Something Borrowed (New Castle Book 3)

by Lydia Michaels

  She hated his control, but that should have died with him. Was it a force of habit? Because he was gone and she was here, yet she was still letting him control her from the grave.

  She bolted up from her chair and scowled. She needed to do something. She needed to do something right now. Something that proved she was in control.

  Storming out of her office, she marched down the stairs and into the gym. Trenton was sorting equipment and looked up as she entered. “Hey, beautiful. You all right?”

  The walls were covered with padding. Different kinds of punching bags hung suspended from the ceiling, and the floors sported a glossy new finish.

  “No, I’m not all right. This whole time Marcus has been dead and I didn’t realize he was really dead until about two minutes ago.”

  He raised a brow. “Come again?”

  She huffed and shook her head. “I’ve given him control from the grave. I knew he was dead. I saw him draw his last breath. Nathan faxed me a copy of the death certificate, I got his money, and I sold his possessions. But it never clicked. And now that all these light bulbs are flashing like crazy in my head, I feel like a fool standing in a blinding spotlight.”

  He grinned and shoved the box aside. Crossing the mats he wrapped his arms around her and pressed his lips into her hair. She tensed, but he held her loosely and waited for the tension in her shoulders to ease. She was too enraged by her stupidity to worry about their proximity.

  “You’re not a fool. You spent six years hiding from an invisible man, a man you never saw, yet existed enough for you to always fear him. Just because you couldn’t see him didn’t make him any less real or dangerous. It makes sense that you would continue thinking along the same lines. You didn’t see him before. You don’t see him now. But this time he’s never coming back. Ever.”

  The therapist inside of her recognized this for the breakthrough it was. And Trenton had predicted something like this when they had their first “business” dinner not long ago. Someone should be paying him.

  “I’m so angry at myself for wasting so much time. When I was there, I thought I’d never escape. And here I am, free to do whatever I please, and I’m not even living!”

  “Sure you are, doll.”

  “No, not the way I want. I’m still letting him control parts of my life.”

  “You’ll get there. Here.” He turned her to one of the bigger bags hanging from the ceiling. “Give me your rings.”

  “Trenton, I told you this isn’t my thing.”

  “Have you ever tried it?”

  “No.”

  “Then give me your rings.”

  She hesitantly removed her jewelry, certain this would hurt more than it would heal. He slipped them into his pocket and adjusted her shoulders.

  “Punch the bag. It’s the second best way to relieve tension.”

  “What’s the first?”

  “Sex.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Walked right into that one.”

  He chuckled, adjusting her arms so her hands were in front of her chest. Chills raced down her spine, but she focused on the target, hoping this might relieve some of her tension.

  “Okay. Now make a fist. No, no. Put your thumbs on the outside so you don’t hurt yourself.” His warm breath tickled the back of her neck. “Now, spread your feet apart and sway with me, but keep your hands up.”

  His loose grip rested on her hips and she shut her eyes, bracing for panic that never came.

  “Keep yourself relaxed. Don’t tighten up.” They continued to sway in a slow bobbing glide, back and forth, back and forth. “Doll, you can’t aim if your eyes are shut.”

  “Oh, sorry.”

  Her breath sucked in as he pressed a kiss to her neck. “That’s okay.” He held her forearm. “You’re going to aim for the center of the bag so you don’t lose your balance. Just like this.” He extended her arm, touching her knuckles to the bag just above eye level.

  “I’ve never hit anyone before. Well, except…”

  “Shh, you’re not hitting someone. You’re hitting a bag of sand. Don’t worry, it doesn’t have feelings.” He stepped back. “Go ahead. Give it a try.”

  Straightening her shoulders, she punched. The bag didn’t move. She took a deep breath and swung again, this time hitting a little harder.

  “Good. Keep swinging until you find your rhythm.”

  She really wasn’t good at this. She hit the bag, but it didn’t make a loud noise like when guys landed a punch. After a few minutes, she lowered her arms and faced him.

  He smiled expectantly. “Well, what do you think?”

  “I think sex is more fun.”

  Shock lit his eyes and a smile broke over his face. His laughter filled her belly with a sort of liquid heat she hadn’t felt in months. His lashes lowered over his dark blue eyes as he gradually approached, gentle fingers carefully brushing a hair away from her face.

  “I concur.”

  Her breath caught as she stared up at him, uncertainty and courage melding into determination. He was going to kiss her and she wasn’t going to stop him. She was ready. She wanted his lips on her.

  Her lashes lowered as he tipped his head to the side, angling closer by small degrees. His warm breath skated over her mouth as the last inch separated them. She shut her eyes…

  “Chloe?” The sound of Jennifer’s voice had her eyes springing open. “Your one o’clock is waiting.”

  “Thank you, Jennifer.” Chloe touched her burning cheeks and walked out of the gym without looking back. “We were just inspecting the new gym equipment.”

  Jennifer smiled and muttered, “Let me know when it’s time to check the mats. I’ll lock the door for you.”

  Trenton’s laughter echoed.

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Over the past week, Chloe had been reading the worn copy of Tristan and Isolde Trenton left outside of her office. She was surprised Trenton owned such a novel, especially when she fanned through the pages and saw he not only read the classic but highlighted his favorite parts. The first highlight she read reminded her immediately of the first time she met him.

  “What is your name?”

  “Oh, I think it’s better if we don’t bother with names.”

  Though he had never asked her name when they first met, she could easily envision a better, more sophisticated version of herself giving such a response. Sometimes her fantasies let her be the woman she wished she were, rather than her actual self. They were, after all, her fantasies. So when she pictured Tristan and Isolde she soon found herself imagining herself and Trenton.

  She was totally engrossed in the love story, which began with a journey. The hero escorted the heroine while facing a silent struggle. Should he honor his promise to the king and return his betrothed to Cornwall, or do what he believed was right for Isolde? Her heart broke a little when Isolde married the king, knowing her heart would always belong to Tristan.

  “I’ll pretend it’s you,” Isolde sobbed.

  “Come with me,” Tristan had pleaded.

  “I can’t. Please go!”

  It was unmistakably familiar, her mind returning that horrible day Trenton begged her to leave with him and she had no choice but to stay. She identified with every word of love and anguish. She ached for the couple and found their time apart tragic.

  It was a beautiful story that she was glad to have read. It made her think of wasted time and the fleeting moments they had here on earth, emphasizing how important it was not to waste a single one.

  On the last page, Trenton had scribbled his own words, one final surprise before she closed the book.

  Love is not told, but shown.

  What you don’t whisper in my ears, you breathe into my heart and soul.

  I love you, Chloe. Only you. None before and there will be no one after.

  You are, forever, my heart.

  Reading this book somehow took her back to the beginning, reminded her of moments she’d almost forgotten. Was that why he g
ave it to her, so she wouldn’t forget where their journey began? How could she ever forget when his name played like a caress upon her heart? Their relationship was so long, it was impossible to recall the exact moment she fell in love with him, but he’d lived in her heart since the day he delivered her safely to her boys. He was her hero, her fantasy, and her survival.

  Holding the book to her chest, she sighed. She fanned through the pages, brushing her fingers over his note and reading it again.

  Love is not told, but shown.

  What you don’t whisper in my ears…

  Her smile fell and her mind stilled. Her eyes retraced his words as a horrible thought suddenly occurred to her.

  She flipped through the pages, stopping at each highlighted section where he’d scrolled a quick I love you in the margin.

  “Oh, God…” She lowered the book to her lap and stared wide-eyed at her bedroom door. “Oh, God!”

  Her brow pinched as their interactions spun through her mind like a carousel, playing back and slowing at every smile. His sweet, unforgettable words whispering softly…

  “I love you, Chloe. I’d never hurt you.”

  “I love you, baby.”

  “I can’t think. I can’t sleep. I love you.”

  “Who gives a shit why? I love you. I love you blonde, auburn, or gray.”

  “That’s how much I love you… If I can get your mind and your heart, the other parts are just a bonus.”

  “I love you, Chloe. Only you. None before and there will be no one after.”

  Her hand went to her tight brow, massaging the creases of worry. “What’s wrong with me?”

  She must have told him. In all this time, everything he’d done for her, everything he made her feel… But as her mind scrambled, she couldn’t place one memory where those words had come from her.

  “Oh, my God!”

  Reaching for her phone she quickly texted Tommy to come over right away and bolted out of bed.

  “Shoes. I need shoes.”

  “Chloe?” Tommy came racing into the bedroom and she raced past him into the den, shoving her feet into her sneakers.

  “Can you watch the kids? I have to go.”

  “Where? What the hell's going on?”

  “To Trenton’s. I have to go tell him I love him!” She fisted her car keys and flung her purse over her arm.

  “Finally!”

  She grabbed the knob and stilled, confused. Turning back to him she said, “Wait. What do you mean finally?”

  “Honey, we all know you haven’t told him you love him. Poor poodle’s been suffering for months. The torture has to end. Go! Go!”

  She was the worst girlfriend ever. “But I do love him.”

  “Well, duh. We all know he’s owned your heart for years. But he doesn’t. Please, go tell him how you feel.”

  She swung open the door. “I’m going! Lock up behind me.”

  It took her twenty minutes to get to Neshannock and another ten to get to Trenton’s property. She bounced in her seat as her little car barreled down the gravel drive and skidded to a stop only inches from the back of his truck.

  “Please be awake.”

  The sensor lights kicked on and he stepped outside in a pair of jeans and nothing else. She scrambled out of her car and froze, struck dumb by the magnificent sight of him.

  “Chloe? What’s wrong?”

  “I’m an idiot,” she yelled.

  He scanned the yard and scowled. “What happened? Why are you here?”

  Realizing she was worrying him, she quickly reassured, “I’m fine. Everything is fine.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  She took a deep breath that shook her insides. Moving to the front of her car, she faced him, the length of his truck separating them. “I love you, Trenton. Please tell me you know that.”

  His expression blanked and his head lowered, his hands pushing into his pockets. That wasn’t the response she’d been expecting.

  “Trenton?”

  * * * *

  Trenton’s heart lost its rhythm at the sound of her words and he needed a second to compose himself.

  “Trenton?”

  Breathing what felt like the first breath of the rest of his life, he smiled and lifted his head. She was beautifully undone, standing at his door in her mismatched clothes with those little ankle socks peeking out from her shoes.

  “Say it again.”

  She took a small step forward. “I love you.”

  His heart punched inside his chest as he crossed the distance and pulled her into his arms. His face went to her shoulder, breathing her in. “I’ve waited an eternity to hear you say that.”

  Her fingers tunneled through his hair, turning his face so that he looked into her eyes. “I feel like I’ve loved you for an eternity.”

  His body shook as he studied her. The sincerity rested in those wide brown eyes. Her smile wobbled as she slowly brought her face closer to his, the innocent curiosity in her gaze tightening him in knots.

  “Kiss me, Trenton.”

  He lifted her to him, closing the remaining distance and sealed his lips to hers. Her arms tightened around his neck as he tasted heaven. Her surrender was the most real sensation he’d ever known. She kissed him in a way that could only be love. She kissed him with passion and trust. She kissed him with promise.

  “Chloe…” Her name whispered from his lips as he trailed them over her jaw to her rapid pulse. She blinked up at him, a calmness settling over him, centering him.

  Her smile was fragile. “You don’t have to wait anymore.”

  He drew back. “W—what does that mean?”

  In the silver moonlight, her blush gave her an angelic glow. An adorable smile tied her full lips into a bow as she looked into his eyes. “I don’t want to wait anymore. I want our future to start now.”

  “Does this mean…?”

  “Yes. You’re the only man I’ve ever wanted, Trenton Cole. Before you there was none and there will be no one after. Will you please make love to me?”

  “You’re sure?”

  “I’ve never been more certain of anything in my life.”

  His mouth crashed to hers as her legs locked around his hips, lifting her higher as he pivoted toward the house. “God, I fucking love you.”

  He didn’t put her down until he reached his bed. The sense of relief, of indescribable euphoria tunneling through him was so immense he battled to keep his emotions in check.

  “Chloe,” he whispered, peppering kisses along her neck and nibbling her ear.

  His lips teased her throat and her pulse jumped under the swipe of his tongue. She arched into him. A whirlwind of passion tunneled through him and he reminded himself to take it slow. Her needy hands groped him, and he edged back.

  “Easy…”

  “It’s okay,” she rasped, her breasts lifting with each panted breath. “I’m okay. When I’m with you, I’m always okay.”

  He’d never let himself imagine the moment they’d actually be together again. He wanted to, but he’d also meant what he’d said. He only needed her mind and her heart to survive. Anything more would just be a bonus. “I can’t believe you’re actually here.”

  She cupped his face, staring into his eyes. “Thank you for waiting for me, for being so patient…”

  He shut his eyes, a thousand emotions rushing to the surface. “Do you want to take the lead?” The fears she mentioned weren’t ungrounded and he wanted to do this right.

  Her fingers traced along the scar on his jaw and she smiled. “I trust you, Trenton. No matter what, I know I’m always safe in your arms.”

  His heart pinched at the sincerity in her voice, felt the truth of that trust. His mouth lowered to hers and she came alive in his arms. Every kiss was a missed opportunity coming back to them, a priceless secret the two of them shared.

  Their clothes fell away as their hands became reacquainted with each other’s body. Every caress radiated to his soul.

  When s
he kissed the quivering muscles of his stomach, working her way lower, he felt as though he was being touched this way for the first time. Anyone who came before no longer mattered. And there would be no one after. She’d come back to him and they were finally here.

  He sucked in a sharp breath as her mouth closed over him. His hands were gentle as he watched her, his need to touch her enough to pull her to his chest and roll her to her back.

  “I want a turn.”

  Careful not to overwhelm her, he kept his weight off of her as he took her nipple into his mouth. He teased her slowly, licking, kissing, pinching, and sucking. Her breathing turned shallow as her legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer. The brush of her wet folds along his cock had him trembling with anticipation.

  He shimmied down her body, stopping to lick the sensitive curve of her hip. He traced the soft seam of her thigh, not lifting his tongue until he trailed it across her clit. His cock grew unbearably thick as he tasted her. Holding her thighs, pressing his face between her legs, he savored every sweet moan he brought to her lips.

  She cried out his name, her fingers pulling in his hair as her body trembled in release. He reached for the drawer and she stilled him. Sharp concern stabbed through the haze of lust as he looked into her eyes.

  “What is it, doll?”

  Her smile was gentle, her gaze pulling him back. “Nothing between us this time,” she whispered, lacing her fingers with his. “But I do have one request.”

  “Anything.”

  “I want to face you.”

  Understanding why she needed to face him this first time, his face gentled and he cupped her cheek, softly kissing her lips. “See my eyes, Chloe.”

  She nodded.

  “They won’t look away from yours.” He eased her back, his gaze locking with hers as her body opened to him. Her chin trembled as he lined up their bodies. He was gentle, holding eye contact as he waited for her to give him a sign that she was ready.