Page 43 of Between Our Hearts

Sadie was watching him instead of the screen, brows pinched.

“Which one’s your favorite?” He gestured to the TV.

When her face returned to his, this hand-in-the-candy-jar smile crossed her lips, and he had to fight hard against the impulse to grab her waist and drag her onto him.

She sat close, but not right next to him. “Iron Man.”

A button push started the movie, but only thirty seconds of “Back in Black” played before his wife was straddling his lap, her fingers weaving through his hair, lips on his.

???

As Clark brushed his wife’s hair back over her naked shoulder, a nervous anticipation threaded through him. He was going to purposefully fracture the glass. He was going to break the peaceful treatise they found themselves in, but he needed to know that this could last. He needed to know that they could communicate with more than their bodies.

At least he’d been smart enough to see that flush take over her skin first.

After they hadn’t watched a single scene fromIron Manlast Thursday, Clark had told himself he’d give it a week—a week before he broached the subject. After all, it had been a long hard year of slowly drifting apart, and now everything felt too blissful to try and burst it intentionally.

After the fun family day at the pool last Friday, he’d paid Aurelia double to come over at the last minute so he could take Sadie to a downtown summer music festival. They’d danced, drunk beers, and ate funnel cake, even though the June evening was almost too sticky for a hot snack. Then, after the sitter had gone home, he’d traced his tongue over every one of the subtle tan lines Sadie had developed at the pool.

Every day since then had been better than the last. Sadie had come home on time every night, given him a stirring kiss, and then taken Lottie on a new adventure—tromping through the woods behind their house, hunting for worms in the soil, playing pirates in the playhouse. His wife had ended up so filthy that she’d taken to showering with Lottie. Then they’d both be clean and in fresh pajamas for bedtime.

His chest had almost burst watching his two damp-haired beauties giggle over picture books. On those days, two seconds after the toddler lock had been secured on Lottie’s door, he’d swooped Sadie up and carried her laughing body to their room. Later in the week, however, pervasive doubt kept creeping into his subconscious, making him wonder if he’d hit his head and was in some sort of fever dream.

So he’d let Sadie put Lottie to bed while he did the dishes or worked in the woodshop. But as soon as their daughter had fallen asleep, his wife found him. Then they’d end up a tangle of limbs on the kitchen floor, or he’d have to engage the brakes on the casters of his mobile worktable before lifting her atop it.

The entire time, he kept waiting for the other shoe to drop. For something to ruin this—something outside his power. Everything had been so up-and-down over the last few months, it was nearly impossible for him to get his bearings. Part of him foolishly hoped that since he’d shown her how much he loved her, how much he desired her, something had shaken loose in both of them. That something silent and powerful had transpired between their hearts even though no words except “I love you” had been exchanged.

But now he needed to know. There were lingering questions that had been buzzing through his mind all week that he needed answered. They needed to talk about what had happened between them over the last year. They needed to talk about their future. He needed to know that things wouldn’t change with the snap of a finger and he’d be back to loving her from a distance while living in the same house.

“Love?”

“Hmm.” Her auburn lashes fluttered open from her space next to him on his pillow.

Part of him wanted to keep the words trapped in his mouth and kiss her again.

No. He shook himself internally.We need to sort this out.

He let his hand run down her side and rest on the sweet curve of her hip. “I love you—”

“I love you too,” she interrupted, pressing a kiss to his lips.

He bit back a groan at her taste lingering on his tongue. Maybe he should have done this fully clothed in the kitchen, or outside, or in a restaurant.

His fingers weaved through her hair. “I want to talk about us.”

She stiffened slightly, as he’d known she would. “Okay.”

“I’ve noticed that even during this last week when things have been soincrediblygood, we still don’t talk.” He kept his gaze soft as it focused on her face.

“Sure we do.”

“No,” he said gently. “We don’t. We make love to each other and we co-parent, but we still haven’t talked about the fact that it feels like we stepped out of a one-year time warp. I’m”—he swallowed—“I’m afraid we’re going to go back to not connecting, and I’m not sure I can take that again. I need us to try to get on the same page.” His thumb framed her jaw. “Do you think we could do that? Can you do that for me?”

She seemed to be warring with herself as her irises darted between his, but in the end, a subtle nod shook their shared pillow.

“Really?”

“I don’t want to lose you.” Her words were barely a whisper.

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