When the Heart Lies (33 page)

“Please, Jackson. Don’t do this.”

He lifted his chest off hers. “Tell me you don’t want the same thing I do, and I won’t take you into that bedroom and make you forget any other man ever existed.”

Overwhelmed with love and need for him, she pulled him back down onto her by the neck of his shirt. Before her lips met his, he stood, pulled her from the couch—onto her feet, and into his arms. He backed them into the bedroom, kissing her en route. When the back of his legs hit the bed, he sat, pushed her gently away from him, and leaned back onto his forearms.

“Take your clothes off for me. I need to be able to picture you. I need to burn you into my memory.”

His words, his stare, that moment –he could’ve asked anything of her, and she would’ve done it. Reaching around, she unzipped her dress. It fell around her feet, leaving only her strapless, black lace bra, panties, and garter stockings. She stepped out of the dress and started to kick off her heels. He raised his hand to stop her.

“Save those for last.”

With the snap of two fingers, she unclasped her bra, and it fell to the floor. They locked eyes, and she seductively wiggled out of her panties. When she stepped away, the lace caught on one of her heels. She bent her knee, bringing the heel and the panties up behind her. With a sexy smile, she reached back to grab them, lost her balance, and did a three sixty trying to catch them. Like a cat chasing his tail. When she finally caught the stubborn panties, she tossed them right into his wide-eyed grin. He grasped them in midair, an inch or so from his face. Recovered and confident again, she lifted her foot into his lap for him to remove the sexy black pump. He removed both, slowly. When his thumb ran firm along her instep, it burned her core. He kissed her to her knees and slid the tip of his tongue sensuously along her inner thigh, nibbling as he went. Both hands slid up her outer thighs, and in turn, he peeled off each stocking, sliding them sensuously down her legs. Slowly, softly, he ran his hand across her taut belly, following with kisses as he went. He buried his face into her middle, inhaled, and released a faint rumble.

“My God, you’re perfect.” He said the words between ragged breaths as he stood and turned her back to his front. When he buried his face in her neck—her weak spot, his hands cradled her breasts. Fingers and thumbs pinched and rolled her hardened nipples firmly. The sound of her own whines echoed in her ears. Swollen and hard, he pressed divinely against her ass. Half kissing, half-nibbling and licking, he slid his silky lips down her spine and brought them back up slowly.

Instinctively, she rocked back to connect with his hardness. He teased her and inched himself beyond her reach. Her moans begged for him. As he reached around and slid his fingers between her legs, he seized one breast, caressing, and drew her firmly against him. When she faltered from his touch, he steadied her. She pulled his head downward, from behind, and his mouth nuzzled her neck. Her head fell back and pressed against his. Words formed unconsciously and came rough and unrecognizable from her throat. “My God—where did you come from?” 

A guttural moan escaped him, and he let himself fall back onto the bed, reversing her position so she was straddling him. Her hair fell covering her face. He held it back, and watched her as she sheathed him fully into the heat they created. She moved along, stroking him from within. As his eyes glided over her, they produced ripples of shiver heightening her sensations.  Her body shuddered as she gasped short breaths and held his gaze through her orgasm. A teardrop fell on the hand that held her hair. She turned her head away.

He stopped her, and his hands brought her eyes back to his. “Please, don’t ever turn away from me. I want your tears to fall on me. Always.”

She leaned down kissing him. Her lips burning, full and moist, met his with crazed passion. She rode him close to his body, her orgasm building again.

His mouth abandoned hers. He ignored her parting whines of discontent while tugging on her lower lip. “I have to see you.”

Eyes connected, bodies and minds joined together, the completion of their union rocked them, giving way to gentle waves of final yielding motion. When she collapsed onto him, she wept at the thought of leaving him. As she slept, he held her with his lips against her temple. He held her like that until she slept.

“I’ll love you forever,” he whispered into the darkness. Wrapping himself around her, he rolled them onto their sides and pulled her in.

They slept that way, but she awoke alone.

Chapter 22

Jackson left a note on the pillow.

“I won’t say goodbye. Because it isn’t over.”  He signed the it, “Forever lost to you, – Jackson.”

Kinsley stared at the paper, hoping that new words would appear “I went for coffee. Be back soon.” Anything. Anything to indicate she’d see him one more time. When a cupboard door slammed, she dropped the note and gathered the sheet, covering herself as she ran to the kitchen. Scar stood at the sink.

“Scar.” Her voice faded along with her heart.

Scar turned and gave her a somber smile. “I thought you should get up because we need to be at the airport in an hour and a half.”

When they arrived, the plane was about to board. She ran back to Scar and hugged her for the last time. “Take care of him for me.”

Scar smiled. “He doesn’t need to be taken care of.” And that was why he was so perfect for her.

Scar was right. Jackson would be fine. Already, she wondered where he was and what he was doing. Did he still feel her touch all over him, as she felt his?

The flight passed in a flash, the only thoughts crossing her mind were of Jackson and Max; everything else seemed inconsequential. The flight attendant’s voice instructing passengers to refasten their seat belts for landing pulled her from her thoughts.

The plane would land in twenty minutes. Only twenty minutes to get herself together. Never having thought what facing Nick again would be like, she wasn’t prepared. If Max came with him, the reunion would be easier, and she could focus on him.

As she walked down the jet way, her stomach flipped. She feared she might vomit from the mix of dread and anticipation.  The railing supported her as she tugged her bag from her shoulder and moved off to the side to allow the others passengers to pass. Her dizzy head hung at her chest, and she held her stomach. After all the passengers exited, a flight attendant approached her.

“Are you okay, Miss?”

“Yes, I’ll be fine. I just needed a minute.” She saw Nick first. Exhaling long, the way she did during her labor with Max, she walked toward him. It seemed strange to be looking into his eyes again. Not just strange—awkward. Her worry pulled at her temples, threatening a headache.

Max ran to her. She swooped down and plucked him up into a tight embrace.  Nick came and joined them. She sensed his awkwardness. He gave her a perfunctory kiss.

“How’d the flight go?

“Oh, a little bumpy.”

If she hadn’t met Jackson, she’d be happy to be home and ready to put the past behind her. Not to go back to her old life, but on to a better one, a life where she’d tell Nick —no more women and a lot less drinking. He didn’t think she knew about the other women, and he was unaware his drinking tore her up inside when he slunk into their bed after downing a half bottle of scotch and ignoring her all night. Maybe she’d even find the strength to face the past. Taking all the blame would change. Ready or not, she’d get herself to that point.

The car ride home was quiet, except for Max’s input. There were brief glances, short smiles, and bits of small talk between her and Nick. He was pretending in the same way she was.

“Dad planned a little family dinner. Mia will be coming. Just the four of us. He wanted us to welcome you home”

Her brow crinkled. “Tonight?”

Xavier was always trying to fix things. If he only knew how broken they were. The kind of broken she didn’t think she could hide much longer. She could’ve before, but not after Wayde. She had to face herself. First, she’d take some time and make sure her thinking was clear.

“Dinner’s not until eight, Dad’s cooking, and you love when he cooks. The staff is off. Even Jonathan. You don’t need to worry. Everything will be okay. C’mon.”

“Okay. I wish Mia wasn’t coming. I don’t want to face anyone so soon. The last few days have been a lot to deal with. Besides, Mia is more your friend, and after this …”

“Since when? You and Mia have always been friends. She loves you.”

No, she loves you.
“I’m sorry, she’s a good friend. We’ve just … grown apart.” She wasn’t about to get into it with him about Mia, and it would change nothing.

“Well, get out from behind your computer more. What the hell do you want to write all the time for anyway? You have everything you could want.” 

With a flash of her eyes, she folded her arms over her chest. “I don’t write for the money.” Sometimes, she wondered if he knew her at all.

Nick’s face hardened, and he stretched one arm out stiff against the steering wheel. “I’m sorry. I understand writing is your hobby. I just want you to be happy. Spend more time on fun things. Let’s not get off on the wrong foot. I’m glad you’re home. We’ll talk when Max takes his
nap. He should be ready for one by the time we get home.” He reached out, took her hand, and held it between them. “All right?”

“No nap!” Max proclaimed loudly.

They laughed. They loved Max. That was something.  No, there was more. She’d try to love him like she used to. He probably did love her, but simply didn’t grasp how to show it. About two weeks before Nick left the house, they made love. Usually they had sex, good sex, but the connection was never about him loving her. Making love was different. He said I love you as they made love that one afternoon, and for the first time in years, she believed he meant the words. She couldn’t remember if it was their last time together. It seemed like it.

Before the suicide attempt, before Max and the affairs, she thought she couldn’t live without Nick. More than once, the thought crossed her mind that she felt the same way about Jackson. Time would change things. This go around, she knew she didn’t need Nick or Jackson. Her strength would be what carried her from now on. She stared at the sapphire. Nick wouldn’t even notice the ring. Stuff like clothes and jewelry blew by him, and she was glad because despite not needing Jackson, she wanted him and loved him. The ring signified their connection, but the reminder wasn’t necessary. They were silent the remainder of the ride home.

Déjà vu overwhelmed her when she entered the house.  They could’ve been returning from the grocery store. After putting Max to bed, she went down to the deck. The day was cool and crisp. She breathed deeply, filling her lungs with the fresh air. She loved the fall. It was good to be home, good to be safe and secure. Maybe she’d tell Nick about the book; possibly, he’d recognize her writing wasn’t some stupid hobby.

Nick surprised her, coming up from behind. He put his arms around her waist and leaned his face next to hers. She pushed away thoughts of Jackson. She had to. This was real life.

“I want us to try,” he said.

She turned to faced him. “I do, too. A lot has happened; can we get past everything?”

They regarded each other, both questioning.

“I’ll get us some coffee and start a fire. We can talk,” he said.

They gave each other a half nod of understanding. When he headed to the kitchen, she looked out onto the lake, sighed, and headed to the living room.

She leaned back into the cushy sofa with her feet tucked under her, and grabbed a throw. Once Nick started the fire and brewed and served the coffee, he sat next to her. They sat in quiet for a few minutes.

“So where do we start? Was it awful?” he asked.

“How’s Max adjusting to being home?”

“I guess avoiding the question means you don’t want to talk about what happened? He’s doing great. He’ll be fine. I worry about you, though. If you need to talk, I’m here.”

Where were you eight
months ago? When I wanted to talk.
She willed herself not to think so negatively.

He kissed her cheek and moved to kiss her lips. She didn’t move away, but turned her head a bit. Being with Nick again would take some time. Jackson was fresh in her memory.

Nick blew out a breath and leaned back into the sofa. “I only want to make things better.”

Sex had always been what fixed them. Until the next time. This time had to be different.

“I do, too. I’ll need some time, though.” The problem was she didn’t know how much time adjusting would take.

His fingers played in her hair. “Okay. Take whatever time you need. Do you want to take a nap?” He took her hand and weaved his fingers with hers. “I promise I’ll leave you alone. I just want to hold you next to me.”

“Nick.”

“I promise.”

The bed was hers. It was home. Comfortable and familiar. She’d try to remember what being in love with Nick felt like. Max was close to his father, and that’s what mattered most to her. Or did it? She wasn’t sure anymore.

~ ~ ~

Once they arrived at Xavier’s, Kinsley was glad to be there. Xavier was in the kitchen, already putting the final touches on the meal. The whole house was chock-full of aromas, and seeing Xavier cook, as he always did on special occasions, took her back to simpler times. The warm ambiance of being with family surrounded her. Max, as always, climbed up Xavier’s leg for a hug, and as usual, he dropped everything to welcome him. Once Max got his fill, Xavier came to her, embracing her in a bear hug while rocking back and forth.