Beautiful Storm (44 page)

“How was last time worse?” I know I’m pushing him, but I need to understand his side. I want to hear it from him.

“Sounds fucked up, doesn’t it? Well, so was I.” He takes another deep breath and his brows furrow. “I’d spent years avoiding any form of relationship. You know that. I dealt with loss, I’d dealt with fear, anger, desire, and other shit, but I hadn’t dealt with love, jealousy, or rejection before. At least not the kind I had with you. I may have been a grown man, but in those emotions I was just out of preschool.” A warm smile crosses his face from hearing my laughter.

He lets go of one of my hands and runs his fingers through his hair. “I didn’t cope well without you. The thought of his hands on you drove me insane. Every night was hell for me imagining what you two could be doing together.”

I want to interject but I don’t want to stop him from opening up, so I bite my tongue.

“The realisation I was never enough and you were never truly mine killed me.” His sad eyes flash at me then return to watching our joined hands. “I hit rock bottom, hard. I was drinking myself stupid every fucking night, and if I’m honest, most of the day as well. As far as I could see there was no point in me actually being around anymore. You didn’t want me. I sure as shit wasn’t any use to anyone in the state I was in. So I figured I’d be better off, the world would be better off, if I wasn’t here.”

He gives a soulless laugh and raises his beautiful, drawn face to look at me. “You know how that went.”

My heart squeezes and my eyes well with tears. “You could have died, Noah.”

“Yeah, I know.” His expression hardens for a second.

“Doesn’t it bother you?”

“No. Not being here in the world for you and Kai? That bothers the fuck out of me. Which is why this time, I dealt better with the whole situation, believe it or not.”

He gives my hands a tender squeeze when a choked sob emits from my throat. “I know you think I’m off the rails, but this time I had it under control. Yeah, I drank. It’s my go-to move, but I allowed myself two weeks and no more. I never went near another woman; I didn’t want anyone else.” His forehead furrows. “My heart never has.”

The relief which sweeps through me from his words can’t be described. Only felt. But it evokes a waterfall of tears.

His face softens. “Hey, I hope that’s relief and not disappointment.”

Unable to form a coherent sentence, I nod, raising a lopsided smile from him.

He lifts my hands to his face, presses them against his full lips for a beat, and then continues.

“After, I channelled every bit of anger, all the pain, into working out instead. Yesterday came to the point where I was ready to be debriefed. I had to get it all off my chest. Needed to deal with it once and for all.”

“So, you’re okay?” I sniffle, pull my hands back, and wipe under my eyes with the backs of them.

“Mentally, I’m in good shape, apparently. Emotionally, I’ve always been a bit of a hothead. Well, about you at least.” The expression that crosses his face removes years from his features. As it fades, his brows crease. “Um… How’s my little man?”

I thought I had lost the tension in my body until he asks that, but with his words every muscle liquefies. “He misses you.”

He nods at me, reaches out, and pulls on my hand. “Come here.”

I willingly go. He shifts in his seat and I settle onto his lap, snuggling up into his neck. “You really need to shave.”

A low chuckle rumbles against my chest. “No shit.”

He holds me against him and we remain there, in silence, for a few minutes. His lips graze my forehead and he squeezes me a little tighter. “You have no idea how much I’ve missed
both
of you.”

His confession makes my chest hurt, but in a good way.

He sighs, and it’s heavy and heartfelt. “Can you live with who I was?”

“You’re not who you think you are. I’m sorry I reacted the way I did. I was shocked, but I should’ve heard you out.” Renewed guilt floods through me.

“You’ve got nothing to be sorry for, angel. That one’s on me. I should’ve told you earlier. You know what they say about hindsight. But can you? I mean… Can you accept me with my past? Where I came from?”

“Yes. I already have. I should have…” I pause and run my thumb along the jagged scar on his cheek; it still looks angry, even after all this time.

“Stop.” His gruff voice breaks through my thoughts. Taking my hand in his, he lowers it to his mouth and sucks on my thumb, nipping at the pad with his teeth. “It’s not your fault.”

Dropping my gaze, I struggle to say something, anything to express how sorry I am, but nothing seems enough. How could it ever be enough? “But if I hadn’t—” I try to at least start somewhere, but he cuts me off.

“It’s not your fault,” he assures softly. He grips my chin so my eyes rise to meet his. “That decision was all mine.”

“But I still feel responsible.” I sigh, trying to break his unwavering gaze.

“You can only be responsible for your own actions, Lizzie, not those of others. People make their own choices. Yes you can perhaps persuade them in some way, but ultimately the final decision is theirs.”

I let his words sink in and enjoy the comfort of his arms around me.

“Noah?”

“Yeah?”

“Please come home. I’m not asking you to break the stupid no sex rule you’ve set. But I want us to be a family.”

His chest heaves under my hand with each shaky breath he takes. “That’s what you want?”

“It’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

He remains quiet, except for the rapid thud of his heart. I glance up at him to find his eyes glistening back at me with so much love in them it’s hard to believe it’s for me. He still hasn’t answered me. “Please, Noah. Will you?”

A small tear leaks from one eye. “Nothing on this earth would make me fucking happier.” His lazy smile appears as he squeezes me a little tighter. “Come on, angel. Let’s go home.”

Six Months Later

W
ALKING INTO OUR
home, I throw my workbag into the corner of the kitchen, and my dirty T-shirt quickly follows it. The house is quiet and causes the ever-present uneasiness to squeeze my stomach before I get the chance to fight it down. It’s too quiet. I take a deep breath.

She’s probably still out at work. Otherwise, Kai would’ve come barrelling at me the minute I walked in. Cait’s babysitting while Lizzie’s working. It’s all good.

The reasoning eases my nerves a little, and I manage to restrain myself from rampaging through the house to find them. Glancing over at the kitchen counter, I spot a few letters and shuffle through them. It works to calm me, plus it makes me smile. The feeling it gives me to see her coming through my door is one I’d never want to be without again.

Noticing a package in the kitchen, I pick up the small, brown padded bag and twist it in my hands. Every muscle tightens. A foreign postmark glares at me along with my name. The handwriting’s vaguely familiar, but I’m not sure if that’s good or bad.

Ripping it open, my heart stops, and the smile fades. Staring back at me is something I’ll never forget, but would’ve happily lived without seeing again, ever. Yet, it also brings a relief that I never thought I’d have.

I tip up the package and the gaudy gold signet ring, one I’d recognise anywhere, falls into my hand. A piece of paper pokes out from the shredded bag.

Well, that’s one fucking big apology, because it means he handed me something I could never gain myself. Not now. Not ever, without my family being at risk.

My freedom.

Sly bastard. It means a lot for him to have taken the job. If it was a job. We’re talking about Jase, after all. A smile creeps onto my face. It’s good to know after everything, he still has my back. The weight and fear carried on my shoulders for a long time disappears. My family is safe from my past. Alberto Zaffino’s dead.

I squeeze the ring in my hand one last time, silently thanking Jase, walk over to the bin and throw it away. Needing some noise, I head off to turn the TV on.

The first thing I notice when walking into the lounge is Lizzie. She’s all I see. Lying on the sofa, earphones in, dressed in her sweats, if you can call the barely-there shorts and crop top that. Her hair haphazardly falls on her shoulders, and she’s reading a book. She still knocks me for six every fucking time. I’ll never get tired of owning her, her owning me, body and mind. I’ve been in her presence for maybe thirty seconds and I’m already at half-mast.

She must sense me, and turns in my direction. As she sits up, she removes the earbuds and a tired smile crosses her lips.

“Hey,” she greets huskily. And it does nothing to tame the throb between my legs.

“Hey. You didn’t hear me come in?”

“No.” She shakes her head. “How long have you been there?” Her gaze trails down my bare chest, and it may as well have been her nails with how my body reacts.

“Long enough.” I gesture to the full-blown hard-on I’m now rocking.

She laughs. It’s soft, gentle, and tugs so hard inside me, it weakens my knees. “You’re insatiable.”

“Where you’re concerned? Too fucking right.” Since we broke the no sex rule a few months ago, I can’t keep my hands off of her.

“You seem less tense, happier?”

It’s the understatement of the year. “With you in my bed and my son in
our
home, what do you expect?”

An understated heat burns from her, and a shy smile overtakes her features. Our gazes lock.

I’ll be forever caught in her storm. I never want to be anywhere else. She’s my weakness. She always will be. But instead of letting it break me, become my downfall, I’ll embrace the fucker. Take it by the horns and ride it, hard.

I’m in front of her within three strides. I take hold of Lizzie’s hand and pull her up against me. Her eyelids become heavy, and her breath catches.

“Is Kai having a nap?”

“No. He’s still with Cait. Apparently they were going on an adventure around the zoo.”

That explains his absence, and I know our son couldn’t be in more capable hands. “Hmmm.” I breathe out against her ear and trail my fingers over her exposed skin at her waist. Her body shivers under my touch. And the fact I know I’ve got Lizzie to myself is doing nothing to calm my desire for her. “Do me a favour?”

“Anything.” She’s already as breathy as my cock’s hard.

I pull away from her. “Come lie on my back while I do some push-ups.”

Her eyes widen, and her face shines with the smile that touches her lips. It’s not what she was expecting. “Um. Okay.”

In all honesty, the last thing I want to do is push-ups. I desperately want to take her, here and now. But as long as she’s with me, that fact will always be my truth. I need to restrain the urge occasionally, as difficult as it is. Time to test myself.

“Bring your book. You can read while I press.”

“Seriously?” she giggles.

I get down on the floor and position myself. “Yeah, seriously.”

Every part of her moulds to me, even when she’s on my back. The roundness of her tits on my traps, the curve of her sweet spot over my arse. Everything.

“Okay. You’re going to have to bend your knees just a little, and cross your ankles.”

She does as I ask, and I start to press, slow and controlled. After ten, she asks, “Do you want me to read to you?”