by Helen Brenna
Missy was pregnant with Jonas’s baby. Pregnant.
Oh, God. Elation warred with fear. She wanted this baby, almost as much as she wanted Jonas, but what if she miscarried again? What if her body couldn’t make a child? The first miscarriage had been bad enough, knowing her marriage was failing and, yet, believing that a baby would pull them back together. When those dreams were shattered by the miscarriage, she’d lost all hope for her and Jonas. How could she go through that again? Losing both Jonas and their baby?
“I have to make sure.” Missy closed herself in the bathroom again and went through another test. Pregnant again. She opened the door.
“What are you going to do?” Sarah whispered, her face displaying every possible emotion.
Missy smiled and held back tears. “I didn’t plan this, but I want this baby. More than you can know.”
“Are you going to tell him?”
“I don’t know.”
T HAT AFTERNOON WORKING at Whimsy dragged by in a haze for Missy, despite the fact that business had been so brisk she’d barely left the cash register. More than once, she’d thought to take the last few hours off so that she could go home and confront Jonas, but she couldn’t leave Gaia and Lauren alone that long. Besides, she had no clue what she’d say to him. By the time Gaia left and she closed her shop, she was a mass of nerves, but she knew what she had to do.
Pregnant or not, she wanted her marriage with Jonas to work. As far as she was concerned, divorce was no longer an option. Pulling out the divorce decree Jonas and she had both signed, she ripped it up. Piece by piece, she tossed it into the shredder.
This meant she was going to have to tell Jonas about the baby. Eventually. What if she lost this baby, too? Then what?
Snapping open her cell phone, she dialed, jiggling her legs impatiently while waiting for the answering machine to finish. “Sean,” she said. “I need a favor.”
Half an hour later, Missy nervously waited in his private office, Sean having opened the medical clinic just for her. She was pacing back and forth in front of his window when the door opened and Sean stepped inside.
“Well.” He held her gaze. “You’re definitely pregnant.”
She covered her mouth. “You’re sure?”
“As sure as any doctor can be.”
“Would you be able to hear a heartbeat?”
“It’s too early for that, Missy.” He shook his head. “That’s normal. There’s nothing to worry about.”
“I had a miscarriage several years ago,” she explained, wrapping her arms around herself. “I never did hear a heartbeat.”
“I’m sorry.” Then he went through all the statistics that she’d heard a million times over about how often miscarriages happen. “First pregnancies are the most common to miscarry. Just because you lost the first one, doesn’t mean you will the second.”
“Is there any way for you to know…”
“All that I can tell you is that based on the tests your hormone levels are very strong. That’s a good sign.” He took her hand and drew her down the hallway. “Come on. I’ll take you home.”
They went outside and walked in companionable silence for several blocks. “Are you going to tell Jonas?” Sean asked.
She hesitated. “Not yet.” He’d said a baby would’ve changed things for him, but only because of the added responsibility.
“Missy—”
“A baby won’t change anything for him. Not really.” Only create, in his mind, a responsibility to stay. “If he stays, I want him to stay for the right reasons.”
“Are you sure he’s leaving?”
“Yes. Absolutely. As soon as he figures out this case he’s been working on, my life may very well go on as before.”
“You think?”
She looked away. No. Nothing would be as it was before. They reached her house and stopped on the sidewalk.
“You know I’ll be there for you, right?” Sean said. “No matter what happens with Jonas.” Before she could say anything, Sean cupped her face and gave her a soft, incredibly sweet kiss. His touch did not cause a wave, let alone a ripple, of awareness inside her.
He pulled back and smiled. “I should’ve known,” he whispered. “But I had to try.”
She reached up and touched his cheek. “I’m sorry, Sean.” She might be confused about a lot of things and still trying to completely figure out who she was inside. But there was something she was becoming more and more sure about with each passing moment. She would always be Jonas’s wife. He would always be her husband.
“Well, for what it’s worth, Missy, you helped me feel at least something again. It’s been a very long time.”
She touched his arm. “I don’t want to lose you as a friend.”
“That’s not going to happen.”
“If you ever want to talk…”
“I’ll probably have to go through Jonas to get to you.”
J ONAS SAT IN THE SHADOWS on the porch and watched the doctor take Missy’s hand. He caressed her knuckles with his thumb. Jonas felt every single touch like a punch to his gut, and still he couldn’t look away.
He didn’t have to hear a single word of what they were saying to one another to know what was passing between them. The tender smiles. The way they leaned toward each other. The way they looked into each other’s eyes. Then it happened. That man held Missy’s face in his hands and kissed her. Slowly. Gently. Sweetly.
Rage, the likes of which Jonas had never known, surged through him. It was all he could do to breathe. What did Missy think she was doing kissing another man? Who did that doctor think he was to kiss another man’s wife?
Wife.
And who the hell was Jonas trying to kid?
He looked away as the anger he felt turned inward. He’d left his wife high and dry. He had no rights to her body, soul or future. She could do as she pleased, and apparently Sean Griffin pleased her. Not Jonas.
He stood and forced himself to watch the intimate exchange between Missy and Sean as they stood on the boardwalk, moonlight shining down on them. So that’s what she wanted? Tenderness? Jonas didn’t have a gentle bone in his body. He no longer knew how to be soft, kind, forgiving.
It was time he admitted that he’d been less than a stellar husband. She’d married him, loved him, given herself to him in the only way Missy knew how to give, completely and with total abandon. All she’d wanted in return was for him to love her back, to be there. He hadn’t been. At least not enough. He’d put work above Missy, day in and day out. He’d taken from her too much, never given enough of himself.
With one last smile for Missy, the doctor turned and walked down the sidewalk. Missy watched him for a moment before coming up the path toward the house. Her sandaled foot hit the porch and, as if sensing his presence, she turned.
“Jonas. Why are you sitting out here?”
“Waiting for you,” he whispered, his voice suddenly raspy.
“I was just…” She trailed off.
“You don’t owe me an explanation.” He walked toward her.
“No. I don’t.”
He stopped before her and looked into her beautiful green eyes, wanted with everything in him to reach out and caress her face, but he didn’t have a right. Not now.
It hadn’t been Missy’s expectations that had driven him on. It’d been the ones he’d set for himself that had done the most damage. Whether it had been his pride spurring him on in his career, or his pain in believing he would never be enough for her, it hadn’t mattered. The results had been the same. He’d broken Missy’s heart. This time, he was going to make his leaving easy on her.
“I’m sorry, Missy.” He looked straight into her eyes. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you. I’m sorry I didn’t do a very good job of showing you how much you meant to me. Sorry for all the pain I’ve caused you. During our marriage. Faking my death. And now. Bringing it all back. Truly. I am sorry.”
She stared at him, her mouth slack, very likely in shock. When
had he ever apologized to her and meant it?
“I don’t understand. Why are you doing this now?”
He stepped back out of reach so that he wouldn’t try to touch her. “Because you asked for more from me and I never gave it to you. Because I never shared in the blame in things going wrong between us. You deserve someone like your doctor. Someone who can give you more.” He slipped past her toward the steps. “It’s time for me to move on.” Now, for her sake, he had to leave. “You deserve better than me, Miss.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
DUMBFOUNDED, MISSY WATCHED Jonas walk away. His head bent in concentration, he charged quickly down the hill and was out of sight in no time. Presumably, he’d been sitting on the porch and had seen Sean kiss her. So why the apology? Why not an angry, jealous outbreak?
Confused and feeling more than a little raw, she walked into her house. Too tired to think, she readied for bed before climbing between the cool sheets. Unfortunately, sleep failed her. Could it be that Jonas finally and truly was taking responsibility for his part in their failed marriage? Then why was he walking away?
More than an hour later, still awake, she heard him at the front door. Quietly, he went upstairs.
Let it be. Let him leave. Let him go.
She couldn’t. Already, her heart was breaking just imagining what it would be like to go through each day without him. Missy climbed out of bed and tiptoed to his room. Dressed only in boxers, he was waiting for her at his bedroom door, his gun drawn. “I heard movement,” he explained.
Always, always working.
“I didn’t know it was you,” he said softly, putting the gun down.
“I couldn’t sleep.”
His gaze wandered for a moment over her silky camisole before snapping back to her face. The furrow on his brow intensified. “Go back to your own bed, Missy.”
“What if I don’t want to?” She stepped forward, reached toward him. “What if I—”
“Don’t.” He grabbed her wrist and held her away from him. “Don’t ruin what you’ve got going with Sean. Not for me. I’m not worth it.”
“See that’s the thing. There’s nothing going on between me and Sean. Never has been. Never will be.”
Assessing what she said, he studied her.
“We thought about it, I suppose,” she explained. “Both of us. From the beginning. Before you came to Mirabelle. There’s nothing between us, but friendship. He and I both know that.”
“He kissed you.”
“He wanted to know if there could be anything. There isn’t. What you saw was a goodbye of sorts. We’re friends. That’s all.”
She pulled one of her hands out of his grasp and touched his cheek, making him look at her. “After I thought you’d died, my life was never the same. I realized what I’d lost. I regretted more than you can imagine not finding some way to make things work between us. Because I knew I’d never find that kind of love again.”
“We had some fun, didn’t we?” he said. “But what we had wasn’t enough.”
“Things are different today, Jonas.”
“You have a chance to move on. Without being a widow. Take it.”
“There won’t be any moving on for me. Ever. Because I still love my husband.”
“Missy.” He looked away. “You don’t know what you’re saying—”
“I do.” She pressed her hands flat against his hard chest. “I know what I’m saying. I know what I’m doing. I know what I want.”
“You’re too good, Miss. Too whole. Too free and forgiving. Too rich. Too smart. Too everything. And me? I haven’t changed. It didn’t work before. It’s not going to work now.”
“Put me first more often than not. Love me. That’s all you have to do.”
“I’m not sure I’m capable of giving you what you need, Missy. What you deserve. Even if I could figure it out, it’s still…I can’t…it’s the job…you know what it’s like. I—”
“There’s never been any other man for me, Jonas. There never will be.”
“Then you’re a fool.”
“Am I?” She wrapped her hands around his neck and kissed him. “A fool for wanting this?” she murmured against his lips.
He closed his eyes and groaned. “Don’t.”
When she kissed him again, his mouth opened to her. He’d proven that she belonged to him. Tonight she was going to turn the tables. Before this night was over, he was going to know in no uncertain terms that he belonged to her.
She pushed him back onto the bed and pulled off his boxers. His erection pulsed into the air. When she slowly, deliberately drew her camisole over her head, he looked away, clearly trying to maintain control.
“This isn’t going to solve anything.”
“I don’t care. I want this. I want you.” She stepped out of her silky bottoms and climbed over him, straddling him. His erection pressed against her flesh and she moved back and forth, caressing him.
Right then and there, she wanted nothing more than to take him inside, but rather than controlling, this was about surrendering, accepting the inevitable. She wanted him to know what he’d be giving up if he chose to leave her again.
She covered his mouth with a kiss so deep and slow that when he groaned again, the sound vibrated through her. She kneaded his chest, kissed his neck, his shoulder, his flat, muscled abdomen, and then held his penis and took him into her mouth.
He sucked in a breath and pressed his hands flat against the mattress, refusing to touch her. “Don’t,” he breathed. “Don’t do this.”
Over and over, she gripped him, loved him, gave to him. Soon, his entire body was shaking and his control broke. He bracketed her face with his hands and pushed her away from him. Looking into his eyes, she climbed higher and poised herself over his erection, daring him to roll away from her.
Slowly, she pressed down and took him inside.
“Missy.” He pulsed against her. “Obviously, I’m the one who could never say no to you.” Then, giving in to the inevitable, he trailed his fingers along her throat and cupped her breasts.
The breath rushed out of her as he squeezed both nipples. “I love you,” she whispered, rocking against him.
In one swift and smooth movement, he gripped her shoulders and rolled them over. She was under him, her legs spread, rejoicing in the feel of his weight on her, moving against her.
He lifted her hands above her head and ran his palms along the underside of her arms, stopping at each of her seven tattoos. Then he buried his face in her hair, kissed her neck, bit her earlobe.
“Smelling you has always been like opening the door and coming home,” he said softly, trailing kisses down her neck. He moved across her collarbone, along her chest and finally took her nipple into his warm mouth. “Tasting you somehow eases every hunger I’ve ever known.”
“Oh…Jonas,” she said, groaning and cupping his tight, muscular backside.
Then he grabbed her hands, entwined his fingers with hers, held her down and looked into her eyes as he entered and retreated over and over. This time was everything the sex they’d shared weeks ago hadn’t been, and it was clear that the intimacy they’d experienced so many years ago was stronger than ever.
She pulsed with him, moved instinctively. He felt the same, but different. Bigger, stronger, but more gentle. At once infinitely better and yet comfortably familiar.
“Not a day went by these past years without me thinking of you, Missy, wanting you, wishing things had been different.”
“Things can be different.” She looked into his eyes and rose to meet him with every thrust. “Stay with me. Don’t ever leave me again.”
For the moment she let herself believe it was possible, let herself hope they might have a future together. A future as loving parents to this baby inside her. The moment was only her and Jonas, joined together, loving one another as if tomorrow might never come. As if they could both stay lost on Mirabelle for the rest of their lives.
She clenched his hands and ar
ched to meet him one last time before her body let go in the most cataclysmic release she’d ever known. He came inside her only seconds later, and the world and all its troubles dissolved between them. They were only a husband and wife loving one another in the best way they knew how.
T HE DISTANT , CLEAR SOUND of a loon’s lonely cry came through the window on a cool breeze. Jonas lay awake in bed facing Missy with only a sheet covering them.
Whether she was awake or not was debatable. Though a contented smile graced her lips, her eyelids had grown heavy. Suddenly, she stretched, throwing her arm above her head.
He brushed each one of the Sanskrit letters tattooed on the underside of her arm with his fingertips. “You don’t need chakras symbols to ground you, you know. You’re doing just fine all on your own.”
“That’s what I thought until you showed up on my doorstep.”
“I’m sorry, Missy.”
“Don’t be. The more the dust settles, the more I realize you coming back into my life was the best thing that could’ve ever happened to me.”
“Or you’ve gotten good at lying to yourself.”
“Jonas. You’re a good man. You were a good husband. Things fell apart between us simply because we met before we were both ready. Fate wasn’t wrong. Our timing was off.”
“That’s what you think?”
“That’s what I know.”
“And now?”
“Now is our time. The right time.” She curled into him and kissed his chest. “I don’t want you to leave.”
He’d be no better a husband today than he’d been all those years ago, but suddenly, on the verge of losing her again, he wondered what it would be like to build a family, a life with Missy here on Mirabelle. In the end, though, he knew he couldn’t be what she needed.
“I’ve pressed my luck long enough,” he said, accepting the inevitable. “I need to leave here before I put anyone in danger. Stein’s got to be brought down. The only way that’s going to happen is for me to face the music. I have to go to D.C., Miss.”
“Not tomorrow. Stay one more day?”
For what? One more day would only make what he had to do all the more difficult. “It won’t change anything. I still have to go.”
