Don't Leave Me (My Secret Boyfriend Book 3)

by S Doyle

  She tried to turn her head, to see my face, but I had her pinned up against me.

  “Marc, you came looking for her after all these years. Don’t tell me it wasn’t out of love.”

  “It wasn’t. I wanted to put a period on that part of my life. I thought you might be right, and maybe it would give me some closure, but I stopped loving my mother the moment she said she didn’t care.”

  “I don’t believe you,” Ash said quietly. “She’s the reason you can’t love me.”

  This was hard. How did I convince someone of the truth, when I’d been lying to her and myself for so long?

  “No, Ash. I told you back then I would never say those words to you, not because of my mother, but because of you.”

  Again, I could feel her jerk in my arms and so I squeezed her harder.

  “That doesn’t make any sense.”

  “I couldn’t risk it. If I never told you I loved you, then you could never say you didn’t care.”

  I pressed my forehead against the back of her neck and summoned a courage I wasn’t sure I had. Strangely, it wasn’t as hard as I’d thought. Because Ash was right, and I was fighting for something bigger than just us. I was fighting for our family.

  “I was alone in the world. So fucking alone the day I showed up at the estate. My mother didn’t love me, and I didn’t love my mother. I had no father. I didn’t know George. I…I thought about ending it then. And you sat down next to me and you gave me that fucking grape soda and suddenly I wasn’t alone. You wouldn’t let me be. From that day forward, you were always there. AWAYS FUCKING THERE! And I loved you so much and needed you so much, I hated the fuck out of you for making me feel that way. For giving me something I could lose all over again.”

  I heard her sob, felt her breathing start to tighten up.

  “Easy in, easy out,” I whispered, even as I tried to swallow over the lump in my throat. “I love you. I have always loved you. My greatest fear in life has been, and always will be, you saying you don’t care. You died and it broke me, but at least I knew you died loving me. I had that. I could hold onto it. If you ever stopped loving me…it would end me.”

  “Let me go. You’re squeezing me too hard.”

  Instantly, I let my arms drop, afraid of hurting her, trying not to focus on the words themselves because I didn’t want to let her go. But then she was turning and crawling onto my lap, only this time facing me.

  She put her hands on my cheeks and made me look at her. Made me see what was in her eyes, made me show her what was in mine.

  Our truth.

  “I hated you for making me love you because I was so afraid I was going to lose you. I know that’s fucked up. I do. I’m sorry, Ash. So sorry for everything I did to you because of that.”

  She smiled through her tears. “I’m never going to stop loving you. I promised you, and I meant it. Even when I had to leave, I never stopped.”

  “I’m going to hold you to that promise. Every day.”

  “Say it again,” she whispered.

  “I love you. With everything that I am. Please let me stay part of this family.”

  She shrugged. “Okay.”

  I blinked. I’d just put myself through what felt like an emotional atomic bomb, and her answer to that was okay?

  She wiggled off me and moved around the room. She found the T-shirt I’d discarded, picked it up and plopped it over her head. “I like to sleep on the right side of the bed, and I like to sleep in a T-shirt.”

  I knew this from our one week together in Florida. Not just any T-shirt either, but one of mine.

  She got under the covers, then patted the bed next to her. Like some shell-shocked victim from a war, I pulled the covers down and crawled in next to her. I preferred to sleep naked. Something she also knew.

  “What happens now?” I asked, feeling raw and wrung out.

  She snuggled up against me, smiled, and patted my cheek. “We sleep, and tomorrow, if I’m not too sore, you make love to me again. Then you pack up your stuff and you move in with me and Danny. And we live. Happily ever after.”

  It sounded too easy. Too simple.

  “You believe me,” I said, stating what I knew to be a fact. I could feel her trust. “I thought it would be harder.”

  She rested her cheek against my chest. “I believe you. Because you believe in us. Now sleep, and have good dreams.”

  I did.

  Eight years ago

  Ashleigh

  “He’s really hot, George. Maybe we should take him to the hospital.”

  I looked at Marc, who was lying on his bed flushed from fever. He kept switching between pulling the covers over him when he was shivering, and pushing them off when he got too hot. With a wracking cough that wouldn’t let him get any real sleep.

  George pushed the thermometer into his ear and gave it a moment before it beeped. He frowned. “A hundred and two. Let’s give him an hour and see how the aspirin works. Then I’ll decide. I’m going to go make up some chicken broth and see if we can get it in him.”

  George walked out of the room. I looked at Marc again and didn’t see how that was going to work at all. At best, I was struggling to get him to take sips of water. Which, I thought in George’s absence, I might try again. Rest, aspirin and fluids. That’s what the doctor had said.

  I sat on the side of his bed, trying not to jostle him. But as soon as I sat, he reached out to grab me around the waist.

  “Ash?” His voice was hoarse from all the coughing.

  “It’s me. You’ve got the flu. It’s bad, but George and I are taking care of you. I need you to take a few sips of water.”

  I held up the cup and maybe he took a small sip on the straw I pressed against his lips, but it was hard to tell. He pulled me in closer to him, which was strange.

  “Don’t leave, Ash.”

  “I’m not going anywhere. But if your fever doesn’t break, George is going to take you to the hospital.”

  “No, no hospital. Just stay with me. You’ll stay?”

  The urgency of his tone was sharp. Marc never talked to me that way unless I’d annoyed him.

  “I’ll stay,” I assured him. “I’m not going anywhere, I promise. You have to drink some water because you’re sweating a lot. Not going to lie, either, it’s a little gross. You’re so out of it right now, you probably won’t remember I said that.”

  He was out of it. His eyes were glassy and out of focus, and, even though he was looking at me, it was doubtful he could hear me.

  I held the cup with the straw to his mouth again, but he turned his head away, coughing even harder.

  “You have to drink, Marc.”

  “Just stay. Don’t leave,” he insisted.

  I looked over my shoulder in anticipation of George coming into the room at any moment. As the moments ticked by, Marc settled a little when I put a cool hand to his brow. I bent down close to his ear and said it so fast I could deny it if I had to.

  “I’m never going to leave you. I love you.”

  There. The words, the real words I’d felt for so long, that probably nobody would believe because I was only fourteen, were finally out in the universe.

  “Ash, don’t leave. Never leave. Love you.”

  My eyes got wide as I heard him say the words, even though I knew he was out of it. What did that mean? When you had a crazy fever, did the thoughts in your head change? Or did you not have any control over them?

  George came in a few minutes later with soup that Marc wouldn’t eat. But at least the medicine kicked in, and his fever started to go down. He fell asleep and George tried to get me to go home, but I was stubborn.

  Marc told me not to leave, so I wasn’t going to leave.

  Had he been parroting the words I said to him? Or had he meant them? Despite his words, I’d always known he needed me in fundamental ways. It could be true, I thought. I decided to hold those words inside me, locked tight, where, no matter what he said to me tomorrow, they’d be safe. I could
take them out and examine them any time I wanted to. This was my secret.

  Finally, I got so tired, I fell asleep at the bottom of his bed.

  The next morning

  Ashleigh

  “What the hell, Ash?”

  It was all the warning I got before I felt a foot being planted in the middle of my back, pushing me the inches required to remove me from the bed. The bed was low to the ground, so it wasn’t much of a drop. Just enough to sting my hip and bring me fully awake.

  I scrambled up and looked at a scowling Marc. His eyes were clear. His cheeks weren’t flushed. The fever had fully broken.

  “What are you doing sleeping on my bed? Not cool. Does your father know you’re here? That alone could get you in trouble.”

  I smiled because his scowl only got meaner.

  “You shouldn’t be in my room at all. Are you stupid? I’ve got the flu and you’ve got asthma. If you get sick, it could be dangerous. Get the fuck out of here right now.”

  That made me smile even more. I thought about telling him. That last night he’d begged and pleaded with me to stay, but he would just say he was out of it and it didn’t mean anything. Part of me knew that, but I didn’t want him to say it so soon.

  The door opened, and I turned and beamed at George. “His fever broke and he’s back to being a jerk.”

  “I’m not a jerk. You’re an idiot for hanging around someone with the flu. I can’t believe you let her stay here,” Marc accused George.

  “Relax, she’s had her flu shot,” George said, as he tested Marc’s forehead with his palm. “Fever broke. Good. Now it’s just a nasty cough. I’m going to go make you some eggs.”

  “I hate eggs,” Marc bitched.

  “Tough. You’ll eat them. Go home, Peanut, and try to get some sleep. He’s fine now, you don’t need to hover.”

  “You didn’t need her hovering anyway,” Marc grumbled, but it was as if the energy he’d woken up with was suddenly sapped. He coughed and fell back on the bed.

  I followed George out of the room and decided I would let him feed Marc the eggs. I was tired, so I would go home and try to get some sleep.

  He’d said the words. I’d heard them. Loud and clear. Stay. Don’t leave. Love you.

  Then he pushed me out of his bed this morning.

  That sounded about right for us.

  Epilogue

  Marc

  “You’re sure you’re okay with him? He’s still running a little bit of a fever.” Ash hovered while George tucked Danny onto his lap. Danny was already fussing with the new train book in front of him.

  “Poppoppop,” Danny said, then handed George the book.

  George beamed. He loved being Danny’s Pop. Any time Danny said it, the guy practically welled up with tears.

  Maybe I’d done it too that first time I got Danny to say Dada, but it was just that one time.

  “Ash, come on, he’s going to be fine. He knows what he’s doing.”

  A couple months ago, George sold the cabin in North Carolina and actually bought the house around the corner I’d been renting. He was working as an Uber driver when he felt like it, and filling in for Sandra when she needed a day off.

  My record, having been successfully expunged, was no longer an impediment to getting a private investigator’s license, which I planned to do next month.

  Tonight, however, was date night. I took Ash out every Friday night, always asking her first if she would like to go out with me. Sometimes I came home with chocolates. Sometimes flowers. But I was always mindful I’d cheated her out of years of the courting she’d deserved, and needed to make up for that.

  “Okay, I know you’ll know what to do if his fever spikes, but just call me, okay? We can come home.”

  I tugged on her hand and pulled her out of the bungalow. We got into my truck and I drove us to our favorite restaurant. Once at our normal table, I opened the bottle of wine I’d brought and poured her a glass.

  We put in an order for mussels, which we both loved, and sipped our wine.

  “How was the bakery today? Busy?” Because her reputation in the area was really starting to grow, now that she was actually advertising.

  “Hmm. So busy. I’m going to be baking black forest cakes until they’re coming out of my ass.”

  “That doesn’t sound very appetizing, hon.”

  She rolled her eyes at me. “Very funny.”

  And yes, I’d had her ass. It had taken her a while to come around to it, but, eventually, I showed her how amazing it could be.

  “What about you? Are you nervous about your upcoming test?” she asked me.

  “I’m the guy who finished Princeton in three and a half years, I’m not worried about a private investigator test.”

  Her lips twitched. “Ego much?”

  I laughed. “Good thing I have you to keep it in check. So, Benfield called me today. He’s working on a project and wants me to help investigate some stuff for him down here. At a fancy golf club he’s going to get me a membership to.”

  “Rough gig,” Ash said. “Nothing dangerous though, right?”

  I shook my head. “Just some rich assholes looking for trouble. Nothing we haven’t experienced before.”

  “Uh, you know, based on the success you’ve been having investing my savings, it sort of makes us rich assholes now.”

  “Doesn’t count. Not when we’ve agreed to give it all to the kids.”

  Kids plural. Because she wanted more, and I wanted more. In fact, we were already talking about her going off the pill, even though she’d only recently started taking it so we could forgo condoms. She knew I liked coming inside her without anything between us, and so she’d made that happen.

  Because that was how Ash rolled, and, every day, I had to work hard to prove I was worthy of all that love and generosity.

  “You look beautiful tonight,” I said, out of the blue. Because she did, and, most of the time, I was still a grumpy ass, but sometimes, with her, I could push through that and say the thing I wanted to say at the time.

  “You know I love it when you’re sweet to me, but I also get a little nervous.”

  “You should be nervous because I want something from you tonight.”

  “Uh-oh. Are we talking a kinky sex night? Because I could be down with that.”

  “No, that’s not where I was going, but let’s put a pin in that for later. I want something bigger than that. A few things, actually.”

  She shifted in her chair, and, for a second, I could tell I had made her nervous. Which shouldn’t have been surprising. These past few months had been easy and uncomplicated between us. We’d blended together easily, and become a family as if we’d always been one. Which, in some ways, I realized we had been.

  Plus, we were mother and father to Danny, and it felt like he couldn’t remember there was ever a time when I hadn’t been there for him.

  So in some ways, we were both waiting for the other shoe to drop. For the thing to come that was going to rip us apart. Drive us away from each other. Break both our fucking hearts.

  Ash and I didn’t do easy and uncomplicated. Until now.

  “I want my name on Danny’s birth certificate. I want it to be legal, I’m his father.”

  “Okay. You’ve never said…but yes, we can do that for sure.”

  I pushed out of my seat and walked over to her side of the table. I got down on one knee and pulled out the box I’d tucked into my jacket before leaving the house. I’d already asked George’s permission. He’d readily given it to me.

  “And I want you to say yes. To being my wife. To giving me you, every day, for the rest of your life and mine.”

  She gasped, then immediately pushed her left hand in my face. “Yes. Yes, I’ll be your wife. Again.”

  “No more secrets for us, Ash,” I said, as I slid the ring on her finger. “We’re out in the open now. We’ll be Mr. and Mrs. Campbell.”

  She stood, and I stood, too. I heard the people in the restauran
t clapping around us, but I didn’t pay them any attention. I pulled her up against me and she whispered, “The Campbell family.”

  The Campbell family, I thought, as I bent to kiss her.

  It had a nice ring to it.

  Afterword

  Readers!

  Thank you for coming along on this journey with me. I know you might have thought Marc was a jerk at first, but I couldn’t help it. I just loved his grumpy self. And of course Ash did too. It was her unshakeable faith in him that really stuck with me as I was writing this story. She wasn’t a door mat. She just knew how he really felt and held on to that.

  If you want more stories like this turn the page and read an excerpt from my two part Boss Series. Mostly My Boss.

  Excerpt Mostly My Boss

  Now

  Therapy

  Julia

  The office smelled like lavender. A diffuser no doubt. Something that might put the occupants at ease without their even realizing that was happening. I was not fooled. He wasn’t here yet. Typical. So I took a seat as the older woman—late fifties, early sixties maybe, perfectly dressed complete with hair and makeup—sat in a comfortable chair across from mine. I knew her name was Carol.

  I appreciated the clean esthetic of the office. A desk and a computer behind her. Three comfortable but sturdy leather chairs situated in the center of the room. A bookshelf filled with books but no knickknacks to make the room feel cluttered.

  “Can I get you coffee? Tea? Water?” the woman asked as she directed her gaze to a small area designated for that purpose: a mini fridge, a counter with a coffeepot and kettle.

  I was about to decline when she started rattling off her tea menu.