Risking It All (24 page)

The deep, shuddering breath she drew in then seemed to reverberate through her, and he knew on instinct the grisly, ghostly images played in her mind. The thought of her remembering something so ugly and the havoc it must be wreaking within her twisted like a knife in his gut. In an effort to soothe, he gently stroked her back.

“My father had a hidden panel in the wall, behind this big picture. It was really hard to get in there, and my muscles ached after a while. My parents used to tell me over and over if bad men ever came, I was to go hide and not come out until either they or Detective Morrison came to get me.”

Kyle squeezed his eyes shut against the pain that seized in his chest. She needed to get this out, but every word shredded his insides. By telling her, he’d invariably brought these ugly memories. No matter how much he now knew she deserved the truth, he hated himself for it.

“I’m sorry you had to go through this alone.” He caressed her cheek with the backs of his fingers, unable to resist touching her. “I should’ve been here for you. I wanted to be; I hope you know that.”

She didn’t say anything. In fact, she went eerily still, and the need to ask the question that had been on his mind this last week gripped him. He couldn’t push. Instead, he sat in the darkness and waited. He was here now. That was what counted. The tiny silence filled with the sounds of the night. Crickets chirping, frogs croaking. The grandmother clock on the fireplace mantle chimed the half hour.

He reached up and stroked her cheek. “How are you doing, dealing with these memories?”

“I’m . . . dealing with them. It’s not easy. The nightmares have increased, and I find myself afraid of my own shadow. Every little sound makes me jump.”

“That’s normal, if it helps at all. It’s the PTSD, just stuff coming up. I know you’re angry with me right now, but I’m always here. So is everybody else. You’re not as alone as you likely feel.”

Again, she didn’t say anything. Instead, her head rocked on his shoulder, her fingers picking at nonexistent fuzz balls on her pants. “You were right, you know.”

The deliberate change in subject made his chest ache. Would they ever get back what they’d had? Nevertheless, he went with the flow. The last thing she needed right now was him pressuring her. This wasn’t about him. “About what?”

“My trust fund.” She lifted her head, searching his eyes, confusion in the depths of hers. “There’s a couple million dollars in there. What am I going to do with all of that? I have no need for that kind of money. It’s not who I am, not who Gran raised me to be.”

The hidden meaning in her words spoke to him. She still had trouble assimilating everything.

“You do what you want with it.” He shrugged a shoulder, gently stroking her cheek. “It doesn’t change who you are.”

“What if I don’t know who I am?” Confusion filled her eyes, her voice wobbling.

“I do.” He picked up her hand and gently threaded their fingers. “You’ll always be my Ceci.”

Tenderness flashed in her eyes, and, for a split second, their bond shined between them. He released her hand, unable to resist reaching up to stroke her cheek or letting his thumb graze her lower lip. A shiver ran through her, and the need to lean in and taste those lips seized him, to regain the closeness they’d lost. Although he was damn lucky simply to be here with her, the almost intimate moment brought back those questions. This time, his aching heart demanded answers.

He took her hand again, stroking his thumb across her soft knuckles. “Does this mean you’ve forgiven me?”

In the span of a breath, tension rose like a barrier between them. Her spine stiffened. She remained silent for so long he wasn’t sure she’d answer. Or that he should’ve asked. He was pushing.

“I’ve been asking myself the same question. How could I ask you to come over when my emotions are still tangled?” She laid her head on his shoulder, her forehead resting against his neck, and slipped her arm around his middle. “All I knew was that I needed you. I didn’t want to be alone tonight, and you were the only one I wanted to be with.”

“That’s okay. I’m just glad you called. I’ve been worried sick about you. And I missed you.” He rested his cheek against the top of her head and tightened his hold on her, relishing the small intimacy she bestowed on him. She hadn’t given him the answer he’d hoped for, hadn’t told him everything would be all right between them, but it was a step in the right direction.

***

Cecelia woke the next morning alone in her bedroom. Beyond the window lining the wall behind her, rain pitter-patted against the side of the house, the dismal day filling the room with muted light, adding shadows, despite the clock telling her it was after eight. After their conversation, Kyle had taken her up to bed and wrapped himself around her. They hadn’t talked anymore once he brought her up here. She’d fallen asleep in his arms, luxuriating in the safety his presence gave her.

She turned her head but knew what she’d find even before her gaze connected with the other side of the bed. Though the indented pillow proved last night hadn’t been another figment of her imagination, the bed beside her lay empty, and the house was silent. Doubt flooded her chest, bringing with it a touch of disappointment. He wouldn’t have left, would he?

She pulled herself upright and got out of bed. After a visit to the bathroom, she headed for the stairs. As she reached the landing at the top, signs of life drifted from downstairs—the telltale creaks and groans of someone walking over old, weathered floorboards and the sucking noise her refrigerator door made when it closed. So, Kyle hadn’t left.

The sounds sent a confusing array of emotions pounding through her. The thought of seeing him this morning, of simply being in the same house with him, had her heart hammering a giddy beat. Warmth bloomed in her stomach. Nine days was a long time to go without him. Falling asleep in his arms last night had been . . . bliss. It had been a peaceful night’s sleep. No more nightmares had come after that, because in his arms, she was always safe.

Except she had yet to make a decision about their relationship. He’d no doubt have questions she didn’t know how to answer. Over the last week she must have gone through every emotion known to man. She grieved for the life she’d lost. Raged about being kept in the dark all this time. Cried in confusion and even out of sheer loneliness sometimes. The tears came at the drop of a hat, along with the overwhelming fear. The house only seemed to make it worse, echoing around her, empty and cold.

She’d gone through a million questions as well. Would her life have been the same if her parents had lived? Would she have even met Kyle? Should she still be angry with him? Did she even want to forgive him? Could she?

The only conclusion she’d come to was that she missed him. She missed everything about him. His crooked smile. His corny jokes. The fact she could call him at three in the morning and wake him from a dead sleep and he’d come over, sight unseen. Mostly what she missed was the way being in his arms made everything right. Last night she’d needed him, needed his strength, the safety he gave her, and those emotions took precedence over everything else. Every memory that came back was like reliving that awful day all over again, and they came at random. Everything seemed to be a trigger.

Needing to see for herself that she hadn’t imagined last night, she trotted down the stairs, coming to a stop in the kitchen entrance. Across the room, in front of the stove, wearing a pair of sweats and a T-shirt, Kyle cracked eggs into a bowl. A small frying pan heated on the front burner to the left.

Seeming to sense her presence, he turned his head. Surprise lighted momentarily in his eyes, and then he drew his brows together. “You’re not supposed to be awake yet.”

Drawn to him, by the giddiness bubbling inside her, she moved farther into the room. “What’re you doing?”

“Making you breakfast.” One corner of his mouth curled. “I’m afraid you’ve ruined the surprise.”

She cocked her head to the side as his words slid home. “You were going to bring me breakfast in bed?”

“I was.” He grabbed a wire whisk off the counter, picked up the bowl, and beat the eggs. He poured the contents into the skillet, the mixture sizzling in the heated pan. The delicious scent of warm butter and cooking eggs made her mouth water and her stomach rumble. As he pulled a spatula through the eggs, he darted a glance at her. “I thought you could use a little pampering this morning.”

Tenderness shined in his eyes, his voice every bit as gentle.

She turned her head. The tray she’d bought when her grandmother became sick sat on the table. On it were stacks of toast, cheese cubes, a fresh fruit salad, and a glass of orange juice. An ache filled her chest.

“When I woke up alone, I thought maybe you’d left.” She was embarrassed to admit she’d thought so badly of him. No questions asked and without any expectations, he’d come over, at three in the morning, because she’d said she needed him. Now he was making her breakfast. After she’d told him she wasn’t sure if she could ever forgive him.

The simple yet overwhelming gesture screamed of Kyle, thoughtful, considerate. He never hesitated to put her needs first.

He turned his head, confusion and worry forming a deep crease in his brow. “You look lost. Everything okay?”

She stared into the blue-gray eyes she knew as well as hers. Scenes from the past twenty years played through her mind. The kind sympathy written on his face the first time she met him, down at the riverbank, came first. She remembered being wary of everyone back then, even if she hadn’t known why. His eyes had drawn her in, reassuring her that she could trust him.

Time fast-forwarded, and her senior prom filled her mind. Three years older, Kyle had left high school behind already and was in his third year of college. He’d showed up at her house that night to put fear into her date. The memory had her smiling. His tactic had worked. Her date held her at arm’s length all night. He hadn’t kissed her good night, either, and she’d never seen him again.

Finally, she saw the past few years. Gran’s death, finding out she was pregnant ,and then Kyle wanting to take responsibility for a child who wasn’t even his. He’d been there for all of it, and like now, he hadn’t asked for anything in return.

She could only shake her head. She might not have liked the way he’d gone about it, but he’d done what he had their whole lives—protected her.

The way Gran had. The letter she’d found in the attic drifted through her mind. Gran gave up her entire life, her family, for her. So she’d stay safe. What Kyle had done wasn’t any different. He chose to sacrifice his romantic feelings for her to keep her safe. Because he loved her.

He stroked a hand down her cheek. “Talk to me?”

Staring at him, at the gentle concern in his eyes, the world righted itself again. Everything made perfect sense. He might have done all the wrong things, but he did them for the right reasons. She couldn’t begrudge him that, because Malia was right. All that mattered right then was how glad she was to see him. That he’d stayed. All that mattered was that when push came to shove, she trusted him.

His face blurred behind the tears that filled her eyes.

“I was wrong.” She slowly shook her head and stepped toward him and reached up to stroke his stubbled jaw. Dark circles had begun to form beneath his bloodshot eyes, telling her of the turmoil he’d been through this past week. Her chest constricted and ached as overwhelming regret seized her.

The need to be as close as humanly possible grabbed her. She pressed along his length, nearly weeping when he didn’t question her but welcomed her in.

“About what?” He reached back and turned off the burner, sliding the skillet to the side. Then he closed his arms tightly around her.

She braced her hands against his chest, enjoying the solid warmth of him. His heart beat an erratic pace beneath her palms. “You. Me. Us. Everything. I was so angry with you for lying to me, for keeping something from me, I thought you had no right to decide—”

“I didn’t. My heart was in the right place, but whether or not you were strong enough to handle the information wasn’t my choice to make. I let my fear for your safety cloud my judgment.” A soft smile touched his lips, amusement lighting in his eyes. “I can search out the tiniest clue to solve a case, take pride in the fact that I keep my emotions separate from the job, but when it comes to you, I don’t think so straight.”

“I don’t need you to protect me.” She pressed closer, sliding her hands around his rib cage and up his back. “All I’ve ever wanted was for you to be there when I need you.”

“I always will.” He leaned his forehead against hers, a soft vulnerability in his eyes. “Tell me you forgive me.”

The whispered words, the fear contained within them, lodged themselves in her heart. Nine days seemed like forever to go without him, and every need she’d denied herself over the last week and a half flooded through her. More than she ever thought possible, she ached to be as close as humanly possible and regain what they’d almost lost. God, to think of how close she’d come to losing him . . .

She lifted onto her toes and brushed her mouth over his, feeling too much like she was starving and he was sustenance. “On one condition.”

He didn’t question her, but bent his head, his warm breath whispering over her mouth. “What’s that?”

She nipped at his bottom lip. “Don’t ever leave me again.”

A low growl rumbled out of him, half hot, husky arousal, but all relief. “God, I thought I’d never hear you say that to me again.”

“I need you. That’s what I realized last night. At dinner last week, Malia gave me some advice. Turns out, she was right. It doesn’t matter anymore why you kept the truth from me. All that matters is that when push comes to shove, I need you, and I’ll always need you.”

“Thank you. For forgiving me.” His arms tightened around her, and he kissed her softly, a light brush of his lips that quickly grew into something hotter, needier.

For a moment, she lost herself in the taste and feel of him. His lips played over hers, soft and electric, as they reacquainted themselves. But with every tender sip and taste, the need grew to ravishing proportions. His hands shook as he slid them down her back to cup her bottom. He pulled her tight against him, pushing his arousal into her belly. A hot little shudder swept the length of her spine, and all sensation pooled between her thighs. Just that fast, he had her body melting into his.