She was humbled as he stood before her, bare and open in a way he’d never been with her before.
And she believed him.
She knew in her heart he was ready to make that change and stop sacrificing his family for his job—he’d proven that tonight, in the most significant way he possibly could. She knew it wasn’t going to be easy, that they had a lot of buried issues they still needed to work through. But she’d spend the rest of her life swimming in what-ifs and what-could’ve-beens if she turned her back on him—on what they could have—now.
“You’ve got a lot of making up to do.”
A slow smile spread across his face, his shoulders relaxing out of their stiff posture. “I’d better get started then.”
When he lowered his head this time and placed his lips to hers, she wasn’t scared or nervous or apprehensive. She wasn’t counting down the days until it would inevitably be over. She simply basked in him and his mouth and the knowledge that he loved her...wanted to spend the rest of his life showing her just how much.
And she was going to let him.
Epilogue
The lights of the Christmas tree bathed the room in a soft white glow. The massive spruce was nearly triple the size of the pitiful excuse for a Christmas tree he’d had in his condo. That seemed like a lifetime ago, and the three years since then had been filled with enough to merit the thought.
Propped up on his elbow, Logan looked down at his sleeping wife. It was a miracle, really, they could both still fit comfortably on the couch, but they managed. Barely.
The movie playing was only half over, but he’d stopped watching long ago, instead getting distracted by the sexy-as-sin—even at seven months pregnant—woman who lay stretched out beside him. His hand covered the expanse of her growing belly, and as if knowing he had someone to show off for, his son kicked back. Logan couldn’t conceal his smile, and he didn’t even try.
He’d missed this with Sophie, since he and Brooke had already been split when she found out she was pregnant. He didn’t get to do the 3 a.m. ice cream runs or the foot rubs or the doctor appointments. And though some of his friends bitched and moaned about it, he wasn’t complaining. He sometimes still couldn’t believe his luck. The knowledge that he’d almost managed to let this life slip through his fingers, not once but twice, kept him thankful every day.
Lowering his head, he brushed a kiss at the bare skin of Claire’s shoulder, the wide neckline of his T-shirt hanging off her frame. She roused, stretching, then looked back at him. “Oh, crap. I fell asleep again, didn’t I?”
He grinned at her scowl, dropping a kiss to her pouting lips. “You’ve seen this a hundred times. You’re not missing anything.”
“I know, but this is a tradition. Snuggle on the couch by the lights of the Christmas tree, watch a movie, and then...well, you know...”
“Well,” he said lowly as he painted kisses up and down her neck, “the ‘you know’ is still on the table. Sophie’s sleeping and I stopped paying attention to the movie a while ago.”
She wore only a small pair of panties and his T-shirt, and he smiled at the easy access, slipping his hand under her shirt. First he caressed her hip, then slid his hand up over her belly growing with his baby until he reached her breasts. He ran his thumb over her nipples while he whispered against her ear—words of love and lust and hunger. Relaxing against him, she breathed out a contented sigh, and he knew he had her. He went to work making her feel good, spending time on her tender but over-sensitized breasts before trailing his fingers lower on her body.
Instead of making her get up so he could remove the only barrier keeping him from the heaven between her legs, he simply moved her panties to the side and slid a finger inside her, finding her wet and ready for him.
“Logan...”
He still hadn’t tired of that. How she said his name all breathless and strung tight with need.
“I’ve got you, baby. Let me take care of you.”
She rocked her hips to meet the pumping of his hand as he added another finger, and then another, until she was prepared to take every inch of him. When he removed his fingers, she let out a frustrated growl, but before she could voice her complaint, he pulled down the front of his drawstring pants, gripping his cock before guiding it to her pussy and thrusting slowly forward.
“Oh, God, yes,” she groaned quietly into the couch. In the three years of living with an ever-curious now ten-year-old, Claire had gotten much better at muffling her pleasure. He still missed that, sometimes—her unrestrained reactions—but this, too, was hot in its own right. The secretive and sometimes frenzied way they came together, like if they didn’t grab the opportunity when they could, however they could, it might slip by.
Gripping her hip, he pumped slowly in and out, filling her as deeply as he could. Her head tipped back to him, and he found her neck with his lips. He shifted slightly, and at this next thrust, she cried out.
He smiled against her neck. “There, baby? Did I find the sweet spot?”
Her garbled murmur was lost somewhere in his mouth as he lifted his head and covered her lips with his, increasing the pace of his thrusts as he helped push her toward her release. Reaching down, he gripped her thigh, pulling her leg over his and opening her up to him. He slipped his fingers into her panties, finding her wet and swollen. He rubbed and circled her clit in time with his thrusts, trying hard not to get lost in the erratic pulsing of her pussy, holding off until her groans filled his mouth, her entire body stiffening as she found her pleasure.
“Christ, you feel good. Fuck...”
And then he pushed into her, giving over to his own release, his mouth opened against her neck in a silent groan. As his breathing evened out, he melted into a pile of boneless limbs, sandwiched between the back of the couch and his extremely sated wife.
“Mmm...nothing better than sex under the Christmas tree.”
He laughed lowly. “Well, we weren’t quite under the tree this time.”
She shrugged. “Close enough. I’m lucky I’m still able to get up from the couch, let alone the floor.”
“I’ll be there to help you up as long as you need, baby.”
Turning to look at him over her shoulder, the emotion in her eyes told him she wasn’t just talking about pregnancy woes when she answered. “I know you will.”
It’d been a long, hard fought battle to get where they were. Even the last three years hadn’t been without its struggles and fights, both of them finding their way in this relationship filled with new—but better—expectations. But that was okay. That meant they didn’t take a single day for granted. Not a single moment.
He cherished every second with her and thanked every Deity there was that she’d possessed enough forgiveness in her heart to give him that second chance.
Because without it—without her—he’d be nothing.
* * * * *
In the mood for another feel-good contemporary romance?
Then look no further than Plus One by Brighton Walsh, available now!
Plus One
Olivia hates the singles scene, so when her best guy friend, Ian, offers to be her plus one to a series of weddings she has to attend, she agrees. Although she doesn’t want to complicate their lifelong friendship, she can’t pass up the chance to have a steady date without the dating drama. What she doesn’t expect is to now find Ian so incredibly sexy.
When Ian sees his old friend Olivia dolled up for wedding #1, the boyhood crush he once nurtured transforms into smoldering attraction. It doesn’t take long for their no-strings arrangement to turn physical. But as Olivia’s desire to stay “just friends” becomes clear, Ian’s feelings are deepening. In the time they have together, how will Ian convince Olivia that one plus one can make for a lifelong pair?
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About the Author
Brighton Walsh is a storyteller at heart. Whether through words or pictures, she’s been weaving tales for as long as she can remember. After decades of cultivating her writing, she finally decided to give life to the voices in her head and set forth to write her first novella. Love is her first love, and writing about it is a dream come true.
When she’s not overwhelmed by the incessant chatter in her mind, she can generally be found with her nose buried in a steamy book or partaking in some retail therapy. The setting of her life story takes place in the Midwest; characters include her very own real-life hero in her supportive and swoony husband, and her two energetic kids who (fortunately) know nothing about the naughty things she puts down on paper. Find her online at www.brightonwalsh.com and on Twitter @WriteAsRain_.
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ISBN-13: 9781426897597
SEASON OF SECOND CHANCES
Copyright © 2013 by Brighton Walsh
Edited by Angela James
All rights reserved. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.
All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.
This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
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