Take This Regret (Take This Regret #1)(62)
Author: A.L. Jackson

I wouldn’t have had the strength to say no.

It had only taken him untangling himself from my hold and forcing himself out my front door for me to slip back into fear, to question what I’d done—what I’d agreed to.

In six weeks, I was supposed to go to New York with Christian, and I had no idea what that meant, what he expected, or what I could give.

I shook my head, smoothed out my shirt, and adjusted my skirt, wishing not everything had to be so complicated. I wished that I didn’t have so much hurt buried inside, so many deep-seated fears. I wished I could trust in him and believe that this time he wouldn’t let me down.

Most of all , I just wished to give up and give in.

God, I wanted to give in.

I clutched the railing for support at the top of the stairs as I looked down over my living room where Christian gazed up at me, hugging our daughter in his arms.

He was in dark low-slung jeans and a black T-shirt, his hair unruly, his eyes intense. It was as if the moment our eyes connected our bodies picked up on where we’d left off last night. The energy was dense, swirling with need and dripping with want. It rained down, sucked us in, and urged me forward.

Christian settled Lizzie onto the couch so she was Christian settled Lizzie onto the couch so she was facing the television, not in neglect but as if this were something she could take no part in, the moment too intimate, not to be shared.

As I edged down the stairs, I watched him as he watched me, didn’t shy from the touch of his gaze, but welcomed it as it traveled down, kissed my body, and caressed my legs.

His lips parted; tacit desire call ed my name.

I stopped a foot away.

He hesitated and swall owed deeply before he final y took a step forward, assailing my senses as he placed a heated palm against my cheek. With the pad of his thumb, he caressed my jaw.

I closed my eyes and leaned into his touch as the sweet of his breath washed over my face. I waited, wanting more than I should.

His movements were tentative as he slanted forward and brushed his nose along the opposite cheek. He ran it to my ear and whispered, “You are so beautiful.” His words sent a thril rushing over my skin. He ghosted his lips over the same line and pressed his mouth against my jaw.

I gasped and clutched his shoulders for support, unprepared for the onslaught of emotion—for the ache.

For the first time, I was completely defenseless, subject to Christian’s mercy.

Somewhere inside me, I knew he would hurt me; that once again he’d stolen my heart and held in his hand; that he had taken control and I didn’t know how to get it back.

I recognized it in the panic I felt when he pulled away, in I recognized it in the panic I felt when he pulled away, in the way my nails burrowed into the skin of his shoulders and begged him— don’t let me go.

Christian dropped his arm completely and stepped away. A low ahem made me turn my attention to a red-faced Matthew standing frozen in my doorway. He looked down and cringed over an apology.

Natalie popped up on her tiptoes, peeking over Matthew’s shoulder to find what it was that had caused her husband to stumble to a standstil .

Chapter 15

I didn’t want to let go—ever.

Elizabeth’s fingers burned into my skin and anchored in my soul.

Did she understand how much I cherished her? As I pressed my mouth to her jaw and held her face, did she know that I was praising the goodness of her heart and her ability to forgive, and that I fel in love with her more and more each day?

It took everything I had to pul away, to step back, but I knew where we were heading; and the last thing I wanted was an audience for the first kiss Elizabeth and I had shared in six years.

Elizabeth was so wrapped up in the moment I’m sure she hadn’t even realized Matthew and Natalie were standing in her doorway with their mouths gaping.

Spreading a frustrated hand through my hair, I looked to the opposite wal , hoping to quiet my thundering heart, to quel the roar screaming through my veins, demanding Elizabeth.

When I looked back, Matthew remained frozen in the doorway and appeared to be studying Elizabeth. Natalie broke through the tension, pushed under her husband’s arm, and entered the room to embrace Elizabeth as if she hadn’t just walked in on one of the most pivotal moments of our lives. “Happy birthday, Liz. You ready to go?” I watched as Elizabeth nodded and returned Natalie’s hug before she gathered her purse and black sweater from the entryway table. She looked back at me warily. Once again, the two of us were propel ed back into the unknown, unsure of where we stood.

I offered her a gentle smile, one that I hoped told her I understood, that I was scared too, but that I was finished wasting time—done wasting nights without those I loved.

I’d boarded the flight from my father’s funeral with a newfound resolve, an unvoiced pledge to my daughter and to Elizabeth that I would final y make this right.

It was time to take back my family.

Natalie approached with a knowing smile, wrapped an arm around my waist, and grinned up at me. Draping an arm around her shoulder, I hugged her to my side and smiled down at the girl who had become my friend, my confidant, the one who seemed to get both Elizabeth and me. I dropped my arm from her shoulder to shake Matthew’s hand. His grip was firm but lacked any animosity. His eyes darted to Elizabeth before they rested on me as he shook my hand. It was clear he knew exactly what had been taking place between Elizabeth and me when he’d walked through the door. He squeezed once before he dropped my hand and nodded almost imperceptibly, seeming to be giving me both a blessing and a warning—a statement that he wouldn’t stand in our way; but it was also clear with whom his loyalties rested.

His protectiveness didn’t bother me because my loyalties were in the very same place. I met his eyes with a nod.

Natalie and Matthew smothered Lizzie in love and goodbyes, made her giggle as they teased her, and told her to make sure she took good care of her daddy while they were away.

Elizabeth took Lizzie in her arms, hugged her close, ran a tender hand through our daughter’s hair, and whispered, “Have a great time with Daddy.” Elizabeth seemed uncertain when she stood and turned to me. Vacil ating emotions flickered across her face—need and love and too much fear. I’d recognized it in her touch when I’d stepped away, the fear that was rooted deep and clung to her like a disease.

I’d spend my life driving it out.

Extending my hand, I reached for her, pulled her to my chest, and murmured against her ear, “I’l be waiting.” Reticent, I released her hand with a heavy breath and watched as the three of them filed out the front door. I prayed they’d be safe, counted on Matthew to bring my girl home safely to me, refusing myself the sudden surge of possessiveness I felt when I realized I wouldn’t be the one there to witness her on the dance floor with her friends or there to celebrate her birthday. It was shocking how badly I craved to be the man on her arm. But the last thing I had the right to was jealousy, so I forced those thoughts away and glanced at Lizzie who studied me with an astute curiosity from where she leaned over the back of the couch.