by Aly Martinez
Including risking it all.
My heart raced as I lifted my shaking hand. “Because he doesn’t matter anymore and you still do.”
His eyes flashed dark when I curled my fingers around the back of his neck. One single movement made my intentions clear.
“What are you doing?” he rumbled.
“What I should have done weeks ago.”
His eyes flared, but he didn’t move.
“Eason,” I gasped and he was right there, inches away, swallowing my desire as I pleaded for his.
His mouth hovered over mine while he searched my face. “You’re all I have left, Bree. And dammit, you were his too.”
As he straightened, I fisted a hand in the front of his shirt. “No, I wasn’t. You know it as well as I do. I was a fucking puppet in his show, and I’m done wearing the strings.”
I pressed up onto my toes, done with so much more than just Rob Winters.
I was done hurting. Done burning at the stake for a man who had never given a damn about me. But most of all, I was done pretending I didn’t want Eason on levels that had not one fucking thing to do with our shared tragedies.
As his mouth came down on mine, his lips parted, and our tongues shared their first dance, Eason made it clear he was done too. Slanting his head, he took it deeper, sealing our mouths together, but even better, he sealed everything else out. He tasted like nothing and everything as we desperately warred, seeking the control neither of us was willing to surrender.
Wrapping my arms around his neck, I tried to get impossibly closer. As if we were sharing the same thoughts, he palmed my ass, lifting me off my feet. My legs circled his hips as he carried us forward, my back hitting the wall with a loud thud.
After all the yelling he’d done, the cussing, the candles shattering—all of it—somehow it was my back against the wall that woke her up.
“Daddy!” Luna cried.
His head popped up, both of us panting, but reality slapped Eason the hardest.
“Oh, God,” he breathed, squeezing his eyes shut and lowering me back to my feet.
“It’s okay. It’s okay,” I chanted, framing his face with my hands. “Look at me.”
He shook his head but dipped to rest our foreheads together.
“It changes nothing—do you hear me? We don’t even know for sure if Rob got Jessica pregnant or not. What we do know, no matter what happened, you are her father. She loves you, and biology, one way or the other, will never change that.” I tapped my finger over his heart. “Luna is yours in the only way that truly matters, okay?”
“Yeah,” he replied, but it was neither convincing nor confident.
Luna let out another cry, and like the good father he was, Eason didn’t keep her waiting.
“Shh, baby, I’m right here,” he cooed, opening the bedroom door. “Did Daddy wake you up?”
She babbled something I couldn’t quite make out, but Eason had no trouble.
“No, nothing to be scared of. Come here. We got a visitor while you were sleeping.”
I made quick work of straightening my shirt and smoothing down the top of my hair as he carried her out.
“Look, it’s Aunt Bree,” he told her.
Taking her hand, I brought it to my lips. “Hey, sweetie.”
She leaned into Eason’s shoulder and glared at me, less than thrilled to have been woken up by the sounds of me mauling her father. Okay, fine, so she didn’t know that part, but she was still sleepy and pissed.
Something in my chest had my eyes darting away from her sweet, chubby face because I didn’t want to see it. I hadn’t been lying to Eason when I’d sworn that it didn’t matter whose DNA ran through her veins. But just like with all those pictures on Rob’s phone, with fresh eyes and the whole truth, I could see some very compelling details.
Through the years, Jessica and I had been asked countless times if we were sisters. We had different eyes—hers blue and mine green—but they were both light. We had fair skin, but we both tanned in the summer. And while we each straightened our chestnut-brown hair, we shared similar naturally wild waves.
I’d been further along than she had, but we’d been pregnant with the girls at the same time. We used to joke that they would probably come out looking like twins. Jessica was obviously working with slightly more information than I was, but there was no denying Luna and Madison looked alike.
Whether it was because of their mothers’ similarities or the fact that they shared a father, I had no idea. However, it was up to Eason if we would ever find out.
“Do you need to get back to the kids?” he asked, snapping my attention back to his.
I cleared my throat, praying he couldn’t read my mind. “I can if you want time alone.”
“And if I don’t?”
I smiled, a whole swarm of butterflies taking flight in my stomach. “Then I’m here for whatever you need.”
He dipped his head with gratitude, plastered on a grin that never made it to his eyes, and lifted his daughter into the air above his head. “All right, cranky pants. Short nap means early bedtime, but we have the whole afternoon ahead of us. What are we doing today, ladies?”
BREE
The day was somber, both in mood and in view. An afternoon fog rolled in, grounding us to the cabin—not that Eason was up for doing much more than sitting on the couch and staring at his daughter.
They colored.
He let her brush his hair.
They even played a lively game of “Luna, where are you?” in which she sat in front of him and he pretended he couldn’t see her.
I tried to stay out of their way by tidying up the cabin and eventually preparing soup and grilled cheese for dinner. But every so often, I’d feel Eason’s gaze slide my way. I didn’t have to look at him for my cheeks to heat or my stomach to flip.
Holy shit. Had I really kissed him? And oh, holy shit one further… Had he really kissed me back?
Honestly, what God-awful timing. He’d just found out that his daughter might not be his. Obviously, that’s an appropriate time to put the moves on a man. But it didn’t feel wrong, either. Emotions were high, the shards of our broken hearts crunching on the floor beneath our feet, but just as it had always been, even while we’d been shattered and gasping for breath, it was just Eason and me, surviving in the only way we knew how: together.
We ate and I was impressed he actually had an appetite.
I drew Luna a bath, and he sat on the floor next to her, splashing his hand in the water, the most beautiful love I’d ever seen blazing from his eyes.
While he got her ready for bed, I swept already clean floors, wiped down crumbless counters, and reorganized the clutter-free fridge. Unfortunately, I’d had enough practice in being there for Eason in the midst of catastrophic upheaval, but the kiss had me reeling. There were lines and boundaries now that had never been there before. Only a day earlier, a hug had been just a show of support or an offering of comfort.
It also was entirely possible I was reading too much into our kiss. Maybe it was just a moment of weakness, the desperate desire to replace his anguish with pleasure.
Was it different now that I knew how he tasted?
Was a touch more than a touch now that I knew how it felt to have his strong hands gripping my ass?
Had it been a one-time thing?
Should I apologize?
Kiss him again?
Launch myself into his arms?
Grab my keys and…
“You okay?” he asked, suddenly appearing outside Luna’s room, quietly pulling the door shut behind him.
“Oh, um…yeah. Sorry, I was zoning out.” I put the dish I was redrying back in the cabinet and discarded the towel next to the sink. “How’d it go in there? Is she asleep?”
He blew out a hard exhale and gripped the back of his neck, his tattooed forearm giving a spectacular show. “She’s exhausted, so she fought it for a while, but I think she’s finally out.”
“That’s goo
d.”
“Mmm,” he hummed, the long top of his blond hair falling into his face when he looked down at his feet.
My stomach knotted as an awkward silence blanketed the room. I hadn’t been with anyone other than Rob in almost a decade, so I had no idea what the proper protocol was after you put the moves on your closest friend on what was possibly the hardest day of his life. And besides looking purely mouthwatering standing there, Eason was giving me no clues to work with, either.
Though it might have been the most telling part of all. That awkwardness. The uncomfortable silence. Insecurities. That wasn’t us.
Us was something I knew how to do.
After padding barefoot around the counter, I stopped in front of him. “How ya holding up?”
His head tipped back and his weary eyes flashed open. “I’m tired. I need to hit the bed before I pass out standing up.”
“Yeah. Of course. I could sleep for a night or twelve too.”
He nodded and gave my hip a squeeze before walking past me to the bedroom on the other side of the living area.
Right. Okay, so maybe I was overthinking things for nothing—again. This wasn’t eighth grade. Adults could kiss and it not be a big deal. Tomorrow morning, we’d probably laugh about it. I might even make a joke about how absolutely perfect his lips were…
Shit.
But it was a conversation for another day. He was exhausted. That was fine. REM provided a plethora of mental and emotional benefits. I would never deny him that—not even for my own selfish sanity.
I crossed my arms over my chest and glanced around the living room. The couch looked about as comfortable as a pile of rocks, but the cushions pulled off the back, so I hoped I’d get lucky and find a sofa bed.
Eason stopped at the doorway, his chin meeting his shoulder as he looked back at me. “You coming?”
“I’m sorry, what?”
“To bed. You coming?”
I blinked and my stomach dipped, that damn schoolgirl inside me already sprinting his way. The wiser, more rational Bree who was freaking the fuck out stood like a statue staring at him.
What did that even mean? He was expecting me to sleep in the same bed with him? Like actual sleeping? Or was he expressing the more suggestive use of the term sleeping together?
I mean, honestly, it didn’t change my answer. Though clarification would give me a heads-up on which DEFCON I needed to alert.
“Um, yes?”
With his confusion matching my own, he turned all the way around. “Okay? Then what’s the holdup? Did you bring something to sleep in, or do you need a tee?”
I glanced at my bag, which he had insisted on retrieving from the car earlier, and tried to remember what I’d packed. Unsure where the day would take me, I’d thrown a few things into a duffel, though none of them were the proper attire to share a bed with a man for the first time. Especially not with that man being Eason Maxwell.
I had pajamas. Flannel pants and a matching top that were almost as attractive as a burlap sack. And that’s not even scratching the surface on the sensible underwear and full-coverage bra. Outstanding. Every man’s fantasy.
I blinked again, smiling through the horror. “A T-shirt would be great.”
“You got it.” He disappeared into the room, and I took a moment to practice a little breathing exercise I liked to call hyperventilating.
Jesus, what the hell was wrong with me? It was Eason. The last man on Earth I should have been nervous around. But this wasn’t one of our nights around the firepit. Or at least it wasn’t for me. For all I knew, he was in there thinking this was nothing more than a casual sleepover between two friends.
Damn. The thought of our kiss meaning nothing to him shouldn’t have hurt as bad as it did.
This caused more hyperventilating, which in turn caused me to continue standing in the living room and avoiding the inevitable.
“Bree.” He stuck his head around the doorjamb. “Hustle up. You got the bathroom first.”
Awesome. We were sharing a shower too. “On my way.”
We were quiet for the most part as we got ready for bed. His hand found my hip more than once as we slid past each other in the small room, most of the space occupied by a king-sized bed and two rustic end tables. His touch never lingered, leaving me more confused on what “coming to bed” entailed in Eason’s mind. But I was never one to go into a situation unprepared.
I spent an obscene amount of time in the bathroom, shaving and plucking, brushing my teeth, and styling my hair into something that I hoped would be attractive without the use of the blow dryer I had not brought. I put on makeup and then took it off, not wanting to look too eager. Seriously, who puts makeup on before bed? Besides, Eason had seen me at my worst, so I wasn’t sure my efforts were even worth it. They made me feel better though.
All of my trouble fell to the wayside as I walked out of the bathroom and found him sound asleep on top of the duvet, shirtless in a pair of sweats, lights still on, his phone on his chest, his legs crossed at the ankles.
I was almost as relieved as I was disappointed.
He didn’t budge as I covered him with a blanket and stealthily moved his phone to the nightstand. His charging cord was lying there, so I plugged it in and then turned the lamp off.
Light from the moon illuminated the space. However, the face of Eason’s cell glowed brighter. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d looked at his phone. He let the kids play on it even after I’d warned him not to. He thought it was hilarious that, at not even two years old, Madison and Luna would take ridiculous and usually accidental selfies. Asher got in on the action too and would swipe Eason’s phone to make videos of the new moves he’d learned in karate. Eason had told me once that his favorite part of the day was opening his camera roll to see what surprises the kids had left him.
He must have had a million hilarious and heartwarming images he could have used instead, but right then, his home screen was a picture of me sitting on the floor, Luna in my lap, Madison at my side. My mouth was open with laugher as Asher clung to my neck from behind. It had only been a week or so ago, and I remembered the day well. I’d just beaten Ash in a highly competitive game of Memory, and he had declared a dog pile on me for cheating. I had no idea Eason had taken the photo, much less programmed it to his home screen.
I stared at it until the light dimmed and then extinguished.
Overwhelmed by emotion, I brought a hand up to cover my mouth. It was something so simple. But after everything we’d been through, that one picture meant more to me than he could ever have known. I’d spent the last two days pouring over old phone records and pictures, clawing my way down the rabbit hole of a man who had claimed to love me for better or worse but destroyed our family with his every lying, cheating breath. Meanwhile, Eason had spent the last year taking care of a family that wasn’t his own—at least not by blood—to the point that he kept a picture of us front and center on his phone—and I had a sneaking suspicion in his heart as well.
How was he so incredible? And how had I not seen it all those years?
Oh, right, because we weren’t Rob and Jessica, looking for something new and exciting when we already had it all. What a joke.
I didn’t know what the thing between Eason and me was or what it might grow into, but I never wanted to look back and wonder if we were only trying to get back at them for the way they had broken us.
I wanted Eason, despite it all.
That afternoon, while I’d been safe in his arms, his mouth moving over mine, feeling more alive than ever had solidified that for me. But risking him, risking us, for a moment of passion wasn’t something I could do in good conscience. Our lives were so intertwined that the slightest misstep could be earth-shattering for everyone—including the kids.
Smiling down at him, I rested my palm on the side of his face. Poor guy was so tired he didn’t even stir. “We’ll get there,” I whispered. “Together.”
EASON
Th
e house was silent as I roused from a desperately needed deep sleep. For several beats, I had no idea where I was or even what month it was. But as the exhaustion cleared from my brain, everything came flooding back.
The phone.
The affair.
Luna. God, Luna.
And as I stretched my arm out to the side, silky skin met my fingertips.
Bree.
A smile pulled at my lips as I glanced over at her. Sound asleep on her side, facing me, her chestnut hair cascading on the pillow around her. It was still dark out, so I couldn’t see much, but I didn’t need a light to know she was too fucking far away from me. After that kiss, she could have been on top of me and it still wouldn’t have been close enough.
Fuck me. That kiss.
Bree had always been sexy; that was not something I’d missed just because she was my friend. I’d noticed her ass every time she’d come back from a run in those skintight shorts. There had been too many nights when a chill had caught her by the firepit, her tank top doing nothing to hide the peaks of her nipples. And let’s not even get me started on those fucking skirts and heels she wore to work. I hated every man at Prism on a daily basis because they got to stare at her all day. All I got was to see her in the moments before work and, if I was really lucky, as she walked up the stairs to change when she got home.
But it wasn’t all about physical desire with Bree. I was drawn to her in ways I’d never experienced before. With anyone. She was fierce and confident and poised to the point that she could run the entire world if she wanted. She certainly had a way of keeping me in line. Although it had to be said that I took much pleasure in getting under her gorgeous skin every now and then.
She was thoughtful when no one was watching, and she’d deny everything if she got caught.
Her green eyes were beautiful, but never more so than when she looked at her children. Two of the luckiest kids I’d ever meet.
