ALMOST EVERYTHING

by Williams, Mary J.

  “You drove to see your aunt after you made your escape?”

  India nodded.

  “Aunt Lu would hate what her body has become. I’m grateful for the care she’s received. Thankfully, the end is close. Her doctors told me she won’t last much longer.”

  “You didn’t have a choice.” The words felt like sharp barbs of sawdust in his mouth. “However, you could have told me.”

  “To what point?” India demanded. “Part of the bargain I made was to never see you. Yet, when you appeared out of nowhere, my first instinct was to forget everything else. I wanted to run away with you, Morgan. For my aunt, for you, I thought the best solution was to end things between us, once and for all.”

  “I see.”

  “Do you hate me?”

  India looked so damn brave—a prisoner before a firing squad. Morgan almost expected her to ask for a cigarette. But not a blindfold. She was too brave for her own damned good. She’d looked two devils in the eye and survived. Mentally battered, weary down to her soul. Yet, here she stood, prepared to take whatever punishment he chose to administer.

  God, she humbled him.

  “Well?” India stiffened her spine, her chin jutting out. “Tell me how you feel.”

  “You are the bravest person I’ve ever known.”

  Before his eyes, India seemed to wilt, then rise, lighter, freer. Morgan felt the same.

  “I love you.” Her breath caught in her throat. “But…”

  “Stop at I love you,” Morgan said. “Nothing else matters.”

  “You need to understand. Everything that’s happened. I’m not the same person you once knew.”

  “Wouldn’t make sense if you were.” Morgan shrugged. “Lord knows, I’ve changed.”

  Morgan stepped toward India. When he raised a hand to touch her face, she pulled back. Worried—terrified—he asked the one question he had hoped would be unnecessary.

  “Did Hallstrom abuse you?”

  “No. Not the way you mean.” India turned toward the fire; her arms wrapped tight around her body. “He sucked the life from me. Rather, to survive, I shut down my emotions. I do love you, Morgan. I just don’t think I’m capable of showing you in the way you deserve.”

  “Please. May I touch you? Just my hands?”

  India gave a halting nod. Morgan, suddenly nervous, lightly cupped India’s shoulders. She was tense, coiled like a Jack in the Box ready to pop. Worried she might explode, he kept a few feet of buffer between her body and his.

  “You hugged Joplin.”

  “She’s never seen me naked,” India said. “If she did, her expectation wouldn’t be sex.”

  Careful, not wanting to go too far, too fast, Morgan massaged India’s tense muscles with the tips of his fingers.

  “If I could hold you and nothing more, I’d be happy.”

  “Would you?” India shook her head. “I’d be miserable.”

  “Why?”

  “Because chances are good I’ll never be able to give what you deserve,” she said, her voice dripping with misery. “A normal sex life.”

  “What’s normal?” he asked.

  “I’m serious.” India broke away and moved across the room. “You were such a sexual creature.”

  “As were you,” Morgan reminded her.

  “You still are. While I’m… Broken.”

  Morgan knew he walked on delicate ground. In a day or so, he would suggest to India that she seek help from someone qualified to deal with mental and emotional trauma. Right now, he wanted to take the first small step and hoped he didn’t screw up.

  “Do you trust me? A little?”

  “Jumping into bed and having sex isn’t the answer,” India said. The idea made her grimace. “Unless you want to join me on the messed-up train to nowhere.”

  “Wow, you don’t trust me if you think sex is the only thing on my brain.”

  “Not the only thing,” India conceded. “A healthy sex life is good for muscle tone.”

  Morgan blinked, not sure what he just heard.

  “Did you just make a joke?”

  “Huh.” India seemed genuinely surprised. “Guess I did.”

  Grinning, Morgan felt a welcome wave of relief. If they could laugh, they were on a different trail than India referenced. Messed up, maybe. But they had someplace to go. Right back into each other’s arms.

  “You’ll stay here with Marcy and Sven. I’d offer my house, but we both know you’ll be happier here.”

  “Aren’t you lonely all alone in that big house?”

  “No.” Morgan chuckled. “Haven’t spent much time there.”

  “I should check into a hotel.” India rushed to explain. “Not because I’m afraid to sleep under the same roof as you. Joplin is here, you’re here. Sven and Marcy don’t need another houseguest.”

  “First. Joplin’s leaving tomorrow morning. Meant to go today, but Marcy talked her into another night. Which,” Morgan said. “Brings me to point number two. She and Sven love when the house is filled with people they care about.”

  “I dropped in without warning.”

  “Did anyone complain?” Morgan asked.

  “No.”

  “Look, if you’ll be more comfortable, I’ll get you a room at the Lake Darwell Inn.”

  “Comfort isn’t the point,” India insisted. “And, I can get my own room.”

  “With what?” he demanded. “You ran off in the middle of the night with one backpack? Filled with what? A change of clothes. Swallow your pride and save your money. Better yet, stay here.”

  Crossing her arms, India’s amber gaze narrowed to a slit.

  “Pride is important. Plus, don’t make assumptions. About the size of my bank account.”

  “For the love of all that’s holy,” Morgan grumbled. “I’m sorry. But, be honest. You didn’t have a trust fund. You don’t work. I doubt Hallstrom gave you much of an allowance.”

  “All true.”

  “Then how much money could you possibly have?”

  “One point three million. Give or take.” India shrugged.

  Morgan snapped his mouth shut before he drew flies.

  “Okay. My mistake.” He searched his mind for an explanation. “Did your aunt leave you her money?”

  “Aunt Lu isn’t dead,” India reminded him without rancor. “Because she didn’t leave a will, my father will get what’s left of her inheritance. She was generous with her money, so I don’t imagine there’s a lot left.”

  “Then how did you end up with so much?”

  “I discovered a hidden talent for the stock market. Didn’t take a lot to start, but in a few years, I accumulated a tidy amount. You might say I have the golden touch.”

  “Bit of an understatement,” Morgan said, thoroughly impressed.

  “As for this.” India picked up her backpack. “Want a peek?”

  Intrigued, Morgan opened the zipper. He let out a slow whistle.

  “Insurance in case the stock market falls?” he asked.

  “Payback,” she said. “I plan to sell everything and give the proceeds to charity. Allard won’t be happy.”

  “You are some woman, India.”

  “You’re some man. The best I’ve ever known.”

  Morgan opened his arms and held his breath as he waited to see if India accepted his invitation. She hesitated, but only a few seconds passed before she walked into his embrace. He wouldn’t say she was relaxed, but she did rest her head on his shoulder.

  Baby steps, Morgan thought.

  “One more thing,” he said. “I love you, too.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  ♫~♫~♫

  MORGAN OPENED THE rental car door while Joplin said her goodbyes. Marcy insisted on sending a supply of cookies. Sven made her promise not to be a stranger. India simply smiled.

  “The concert hall is booked for the middle of November,” Joplin said, hugging Morgan close. “I’ll
email the details—just in case.”

  “Waste of money,” Morgan warned.

  “Probably. Danny’s footing the bill. The seats will be full. Plenty of booze and food. If you and the rest of Razor’s Edge are a no-show, we’ll still have a party.”

  “I’m sorry, Joplin.” Morgan didn’t know what else to say.

  “One more thing—not about the reunion,” she assured him. “I asked Beck if I should tell you to call him.”

  “And?” Morgan held his breath.

  “Said he wouldn’t hang up if you did.”

  Morgan waited until Joplin drove out of sight to walk back to the house. Call Beck. The idea tempted him. However, he had something more important to take care of.

  Alone on the porch, he took India’s hand in his. She didn’t pull away. Progress.

  “Meet me at the pond in one hour?”

  “I don’t feel the need to scream—not today.”

  “Good to know.” Morgan chuckled. “I had something else in mind.”

  “Naked something?” she asked as a frown formed between her brows.

  “Trust me?”

  “Yes.”

  Morgan sighed with relief. Again, progress.

  “Then wait and see.”

  “Okay,” India said.

  “Okay.” Morgan nodded. “One hour. Don’t be late.”

  ♫~♫~♫

  INDIA WAS NERVOUS. A different kind of jitters than when she was a teenager on the brink of her first sexual encounter. As she approached the pond, her heart raced.

  Part of her wanted Morgan to walk away. Anything else wouldn’t be fair. To her surprise, a bigger part of her hoped she was wrong, and they were destined for more than a platonic relationship.

  Morgan wouldn’t force himself on her. He would be patient, gentle, loving. India smiled. Wonder of wonders, he still loved her. Or, loved her again. She didn’t know or care. Because she loved him back, she didn’t want to raise his expectations only to fail, miserably.

  “You think too much,” Morgan said as he walked from the cabin. “Faith can be a good thing.”

  “Faith in you?”

  “In yourself,” Morgan corrected. “I believe in us. Whatever version we settle on, long as we’re together, I’ll be happy.”

  But for how long? India kept the question to herself. Faith was hard, especially in herself.

  While India hadn’t hesitated to make use of the pond, she’d avoided the cabin on her weekly visits. Too many bright and shiny memories she didn’t want to tarnish. She stepped inside. Little had changed, but she had. No longer eighteen, she didn’t rush ahead. Instead, she held back and waited.

  “I love you, India.”

  “I know.”

  She took Morgan’s hand and let him lead her to the bed.

  “No one else matters. Just us. Will you lie with me, in my arms?”

  India nodded. She slipped off her shoes; Morgan did the same. Fully dressed, he stretched out onto his back. Taking a deep breath, she joined him. Curling up by his side, she rested her head on his chest. Threading his fingers through hers, he placed their hands over his heart.

  Thump, thump, thump. India could feel the beat against her palm, heavy and strong. Morgan was nervous, she realized. The knowledge comforted her, calming her racing heart.

  “Not so bad,” he said, tucking the blanket around them.

  “No.”

  Time ticked away. Logs crackled in the fireplace, the only break in the silence other than the gentle sound of Morgan breathing.

  “Touch yourself,” he whispered.

  India wasn’t alarmed by Morgan’s odd request. Instead, to her surprise, she felt a blush spread over her cheeks. She shook her head, grateful he couldn’t see her response.

  “Don’t be silly.”

  “You need to get to know your body again. What better way than to touch yourself. Remind yourself what makes you feel good rather than what doesn’t.”

  “I have all my clothes on,” she said, pointing out the obvious. “And you’ll know what I’m doing.”

  “Can’t see through the blanket.”

  “But you’ll know.”

  “You’re embarrassed.” His voice was low, soothing. “Understandable. What would help?”

  A thought popped into India’s head. Crazy, she knew. But intriguing.

  “Touch yourself.”

  India barely pushed the words past her lips, but Morgan heard. He chuckled, sending a vibration through his chest to her cheek.

  “There’s India,” he said. “You’re coming back, little by little.”

  Was she? India smiled. Yes, she was.

  “You want to watch?”

  “What?” India stuttered.

  What Morgan suggested shocked her—briefly. An old familiar feeling settled into the pit of her stomach like an old friend.

  “I’m not shy,” he said.

  “No kidding.” India snorted.

  “Say the word.”

  “Would you really?” She cleared her throat. “Let me watch?”

  Morgan pushed himself up against the headboard. Eyes locked with hers, he moved aside the blanket and slowly unzipped his jeans.

  “How much do you want to see?” he asked in a casual tone, as though he wanted to know her favorite color, not her voyeuristic pleasure. “Hidden hand action or the full monty?”

  “Hidden.” India gulped. “To start.”

  Morgan slid his hand under the band of his briefs.

  “Wait. I’m at a bad angle.”

  “Telling me what to do in bed?” Morgan grinned. “You’re back all right.”

  A wave of sexual self-confidence washed over India, and she reveled in the feeling. Propped up on her elbow, she licked her lips. Morgan groaned.

  “Again,” he begged.

  Seemed only fair for Morgan to have a request or two of his own. Running her tongue over her lower lip, India kept her gaze on his hand. Slow, more a brush than a caress, he took his time reminding her of when he would do the same to her.

  Though Morgan kept his hand from sight, on his body, not hers, India could almost feel his touch. With each movement, her blood heated. Less was more, she realized. Knowing what went on under a layer of thin cotton and thick denim was unbelievably erotic.

  Without thinking, India mimicked Morgan. First her fingers, then her hand found the bare skin under the hem of her shirt. Lower, lower, she gasped when she found her hot, wet center.

  Breath ragged, Morgan groaned, his eyes following her every move. The breathing synchronized; the room unbearably hot. India resented the clothes covering her body. She couldn’t take much more, couldn’t wait until…

  Every inch of Morgan’s body tightened, legs stiff, he called out her name. A rush of pleasure, intense, frightening, exciting, infused India’s blood, reaching from head to toe. She rode the wave until her muscles rebelled. She collapsed onto the bed, limp and happy.

  “You’re grinning,” Morgan said as he slid like melted butter to lie by her side.

  “Am I?” India touched her mouth. He was right.

  “May I hold you?”

  “Yes.” India scrambled to lie in Morgan’s arms. “Please.”

  “May I ask you a question,” he said after a few minutes of blissful basking. “No, two.”

  “More questions?” India heaved a hefty, teasing sigh. “If you must.”

  “Can’t remember why I didn’t ask at the time.” He smoothed back her hair, leaving a tender kiss on her forehead. “The first time we kissed. Why did you insist we go outside in the rain?”

  “Oh, brother,” India snorted. “The reason was embarrassing at the time. Now, I don’t think I want you to know.”

  “Come on,” he coaxed. “If you don’t, I won’t get any rest.”

  “Fine.” She laughed, at herself mostly and the silly girl she used to be. “I wanted to recreate a scene from my favorite movie.”
<
br />   “Which is?”

  “Was,” India corrected. “The Notebook. When Ryan Gosling kissed Rachel McAdams, I thought nothing could be more romantic.”

  “Glad I didn’t know at the time I had to live up to a movie kiss.” Morgan rubbed her arm. “How did I do?”

  “Blew Ryan Whatshisname out of the freaking water.”

  “Good answer.”

  Morgan kissed her. Their first kiss in five years. India didn’t think to pull away. She didn’t think, period. All she did was feel and when he lifted his head, she asked for more.

  “Happy to oblige.”

  The sun’s light faded, leaving only the fire to brighten the room. India and Morgan didn’t notice. Happy, content, jubilant. They didn’t make love. Not today. But soon.

  “Second question.”

  India groaned.

  “You never forget, do you.”

  “Never,” Morgan said. He kissed the end of her nose. “And I never will.”

  India knew what he meant. Almost a decade later. He didn’t forget her. He tried his best. As did she. In the end, nothing could keep them apart.

  “One last question—for today.”

  “What was the wish you made, right here, on your eighteenth birthday?”

  India’s heart felt ready to burst from her chest. Her birthday wish seemed like a lifetime ago. In a way, it was. Yet, the memory came flooding back as if time stood still.

  “I wanted one thing,” India said. “To be with you. Forever.”

  “Now I’m glad you didn’t tell me at the time.” Morgan brought her hand to his lips. “You waited.”

  India snuggled close to the man she loved.

  “And my dream came true.”

  EPILOGUE

  ♫~♫~♫

  WHEN THE DOMINOES began to fall, the government, for once, was fast and efficient. Allard Hallstrom and Rance Curtis were arrested on the same day, minutes apart. When Morgan received a head’s up, he made certain India was there to witness her soon-to-be ex-husband as he was taken away in handcuffs.

  If he could have spared her from her mother’s wrath, he would have. India didn’t give him a chance. She willingly listened as Aurora Curtis, sequestered at a spa in Arizona, raised holy hell and blamed her daughter for everything from Rance’s misfortune to global warming.