Page 12 of Fate

Tears sting the back of my eyes, and I wait for the disgust and fear to show on her beautiful face. My niece is going to hate looking at me, or worse—be afraid of me. Bile rises up my throat as I wait to hear how she’ll reply.

In true Claire fashion, she reaches out her hand, and her little fingers caress the gnarled skin from shoulder to wrist. “Hurt?” She’s gazing up at me. There’s not even a hint of discomfort on herface.

I shake my head and swallow through the cotton coating my throat.

“Wooks wike it hurts.” She is matter-of-fact.

“It doesn’t, honey.”

She nods and caresses it one more time, running over the bumps and valleys with a featherlight touch. It’s the most I’ve ever let anyone other than a doctor or one of my best friends touch the scarredskin.

Claire inspects it for a few more seconds, dipping her tiny fingers into the puckered holes and back out. Then she completely and utterly blows me away with her grace, love, and compassion.

She looks at me with her crystal-blue eyes, the same as her dad’s, leans toward my arm, and kisses my biceps right over a nasty patch of scars.

I close my eyes as the tears slip down myface.

“I kissed it better.” She smiles, proud of herself.

“It worked, honey. It’s all better.” My voice cracks, and I clear my throat so she can hearme.

She smiles wide. “Mommy magic.” She is referring to something I’ve heard Gigi say to her countless times when the children hurt themselves. She’d kiss their boo-boos and hurts and say those two wordstoo.

“Yes, your mommy is magic, because she gave us you. I love you, honey.”

“I wuv you too, Auntie Kitty. Now I need cookies and a new bruh-ver.” Claire scrambles to stand and bounces on the bed until she flops to her bottom and slips off with the exuberance only a child can muster.

The laugher bubbles out of me, free and weightless. The first time I’ve felt lighter in months.

The second Ienter the kitchen, Gigi rushes to me, her arm around my waist, pulling me out into the hallway.

“I did not invite him here. Apparently, they already had plans to discuss some business venture over breakfast, but I swear to God on my children’s lives, I didn’t know he’d be here.” Gigi’s speaking so fast she has to lean over and catch her breath when she’sdone.

“What are you talking about?”

“It’s not my fault.” She wraps a hand around her belly.

“What’s not your fault?” I’m confused.

“There you two are. Come on, breakfast is already set,” Chase says while putting an arm over his wife’s shoulders and kissing her temple.

I walk around them to the kitchen. “Gigi was just apologizing to me for something—” And the words fall right out of my mouth when I see who’s sitting at the kitchen table eating a cherry-filled crepe.

He stands, looking like a tall drink of water. His blond hair falls across his forehead in sexy layers that say, I don’t give a fuck what my hair looks like, but it always looks amazing.

His scent wafts across the room. I’m surprised I didn’t smell it when I entered the hallway. Only one man I know smells of hay and the sea. A man who surfs as often as he rides his horses. Living directly on a swath of farmland bordered by the Pacific Ocean will give a person that unique scent. I must say, even now, it hits every single last one of my nerve endings from the roots of my hair down to my toes. Pleasant tingles of awareness and desire sprinkle out each pore, putting a static energy in the room anyone within a ten-foot radius couldfeel.

Carson’s eyes are crinkled around the edges. More lines haloing those baby blues than I like to see. He’s tired, worn out…butwhy?

“Hey, Sweetcheeks, didn’t expect to see you here, but always a pleasure.” His low, rumbling tone zips through me, calling back memories of making love, laughing until the wee hours of the morning, and whispered vows we’ve since broken.

Sweetcheeks. His nickname for me. Silly name from a silly man, but he loved my ass and told me as often as he groped it. I just loved him. Stilldo.

“Carson, it’s been a while.” I clench my teeth and batten down my emotions.

He nods, comes around the table, and stands before me. The entire room ceases to exist when he’s in it. As if everything around me has gotten smaller, farther away, and all I’m capable of seeing is him. The man I love. The man I’ll always love but can no longerhave.

Carson lifts a hand to my face. With his thumb, he traces a path from my temple down to my chin and lifts it up. He leans forward and places a soft kiss to my lips. I gasp. He hasn’t made that gesture in two solid years. I’m so shocked by his nearness and the sheer connection pumping between us, I don’t move a single muscle. He brushes his lips along mine again. I lick my lips and just the hint of our tongues touch. He groans, and I pop back at the sound.

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