by Raine Miller
As I stepped into the hallway I saw her again—leaving another office, a different therapist than Dr. Wilson, but obviously someone who did similar work with their patients. It made sense actually. There’s your homework. Seek forgiveness from those I believe I have harmed. My first step toward accountability in dealing with my problems would lead me to the same place as her. “Sarah, wait,” I called out.
LEAVING Dr. Burnsley’s office, I headed for the elevators. Still nothing from Ethan, and I could only imagine how bummed he would be that he’d missed my check-up. I would have to tease him—reminding him of all the geeky bonding time with Dr. B and the lame sex jokes he’d squandered.
I didn’t pay attention to the person who got in the elevator with me because I was busy checking my unanswered texts and messaging Len to let him know I was finished with the doctor. Not until he said my name. “Brynne.”
I knew who it was, though. I looked up slowly, starting from the floor. I saw his legs, both the prosthetic, and the real one, his muscled thighs, the cut body and wide shoulders, the very dark eyes, the handsome face that now looked so very different to me.
“Lance. W-what are you doing here?” My voice cracked.
“Don’t be upset, please, but I saw you go in to your appointment, so I waited for you to come out.”
“Are you—are you following me around London?”
“No.” His eyes flickered for an instant but then he shook his head. “I was with my own doctor—getting measured for a permanent prosthetic.”
“Oh.” I didn’t know what to say to him. Lance had lost his leg, and despite our painful history, I still felt sympathy about what had happened. It was as if my brain just couldn’t turn the “empathetic” part off completely. It was still plugged in, grinding away, churning up emotions and memories from long ago. Lance Oakley just followed me into my elevator and told me how he’s been waiting for me to come out. My appointment had lasted an hour and a half with all the waiting in the lobby, and then more waiting in the examination room. Why would he hang around for an hour and a half? I gave a mental fuck it and asked, “So why did you wait for me, Lance?”
“I told you before, at the hospital, but you didn’t come back.” He looked down at the floor and then back up at me. “I know it’s way too much for me to ask, but, Brynne, I really need to talk to you. The question is, will you talk to me?”
“I heard what you whispered to me in your hospital bed, but I don’t know if I can.” And I truly didn’t know. Part of me was curious as to why he wanted to tell me he was sorry for what he’d done. Honestly, I was completely thrown for a loop by the whole thing. Lance coming to apologize was never on the menu of possibilities in my mind. Never ever. So when he appeared before me, as he was in the elevator, looking very sincere, I was really struggling with seeing him again. I instinctively put my hand over my belly.
The elevator door dinged and opened. I stepped out and he followed me into the lobby, his limped gait very pronounced from his injury, making me feel awkward and completely confused about what to do.
“I understand.” He nodded sadly. “I—I know you’re pregnant…and I don’t want to upset you or anything, but—” He stopped talking and lifted a hand in defeat.
“But what, Lance?” I wasn’t going to let him off the hook so easily. He approached me, so I figured he should explain.
“You don’t owe me anything, Brynne. I don’t want to hurt you or disrupt your life, but it really bothers me that you don’t know the truth about me—about what happened that night.”
“Umm…well, I know what happened to me, Lance. I saw it on video.” I looked away, unable to face him when I said the last word.
“I know,” he said softly. “I am so sorry for hurting you, and I’d like the chance to explain myself.” He blew out a deep breath. “I do know a little about what you’ve been through. Your mother told me some of it when I tried to contact you, but your dad wouldn’t let me see you at all, and then you went away to New Mexico. I accepted that you probably couldn’t see me, so I stayed away from you on purpose. I was in Iraq, anyway,” he said bitterly. After a moment of silence he continued, “I—I heard about your dad’s passing. I remember how close you were to him. I’m very sorry for your loss.”
My goddamn tears will be the death of me. I swiped at my eyes and tried to pull it together so I could make it out of this building and not look like I’d been crying if Ethan showed up. Or Len.
In fact, Len was walking right toward me now, with the look on his face that meant my meeting with Lance was at an end.
Lance saw him too.
“I—I’m sorry, I have to go now. Lance, good luck,” I said lamely. I had nothing else to give him. I felt empty and confused. I wanted Ethan.
“All right.” He looked at me stoically, and nodded one time. Then he pressed a card into my hand. “Please think about it,” he whispered, before turning and walking away, his uneven step a tangible sign of just how much Lance Oakley had changed in the last seven years.
I told Len to drop me in Knightsbridge so I could do my shopping. There was no way I could go home at that point. I needed to clear my head and process my feelings. One thing was certain—I didn’t want to share with Ethan about my meeting with Lance. It would only upset him and make him territorial, and that wouldn’t do him, or me, any good. I should call Dr. Roswell though and get an earlier appointment. I needed impartial advice, and Ethan would be anything but impartial. I still didn’t know where he was or why he’d missed my check-up today, I thought glumly, feeling sorry for myself.
I went through the motions of selecting gifts for people, determinedly focusing on one simple task so I complete it. A silk robe for my mother in traitorous yellow seemed appropriate. It was really quite beautiful and she would probably love it. If I had them ship directly from the store, it might even make its way to her in time for Christmas. I didn’t know how I felt about my mom right now, especially after Lance’s confession that he’d spoken to her about me years ago. I wondered how that conversation had gone. Did she know something I didn’t know? The niggling of doubt scratched at me like a persistent itch. His card was in my purse. His number was there. I could call him and ask, and he would probably tell me.
We’d only spoken one time since our blowout conversation. I wondered how disappointed she was that my former boyfriend’s father was now the Vice President, and could realistically be the President one day. Must be a bitter pill for her. If I’d sucked up what Lance did to me all those years ago, I guess she’d hoped we might reconcile in time. I believed it was the reason she resented Ethan so much. She knew her plans were blown and there wouldn’t be any fancy White House parties for her to attend. I’d been snatched away by a Brit who didn’t give a maiden queen’s first fuck—direct from his mouth—if Lance Oakley’s father was emperor of the motherfucking world, let alone a US political figure. Ethan had impregnated me, and married me; even my mother could see that her fantasy was nothing but dust in the wind. Those two were like gasoline and matches ready to combust when they were forced together anyway. So sad for me. She would be my child’s grandmother and couldn’t stand the sight of my husband.
My phone chirped. Finally, I thought as I dug it out of my purse. Unknown number? Baby I’m so sorry missed ur appt. Long story. w/o my mobile atm. This is Sarah Hasting’s mobile I’m using. Where r u now? xoE
Sarah Hasting’s? I knew exactly who she was. And thought it very strange that Ethan was with her when he should have been with me. I remembered how upsetting her presence had been for him at the wedding, thus my concern about her trying to dig her claws into him to soothe her grief. I respected the military loyalty, but it wasn’t fair for Ethan to suffer more because of her loss. If she was guilting him into talking about her husband I would have to set the woman straight. I felt myself bristle as I replied to his text, but remembered that it wasn’t Ethan’s phone that would receive my message, so I kept it neutral. But I made sure to add Sarah’s number int
o my contacts, before I answered him. It’s fine. I’m at Harrod’s xmas shopping. Len is here w/ me. –B
He answered me right away. On my way to find you now. Meet at Sea Grill? E
Well, if you say so, Mr. Blackstone, I thought, as I replied with an abrupt: ok. I tried to temper my irritation but something just felt off to me, and once again, my insecurities rushed to the surface to fill me with doubt.
I paid for my purchases and handed the loot over to Len who would get it all home for me. Then I arranged for gift wrap and delivery of my mother and Frank’s gifts with the concierge, and headed down to the Sea Grill to wait for Ethan.
I sipped my cranberry tea in the restaurant and ruminated about my weird day. Remembering the card Lance had pressed upon me; I pulled it out and studied it. Cell phone and email on the front, along with his name and US Army contact info. I turned it over and saw a handwritten message I hadn’t noticed before. Please let me make it right, Brynne.
I looked up and saw Ethan had arrived and was making his way over to my table, a large bouquet of lavender flowers in his hand. Shoving Lance’s card away quickly, I wondered just how guilty my husband was feeling, deciding he needed to bring flowers as a peace offering.
I should appreciate his gesture, I scolded myself.
Except I didn’t.
“SO what happened to you?” she asked, her eyes giving nothing away as to the nature of her true feelings. The flowers were accepted and sniffed appreciatively, but we were in public and Brynne was reserved. Maybe she really felt like bashing the whole lot over my head. You fucked up. All I could do was hope she’d forgive me for my massive cock-up.
“I left the flat this morning sans my mobile. Sorry ’bout that.”
“That is not like you, Ethan.” She didn’t look up from her menu when she spoke. Yeah…you’re in the shithouse.
“No, it isn’t. I’m afraid I was distracted when I left.”
“And why was that?” She turned her menu over, studying it as if it were a rare book in the British Library Collection.
I desperately wished I’d had a chance for a smoke before racing over here. “Well, I didn’t tell you because I wasn’t sure I would be accepted”—she set down her menu and finally looked up at me—“but I had my first consultation with a Dr. Wilson at the Combat Stress Centre this morning.” Brown eyes stared at me from across the table. “Right, well…the centre is all the way out in Surrey, and I was leaving the offices to come meet you for Dr. B’s appointment, and ran into Sarah. She uses the CSC as well. I was hideously late by that point, and had no way to reach you, so I borrowed Sarah’s mobile—”
“—You found someone?” she interrupted, her face now full of the spark and fire I loved to see. I felt instantly better.
I nodded. “I did, baby. I’m giving Dr. Wilson a crack at me.”
She reached her hand across the table. “I’m so glad. So glad to hear you telling me this, Ethan. It’s the best news I’ve heard all day,” she said, pulling my hand up to her cheek.
I sensed something more than my tardiness was worrying my girl. “Why? Did everything go all right at Dr. B’s? Anything I need to know, Brynne?”
She pursed her lips and slowly rocked her head from side to side. “Nothing to report from Dr. B. Twenty-nine-week-old, acorn-squash baby, growing steady. All systems still a go.” She gave me a slow wink.
That’s my sexy girl. “So, you’re saying Dr. B is still my best mate?” She laughed at me silently, loving to tease me about cutting me off. It was funny—and it wasn’t. We’d just have to be more creative when the time came to drop the sex. I could stand it if I had her close by me, to touch, and to smell. Intimacy was so much more than just gettin’ off. I’d learned this lesson well in the short time since I’d found my Brynne.
“Yes, he’s still your friend. But, I want to know about your visit to the Combat Stress Centre.” She smiled at me, completely back to her bright happy self. “Tell me about Dr. Wilson. I want to know everything.”
How can I tell you everything, my beautiful darling? How? How can I ever do that to you?
I wished I could tell her everything, but I doubted I would ever be able to.
CHAPTER 14
24th December
London
“SHE’S beautiful, she’s smart, she’s sexy as hell, and she’s brilliant with the nosh.” I came up behind her and plastered myself against her body as she worked at the countertop from the kitchen. “Treats everywhere,” I said, snagging a sugar biscuit in the shape of a bird and popping it in my mouth. “Sweets, and…you.” I grabbed a handful of her arse and gave a squeeze as the buttery confection melted away in my mouth.
“Thief,” she said.
“You love me in spite of my thievery.” I nuzzled my nose at the back of her ear.
“I do, it’s true. The very first thing you thieved was my heart,” she said, turning to meet my lips for a sweet kiss, “and I don’t ever want it back.”
“Good thing, because it’s all mine,” I muttered before plundering between her lips with my tongue.
“And you say the nicest things to me.”
“But they’re all true,” I said, gathering her to face me, my hands loosely clasped low at her back. “You are beautiful.” Another deep kiss. “Wickedly smart.” I dragged my lips down her jaw and to her neck. “So sexy you make me burn.” I moved my mouth lower to cleavage that was growing by the day. “And a most accomplished kitchen-witch.” I ground my hips forward into hers, giving her a good feel of exactly how much I appreciated all of her talents.
“ONE year ago today we passed each other in an aquarium shop, having no idea we would come to this place in our lives together.” I ran my fingers over Ethan’s arm as we lay sprawled on the sofa on our sides, watching the lights on the tree framed by the city lights of London. “Did you remember?”
“Oh, yeah. I’ve remembered very well ever since the day we figured it out. Every time I look at Simba in his tank, I remember.” He rubbed my belly in a circle, his hands touching me anywhere he could comfortably reach in our position. “And especially with my birthday present, which is perfect by the way. I’m sure even Simba agrees.”
“I’m glad you like her, baby. You’re a hard fellow to buy for. Dory is the perfect girlfriend for Simba though, and he definitely needed a good woman to keep him in line.”
He chuckled. “Just like me.”
“That’s right, but you still went way overboard for my birthday. You buy me a luxury car and I get you a new fish.”
“I love my new fish,” he said indignantly, “a blue tang for my birthday was my greatest desire.”
I laughed at his silliness, loving that my serious guy could joke and tease with me so easily. Despite his life experiences, Ethan was blessed with a wonderful sense of humor that I cherished in him. He could make me laugh as easily as he could make me burn hot. A uniquely talented man.
“So, really, today is sort of an anniversary for us when you think about it,” I said.
“One year.” He inhaled heavily at my neck. “I didn’t even get a good look at you, but I do remember your purple hat and scarf, and of course, how taken you were by the Christmas Eve snowstorm.”
Considering it was winter and we were naked on the living room sofa, I was surprised at how warm I felt, with absolutely no uncomfortable chill in the room. Hot thumping sex and a radiating furnace plastered against my backside, in the form of my husband, worked wonders, apparently. “Well, the snow was magically beautiful, and you’ve got to understand—a Christmas snowfall for a Cali girl is probably a once in a lifetime occurrence.”
“You never know, now that you live here, it might snow again some Christmas.” His lips brushed the back of my neck.
“True.” I shivered under his lips making trails on my naked skin. “I also remember being jealous of the woman who got to smell you all the time, and it’s funny, but I didn’t look at you, either. If I had, I would’ve known you the night of Benny’s show.�
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He kissed along the top of my shoulder. “Ben’s show—best night of my life.”
“Not for me,” I said, snuggling more deeply against him. “I’m pretty sure right now is the best night of my life.”
“Mmmm…you don’t mind we aren’t out at some party tonight being festive for the season?”
“Um, no, not at all. Besides, we’ll have a full day of it tomorrow at your dad’s house.”
“I rather wish we’d spent Christmas at Stonewell instead of here,” he said softly, one hand sliding up my torso to fondle a breast, lifting the weight and circling the nipple. “But we couldn’t have done this…so, maybe not.”
I laughed at his logic. “Yeah, buckets of paint and power tools pose a problem for finding comfortable places to maneuver a shag.” We’d actually considered spending the holidays in the country, but the major renovations underway at Stonewell helped us make the decision to stay in London instead. Here, things were mostly organized, with the exception of the conversion of a spare bedroom into a nursery.
“I imagine I would’ve found a way to ravish you amid all that bulky equipment,” he said low at my ear, as he thrust against my ass with a hot length of maleness wanting more of what we’d done already.
Once was never enough for Ethan, and I was perfectly fine with that. I hoped his need for me never went away. I don’t think I would thrive without it.
“I want this,” he rasped, two of his fingers plying my back entrance with determined pressure, sending jolts of arousal firing to all of my erogenous zones.
