As he came to a halt in front of her grave now, he was glad to see that everything was in order. There was no moss on the stone, and fresh flowers—probably Ronald’s—were laid out. “Hi, baby,” he rasped out, staring at her name on the black marble, Cara Ward. Ironic what a bad warden he’d been to her, not able to protect her. Fate was a bitch—nothing new—probably laughing her ass off right now.
As his knees buckled, he let himself sink down onto the grass, kneeling before the grave. “I’m sorry I didn’t come here earlier but you know, I never forgot you, right, baby?” Helplessly he gripped the stone with one hand, wishing so badly to see her face again. Only one time. Only to say goodbye.
“I’m so sorry, baby, I miss you so fucking much.” He didn’t notice the tears dropping from his eyes until they wet his lips. “It should have never happened. We should have…” He couldn’t end the sentence. It was too hard, but Cara would understand, of that he was sure. That was the only thing she and Jasmine had in common—seeing right through the grim mask of his face. Nodding to himself, he tried again. “We would have been happy.”
Like stones were weighing him down, his head sank until his chin met his chest. He knew what waited beside the black marble stone, but he couldn’t even take a glance; he would never be able to handle that. Trying to distract himself, he concentrated on Cara, tried to remember every single thing about her. After five years without her it was hard; her face wasn’t as clear in front of his eyes anymore as it once had been. What remained as stark as ever was the love they’d shared. He needed to hold on to that because that was what mattered most.
“I met someone,” he began to tell her. “You two are completely different.” The thought made him chuckle weakly. “I think you’d like her. And Chester of course.” Cara had loved dogs. Together they’d decided to get one as soon as their first child was big enough to play with a puppy. It had never come to that.
So Cole began telling Cara everything about Jasmine’s French bulldog, about his past, the missing ear, and that fuckhead breeder or whoever had thrown the puppy into that dumpster. In his mind, he saw Cara reacting to everything that he told her, her face became more clear again, and at last he told her all about Jasmine. It didn’t feel like telling her he’d cheated because well, he was sitting at her grave. Even Cole understood that cheating was defined differently.
“I need to let go, baby. I can’t go on like this anymore.” In that moment, he felt her. It didn’t matter if it was only the wind or his imagination. For a brief second she was there, and he could tell her everything. “I spent five years in a black hole of nothing. Jasmine is like light shining down on me.”
Breathing heavily, he now was gripping the tombstone with both hands. He wished he could have held Cara back then when she’d slipped away from their life. “I promise, I’ll come back,” he rasped, before standing up. He had no idea what time it was, but he’d been there for a few hours, perhaps even longer. As he started to turn away, he found that he couldn’t go yet. He looked.
And his world came crashing back down.
♥♥♥
LOUD, IMPATIENT KNOCKING at her door made Jasmine rush toward it. That idiot would alarm the whole building if she didn’t stop him quickly enough! Tearing the door open, the curse she planned to throw in her visitor’s face died on her tongue immediately.
Cole.
Something wasn’t right. She’d never seen him like this—burning irises, a sorrow so deep, it made her unable to speak. His eyes were red-rimmed, his lips tightly pressed together. “I was there and I looked.” His whole body shook. “I shouldn’t have.”
He didn’t make any sense, but it didn’t matter. Obviously, he needed her right now. Despite telling him to go only that morning, she couldn’t turn him away now. Jasmine wasn’t heartless. Without any words, she stepped back for him to enter. The door closed behind his large body with a gentle click. Cole kept coming straight at her until he’d pressed her up against the wall of the corridor.
Like he was drowning, his mouth descended on hers. And perhaps he was—in memories. She could help him forget. Determined and overwhelmed at the same time, she laid her arms around his neck, simply holding on to him. The kiss was branding, hot, and desperate. Dominating, he completely controlled it. A cry of pleasure left her throat when he nipped at her lower lip shortly before giving her another of those earth-shattering kisses. Automatically, she drew her arms tighter around him.
Following her body language, he pressed her even closer against him, by stepping forward. The bulge beneath his jeans rubbed against her belly; his whole body was so damn hot it heated everything inside of her. Whatever had made him snap in the first place made his movements edgy, the tenseness inside of him visible. Suddenly he lifted her, giving her no choice but to cross her legs behind his back. Like that, her pelvis was perfectly aligned with his hardness. Another cry of pleasure broke free.
“I need you,” he said hoarsely against her ear, then he kissed and nipped at her vulnerable throat. In response, her head fell back—everything he did felt so good. With her hands, she combed through his thick dark hair, which was longer on top than on the sides. At the sensation of her nails on his scalp, he growled in pleasure.
“I need you so fucking much.” That was the moment he ripped her T-shirt off over her head. The bra fell to the floor only seconds later. Immediately his head bent down so that he could bite her nipples, kissing and playing with the sensitive buds. “I love the feel of you,” he breathed against her exposed skin. Heat was flooding her lower belly; she couldn’t keep still anymore but began rubbing herself against his rigid erection.
“Me, too,” she murmured, crying out again when he sucked on her. God, this man knew how to make her lose her mind.
After he’d carried her into the kitchen, he slowly let her slide down his body. The sensation of their bodies rubbing against each other made her breath hitch. Quickly he opened her jeans, pushing them down together with her panties. “So beautiful,” he said against her bare flesh, pressing a French kiss against her center. He hit the sweetest spot ever; before she could hold herself back, she screamed in shock and ecstasy. If the knocking at her door hadn’t alarmed the neighbors, then well, her scream probably would.
There was no time to think about that now because Cole turned her around, bending her upper body down onto the kitchen counter. He came up behind her, pressing himself against her and moaning in unison with Jasmine. Even though he was still completely dressed, it felt like there was no barrier between them, perhaps because emotionally—there wasn’t. Leaning down he nipped at her throat, and one of his hands found its way into her hair. He had complete control, still Jasmine was the one with the strings in her hands. “Say you want me,” he demanded against her ear, his hot breath stroking her skin. Yes, she had shown him the door before, but in this moment there was no one whom she wanted more than him.
“I want you, Cole,” she answered immediately, moving a little until her butt rubbed against him.
“Fuck, yes,” he growled, muffling the sound by biting into her shoulder. A second later, he one-handedly unzipped his jeans and freed himself. With one hard stroke, he entered her from behind; they both screamed out, exhilarated. The hand in her hair held her down while he gave both of them immense pleasure by pumping in and out of her in a fierce rhythm. His free hand found her clit, playing with it until Jasmine began bucking beneath him. “God, yes!” she breathed out, while already flying high on cloud nine. He never stopped stimulating the nerve bundle between her legs, and to her shock, she came again right after the first time.
“That’s it, angel,” he rasped out, his big body enclosing hers. Kissing her neck, he used the hand in her hair to turn her head so that he could press his lips to hers again. Her next orgasm she screamed into his mouth. By now every nerve ending tingled, and she felt overly sensitive.
“Cole, I can’t take more,” she whispered, not sure if she begged him to stop or pleasure her forever.
<
br /> “You can take me,” he assured and demanded from her at the same time. His next kiss was gentle. In the meantime, his arms wrapped around her belly, dragging her body up against his chest. With his hand on her breasts, he hammered into her a few last times, then—biting into her shoulder—he came inside her. When she followed him into the heights of his orgasm, this time it was due to emotional, not sensual overload. Crying out, she lifted her hands to hold onto his neck, probably scratching him, but neither of them cared.
When they eventually finished, they both breathed heavily. Gently, as if to ease her down from her high, he kissed the place between her neck and shoulder. Sighing, Jasmine closed her eyes. Never before had she felt closer to another human being than in this very moment. The beauty of it brought tears to her eyes which she quickly blinked away.
After a few more seconds, Cole let his forehead sink down onto her shoulder, enjoying the closeness as much as she did. “I can’t be without you,” he told her in a low voice. The emotions made his tone heavy. Blinking away new tears, Jasmine slightly shook her head. What could possibly have changed within a few hours? Nothing. That was the problem.
As she began to struggle, he slipped out of her and stepped back, so that she could turn around and face him. Only then did she realize that he was still completely clothed but for his open jeans. It made her feel exposed. Uncomfortable, she rubbed her arms. Apparently, Cole could read her expression well because he pulled off his T-shirt and helped her into it.
“Thanks,” she murmured, suddenly feeling shy, even tongue-tied. Gently he laid a hand onto her chin, demanding she look into his eyes.
“I went by her grave today. After five years, for the first time.”
Totally taken aback, Jasmine only blinked. Five years? The pain in his eyes seemed so fresh—as if it had only happened a few months or even days ago. “Time was never the problem, angel.” Why was he smiling then? The fact that nothing had changed after five years made it worse. Obviously the love for his wife had been so great, he would never be ready for a second one.
But something had changed, she realized. He had visited his wife’s grave for the first time in such a long time.
“Let me talk,” he said in a pleading voice. “You can always throw me out afterward.”
♥♥♥
Chapter 15
CLEARLY IT WASN’T easy for him to tell her about his past. Therefore, she appreciated it a lot that he did so. In search of new panties, she made her way toward the bedroom, Cole on her heels. “You can sit down,” she murmured when they entered the room. While he did exactly that, Jasmine went to her dresser. Quickly she slipped on bright yellow panties; afterward she turned around.
Leaning against the dresser, she watched Cole on her bed. His figure was so tall and muscular that he made her queen-sized bed look small. No wonder the bed in his mansion was a king-size. Distracted by her own thoughts, she blinked and concentrated on Cole again. Both of his hands lay on his knees, twitching with unease. If she’d known how, she would have tried to make this easier on him. But the past had already happened—sadly there was nothing to change or make better about it.
“What was her name?” Jasmine asked as gently as she could when Cole hadn’t said anything after several minutes. At her words, his head snapped up. Once he opened his mouth, nothing came out. After having cleared his throat, he tried again.
“Cara. Her name was Cara.”
“Beautiful name,” Jasmine whispered, “you know, it means my love or dearest in Italian.”
“Yeah,” he nodded, clearing his throat once again, “I know.” Eventually, he managed to speak. “And she was my dearest love. We were together since high school, chose colleges together, moved in with each other at nineteen and married right after college.”
Listening to his voice, it was like hearing a fairy tale. Only this one probably had been narrated by the Grimm brothers and not by some Disney screenwriter, for this fairy tale ended badly. At that thought, her heart clenched sympathetically. The pain on Cole’s face was so stark, it physically hurt Jasmine to watch him.
“We always knew we wanted to have kids. My tech company was just a start-up back then, so we waited. Cara was a kindergarten teacher.” His voice broke, but he shook his head as if silently telling Jasmine not to come near him right now. “She was such a sweet soul.” Rapidly he blinked; his eyes were red, but he refused to shed any tears in front of her, though Jasmine couldn’t have cared any less if he did or not. If a man lost his wife, he damn well was allowed to cry.
“Six years ago, we decided it was time—the company ran better than we ever expected, we bought the mansion and knew exactly which rooms were going to be for the kids. It was all…”
When he didn’t finish, Jasmine automatically did it for him, “It was all perfect.” Her tone was pure sadness. Although she’d never gotten to know Cara, she sounded like a very kind, lovely person.
A curt nod was Cole’s answer. “The pregnancy was hard for her—swollen feet, the strangest cravings.” His gaze grew cloudy as if looking back in time. At last a tiny, heartbreaking smile tugged at his lips. “She ate the strangest stuff.” Almost grinning, he shook his head. But the expression of happiness quickly dimmed. “Despite all that, we were so happy and excited. I rubbed her hurting feet, we went to every doctor’s appointment together. Everything was fine,” he paused, “until it wasn’t.”
One terrible scenario after another raced through Jasmine’s head. What about the baby? A miscarriage? But how had Cara died? None of these scenarios could have prepared her for the terrible truth. “When the time came, I rushed her to the hospital—we were prepared, had a bag packed and all.” On his lap, his hands closed to fists. By now Jasmine wasn’t sure anymore if she wanted to hear the truth. She could see where the story was leading and it already broke her heart. Seeing this big guy, this strong, proud man so broken, she let silent tears run down her cheeks. Cole was staring at the floor while talking. She should have never demanded the truth. Now she understood how much it cost him to talk about it.
“She went into labor and almost broke my hand.” A humorless laugh left his lips, dying quickly. “One minute everything was okay but then she began bleeding.…They said something had ripped…the baby was stuck. Every fucking thing that could have gone wrong did!” In a mixture of soul-deep pain and anger at this unfair fate, he shouted out the words, making Jasmine jump to the other end of the room.
“I wasn’t allowed to stay with her and she fucking died there—alone.” In his ire, his whole body had begun to shake.
By now Jasmine was crying, not only shedding tears but silently sobbing. In order not to interrupt him, she’d pressed a hand against her lips. Seeing him this frantic and hearing about Cara made her feel like someone had stabbed her right in the heart. Gripping the dresser with both hands now, she tried to keep herself from throwing herself at Cole and holding him tightly. Despite it all, it seemed like he needed to talk about it. Was it possible that he hadn’t done so only once in the past five years?
“What about the baby?” she whispered. Half of herself didn’t dare ask; the other half needed to know.
Finally Cole raised his gaze again. When he looked at her with the pain of the whole world in his eyes, she knew. A sob broke free. “No,” she breathed out. “No.” Not being able to keep herself away from him anymore, she rushed through the room and wrapped her whole body around him, legs crossed behind his back, arms closed tightly around his neck. She would never be able to imagine how it must feel like to walk into a hospital, full of anticipation and of happiness to go home with your wife and baby, only to leave that place as a widower. Just the thought gutted her.
Stroking his neck, Jasmine held him as tightly as she could. When his arms closed around her body, he almost crushed her, but hell if she cared. “We loved the little man so much,” he breathed against her shoulder, where his face was buried. His voice quivered. Little man? So that was why he’d reacted so strongly when she
’d called Chester by the same nickname. It had reminded him of his dead son. The son who’d died at birth, though he’d been completely perfect and healthy until then.
“What was his name?” Surely they had given him one; they’d already known his sex. His existence might have been short, but for nine months this little boy had been loved dearly by his parents.
“Liam. We named him after my father.” On her shoulder Jasmine could feel his tears; her own were still dropping from her eyes. She couldn’t imagine going through something like that and honestly wasn’t sure if she’d have been strong enough to live on. Rocking them, she silently prayed for some kind of peace for Cole, for anything that could give him comfort.
“It was you, wasn’t it? The mansion—there never were any vandalizing teens.” After a while of holding on to each other, Jasmine realized quite a few things.
“I never said there were; you just assumed.” Against her shoulder, he nodded his agreement. Remembering the imprints of fists in the walls and the force which was needed to destroy all of this heavy furniture, the ruined flooring…all that destruction. Once she’d been surprised how much fury these kids must have felt to do so much damage, but now it was crystal clear to her. The destruction but a glimpse of what had been going on inside of Cole after losing the love of his life and his son.
“When I got home from the hospital, I couldn’t keep it in anymore. It just exploded out of me.” In a soothing manner, Jasmine kept stroking his hair. His actions were more than understandable. “I couldn’t look at the happy photos anymore; they were mocking me from the walls with everything I had lost.” At her back, his hands fisted the material of her T-shirt. “Only when I reached his room, I couldn’t do it…I finally stopped.”
“The one room you didn’t show me during the tour of the house.” She remembered wondering why he wouldn’t open the last door. It was his house, his renovations, so it wasn’t her business and she hadn’t asked. To think that a nursery hid behind that door—it was heartbreaking.
Good Grief Page 11
