Page 31 of The Forbidden Trio

I’m sorry, Janie.”

“You already apologized when you were working through your ninth step in the recovery program.”

“On the phone.”

“Because that’s all I would allow you,” she said, wondering why she was suddenly defending him. “But you’re right. You and your drug addiction, your drinking, put me through hell. So you can apologize all you want. It won’t change our history. And now…” she had to pause, to take in a breath. “…now Sonny is dead because of a damn addiction too. Apologies won’t change that, either.”

Tears burned her eyes. She pressed into them with her fingertips.

“Aw, Janie.”

He moved closer, but she warded him off with a wave of her hand.

“No. You donotget to comfort me.” She shook her head. “I’m so damn sick and tired of drugs and booze taking people away from me. Sonny is only the latest in a long string that included…” she paused to swallow a sob, “…you.”

“You were the one who left,” he said, his tone low, thick with the gravelly rasp that made him famous in the music industry. The rough vulnerability that had lured her in when she was nineteen years old.

God, it had been love at first sight for both of them, and they’d gotten married in Vegas only a few months later. Big mistake. Huge. Even if she’d been so wildly in love with him the idea of waiting to become his wife—to becomehis—had been unbearable. So in love, the hole in her heart had never completely healed.

“I had to, Cole.Hadto. The music industry, those people, were swallowing you up. The drinking and the pills and God knows what else. There was no room for me in that world, and I didn’t want there to be.”

He shook his head. “It was me that swallowed me up, who destroyed our life together. Fuck, Janie… if I’d only been smart enough to see it then, I never would have… hell, I can’t honestly say that. I don’t know. I’m an addict. That’s the way it works, right? I learned that early on in recovery. Most of us just keep on using until we lose everything. At least I still have my life. I was lucky. Not like poor Sonny.”

“God, Cole! Please don’t.”

To her horror, two fat tears leaked down her cheeks.

“Ah, no… Don’t cry, baby.”

That one word undid her.Baby. No one else had called her that since Cole. She wouldn’t have allowed it. But now it made her crumple into his arms, unshed grief ripping into her chest. When his strong arms wrapped around her, she burrowed in, the sobs coming hard and fast.

“Shh, baby. It’s okay. It’ll be okay.”

“How will it be okay? Sonny is gone.” She paused to hiccup in a breath. “I know I hadn’t kept in touch with him, but I knew him since I was eighteen. I introduced you guys.” She pushed back enough to look up into his face. “It all seems like a thousand years ago. How is it possible that we were ever so damn young?”

“Maybe because we were. Young and stupid. Sonny and me, anyway. You were always the smart one.” He paused, his dark brows drawing together. “And so damn beautiful. You still take my breath away, you know that?”

She didn’t want to melt into him, but she did. Just like she always had. And before she had a chance for rational thought to kick in, he lowered his head and brushed her lips with his.

She went warm all over, the heat that had always burned between them suffusing her. That and a sense of comfort in his arms. His lips were a whisper of soft flesh against hers, and he tasted exactly as he should—like sweet and wild masculinity.

Something between her thighs went tight, and she realized she was crushing her breasts against the hard wall of his finely muscled chest.

“No.” She pushed back, but he held onto her.

“Why not, baby? Why not, if we both need this? Just… contact. Just holding each other.” “I’m not some song you’re writing, Cole,” she protested, but her voice was a whisper.

“Aren’t you? Do you know how many songs I’ve written about you? I’ve never forgotten my Janie girl.”

“Don’t call me that,” she warned, even though every cell in her body wanted him to say it again, over and over until she could believe it. But wanting Cole Kennrick and trusting him were two different things.

He pulled her in tighter, until she could feel the strength in his arms, in his chest, even his hard, muscled stomach.

“But you are my girl,” he said softly, the gravel sinking to a low rumble. “You always have been. You always will be. I can’t help it. I’ve stayed away for so many years, but Sonny… Janie, life is too goddamn short to waste a minute on regret. I know I fucked up. Royally. And I’ve worked all twelve of my steps around my addictions and again around what I did to you. I try not to let myself get too tangled up in regret, but I have plenty when it comes to you. Let’s not make any new regrets. I can tellsomethingin you wants me the way I never stopped wanting you. I can feel it. I can see it in your eyes.” He paused, watching her face closely. “That, and fear,” he said, keeping his voice soft, as if he knew how easily she could be scared away.

She shivered, closed her eyes, and he brushed a hand over her hair.

“Honey and silk,” he said, taking a few strands between his fingers. “Exactly like I remembered. It’s been too long since I’ve touched your hair. Since I held you.”