Page 17 of Wine & Whiskey: Everything for You
Shae smiles behind closed eyes at the clean-scented, citrusy cologne drifting across her. She sinks deeper into the velvety cushion, crinkling from Nick’s weight as he climbs in next to her. Tender kisses trail across her shoulder before he lies along her side and rests his head on her chest, his leg draped over hers. Her hand glides under his shirt, stroking his back. “I thought you were working.”
“I was ready for a break, so I thought I’d come outside and enjoy the sunset with you.”
A soft giggle bubbles in her throat. “It’s only been ten minutes.”
His sleeve brushes against her arm as he shrugs. “What can I say? I’m fast.”
“I think you were checking to make sure I wasn’t calling Gail now that I have my phone back.”
Like over-protective parents, Carrie and Nick formed a united front against her talking to her manager. Or a more accurate description would be her listening as Gail shrieks and screams and fusses. Her promises of waiting until at least tomorrow to call Gail back the only reprieve from their grounding. Which is not a total hardship after listening to the messages and reading the texts the woman’s already sent.
“You don’t need her bullshit right now.”
“She’s just trying to help me and my career.”
A deep growl of disapproval rumbles in his throat, ending their discussion. They’ve both lost so much already, neither of them wins from an argument.
The solidity of his body curling over hers provides a sense of stability, like an anchor mooring their relationship after they had been floating away from each other for too long. Tethered by love, yet finally free from worry. Their permanence a welcome comfort of knowing that whenever she leaves, she’ll always come back here, with him, in his arms and in his bed. She’s home.
She twists around the diamond on her finger before stroking his hair, letting her fingernails graze across his scalp. His quiet murmur of contentment warms her skin. All of his fears and insecurities eliminated with a single word. He thinks the ring makes them real, that her wearing it gives him assurance she believes in his love for her. Never realizing the proof of his own commitment comes from his acceptance of her faith in him.
His long fingers glide under her tee and spread across her stomach, his thumb rubbing back and forth, occasionally brushing against the bottom curve of her belly button. The gentle touch is a subdued expression of the fierce love and protectiveness behind it. Just like she knew it would be, once he learned to trust himself. Now, hopeful anticipation can fill the space in her heart once occupied by worry. His happiness becomes hers.
Yet, the quiet between them is a peaceful illusion hiding the fact he’s brooding. Lost in his thoughts. Maybe thinking about the mistakes they’ve both made. Or more likely of Carter. Emotions he doesn’t want to admit and a discussion he doesn’t want to have. God forbid, if something happened to Carrie, he would do everything possible to ease the grief of her losing her best friend. Yet, his stubbornness remains, unwilling to accept her comfort for his loss.
She tugs his curls before tickling the back of his neck. “It’s been strange not seeing Max all day. I kept waiting for him to come for you.”And say Carter is here to see him.A reminder of what used to be that hurts them both.
“I told him to take off for a while. He could use some down time after everything that happened.”
As always, he acknowledges Max’s needs, yet disregards his own. Ignores the sorrow invading his heart. How can a man be so concerned about others, yet not himself? “I agree. But, what about you? You’ve been through a lot too.”
The stiffening of his body is the only response she receives. Her fingers glide across his hair again. Regardless of what he doesn’t say, she can still try to offer him solace.
After a few minutes, he tilts his head and looks up at her. The sadness in his gaze reflects the truth, his anger at Carter unable to completely smother the love that’s still there. He kisses her stomach and her lips before rolling onto his back and closing his eyes.
She curls into the curve of his arm. “What are you thinking about?”
A long, deep breath rattles under her cheek as she lies against his chest. “He took me surfing one time, trying to teach me. But I didn’t take it seriously. Too many girls in tiny bikinis for me to care about listening to him.”
The far-away tone of his voice, usually reserved for his mother, now applies to his new heartbreak as well. A casual response is her only option to keep him talking, encouraging him to let out the pain tormenting him. “How old were you?”
“Fourteen and only interested in one thing. He never took me again.”
“Good to know the priorities of teenage boys.”
No laughter or acknowledge of agreement. Just the trailing of his fingertips across her arm as it rests on his stomach. “We worked so much he hardly ever got to go, even though he loved it. Every once in a while he would disappear, and I knew that’s where he was. So many times I thought about finding him and trying again, but never did.” His cheek presses against the top of her head, his voice stinging with guilt. “I should have.”
“I’m sure he would have liked that.”
A few locks of hair slide onto her forehead from his shaking head. “Nah, he probably would have just gotten pissed at me for bothering him when he was trying to ride a few sets.”
No words of relief or consolation come to her mind, as much as she aches for them to. For insightful wisdom to lessen his grief. They share the universal desire of wanting to go back in time to fix past mistakes. To undo the pain they caused to the ones they love the most.
“He was the only connection I had left to my mom. Now, I’m the only one left who remembers her.”
The truest essence of an orphan—alone in your life and your memories. Yet, a flicker of optimism always exists with a new life. “Maybe you’ll see her again in the baby.”
His fingers trace the edges of the bandage covering the crook of her arm. The same worry lines from the doctor’s office crease his forehead. “Hopefully, our child will be like you and my mother, not my father.”
