If Forever Comes (Take This Regret #2)(46)
Author: A.L. Jackson

Opening an overhead cabinet, he produced two wine glasses. His lips pressed into a thin line as he worked the cork free on the bottle and pulled it loose. He filled the glasses halfway, passed one to me. He glimmered a smile.

He held out his glass. “To our little girls who are growing up.”

Lillie struck me like an errant bolt of lightning. My child who would never grow. I squeezed my eyes against it, against his words, and focused instead on my Lizzie. Reluctantly I clinked my glass his.

“To our little girls.”

We both took a deep pull of our wine.

He lifted his glass, tipped it just to the side, gesturing toward the stove. “I’m just going to get the water started for the pasta. Then we can sit down and relax a bit before we eat.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Nah, relax. Enjoy yourself.”

He got the water ready to boil and turned back to me. His mouth curved in clear perusal, as if he liked what he saw. He took five steps toward me, each one cutting off a little more of the airflow that fed my deflated lungs.

He held out his hand. “Come here.”

I let my hand slip into his. It was a test, to see how it would feel.

And maybe it was wrong, all of it, his skin against mine, my surrender. But I wanted to try.

I needed to try, because I was so tired of feeling dead. I wanted to feel. But when I gave into feeling, I couldn’t bear for it to hurt. I’d hurt for too long. For just one night, I wanted to feel good.

Not the way I knew Christian’s touch would burn me, the way it blessed me and bled me, the way he would singe me as his fingers traced my skin, the way he would sear me with his kiss.

I couldn’t handle anything so intense.

Something knotted at the center of my chest, something heavy, something vital.

I breathed around it.

Logan led me back into the family room and set his glass down on the end table. He swept his free hand across a rumpled blanket and dog-eared parenting book abandoned in the middle of the couch, pushing them aside.

A grin flitted at one corner of his mouth. “I warned you my place was a mess.”

An awkward huff worked its way free of my tightened throat, me standing there with my hand wound with a man’s that I didn’t even know.

And again, I was asking myself what I was doing, just what it was I hoped to achieve.

I will try.

He squeezed my hand and pulled me in front of him, guiding me to sit on the smooth leather of his dark brown couch. I sat perched at the edge, ill at ease, a subtle rock of my being as I fought against the urge to run, the desire to stay.

I want to feel something good.

Picking up his glass, Logan sat down beside me. He talked about the girl’s teacher, the school, laughed about how stressful it was being in charge of the group of six girls he’d chaperoned on the field trip last week.

I engaged him the best I could, laughed in all the right places because I had nothing to add. I’d been absent the entirety of this school year, absent from our lives.

I will try.

We sipped at our wine, talked about nothing.

Logan set his empty wine glass aside and moved to sit on the large square ottoman in front of me. He took my hand in both of his. “I’m really glad you’re here, Liz.”

I blinked. Emotions lashed within me. Volatile. Violent. “I’m glad I’m here, too.”

He seemed to choke over his laughter. It seemed so out of character for this man, but then I had to admit, I really didn’t know him at all. He was my daughter’s friend’s father. Nothing more. And here I sat with my hand burning between the heat of both of his.

Pulling back, he splayed what seemed to be a nervous hand through his messy hair. For a moment, he looked away, then turned his attention back to me. All the casualness I’d come to expect from him evaporated, severity taking its place.

“I’ve wanted to do something since the first time I saw you.” His hands tightened on mine as he inclined his head, searching, seeking permission.

I chewed at my lip, that disquiet from before bold, sinking aggressive fingers into my spirit.

“See…that…right there. It drives me insane, Liz. That mouth.”

He took my face in his hands, his hold strong, fierce as he stared at me with zealous eyes. When he leaned forward, I didn’t stop him. I let him. I wanted to feel.

Could he? Could he cover the pain? Expose something in me that was good?

His lips brushed mine, a breath, a brush, insignificance.

Still, it stole what little air I could find.

A whimper passed my parted lips. Something he seemed to mistake as desire. He pressed harder, his firm lips searching mine. He groaned and jerked back, his hold unfailing as his attention jumped all over my face. He gripped me tight.

“God, I’ve wanted to do that for so long. Did you know that, Liz? That I’ve been wanting to taste you? And you taste amazing.”

He lifted his chin, inclined his head as he dipped, and he searched me again, his mouth powerful as it explored mine. Then he deepened it, his tongue making a rough pass across my trembling bottom lip.

A jagged gasp ripped through my constricted airways. Tore through me with an avenging fury.

This kiss.

It was shattering.

Shred me to pieces, splintered as it fell, demolished the walls I’d erected around me.

This kiss came with a ruthless force.

It cut me open.

Splayed the wounds wide. They bled, surged, flooded me in everything I’d never wanted to feel again.

My mind shot to Christian, and suddenly I was back on my family room couch. And I could feel him, feel him holding me.

“I love you, Christian. Always. There is nothing that could make me stop loving you. Nothing that could make me stop needing you. You are my start and you are my finish, the one who’s going to be there for everything in between.”

And I felt…but I felt everything I’d been so desperately trying to shut out.

It hurt.

Oh my God, it hurt so bad.

I fisted Logan’s shirt, needing something to hang on to.

He edged forward, his hand coming to the back of my neck as he kissed me.

I was drowning.

Incredulous laughter shot from my mouth in a contemptuous scoff. “What do you mean, how can I say that?” I pushed up on my knees. “I was the one who carried her, Christian.” I jabbed my finger to my chest. “I was the one who loved her and cared for her. She died inside of me and I had to give birth to her.” I lifted my chin. “So yeah, I can say that…you have no idea what I’m feeling. None.”