Deny Me (Southern Nights Enigma Book 4)

by Ella Sheridan

  When they arrived, Warren reached out a hand to shake his. “We weren’t sure if you’d be released in time, King. Thank you for being here.”

  “We wouldn’t not come,” King said, Charlotte nodding at his side. “Wes deserves nothing less.”

  “I cannot tell you how sorry we are,” Christy began, voice thick with tears.

  “No.” King shook his head. “There’s nothing for you to be sorry for. Hugh made his choices; I just wish I could have seen it earlier.” Wes might still be alive if he had.

  Christy’s tears tracked down her cheeks, and Charlotte took the woman in her arms. King knew she had to hurt, but she gave herself anyway, just like she always did. His woman was special, a once-in-a-lifetime find. He knew that now. Nothing would tear him away from her again.

  When Christy released Charlotte, King took her hand and led her toward the front. Some mourners were standing before the casket, but King turned right, toward the spots Charlotte’s parents had saved them on the front pew. King’s parents sat in the family pew opposite, but he didn’t acknowledge them. Life was too short; Wes had proved that. Instead he sat next to Charlotte and stared at his cousin’s casket. The man he’d once considered his best friend, the man he’d loved since childhood. He’d said his goodbyes the day he found Wes dead. Today was just a formality, closure, and then he and Charlotte could get on with the rest of their lives. Together.

  But that hole in his heart would be there forever.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Saint drove them home after the church service. Much as Charlotte wanted to push herself to go to the graveside, she was seriously flagging after an hour sitting in the pew. It wasn’t even the exhaustion that pushed her to go home, however; it was King. If she hurt like this, he must hurt far worse, and the thought of him in pain eclipsed everything else. Her parents assured her she should rest while refusing to look at King, something she’d have to deal with later, but for now she hurt too much, and not just from the gunshot.

  Back at the mansion she took some painkillers and spent a glorious three hours asleep with King spooning her back. If she could have stayed there forever, she would have, but responsibilities awaited. After a long shower to get the smell of antiseptic off her body, something showering at the hospital had somehow failed to manage, she dressed carefully. The sight of King, naked aside from the bandage covering one side of his perfect belly, went a long way toward boosting her courage for what lay ahead.

  “Keep watching me like that and I might be tempted to delay our arrival at pre-dinner drinks,” he said. Just before his boxer-briefs covered his cock, she caught a firming there that had her own interest stirring.

  “You know what the doctor said about that.”

  “Yeah, well”—King caught up his slacks and pulled them carefully on—“that was before I was gifted with hours of your perfect ass against me.”

  She’d enjoyed those hours too. But even as the thought made her smile, it also made her worry. From the concern that tightened King’s expression, he caught the dual emotions. He came over and sat beside her on the bed, the press of their thighs against each other warming her despite her unease.

  “What are you thinking about, angel?”

  That she didn’t want to deal with her parents right now. Tonight. Ever. But that wasn’t realistic, and facing her parents’ animosity had to be done.

  “I don’t know how this is gonna go, King.” Her parents’ approval wasn’t necessary for her to be with him, but living with their disapproval wasn’t something she wanted to do either. It would certainly make him visiting her here difficult, and yet she wasn’t ready to move out, not with Sophia just arriving. She wanted to help Becky as much as possible for the first few weeks, maybe months.

  And that was all beside the point of whether or not King actually wanted her with him, in his home, in his life.

  Releasing the hand he’d grasped, King reached up and tipped her chin until it was at just the right angle for his kiss. The warmth of his lips, the tenderness of his touch—it was magic. Witchcraft. The jumble of thoughts and nerves roiling inside her subsided in that moment. Whatever they needed to do, they’d manage together.

  King pulled back before the kiss became too involved, a small grin pulling at his lips when she protested. “Don’t want to tempt either one of us,” he said despite the way the ice-blue intensity of his gaze seared her. His thumb traced her damp bottom lip. “I love you, angel. So much of my life was empty, and it took coming back to you to realize what was missing. I’m not giving that up for anything.”

  “King.” This man was everything. Absolutely everything. How had she spent so many years without him? “I love you too, so much.”

  “Whatever happens with your parents, we’ll work it out.”

  “Okay.” Another kiss calmed her nerves enough that she could finally break away. “Time to face the music then.”

  King looked supremely confident as he took her hand and led her to the door. Not smug, just…self-assured. The man had faced down a gun to protect her and save Sophia; she shouldn’t be surprised. What were a couple of unhappy parents compared to that, right? It would be temporary; no one could know King for long and hate him. She reminded herself of that fact repeatedly as they exited the elevator on the first floor and walked together to the front sitting room where she knew her parents were waiting.

  Ben and Kim Alexander sat together on one of the couches occupying the center of the room, wineglasses in hand. Her mom glanced up as they entered, fingers intertwined. She took it all in with a sweep of her gaze, then stood. “I know alcohol and painkillers don’t mix, so I had Ruth bring some ginger ale and Coke. Which would you like?”

  Charlotte’s heart sank at the formality in her mom’s voice, but determined to make this work, she squeezed King’s hand. “A Coke, Mom, please.”

  King murmured a request for a ginger ale, thanking her mom warmly when she brought over his glass. She gave him a polite smile, handed Charlotte her Coke, then returned to her seat beside her husband.

  Ben cleared his throat. “King, we want to express our condolences. Wes’s death was…a tremendous blow. We also know he was the member of your family you were closest to. We’re truly sorry for your loss.”

  King eased back against the seat, his drink in one hand and Charlotte’s hand in the other. She didn’t miss his slight grimace when his back met the cushion, but he didn’t complain. He was too good at hiding his pain—she had a feeling she’d need to watch close to make sure he didn’t overdo. “I’m sorry for your loss as well,” he said, bringing her hand over to settle on his thigh. “You treated Wes like family. I’m glad he had you.”

  His glance her way, including her in that last sentiment, made her heart ache. This man loved her, but he wouldn’t begrudge her anything that had gone between her and Wes. He didn’t resent her grief. He didn’t resent her for the years they’d spent apart.

  She’d been given the most special gift when he came back into her life. She only hoped he felt the same.

  King sipped his drink, settled it on his opposite thigh. “Ben…” He paused a moment, his gaze searching their faces. “Kim, I understand how you must feel about me. Charlotte has explained what happened, and I honestly cannot imagine what she went through. What she lost.” He cleared his throat. “I’m barely starting to understand what we lost. But—”

  Her dad held up a hand. “King…”

  They waited, Charlotte with her breath held, for what he had to say.

  “I agree,” he finally continued. “You can’t know what Charlotte’s miscarriage did to us. We mourned the future we had imagined, certainly, but more importantly we faced the very real possibility that our daughter would die. That isn’t something any parent should have to face.” A pause descended, and Charlotte wondered if he was thinking of Warren and Christy, of the loss of both their sons in one week. “Your…leaving…became mixed up with what we experienced as a family, right or not. But”—he took K
im’s hand—“we do know you didn’t cause what happened. It might take some time for us to work through that, but we know it nonetheless.”

  King ducked his head. Would they ever be as close as they had once been? Looking at King as he processed her dad’s words, she wasn’t certain it mattered. The past was the past. They had to look to the future, and whatever relationship was built out of that, the important thing now was her and King.

  “I appreciate that, sir,” King finally said, his tone and the expression in his eyes sincere. Her parents nodded in response, and Kim eased the conversation into less emotional waters as they sipped their drinks. Not long after, Ruth called them in to dinner. The housekeeper’s glare when she looked at King was weaker than before, Charlotte noticed, and another knot in her stomach loosened. They ate, the tension of the past week dissipating into something almost congenial, and by the time she and King left the table, Charlotte felt hope budding.

  It was good to feel hope again. Good to look to the future, not be in bondage to the past. And speaking of the future…

  They returned to Charlotte’s floor together and walked down the hall to the guest suite. Charlotte knocked, waiting for Becky’s call to enter.

  Inside, the lights were dim, only a couple of lamps illuminating a half-finished dinner tray on the coffee table and blankets, diapers, wipes, toys and more scattered around the room. Becky paced the length of the living area with Sophia on her shoulder. The baby had tears on her face but seemed to finally be sleeping. Becky gave a tired chuckle as they came in. “She only wants to sleep when I’m standing up.”

  Charlotte’s dismay kicked up. She’d been sleeping and Becky had needed her. But it was King who arrowed directly for the new mom and baby. “Let me,” he said. Charlotte wanted to protest that he should rest, but the steel in his face as he scooped the baby off Becky’s shoulder and transferred her to his own kept her quiet. He wanted to help; she wouldn’t deny him that.

  Becky sagged with relief and joined Charlotte on the couch. After the mutual “how are yous,” Becky picked at her dinner, both of them following King’s progress as he paced with the little one.

  “She’s darling, Becky,” Charlotte said.

  Becky watched a bit sourly as King eased into a nearby armchair without Sophia making a peep of protest. “I think so too, when I actually sleep.”

  Charlotte laughed. “I think that’s pretty typical for new moms. Ask for help. Mom is here, and so am I.”

  “You need to recover,” Becky protested. “But I will. Kim is here often.” She hesitated. “She’s hiring a nanny.”

  Charlotte had discussed it with her mom and thoroughly approved, but Becky’s tone told her she was uncertain about the fact. “Does that bother you?”

  Becky shrugged. “Shouldn’t I be able to do this on my own?”

  Charlotte started to protest, but King pre-empted her. “No, you shouldn’t. Moms shouldn’t have to do this on their own, Becky.” His big hand covered Sophia’s entire back where he held her in the hollow below his collarbone. “Some do, but the people around you are in a position to help you, so why shouldn’t we make this easier? Sophia won’t love you less, and you won’t be miserable with fatigue and worry. That’s the best baby gift anyone can give.”

  “The nanny will be here a few hours a day so you can get schoolwork done and nap if you need to,” Charlotte added. “She’s here to help, not take over. I think once you get used to it, you’ll be able to relax. Besides, Mom and I will be in here plenty to steal some time with Sophia too.”

  Becky grinned. “Kim says I can’t be greedy since I get to do all the feedings now that Sophia is nursing well. Kim wants rocking time.”

  They talked a bit more, long enough that Charlotte glanced over finally and saw King with Sophia still on his shoulder, sound asleep in the chair.

  “They’re cute, aren’t they?” Becky teased.

  “They are.” Maybe it was the painkillers making her tired, but tears sprang to her eyes at the sight.

  “Maybe that will be King and your baby someday.”

  Charlotte swallowed, then told Becky something she’d never told anyone but her parents and King before. “I can’t have children.” The words were rough, emotional, but she got them out anyway. It was time. With King she was whole; children weren’t an absolute necessity for that. “We might consider adopting someday, maybe. Who knows? For now, though”—she patted Becky’s hand—“we’ve got each other, and that’s enough.”

  Not long after, Sophia woke up hungry, and Charlotte and King walked back to their room after reminding Becky to call them for help if she needed it overnight. King closed the door behind them, and the weight of the day dragged Charlotte down to the bed before she could even shed her clothes to be more comfortable. It was King who performed that duty, stripping her to her panties and him to his boxers before climbing into the bed behind her and cuddling up just as he had that afternoon.

  “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be,” he whispered in her ear, his hands on her ribs and low on her pelvis, holding her close against him. He dosed back off before she could agree.

  No, they didn’t need anyone or anything else. Together, just like this, they were enough.

  Epilogue

  “I’m telling you, Dain,” Saint said, pointing a tortilla chip loaded with queso at his boss. “It’s going to be a girl, no doubt about it.”

  Olivia, Dain’s wife, paused with her forkful of enchiladas raised halfway to her mouth. “‘No doubt,’ huh?”

  Saint spoke with his mouth full. “That cute little beach ball has to be a girl. Any boy that takes after your husband would be a ten-pounder, minimum.”

  “Might want to be careful there, Saint.” Dain set his plate on the table in front of the seat next to his wife, then turned back to the kitchen to grab a drink. “Referring to my wife’s stomach as a beach ball, however cute, could get you benched when she castrates you.”

  “But—”

  King slapped a hand on Saint’s shoulder, drawing his attention. “Quit while you’re ahead,” he muttered out of the side of his mouth. Next to him, Charlotte giggled. Her first get-together with his entire team and their respective families had been a success from minute one, but the discussion surrounding their bets on the sex of Dain and Olivia’s baby seemed to be especially amusing.

  “Yeah, Saint,” Olivia added with a wicked gleam in her eye and a sharp knife raised in the air, “quit while you’re ahead.”

  Dain returned, stopping to kiss his wife before taking his seat. “That’s my Livie.”

  Deacon turned from wiping his daughter’s queso-smeared mouth and pinned Dain with a look. “As the only one around this table with experience at this, I’m going with Saint—it’s a girl.”

  Dain groaned at Elliot’s fiancé. “God would not be that cruel.” His sideways glance at Olivia, both hopeful and resigned, was met with a serene Madonna smile. In other words, she wasn’t tellin’.

  Elliot laughed in Dain’s direction. “Yes, she would.”

  “I have to admit,” Charlotte broke in, “when King told me you were keeping the sex of the baby a secret, and that his teammates had been placing bets on both the sex and when the baby would arrive, I had one thought: Olivia is diabolical. Good for you.” She grinned when Olivia hooted in response.

  “We might be a small contingent of this team family so far,” Olivia said, “but we’re growing and we’re mighty. You do realize, husband, that if this baby is a girl, the scales will be tipped in favor of the women, five to four.”

  Dain grinned. Without warning he reached for Livie, pulling her out of her seat and onto his lap, then leaning down to plant a long kiss on her smiling lips. When he lifted his head, she looked dazed. “I’ll be happy either way the scales tip.”

  “I think we have enough smartas— Uh…” Saint eyed Sydney, seated between Deacon and Elliot, watching him with wide, curious eyes. “Too-smart women…” he finished, “to deal with around here.” He wi
nked at Syd. “Including you.”

  “Nice save,” King whispered to his friend. “But I think you’re just jealous because you can’t get one to stick.”

  Saint punched him in the bicep hard.

  “Daddy,” Sydney asked loudly, “when are we having a baby?”

  Elliot spit out the swallow of sweet tea she’d just taken, going pale. The entire table burst into laughter. Sydney frowned, and King could tell from the look in her eyes that she was trying to work out what she’d said that was so funny. When she glanced up at her dad, Deacon gave her a gentle smile while patting Elliot on the back. “We’ll talk about that later, okay, little bit?”

  Sydney nodded, Elliot excused herself to grab towels for cleanup, and the rest of them moved to another topic in amused sympathy.

  Livie had started these monthly dinners after their team had first been assigned to each other. A way to bring them together. It had been the four of them and Olivia for two years, but now the Brannans’ dinner table overflowed with visitors. Saint was the only one of them without a significant other since King and Charlotte had reunited a couple of weeks ago, but though King watched carefully, he didn’t see any resentment from his friend. The man was the same carefree, happy bachelor he’d been for as long as King had known him. As long as he was happy, King was fine, but he didn’t want Saint to decide he was on the outside looking in.

  So far, so good.

  After brownie sundae desserts and cleanup, King grabbed his and Charlotte’s coats. Tonight was Charlotte’s first overnight at his apartment, and he had a slight detour planned before they could get there. “Livie, you won’t be having that little one before we do this again, will you?”