later when a puff of cool air hit her legs, then Luke was rubbing his face against her naked stomach. The perfect smoothness of his cheeks made her smile. He must have shaved again before coming back upstairs. He was always considerate of her that way, careful not to abrade her tender skin now that she marked so easily. The absence of the beard pleased her immensely, and not just because his clean-shaven skin felt good against hers. It meant he wasn’t going back overseas, and that nobody would call him in the middle of the night to respond to some terrorism crisis. Though she gave him another month, tops, before he dove ba
ck into some kind of security consulting work. Otherwise he’d wind up pacing around like a caged animal being in the house with her all the time.
Hot kisses and slow caresses trailed across her stomach and over one hip bone, starting a delicious throb between her thighs. Sighing, Emily eased a hand into his short, thick hair and stretched out, waiting for him to reach the vulnerable folds between her legs. Dying with the anticipation of it.
His fingers brushed over her swelling flesh, drawing a soft moan from her throat as he teased her. More, she willed him, opening for his touch. He shifted a little, and she caught the faint click of a teacup being placed in its saucer before his hands went to her thighs to hold her still. Without warning, she felt a shocking warmth between her legs. “Oh!” she cried, jerking up on her elbows.
A hot, smooth stroke followed her exclamation, right over her most sensitive flesh. His tongue, but superheated. It felt so good it loosened her muscles and made her head fall back. “Luke...” God, had he taken a sip of her tea before going down on her?
The low growl of enjoyment that vibrated against her core was his only response before he parted her with his fingers and lapped at her like melting ice cream. She moaned and lifted her hips, helpless under the lash of decadent pleasure. He stroked slow and steady against her sensitive flesh, licking tenderly over her swelling clit, flicking his tongue over it. Her hands sank into his hair again. It seemed like forever since they’d been intimate. “Luke...”
He stopped, and a second later his hand shot out from beneath the blankets to grab the fragile handle of her teacup. It disappeared beneath the comforter and a moment later his hot tongue treated her to another luscious caress. Her eyes closed in bliss as she fell back against the mattress and let him love her. The pleasure rose soft and bright inside her, sharpening when he sucked on her clit gently. He slid a finger inside and rubbed right over the sweet spot that made her twist and moan, his tongue licking slow and soft until he had her panting and pressing into his touch.
It was always like this with him. He turned her on so fast she was on the verge of coming within minutes, and knowing he relished every second of her response only made it hotter. The feel of his fingers moving inside her amplified the pleasure tenfold.
Her body moved intuitively beneath his touch while he held her in place, drawing out the pleasure. Emily was liquid with it, desperate for release when he suddenly stopped. Gasping, she raised the covers. “What—”
Luke moved over her, settling atop her as he raised her legs and gently brought her knees over his broad shoulders. “I want to feel you come around me,” he whispered, leaning down to kiss her.
She tasted herself and spicy chai tea on his lips before his tongue delved inside to caress hers. Then he shifted and entered her with a smooth thrust that made her body sing. She cried out into his mouth and grabbed his upper arms, the muscles bulging beneath her fingers as he shifted forward.
Trembling, she opened her eyes and stared up at him, waiting. His bottomless brown eyes gazed back at her, full of hunger and tenderness. “I love you,” he murmured, pulling back.
God, he was so thick and hard inside her. She struggled to form the words, her body throbbing, straining for release. “I l-love you t—”
Luke surged forward, the position seating him impossibly deep. It could have hurt if he hadn’t been so careful with her. But he moved gently within her, using that smooth pumping motion he knew made her wild.
The intense friction was incredible. “Ohhh...”
“Mmm, I know.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “God you’re gorgeous.”
Emily clenched her hands around his biceps and cried out, catching fire in his arms. When he finally reached one hand between them to stroke her aching clit, she thought she’d scream from the pleasure. “More,” she begged, struggling to open wider, give him better access.
Expert fingers moved in sweet, unhurried circles over her slick flesh. “Yeah. Feel me, Em. Feel how good it is.” He was magnificent rising and falling above her, his whole body a fluid ripple of muscle and bone, eyes intent on her face.
“Ah God, Luke...”
“Come for me then, baby.” He crooned it, moving faster now in an endless, sensual rhythm. Short, sharp strokes that caressed her inner walls and hit just the right place over and over.
Her body tightened around him, throbbed, the pressure building impossibly high. Throwing her head back, she let out a fractured moan as her body exploded around him. Waves of pleasure coursed through her, her heart turning over when he reared back and groaned with his own release, muscles standing out in his chest and shoulders and arms. When it faded, he gently unhooked her quivering legs from his shoulders and settled them on the bed before laying his head on her, right over her incision site and the scar where the IV port had been.
Trying to catch her breath, Emily wrapped her arms around him. She stroked his damp hair and smoothed her fingers over the healed scars in his left shoulder.
Luke sighed and nestled in closer, tucking his hands beneath her back. “I love retirement.”
Laughing breathlessly, she kissed the top of his dark head. She loved this part of it too. Things hadn’t always been easy since they’d come back stateside, though. He still slept with a loaded pistol in the bedside table. His startle reflex was more noticeable now that they were home and she picked up on the tension in him whenever they were in a crowd or in heavy traffic. As though he was still on alert for threats. It would probably fade in time, but he’d always carry that trait with him to some extent. His time in the military and the field had changed him forever.
They were learning about each other all over again, but this time without her walking on eggshells. She was simply herself, and more than a few times her stubbornness or strong opinions had shocked him into silence. She didn’t go out of her way to avoid conflict with him, and she’d had to learn how to give up some of her responsibilities around the house. He’d told her he needed to be needed, and she was taking him at his word. All in all, the transition was going smoothly.
Luke still had nightmares sometimes, and he was pretty closed up about them. Didn’t want to talk about whatever had made him wake up in a sweat. At least he let her hold him most of the time, unless it was a really bad one. Like the other night when he’d risen from their bed without a word and not responded to her calling after him. When those kinds of nightmares came, he retreated downstairs or out of the house for a while. And she let him go.
As for her, she tried to put the dark memories behind her and focus on her life with Luke. Though these days it seemed most of her energy was consumed by her ongoing battle with the cancer.
At least she’d responded well to the chemo. Better than her doctors had anticipated. But she faced plenty more radiation treatments that left her feeling like she had a permanent flu. After that, they’d give her body some time to heal and keep monitoring her blood for cancer cells. Though no one had said “remission” to her yet, everybody had their fingers crossed. It kept her going. Well, that and Luke. Not that he gave her a choice, but so far she was winning the war, one battle at a time. She prayed it stayed that way.
Emily moaned a protest when Luke pulled away and went into the bathroom. He came back and cleaned her up with a warm damp cloth, then pulled on a shirt, boxer briefs and jeans. “Come on,” he said, handing her a robe.
“But we don’t have to leave for at least another hour,” she grumbled, already dreading the next dose of radiation.
“The sun’s out. I want to take you outside for a bit.”
Sighing, she sat up and slid into the robe, then let out a squeak when he gathered her up and lifted her into his arms.
“Your shoulder,” she admonished, squirming away.
He held her tighter. “My shoulder’s fine. More than strong enough to carry you, lightweight.” Pushing the door open, he took her downstairs and through the kitchen out to the back porch. He set her on the porch swing and tucked a quilt around her before di
sappearing back into the house.
Snuggled up beneath the wedding ring-pattern quilt, she looked out over the garden awakening from its long winter slumber. Spring in Charleston was a glorious thing. The bright morning light spilled over the tender, unfurling plants that raised their tentative faces toward the warm sunshine. Life. So fragile and sweet. Precious beyond measure.
The screen door on the porch creaked as Luke came out carrying a steaming mug in one hand and a cup and saucer in another. Emily smiled and lifted the quilt so he could slide under it next to her, and accepted her fresh cup of tea. “Thank you.”
“Welcome.” Settling back, he laid an arm across her shoulders and set the swing rocking gently with his foot. The steam from their drinks curled into the breath of cool, salt-scented breeze that ruffled the palmetto fronds. His loving smile warmed her to her toes.
It was eerie, sitting there with him. Like she’d been swept back in time to when they were first married. She hated that they’d lost so many years in between...
No more of that.
They were together now, and that’s all that mattered. She intended to make the most of whatever time they had left together. Whether it was a day or another few decades.
Tilting her head, she admired Luke’s chiseled profile, and the leanness of his square jaw. Every day she woke up with him cradling her tight against his body, she wanted to pinch herself. However hard he pushed her in her fight, it was worth it just to have his arms around her each morning.
“What?” he asked, meeting her gaze. The swing rocked forward, and a shaft of sunlight filtering through the crepe myrtles transformed his eyes into a kaleidoscope of chocolate and coffee. A robin twilled somewhere in the yard.
“You sure you’re not going to go crazy being cooped up with me? Could get boring real fast for a man who’s lived on the edge his whole adult life.” He was already feeling it, though he’d never admit that.
