CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

NATHAN

The voice, too loud for the restaurant’s peaceful elegance, sends a ripple through me.

I turn, already knowing what I’ll see—Brad, impeccably dressed in a suit, looking a little flushed. Beside him, teetering on impossibly high heels, stands Racheal, her dress clinging to every curve, leaving little to the imagination. The contrast between her and Amelia is stark. Where Racheal tries too hard, desperate for attention, Amelia exudes quiet confidence, her blue dress hugging her in all the right places without being overly revealing.

Amelia’s fingers tighten around mine. Her body tenses as if preparing for a fight. I squeeze her hand, offering silent reassurance.

Brad’s gaze slides over Amelia, his lip curling. “Where did he drag you from?”

Amelia stiffens, and her breath catches.

I stop myself from beating the hell out of him right then and there.

“Tread carefully, Brad.” My voice drops low, a warning growl that leaves no room for misinterpretation. This isn’t the time or place for whatever game he’s playing.

I guide Amelia away and follow the hostess to our secluded corner table. The soft clink of silverware and murmur of conversation fade into the background as I pull out her chair, my hand lingering on her shoulder a moment longer than necessary.

The waiter appears, handing us soft-leaf menus. I order a bottle of wine without looking at the list, my mind still churning from the unexpected encounter.

As the waiter retreats, Amelia remains silent, her gaze distant. She’s not looking at the menu; her thoughts are clearly elsewhere.

“I’m sorry about Brad. He won’t bother you again.”

Her head snaps up, and she shakes it. “Who’s the blonde with him?”

“Racheal. His wife.”

The color drains from her face as shock and recognition flash across her features. “That’s the woman I saw in your bed. She’s the one…”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive. I’ll never forget what she looked like.”

I take in the weight of her revelation, the lost moments and milestones with Dylan flashing in my mind. Amelia must have spent countless nights alone, wondering why I had abandoned her. The thought makes my chest constrict.

“Those motherfuckers. I’ll take care of them.”

She reaches across the table, her hand closing over mine. The warmth of her touch pulls me back from the brink.

“Let’s not let them ruin our evening.” Her thumb traces gentle circles on my hand, calming me.

I nod and force a smile.

We turn back to the menus and discuss dishes in an attempt to recapture the mood. But the damage has been done, and tension lingers.

The ring in my pocket is a heavy reminder of my intentions for the evening. But the moment has passed. This isn’t the right time, not with Brad and Racheal’s betrayal looming over us.

Our meals arrive, the plates artfully arranged, steam rising in delicate wisps. The food looks exquisite, but I barely taste it. My mind spins, formulating plans and thinking of the best way to get Brad out of my life and company without further damage.

Amelia picks at her food, her usual healthy appetite diminished. I note the tremor in her hand as she lifts her wine glass.

“Are you all right?”

She sets the glass down. “I just…I can’t believe it was her. All this time, I’ve had this image in my head of some faceless woman. And now…”

“Now it’s real.” I finish the thought. “Now it has a name and a face.”

She nods, eyes shimmering. “It makes it worse, somehow. Knowing it was a deliberate act to hurt us both.”

I reach across the table again and take her hand. “The past can’t be changed, Amelia. But we can decide how we move forward from here.”

Her lips quirk into a smile. “Together?”

“Together.” I lift her hand to my lips and kiss her knuckles.

The rest of the meal passes with shared glances and soft conversation. When we step outside into the cool night air, I wrap my arm around her waist, and she leans into me. Her warmth seeps into my skin, quelling the anger still simmering beneath the surface.

The car waits at the curb, and I pull her close as we slide into the back seat. I need the connection to keep myself grounded.

She rests her head on my shoulder, her breathing steady and slow. I kiss her temple, breathing in the soft scent of her perfume.

The ring box in my pocket is alive, pulsing with promise. But not tonight. Soon, though—very soon.

For now, I’m content to hold her close and revel in the simple joy of having her near. We have time. Time to heal, rebuild, and create the life we were always meant to have.

We pull up to the apartment building, and I step out and help her from the car. My hand rests on the small of her back as we go inside. The night doorman nods a greeting, his eyes scanning the street behind us before ushering us into the lobby.

The elevator ride is silent, and when Sharon greets us at the door, she informs us that Dylan is sleeping. I thank her, and after she leaves, Amelia looks at me, her eyes dark with mixed emotions.

“Nathan, I—”

Before she can finish, I close the distance between us and cup her face and kiss her hard. Her response is immediate, her hands threading through my hair as she pulls me closer.

We stumble toward the bedroom. There’s an urgency in our movements, a desperate need to reconnect, to chase away the shadows of the past with the heat of our passion.

Amelia’s breath hitches as my lips travel down her neck, my hands exploring every curve of her body as if it were a landscape I’d never tire of traversing. She shivers as I unhook her bra, freeing her breasts to my hungry gaze. I take a moment to appreciate her beauty before dropping my head to capture one taut nipple in my mouth, swirling my tongue around it until she gasps with pleasure.

Her hands fumble with the buttons of my shirt, eager to feel my skin against hers. I help her, shrugging out of the shirt and tossing it aside. Our mouths meet again in a fiery kiss. We make quick work of the rest of our clothes, our breaths coming in ragged gasps as we fall onto the bed, a tangle of limbs and desire.

I trail kisses down her body, lingering at the soft curve of her belly before moving lower. She spreads her legs for me, opening herself up completely. I can see the glistening evidence of her arousal, and it sends a surge of heat straight to my groin. I dip my head, tasting her with a slow, deliberate lick that makes her buck her hips against my mouth.

“Nathan,” she moans as I continue to explore her with my tongue. I find her clit, circling it before sucking it into my mouth. Her moans grow louder, her body tensing as I bring her closer and closer to the edge.

Before she gets there, though, she pulls me up, desire in her eyes. “I want to taste you too.” She pushes me onto my back and straddles me, her wet heat sliding against my cock in a tantalizing dance before moving down my body, her tongue tracing a fiery path.

When she takes me into her mouth, I groan, the sensation of her warm, wet mouth enveloping me almost too much to bear. She works me with her lips and hands, her eyes locked onto mine, the sight of her pleasure heightening my own.

Tension builds, but I’m not ready to let go yet. I want to be inside her, to feel her come apart around me. I flip her onto her hands and knees. She looks back at me, her eyes heavy-lidded, her lips swollen from our kisses.

I position myself behind her, running my hands over the smooth curves of her ass before gripping her hips. I guide myself to her entrance, feeling her heat and wetness against the tip of my cock. I push in slowly, savoring the feeling of her body yielding to mine.

She moans and pushes back against me, taking me deeper. I start to move, my thrusts slow and deliberate at first, building in speed and intensity as our bodies find their rhythm. The sound of our flesh meeting fills the room, punctuated by our moans and gasps.

I reach around, finding her clit with my fingers, circling it in time with my thrusts. Her body tenses, her inner muscles clenching around me as her orgasm builds. I can feel my own release approaching, the tension in my body coiling tighter and tighter.

“Come with me, Amelia,” I growl, my voice hoarse with desire. And she does, her body convulsing around me as she cries out my name. Her coming undone sends me over the edge, and I forge into her one last time, my body shuddering with the force of my release.

We collapse onto the bed and I pull her close and kiss her shoulder. At this moment, there is no past, no shadows, only us and the heat of our passion burning in the darkness.

Later, as we lie jumbled in the sheets, her head resting on my chest, I stare at the ceiling, my mind still churning. The encounter with Brad and Racheal has shaken something loose, bringing old wounds and new fears to the surface.

“What are you thinking?” Her voice is soft, her breath warm against my skin.

I tighten my arm around her. “About how much time we’ve lost. How many moments I’ve missed with you and Dylan.”

She props herself up on an elbow. “We can’t change the past, Nathan. We can only move forward.”

I tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “I know. And I’m going to make the most of every moment we have from now on.”

She smiles and leans down to kiss me. “I like the sound of that.”