Breathe Again (28 page)

“Are you staying here?” I heard Tanzi ask as Max and I joined the group.

Sav’s eyes darted to the house behind her and raised a brow. “Whose house is this?”

“It’s yours and Tate’s.”

“What?” she questioned with wide eyes. “Our house? Tate?”

“Can I speak to you alone?” I didn’t bother waiting for a reply. I grabbed her hand, dragging her away from the group and towards the house since this wasn’t a conversation I wanted to have in front of our son.

With my hand still clasped tightly with hers, we moved through the house to the living room. Standing in the middle of the empty room, everything seemed to hit me with full force at once. Savannah was back, standing in front of me, looking at me with anticipation. I felt the familiar rumblings of my attraction for her taking over every inch of me and there was damn well nothing I could do about it. Her eyes traveled to our joined hands and immediately I dropped them, folding my arms across my chest.

“I would prefer if you stayed with us,” I demanded, dropping my eyes to look at her.

“When did you buy this house?”

“About a month ago. I was planning on telling you when I came to Australia.”

“Oh, the trip that Chelsea decided to wreck. Always fucking Chelsea.”

I breathed in deeply, begging to keep calm. “I haven’t seen Max in three months and I’d appreciate if you would stay here. I need to get to know my son again.”

“I’d never keep you from your son Tate.”

And just like that, the switch was turned on to the enraged feelings I had kept locked away for the past three months. “Are you serious? Are you not aware of the three months that you were away?” I snorted.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know what to do. Do you think I enjoyed being on the other side of the world, watching Mr. Davenport almost die in front of me? Do you think I wanted to be apart from you? I didn’t know what the fuck to do and I’m sorry!” Her voice rang through the living room, shocking me with the intensity of her words. “We missed you.”

“Don’t say that. This isn’t about you,” I hissed as my heart began thudding in my chest.

“I missed you.”

“Well why didn’t you come home?” I spat. “Why the fuck did it take you three months to decide that I was worth coming home for? I don’t know what the fuck to do. I want you in every sense of the word, but why should I even bother? I can’t help but feel like it will only be a matter of time before you run off again.”

“Why do you have to be such an arsehole?”

I felt the boiling of emotions rip through me, stabbing me brutally with truth and fear. This woman standing before me held my heart so tight in her hands that I felt like I was bleeding for her, I would change the fucking world for her, but did she even realize that? Looking at her, I found her face crumbling as she glared back at me. I saw the hurt flying through her eyes, and without reasoning, I lost all sense of rationality.

In two steps, I pulled her towards me with so much vigor that she collided into my chest. Lifting her from the ground, my hands swept under her skirt, kneading her ass through her lace panties. My heart thumped dangerously fast in my chest as my eyes dominated hers. I thrust her against the wall with such force that the side table against the wall shook and the lamp crashed to the floor, but I didn’t even care. All I wanted now was to taste her and rattle her feelings like she was rattling mine.

“Tate,” she moaned as my lips crashed to her neck, biting, sucking, and kissing the delicious flesh. Fuck, I had missed her taste, her noises, and the feeling of her body slamming against mine.

Her legs squeezed around my body as my mouth finally encased hers, taking with it her breath and claiming its ownership. Three months of pent-up frustration and loneliness was forced into this kiss, and I wouldn’t stop until she was breathless and panting for more. My tongue ran the length of her bottom lip, pushing its way into her willing mouth as my body ground up against hers. She whimpered into the kiss, her hands thrusting into my hair, pulling and twisting it within her fingers. Fuck, I’d missed this. I didn’t have time for romantic kisses. I needed this kiss to be frantic and brutal, devouring and consuming.

“We will stay,” she exhaled against my lips, pulling away to gain a desperate breath and allowing me to realize exactly what we were doing. Her breathing was ruthless, broken, and desperate.

“Thank you.” I took a step back and sat on the edge of the couch, my eyes never leaving her. “This is the home I bought for the three of us, Savannah. I wanted to make a home, a place to call our own.”

“Wanted?” she asked, her voice dropping to almost a whisper.

I stood and walked out of the living room and back to the party without answering her question. I was a weak prick when it came to Savannah, and my weakness was on full display. So as usual, I had let my dick decide what I wanted just as it usually did when it came to Savannah Rae.

Taking the stairs two at a time, I stepped on the grass and immediately Tanzi and Jack looked at me suspiciously. Jack’s eyes jumped and looked over my shoulder and I knew Savannah had just stepped out of the door. Looking over my shoulder, I noticed that her face was still flushed and her lips were swollen. It was obvious to every single person what had happened.

“Good to see you, Tate.” Mr. Davenport’s low voice shocked me. I turned towards the man who had greeted death’s door head-on and had come out the other side. Holding out his hand, he shook mine firmly. “He’s perfect, isn’t he?”

“Yeah,” I said in quick response. “How are you feeling?” I asked, desperately trying to clear the lump that was forming in my throat from the sight of Max.

“I am all clear. Final tests showed no long-term damage.”

“I’ve missed so much,” I admitted softly, my eyes never leaving Max. “Can I ask you something? Why didn’t she come home a month ago? You had the all clear but she still stayed away.”

“I can’t speak on her behalf, and you need to speak with her, but she had her reasons. My accident took her back to her darkest days, Tate, to a time where you or the life she is living now didn’t exist. At that time it was Sav, her parents, and me. That was her life. Since her parents died, she has blamed herself for some crazy reason and she thought she could do something to stop what happened, and that’s what she thought when I was in hospital. All I can ask is that you give her a chance to explain. Listen to her and then decide what you want to do. You do something amazing to her, and in all the time I’ve known her, I’ve never seen her more alive than when she is with you. You have given her life again and a future.” He patted my shoulder quickly and moved towards Savannah, who I hadn’t noticed was watching us. Her face dropped suddenly. She scooped Max up in her arms, walked to Tanzi and Jack, and hugged them both.

I stormed across the yard towards them. Jack’s eyes connected with mine in silent discussion before dropping to Max in warning.

“I might actually take the little guy inside,” Sav spoke softly. She took a step towards me, breaking the distance I had put between us. “I never ran from you, Tate,” she whispered, her eyes showing sadness and regret before turning with Max in her arms and walking towards the stairs leading to the house.

All I knew was that my heart was still hers but my mind was telling me to be careful. I wanted nothing more to continue what we had started inside and tell her that no matter what I loved her, but the heart she owned was now bruised by the distance it had suffered because of her.

Savannah

I
STUMBLED
up the stairs and through the front door with Max tucked safely in my arms. I was trying desperately to keep my emotions in check, but the threat of tears was almost too overwhelming. I refused to completely lose it in front of my little boy; his questions on why Mummy was crying would crush me and I wouldn’t be able to answer him. My body still hummed from the effects of Tate’s aggressive kiss, the taste of him lingering on my lips and now taunting my thoughts. It scared me how easily I was so willing to submit to him.

“Mummy, where are we?” Max’s tired voice asked from the confines of my chest. His head sleepily looked around the space, taking in the new surroundings.

“This is Daddy’s place. How ‘bout we go and have a little snooze and we can talk about it later?” I whispered, pushing back the chocolate brown hair falling on his forehead. He nodded his head slowly and snuggled back in as exhaustion took over his tiny body.

The oversized cream-colored couch taking over the vast living space being flooded by late afternoon California sunshine grabbed my attention. The bitch known as jet lag was swallowing me by the second and the couch was calling my name. Max’s body was limp in my arms, and his soft, constant breathing told me that he had finally crashed out.

Taking my handbag off my shoulder and placing it on the bench I quietly moved back to the couch and lay down with my little man. He cuddled up close to my body and wrapped his little arm over my stomach. It was a peace I always loved. Within seconds, I felt the familiar wave of sleep invading my exhausted body and I was soon out to the world.

The sound of giggling startled me as I came back to consciousness. My eyes fluttered open, and for a moment in my post sleep bliss, I lost all sense of where I was. The couch beside me was void of Max and panic hit me. I shot up from the couch and my head swung around the room, desperate to find any sign of him. The unease of how quiet the house was petrified me. Max was never this quiet, and if he was, it was because he was into something he shouldn’t be and his mischievous streak was barging through—something I liked to blame on Tate.

“Max, where are you?” I pleaded as I rushed out of the living room, my eyes frantically darting around the emptiness around me.

“Mummy!” The sound of Max’s excited voice froze me on the spot. Turning towards the area his voice had sounded from, I hurried into the large kitchen.

My eyes anxiously searched the chrome and white kitchen, still unable to see him. As I reached the kitchen island, I heard the sound of a door opening from what I assumed was the hall, and the sound of Tate’s voice echoed through the air. I closed my eyes, briefly falling into the deep, soothing voice of Tate, but then the giggle of Max ripped me from my intoxication of the man I would fight for until the day I no longer existed, and boy, did it seem I had a fight on my hands.

“Oh, Maxey, what are you doing?” I breathed out with a laugh when I finally found him near the far kitchen counter.

Max looked up at me, a killer grin taking over his precious face and those blue eyes that got me every time twinkling in front of me. Surrounding him on the floor were Sharpies in every color imaginable with lids off, his arms and chest that were now covered in squiggles, lines, circles, and different creations causing my laughter.

“Look, Mummy, I have drawings like Daddy. I have a ball and my name and a puppy dog,” he stated with pride, pointing out his various
tattoos
to me. “Daddy!” Max squealed.

My body stiffened and I felt the air shift around me as the familiar feeling of being near Tate lingered in the air. My body ignited in the way only he could make it and it ached to feel him in every possible way. He had and would always have the resilient ability to make my brain turn to mush and my body to become his own without question. Once again, I was involuntarily succumbing to the damn Tate Connors Effect.

Hesitantly glancing over my shoulder, I found Tate leaning against the door frame, watching Max closely, a smile tugging on his lips, and my breath caught. His hair was wet and he wore a shirt that sat close to his perfectly toned chest, showing me the outline of the flawless canvas I had sucked, kissed, bitten, and touched so many times before. He was like a walking freaking aphrodisiac.

“They look great,” Tate said softly with a hint of amusement in his voice. He sauntered past me without a glance through the kitchen towards Max and crouched down to study his ‘tattoos’ closer.

Max looked at Tate in pure admiration. His eyes were wide as he looked at Tate’s torso, trying to see the drawing he had seen earlier. “I want to be like him, Mummy.” Max announced while looking at Tate with a silly grin. Tate’s damn tattoo had gained another victim.

My heart clenched at the innocence of Max’s words and the fact that he had absolutely no idea how much he was already like Tate. Their similarities comforted yet broke my heart. My time in Australia had been one of the toughest times of my life and it was because this little boy had been with me that it had allowed me to feel like Tate had still been with me. They shared the deep blue eyes that made me weak at the knees and the eyes that would get me to do whatever the hell they wanted. Max’s cheekiness was clearly derived from his father, but it was the look of determination and stubbornness that reminded me daily of Tate.

Tate’s eyes locked with mine and my heart rate quickened as he drew me in at a rapid rate. His face showed emotion, no sign of what he was thinking, and no insight to what he wanted from me.

“I should go and wash this off,” I whispered, knowing full well that my voice was showing no sign of confidence or want to leave the lock of his gaze.