by Breena Wilde
I sighed and turned off the water. “Yes, mom. Thanks. I’m fine.”
“No rush. Emma and I are going to bake some cookies.”
I smiled into the towel. “Sounds delicious. Her favorite is oatmeal, just in case you’re wondering.”
“Uh huh, just like her mom, I guess.”
I wrapped the towel around me and wiped the steam from the mirror. “Yep.”
I heard her footsteps as she padded down the carpeted hallway back toward the kitchen.
I stared at my reflection, the brightness of my green eyes, the auburn tinge to my eyebrows and lashes. My cheekbones were high and protruded. It was a side effect of the drugs I was on—lack of appetite. A month after I had Emma I’d started on them. My doctor hoped they would slow the cancer so that I could have six months to recuperate after giving birth.
Weight loss had been the only negative consequence I’d suffered. My reflection didn’t reveal the havoc making its way through my body. That would change when I started chemotherapy next month. My doctor had advised me of the side effects. Nausea. Fatigue. Hair loss.
What will Austin think of you then?
The thought made my heart hurt. Why did he have to come back now? What could he possibly tell me that would make up for what he did?
I’d already resigned myself to live the remainder of my life without him. Our eight weeks together had been amazing, the best experience of my life. And my daughter—I couldn’t have asked for a better gift than Emma. Austin was my great love. I knew I’d never feel for another person the way I felt for him, and I was okay with that. No matter what happened, I’d experienced real, true love. I’d been given a child. I had a job and family who adored me.
I’d accepted life without him, even told myself Emma and I were better off. Then Austin had to go and fuck everything up with an email.
I closed my eyes and placed a hand on each side of the porcelain sink.
“What do you want?” I whispered.
The last night Austin and I had been together preoccupied my thoughts.
The tender way he’d undressed me. The way his eyes devoured my body. “I’m in love with your lips,” he’d said, kissing me. Then he’d pulled away and blazed a trail with his tongue down my body. “I’m in love with the curve of your hips.” He’d kissed each bone and then the slit of my most private part. He pushed open my legs so I was exposed to him.
Then he positioned himself and slid inside. “I’m in love with you. Every inch.”
I’d shuddered, my body filled up with him, with the love on his lips and in his eyes.
“I’m in love with you, too,” I finally admitted. It was the one and only time I’d ever said those words to another soul.
After we made love he tucked my body against his chest and we’d fallen asleep.
When I woke, I remembered a tender kiss, but he was gone. No note. No phone number. Nothing.
“You came back. Why?” I scrunched the ends of my curly hair and applied lotion to my body. I put on some brown eyeliner and mascara, a little blush, and some light pink gloss. Then I went into my bedroom. My sisters told me I should wear a sexy dress and heels to show off my long legs, but there was no way I could walk in heels on the beach, especially not at midnight during winter. It wasn’t practical. Doing so would be stupid.
Instead I dressed sensibly in jeans, a pair of knee-high boots, and an oversized sweater. It was always windy at the beach, so I put my hair up. I looked pretty and appeared as though I wasn’t trying too hard—which I wasn’t, of course.
When I came out of my room, my mom rolled her eyes. “I didn’t think you should wear a dress and heels either, but really? He won’t be able to see your gorgeous figure.” My mom was sitting on the floor next to Emma, who lay on a blanket staring up at a jungle gym of colors—a gift from Heather. I knelt down beside my mom and touched Emma’s hand. She wrapped her fingers around it and held tightly, her eyes finding my face.
“Hey baby-girl. You gonna be good while mommy’s gone?”
Emma smiled.
“Yeah, you’re such a good girl.” I moved the gym and picked her up, snuggling her into my shoulder.
After a few seconds, my mom took her. “You don’t want her to spit up on you.” Then she eyed my outfit again. “Or maybe you do.”
I shrugged. “It doesn’t matter what I wear. Austin and I are going to talk. Well, he better do some serious talking. I’m going to listen… at least until I get so pissed I start yelling.”
Mom chuckled. “If that’s how the night is going to go you’re in the perfect outfit.” She turned Emma in her arms and held her so their faces were close. “What do you think, Emmy Whemmy?”
“Emmy Whemmy is on my side and yes, that’s probably pretty close to how the it’ll happen.” I walked into the kitchen, and opened the refrigerator. “Is chicken okay for dinner?”
“What kind of chicken?” she asked in a baby voice.
“Sautéed with mushrooms and onions with a salad and baked potato?”
“Mmmmm, that sounds goo-ooood, don’t you think so, baby-girl?” I turned just in time to catch Emma smiling big at my mom.
“Did you need me to cut the onion or the mushrooms?” she asked.
“No, you holding Emma is a huge help.”
I tried to eat when dinner was ready, but my stomach was in knots and I finally gave up.
Mom tidied up the kitchen after dinner and I held Emma. My sisters came over and we had more secret eggnog, sang a few carols, and exchanged presents.
Liv got me a red cashmere scarf. “I’m wearing it tonight. It’ll bring me luck,” I said, wrapping it around my neck. It was soft.
Heather opened the present I got her and squealed. It was a sterling silver dolphin with diamonds encrusted on the fin. I’d saved all year to get it because of how much Heather loved dolphins.
“You’re too much. This is gorgeous.” Tears made her eyes shiny. I hugged her. We all pitched in and got mom a cruise, and she was super excited about that.
Heather gave Sara a spa day and a promise to take care of her kids so she could go and enjoy herself.
My sisters and mom spoiled Emma with clothes, toys, and shoes. All Emma cared about was the paper, the noise it made when the wrapping paper ripped.
The evening was amazing. My sisters went home around nine-thirty and I put Emma to bed. When I came out, my mom had the TV on and was watching Doctor Zhivago. I hated that show. It was long and the end wasn’t satisfying. Mom called it realistic. I sat down next to her. “Why do you put yourself through this? You know how it ends. She picks the wrong guy.”
Mom patted my knee. “Maybe she picked the wrong guy for you, but she ended up with the guy she needed.”
I snorted. “You’re so practical.”
“True.” She turned and faced me. “How are you feeling? Need to talk?”
“Yes, if it’s about anything other than what I’m going to be doing in two hours.”
“Fine.” Mom turned back to the TV. “Let’s see how it ends.”
I crossed my arms and snuggled next to her. We both knew how it ended. It was strange though, because as the final scenes played out I still had hope she’d choose the man I thought she should end up with.
Of course, she didn’t.
As the credits rolled, mom stood. “You’d better go.”
I felt like I might puke. My body started trembling again. Mom seemed to sense it. “Be strong. He came looking for you. Let him share his reasons, listen, and then follow your heart.” She kissed me on the cheek. “When you get home, scoot me over. Night.” She picked up the baby monitor and walked down the hall. When she reached my bedroom, she turned back. “Merry Christmas, Willow. I love you.”
“Love you too,” I responded.
She blew me a kiss, went into my bedroom, and closed the door.
I walked to the end of the lane where wooden stairs led down to the beach. The tide was out, which meant the caves would be damp but dry. As I de
scended, I tried not to think of the time Austin and I had spent walking along this beach, holding hands, talking, and kissing in the moonlight. It’d been our favorite way to end a night out before he’d walk me home, kiss me goodnight, and then more often than not end up staying.
I clicked on my phone and the time lit up. It was five minutes to midnight. Five more minutes and I’d know the true merit of the man I’d fallen in love with those many months ago. The prospect terrified me. Several times I nearly turned around and scuttled back up the stairs, away from the inevitable.
But I wasn’t a coward. At least, not yet.
When I reached the last step I paused. The wind was always strongest near the ocean. My hair ripped from my bun and strands blew in my face. I brushed them aside as I searched the shoreline for him. Now that the time was so close, I was anxious. My heart raced with anticipation.
Austin. Austin. Austin.
My mind chanted his name.
He’s said our cave. I knew exactly the one he meant. The light from the moon glistened off the water and lit up the night. My boots scrunched in the sand and I inhaled the salty smell of the ocean and the dried seaweed.
When I came to the large rock that housed our cave I saw a light. He’d made a fire. I stopped, leaning against the prickly surface.
This is it, I thought.
I rounded the corner and there he was. Austin Merrick, the most gorgeous man I’d ever met or would ever meet. He heard me enter the cave and turned.
As soon as our eyes met, his face lit up.
“Willow.” He tossed the stick he’d been using to poke the firewood into the flames and stood.
I couldn’t move. He looked exactly the same: tall, bright hazel eyes, longer dark hair, and tanned skin. Well, except he had on a suit instead of the jeans and tee shirt I’d become used to seeing him in. He also wasn’t wearing his cowboy hat or boots.
Damn, he looked good in a suit. But why was he wearing a suit? And near a fire.
He moved toward me, his hands out.
My body started to tremble. “This is wrong,” I whispered, and ran.
He came after me immediately. “Willow. Wait.”
I kept going until I tripped on a damn rock and went down hands and face first into the wet sand.
Austin fell next to me. “Are you alright?”
I spit out some sand and wiped my mouth. There was no doubt I was a mess, but I wasn’t going to get another shot.
My inner voice kept telling me to keep calm—let Austin talk, let him explain—but my mouth wasn’t giving a fuck.
“No, I’m not okay, Austin. Do I look okay?” I pushed myself over into a sitting position.
His serious expression turned light and I noticed him fight not to laugh. His beautiful eyes crinkled at the sides. It made me want to cry. “You’ve got some…” he paused and brushed sand from my lip. The touch of his finger sent a jolt of need through my body. “Let me help you.” He stood and held out a hand for me.
My ass was wet and I was shivering with cold now, but I didn’t want his goddamn help. “I don’t want your help. I don’t need you.” I spat the words angrily, fighting back the tears that threatened.
He sighed and kneeled. “It’s cold. At least come back to the fire.”
I turned away, watching the waves crash over each other and roll toward us, then pull back. The tide was coming in. A cloud covered the bright moon and the world went dark. It took a minute for my eyes to adjust. When they did I saw Austin still kneeled in front of me, his hands on his thighs, his face serious.
He moved closer so I could feel his breath on my mouth. It was minty fresh. I held my breath, shocked. He wouldn’t dare. Then his mouth was on mine. Soft. Tender. I wanted to resist him, tell him to get the fuck away from me, but I couldn’t. I’d missed his lips. So, so much.
Slowly I kissed him back. His fingers gripped my sweater and he pulled me to him. I wrapped my fingers in his hair. He deepened the kiss, opening my mouth, and every feeling I’d pushed away over the past fifteen months came flooding back like he’d never been gone. Suddenly I couldn’t get close enough to him. I wanted him to make me feel, the way he’d always made me feel before. I needed it. Even if it was just one more time.
Austin stood and pulled me up with him, then lifted me in his arms. I lay against his chest, my hand near his heart. It beat rapidly. He carried me back to our cave and set me down next to the fire. Then he grabbed his suit coat and wrapped it around me.
It wasn’t the same as his arms, and I missed him, more than I cared to admit. But then again, I knew I’d been lying to keep myself from sinking into a pit of depression. Looking at him, seeing the way he looked at me, I knew he still cared. “Why did you leave?” I whispered.
He brought over a bottle of wine, two glasses, and a blanket and sat down. I waited while he wrapped the blanket around me and himself, opened the wine, and poured us each a glass.
I was still wet, but I was beginning to warm up.
Finally he spoke, a deep timbre that warmed me even more. “I’m from Texas. Did I ever tell you that?”
“No, but you always wore that cowboy hat. I guessed either Texas, Colorado, or Wyoming.” I took a large gulp of the red wine.
He smirked. “Yeah, my mom and dad are from Austin, but I live in Dallas.”
I nodded, forcing myself to stay quiet.
He cleared his throat and shifted in the blanket. “I was married,” he finally whispered.
My mind screamed. No. No. No. No. No. Married? He said ‘was.’ Did that mean he wasn’t married any longer? “Was?” I asked, finishing off the wine, grabbing the bottle, and refilling my glass. I had a feeling I’d need it.
“Yes. We married right out of high school, attended college together. Started our careers together.” He smiled and my heart shattered.
“What happened?”
He gulped down the rest of his drink. “She died,” he finally said.
That surprised me. “I-I’m sorry, Austin.” I took another drink. Is that why he left suddenly? Had he left her and she died? Was it my fault?
He stared into the fire, the flames dancing in his faraway eyes. “She was the love of my life. I knew with absolute certainty there would never be another woman for me…” He trailed off.
I stopped breathing.
What did that make me? A booty call? Had he come back to try and forget her? That seemed like a lot of work. The man was extraordinarily handsome. I had no doubt droves of women wanted him. So maybe it was guilt. He came back to tell me he was sorry he’d left abruptly.
But I didn’t want to hear that. I realized the only words I wanted to hear from Austin were words that meant we were supposed to be together.
His wife had been the love of his life, but Austin was the love of mine, regardless how little time I had left.
God, it hurt. The fucking knowing.
And what if he did love me, care for me enough to stay? Could I selfishly allow him to do that?
Of course not. I was already leaving a daughter behind, parentless… Except, if I told him about Emma, then maybe he’d love her, take care of her, and she’d have a dad.
Austin scooted closer and touched my face. I quivered with longing. I wanted him. I needed him. He leaned in and kissed—
“No, wait.” I needed to think. I scrambled out of the blanket. It didn’t matter anymore why he left those many months ago, only that he was back. My mom and sisters were right. He needed to know about Emma.
“Austin, there’s something I need to tell you.”
“Alright, but first I need to say something to you. It’s important.”
I swallowed and nodded. “Okay. What?” Now that I’d decided to tell him about Emma, I just wanted to get it out, get it over with. He’d either be happy about knowing or he wouldn’t be, but I had to tell him.
Austin wrapped his arms around me. “She died before I met you. I came to Bandon to get away, to forget, and I found you, but I was worried that my fee
lings for you weren’t real, that they were my way of dealing with my loss. I worried that I’d transferred my feelings for Laura onto you.” He reached out a hand and when I took it, he pulled me next to him, pressing his forehead against mine. He closed his eyes and held my face between his hands. The grief on his face was palpable and I wanted to comfort him. Before I could he said, “I had to leave here—you—to make sure. I needed to get over her before I could truly gauge my feelings for you. And now I know. I love you, Willow. More than I could believe. And God I’ve missed you.”
Tears sprang into my eyes. I was sad and happy at the same time.
“Will? Willow. Don’t cry. I’m sorry I left. Can you ever forgive me?” He pressed his mouth on mine hard, full of desire, and I responded in kind. God help me, I wanted him, all of him, for as long as possible.
I didn’t want to think, didn’t want to debate the consequences. I just wanted to feel. His lips on mine, his naked body against mine. Him inside. I unbuttoned his wet shirt and pulled at his tie. He smiled against my lips.
“Let me help.” He dragged his tie over his head and tossed it to the ground along with his shirt. I watched him, overwhelmed by how fucking hot he was, mesmerized by the muscles along his chest, abs, and arms. He smiled. “Take off that wet sweater, Will.”
I sprung into action, unwrapping the red scarf and placing it carefully on a dry rock. My sweater came off next, exposing my pink lace bra underneath. My nipples immediately responded to the cold air. Austin’s eyes went dark with lust and the knowledge that he wanted me sent a wave of delicious longing through me.
After that it was a tangle of shoes, arms and legs. He spread out the blanket and we lay down side by side. He rolled on top of me, his hard naked flesh pressed against mine. Our lips came together and he pressed my mouth open, tasting, flicking, and sending embers of longing and wetness into the most sensual part of me. I spread my legs and he settled between them, sliding inside me, filling me.
