Crank

by Shauna Allen

  Her sweet mouth gaped open. Then she snapped it closed and drew even further away from me. “I can’t believe . . . you know what’s wrong, Blake! How can you not?” She sat straight as steel as her face became mottled. “Oh, wait, maybe not, since you were never fucking home!”

  Shock slapped me first at the f-bomb slipping from her lips, then the same righteous indignation that filled me every time we had this fight snapped into place. “I may not have been home enough for you, but I was building a damn business! I did it for us . . . for you, Delilah!”

  She slumped, her head bowed. “But it killed us.”

  “Bullshit!” Something deeper, darker than anger, was rushing through my veins now. Hopelessness. “I still love you . . . and I know you love me. We can figure this out.”

  Tear-filled eyes met mine. “How?”

  I suddenly felt drained. “I don’t know.” I reached for her, but she pulled away, breaking my damn heart. “But we have to try, babe. Please. A baby . . .”

  “A baby deserves a happy home, Blake. We can’t . . . I don’t think we have that anymore.”

  God, the way she looked at me. Like she was yearning for me to make it all better. And, damn it, how I wished I could. But I didn’t know how. I swallowed the knot in my throat. “Tonight was a good start, wasn’t it?”

  Her gaze dropped to her lap and the red throw pillow she clutched. The silence was deafening.

  “Delilah.” I reached over and gripped her hand, holding firm until she relented and let our fingers intertwine. “Princess.” I waited until she looked up at me and the pain in her eyes about killed me. I hated myself for doing this to her. “We’ll work this out, I swear. Just don’t give up on me . . . on us.”

  I was prepared to get on my knees and beg if I had to. She couldn’t leave me now.

  “I’m scared,” she admitted, her voice wobbly.

  “Scared? Of what? Not me?” I clutched her hand tighter.

  Tears dribbled down her face. “I’m scared of losing this baby. Of being heartbroken . . . of being hurt again. All of it.”

  Emotion clawed up my chest. “Oh, baby. Come here.” I collected her into my arms, holding on until her body gave up the fight and relaxed into me. Her hands clung around my shoulders as she began to hold just as tight. I let her cry, holding back my own tears. How had we become this . . . two lost people who had forgotten how to love each other?

  I tipped my head to hers. “I love you so much,” I whispered.

  She only cried harder.

  We stayed like that for I don’t know how long. Until beams of moonlight were streaking in through the curtains, giving the living room an ethereal glow.

  Her tears finally subsided and she drew back a bit to wipe her face. I waited, silent, and let her speak first.

  She met my gaze hesitantly. “So . . . what should we . . . I don’t know what to do here.”

  “You don’t have to do anything.” I offered her a gentle smile. “Tell you what, let’s not stress about this. Instead, why don’t we just start from scratch?”

  “From scratch?”

  “Yeah.” My smile grew. “We were young and fell madly in love once. Let’s see if we can find that place again. Whatdya say?” I saw the worry flit across her face. “Come on. I promise to work harder at doing it right this time . . . and our baby deserves no less.”

  My heart began to thud erratically as I considered that she might actually say no. That she might take this baby and run from me. “Do you love me enough to try, Dee?”

  She squeezed her eyes shut and I felt my heart breaking clean in two. She didn’t love me enough . . .

  “Yes,” she whispered, so softly I almost didn’t catch it. “We can try.” Her watery blue eyes caught and held mine. “Though I’m not sure how we’ll do that.”

  “You just let me worry about that, baby.” I traced her jaw with my thumb. “Just you wait and see . . . we’re gonna get through this.”

  We began our new start that night. With ice cream.

  I found the carton of rocky road—her favorite—in the freezer and dished us up two big bowls. I brought it to her in the living room, where she was still huddled in the corner of the couch.

  I had no idea what I was doing here, only that I had to find a way back to my wife.

  I sat beside her and handed her a bowl.

  She smiled her thanks and I watched as she lifted the first spoonful to her lips. Then I just started talking. About everything. About nothing. Whatever it took to get her speaking to me. I told her more about the Spyder. About Jesse’s Christmas party. The stray cat that had been frequenting the shop so much I’d started keeping cat food there for him.

  “What’s his name?” she asked.

  “Who?”

  “The cat.”

  “Oh. He doesn’t really have a name,” I admitted. “Just ‘here, kitty, kitty.’”

  She took another bite of ice cream and frowned. “He needs a name.”

  “What do you suggest?”

  “What’s he look like?”

  I pictured the skinny thing. “Uh, gray and white. He looks like a cat.”

  She laughed. “Okay, how about Fluffy?”

  “Uh, no. Too girly. He wouldn’t like it.”

  “Mittens?”

  I shot her a frown.

  “Okay, I’ve got it. How about Storm? That was my cat when I was little.”

  I shrugged. “Okay. Storm, it is.”

  She grinned and I loved her even more for caring about a stray cat’s name.

  We talked about our work and I asked if her car had been running all right. She nodded and dipped her spoon again to play with her melting dessert.

  “Have you been having any morning sickness?” I asked.

  Her gaze shot to me. Something in her eyes softened. “A little. It’s not too bad.”

  I nodded and took a big bite of my own ice cream, crunching down on an almond. “Have you been to the doctor yet?”

  She dipped her eyes to her bowl, scraped her spoon inside. “Yes. He says it looks good right now.” She shifted and faced me. “He put me on progesterone to . . . to try and help me keep the pregnancy this time.”

  Flashes of the misery we shared each time she miscarried filled my brain. “That’s good,” I murmured. “So, when are you due?”

  “June 29th.”

  My breath caught. I could see it in her eyes, she was wondering if I cared. “The same week as Luke.”

  She pressed a hand to her lips at the mention of our first baby. The one we were so sure was a boy, we’d already named him Luke.

  “You remember,” she whispered.

  “Of course I remember. He was our son. I grieved him, too.”

  Liquid pain rolled down her cheeks and I set my bowl aside to hold her again. “I grieved all of them, Delilah. Just like you. Maybe I didn’t show it like you wanted me to, and maybe I wasn’t there for you like I should’ve been, but I loved those babies, too. They were a part of both of us.”

  Her hand with the ice cream bowl went limp as she wilted into me. I grabbed the bowl and set it next to mine. This time, I let my tears fall to mingle with hers as we grieved our lost children together.

  But by the end of the night, we were smiling again, cautiously hopeful about this baby.

  I was banking on the fact that it had to be fate giving us another chance.

  Delilah

  I agreed to come back home. After the way Blake held me and cried with me, I knew it was the right thing to do. Or at least, I tried to convince myself of that.

  Thankfully, all my boxes were still lined up in the living room since I hadn’t taken anything yet other than a small suitcase. But I told him I was going to sleep in the spare bedroom. For now. He’d seemed so relieved I was coming back, he didn’t argue.

  He glanced over at me as we drove in his Camaro to go get my stuff from Rachel’s. “What’re you doing tomorrow night?”

  “Uh . . .” I stared at him, puzzled. “Didn�
�t you say tomorrow was Jesse’s party?”

  He flipped on his signal as he turned onto Rachel’s street. “That’s next weekend.”

  “Oh. Well then I’m not doing anything tomorrow that I know of. Why?”

  “I’d like to take you out on a proper date.”

  His grin was infectious. “Okay, sure,” I said.

  “Great.” He reached across the console and gripped my hand. It felt so warm, so right. So us.

  I had texted Rachel so she met me at the door. She peeked over my shoulder where Blake was waiting like I’d asked him to. She faced me. “What’s up?”

  I brushed past her. “Just like I texted you. I’m going home.” I peered at her. “For now. We’ll see how it all works out.”

  “Did you tell him about the baby?”

  I nodded and started tossing my loose clothes back into my suitcase. “I did.”

  “And?”

  My heart rolled in my chest as I faced her. “And he’s happy. He wants to try and fix things.”

  “That’s great! I told you a divorce was a mistake.”

  I shoved my tears and doubts away. “We’ll see.”

  “What do you mean, ‘we’ll see’?” Rachel frowned.

  I sighed and headed to the bathroom for my things. “It means we’ll see. Rach, things have been so messed up for so long . . . I don’t even feel like I know my husband anymore. It won’t magically become a bed of roses just because we’re having a baby.”

  She was silent a moment as I collected my toothbrush and deodorant. “The baby has nothing to do with it.”

  I scowled at her.

  “Well, okay, the baby might have a little to do with it. But you two love each other. You’re meant to be together. Just because you’ve hit a little rough patch doesn’t mean it’s over.”

  “A little rough patch?”

  “Fine. A big rough patch.” She leaned against the counter and watched me stuff all my makeup back into my travel bag. “I have faith in you. I mean, if you guys can’t work out, who can?”

  I ignored that and moved back to the spare room. I tossed my shoes in my suitcase and zipped it up. There was a time I agreed with her. I knew we’d be together forever. But now the future looked so uncertain. How can you be married to a virtual stranger?

  God, I missed him.

  I heaved my bag and headed toward the door. Rachel rushed past me and grabbed it. “Hey, no heavy lifting, Mama.”

  I tried to argue, but she headed out the door, ignoring me. Blake stepped out of the car and met her halfway down the sidewalk and took the bag from her. She murmured something to him and his eyes shot to mine before he answered.

  He was shoving my bag into the trunk when I got there and Rachel pressed a kiss to my cheek. “Make it work,” she whispered before she walked away.

  “Mind if we stop by the shop for a minute?” Blake glanced at me then back to the road. “I just need to drop something off and talk to the guys real quick. I promise it won’t be long.”

  He looked tense and his voice was uncertain. I hated that I’d made him feel bad about going to work. “That’s fine,” I said, glancing at the time. They were still working?

  As if reading my thoughts, he said, “They all stayed late to finish up on a job, and I just need to fill them in on a couple things before they head out.”

  I nodded as we pulled into the Jack ‘Em Up driveway. As I eyed my husband’s business, I felt a surge of pride. Yes, it had taken him away from me a lot, but he’d built something special and he was so good at what he did. I just wish that we hadn’t lost each other in the process.

  He parked and hopped out. “Be right back.”

  I nodded, but he ducked back in almost before I could blink and pressed a quick kiss to my lips. “Just had to do that,” he said with a sexy grin, then he was off.

  I watched him stop at the open bay door and speak with a young guy with spiky blond hair. Must be the new kid they hired that he’d told me about. They talked a moment then the kid jogged off with some kind of metal part in his hand, climbed into his car, and took off.

  Blake disappeared inside the garage and I took the time to try and think. Was I making a mistake going home after filing for divorce? Was it just prolonging the inevitable sad ending?

  Did we have a shot in hell?

  True to his word, a few minutes later, he strolled outside, along with Trace, Jesse, and Micah, all of them in deep discussion about something, Blake gesturing inside the shop. They chatted a little longer, then Blake said something and all four sets of male eyes turned my way. I froze. What had he said?

  Then he smiled at me like I’d made his day and started back while the other guys broke off to go their own ways.

  He slid into the car, bringing with him the scent of the cold December air, grease, and just a hint of his soap.

  “What did you say to them?” I asked.

  He started the car with a roar. “Nothing. Why?”

  I tilted my head and waited.

  He smiled and put the car in reverse. “I just told them I was taking the weekend off to be with you.” He peeked at me from the corner of his eyes. “And that you’re coming home.”

  “Did you tell them about the baby?”

  “No.” He paused a moment and drove onto the main road. “I figured we would decide together when it was the right time to tell people.” I could feel his eyes on me. “Did you tell anyone? Your parents?”

  “What? No! I wouldn’t . . . my parents are near the bottom of the list. You know that. But I did tell Rachel. She was actually the one who mentioned it and pressured me to take a test. Then she went with me to the doctor.”

  His grip tightened on the wheel and his jaw clenched. “I wish I would’ve . . . I should have been there.”

  “It’s okay, Blake. You didn’t know—”

  “No,” he interrupted, his voice pained. “I should’ve been there for you all this time. I was just . . . I’m trying to provide for you the way you deserve.” He glanced at me. “I never meant to hurt you.”

  I nodded and glanced away, too overcome to speak. Blake had been a wonderful provider. I’d been more than taken care of . . . at least financially. And as much as I appreciated that, loved him for that, he’d always pushed himself harder, tried to do more, as if the devil himself was at his back with a whip. It didn’t matter how much he gave me—I could’ve fallen at his feet, fainting with happiness—nothing was ever enough for him and I wondered if it ever would be.

  He drove on and we didn’t talk anymore. Eventually, he signaled and turned into my favorite bakery. I shot him a curious look. “What’re you doing?”

  “Buying breakfast for tomorrow.” He parked and faced me with glittering eyes. “You want your usual cinnamon bagel with that fancy cream cheese?”

  I grinned at how well he had me pegged. “Yes, thanks.”

  Classic rock rumbled from the speakers as we drove home with our pastries, their sweet scent wafting up and making me want a bite. I’d better watch it, or I’d get big as a house. When we pulled up into the driveway, I suddenly felt relief mixed with trepidation. I really did love our house, but it was like we were starting a whole new chapter. One shrouded in mystery, maybe pain.

  Blake parked, bounced out, and opened my door before I could move. I smiled up at him and stood with our bag of bagels. I tried to step around him, but he moved in and blocked my way, trapping me between him and the car door.

  “What—?”

  His essence mixed with the cool air and wrapped around me as he swooped in for a kiss. His lips were gentle, coaxing. His hands were still, holding the door, as he let his mouth do all the work. Sweet and seductive, he drew a moan from deep in my throat as his tongue teased the seam of my lips. But still, he didn’t push or rush. He took his time placing little butterfly kisses everywhere. The corner of my mouth, my cheek, nose, my eyelids and forehead. Then his lips found mine again, and I was so lost in him, I tilted my head and opened my mouth, begging for
more.

  Our tongues tangled and danced, rubbing intimately across the other as we kissed like we hadn’t in . . . months. Years, maybe. And it was intoxicating.

  He finally drew back, keeping us nose-to-nose, his breath fanning onto my flesh. Our eyes sought each other’s and we just stared. It was as if he was trying to communicate with me something he couldn’t put into words. But what?

  Without a word, he used his free hand to grab mine and led me into the house. God, what had I gotten myself into?

  Blake

  I found Delilah staring at the coffeepot the next morning, exhaustion all over her face. She glanced over to me and grimaced. “I’m gonna miss my coffee.”

  It took a moment, then it clicked. She’d given up caffeine every time she got pregnant. I wrapped an arm around her shoulder. “Sorry, babe. If it makes you feel any better, I’ll drink it for you.”

  She slapped my arm and pulled out the container of decaf. “Rub it in, why don’t you?”

  I kissed the top of her head. “I need to go into the shop for a while today.” I waited until she looked at me. “I’m really sorry. I know I promised to take the weekend off.”

  She turned back to her coffee while I explained that the potential buyer for the Spyder had contacted me last night and this meeting simply could not wait. He had business out of town on Monday, so it was now or never.

  She shrugged. “I’ve gotta work for a few hours, too. It’s fine.”

  I stared at her, making sure she wasn’t pissed. But only understanding and fatigue were mirrored in her eyes. Still feeling guilty, I made time to sit and eat our bagels together, but the poor baby looked a little green around the gills, only nibbling hers. I left her with a kiss to the forehead and strict orders to take it easy at work.

  “I’ll be home early, so you be ready for our date tonight, Princess.”

  The look of wariness in her eyes cut me to the quick. Had I really screwed it up that bad?

  I hoped with all that was in me that something would come through soon because I could sure use the infusion of cash to pump into the business . . . and my personal cut could do so much to take care of Dee. And the baby.