by Raine Miller
Vastly different.
I could now feel my body. My hands, my toes, my head. Does that mean…I’ve made it? Oh, fuckin’ fuck yes! I felt euphoria. I was alive…and Brynne was close by. It was so good…whatever was being done to me. The massaging of fingers through my hair, over and over again. Fingers I knew well. Belonging to a hand I’d felt, and held, and kissed. The hand slowly rubbed my scalp. Her hand—Brynne’s hand touched me, and that was the most wonderful perfect fucking thing. I wanted to tell her how much I loved her, and that I was going to be fine, but I couldn’t speak yet. All I could do was breathe her in, and savour the feel of her touching me. Somehow, by some miraculous intervention, I’d survived. I remembered the angel wings holding me when I was floating between life and death. It very much reminded me of another time when it had happened to me.
Thank you, Mum. Again.
I knew complete and total relief, and knew I could stop struggling now…and just sleep a little more, with my girl right beside me.
LITTLE kicks and nudges rumbled against my hand. I loved it. Always made me smile. I knew exactly what I was feeling. Laurel-Thomas was talking to Daddy. You’ve gotten stronger, little one. I rubbed my hand over the baby, trying to imagine which body part was which. Was that a little bum or the crown of a head? More kicks pummeled my palm, and made me laugh. It was the best damn feeling in the whole fucking world. Like a blessing—a gift I didn’t expect—perfectly beautiful.
“Ethan laughed. Did you hear him, Ivan? He’s laughing at the baby kicking.” I knew that voice. That was my Brynne talking to Ivan.
I opened my eyes.
“It worked,” she said in a whisper. “You came back to me.”
Brynne’s face was a mess of tears and worry. She looked exhausted with dark circles under her eyes and her hair all mussed. Her eyes were glassy from crying. But the sight of her against me so close, was the most beautiful sight my pitiful eyes had ever beheld in the whole of my life.
“Brynne…baby—” I smiled, and stared at every inch of her face, soaking in the sight of her for a moment. “—I dreamed of you up on that mountain—to help me to get warm…and find a safe place to go. I just dreamed you, and knew things would be good, and I was happy, not afraid.”
“Oh, Ethan, Ethan, Ethan…” she sobbed, burrowing into my chest and rocking her forehead back and forth. I took stock of where we were and figured it was a hospital bed, and both of us were lying on our sides, facing each other. My girl had crawled up into my hospital bed with me, apparently, so I could smell her. She’d even gone a step further by putting my hand on her belly so I could feel Laurel-Thomas kicking madly away from the inside. Both of them had called me back.
I looked over at my cousin and caught the words, welcome back, mouthed at me.
Thanks, I mouthed in return, grateful to him for helping Brynne while I was out of it. Then he grinned at me, and slipped out the door, jogging his hand to his ear in the universal “ring me” gesture.
“I love you so much,” I whispered, trying to keep my own emotions in check. I brought my hand up to her chin and forced her face up to meet mine. I needed to look into her eyes first. Then, once I’d drowned myself in all their multicoloured glory, I would need to kiss her for a long, long time.
I think she was in a bit of shock because she just kept saying the same thing over and over again.
“You came back to me.”
“I did, my beauty, because you brought me back. You did it…and an angel helped me, too.”
15th January
ETHAN was so very quiet on the ride home from the hospital. We sat in the back seat together while Len drove. He held my hand tightly, gripping so hard it actually felt uncomfortable, but I wasn’t willing to pull away from him. Ethan needed to touch me, even if it was just by our hands.
His dad had called me and asked about having dinner to celebrate his homecoming, but I made an excuse to postpone for the following week. Ethan wasn’t up for socializing, and quite frankly, I wasn’t either. His accident had made me paranoid, and if I allowed myself to think about how close he’d come to dying, I was likely to have a panic attack. I knew that wouldn’t be good for the baby, so I refused the frightening thought’s entrance into my mind. For now, I just wanted him near me, where I could take care of him, and he could heal.
Ethan walked into the flat by himself using the crutches, but on his own power. I closed and locked the door behind him, and followed him into the main room.
He stopped in the middle and just stood there, his eyes on me, a brutal rawness in his expression now that we were alone together.
“Come here,” he said in harsh whisper.
I went to my Ethan.
I was swept into his arms immediately, seized so tightly against his body, I gasped in surprise. His crutches crashed to the floor with a bang when he let go of them to hold onto me. Ethan’s desperation to bring me close, ruled the moment, and I understood why. My man had been traumatized, yet again, by the imminent threat of death. He’d been certain he would die up on the mountain, without ever getting a chance to see me again, or to meet our baby, or tell us he loved us, or say goodbye properly. Memories of me had been his comfort to help him through the experience, and then when he didn’t die, he was thrust back into reality and forced to process that he’d survived. A total and complete mindfuck for him.
“Ethan. I’m here, baby. Let me help you.”
“I need—I need to be with you,” he rasped into my neck, his beard prickling my skin as he pressed in deep.
I pulled back, forcing him to look at me, and focus on my words. “Let’s go to our bed, and forget about everything else for the moment. Just you and me together.” A look of pain spread across his face. “And then, later, we can talk about the things that we needed to say to each other before you left for Switzerland. But right now, the two of us need to be close, and feel that for a while.”
He closed his eyes for a second and then opened them again, a look of total relief in his eyes. “Yes…please.” He looked down at the floor where his crutches lay sprawled. I bent to retrieve them, and handed them to him one at a time. His hardened, wounded expression softened as he took the crutches. “I wish I could tell you how much I love you…but there aren’t enough words to fucking express it.”
“I know.”
He followed me into our bedroom and sat down on the side of the bed. This time, arranging his crutches where he’d be able to reach them when he wanted to get up again. I came to stand between his legs and felt his hands come up immediately to draw me closer. His face buried just below my breasts, his hands cupped my backside, and his nose inhaled my natural scent.
Ethan was desperately trying to crawl back into me.
I knew what he really needed was a hard and wild fuck from me, but I also knew, just as he did, that I couldn’t give it to him any more than he was capable of giving it to me. We would have to figure out another way.
I stepped back until I was just out of reach, but still close.
I kicked off my flats and kept my eyes on him.
“I want you to remember the first time I was here in this bed with you—the first time we were together.”
I unbuttoned my back cardigan and let it fall to the floor. His eyes followed to where I’d dropped it, and then lifted back up to meet mine. “I remember,” he said.
“Then let’s go back to that time together,” I told him. “We were careful with each other because we were unsure about what the other person might want, or need.”
His blue eyes darkened. “I could hardly believe you agreed to come home with me. I was dying for you that night, Brynne. I’d never wanted anyone as much as I wanted you.”
I swallowed deeply and moved back between his legs. I reached for the hem of his shirt and pulled it up over his head.
He did the same with my dark grey dress—just lifted it up and off me when I bent at the waist to help him.
I straightened. “I wanted you just as much t
hat first time, Ethan. Just as much.” I unhooked my bra and let it drop. The almost inaudible sound of it hitting the floor ratcheted up the tension.
His eyes flared as he took in the sight of my much heavier breasts, and he reached out a hand to touch one. He traced the flesh with a fingertip in a wide circle, growing smaller with each rotation until he finished at my nipple.
He flipped his eyes up to mine. “I wanted to please you more than anything. I wanted to make you come, and hear the sounds you made when you did.”
I bent down to the floor and untied his right shoe. He leaned back on his elbows and stretched out his long body, lifting his hips for me so I could slide his sweat pants down his legs and over his cast.
My man looked absolutely gorgeous, splayed out naked with his cock fully erect. I knew what I would be doing first.
I knelt on the floor right at the edge of the bed, between his legs. I asked in a whisper, “And what did I say when you made me come?” I took his rock hard cock in my hand and stroked it from base to tip, standing it straight up off his packed abs.
He sucked in a breath and lowered his eyelids in pleasure, but he answered my question. “Ethan…you said…Ethan.”
I covered the head of his cock with my mouth and slid him to the back of my throat.
SHE gave me everything I needed. I don’t know how she knew what that was precisely, or when I needed it, but Brynne always knew the right thing to do.
After she got me off with her beautiful mouth, I returned the favour, relishing the exquisite feel of my very warm, and very safe place, shuddering beneath my lips, and convulsing around my tongue. I heard her call my name more than a few times before I was done with pleasuring her.
Later, we fell asleep together, spooning on our sides while I was still inside her, and slept that way for hours.
Best sleep of my life—with my precious girl wrapped around me.
I didn’t forget to be thankful.
CHAPTER 18
24th January
Somerset
LAND Rover knew how to make luxury vehicles, and I’d learned that information firsthand. I loved my car, and now that I’d gotten the hang of driving lefty, I was venturing out more than ever before. I think sometimes, Ethan might have second-guessed his birthday gift to me. Too late now, Blackstone. But he’d just have to deal with it. I was the driver in the family for the time being. He had a cast he could walk on, but only using crutches. He needed a few more weeks of bone-healing time before he put much weight on his left leg. He’d still have the cast when the baby was born. Something that annoyed him greatly, I knew, but he didn’t complain about it. I didn’t complain either. We both knew how much of a blessing it was to have him in the cast…over the unbearable alternative of him not being here at all. Hell, I loved that damn, inconvenient cast.
I’d left Ethan at Zara’s mercy. Tea party today. I don’t think he really minded a bit. In fact, he’d seemed quite into the whole thing, even putting on a velvet jacket and a fancy bow tie- cravat thingy. I took pictures of them together with my camera. They would be priceless keepers for sure. Robbie’s wife, Ellen, had made the prettiest spread for them, iced cupcakes and strawberries, and tea, of course, with milk and sugar. I would’ve stayed and joined in, but I needed my twice-weekly massage more than I needed tea and cake. Especially now that I was bigger and experiencing all kinds of aches and pains. Back pain, pelvic pain, and even the occasional headache. The massages helped me so very much.
I’d been enjoying regular massages since Christmas, when Ethan purchased a decadent amount of treatments for me to enjoy. God, my man gave the best gifts. But after we’d made the decision to spend his recuperation time at Stonewell, I was in need of somebody local to help me get through the final weeks of the pregnancy. Enter Diane, who took very good care of me with her Aromatherapy and Reflexology talents, and thanks to Hannah pointing me in the right direction.
I pulled up to her little shop called Treats, and parked on the street. The historic village of Kilve was tiny, but complete with a seventeenth-century coaching inn called The Hood Arms, a thirteenth-century church named St. Mary’s, and its famous fossil-laden shore at Kilve Beach. It looked like an old postcard to me, and was so very peaceful. I think both Ethan and I instinctively understood that the peace of this place, combined with its natural outdoor beauty, was exactly what we needed, and doing us more good than anything else could. We planned to stay at Stonewell until mid-February. So, we’d be in London, where Dr. Burnsley was standing by with his superior medical experience, to deliver our Laurel-Thomas, hopefully by my due-date on the 28th of February.
As I walked to enter Diane’s shop, a beautiful young dog got up from underneath the sidewalk-table where he’d been sitting. He wagged his tail enthusiastically and hunkered down to greet me in that universal way dogs have of showing you they are friendly. “Well, hello there, handsome.” I bent down and pet the top of his head, the fur thick and dark around his face, but more amber on his chest and belly. He wasn’t a small puppy, but more like an adolescent dog, and he was definitely a he. I knew his breed—German Shepherd—and thought he was absolutely beautiful. “What’s your name, gorgeous boy? Are you waiting for your owner?” I spoke to him as I rubbed through his silky fur, loving the color of his golden eyes. He licked my hand and leaned into me as I gave him some attention, wondering why he had no leash or collar on him. Surely he belonged to somebody.
He looked at me solemnly when I stood up to go inside the shop for my appointment. “I have to go in now, fella,” I said.
He barked once as if he were saying, “Don’t go…” It rather broke my heart to leave him.
“NOW I need a very long nap, Diane. God, that was wonderful.” I complimented her and rolled my neck, breathing in the aromatic oils she used at the shop. As I handed her my card to pay, I heard the bark again. And there he was, staring in through the glass of the shop window, wagging his tail at me.
“Looks like you have an admirer, Brynne,” Diane chuckled. “I bet he’d go home with you, if you allowed him.”
“He would?” But what about his owner? “Who does he belong to?”
“He’s a stray. Just showed up a few days ago, and has been lingering around the shops for scraps. It’s so sad what people do to innocent animals. Especially the big ones, as he will be when he reaches his full growth. The larger dogs get abandoned, dumped on the side of the road.” She shook her head and grimaced disgustedly. “Arseholes ought to be abandoned to the cold with no food or shelter, and see how they like it.” Diane looked out the window at him. “I’ve been putting out some food, as has Lowell from next door because we don’t want him to starve, but he really needs a home, and a family. A big dog like that needs open space where he can run.” She winked at me with her pretty hazel eyes. “He would make an excellent guard dog and protector. I imagine your husband would very much approve.”
“LET me do all of the talking, okay?” We shared a look with each other, his round golden eyes lifting up to hold mine as if he understood me. The new leather collar and leash looked good on him. And he was fluffy and clean now, thanks to Diane pointing us in the direction of the pet supply and groomers, where her son, Clark, just happened to work. With Clark’s helpful assistance, I chose dog food, a bed, dishes for food and water, and even some doggy chew-toys, while he was being bathed and groomed. Then Clark loaded everything into the back of my Rover, and waved cheerfully to me as I drove away. And just like that, the decision was made.
The drive home was fun, and I don’t think I ever stopped grinning once. I had a furry passenger sitting in the front beside me with a seat belt strapped across his chest. My dog. I could tell he loved me already.
Nothing left, but to drop the bomb on my husband.
“I need to figure out a name for you,” I said to him as we went in search of Ethan and Zara. His toenails clicked on the wood floor as he walked beside me. I swear he was on his best behavior, trying to show me what a good dog he would
be. I wasn’t worried, I just didn’t know what Ethan would say when I showed up with a big German Shepherd, and announced I’d be keeping him.
I was about to find out.
I could hear them before I went in, and knew what they were doing before I saw the evidence. They were playing a game that Zara loved, and Ethan, probably not so much, but he was a good sport about it. Pretty Pretty Princess. I’d loved the game, too…when I was little. There were photos of my dad wearing the crown and other jewels, happy as could be, indulging me in playing a ridiculous little girl’s dress-up game just because it pleased me. You were so good to me, Daddy.
And there was Ethan sporting a turquoise necklace and matching earrings, battling Zara for the win. “Ah ha, the black ring is gone!” he boasted across the table from Zara, in her blue and yellow party dress.
“But you don’t have the crown,” she smirked, poking her finger into the frosting on her cupcake and licking it off.
“I probably will win it, though,” he teased, “I think I’d look good in a crown.”
Zara giggled at him, and my heart just melted into a puddle of goo. I knew Ethan would be such an amazing father. Just watching him interact with Zara was a beautiful thing. It made my heart so happy, I needed to rub my belly to remind myself everything was still real. Yep, that was a miniature rump underneath my hand. I grinned as I worked out the position of head vs. legs and decided that my butterfly angel was upside down. It was fun to figure things like that out.
Sometimes my new life felt more than a little unreal. So much had changed in such a short time. But, moving forward was my only option, and desire. With Ethan’s commitment to me, his devotion and love, and our child, how could I want anything else?
