“It’s okay,” he assures me, lifting me onto his lap, and rocking me back and forth. “It was only a dream.” His words become muffled as he kisses the top of my head.
It’s only then, as I adjust to my surroundings and come back to reality, I hear my sobs. Controlling my breathing, I tilt my head to look at him.
It’s far from the first time I’ve dreamt of Nick. It’s also not the first time he’s been my nightmare.
My throat burns and my fingers are cramping like I had them balled in a fist for too long. “I’m so sorry.”
He pulls my head back on his chest and lays down, his arms keeping my body molded to his side. “Don’t do that. Don’t be sorry. Try to get some sleep.”
I never sleep after my nightmares. I always get up, no matter the time. But tonight, I do.
When I wake, it’s morning and I’m exactly where I was when I fell asleep—safe and wrapped tightly in his arms, like he’s trying to make the rest of the world disappear.
Gently, I creep away from him and tiptoe out of bed.
He’ll be awake soon, so I make a cup of coffee and sit on my picnic bench in my back garden.
If he decides he wants to sneak out and leave, I will understand, but I can’t watch him do it.
I should’ve told him about the nightmares before he came to bed. I probably scared him half to death.
I stretch and enjoy the feel of the sun on my neck. I always feel so stiff after those dreams, but not today. Alex held me like he could glue back all my shattered pieces.
“There you are.”
He appears in the doorway bare-chested with his jeans hanging low on his narrow hips. Did he rush to get dressed?
Surely, I shouldn’t be this flustered in the morning. But I’ve never had a half-naked man walk around my house, and definitely not one as gorgeous as Alex. He really pulls off the sleepy bed head.
“I thought you did a runner on me.” He strolls to my side and kisses the top of my head. “Are you feeling okay?”
I shift in my seat and stare down at my coffee as he sits on the other side of the bench.
“Embarrassed. You should be the one doing the running.”
He rolls his eyes and his mouth sets into a hard line.
I know. I’ll need to get it through my thick skull, Alex isn’t like me. He doesn’t run.
“I’m right here.”
I was never here.
Nick’s words make bile rise in my throat.
“I should’ve told you about the nightmares. It rarely happens, but apparently, they look worse than what they are,” I lie. He already knows who the dream was about. Garry told me I scream Nick’s name when they get bad. “I guess talking about everything last night triggered something. I’m sorry.”
He blows out a loud breath and runs a frustrated hand over his face. “I don’t care that you have nightmares and stop saying sorry. I care because they hurt you. You were in pain last night. Now, I never want to leave you alone at night, so if it happens again, I can do what I did last night. It probably doesn’t help, but I needed to stop the pain in your eyes.”
A single tear tickles my cheek.
“It helped. I usually don’t go back to sleep. I did last night.”
“Have you ever talked to anyone about them?”
This is not something I want to talk about. “I did, but the dreams always came back. He was in my life for so long.” I shift in my seat, feeling a little awkward.
“Don’t feel like you can’t talk about it around me, Mandy. Everyone has a past, and he is a big part of yours. He was your boyfriend and your best friend.”
He gets it.
He really gets it.
“Yeah,” I breathe, more than surprised. Or maybe it’s relief. I’m not a complete basket case after all.
His shoulders relax and so do mine, and I sit back, trying to hide how emotional I want to be.
He comes to my side, crouching down. “No more talk of me running anywhere. I’m here. I promise. I’m not going anywhere.”
I needed to hear that.
He presses his forehead against mine, lingering there for a long moment.
“Are you up to going for some breakfast?”
My eyes light up and I can’t help but smile. I love how he can take my heavy and make it lighter.
Alex fixes.
I tilt my head and kiss him.
“Pancakes?” I laugh gently against his mouth.
“If it keeps the smile on your face, you can have pancakes every day of the week.”
Then his head dips to my stomach, and before I know it, he’s slinging my arm over his head and standing with me on his shoulder.
I laugh so hard it hurts.
“Alex, please let me down,” I squeal. “What are you doing?”
He strides through the kitchen and towards my bedroom, but I can hardly see anything from tears of laughter streaming down my face. I jerk, playfully fighting him when his palm comes down on my ass.
“Before pancakes, I’m taking you back to bed so we can make out like gross teenagers.”
He’s distracting me, and it’s exactly what I need.
He wants to protect me from my demons. But it breaks my heart because I realize, my demons are in my past and with the only other man I’ve ever loved.
Chapter Thirteen
“Bandit,” I shout, rushing from my room and seeing him molesting my new sofa cushion. I grab it and put it back. “I thought you got fixed.”
I swear, this dog would hump anything in sight.
No shame.
I rub my hand through his fur and his tail wags with excitement.
“Want some breakfast?” His tongue hangs out of his mouth and he jumps up, his paws almost reaching my shoulders. I don’t know where Alex is going to put him when he’s fully grown. He’s like a bear.
Alex has been away on a business trip for four days and I felt each minute he was gone. Though Bandit didn’t give me much time to dwell on it. If I don’t walk him twice a day, he finds ways to tire himself out by tearing the rubbish apart, finding socks to chew on, or by humping absolutely everything. Including my neighbours’ dog.
That was a disaster. I almost broke my back trying to pull a seventy-pound fur-ball off a dalmatian, while explaining to their owner, Bandit was neutered so there was no chance of puppies. My neighbour laughed and went on to explain, his dalmatian was also male, so there were definitely no puppies.
But I needed company when Alex wasn’t here.
He kept his word. There’s rarely a night we don’t spend together. I haven’t had a nightmare in weeks, but I think it’s mostly to do with knowing I share a bed with a man whose shoulders fill a doorway. Even the slightest disturbance and all I do is reach out and he’s there. The bed felt empty and too big without him.
I can’t believe how much has changed in such a short time. I always enjoyed having the bed to myself, but not anymore. For four nights, I distracted myself around the house until it exhausted me enough to not notice he wasn’t there. Maybe the novelty of him will wear off, and I’ll soon be kicking him out for snoring. But somehow, I doubt I’ll ever want him to leave.
I can gradually feel myself opening up—mind, heart, and body.
When we first met, I wanted to take things slowly. I wanted to be confident of how I felt. But I knew sooner than I thought I would, and with him, I stayed away from the darkness.
I give Bandit his food and as I tidy away the plates from the dishwasher, the distinctive sound of his car pulls into my driveway. I can’t help the smile and rush of blood to my cheeks. He’s early. Why am I not surprised?
I open the front door as he pulls a brown bag of groceries from the back seat, shutting the car door with his foot. I devour the sight of him, my eyes roaming up his navy slacks, the sleeves of his white button-down rolled up to the elbows with the top button opened at his neck. But it’s his face that makes my heart thump harder. His full lips relax as those piercing blue eyes find mine.
How does someone look this good so early in the morning?
“Hey, you.” I lean against the door frame as he walks towards me.
“Good morning, gorgeous. You’re a sight for sore eyes.” He winks.
That I have undressed him with my eyes, has not fazed him in the slightest.
Bandit zooms past me and runs circles around Alex’s feet. That’s the thing with dogs—they have no sense of time. He thought Alex up and left him here with me—the woman who doesn’t allow him to hump things.
Alex clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth and pats his thigh. “Come on, boy.” He lifts the paper bag before pulling me towards him with his free hand and presses a hard kiss to my lips. “I’m cooking breakfast.”
I giggle as he slaps my ass on the way back into the house. “Well, good morning to you too.”
God, I missed him.
He places the groceries on the countertop, ridding himself of his tie before unpacking the bag.
“Pancakes,” he informs me.
Because pancakes make me smile.
He likes to keep to his word, and he’s worried about how my nights were when he was gone.
I stand behind him and wrap my arms around his torso. My fingers tingle at the feel of his toned muscle beneath his shirt.
“Good trip?” I ask.
He turns his head over his shoulder and kisses the top of my head. “As good as it could go. Went to meetings. Worked on new designs. Went to dinners. Went to more meetings.”
I roll my eyes and press my lips against his shoulders. “All work and no play makes Alex a dull boy.”
He merely glances at me and smirks.
I peel myself away from him and stand at his side. “Do you always dress like this to cook breakfast for a woman?”
It’s the second time I’ve seen him in a suit and the effect is no less than before. He commands attention without speaking a word, filling a space with his presence.
“Not just any woman,” he corrects.
I chew my lip between my teeth, curious.
“Spit it out, baby. And stop biting your lip.”
How does he do that: know what I’m thinking and doing without even looking at me?
I shift on my feet. “Have you cooked breakfast in many women’s kitchens?” I’ve never asked him about his previous relationships. I’ve been too distracted by him to think of it.
From the corner of his eye, he looks at me, an amused smirk pulling at his mouth. “Are you asking how many women I’ve slept with, Mandy?”
My face is hot. “Not really. Not sure I want to know the answer.” I laugh nervously. “But you know about my extensive dating history. Or lack of. What about you? Any hidden wives I should know about?”
He barks a laugh and rolls his eyes. “No wife. No ex-wife, either. I’ve had girlfriends. If that’s what you’re asking. One of those got serious enough to think about marriage and kids.”
Oh. That was serious.
“What happened?”
He shrugs and turns to face me, leaning his hip on the counter. “Me and Rachel met when I was still in university. After I started working for the firm, we moved in together. And then life got busy. I began branching out with Hale Construction, and she was starting a career in law. We were busy, and when we finally found the time to be with each other, we realized the same spark wasn’t there. It was mutual, and we remained friends.”
Straight forward. Simple. No complications.
But how friendly was friendly exactly?
A laugh, deep and low, vibrates from his chest. “You’re hot when you’re jealous.”
My mouth falls open, exasperated. “I am not jealous.”
I am. I just don’t have any right to be.
I slap my palm against his arm, but his bicep is too hard, and I hurt myself. I blow at the sting tingling my fingers, but I hardly notice because my lungs are having a hard time finding air when he stands closer. My stomach flips, and I’m surprised I haven’t gotten used to this yet.
“So, why the suit?” I ask, distracting myself.
“I had an early morning meeting.”
“Straight from the flight? On a Saturday?” I raise my brow.
That doesn’t seem fair. Or maybe I’ve become too accustomed to my Monday to Friday teaching schedule.
“Business is business.” He removes a large bowl from the cupboard.
Alex is all things rough and ready, but watching him in such a domestic setting, preparing pancakes in a suit, makes a fire pool at my core. He’s at ease, and completely at home in my home.
He tips flour into the bowl. The powder creates a cloud and speckles his shirt. He cracks in two eggs before continuing.
“I’ve wanted a new architect for a while. It’s becoming too much for just me. And I have better ways to spend my time now.” He kisses the tip of my nose and I press my lips together to stop the grin. “I had to convince the best in the business to leave his firm and come work with me. He’s leaving for a month to finish up on his last project so he could only meet me at six this morning. Hence the suit.”
“Who is it?”
“Ian.”
My eyes widen. “Your friend Ian? Sally’s brother? You wore a suit to convince your best friend to work with you?”
He turns to face me, looking at me like I’m crazy. “Mandy, for five years I’ve been trying to get that asshole to come work for me. He says no every time.”
“And did you win him over this time?”
Of course he did. Alex wins everyone over.
He returns to whisk the batter, pouring extra milk, and his brawny arms make simple work of it. “Yes, I did.”
“What made him change his mind?”
He winks at me. “The suit.”
I nudge him. “Cocky much? I guess money had nothing to do with it.”
He shakes his head and cups his hand under my chin. “You have no faith in me. How could he say no to working with this face every day? And money may have had a tiny part to play.”
I thought so.
I smile up at him. “Let me cook. You’ll destroy the magic suit.”
I catch his glare from the corner of his eye. Alex doesn’t give a shit about the suit. He turns to me, kissing me again before putting his hands under my arms and lifting me onto the corner of the counter.
“Nonsense. I’m cooking you some breakfast. And then,” he turns back to the bag of flour, “You and I, are going to watch movies all day.” He runs two fingers down either side of my cheeks. I take a moment to realize what he’s doing.
“Alex,” I squeal, laughter vibrating through my chest as the flour falls from my face.
“And after movies, it looks like you are going to war, soldier.” He chuckles, standing between my legs, gripping my hips, and pulling me closer.
My laughter trails off as his hands find the bare skin of my back, and his fingers slide below the waistband of my jeans. His bright eyes become suddenly dark, and my lungs scream for more air because he pulled what was left in the room. I lick my lips, wishing I could taste him instead, and every inch of my skin tingles when his look roams from my eyes to my lips. I straighten, wrapping my legs tightly around his back, my core pressing hard against him. I swallow dryly, boldness washing over me when his hands leave my back and explore every curve. He dips his chin, his eyes meeting mine again as his thumb brushes across my lower lip.
“Kiss me,” I breathe, not caring if it sounds like I’m begging, and neither does he.
He grabs the back of my neck, pulling me into him. When his tongue meets mine, we move together, surrounded by searing heat. My moans greet the groan in his chest, and my fingers grip onto his shoulders for support, digging my nails into the material of his shirt. It doesn’t matter if I’m already sitting. Every muscle in my body has become liquid, going lax against him, and it feels like I could become one with the counter below me. I fist at his shirt, pulling it free from inside his trousers, and my fingers dance alo
ng the hardness of his torso, my body screaming for more of him.
As my nails scratch at his chest, his kiss devours me completely, like we’re starved of each other’s taste, and needing everything the other will give. I don’t know how much that is yet, but I know I don’t want this to stop.
And as if karma herself has heard my thoughts, the buzz of his phone ringing sounds from behind him. I pull away, leaning my forehead against his, breathless, and silently cursing whoever interrupted us.
I close my eyes, disappointment lodging low in my stomach because I wanted to see where that look got me.
He takes a glimpse at it, and I can’t help but notice how his eyes light up.
“I’m sorry. I have to take this.”
I tap my palm against his chest, shaking my head and smiling.
He taps the screen and holds the phone up. Video call.
“Hey, pretty girl.”
I hear a small huff and then, “Mama won’t let me wear her lipstick to summer camp.”
This must be his niece. I know he’s close to her.
Alex looks to me for the answer, like this is a conversation he hadn’t prepared for this morning, and I can’t help but laugh at his helpless expression.
“Ava, it’s eight in the morning. Listen to your mama. Where is she?” he asks.
“I don’t know. She told me to call you.”
Alex tilts his head. “Did she now?”
From where I’m standing, I get a brief look at Ava’s small face. Her hair is tied back, and she’s holding lipstick between her fingers.
I purse my lips because I could burst into laughter at any second.
“No lipstick. You’re six. You can wear it when you’re thirty.”
Six?
My chest tightens and I let my mind wander to another little girl. Maybe she would have liked to wear my lipstick.
Casting my eyes back to the screen, I ignore the burn in my throat.
“Uncle Alex, where are you?”
Six-year-olds and their questions.
“I’m at a friend’s house, Ava.”
“Is it Mandy?”
I’m smiling so big my cheeks are aching.
Losing Love (What Will Be Book Series) Page 10
