by Sara Arden
He was now sure this was hell. It felt so good, it had to be a sin. Or that’s how it would feel later when he thought about it. She needed comfort and this was how she got it from him. Oblivion in sensation, in pleasure. She was drowning out the rest of the world and using him to do it.
At one time, Reed would’ve been glad to be that for her, but he didn’t want to be a coping mechanism—even if it felt this good.
But even as he had these thoughts, he was filling his hands with her breasts, tasting her skin, flicking his tongue over her nipples, pulling off her panties...
“Can we try it this way?” she asked, breathless. “It was so good when we were kissing and—” Her eyes widened as she eased down on him. “I’m so full, I feel like I’m dying and being born at the same time.”
It was hard not to lose himself in a woman who said those kind of things. Made him forget about his other needs and thought only about his hard cock buried deep inside of her.
He grasped her hips and rolled her forward, firm and slow, so that she felt every inch of him.
She splayed her palms on his chest, gasping. “I want to feel this forever. I never want it to stop.”
Gina moved against him, following his lead. She leaned down, her breath warm on his lips. “I’m tender, but this is good. It hurts, and I like it. Because I know it’s real.” She kissed him and he ravaged her mouth, tasting all she had to offer him.
His hands roved over her body, mapping and memorizing her every curve. He took control of the encounter, drawing them both up so that he leaned back against the headboard and he cupped the globes of her bottom to guide her motion.
He moved her at his pleasure, taking what he wanted from her because he’d already given all he had to give. She seemed to want him to take, to bend her to his desire, and he was done denying himself.
She braced herself on his shoulders and followed the rhythm he’d set that pushed them both ever closer to culmination. She clawed at his back again, and found that like her, he liked that bit of an edge.
For the same reason: because it made it real.
He thrust up into her while using her hips to pull her down to meet his motion and when her sheath walls shuddered around him, squeezing and pulling him ever deeper while she gasped and came undone in his arms, he let the orgasm take him.
They rode the last waves of their passion together and when the storm had passed, she leaned her forehead against his. “I never knew anything could feel like this.”
She slid off of him, but settled against his shoulder with a contented sigh.
“Me, either.” He could feel her eyes on him.
“Really?”
“Yeah, really.” He didn’t have the numbers that Gray did, but he’d been around enough that he knew that all women had the same parts, and that no matter how they got to that end place, the result was usually the same.
Except with Gina. It was a hundred times more intense.
She burrowed against him. “You’ll stay tonight?”
“Yeah. I’ll stay.”
“I want to build a blanket fort, eat cookies, have us make love in the fort and never come out.”
She was hiding again, but this time, he’d let her. “That’s going to be a filthy blanket fort.” He allowed his mind to entertain just exactly what all of that would entail and he found he could be quite content in a blanket fort with Gina and cookies.
“I know. And I don’t care. We’re going to stay there.”
“Are we now? What happens when we run out of cookies?” he teased. Reed needed to lighten the tone. He wasn’t ready to admit the intensity of what he felt for her.
“I guess someone will have to venture out for more.” She burrowed some more. “Or I guess we’ll just have to talk about this.”
“Yeah. We should.” Damn it. She was right, but hiding from it didn’t make it go away.
“I knew you were going to say that.” She sagged.
“Is it so horrible?” He’d asked a question he didn’t really want an answer to.
“No. I’m just afraid. I have feelings for you, Reed.” Her confession made it sound as if it was the worst thing that could’ve happened.
“I should hope so.” He pushed a lock of hair behind her ear. At least there was that, he wasn’t alone in this. That would’ve made it so much more awful.
“But I keep thinking, what if this doesn’t work? We’re still going to have to be together under the same roof for the next twelve years.”
“Yes,” he agreed. Reed tried to imagine having her, losing her, but still being so close, still living under the same roof. It would be agony. It was best to slice this open now, to tear out all of those things that wound them up together.
“And I make up my mind that we’re not going to do this again, that we shouldn’t, and then I can’t stop touching you. I have no self-control.”
Neither did he, because the thought of severing those ties to her made him feel a loneliness like nothing he’d ever felt before. A kind of grief. “Do you want to stop?”
“No.” She sighed. “Yes. I don’t know.”
He steeled himself. “What do you want? Not what should you want. But what do you really want?”
“The answer to that, Reed, has always been you.”
“Then m—” He cut himself off before he could blurt the words that were on the tip of his tongue. They were not the right words, they were not the right time.
He’d been about to tell her she should just make their marriage real, but that was insane. He didn’t know if he was ready for that kind of commitment. His stupid tongue needed to start obeying him. They were doing everything wrong. He wasn’t going to get that wrong, too.
Because what if she said yes? What if they tied themselves to each other and it all crashed and burned?
“What?” She looked up at him.
He thought again how beautiful she was. “Nothing that can’t wait.” For as much as he had all of these feelings that burned hot and bright, a true marriage was a giant step that neither of them were ready for. They’d only had one date.
“So that’s what you have to say to my confession?”
“What confession? That you want me? You just had me,” he teased. “But you’ve always got me.”
“Always?”
“Yeah, always.” He had a feeling that his idea of always might end up being longer than hers. She wanted him now, now that things were fresh and he was whole. But what about when he wasn’t? What about when he wasn’t the savior, when he was just the guy she knew in the trailer park all those years ago?
It seemed as though Gina had her own doubts and while he didn’t want her to be upset, it comforted him that he wasn’t the only one who felt as if he was set adrift. “Whatever we build here is ours and no one can take it from us, but us.”
“I wish I could believe that.”
“I wish you could, too.”
She didn’t speak any more after that and it wasn’t long before her breathing became deep and even.
This time, it was he who untangled himself from her in the early hours of dawn. He needed to work, to think about the things he knew he could do right. He may not have known how to be a father, a partner or even a lover. But he did know how to make money. So Reed was going to work and think about what he knew, because numbers and percentages made sense in a way that feeling and emotion never did.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
WHEN GINA WOKE UP, he was gone, but it was just as well. She wouldn’t have known what to say to him. She’d meant to fix things, meant to put their relationship back behind that line they’d crossed and retreat to a place that made sense.
She meant to put herself back in that place, too.
How was he supposed to know what she wanted from him if
she kept changing the rules? She hated that she dragged him closer with one hand and pushed him away with the other. She didn’t understand why he put up with it or why she kept doing it.
Aside from the fact she was playing house. That’s all this could be. She was caught up in the rush, dressing up in her sister’s clothes, but pretending to do it better.
Her phone rang and she saw it was Rob Ness, a doctor she’d worked with as an EMT. Part of her wanted to believe he was just calling to see how she was, but there was that knot of dread in her stomach. The one that told her something was wrong. Something bad had happened.
She debated not answering the phone. She didn’t want to know.
But not knowing didn’t change anything.
Gina answered the phone. “Hey, Rob.”
“I can tell from your voice that you know something’s wrong. So I’m just going to tell you. Your grandmother’s been brought into County.”
She gasped as the sound of her world imploding echoed in her ears.
“She’s responsive. She’s just had a fall, but you should come.”
“I’ll be there. Thanks for calling.” Terror knifed her gut. Even though the doctor said she was fine, she knew that with falls in elderly patients, sometimes complications waited a long time to manifest. She couldn’t lose Grams. Not now. Not ever, she’d wished, but she knew it was inevitable.
She dressed quickly and got Amanda Jane ready to go. She didn’t even stop to think about Reed. Not until Amanda Jane asked, “Can Daddy come, too?”
“Daddy has to work. Daddy doesn’t need to come. Grammie had a fall so we’re going to go see her, okay?”
“Like when I fall?”
“Sort of. Put your shoes on, okay?” Gina tried to keep her voice calm. Rob said she was responsive, that was a good thing.
She drove directly to County and headed straight to the ER, forcing herself to stay calm, to stay focused.
Rob met her at the door. “Look, nothing’s broken. We’ll probably keep her overnight for observation. But you know how hard chemo can be on bones. Makes them brittle. I want to make sure we don’t miss anything.”
“Chemo? What are you talking about?” He had to have the wrong chart. Her grandmother wasn’t on chemo. “No, no. It was my mother who—”
The look of pity on his face cut her off. “She didn’t tell you.”
“Oh, my God.” Fear and panic slammed into her all over again, but this time it was rancid and dark—it threatened to drown her. The small hand in hers kept her sane. Kept her from coming apart at the seams. “What are we looking at?”
“She’s in recovery, Gina. It looks good. It looks really good. But you might want to think about getting tested. She had BRCA-1. The genetic marker for hereditary breast cancer. You should get everyone tested.” He looked down at Amanda Jane. “And you should talk to your grandmother.”
“I... Test us now. Can you do that? Right now?” She had to know. The possibility that Amanda Jane might face this same future was too horrible to comprehend. But if they could test for the gene, there were steps that could be taken early.
Rob pursed his lips. “This is really something that should be handled by an oncologist or a geneticist. But I can order the test, if that’s really what you want.”
“Yes.”
“I’ll have one of the girls bring you some paperwork. Maudine is in room three.”
Amanda Jane’s hand tightened around her fingers and they went in and saw her grandmother.
She was perched on her bed, her light blue hair perfect, because Gina had just realized it was a wig. And she had Helga Gunderson on one side of her and Ethel Weinburg on the other.
“Looks like someone is in trouble,” Ethel said when she saw the stormy look on Gina’s face. “I’ll leave you two alone.”
“Well, I won’t,” Helga snorted. “I called the ambulance. And I told her she was being a turd by not telling you.”
“They all knew? All of your friends knew but you didn’t tell me?”
Maudine laced her fingers together. “I didn’t see the point in getting you all riled up over nothing. I figured I’d rile you up when it was something to be riled up about. Except for this little setback, I’m obviously fine.”
“Cancer isn’t something to be riled up about? My mother died of cancer. And what about Amanda Jane? What about me? Dr. Ness said you had the BRCA-1 marker. Don’t you think we’d want to get tested? I’m so angry with you right now I could scream.”
Amanda Jane’s grip tightened again.
“I didn’t want to tell you. That’s my decision. I didn’t think you needed anything else on your plate. Whether you like it or not, that was my choice to make.”
“No, no it’s not. Not when it comes to something like this.” Gina was so angry she could chew nails and spit bullets. Everyone knew she got her temper from Maudine—very slow to burn, but when it did, there were going to be fireworks.
“No one is going to ask how I’m feeling now?” Maudine sniffed indelicately.
“No,” Helga said. “You’re being a stubborn cow and need to be taken to task. Even playing the invalid as you are.”
“I am not an invalid.” Maudine wiggled to get out of the bed.
Helga grinned. “See, you’re fine. All fire and sass. Nothing wrong with you.”
“I am going to punch you in your shiny new teeth tomorrow,” Maudine said without any sincerity.
It was then she realized Amanda Jane was crying.
“I don’t want to be here. I wanna go. Let me go. Please, I wanna go,” she started to sob. “I want Daddy. I want my daddy.” She clung so tightly to Gina that she thought her little fingers were going to break.
“He’s at work, sweetheart.” Gina was at a loss.
“I don’t want to have cancer. I don’t want the test. I don’t!”
The way her thin back shuddered under Gina’s hand made it clear that Amanda Jane didn’t care if he was at work and Gina knew that Reed wouldn’t care, either.
He’d care mightily that she’d brought her without consulting him, but he would come.
“I’ll call him.” She hoisted the little girl up into her arms, staving off her own grief. She had to be strong for Amanda Jane. She had to be the rock, she had to be the immutable. Even though inside, she was torn.
With her other hand, she pulled out her cell phone and dialed Reed.
“What’s going on?” he asked.
“Amanda Jane needs you.”
“Where are you?” His voice was calm, and if she hadn’t screwed up, it would have been a balm to her. Instead, it only set her on edge.
“County.” She knew he was going to be angry when he found out exactly how everything had gone down.
“What happened? Is she hurt?”
She should’ve thought about what talking about this in front of Amanda Jane meant. Even though she acted very much like a grown-up, she wasn’t. She was a child. And she should’ve talked to Reed. He was her father.
She’d screwed up big-time.
“No, it’s my grandmother. She fell. We’re at County and Amanda Jane is freaking out.”
“Why? Is Maudine really hurt?” Concern tinged his voice.
“No, she has cancer. Hereditary and Amanda Jane overheard that I wanted to have us both tested and—”
“I’m coming.” He hung up the phone without waiting for another response from her.
She carried Amanda Jane out to the waiting room. She wanted to take her home, wanted to be somewhere familiar, somewhere safe. But her hands were shaking and if she was honest with herself, she needed Reed, too.
His strong, steady presence. His smile. His arms. It would make it all better—make it all okay. He wouldn’t be able to erase the loss, but he’d fill in the gaps,
he’d make the crash softer.
The nurse came out with the paperwork after Amanda Jane cried herself to sleep and she signed it one-handed. The nurse took the draw while the child slept. Even though she may not have wanted the test, that wasn’t something that would go away if it wasn’t acknowledged.
Much like the distance between her and Reed. They had everything between them, everything but the thing that was the most important.
Trust.
She sat, rocking Amanda Jane as she slept, wondering how she was going to fix the mess she’d made. And what she’d do if they both tested positive for the gene. Fear, hope, so many things were tangled all up together and she couldn’t begin to unravel the thread.
Reed made it in record time. He took Amanda Jane from her and even though it was obvious that’s what she needed—wanted—Gina’s arms were barren without her. She didn’t want to share her. She needed Amanda Jane as much as the girl needed her.
“I’m here, honey.” He stroked her head and back. “I’ve got you.”
“Don’t leave me, Daddy.” She whispered the words, groggy with sleep.
“Never,” he swore.
The words were a dagger in her own heart.
He rocked her gently and her little fists clutched the lapel of his jacket as tightly as they’d clutched at Gina.
“So you didn’t think that maybe this might be too much for a little girl to shoulder? That maybe you shouldn’t talk about things like testing her for a cancer gene without talking to me about it first?”
“I...” She lifted her chin. “I did.”
“And you’re not sorry for it?”
She was. Standing there under his gaze, she wanted nothing more than to take it back. To have called him. Of course he would’ve wanted her to be tested. He would’ve wanted them both to be tested. But he’d wanted to be here, and it was important that he was here—as evidenced by Amanda Jane’s reaction.
“Can we not talk about this now?”
“We don’t have to talk about this now. But we will talk about it.”
“Way to make it about you when my grandmother is sick,” she spat. Even as it came out of her mouth, she regretted saying it. She knew that wasn’t what he was doing. She was too open, too raw, too weak. In trying to defend herself, she was just making things worse.
