14. Ole

14

Ole

H eld tight to his chest, I gasped, “I’m sorry.”

With my baggage, I was too much for any man too handle. It all happened so long ago. I needed to get past it.

A fat tear rolled down my face. I purposely pulled in a slow, deep, calming, breath.

“Nothing to be sorry for,” he murmured against my hair.

My fingers dug into his biceps. I swallowed the sob in my throat.

Compassion was a novelty. Much more familiar were admonitions to try again, suggestions to just relax, jokes that we weren’t doing it right, and impatience with my hormone-induced mood swings and bouts of melancholy.

It was rare that anyone offered tenderness.

But tenderness from him?

I shuddered.

Overwhelming sorrow hit me often in the first few years after giving up my dream of being a mother, but it had been a while, and I wasn’t prepared for the mental onslaught.

I turned my face away from his only for my gaze to land on the mantle, sunlight glancing off the gold frame of him with his daughter.

Bringing me right back to that place I’d dwelled for so long with so little.

Longing.

Yearning.

Despair.

“Oh no,” I gasped once more in dread as grief slammed into me. I didn’t want it. Not then. Not when I was with him. “I can’t.”

“Shh,” he hushed, his hands running up and down my back.

I pressed my forehead against his chest as the old pain ripped through me anew.

Not a sound escaped my lips, though my mouth opened in a silent scream. Anguish tore me in half. If not for Gabe’s strong arms around me, I would have crumpled.

I fisted my hands in the front of his shirt and hung on valiantly, my broken heart bleeding out over his chest.

He cupped his hand around the back of my head and held me close while his other hand splayed across my back.

“Shae,” he whispered brokenly, pressing his lips to the crown of my head over and over.

My name on his sweet lips.

His strong arms around me while I cried.

A sweet anchor in the storm.

A chill swept through me. How long would it last?

My grip tightened.

What about the next time this happened? At what point would he have enough? Lose his patience and ask me if it wasn’t past time for me to move on?

I snaked my arms around his torso, fighting to calm the firestorm inside me.

He rocked me back and forth. “Did you lose a baby?” he asked softly, his hands tightening even more.

I dug my fingers into his back and nodded, clinging to the rope of his compassion like a drowning woman.

Only this time I was drowning in empathy.

Tenderness.

The sweetest of balms on my broken heart.

“Of every woman I know, you deserve to be a mother.”

I released a shuddering breath. “Thank you,” I stuttered.

He swayed with me in his arms for a moment, then walked me backwards to the couch and tugged me into his lap where he cradled me like a baby.

He dipped his face down, nuzzling my cheek with his nose as my body calmed.

“It hurts.” My voice cracked in an effort to explain.

“I can see that,” he murmured. “Do you want to tell me about it?”

I shook my head and dragged my palms over my cheeks.

I felt strangely lighter as I blinked away the last of my tears. Inhaling him, I pushed off his chest. Sitting on his knee with my hand braced on his shoulder, I searched his eyes, traced the lines of tension in his face, sorry to be feeling so much better when I’d made him feel so much worse.

“I’m sorry. And thank you,” I rasped. “I feel lighter than I have in a long, long, while.”

Somber blue eyes stared back at me steadily. “I’d carry it for you if I could.”

I pressed my lips together. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

I wiped my eyes with the backs of my hands. “Ugh. Show me the rest of your beautiful house and then feed me before I get cranky.”

He chuckled low in his chest, his hand rubbing a slow circle on my back. “Sounds like a plan.”

Standing, I shook out my hands and waited for him to lead me onward.

The house split at the back into two short staircases.

A handful of stairs led up to three bedrooms, one with an ensuite bathroom, and a large, main bath.

The second short set of stairs led down to a wide-open basement boasting the same wide, wooden floors and little else save a boatload of toys including an electric, hot pink, convertible.

A burst of laughter broke from my lips. “Please tell me she drives this outside with you jogging along behind.”

Grinning, he admitted, “I’ve got the gear set so low she can’t go fast. Much to her dismay.”

“I’ll have to see about fixing that,” I teased.

With a light tap on my ass, he pushed me upstairs. “Food.”

We walked down to Krippy’s Chippy on the beach and gorged ourselves on fried fish and fries before hitting up Mary Lou’s Sweet Shoppe for ice cream. By the time we were ready to head back, my heart was light, and I was happy again.

As soon as we got into the house, he spun me around and plastered the front of my body to his front door.

I grunted in surprise.

Taking my wrists, he pulled my arms up over my head. “Keep them there,” he ordered. “I need to look at this ass that’s been driving me crazy all fucking day.”

He stepped away, I arched my back, and he groaned.

Smiling at him over my shoulder, I wiggled my butt.

He grinned. “That’s like a red flag to a bull.”

“Ole!” I wagged my eyebrows.

Chuckling darkly, he dipped his chin and moved in. Pressing his front to my back, he twisted my ponytail around his fist and gently pulled before bowing over me and pressing his mouth to mine in a chaste kiss.

Drawing back, he searched my eyes.

“I love you, Shae,” he murmured. “I know you think it’s fast, but for me, it’s been the slowest moving romance since time began. I’ve been waiting for you to catch up for twenty years.”

“I’m here now,” I promised.

Closing his eyes, he inhaled deeply, his chest rising and falling at my back, and released my hair. His mouth hit my neck, dropping tender, scruffy kisses down to my shoulder at the same time as his hands circled around to the closure of my jeans and pulled them open.

My forehead hit the door as my eyes fluttered shut.

I stepped wider.

One hand dragged over the curve of my hip and down the length of my thigh as the other traced the line of my panties. “Perfect, Shae.”

Perfect, Shae.

I lit up like a Christmas tree, happiness seeping from every one of my pores.

Turning me gently, he tipped my chin up with his hand and dropped his mouth to mine. Exploring softly, he relearned the curve of my bottom lip, the bow at the top.

Shifting ever closer, he cupped my face in his hands and deepened the kiss.

My body, floating and boneless, melded to his.

The rattling of the doorknob followed by a key turning in the lock shocked me out of my passion-ridden stupor.

Gabe’s forehead furrowed. “What the fuck?”

I pushed his hands off my face and danced away from the door, pulling my jeans closed and smoothing my shirt back into place.

Gabe stepped back with me, his wide back shielding me as the door opened to admit his mother.

She looked exactly like I remembered.

Wild, wavy black hair, now liberally highlighted with silver, hung untamed to the middle of her back. Silver bangles stacked up her slim wrists and jingled as she gestured to someone behind her. Earrings dangled from her ears, and she wore not a smidge of make-up.

Maeve was a free spirit, and Gabe’s biggest supporter where his dad tended to be much more serious.

People either loved her or mocked her.

I belonged firmly in the first camp.

Her eyebrows flew up and her eyes widened in surprise as she found Gabe. She smiled widely. “Well, hey there, darlin.’ I didn’t know you were going to be home!”

Gabe spread his hands wide. “And yet, here I am, Ma!”

Maeve’s eyes moved past Gabe and found me. She brightened and grinned for just a second before her attention flew back to her son. “I thought you were going out!”

He guffawed. “What did you expect me to say? I’m bringing Shae over to take her to bed?”

I slapped a hand over my face, feeling the heat climb up from my chest.

Maeve laughed and kissed him on the cheek. “You’re a bloody handful.”

Pushing him aside, Maeve greeted me with a wide smile. “Hey there, Shae darlin.’ It’s good to see you.” With her hands on her hips, she wagged her eyebrows. “Prepare yourself, girlie. The queen bee is on her way up the path.”

Maeve moved out of the doorway, and I saw Dylan in the flesh for the first time.

She was smaller than she seemed in pictures. Her little belly protruded from under a t-shirt that had seen better days. Paired with hot pink leggings dotted with grass stains, she was a hot mess.

And the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.