Forgiven: The Nash Brothers, Book Two

by Aarons, Carrie

  I’m shaking so hard that Bowen has to physically hold me to him to keep me from collapsing to the floor.

  “You took your seatbelt off to … like some kind of harlot. You almost got yourself killed trying to hook up with your cocky, idiotic athlete boyfriend. How would that have looked to the press? The constituents. That the daughter of a senator couldn’t keep it in her pants long enough to not be ejected from the passenger seat.”

  The devil stands before me, red-faced and spiraling, spewing out hate and venom.

  “Get out of my house.” My voice is deadly calm, and I stand hand in hand with Bowen.

  My protector doesn’t curl his body around me though, no … he lets me stand strong and independent.

  “Lily, he’s trash. A barber, nowhere near what you deserve or the kind of man—”

  “You have no idea what kind of man he is. And I don’t need to prove to you how worthy he is of me. If anything, I’m not worthy of him. He has spent years ripping out his own heart over and over and over again because of something you did. Because he wanted the best for me even if that meant it couldn’t be him. I said get out of my house. So go. Now.”

  My father backs away slowly, his eyes boring holes into the both of us.

  “Wait,” Bowen demands. “Leave her key.”

  He throws it, basically spits it back at us. “Keep it. I don’t need to associate with trash. Even if she is my own daughter.”

  That was meant as an insult, but surprisingly, I feel nothing. His words hold no weight anymore, and thus, they can’t hurt me.

  As soon as we hear the front door click closed, Bowen moves swiftly to lock it.

  And then he’s right back at my side, wrapping me in his arms. “Are you okay?”

  My eyes look up into his. “Yes … yes, I think I am. A little shaken, but … he admitted to it. That’s what I wanted. Now we can … we can move on from this.”

  “Let’s go back to my place. Our place. Move in with me, tonight.”

  He doesn’t have to ask me twice. “How fast can we pack?”

  40

  Lily

  I wake to Bowen’s hands trailing down my body.

  “What’re you doing?” I yawn on the tail end of a smile.

  “It’s Thanksgiving. I’m trying to show you what I’m most thankful for,” he says as his fingers push past the elastic band of my underwear.

  “Mmm.” I get temporarily distracted as they brush the bundle of nerves above my opening. “We have to get up. I promised your Mom I would help her get the turkey in.”

  Bowen nibbles my earlobe between his teeth. “Sh, I’m working here.”

  He presses the blunt tip of his finger into my core, circling in a delicious motion that has me squirming. A moan escapes my lips, and I reach behind me, my hands caressing his muscled thighs. They drag up to his waist and contort to reach inside his boxers, where I find him hard and leaking for me.

  I never can resist him.

  “Hmm, yeah, babe.” He gasps into my hair as I circle around him, squeezing tighter as I pull toward his head.

  In just a couple of seconds, we go from lazily teasing to panting, and Bowen flips me over shortly after.

  “I love you.” He grunts as he pushes into me, our naked flesh tangling.

  “I love you,” I answer, reaching up to thread my arms around his neck.

  He makes slow, seductive love to me, quietly in the sanctuary of our shared bedroom. The build-up is agonizing, with each stroke, each gasp, each tense pulse of our bodies. When my orgasm finally washes over me, my mind is numb and my limbs quake with the blissful electricity buzzing through them.

  Bowen covers my lips with his, groaning into my throat as his climax leaves him breathless.

  We lay entwined, silent but for the labored breaths of our post-coital glow, for what feels like an hour.

  “That was the perfect start to Thanksgiving morning. I think we just made a new tradition.” Bowen smiles into my neck, breaking the quiet.

  I plant a kiss on his cheek and push on his chest for him to let me up. “I agree. But right now, we have to get ready.”

  “A drill sergeant, you are. I think we need to talk about how bossy you are.”

  “You like it.” I grin as I walk to the bathroom.

  I hear him shuffling around in the bedroom while I pee, brush my hair, rinse with mouthwash and begin to apply the light amount of makeup I wear each day. He comes in looking like some fall catalog model out of a J. Crew ad. Olive green chunky knit sweater, dark blue jeans, cognac-colored boots, and his hair perfectly, sexily mussed from sex.

  I’d say it isn’t fair to be that good looking, but I get to reap the rewards from it so I’m not complaining.

  “Hi, gorgeous.” I raise a brow.

  Bowen blushes, which is so rare, but I love making him do it. “So you’re going over to help Mom with the turkey while Keaton and I grab the pies from the bakery?”

  I glance down at my hands. “Um, yeah, that was the plan. But I’m wondering if you could drop me somewhere else first.”

  “Sure, where?” His voice is unsuspecting.

  “I wanted to go see my mom.” I look up guiltily.

  When he doesn’t answer, his expression unreadable, I continue. “It’s just … it’s Thanksgiving. I haven’t spoken to her since the truth about what my father did came out. I know it’s probably weak to want to see her, but I spent twenty-seven years with her on this day. I just kind of want to go see her.”

  Bowen crouches down in front of me where I sit at the makeshift vanity I set up. “Lily, that’s not weak. It’s called love, and I think it’s admirable. Of course, I’ll drop you off to see your mom.”

  * * *

  My boots crunch on the leaves littering the sidewalk as I near the street where Eliza bought her townhouse.

  I decided to walk from my parent’s house to Bowen’s mother’s place, to clear my head. And because I didn’t want to sit in a car and dissect the conversation with him just yet.

  It had been strange being back in my mother’s house after the blow that happened there. It was almost a month ago, but it felt like yesterday. Thank God my father hadn’t been there today, something I’d been counting on as I’d checked his schedule and he was out of town. That’s right, out of town on the first Thanksgiving my mother wasn’t going to be spending the holiday with me. The man had no heart.

  Our conversation had been odd and stiff, there was too much hurt between us now. In the past, I’d unconsciously forgiven my mother for turning the other cheek when my father did questionable things, but now it almost added to how badly he’d betrayed me. She claims she knew nothing about what he did after the accident, but I’m not sure I can believe that.

  The mother I knew, the one who supported me and loved me with such an open and big heart … I wasn’t sure she could be trusted anymore.

  And that was a shame. Decades of a relationship built, shattered because of one monumental lie.

  As I push through the screen door, my mind is temporarily distracted from the sadness of my own family. The Nash’s buzz about the first floor, cooking, singing, setting the table, and especially drinking.

  Forrest is passing out beers while Presley pours a red, steaming liquid into a bowl.

  “It’s mulled wine!” she says excitedly to Hattie, her grandmother, and then looks up to see me standing in the room. “Lily! Bowen, Lily is here!”

  My man rounds the corner and smiles a mega-watt smile. “Welcome to chaos!”

  He’s so jubilant, it’s contagious. We meet in the middle of the room, our kiss sweet and happy. Then Bowen takes me by the hand, pulling me into a quieter side hallway.

  “How was your mother?” His tone holds something back, and I know he’s trying to allow me to talk without prying too much.

  I wrap my arms around his waist and bury my head in his T-shirt. Because I can do that now, touch him whenever I want with no reason or backlash at all.

  “She was okay. It
was … not an easy talk, to say the least. I’m still not convinced she didn’t know, although she swears it. Says she hasn’t even spoken to Dad in two weeks, although they’re staying together. That much is clear. She’ll always be the good wife; they’ve been through too much now. To me, this is the worst betrayal, but I … I think she knows where the bodies are buried. They’re a team, which I guess is admirable. It’s just … it’s all so messed up, Bow.”

  He pulls me in tighter, raining kisses down on my cheeks. “I know it is. I feel the same way. My father isn’t here to answer for his wrong-doings, and I know you don’t even want to hear it from yours.”

  “It’s like … I’m furious at him for keeping us apart, for making me lose ten years that I could have had with you. But at the same time … in an adult sense, I can see how our fathers wanted to protect us. It might have been a convoluted way of doing it, but …”

  I trail off and he tips my chin up with two fingers, those blue eyes searching mine. “What, baby?”

  “My mom said something a while back. She said that even though they were our parents, they were still people. They had flaws, made mistakes. Maybe that’s why I’m allowing forgiveness to sit side by side with my fury.”

  Bowen swipes his thumb across my cheek. “How do you always know what I’m thinking?”

  “Because I’m in love with you.”

  He kisses me, and there has never been anything sweeter to taste. The freedom of doing this whenever I feel like it … it’s going to take some getting used to. In fact, I think I’ll need to try it out over and over again.

  “Do you think … do you think you’ll talk to your father?” Bowen pulls his mouth away from mine.

  I sigh, exhausted from the whole thing. If I had a dollar for how many times I didn’t want to think about any of it anymore.

  “Right now, absolutely not. After the stunt he pulled at my townhouse … I’m pretty sure our relationship is irreparable. It will only lead to more anger. My mother was trying to reason with me, to see his side of things, but this close, I can’t rationalize anything he did. I need to make sense of my feelings in the situation, and eventually, maybe. But right now, it’s a hard no.”

  Bowen’s eyes narrow, but he still keeps me in his arms. “And I guess I’ll have to respect that. How are you so much more mature than me?”

  “I think it may have something to do with my anatomy.” I wink.

  “Mmm, you may be right. Care to test the theory … again?”

  When Bowen bends down to kiss me, I dodge him. “I have a turkey to prepare.”

  As he chases me through the hall, into the kitchen where his family is busying themselves with food, I laugh.

  Because I let him catch me. Because I’ve been chased into a place which is right where I want to be.

  41

  Bowen

  “Opening presents on Christmas Eve? We’re going to have to talk about that.”

  I tickle Lily’s side gently as she takes a seat on the rug next to me, with Presley on her other side.

  “Well, it was only me, and in the morning we always went to church. I’m not saying I’m not willing to change traditions. Or create ones of our own.”

  “I like the sound of that.” My hands bury in her hair as I kiss her.

  “Hey, no funny business during the Christmas Eve movie!” Forrest scolds us.

  Mom chuckles where she sits on the couch, next to Fletcher. The dog that Presley and Keaton recently adopted, a golden retriever with a soft spot for his grandma, lies between us. Forrest is in one of the armchairs, and Hattie in the other, with my girlfriend and I next to my brother and his wife on the floor.

  We’re all in matching Christmas pajamas, something that Lily and Presley forced us into. But, if you held my hand to a hot stovetop, I’d have to admit it’s kind of fun.

  “What are we watching tonight?” Lily asks.

  “The same movie we always watch on Christmas Eve. But for you newbies, it’s a surprise,” Fletcher answers.

  Mom gets up to do the honors of setting up the DVD, something she had to learn after Dad passed and she took the duty from him. I push that sadness out of my mind and stand up.

  “Actually, I have one announcement before we start.” I clear my throat, and my family looks at me expectantly. “I wanted to let you all know that, uh, Coach Hankins offered me the head coach position after he retires this June. And … I decided to take it. So, I’m going to be the baseball coach at the high school.”

  Lily nods reassuringly, her beautiful smile beaming just for me.

  We’ve talked about this at length over the last two months. After extending the deadline on the St. Louis job, which Daniel was very patient about, I wanted to include her in the decision-making process. After all, she was going to be the biggest part of my life. Lily insisted she didn’t mind moving, that it might give us a new start. And we both really did consider what life might be like if we left Fawn Hill.

  But in the end, both of us just couldn’t do it. We agreed that this was our home, that our friends and family meant too much. And with an opportunity right in town to coach baseball, why would we even need to leave?

  I’d told Coach Hankins last week I’d be honored to assume his duties as head coach, and he’d taken a bottle of whiskey out of his desk drawer and poured me a mug full to celebrate. It was still six months off, and a whole school year of sports seasons away, but I was damn excited.

  “Oh, Bowen, I’m so happy that’s what you decided.” Mom comes at me with open arms, her small body wrapping me up in a tight bear hug.

  Keaton uncurls from Presley and stands, offering me a clap on the back. “You’ll make a great coach, brother.”

  “Imagine all the shithead teens you’ll have to put up with. I know Coach Hankins almost ran me over with his truck he was so annoyed at me most times.” Forrest cackles, but fist bumps me.

  Fletcher comes over to make the hug Mom is giving me a group hug. “I’m proud of you, bro.”

  He’s probably thinking about how much guidance Hankins gave him in the past. I only hope I can live up to our old coach’s reputation.

  “All right, all right, can we please start the movie?” Forrest whines.

  We all grumble at him, but settle back into our spots, under blankets, cuddling our loved ones. It’s the perfect representation of what I want for my life. What I want for our life, mine and Lily’s. She doesn’t know it yet, but one of those presents under our tree at home, the ones we’ll open on Christmas morning, is a diamond ring.

  I’m going to ask her to marry me tomorrow.

  Mom pops the DVD in the player just under her TV, and the opening title for It’s a Wonderful Life paints the screen.

  And it is. Such a wonderful life.

  Epilogue

  Lily

  Five Years Later

  Sweet, cotton-candy sugared air wafts over the park, the summer wind carrying the scent of the carnival with it.

  I sit on a blanket on the ground, my legs crossed at the ankles as I squint into the sun.

  Our daughter runs to me, her little three-and-a-half-year-old legs chugging fast.

  “Mommy! Aunt Penelope was kissing Uncle—”

  “Hey, you know what I say about snitches!” Bowen interrupts her, scooping her up into an upside down hold.

  She giggles loudly as he blows raspberries onto her belly, and I marvel at the similarities between them. Molly is every ounce of her father; dark hair, almost black, bright blue eyes, a stubborn personality and has absolutely no fear.

  “They get stitches!” Molly tucks her hair behind her ears as he sets her back on her feet.

  “That’s right.” Bowen fist bumps her, and I can’t help but laugh at their ridiculousness.

  “The things you teach this kid.” I roll my eyes.

  “Oh, you love it. And I’m going to teach all the same things to little man here.” Bowen reaches down, rubbing my big baby belly.

  His wedding ring glints as h
e smooths his hand over the place his son currently occupies, and I shift uncomfortably as said boy kicks at my internal organs.

  “Any day now, I feel it.” I huff out a breath.

  If my husband had his way, we’d have six little ones toddling around by now. But I wanted to plan a real wedding after he proposed on Christmas, and it took us almost a year to save up. And once we’d had Molly, I wanted to enjoy motherhood and give her time to be the baby before we added another to the mix. Turns out, being a mom is even better than I thought it would be.

  I’ve cut back at the library and only work part-time now. Eliza watches Molly the two days I’m at work, and we explore Fawn Hill on the other three days. We even do mommy and me yoga with Presley and her one-year-old son, Maxwell, on Thursdays.

  Bowen is busier than ever at the shop, and in his fourth year as the head baseball coach at the high school. Between his customers and the pressure of adding to the two championships he won back-to-back in the last two seasons, he’s a constant ball of energy. There is something I never thought I’d say about Bowen. But with his schedule, he was forced, and coerced by me, to give up firefighting. I couldn’t stand it when he went out on the few calls he got after we were married. I had flashbacks of the night I fell asleep on his porch, and I don’t think I could suffer through that kind of anxiety forever.

  Watching him as a father … it’s been magical. Molly has him wrapped around her little finger, and when I walk in to her putting butterfly clips in his hair, I know it’s real love. Bowen won’t let anyone touch his hair … except for our girl.

  “The monster has come for you!” Fletcher runs at Molly, scooping her up biting her little legs as he spins her upside down.

  She giggles wildly. “Monsta! Monsta!”

  Bowen and I laugh because she also has her uncles wrapped around her finger. Fletcher and Forrest have really melted, becoming fun uncles who will let her ride them around like petting zoo animals. Forrest Nash, ladies and gentlemen, lets my daughter use him as a zoo animal. He’s really changed since falling for the woman who tamed him.