by M. S. Parker
I might have agreed that resting was a good idea, but I wasn't tired. Now that I was alone, my stomach began to tie itself in knots. I'd accepted living in the eighteenth century, accepted never seeing my family again. I'd even accepted, tragic as it was, the death of my son.
Now, all of that had been turned upside-down. I was back in my own time. My family was here. And, impossibly, my husband and child were here. I wasn't sure what to think now, about anything.
I did, however, know three things for certain. I wanted to see my son. I loved my husband. And I loved my family.
I picked at the blanket, felt the IV tugging at my skin as I rubbed the rough cotton between my fingers. The room was cool and had the stale smell that came with air conditioning mingling with the sharp scent of a hospital burning my nose. I wasn't sure if it was the result of having been in a coma, or time travel, but everything seemed to feel more than usual. I needed that thought. The sensations told me that this was real, that I wasn't dreaming; they kept me grounded.
A noise caught my attention, pulling me out of the daze I'd drifted into. Gracen was back, but I was only looking at him for a few seconds before something else captured my attention. In fact, it was the only thing that could have kept me from watching him.
Pale eyes that were already transitioning from blue to gray. A head full of hair that wasn't black like his father's, but was already several shades darker than my own. He was sitting up in Gracen's arms, babbling and waving his hands.
My breath caught in my throat, tears burning my eyes again. He was perfect.
I'd been longing to hold him from the moment I found out that I was pregnant, and yet I couldn't quite bring myself to reach for him.
“What's wrong, Honor?” Gracen asked as he came closer.
“He doesn't know me.” I voiced my fear, knowing my husband would understand.
“He does know you.” Gracen leaned toward me so that I could take Alexander from him. “I have talked about you to him from the beginning, and once I found you, I brought him in to see you as often as I could.”
“Is that right?” I asked as I pulled my son close. “Do you know who I am?”
He laughed, grabbing at my hair with one little chubby hand. “Ma-ma-ma-ma.”
It was probably just a baby babbling, but it caused my tears to spill over just the same. “Mama,” I whispered. “Yes, sweetheart. I'm your mom.”
“He has been to see the doctor every month since we arrived,” Gracen assured me. “Everything is perfect. Size, weight. He is doing all of the things that a child of his age should do.”
I couldn't take my eyes off him. Now that I had him, I never wanted to let him go. My beautiful boy.
Except...
It seemed that since emerging from a coma, I’d been one step behind about everything, and it was true now as well. I'd instinctively understood the need to tread lightly when it came to who Gracen and I were to each other, but it hadn't clicked until this moment what it meant.
“What do my parents know about our relationship?” I asked.
“I could not tell them that we knew each other,” he said as he reached out to smooth down some of Alexander's unruly waves. “Not with them believing you missing for the eighteen months before you were found near Trenton. It would not do to have them looking too hard into where either of us were prior to December.”
He had a point.
“Do they know about Alexander?”
Gracen hesitated, then nodded. “They know I have a son.”
A pang went through me. “But not that he's mine.”
“No, love. I couldn't tell them that. Not without them asking questions.”
I nodded. I understood, but I still didn't like it. I kissed Alexander's forehead, smelled his shampoo.
“The story I have told is that, while living abroad in Europe for a few years, I had a drunken dalliance with a woman.” He flushed. “A single night that resulted in a son. She died due to complications during childbirth.”
The same way his first wife, Silva, had died.
“She had no family, no one to dispute my sole custody of our child.”
I closed my eyes, not wanting him to see how much it hurt to not be able to claim Alexander as my own. With my parents and this time period's technology, he needed a good story to keep anyone from looking too close. He'd done well.
“That means I can't take him home with me,” I said quietly. “He lives with you. Not me.”
“I am not asking you for anything, Honor.”
I raised my head at the flat tone in his voice. My arms reflexively tightened around my son as all sorts of warning bells started going off. “What does that mean?”
Gracen kept his eyes on Alexander. “Coming to this time together was never something we discussed. You have a life here.”
“Two years ago,” I cut in. “Two years ago, I had a life but no direction.”
He looked at me, his expression guarded. “You have parents. A brother. A fiancé.”
Shit. Bruce. I'd completely forgotten about him. In fact, I hadn't thought about him for a long time.
“I married you.” I reached for his hand. “I chose you.”
His fingers tightened around mine, but his smile was sad. “Is it a choice if you have no other option?”
My heart dropped.
“Are you saying that you don't want to be with me?”
His eyes widened. “Of course not.” He put his hand on my cheek. “Why would you think that?”
“Because you're acting like you don't know if I want you to be here.”
“I have been here for five months,” he said. “But this is not my time. I came here to be with you. So our son could know you. But I will not hold you to promises made before you knew–”
“Do you know what my first thought was when I realized I was here, in my time?” I interrupted. “That all I wanted was to get back to you. I love my parents and my brother, but you're my family. You and Alexander. The two of you are the most important people in my life. I would give everything else up just to be with you.”
Alexander laughed between us, his hand tugging at my hair as Gracen's hand slid around to the back of my neck. I tilted my head back, body thrumming in anticipation. The moment his lips touched mine, everything shifted into place. All the parts of my life that hadn't quite been complete, that hadn't quite fit...it all came together.
My family. My husband, born when America had been a British colony, and our son, born during the War for Independence. And me, a child of the twentieth century.
We'd figure out the details later.
Chapter 29
My parents thought we were moving too fast. Gracen and I thought six months was being generous.
It would've been nice if we could have gotten married again on our original anniversary, but that would've required us waiting almost a full year, and there was no way I would do that.
Especially since Gracen had been adamant about maintaining at least the appearance of propriety. Which meant we'd been living apart since I was discharged from the center. While it was frustrating not getting to fall asleep next to him, I had at least managed to convince him that we were still legally married, so sex was still on the table. That wasn't the part I was impatient about. I hated not being there for every moment of Alexander's life.
My family still believed that Alexander was Gracen's son, that his biological mother died when he was born. I would adopt him after the wedding, and I knew my family would never treat him any differently than any other grandchildren, but it hurt having to pretend. Once everything was legal, we'd never have to think about any of it again. We could leave the past in the past and focus on our future.
At least, that had been the plan Gracen and I came up with the night before I was released. We'd started it right away, having Gracen ask if he could contact me to make sure I was okay. That started us 'dating.' The proposal came mid-October, with the wedding scheduled for the twenty-third of December, a s
mall affair that would still be bigger than our first wedding.
And this time, my father would get to give me away.
“Are you sure this is what you want?” Mom asked as she fussed over the baby's breath in my hair. “Don't get me wrong, your father and I love Gracen and Alexander, but it's barely been half a year.”
“I love him,” I said. “And I love Alexander like he was mine.”
“It's just, you've had so many things change recently. You know the therapist told you not to rush into any life-changing decisions.”
She had, and I knew that's what it looked like from this end of things. I'd been advised to take it all slow. Ease back into the life I'd left. Live with my parents. Accept that things had changed.
What my family didn't understand was that I didn't want things to go back to the way they once were. I was more than fine with changes because I had Gracen and Alexander. Whatever life I built would have them at the center.
Over the past few months, I played the part though. I'd filled out the necessary police reports and dutifully gone to therapy to convince everyone that I'd been taken somewhere against my will, but that I didn't remember anything that would help lead to my captor. I gave vague impressions to make it seem like I'd been drugged. Shapes and colors, nothing concrete.
The case was still officially open, but with no forensics and no clues from me, the police hadn't given us much hope of finding out what happened to me. No surprise there, of course, but I'd known I needed to do it, not only for my parents' sake but also for the army. Technically, I was considered AWOL because no one knew what happened to me, but once all the paperwork was done, my status was changed to an honorable discharge.
My parents had been a little concerned when Gracen and I started dating, but their first solid clue that I hadn't planned on sitting back and resting was when I told them I'd enrolled in a couple online classes. I still wanted to be a pediatrician, but with those missing years, it would be more complicated to get my license, so I wanted to start right away.
That was when they decided I needed to have a 'talk' about everything. It was then that I realized that they thought I was making impulsive decisions as a reaction to the interruption of the life I had before. Not being able to re-enlist. Having to deal with issues getting my degree. Finding out that Bruce had gotten engaged less than a year after I disappeared.
I smiled now as I thought about it. Even if I'd never traveled back in time, I doubted I would have gone through with marrying Bruce. We'd already been on thin ice before my accident.
“I'm more certain of Gracen than I am about anything else,” I said truthfully. “We belong together, and more than that, we're good together. We make each other better.”
Mom smiled, some of the tension on her face easing. “We just want you to be happy, sweetheart.”
“I know.” I kissed her cheek. “Now, we better get out there, or Gracen will think I changed my mind.”
Some girls dreamed of big weddings, and that was fine and good for them, but I never really cared about any of that, as long as the people I loved were there. When I reached the back of the little chapel and took my father's arm, I knew that I had it all right here.
The ceremony was almost as simple as the first time, the words virtually identical. When my eyes met Gracen's, I knew that he was remembering as well. The ring he slid onto my finger was the same one I’d brought with me to my time. I didn't know how he'd gotten it back, but I was glad he had. That ring symbolized everything we'd gone through to get to this point, and having it back on my finger made my eyes well up with tears.
We hadn't planned a reception but rather went back to my parents' house for dinner and to get Alexander settled for the night. Gracen and I had agreed that we didn't want to do a huge honeymoon, not with Alexander still so young, but my parents had offered to watch him for the night so that we could have some privacy.
To my surprise, the town car Gracen had hired didn't take us back to his townhouse, heading instead toward the outskirts of the city.
“Where are we going?”
He grinned at me, eyes dancing. “I have a surprise for you.”
A pair of iron gates guarded the driveway we pulled into, confusing me even more, but as we rounded a bend and the mansion came into sight, I realized where we were.
“Is that...?”
“The Lightwood estate.”
“Why are we here?” I couldn't stop staring at it. While there'd clearly been some modernization done, it was still the same magnificent house I'd seen all those years ago.
“My father returned to England after Alexander disappeared,” Gracen explained. “Another family purchased it from him, but when they were ready to sell about fifty years ago, a trust bought it, as per instructions left by a woman named Alize St. James, nearly two hundred years ago. It has been maintained ever since, waiting for one Gracen St. James to come claim it.”
As we walked inside, a sense of deja vu washed over me, and I tightened my grip on Gracen's arm. I half expected Roston or Titus to appear from the shadows, telling us that we had no business being here.
“If you do not wish to live here, I understand, but I wanted our son to at least have a chance to see the legacy that should have been his.”
“It's perfect,” I said, kissing his cheek. “We can spend all of Christmas Eve making plans.”
“Christmas Eve?” He raised an eyebrow.
“I have better plans for tonight.” I stepped away from him, keeping my eyes on his as I backed into the parlor. Someone must have come in and started a fire because the room was warm, and low flames danced behind the glass grate. “The first of which is christening every single room in this house.”
The puzzled look on his face disappeared as soon as I unzipped my dress and let it drop to the floor. While a lot of modern fashion confounded Gracen, he hadn't taken long to appreciate lingerie, and I'd painstakingly picked out what I was going to wear under my simple wedding dress. Based on the heat I saw in his eyes, he approved of my choice.
I'd chosen to wear silver instead of white for my dress, going with a sleek silk sheath that I could wear to events in the future, so my strapless bra and panties matched. Made of sheer lace, they concealed very little, especially since I'd given myself a rare indulgence of being professionally waxed. Gracen was still getting used to smooth legs and underarms. For certain other areas of my anatomy, it was new.
“You're wearing far too many clothes,” I said with a coy smile.
His fingers fumbled with the unfamiliar buttons, but only for a few seconds before his usual grace returned. His shirt landed next to my dress, and his shoes joined mine. In some areas, Gracen's confidence had wavered with his lack of contemporary knowledge, but the bedroom wasn't one of those places.
He took my hand and led me over to the armchair closest to the fireplace. When I sat down, he went to his knees in front of me and pulled my legs over his shoulders. I shivered as he ran his tongue over the thin fabric, then gasped as his finger traced along my slit.
I leaned back in the chair and watched as he pulled aside my panties to press his mouth against bare skin. His dark waves brushed against the insides of my thighs, his fingers digging into my flesh. Moans fell from my lips as his tongue teased the most sensitive parts of me, and I tangled my fingers in his hair, rocking against him.
He brought me to climax quickly, sliding his fingers inside me even while my muscles were still trembling. His thumb stroked my clit, and he curled his fingers, rubbing by g-spot until the orgasm that had been fading came back even more intensely than before.
I cursed, back arching with the force of my release. Little sparks went off behind my eyelids as pleasure washed over me, and the tension of the day faded away. The tension of the past few months, actually. While I'd loved being reunited with my family, I couldn't deny I was looking forward to starting a new, boring year.
He stood, sliding his hands up my legs until he reached my hips. His eyes locked wit
h mine as he lifted me and moved us until he was sitting on the chair with me straddling his lap.
He leaned forward and placed a kiss between my breasts, his breath hot on my skin. I reached underneath me, making short work of his pants. I smiled as I closed my fingers around him. He'd gotten used to modern clothes, but still preferred to go without underwear. At moments like this, I was glad for fewer obstacles between us.
I stroked him slowly as his mouth moved across my breasts, using his teeth and lips to tease me through the lace. When he began to suck on my nipple, my grip tightened, and his teeth clamped down, causing my eyes to roll back in my head.
“I need to be inside you, love.” Gracen's accent, which had practically disappeared, still came back in moments of passion, and it never failed to turn me on.
I slowly lowered myself down, my body stretching to accommodate him, molding around him. I put my hands on his shoulders as I settled, nails digging into the muscles there. He put his hand on the small of my back, guiding me as we moved together. The friction and pressure against my already sensitive clit had me whimpering before long, that delicious pressure building quickly until it simmered just under the surface.
“Let go, love.” He kissed the side of my neck. “I'll be right behind you.”
I tilted my head back so he could mark my skin and closed my eyes so I could concentrate on all the things he made me feel. The places where his touches were gentle. Where his teeth stung. Hard and soft. Rough and smooth. All of the complexities of the man I loved.
I came again, suddenly enough to catch me off guard, and I fell forward. His arms wrapped around me, held me as he drove up into me with short thrusts. Twice. Three times. And then he groaned out my name, his face buried in my neck as his cock pulsed inside me.
“I love you,” he murmured as he smoothed down my hair. “So much.”
“I love you too.”
