“I know.” He kissed the top of her head. “Want some coffee?” he offered. She shifted in his lap, his eyes meeting hers.
“Tell me something you want to happen in the next three years,” she asked him out of nowhere. He answered without a second thought.
“I want us to be at a point in our relationship where talking about adding more to our family doesn’t feel like some kind of lame attempt at trying to save our marriage.”
“Do you think talking about adding to our bunch right now would be that? A lame attempt to save our marriage?”
“Oh, yeah.” His eyes widened as he nodded.
“Why?” she asked, and he knew that tone. Simple curiosity.
“Because, isn’t it a cliché? Hell, while we were apart and I was home, all I kept thinking about were ways I could make sure to keep you tied to me.”
“Such a guy.” Her lips twitched, surprising him. He would have thought she would have been upset by his admission. “Your plan to fixing us was to keep me barefoot and pregnant?” she asked. Her body shook slightly with laughter, and he tickled her side before giving her a tight squeeze, glad she could have a sense of humor about his caveman thoughts instead of getting pissed at him.
“I can’t say the idea didn’t cross my mind,” he muttered to the top of her head. She shifted deeper into his body.
“Such a guy,” she repeated with an obvious smile in her voice.
“You liked that about me a couple of minutes ago.”
“I love that about you.” She kissed his cheek. “I want us there, too,” she whispered against his stubble-covered face. He held her tighter. Breathing easier with every second that ticked by while she was in his arms. Time flew by and stood still all at once.
“I should finish making breakfast before our day starts.”
“I’ll help you,” he said, and the smile she gave him mesmerized him. Before she could say anything, the sound of the back door opening and slamming shut rang in the air. They both turned to see Vivian walking toward them. Still in PJs and her hair messy from sleep, she waved with a yawn.
“Dad! Uncle Paul is on the phone.” He stilled and looked at Nadia, surprised to see warmth staring back at him.
“Go. You know it has to be important if he’s reaching out to you via landline.” She winked and got off his lap, giving him her hand. Reaching out, he took it and stood. Walking side by side, they reached Viv and the three of them went back inside.
Owen had no idea that at that moment he should have ignored that call.
Chapter Seventeen
Nadia
WE HAD HAD A FULL WEEK.
The best week.
Between the daily tasks of the challenge, the construction, and just having time with Owen, there was nothing I could complain about. Not that I was gullible; I wasn’t.
In the back of my mind, I knew it was only a matter of time before his phone would ring and it would be the hospital luring him back, testing us.
Every time one of our phones had gone off, I’d braced, expecting the other shoe to drop and force me to wake up from the daydream that had been our life. But not one call had been for him.
Until this morning.
And instead of feeling worried or upset that the week before would simply become a memory because we would both simply fall back into the habit of how we were living our lives before this trip, I was calm. Cool and steadfast. I found my reaction to the phone call surprising. I simply headed inside to start breakfast, while Owen took Paul’s call.
Something had shifted between us the last few days. We were actually seeing each other. Listening and hearing one another as we worked together as a team. Whether it was with the renovations to the bathrooms or hanging with the girls; we were working as a team. Adding in our late-night activities, the night before and our morning tryst against the wall in the backyard, was the cherry to my happy sundae. I was relaxed and so genuinely happy. I couldn’t wipe away the cheesy smile on my face if I tried.
Without a word about the call, Owen returned to the kitchen and started to help set the table, making coffee for us, asking the girls what they would like to drink. Sitting together, we enjoyed our breakfast like a family, the last meal in the space until the renovation in the kitchen would be finished.
From breakfast on, the day was a blur of activity. From the four of us packing up the kitchen to taking the girls to the park and ice cream. For dinner, we went to a small local pizza place, where the four of us played some of the arcade games together. We got home and the girls headed to bed. It wasn’t until then we found ourselves sitting on the couch. I had a book in my hands as he watched whatever game was playing on the TV in front of us. Staring at him, I took in the lines of his face. His profile was strong and masculine. He had always been handsome, but I couldn’t help thinking how much sexier he was now. How blessed and thankful I was to have seen his face evolve from a young kid’s to a grown man’s.
As if he could feel me staring, he turned and raised a thick brow. “What’s up?” he asked, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.
“What did Paul want?” I asked, curiosity getting the best of me.
“Advice,” he sighed. I put my book down, shifting my body toward him.
“On women?” I sassed, and he chuckled, shaking his head. I rested my head on his shoulder when he pulled me in close, enjoying the heat and strength his body radiated.
“No. He has a tough case, wanted to know what I thought he should do.”
“And?”
“And it’s a tough one.” He sighed. Grabbing my hand, he stroked my wrist with his thumb. He was torn. I knew him. No matter how disconnected we might have been, I knew him. He wanted to be with us but also wanted to help his colleague and friend.
“You want to help him,” I nudged gently, moving slightly in his arms so we could look at one another again.
“I need to be here,” he answered confidently. I bit my lip, unsure of what to say. Even though he was right and I was thankful he saw that, I also knew he was a very talented plastic surgeon. Guilt hit me. He didn’t only help create fake boobs and suck fat; he helped all sorts of people, and my own insecurities hadn’t given him enough credit.
Trying to come up with the right words, I started to speak, “You could go and—”
“Babe,” he started to say but stopped speaking and leaned his head on the headrest of the couch, obviously conflicted. “I can’t tell you I don’t care about the case.”
“I’m not asking you to,” I responded wholeheartedly. “You could go, help Paul, and come back,” I suggested and watched his strong jaw clench.
“I could. But I won’t,” he gritted, still not looking at me.
“Why?”
“I need you to know you can count on me.” He turned to look at me. “Come here,” he ordered, and I went. He moved us easily, his strength evident by how he moved me so I could sit on his lap. “You do know that I haven’t just been feeding you pretty little words with our challenge and—” I lifted my finger over his lips to silence him.
“I know you’re not feeding me pretty words,” I assured him honestly. I could feel he was about to start to argue with me, so I hurried up and continued, “I don’t need you to stop working completely. I don’t want that. You love what you do.”
“I’m not doing that.” He sighed, taking my hand away from his lips, our fingers intertwining. “This time off is for us.”
“I get that. I do—”
“So why push me to go—”
“I’m not pushing, baby.” I stroked his face gently. “But I also know this vacation isn’t real life.”
“I know that,” he clipped, his square jaw clenched, but I kept stroking his face, enjoying the light stubble that had appeared throughout the day.
“I know.” I pressed my lips together and kept talking, thinking about today’s challenge we had not had a chance to do. “We’ve talked about what’s been wrong between us, where we might have gone wrong, and w
hat we want from here on out. When we get back to real life, all I want is that when you are with us, be here, be present. And if possible, maybe try to make it home a couple of nights a week for dinner and be present at least one day on the weekend.”
“What?”
“This is tonight’s task.”
“Shit,” he cursed, obviously having spaced because of our busy day.
“Don’t worry about it. We have to tell one another what we want from each other moving forward,” I reminded him and realized I was finally the one bringing up things to talk about. I felt proud for being the one to address it.
His frown deepened. “I’m sorry I almost missed tonight’s—”
“I know, and it’s okay. We had a busy day.” I pressed my forehead against his. “Now, tell me what you want.”
“You,” he immediately answered, and my eyes stung with happy tears.
“You have me. Now, be honest,” I pushed after giving him a small kiss. The way he looked at me, I knew I would have to press further. “Please.”
“I want you to talk to me,” he finally gave in and shared. “You don’t like something, you gotta tell me. I do something stupid, I want you to call me out on it. I don’t want you to ever feel like you are alone in life. I don’t want you to feel lost or like you don’t have someone to count on.” I swallowed hard, listening to his words, and I knew he was right. I needed to do that.
“I hate the minivan,” I blurted without thinking.
“Wait, what?” His head tilted, and I sighed.
“The minivan. I just—”
“It’s safe and spacious,“ he logically pointed out. I nodded, understanding what he was saying.
“It is. But it is also not me,” I confessed honestly. “I’m not a minivan type of mom.” I watched him blink and nervously waited for his reaction.
“You’re right.” His green eyes were clear and sincere.
“I am?” There was no way I could hide the surprise I felt.
“You’re not the minivan type. Why did you let me get that for you?” His eyes widened, and I laughed.
“I have no idea.”
“I’ll be home on the weekends and at least two–three nights every week for dinner. And I wanna try and help with picking up the girls after ballet or gymnastics.”
“Okay,” I agreed easily.
“Just like that?”
“What do you mean?”
“When I’ve offered before, you shrugged me off, reminding me of the time I dropped the ball,” he shared. I couldn’t argue what he was saying because he was right. I had done that.
“I’m sorry.” And I was. I had done that over and over until he simply stopped offering.
“I am, too,” he whispered against my lips. I leaned in, giving him a small peck.
“Call Paul back. Tell him you will be there tomorrow.”
“Demo starts tomorrow on the kitchen. I can’t leave—”
“I got it.” And I did. I was excited about it and meant that I had things under control. And I didn’t feel one ounce of anything towards him having to leave to go to work.
“It’s a lot of—” he started to argue, but I simply kissed him. Luckily, he didn’t push me away. One of his big hands gripped the back of my head as we kissed. Pulling away, I was slightly breathless. “Do what you have to do and come back,” I whispered and watched his green eyes close, relief shining through. I had been right. He had been torn about what to do but hadn’t wanted me to feel like I wasn’t somehow a priority to him, which meant he was committed to making us work.
“One day. I will be back tomorrow night,” he huskily promised.
“It’s just one day,” I repeated right before his lips touched mine and we got lost in a kiss so passionate it made my toes curl.
Chapter Eighteen
Owen
HE HAD FUCKED UP.
One day had turned into two and then three.
All for nothing.
Reconstructing Paul’s patient’s face had been far more complicated than either one of them could have seen or expected. All for nothing, since the patient had passed away while recovering from the second surgery. He had gone into cardiac arrest, and no matter what they’d tried, it hadn’t worked. They had lost him.
Parking his car in the driveway, finally back in Santa Barbara, he realized the small house was quickly starting to feel more like home than the huge place they called home that was only a twenty-minute drive from the hospital and was currently sitting empty.
Folding out of his car, he looked at the front door, and his heart lightened and skipped a beat as he took in the sight of his beautiful wife standing at the door waiting for him with a smile on her face so bright he didn’t see the need for moonlight.
“Hey,” Nadia said as they met halfway. He took her in his arms and wanted to apologize for having left. Instead, he held her close.
“Hey, baby,” he muttered before his lips touched hers.
“Hey, you okay?” she asked looking up at him, her dark eyes pools of warm chocolate he wanted to let himself drown in.
“Yeah. I’m sorry…” he told her, but his words stopped when she tilted her head and looked at him with such open eyes it blew him away.
“For?” she asked, clearly confused. He didn’t know what he had done to deserve her.
“I shouldn’t have left, Nadia.” He could hear the raw emotion and regret in his voice.
“Did you help Paul?” she asked gently, without judgement in her voice. He swallowed hard.
“I tried,” he admitted. “But it didn’t matter. The patient—” She knew what had happened and placed an open palm on his chest.
“Life happens, Owen,” she whispered softly, her hands holding his face. He leaned into her touch.
“I should have stayed,” he told her, his voice strained. “You and me, the way we are—”
“You’re back,” she pointed out.
“It took three days.”
“I know, Owen. But you’re back and you’re here and we are fine,” she assured him. He couldn’t stop himself. Kissing her started hot and heavy, her small body holding on to his tightly. He slowed the kiss until it turned into gently playful nips and licks before she pulled away.
“How was your drive?” she asked, slightly breathless after their sweet kiss ended, and just like that, she helped him without knowing it. He had been bracing for a cold shoulder from her and had been prepared to grovel. But this was her showing him they were going to be okay.
“Not too bad.” He squeezed her tightly, enjoying the feel of her in his arms before letting her go so they could walk inside. Traffic had been lighter than he’d expected; he was simply thankful to be back with his girls.
“Good. The girls knocked out about twenty minutes ago, but they wanted me to tell you they missed you.”
“I missed them,” he murmured, feeling even more tired as he looked around. A wall was now missing, giving the home what would be an open concept. Though, currently, it looked like what it was. A construction zone.
“It’s coming together, right?” She grinned so brightly she radiated excitement; and fuck him, it was contagious. Taking in his silence, she kept talking. “I know the house is a mess, but it’s going to look so good once it’s done. They added the support beam yesterday.” She pointed toward the ceiling. “I told them not to worry about staining it; I would do it.” He turned his neck to the side and down to look at her so quickly he was surprised he didn’t pull anything.
“You?”
“Yeah.” She simply grinned, almost bouncing with joy.
“When have you ever stained wood before?” he asked, his lips twitching, finding the idea of her up on a ladder staining the exposed support beam more than a little amusing.
“I’ve watched tons of how-to videos and picked up a dresser at that little thrift store by the coffee shop. I can practice on it before working on the beam.”
“As long as I’m here when you do it, that’s fi
ne,” he ordered, smirking at the sass that single raised eyebrow of hers implied. God, I’ve missed her.
“Fridge has the essentials and I have the pantry stuff boxed, but it’s easily accessible. David said this should only take about two weeks, since they are only re-painting the old cabinets. It’s not like we have to wait for custom cabinetry or anything.” She chose to ignore him, and he couldn’t help but bring her in close, his arms around her waist, his hands stroking her back.
“Okay,” he murmured, taking in the maroon tank top she was wearing and how much nicer it would look… say, on the floor.
“You okay?” she asked, not shying away from him, pressing her front into him. He knew there was no hiding the rigid hardness that was coming to life in her presence behind his dress slacks. Her hands slid up his torso. He shivered, his skin covered with goose bumps underneath his clothing. “Tired?”
“Nadia,” he warned. Need rushed through him as his dick hardened.
“Hmm?” she breathed as her fingers toyed with the top button of his dress shirt.
“What are you doing?”
“Nothing.” Her dark eyes sparkled. He knew exactly what she was up to; he had no problems with it whatsoever.
Picking her up, her legs holding on tightly as they wrapped up around his waist, he took them to their bedroom and straight into the shower, where the sounds of their lovemaking could be muffled. Because he knew the way he was feeling, making love to his wife was going to remind him of exactly how alive he was.
***
It was a little after two in the morning when he woke startled and in a cold sweat. He had lost patients in the past, but this one had hit him hard. The helplessness he’d felt had been too familiar to how he felt when Nadia had opened his eyes, showing him how messed up their relationship really had been. Usually, he shut down emotionally when he lost a patient; instead, he found himself calling her the moment he stepped into his office, immediately feeling better at the sound of her voice. Even thinking about it now, he felt relief at the sight of the sleeping angel facing him, her small hand on his chest, her face at the side of it.
Stroking her cheek, he thought about the fact they had missed three days of their challenge. He didn’t like it. He shouldn’t have left for one day, much less three. She hadn’t said anything or had even brought it up. But that was Nadia. She tried to make things easier for him, even when he didn’t deserve it. Not that they hadn’t talked. They had. Every morning and night, they’d checked in with each other and touched base. Hearing his girl’s voice had been the highlight of his days.
Something Worth Saving Page 14
