Dotted Lines

by Devney Perry

  “Yeah.” I nodded. “I’d expected the drunk to be her, but it wasn’t. I think that’s the only reason I came back. If she had hurt someone . . . well, there’s a lot I struggle to forgive my mother for. That would have been a deal breaker.”

  “You came back to take care of her, didn’t you?”

  “She probably didn’t deserve it. But I did it anyway.” I lifted a shoulder. “It took me a long time to learn that she was sick. That she hated herself so much that it was all she knew. That her taking that hate out on me was because I was the only person she had. And it took me a long time to let go of her ghost. To realize I was not the person she told me I was.”

  “You’re a good man, Karson Avery.”

  I dropped my eyes to August, curled up between us. This kid didn’t even know how lucky he was to have a mother like Clara.

  “After she passed, I felt like I could leave it all behind. That’s when I moved to Elyria.”

  “Your fresh start.”

  I nodded. “We all needed them, didn’t we?”

  “We did.” Clara gave me a sad smile. August squirmed on the couch, an arm flailing in the other direction. Clara scooped him into her arms and pushed up off the couch, carrying him to the adjoining room. The rustle of clothes and the thud of shoes dropping to the floor was my hint to leave.

  It was time. It was time to say goodbye. To get back to life in Elyria.

  To Holly.

  She and I had a shot. We had a chance at a future. I hadn’t felt like that about any woman I’d dated before, not Londyn. Not even Clara. Not the women I’d met along my way. Mostly because I’d been too young, but with Holly, there was a real chance.

  Like Clara said herself, timing had never been on our side. Maybe that was for a reason.

  I waited for Clara to finish with August. She emerged, closing his bedroom door. Then I spoke the words I’d been dreading all evening. “It’s been so great to see you. To meet August.”

  “You too.”

  “Good night, Clara.” I spun for the door, ready to make my escape, when she stopped me.

  “Wait. What about the box?” Clara went to the small table where we’d left Lou’s box and letters.

  The box. Damn it.

  “Oh, I forgot about it.” In an effort to get out of here while I still could, before I said or did something that would tarnish these days with Clara, I’d completely forgotten about the box.

  The door would have to wait.

  She took a chair on one side of the table while I sat in the other. Then she lifted out the box’s contents. Other boxes, all small. “These are jewelry boxes.”

  Six in total, in varying colors and sizes. And each of them had a small piece of paper taped to the underside.

  “Here you go,” she said, passing over my letter and the navy velvet ring box with my name on it.

  I opened the envelope first, pulling out a crisp piece of ecru paper and unfolding it.

  * * *

  Karson,

  These were my wife’s rings. She couldn’t wear them when she was pregnant with our baby because her fingers swelled up like sausages. That’s what she called them. Sausage fingers.

  By rights, I should have buried her with them. But that was a hard time. I’m ashamed to admit that I didn’t realize she hadn’t been wearing the rings in her coffin until I found them in her jewelry box a few weeks later.

  Now that she’s gone and I’m not long to follow, I’d like you to have them.

  Give them to a woman like my Hope. She was smart and brave. She laughed through the good times and made me laugh through the bad. She was the soul on earth I was made to find.

  I left a picture of her beside my bed. Wasn’t she a beauty? One look at her and the world made sense.

  Take care of yourself. And I’ll thank you in advance for taking care of these for Hope. I trust you’ll give them to someone special. You always had good taste in girls. I suspect that won’t change.

  Lou

  * * *

  I read it twice. Three times. And my heart ached so badly I could barely breathe.

  It was an elegant letter for a man who’d mostly spoken in grunts. Refolding the paper, I returned it to the envelope, tucking it carefully inside. Then I took the box and pried the lid open.

  The center jewel on the engagement ring was a deep grayish blue, the color of the ocean on a stormy day. It was accented by tiny diamonds on each side. The white jewels were arranged without a pattern, like leaves beneath a flower. The white gold band was smooth and shiny. It matched the simple wedding ring beneath.

  “Damn, Lou.” I pulled the ring from the box, holding it up to catch the light. “This was his wife’s ring.”

  Clara didn’t respond. She was too busy staring at the ring pinched between her own fingers.

  It was Lou’s wedding band. I didn’t have to ask to know. And I suspected Clara’s letter was also about Hope.

  A tear dripped down her cheek, snapping her out of her trance. She blinked her eyes clear and swiped at her face. Then she refolded her letter and put it away. “I’ll send the others their letters and boxes when I get home.”

  “Thanks.” I put Hope’s ring away, then shoved the box into my pocket. Then I took the letter and stood, needing a minute to let Lou’s words sink in.

  The timing of this had me reeling. Two months ago, that letter would have meant something else entirely.

  “I’m going to go,” I said. “Good night.”

  “Good night,” she whispered.

  I was almost to the door when she stopped me again.

  “Does Holly know about us? About what happened in the past?”

  My shoulders fell and I turned. “No.”

  She got up from the table and walked closer. “Aria never knew about us either. I always wondered if she did, but she never said anything.”

  “You didn’t tell her? Why?”

  “Because you were mine. You were the one thing I didn’t want to share. With anyone.” Her confession rocked me to my heels. “Why didn’t you tell Holly?”

  “Because I fucked up,” I admitted, the weight of Lou’s letter settling on my shoulders.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I should have gone with you to Las Vegas.”

  A fresh sheen of tears flooded her eyes. “Sweet dreams, Karson.”

  “Then I’ll dream of you.”

  I shouldn’t have said it, but the words were unstoppable.

  When I left, she let me go.

  When the door closed, there was no turning back.

  I drove the Cadillac home.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Karson

  “It’s Clara, isn’t it?” There were tears in Holly’s eyes. “When you wake up in the middle of the night, it’s because of her.”

  “Yes, it is.”

  Years of sleepless nights and it was almost always because of Clara. I’d dream that she was hurt. I’d dream that she was calling my name, begging for help. I’d dream that she was drowning in the ocean or standing in the middle of a freeway, stuck between racing cars.

  Other nights I’d simply hear her voice. I’d hear her laugh and kiss another man. And the fear that drove me awake was not that she was in danger. The fear was that I’d lost her to someone else.

  For too long, I’d ignored it and hidden in work or travel or relocating to new cities. For a time, I’d been busy caring for my mother, who never had woken up from her coma. I’d gone to visit her in hospice nearly every day, speaking to the shell she’d once been.

  No matter the current focus of my life, I’d kept Clara’s memory tucked into the quiet corners of my heart.

  “Nothing happened,” I promised Holly.

  The problem was that I wanted it to happen. I wanted Clara. No amount of time or distance would change those feelings. And Lou’s words had confirmed it all. With every sentence, I’d known the right choice. He’d entrusted Hope’s rings to my care, and they belonged to Clara.

  Ho
lly deserved the truth.

  After I’d left Clara’s room, I’d called Holly and told her I was coming home. I’d asked her to wait up. Maybe she’d heard the breakup in my voice because when I’d come through the door, she’d been in the living room. Her backpack had been beside the door, closed and full. I suspected that the toothbrush she’d left here and the extra clothes were inside.

  “I’m sorry, Holly.”

  She sniffled and swallowed hard. “Is there anything I could have done?”

  Christ, I hated this. I hated seeing hurt on her beautiful face, but she deserved to find the man who saw her and only her. “No.”

  “Ouch. I thought . . . I thought we had a chance.”

  I opened my mouth to apologize again, but she was already gone, standing from the couch and hurrying across the living room.

  I followed, standing by as she picked up her backpack and purse. Then she closed the distance between us, raised up on her toes to kiss my cheek. “Goodbye, Karson.”

  “Goodbye, Holly.”

  She slipped out of the door without a backward glance.

  I didn’t move until the lights from her headlights had vanished. Then I bolted for the door myself, flinging it open and whipping it closed behind me as I ran for the Cadillac.

  The roads to Temecula were nearly deserted as I raced to my Clara.

  The hotel lobby was empty and dark. The front desk clerk side-eyed me as I jogged through the lobby for the elevator. The slow ride to our floor was torture.

  It had been over three hours since I’d bid Clara good night. Was she still awake? I checked the time on my phone as I strode down the hallway toward her room. It was after midnight. She was probably asleep behind that closed door, but there was no way I was waiting until morning. “Fuck it.”

  I knocked lightly, waiting. If she didn’t answer, I’d call. I shifted from one foot to the other, my breath lodged in my chest.

  Then there was a click and the slide of a chain. Clara opened the door, wearing a pale pink silk camisole and matching sleep shorts with a lace hem. Her hair was loose, draped over her bare shoulders. But she hadn’t been sleeping. There was red rimming her eyes and her cheeks were splotchy.

  She’d been crying.

  Lou’s words clicked into place.

  One look at her and the world made sense.

  “I love you.”

  Clara gasped, her body tensing. “W-what?”

  Smooth, Karson. I hadn’t meant to just blurt those three words but now that they were out there, I might as well just go with it. “I love you.”

  She blinked, clearly confused. “What about Holly?”

  “I just got back from Elyria.”

  “Oh.” Her eyes widened. “Why?”

  Why? My stomach dropped. Had I read this wrong? Did she not feel the same? No. No goddamn way. “Because she wasn’t you.”

  Her chin began to quiver. “You love me?”

  “I—”

  “I love you too.” The moment she spoke, she dropped her face into her hands. Her shoulders began to shake and I crossed the distance between us, urging her into the room before easing the door closed.

  Why was she crying?

  “Clara, I—”

  Before I could finish my sentence, she surged, throwing her arms around my shoulders. Then there was no more talking. Her lips found mine and a bolt of lightning shot through my body, fusing me to her. We were a mess of fumbling hands and wet lips.

  The urgency of her mouth. The desperation of mine. She opened for me and I dove in, my tongue tangling with hers as my arms engulfed her.

  Never in my life had a kiss meant so much. I gave in, surrendering to this woman’s soft lips and the slick of her tongue against mine. She clung to me as I clung to her, the softness of her body pressed into my hard lines.

  This was her. This was my Clara.

  And I’d kiss her every day for the rest of my life.

  I scooped her up so her toes were dangling above the carpet, then I walked us to her bedroom, laying her on the bed. Covering her with my body.

  Her hands came to my face, holding me to her lips, as my hands roamed down the silk of her top and shorts to the bare skin of her legs. I kneaded the flesh of her toned thighs. I drew my fingers along the back of her knee in a featherlight touch.

  When she began to tremble, I forced myself to break away, going to the door and closing it quietly before flipping the lock. The sight that greeted me on the bed when I turned sent all my blood rushing to my groin.

  Clara was seated on the edge of the bed. The lust in her eyes darkened them to chocolate pools. The faint light from the street outside seeped through the sheer curtains, acting like moonlight on her flawless skin.

  She reached for the hem of her shirt, slowly gathering it in her hands. Then she dragged it over her head, tossing it to the floor.

  My mouth went dry. Her rosy nipples were peaked and the desperation to feel them under my palms sent me flying across the room, dropping to my knees before her.

  “You are beautiful. So fucking beautiful.” I slid my hands up her ribs, savoring the moan that escaped her lips. Then I found her breasts in my palms, letting them fill my hands as I raked my thumbs over her nipples.

  Clara’s back arched, pressing herself further into my touch. The silk of her skin was intoxicating, and tonight, I’d touch every inch. I’d lick and worship because she was mine.

  “Say it again,” I said, urging her down to the mattress. When that hair was splayed beneath her, I ran my hands down the swell of her hips, hooking my fingers into the shorts and the panties beneath. Then I pulled them from her legs, inch by torturous inch.

  Her breath hitched when they landed on the floor. She lay bare and perfect, her gaze locked on mine.

  I swallowed a groan. “Say it again.”

  “I love you.”

  “One more time.”

  The corner of her mouth turned up as she pushed up on her elbows, moving backward until she reached the pillows. Then she crooked a finger, beckoning me to the bed. Did she have any idea the power she had over me?

  I reached behind me to yank my T-shirt over my head. My flip-flops crashed to the carpet as Clara’s gaze dropped down my stomach to the hem of my jeans. I flipped open the button, then dragged down the zipper. I shoved the pants and my black boxer briefs over my thighs, my erection bobbing free. Then I wrapped a fist around my shaft.

  Clara watched as I gave it a long stroke, her eyes glued to my cock. Her cheeks were pink, her breaths heavy. “Karson.”

  I stayed at the foot of the bed.

  “I don’t have a condom.” It was a fucking shame because what I wanted most was to sink inside her. To forget where I started and she began. But I’d make her come tonight, with my fingers and my tongue. “I’ve always used one. Always.”

  “I, um . . . not since Devan.”

  Fuck me. I didn’t like that son of a bitch’s name anywhere near a naked Clara, but knowing that she’d been without a man since was a damn rush because I’d be the last lover in her life.

  “You sure?”

  “I don’t want to wait.” She gave me a sheepish smile. “But I’m not on birth control.”

  Fuck, but she was shredding me here. “Your call, baby.”

  “I don’t want to wait.”

  I crawled to her, hovering above her body. The intensity of her gaze was nearly my undoing as her hips cradled mine and my cock rested against her center.

  “I want you to have my kids.” Apparently, I had no filter tonight. Confession after confession streamed out.

  Her eyes flared.

  “I’m not going to hold back. I’m not going to take this slow. I’ve missed too many years with you, and I am not going to waste another second. You’re mine. August is mine.”

  Her hand came to my cheek as another wash of tears flooded her eyes. There was so much emotion there. Regret for the missed years. Hope for the future.

  What she felt, I felt too.

&
nbsp; “Karson . . .”

  “I know.” I dropped a soft kiss to her mouth, running my tongue over the bottom swell of her parted lips. I deepened the kiss, treasuring her sweet taste and the feel of her bare chest against my own as I nudged against her center.

  Clara locked her eyes with mine, her hands trailing down my spine toward my ass. Then I inched forward, catching her mewl with another kiss.

  I rocked us together, deliberately, until I was rooted deep. “You feel so fucking good.”

  “Move.” She hummed and locked her legs around my hips, shifting me deeper.

  Ruined. I was ruined. And I relished every damn second of it.

  I eased out and slid back inside her tight, wet heat. Over and over, I brought us together as her hips moved to match my rhythm. We were hushed whispers and swallowed moans. We were lost lovers making up for missed days and nights.

  By the time her eyes drifted shut and her inner walls fluttered around me, the build in my lower spine was punishing. The pressure to pour myself into her was almost impossible to keep at bay.

  Clara’s back arched, her entire body shuddering as she held back a cry and pulsed around me. She came so hard, so strong, that I went over with her, letting the stars break across my vision and succumbing to my release.

  We panted, holding tight to each other’s sweaty bodies, until finally I eased away and rolled her atop my chest.

  Our breaths mingled. Her ear was pressed against my heart.

  “Wow.”

  “Holy fucking shit.”

  She giggled and propped her chin on my pec. “How long?”

  “How long for what?”

  She gave me a wicked grin. “How long until we can go again?”

  I flipped her in a flash, so she was on her stomach. Then I dropped a trail of kisses over her shoulders, reaching between her legs and finding her swollen clit.

  She gasped. “Already?”

  “For you?” I moved up, using my free hand to pull her hair away from her face. Then I whispered in her ear. “Always.”

  “So are you going to be my dad?” August had never looked so serious. Gone was the boy. Instead, I was crouched beside a warrior.