Deepen The Kiss

by Willow Winters

  “I heard what you said.” The memory comes back, and it hurts so damn much.

  “I’m sorry, Grace.” He holds my gaze, and I feel it. I feel his sincerity.

  It’s quiet a long time, the sound of my heart beating faster and faster filling my ears.

  “Why’d you come back to the bar, sweetheart? I thought it was over. I never should have said it, but I thought we were over. I was angry, and I shouldn’t have said it. And I’m sorry. But I want you, and if you came in to see me I know it's because you want the same, please take me back.” His words are genuine and sincere. I can almost imagine how he’s rehearsed them. Had today not happened, I would be running into his arms. But that’s not how real life works.

  “I came in to tell you… I…” I have to suck in a deep breath and stare at the ceiling to tell him. “I was pregnant,” I say. Even though I thought I cried all the tears earlier, my eyes well up.

  Charlie blinks a few times. “What?”

  “I was pregnant. With… with your baby. But I’m not anymore.” A tear escapes, making its way down my cheek. I wipe it away with the back of my hand. It’s the most clinical way I can get it out, but the words have left my lips and I watch his face as he registers what I've just confessed.

  “What the hell, Grace? You didn’t tell me!” he says, getting to his feet.

  “I know. I couldn’t figure out…” I pause, and take a breath. “Nothing sounded right.”

  Even to my ears, it sounds lame. Charlie has a perplexed expression on his face. He paces a moment without saying anything and then comes over to the bed and sits down, the bed creaking under him.

  He searches my eyes for a moment and then takes my hand, looking at me fiercely.

  “What happened, then? Where— I mean, why is there… no baby?” he says, his brow knit. There’s pain in his question, and it makes me feel weak.

  The damn holding my tears at bay finally breaks, and they’re soon running down my face. I sound hysterical as I answer, “I had a m-miscarriage.”

  “When?” he asks calmly.

  “Today! Now!” I say, flailing. I can’t help the emotion, but Charlie doesn’t react to the hysterics.

  Charlie traps my hands and pulls me closer, wrapping his arms around me. His comforting heat is more than welcome. I lean into him. He holds me for a moment, and all I want to do is climb into his lap as he kisses my hair.

  “Are you… are you hurting?” he asks, looking serious.

  I nod. “The doctor wrote me a prescription for pain medication, but I didn’t fill it.”

  “You have the script, though?”

  “It’s in my purse, I think.”

  He nods, taking a minute to run his hand through my hair. It’s a soothing gesture, like my mom used to do to me as a child.

  “Grace, I’m so sorry baby,” he murmurs, smoothing his hand over my back. “I honestly am.”

  I bury my head against his chest, soaking his shirt with my tears. His scent is strong and masculine. Sucking in a deep gulp of air, I try to breathe it in despite my runny nose.

  “I wish you had told me that all of this was going on,” he murmurs. “I could’ve… I don’t know… helped, somehow. I can’t do anything now, and it’s killing me to watch you suffer.”

  “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I couldn’t,” I whisper. “I was going tell you when I went to the bar, until I heard what you said. After… I couldn’t. I just couldn’t.”

  He shifts on the bed, moving around so that he’s laying down with his feet pointing the right way. He gestures for me to lie beside him, so I do. I lie down, and he spoons me.

  For the first time since I realized I was having a miscarriage, my grief lessens just a little. The simplicity of it stuns me, lulls me into quietude.

  He pulls the comforter up over us both, then wraps his arms around me.

  “I’m going to hold you. I hope that’s okay,” he says, his breath warm against my ear.

  I don’t say anything. No agreement, but no screams of protest either. Charlie has hurt me before, and I haven’t forgotten that.

  But, for now anyway, his presence is welcome in my bed. As my eyelids grow heavy, I know that I'll have a lot to figure out later…

  But at this moment, wrapped in Charlie’s arms, I feel safe and warm.

  CHAPTER 38

  Charlie

  * * *

  IT’S NOT the sunlight that wakes me. It’s not my alarm clock, or the nagging feeling in the pit of my stomach. It’s the instant knowledge that she’s in my arms.

  Maybe I was dreaming of her, I don’t know. But in one second, I knew it was real, she was here and I had to wake up. I had to be awake to take her in and make sure I still had her.

  I lost her once, and I’ll never lose her again.

  Never.

  She shifts slightly, her soft body going a bit stiff. I can feel the warmth from her, but there’s space between us.

  Too much space.

  Especially knowing… I can’t believe she went through all that alone. My heart clenches as I wrap my arm around her and pull her closer to me. Nestling her ass right where it belongs, up against me. I lean forward, planting a kiss on her slender neck and waiting for her to turn to face me.

  The sheets rustle as she shifts slightly and then rolls fully in my arms so we’re face to face. Those beautiful lips of hers turn up slightly, but it’s a sad smile. My heart drops in my chest. I know that look in her pale blue eyes. It’s a look that says it’s over.

  But I’ll be damned if I let it happen.

  “Charlie,” she starts, her eyes falling to the pillow as she pushes her messy hair out of her face.

  “Whatever it is, I’ll fix it.” My voice is flat and hard, leaving no room for negotiation. Her eyes dart up to mine with a flash of something, something that’s gone before I can recognize it. And then there’s a familiar look staring back at me as she narrows her eyes. A challenge.

  “It’s just fun?” Her eyes search mine as she takes in a slow breath.

  I try to steady my own breathing, wanting nothing more than to take her right here and now, but her eyes are holding me in place. They see through me, willing me to give her more.

  “I want you,” I breathe my answer. I’ve never wanted someone or something so damn much. Nothing more than I want her right here, right now.

  “For what?” there’s a vulnerability in her eyes as she swallows thickly and adds, “Just for now?”

  “I don’t know,” I answer quickly, not wanting to think.

  She pushes me away, just enough to move her hands from in between us.

  “I can’t…” she looks away before covering her face with her hands.

  “Hey,” I ask her, grabbing her hand and forcing her to look at me. “Stop overthinking it.”

  “You don’t understand,” her voice wavers and she shakes her head slightly, the wind brushing the hair from her face. “You want this, just what we have right now.” she says the words like it’s a bad thing.”

  “Of course I do.”

  “I don’t want to waste my time with someone… who…”

  I cup her head with the back of my hand, waiting for her look at me. “Grace. I can’t tell you what I will want a year from now. Shit, I don’t even know what I'll want a month from now, but I'll want you in my life. I want you.”

  “I want you, but I want a family, too. I don’t want to just fuck around.” Her voice carries the same no-bullshit attitude as mine and she holds my gaze.

  My heart beats loud in my chest. The crazy thing is, I never wanted kids. It was never even on my radar. But knowing that I could have had one with her, and that we lost what could have been…

  I swallow thickly, still holding her gaze.

  I lick my lips, feeling my pulse race as I splay my hand on her lower back and pull her close to me. “A baby’s a lot to ask for, but…”

  “I know it is.” Grace huffs a sad laugh, shaking her head. “I’m damn crazy to expect you to ag
ree to that. But you know me. And I know you,” she swallows, her voice cracking. “And if it’s not what you want... And something that you'll want soon, then I need to move on, Charlie.” Tears form in her eyes and I shush her, rubbing her back and kissing her forehead.

  She doesn’t stop, she lets it all out. “I think I love you and if this stays the way it is… I know I’ll let it. I’ll let time go by. I’ll let you never commit to me. I’ll be sacrificing something I may never be able to have, and I’ll regret it. And Charlie, I want a baby. I’m so damn sorry, but I want a family,” she wipes her nose with the back of her hand and then under her eyes with her fingers, all the while shaking her head. “I love you, but I want a family more than staying with you if it’s something you aren’t willing to give me.”

  I pull her back some by her shoulders so she can look at me as I say, “We can give it a little time, before we try again.”

  She’s still wiping away tears as I add, “Come move in with me. Let’s try this for real.” It’s not fucking around or a game, or pretend or a stupid drunken deal. I want to put my all into this, for her and for our future.

  “Not for any other reason than to see if we can make this work?” she asks me. Right then and right there, I know how the rest of my life is going to be. She’s going to be right by my side if I can help it. I know with everything in me that we will make it work. It’s easy between us. It always was. I was the reason we were apart. If I give her this, it’s over. I’m done for. She’ll have me wrapped around her finger and knocking her up again in no time. I search her eyes and all I see there is love.

  It’s what I feel for her, too.

  “I already know we can.” I answer her with the only truth I know. “I want to be with you. I love you.”

  CHAPTER 39

  Grace

  * * *

  UNWRAPPING A STACK OF PLATES, I move from the living room into the open-concept kitchen. The theme of this room must be gray, because the appliances, the countertops, and even the cabinets are gray and smooth. I set the plates down and open all the cabinets, looking for the place where the plates belong.

  I find them in the last cabinet I open, far away from Charlie’s stove and refrigerator. Picking up my plates, I sigh as I move them into the cupboard. This is the third area of Charlie’s house I've found to be disorganized while in the process of moving my stuff in.

  Sooner or later, I’m going to break down and reorganize the kitchen, the bathroom, and the laundry room. I would do it now, but I don’t want to freak Charlie out. For him, asking me to move in was really a big step. If he comes home and can’t find anything, he might panic. The thought makes me snicker as I close the cupboard door.

  Okay, probably not. He’s a sensible guy. I just don’t want to make a bunch of changes and have him hate his own home. So far, so good. I’m just not willing to push it… yet.

  I return to the living room, picking up the now-empty box that previously held the plates. Breaking it down, I fold it flat so it will be easier to take out to the recycling later.

  My phone buzzes in the back pocket of my jeans and I pull it out to check the message. It’s a text from Charlie, saying he'll be home soon.

  I check the time, and realize it’s midnight, long past my bedtime. I got wrapped up with unpacking, but I’ll still be expected at work in the morning.

  I drift into Charlie’s bedroom — our bedroom, I suppose I should call it. I sit down on the bed, looking at my grubby t-shirt and cotton shorts. I should change, but I don’t. Instead, I lie back on the bed and stare out the window.

  It’s been a hell of a week. I moved all my things into Charlie’s two-story McMansion. It’s out in the rural area, and I absolutely love it. Charlie and some of his guy friends helped move all the big stuff so it only took one day.

  There were some raised eyebrows amongst his friends. Here I am, a person who’s never met most of them, and I’m moving in. It’s fast.

  It’s really, really fast. When I called my mom and sister to tell them, they were sort of alarmed. Alarmed is putting it nicely. But it’s also what I’ve wanted for a long time.

  A happy and domesticated life, with a man whom I truly adore. And if the guy happens to look like Charlie… well, that’s just icing on the cake. That, and the fact he adores me back. He loves me back. A warmth flows through me. I knew there was something there when I first saw him. But to hear him say the words, to really give us a chance, it’s a whole different kind of vulnerability.

  My phone vibrates in my hand. I check it again, and then grin. It’s a picture of Eric, Charlie’s new bar manager, standing on his hands on top of the bar. Eric is supposed to manage the bar in Charlie’s stead, but Charlie’s having a hard time letting go.

  So here I am, at midnight, encouraging him to come home.

  You coming? I ask.

  Be home soon. I guess it’s safe to leave Mac’s in this guy’s hands… right?? he texts.

  I’m pretty sure. You wouldn’t have hired him otherwise! I respond.

  Okay. On the way home, he says.

  Sitting up, I think about changing. Specifically, I wonder where my pajamas might be. I look at the boxes upon boxes piled in the bedroom and bite my lip. I don’t really have time to dig through those boxes. The bar is only a five minute drive from the house, after all.

  After searching for a couple of minutes in vain, I steal one of Charlie’s t-shirts. It’s colossal on me, reaching down to my thighs. It also happens to be an Atlanta Redhawks shirt.

  I’m not that into sports, but hockey is fun to watch. Shrugging, I throw my dirty clothes in the laundry chute, which leads down into the laundry room.

  The metallic chime of the security system alerts me that somebody opened the door. I get back on the bed, hurrying under the covers. Of course Charlie has seen me lots of times, and wearing less than this. But still, I huddle under the covers.

  When he comes around the corner, I can’t control the smile that breaks out across my face. He looks so handsome, in his old Mac’s t-shirt and low slung jeans with a peek of that sexy “V” showing.

  “Looks like you slayed a lot of boxes in the living room,” he says, jerking his thumb over his shoulder as he comes in the room.

  “And yet, there are a million left,” I sigh.

  He comes over to the bed, eyeing me. He swoops down and kisses me. The faint smell of beer follows him.

  “You ready for bed?” he asks, looking at me.

  “I don’t know. Maybe?” Right after I answer, I involuntarily yawn.

  “I guess that answers my question,” he says with a rough chuckle, winking at me. He starts to get up.

  “No, wait,” I say, tugging his arm. “Stay. Tell me how Eric did.”

  “Aww, you’re not interested in that. It’s work stuff.”

  “No, I am! Tell me everything.” I am interested. It’s important to him, and therefore important to me.

  He looks at me for a long moment, then shakes his head.

  “What?” I ask.

  “I was going to wait until you’re higher energy, but…”

  He reaches in his back pocket and pulls out a Ring Pop. Scrunching my face curiously, I watch as he gets off the bed, kneeling on the floor.

  “What are you doing?” I ask, cocking my head. My heart does that thump, thump, thump that makes me nervous.

  “Asking you to marry me, if you don’t mind.”

  My mouth falls open. I stare at him, and he looks back at me, the hint of a smile on his face. But also nervousness. Holy shit. Goosebumps break out over my body.

  “You’re kidding,” I accuse.

  “I’m not. I’m just waiting for a sign that you want to hear the words.”

  “I… I…” I try to answer with my lungs refusing to work.

  My throat closes up, and tears threaten. I am officially speechless. I manage a nod.

  “Yes? You want to hear them?”

  I nod again. A tear rolls down my cheek.

  �
��I love you, Grace Campbell. I don’t want to lose you ever again. I want to build a life with you. I want us to have a family, together.”

  He pauses. I press my fingers to my lips. I can’t believe this is really happening.

  “Grace, will you marry me?” Charlie asks, looking at me with those soulful green eyes.

  “Are you serious? Like… for real?” I squeak.

  He laughs. “Yes. I’m serious.”

  I launch myself off the bed, tackling him. My kisses land more on his face than his mouth, but Charlie doesn’t seem to mind.

  “I’m getting you a real ring tomorrow,” he says when the kisses taper off. “I want you to love it, so I got you this in the meantime.”

  He pulls the Ring Pop from its wrapper, sliding it onto my finger. It’s a bright red. I look at it for a second, then taste it. It’s super sweet; raspberry, I think.

  Charlie chuckles. “You approve?”

  “Raspberry always was my favorite,” I retort, brushing the tears from my face.

  “So tell me what I want to hear.”

  “The kissing and tackling weren’t evidence enough?” I tease.

  “Not for me,” he says, his eyes sparkle and the smile on his face widens. “Not when it’s something this important.”

  I lean in and kiss him tenderly. “Yes, Charlie. I do want to marry you.”

  “Good. Because I want to do this. I’m all in now.”

  “Forever?” I ask.

  “Forever,” he says.

  “I love you, Grace.”

  “I love you too, Charlie.”

  EPILOGUE

  Charlie

  * * *

  THE SOUND of keys tapping rattles through the house. Grace is busy at work again. I roll in the bed onto my side and stare at the digital red numbers, 4:33 a.m.

  The bed groans as I shift my weight and crawl out of bed. My sweetheart’s been getting into this habit lately. It started before the wedding when she knew she’d be taking time off.