No. Please God, no.
I try to pull the sheet back up and over it.
Claire grabs it, pulling it away. “Wemme see!” She moves closer.
Tears sting the back of my eyes, and I wait for the disgust and fear to show on her beautiful face. My niece is going to hate looking at me, or worse—be afraid of me. Bile rises up my throat as I wait to hear how she’ll reply.
In true Claire fashion, she reaches out her hand, and her little fingers caress the gnarled skin from shoulder to wrist. “Hurt?” She’s gazing up at me. There’s not even a hint of discomfort on her face.
I shake my head and swallow through the cotton coating my throat.
“Wooks wike it hurts.” She is matter-of-fact.
“It doesn’t, honey.”
She nods and caresses it one more time, running over the bumps and valleys with a featherlight touch. It’s the most I’ve ever let anyone other than a doctor or one of my best friends touch the scarred skin.
Claire inspects it for a few more seconds, dipping her tiny fingers into the puckered holes and back out. Then she completely and utterly blows me away with her grace, love, and compassion.
She looks at me with her crystal-blue eyes, the same as her dad’s, leans toward my arm, and kisses my biceps right over a nasty patch of scars.
I close my eyes as the tears slip down my face.
“I kissed it better.” She smiles, proud of herself.
“It worked, honey. It’s all better.” My voice cracks, and I clear my throat so she can hear me.
She smiles wide. “Mommy magic.” She is referring to something I’ve heard Gigi say to her countless times when the children hurt themselves. She’d kiss their boo-boos and hurts and say those two words too.
“Yes, your mommy is magic, because she gave us you. I love you, honey.”
“I wuv you too, Auntie Kitty. Now I need cookies and a new bruh-ver.” Claire scrambles to stand and bounces on the bed until she flops to her bottom and slips off with the exuberance only a child can muster.
The laugher bubbles out of me, free and weightless. The first time I’ve felt lighter in months.
* * *
The second I enter the kitchen, Gigi rushes to me, her arm around my waist, pulling me out into the hallway.
“I did not invite him here. Apparently, they already had plans to discuss some business venture over breakfast, but I swear to God on my children’s lives, I didn’t know he’d be here.” Gigi’s speaking so fast she has to lean over and catch her breath when she’s done.
“What are you talking about?”
“It’s not my fault.” She wraps a hand around her belly.
“What’s not your fault?” I’m confused.
“There you two are. Come on, breakfast is already set,” Chase says while putting an arm over his wife’s shoulders and kissing her temple.
I walk around them to the kitchen. “Gigi was just apologizing to me for something—” And the words fall right out of my mouth when I see who’s sitting at the kitchen table eating a cherry-filled crepe.
He stands, looking like a tall drink of water. His blond hair falls across his forehead in sexy layers that say, I don’t give a fuck what my hair looks like, but it always looks amazing.
His scent wafts across the room. I’m surprised I didn’t smell it when I entered the hallway. Only one man I know smells of hay and the sea. A man who surfs as often as he rides his horses. Living directly on a swath of farmland bordered by the Pacific Ocean will give a person that unique scent. I must say, even now, it hits every single last one of my nerve endings from the roots of my hair down to my toes. Pleasant tingles of awareness and desire sprinkle out each pore, putting a static energy in the room anyone within a ten-foot radius could feel.
Carson’s eyes are crinkled around the edges. More lines haloing those baby blues than I like to see. He’s tired, worn out…but why?
“Hey, Sweetcheeks, didn’t expect to see you here, but always a pleasure.” His low, rumbling tone zips through me, calling back memories of making love, laughing until the wee hours of the morning, and whispered vows we’ve since broken.
Sweetcheeks. His nickname for me. Silly name from a silly man, but he loved my ass and told me as often as he groped it. I just loved him. Still do.
“Carson, it’s been a while.” I clench my teeth and batten down my emotions.
He nods, comes around the table, and stands before me. The entire room ceases to exist when he’s in it. As if everything around me has gotten smaller, farther away, and all I’m capable of seeing is him. The man I love. The man I’ll always love but can no longer have.
Carson lifts a hand to my face. With his thumb, he traces a path from my temple down to my chin and lifts it up. He leans forward and places a soft kiss to my lips. I gasp. He hasn’t made that gesture in two solid years. I’m so shocked by his nearness and the sheer connection pumping between us, I don’t move a single muscle. He brushes his lips along mine again. I lick my lips and just the hint of our tongues touch. He groans, and I pop back at the sound.
I lift my hand to my mouth and then shuffle around him. “Um, yes. So, uh, what are you doing here?” Sizzles of recognition and excitement whip along the surface of my skin.
Neither Chase nor Gillian have said a word. Both are standing quietly across the kitchen, leaning against the cabinets. Gigi looks like she’s been stunned stupid, whereas Chase has the biggest shit-eating grin on his face.
Jesus. Now he’s never going to stop hounding me about his cousin.
“Business concept we’ve been volleying back and forth.”
I nod and make myself busy by getting a cup of coffee. Without thinking, I go to grab the carafe with my right hand. I barely get the pot out when it starts to drop. Carson’s fast, though. He wraps a hand around mine holding the handle. Shoot. I haven’t tried to use that hand for something that heavy in a long time. His presence has knocked me off-kilter.
“Let me get that,” he says, plastering himself against my back. Carson never did have space issues, especially when it came to me. The closer the better, he always told me.
Together we pour the liquid into two cups I imagine were left out for us. He leans firmly against my behind. I can feel the outline of his pelvis and package against my ass and the warm strength of his chest against my back. God, I’ve missed this. Being close to him. To a living, breathing person. I close my eyes, soaking in every ounce of his presence and committing the sensations to my memory. I’ll need it later.
Once he puts the carafe back in the coffeemaker, he inhales deeply against my neck. Shivers ripple along my spine, and a long-forgotten fire smolders between my thighs.
“Christ, Sweetcheeks. I’ve missed your scent. Only it’s different…sunshine and…” He shifts my hair over to the side and rubs his nose along my neck.
The hairs on my nape stand at attention and my knees weaken. I brace myself up against the counter, fingers clenching the granite. He wraps both his hands over mine. The second he touches my scarred flesh, I stiffen.
He breathes against me, as if touching my scars doesn’t faze him. Stunned, I stand unmoving.
“Coconuts. You smell of coconuts.”
I bite into my lip and pray he steps back before I internally combust, or alternatively, burst into a puddle of tears. “Coconut oil. It’s good for the scars.”
“Mmm, I like it. Suits you.” He trails his nose up my neck once again and kisses my temple. Then he grabs his cup of coffee and backs away. I can hear his footsteps getting father away until the sound of chair legs skidding across the floor registers. He may be ten feet away now, but the impression of his warm body still resonates against my backside.
I close my eyes and calm my raging heart, allowing my brain to come back online.
Gillian comes over to me, plops a teaspoon of sugar into my coffee, and pours some of the homemade vanilla creamer Bentley makes especially for her into my cup. The spoon tinkling against the sides of the g
lass brings me back to reality.
“Over him, are you?” Gigi accuses.
“Yes,” I hiss and sip my coffee. The soothing vanilla and hot coffee ease the lusty beast inside me as I stare at Carson and Chase laughing it up while digging into their breakfast.
“What are you going to do?”
I jerk my head back. “Nothing. It’s over. We’re over.” I remind her as much as myself.
Gigi’s eyebrows rise up into her hairline. “You could have fooled me with the way he was pressed up against you, sniffing you. My God, that was so hot! Scenting you like that.” She fans her face dramatically.
I shake my head and hide behind my cup. She leans her shoulder against mine. “He’s yours for the taking, you know.”
If only that were true.
“It’s not meant to be,” I say with finality.
“Only because you won’t let it.”
CHAPTER FOUR
CARSON
“Goddamn, goddamn, goddamn it!” I pound against the steering wheel of my Range Rover until all the frustration seeps out of my bones in miserable heaps of negative energy.
“Why the fuck did she have to be there? Today of all days.” I blow out a harsh breath and lean my head on the steering wheel. Anxiety and desperation flow through me and out my fingertips with every breath.
Just when I think I’m getting over her, I see her again. Christ, she was a vision, too. Her golden hair is shorter, barely hitting her shoulders now. She had a long-sleeved shirt on, so I couldn’t see how the injury on her arm was faring, but her hand looked a little better. Her neck seemed great, the long column completely smooth. I wonder if the doctors have been able to fix the patches of burned flesh near her ribs and breast?
“Stop it, Carson. Just, stop it!” I chastise myself, pressing my fists against my eyes to relieve the instant ache.
Stop thinking about her as though you have the right to care.
Kathleen has spent the better part of three years pushing me away. Hell, that’s three times longer than I was with her, yet I can’t get the woman out of my mind. I’ve loved her since the day I first laid eyes on her. The night we met at a charity event on a blind date, set up by Gillian, sealed my fate. The moment I got my arms around her on the dance floor, her scent, essence, and very spirit seeped deep inside my soul. To this day, I have not been able to break free from it. But I have to. She’s made it clear she no longer wants me in her life.
Then why did she respond the way she did when I touched her?
I don’t know what came over me. Maybe it was because the lab’s receptionist had called to tell me the expedited test results would arrive via courier this afternoon. The thought of losing all freedom lit a fire within me, which had been dormant until I saw my Kathleen. And an hour from now, I’ll find out the results for good. I swallow and tighten my hands on the leather steering wheel.
How could I have fucked up so bad? Loss and grief is why. The death of the most important relationship in my entire life is what happened. Made me stupid, incapable of thinking straight. I drank too much and fucked the wrong woman.
Most of that evening over two years ago is still a total blur, except for the fight with Kathleen. The night has gone down as one of the worst of my entire life. The night I lost the woman I love forever.
* * *
“Carson, I don’t know how many times I have to say it. We’re over. There’s nothing you can do or say that’s ever going to change the situation. I’m not the woman for you.”
“Bullshit, Kat, and you know it as well as I do!”
Her arms are crossed over her chest protectively. A shawl hangs over her shoulders, covering the worst of her burns. She never lets the skin see the light of day. Well, not in front of me anyway. Her hair—a golden array of blond, light brown, and copper—is long, hanging down to the middle of her back and flowing all around her upper body. Her eyes are the most beautiful color, reminding me of caramel candies. The intensity within them shows determination and sadness in equal parts. Both of which I hate, because I know what that look means.
I loathe seeing this look in her eyes, knowing it’s for me. Usually, her focused stare would bring men far stronger and bigger than me down to their knees. In a single moment, she’s cut me apart, letting me bleed out until there is nothing left.
“You can’t want me to go. It’s always been you, Kathleen. Always.”
Her voice breaks into a sob. “Why can’t you leave me alone? There is no you and me. We’ve been over for a year now. Please, please, stop trying to convince me to see things your way.”
In a handful of steps, I get to her and curl a hand at her nape and the other around her hip. I don’t dare hold her by the arms.
“Kathleen Bennett, I adore you. Want to marry you. Have children with you. Grow old by your side…”
She shakes her head violently. “No. Stop. I can’t.” The tears pour down her cheeks.
“I don’t know why you insist on pushing me away. I don’t care about your scars! I don’t fucking care if you can’t stand to look at yourself, because it doesn’t matter, sweetheart. I see you. Me! The man who would do anything for you. The man falling at your feet to keep you.” I hit my knees, wrap my hands around her hips, and push my face against her abdomen.
“You have t-to g-go…” Her voice splinters as she holds on to her convictions and pushes me away.
I shake my head against her belly and rest my chin there while looking up into the most beautiful face I’ve ever known. I’ve kissed those pink lips until they were so swollen they’d turned red. I’ve nibbled that jawline, teasingly, lustfully. I’ve stared into those brown eyes and whispered my dreams for our life together. And it was heavenly. The most perfect life. I know beyond a shadow of doubt this woman is my be-all end-all. She is my fate.
“Carson…” She runs her fingers through my hair, her voice so lost I can barely hear her. “You deserve more, more than I can ever give you. I’m not me anymore. I’m not the woman you fell for.”
I close my eyes and kiss my way up the center of her chest until I have her lips. I cup both cheeks and take her lips with mine. Our tongues battle, fighting a war I am determined to win. She tastes of salty endings and the hope for new beginnings. With my heart in my hand and my lips on hers, I show her love—gut-wrenching, mind-altering, earth-shattering love.
Kathleen runs her hand up my chest, and with her scarred hand over my heart, I think maybe we can start again. But I am holding her close and she is shoving me away. Eventually, my mind clicks with my body and registers her struggles. She isn’t trying to get closer and take more. She is scratching, clawing, and pushing me away. In an instant, I let her go.
I let her go.
She stumbles back several feet, shaking her head. Her cheeks are a mess of tears and mascara. I don’t care. My Kathleen is a diamond in a sea of rocks. When she is happy, she sparkles so bright. Only, her tears are not joyful ones of reconciliation but rather distress and self-loathing.
“No. Carson, no. I’m done.”
I grip the roots of my hair tightly, wanting to feel the sting of pain as I pace her apartment. “This isn’t over.”
Her voice breaks. “It is. Forever.”
I stop and suck in a harsh breath. “Look me in my face and tell me you don’t love me.”
A torturous grimace falls across her features. She opens her mouth and then closes it again.
“Tell me you don’t love me, and I’ll go,” I roar, rushing to her.
She bites her lip as tears run in a river over her cheeks. “I can’t ever say that.”
“Exactly,” I grate through clenched teeth. “Then we’re not done. One day soon, you’re going to regret this decision. You’re going to think back to the one man who adores everything about you.” I point at her heart. “You.”
“I’m not me anymore.”
My lips hurt from pinching them together so tightly. “If you keep telling yourself that, you’re never going to find her.
Maybe you don’t want to. You seem happy to hole yourself up in this dark apartment, never letting the light in.”
“There is no sunshine anymore.”
“Open your eyes, Kat.” I cup her cheeks. “Open your fucking eyes. Let in the light. It’s there, waiting for you. I’m standing in it, holding my arms open for you, baby. Let me help you get there,” I plead.
Jesus, I’d strip myself of everything I know, jump into the fiery pits of hell, if she’d give me half a chance. The golden-caramel color in her stare fades, darkens, and with it, the glimmer of hope flickers out. I know she’s made her decision.
“Be happy, Carson. That’s all I’ve ever wanted for you. Find someone to share your life with. Let me go.” Her words are a whisper, but they could have been shouted through a bullhorn for the way they smash into me.
I take one last look at her and touch my mouth to hers. I will never forget the taste of sorrow on her lips.
“You’re going to regret this.”
She closes her eyes, distancing herself even more. “I already do. Now go.”
“You love me, Kathleen.” My own voice is so rough I wouldn’t be able to recognize it as my own if played back to me on a recorder.
Her eyes remain closed, her black lashes long and wet, tears still clinging to them.
“I know. Sometimes, Carson, love isn’t enough. Please…go,” she begs, desperation so thick in her tone it slices a fissure in my heart.
* * *
The woman I love had chosen to be dead to me, and there was nothing more I could do to bring her back. Even two years later, it hurts as much as if it had happened yesterday.
I shake my head as I drive through downtown San Francisco, leave the city, and head toward my beachfront home located on a ranch bordered on one side by the Pacific. Visions of the bar I went to when I left Kat’s apartment after our fight flash across my vision as I drive back to my place.
* * *
Six shots of whiskey, lined up one after another on the table in front of me.
Fate: A Trinity Novel: Book Five Page 4
