In Too Deep (The Exes #8)

by Cheryl Douglas

I felt him pulsing inside me, the fire licking my insides as I imagined him filling me, giving me the best gift a man could give a woman desperate for a baby.

  Our expressions were both somber when he finally drew me close, resting my forehead against his shoulder while his hand closed around the back of my neck.

  “Thank you for doing this for me,” I whispered before tasting his salty skin. “Not just the baby thing. All of it. After the way I ended things, you sure as hell don’t owe me anything.”

  Yet he was here, trying to make my life better and give me everything I’d always wanted. And I didn’t know what to do with that truth. I wasn’t used to people doing things for me. I’d survived by being independent and strong, yet I was asking him for something huge. It was scary and kind of liberating at the same time. It made me feel less alone.

  “You’re not the only one who gets something out of this, beautiful. I do too.” He pulled back, looking at me. “I hope she has your eyes.”

  If I was a crier, that might have been the hot burn of tears I felt sting my eyes, but since I wasn’t, it must have been allergies.

  “How do you know it’ll be a girl?” My voice was low, as though we were sharing a precious secret.

  “I hope it will.”

  “Really?” My hands coasted over his abs, because really, there was no way to stand this close to the man and not feel him up. “I thought most guys hoped for sons.”

  “I’d like that too,” he said, disarming me with a sexy grin. “Maybe one of each?”

  I laughed, slapping his rock-hard chest. “Pretty sure of yourself, aren’t you? What makes you so sure we’ll still like each other after the first one?”

  “Is that what you’re afraid of?” he asked, his voice painfully soft. “That we’ll end up hating each other like your parents did? Is that why you were afraid to move in with me when I asked?”

  He knew too much. I could see it in his eyes, so there was no point lying. “I guess.”

  “It’s not like that for everyone, you know. My parents were in love ‘til the day my mother died.”

  “Lucky you,” I muttered, feeling even more exposed since we were having this intimate conversation while buck naked. “Most people can’t say that.”

  “Would you honestly rather live the rest of your life alone than take a chance that maybe you could be one of the lucky ones?”

  “Yes.” My answer was automatic. I didn’t even have to think about it. But the aftereffects burned worse than whisky. I didn’t want to be a cynical bitch. Circumstances beyond my control had made me who I was.

  “Why?” There was pain in his blue eyes.

  I knew he hurt for me, but I didn’t want his sympathy. The last thing I wanted was for anyone to feel sorry for me. I wanted his respect and admiration, not his pity. Never his pity.

  I fastened my bra and reached past him for my shirt. I slipped my arms through it, refusing to look at him as I muttered, “Some people get their happy endings and some people don’t, West. It’s cool. I know which camp I fall into. I’m no Cinder-fucking-rella, okay?”

  I was getting pissed, and I didn’t want to be angry. Anger meant something unwanted was bubbling up inside me, like pain or disappointment or fear. I couldn’t have that.

  “What are you so afraid of?” He placed my hand on his chest. “You know me. You know I’d never hurt you.”

  “Not intentionally.” Feeling I had to walk away from him, like I had no other choice, hurt like a son of a bitch. I didn’t think I could go through that again. “But sometimes we hurt people without meaning to.”

  “Did I hurt you?” he asked, seeming genuinely concerned. He was frowning, waiting for me to explain, but I couldn’t let myself go there. “Tell me.”

  “I’ve never felt like that before,” I admitted. I bent to reach for my panties, tossing him his shirt in the process. We seriously had to put on some clothes if he expected me to string two words together. “It was hard, being like that with you.”

  He followed my lead and started dressing. “Like what?”

  “Vulnerable.”

  His laugh was more of bark of derision. “You vulnerable? Be serious, baby.”

  “I am being serious.”

  He may not have seen that side of me, because I wouldn’t let him, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t close to the surface. Hell, it became impossible for me to bury those feelings toward the end of our relationship. That was why I finally broke up with him. Living in a constant state of fear, believing I could lose him any day, had been slowly killing me.

  “You saw more of me than anyone ever has, West.”

  “You mean that?” he asked, curling his hand around my cheek, refusing to let me look away.

  “Yes.”

  He stole my breath as he kissed my forehead. “In that case, thank you.”

  Chapter Five

  West

  We’d accomplished a lot at Shani’s office, aside from the sex, which was spec-fucking-tacular. But she was right about needing my help. While she clearly knew what she was doing and was good at her job, she was shit at running a business. I was surprised she hadn’t been audited by the IRS, since her bookkeeping system consisted of a huge jar on her desk stuffed with receipts.

  I’d invited her over to my place for pizza when I heard her stomach grumbling after we’d spent hours hammering out the specifics of her business plan, which she complained was a waste of time.

  “What do you want to watch?” I asked, reaching for the remote.

  She grinned. “Hockey.”

  “Bitch,” I muttered, since my team had already been eliminated from the playoffs.

  She laughed. “You’re just a sore loser, Travis.”

  “You love Chicago so much, why don’t you move back there?” I was just busting her chops, but the way her eyes darkened, I knew I’d struck a nerve. “I’m sorry, I—”

  “I would have,” she said, wiping her fingers with a paper napkin. “But I brought my sister here to live with me after our mom died. I thought if I got her away from that crowd, she’d be able to get off the drugs.”

  “Shit, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.” Because she hadn’t told me. I had been her boyfriend for two fucking years! Why hadn’t she told me this shit? But more importantly, why was she telling me now?

  “It’s okay.” She shook her head slowly, staring at the screen when I turned it to the game. “I couldn’t leave her all alone here. I thought about it. After we broke up and I left the force, I thought it would be easier to start over in a place I’d once loved.”

  “Maybe it would have been, but I’m glad you stayed.” If she could be honest, I could too.

  She side-eyed me, pulling her legs into her body while resting her feet on the cushion. “You mean that? You’re glad I’m still here?”

  “Of course I am. Why would you ask me that?”

  “You don’t hate me?” She held her fingers a fraction of an inch apart. “Not even a little?”

  “What the hell? You honestly think that?” I shifted so I was facing her. “Were you trying to make me hate you? Is that why you broke up with me?”

  She shook her head slowly, biting her lip. “I just assumed you would. Isn’t that how all relationships end?”

  “No.”

  “Yes, they do. Amicable breakups are bullshit and you know it.”

  “Funny, I think that’s the very word you used when you told me it was over.”

  “Because I knew you’d hate it,” she said. “I was waiting for you to tell me to go fuck myself.”

  “But I didn’t.”

  “No, you didn’t.”

  I’d told her that I wished things could have been different and I’d always care about her. Deep down, I’d been pissed that she wouldn’t fight harder for us, but I’d refused to give her the rage she expected from me.

  “Were you scared about reaching out to me again?” I asked.

  I thought about the first message I’d received from her on social
media. We’d exchanged dozens a day for a couple of months. I was intrigued to say the least. That’s why when she suggested dinner if she won the bet, I was all over it. It had been a long time since I’d been intrigued by a woman—six years to be exact.

  “Terrified,” she whispered, as though she was revealing top secret information against her will.

  “Did you think about backing out?”

  “About a hundred times.”

  “So why didn’t you?”

  She looked at me, heartbreak evident in those gorgeous hazel eyes for the first time. “Because I really want a baby and it feels like you’re the only one who can give it to me.”

  My heart ached for all this woman had been through, but I knew she’d castrate me if I expressed pity, so I made a joke to lighten the mood. “Pretty sure there are millions of men who’d be happy to help you out, sweetheart.” And I’d kick the shit out of anyone who tried. “Not that you’d have as much fun with any of them.”

  “It has been fun,” she admitted, staring at the screen. “Reconnecting with you again.”

  “Oh yeah?” I leaned in, whispering in her ear, “What was your favorite part?”

  She chuckled. “The naked parts.”

  “How’d I know you’d say that?”

  “Because I’m just using you for your body, remember?”

  Ouch. That hurt like a son of a bitch because I was afraid it was true. “Right, how could I forget?”

  She looked at me, her eyes traveling over my face before resting on my mouth. “That’s not true, West. I hope you know that. You’re one of the best friends I’ve ever had.”

  Like an arrow through the fucking heart, that was. Because I felt exactly the same way. “So why didn’t we try to be friends after we broke up?”

  She wrinkled her nose as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “You know shit like that never works.”

  She was right. If I’d had to hear about the other assholes she’d been dating, I would have become a homicidal maniac.

  “Guess you’re right.” I picked up a piece of cold pizza and tossed it back in the box when I decided I didn’t really want it. What I wanted was to wrap my arms around her and haul her back against my chest while I cheered on the opposing team just to piss her off. But cuddling wasn’t allowed. There were limits to our arrangement. It wasn’t a relationship like before. It was just… sex. With the first woman who’d ever made me want more than that.

  She groaned when her team drew a high-sticking penalty within the first three minutes.

  “You never told me, how’d you get into hockey?”

  She hesitated before she said, “I used to watch it with my dad. Every Saturday night, that was our thing. The only real time we ever spent together.”

  I was surprised that connection hadn’t turned her off to the sport. “Huh.”

  “Did I ever tell you he was a cop too?”

  She’d never told me anything about her father, except that he’d cheated on her mother and was the reason her mother had committed suicide. I suspected her mother’s problems had run deeper than a cheating spouse, but it wasn’t my place to suggest that. If it gave her comfort to find a reason in an inexplicable tragedy, I’d let her cling to that belief.

  “No, you didn’t.”

  “That’s why I wanted to become a cop.” At my look of surprise, she said, “Not because I wanted to be like him! Well, I did when I was little, before I knew what kind of man he was. I was so proud of him, ya know?” She rested her chin on her knees as she stared at the screen. “I’d watch him put on that uniform every day and think he was a hero for putting himself at risk for the sake of others. Like some kind of fucking superhero.”

  I hated that she still lived with so much resentment, but I couldn’t help her heal. That was something she’d have to work through on her own, but I liked to think talks like this might help, over time. She needed to get this shit out in the open, instead of keeping it locked inside.

  “There must have been a part of him that was heroic.” The anger that flashed in her eyes told me to tread lightly. “I just mean you don’t do that for a living unless you have a strong desire to help people.”

  “You think he wanted to help people?” she snarled. “That’s bullshit! All he wanted to do was hurt people! Look what he did to my mother and my sister. Do you know Katie only started using after she found out about his other family? Then when my mother killed herself…” She shook her head. “Everything spiralled out of control. That’s when I lost everything. Everyone.”

  I pulled her into my arms, not giving a shit if she tried to push me away. I was going to be there for her whether she felt she needed my support or not.

  “What are you doing?” she asked, her body stiff. “If you think I need comfort, I don’t. I’m fine with being alone. I like being alone. I don’t need family or—”

  “Then why do you want a baby so badly?” I thought about the things she’d said last night. She wanted this baby to be her family. She thought he or she could love her unconditionally and would never leave her. What she didn’t realize was she already had that someone in me.

  She breathed a few times, as though she was trying to gain control of her emotions. “I don’t know. It just feels right, I guess.”

  “Does being here with me feel right?” I knew that was a dangerous question. Pushing Shani too far could mean pushing her away again, but I was willing to take risks this time that had scared the hell out of me last time. I knew what living without her felt like. It hurt, but it didn’t kill me.

  She nodded against my chest, and I tightened my arms around her. She couldn’t say the words, but she didn’t have to. I’d have to take baby steps with this woman until she felt safe being back in my arms.

  “You tired?” I asked, knowing she’d had enough heavy conversation for one night.

  “Yeah.”

  “You want me to take you home?”

  She looked up at me, her eyes filling with tears she stubbornly refused to shed. “You think it would be okay if spent the night?”

  “It’s more than okay,” I whispered before kissing her forehead.

  ***

  Shani

  I woke up with West’s big muscular body curled around mine. We weren’t just cuddling—we were spooning, for Christ’s sake. Ugh! This was terrible. I wasn’t a spooner. So why did it feel so good that I wanted to burrow deeper under the covers and fall back asleep?

  “Morning, beautiful,” he whispered in my ear, kissing my temple.

  “You’re awake?” I grumbled.

  “Have been for a while. Just watching you sleep.”

  “Don’t say that. Makes you sound like a creepy stalker.”

  He laughed, smacking my ass. “In that case, I’ll get up and make you breakfast.”

  “Good, make yourself useful.” I loved messing with him.

  “I forgot what a bitch you can be before your first cup of coffee.”

  “Now that you know,” I said, snapping my fingers. “Hop to it. That coffee’s not going to make itself.”

  “There are coffee makers with timers, you know.” He pulled on a pair of black sweatpants. “That is a thing.”

  “If it weren’t, I wouldn’t be able to haul my sorry ass out of bed every morning.” I rolled on my back, stretching my arms overhead. I grinned when I caught him watching the sheet slip down, exposing my boobs. “Perv.”

  “You smile more now,” he said, looking serious. “I like that.”

  There had been a lot darkness in my life before. As much as I loved being on the force, I got in my car most days questioning whether I’d made a difference in anyone’s life. Now I knew I did. I was empowering women who’d been lied to and cheated on by someone they loved and thought they could trust to get out… while they still could.

  “I’m happier now,” I admitted, a little embarrassed to tell him the truth. “I like what I do and I have people in my life who get me.”

  He sat on the
edge of the bed, his eyes downcast. “I got you.”

  He did, maybe more than anyone else ever had. When he looked at me, it felt like he was seeing inside my soul. And that was scary as hell, but also a little exhilarating too.

  “I know,” I said.

  “You do?” He seemed surprised. When I nodded, his eyes strayed to mine. “But you still weren’t happy with me. Not like you are now.”

  “It takes more than a person to make you happy, West.”

  I wasn’t big on self-help or digging too deep—I was afraid of what I would uncover—but I knew that a happy life was multi-faceted and required a lot of different things to be working at the same time. One element, even one as hot as West, wasn’t enough.

  “What did it take to make you happy?” he asked, bringing my hand to his lips.

  The simple act of kissing my hand felt intimate somehow, but I didn’t pull away. The old me might have. “A new purpose. My business. Friends. More money. Clarity about what I wanted.” I was talking about the baby now, but with the way his eyes held mine, I knew I didn’t have to tell him that.

  “More money, huh?” He smirked. “You used to say money didn’t mean shit to you.”

  “More money means more independence, and I like that. It means not having to go to the bank if I want to grow my business or buy a car or whatever.”

  “Yeah, I know how much you hate to ask anyone for anything,” he said, his full lips twisting in amusement.

  “I asked you for something huge.” I let those words settle in before stunning him with a few more. “And I’m really glad I did.”

  “You are?”

  “Yeah, I am. Having you back in my life has been… nice.” I wrinkled my nose. “That’s not the right word. I hate that word.” Nice was a mundane word for boring people who didn’t give a shit.

  “You’re right,” he said, looking way too satisfied. “Amazing would be better. Or how about incredible? Mind-blowing?”

  “Shut up and make coffee!” I said, pushing on his chest and snatching my hand back. I liked that even our heavy conversations ended with levity. “And food. I’m starving.”