Light in Mourning (Mourning, #2) (20 page)

He throbbed as my body milked every ounce he had to give. His eyes fluttered closed and his head fell down on my chest. Golden hair tickled my breasts as gasps wracked his body. I held him tight to me, so tight I could never let him go. He gave me everything he had each time we were together, and I felt it. He was always with me. It was unlike anything I'd ever experienced before.
 

I lifted my hand, the weight of the ring he'd given me alerting me to its presence. The diamond glittered in the sunlight and tears pricked beneath my eyelids. I was so happy. So full when we were together. I wanted for absolutely nothing as long as he was in my arms.
 

I weaved my fingers into his sexy bed-head hair and held onto him for dear life. If he ever left, it would destroy me. There was no one else for me but him, and after all I’d gone through with Kyle, I was only sad it’d taken me so long to see it. Tristan and I had gone through hell and back together, and my body calmed at the notion we would only get better. Things could only go up for us.

“I love you so fucking much,” Tristan murmured as his hands skimmed up either side of my torso, his elbows propped on the desk beside me. He lifted his upper body off me and looked in my eyes. “I made you late,” he murmured against my lips.
 

“No better reason to be late than having a fuck on your desk.” A smile tipped my lips.
 

“Jesus, Georgia.” He nipped at my lips, a beautiful grin breaking out across his face. “I want to keep you here all day. Chain you to my desk and make you my sex slave.” He arched a flirty eyebrow.
 

“Didn’t know you were so kinky.” I grinned and clenched my core around him.

He sucked in a sharp breath as he slowly began to pull out of me. The slow drag of his cock against my hypersensitive nerves made a small moan escape my throat. “I can do kinky, baby. I can do whatever you need me to do as long as I get to bury myself between your beautiful thighs.” He flashed me a heart-stopping grin.
 

I locked my legs around his waist before he could fully pull out of me. “Not yet,” I murmured and pulled him back to me. I wrapped my arms around his sweat-slicked body and traced my nails up and down his back. A shiver ran through him as he tucked his nose beneath my ear and ran one hand into my messy hair.
 

“You’re going to be late,” he muttered.
 

“I want to stay here with you,” I whispered into his hair, his intoxicating fresh scent taking over my senses.
 

“You’ve been waiting for this appointment for a long time.” He traced a thumb over my eyebrow, across my lips, over my cheekbone.
 

“I don’t want to go.” I pouted.
 

“I don’t want you to go either, but you have to, baby,” he whispered as he slowly pulled out of me. I shut my eyes tight and held my breath, enjoying the last sensations that ran through me as he pulled out. I sucked my lip between my teeth and shut my eyes tight. He was still hard. Jesus, I couldn’t get enough of him.
 

 
“Baby, don’t make that face,” he muttered once he was disconnected from me.

“What?” My eyes flashed open in confusion.
 

“Like you want me again.”

“I do.”
 

“You’re a horny girl. Insatiable,” he muttered before kissing my lips and then pulling away to tuck himself back into his jeans. My lips turned down in a pout.
 

“Up and at ’em.” He slapped my bare thigh playfully.
 

“I just want to stay here.” I stretched my arms up over my head, feeling my muscles pulling taut. A groan escaped Tristan’s throat before I looked up at him. His eyes darted across my body, landing on my pebbled nipples.
 

“So fucking hot.” He skimmed a hand up my stomach and between my breasts. My nerves reawakened and my nipples hardened painfully. “Oh no, you have to go.” He gave my nipple a rough pinch before picking up my jeans and panties and tossing them in my direction. My eyes clouded with lust as he turned to pick up the paperwork from the floor that had fallen when he’d thrown me on the desk.
 

“Insatiable.” He shook his head when he caught the look in my eyes. I grinned before peeling myself off his desk and pulling my panties and jeans up my thighs.

“Do I look thoroughly fucked?” I grinned.
 

“You’ve got a potty mouth, Miss Montgomery.” He wrapped a hand into my hair and kissed my lips. “Now get to your appointment.” He swatted me on the ass before I turned. I gave my hips a seductive shake and threw him a grin over my shoulder, leaving his office and heading to my first therapy appointment.

At the end of May, we got a call that had us rushing down to Jacksonville. Drew was in labor, more than a week late, and Georgia wasn’t willing to miss it for the world. She’d hired a caretaker for the house and a maid to come in, between guests. I'd come to realize it might be difficult for her to live right next door and I wondered if buying the tiny beach cottage next to the beach rental had been a good idea. It seemed to add an extra layer of stress, but so far, whenever I mentioned moving or buying something else, she wouldn’t hear of it. I hoped that the stress would ease with time and, other than taking care of the big things, she could put the rental out of her mind.
 

We took the Jeep down to Jacksonville, Charlie in the back, and stayed for a week after little Bennett was welcomed into the world. Georgia attended labor and delivery with Drew and Gavin. Drew, through a haze of blissful tears, asked Georgia to be the little guy’s godmother. She happily accepted. Regardless of the title, I knew she would be like a second mom to him. She had presents stacked in the back of the Jeep on the drive down, bought more when we were there, and helped out with feedings and diaper changes all through the night.

When we left a week later, the sad look on Georgia's face nearly broke my heart. She was leaving a piece of her heart with that squirmy little shit and it softened my heart to her and our future together all the more.
 

Another month passed, and we were in full summer swing. The beach house was booked through September and we were getting off-season calls for October. Turned out owning a rental on the North Carolina beach was a great investment, one that would more than pay the bills with little effort. All it took was some upkeep inbetween rentals, which we, for the most part, hired out when needed. Georgia had started writing in her free time; her new therapist had explained it was a form of therapy. A way to release the pain and fear she'd held onto for so long. She enjoyed it, and I loved watching her in the morning on the deck, laptop across her legs as she typed away. I didn't know what she was writing down and I didn't ask. I just knew that a sense of calm seemed to radiate out from her when she finally put it down for the day.
 

Georgia also received a letter from the parole board stating parole had been denied. I held her in my arms as she sobbed; her reaction surprised me at first. Wasn't this what she wanted? What she hoped for? Until she explained it was a cleansing of sorts. Happy tears and sad tears together: happy because she didn't want him released after serving just sixteen years for the brutal murder of her parents, but also sadness because he had a family he'd left abandoned—a wife without her husband and a son without a father. I didn't agree with this line of thinking at all; for all we knew, they were much better off without him, but I kept my mouth shut and let her cry. It was the least I could do.
 

We were also starting to talk about wedding plans. I was on her ass to set a date. I wasn’t willing to let her slip through my fingers or give her a chance to wise up and dump my ass. I knew I had it good; I knew with my past, she could easily choose to be wary. She was old hat at relationships but I was a newbie. The old me would have been scared. The notions of a family and wife were new to me—something I hadn't given much thought to before—but now it was here, I wasn’t worried in the slightest.
 

I was pushing for a fall wedding, but Georgia rolled her eyes every time I tried to convince her. She wanted something well-thought-out and planned. She argued she’d moved in with me on impulse and said yes on impulse, but she was not willing to get married on impulse. After weeks of working on her, I finally got her nailed down for spring. She wanted a small wedding on the beach, right here at our home, just our closest friends and family. It sounded perfect.
 

We were having this very discussion on a warm day at the beginning of July when a loud knock sounded at the door. Georgia lifted her eyebrows in surprise and then slid back through the French doors. She called my name a few minutes later, so I tracked in after her. I stepped up behind her, sliding my palm up her neck and giving her a soft massage before my eyes turned to the guest standing at the doorway.
 

“What’s up?” I asked my beautiful fiancée, who was looking up at me with a confused expression.
 

“Tristan?” The woman in the doorway murmured my name. I glanced at her, searching her face. I was sure I didn’t know her. “It’s okay, baby.” She pulled a little boy, not more than three or four, from behind her. A mass of tousled blond hair and light green eyes stared back at me. “This is your daddy, honey.”

My heart roared in my ears. It beat so fucking fast I swore it would fly out of my chest. I met the woman’s eyes, unable to speak, searching for answers. I didn’t fucking know her. At least I didn’t think I knew her. But that kid—that kid could have been me at four. His hair, his eyes, I didn't want to believe it, but the resemblance couldn't be denied.

“I’ll let you guys talk.” Georgia pulled away from me.
 

“No. Don’t leave.” I pulled her closer to me, searching her eyes, begging her not to walk away. I swallowed the huge lump that had formed in my throat. I felt Georgia shuffle beside me. Shit, I’d forgotten how she must be feeling. She must have been able to see how much he looked like me. Would she run? Would this be the last straw? This summer had been so perfect, everything about it—from our engagement on—and was it all about to shatter at my feet?
 

The sad thing was I couldn’t blame her if she did run.
 

This was her greatest fear. Her biggest insecurity when it came to us—my past. And here it was, three feet tall and starting up at me.
 

“It’s okay.” I watched her take a deep breath. “Hey, little guy, want to take a walk with me? We can look for sea glass on the shore.” She bent down to his level and I watched their interaction, tears burning the back of my eyes. I ran a hand through my hair and pulled. I was going to be fucking bald before I hit thirty, without a doubt. I chomped down on my lip painfully. I couldn’t imagine what Georgia was feeling, but if this kid was mine, I had to be there. It just tore me up inside that I couldn’t have this with Georgia, because she was the girl I wanted. I didn’t want this with anyone but her, but now here we were, another wrench thrown in our path.