Cross the Line (Boston Love Story #2) (28 page)

“I didn’t know,” she whispers brokenly, horror in her clear blue eyes. “I had no idea, Phoebe…”

“I know.” I try a smile, but my lips won’t cooperate. “None of this is your fault, Gemma.”

“But…” She swallows hard, and I know she’s overwhelmed. “I understand if you hate me. I understand.”

In that moment, I think about Nate. Hear his voice in my head.

Never say it. Even if you don’t mean it.

I think about my mother, even at her most fragile, telling me not to be afraid to test my wings no matter what life throws at me.

Fly far, little bird. Jump the nest.

I steady my shoulders and meet Gemma’s eyes. “We didn’t have a choice about how we got here. Not one of us,” I say, squeezing her hand tighter. “But we have a choice now.”

She squeezes back.

I take a deep breath. “I loved my mother. It took me a long time to forgive her for leaving us. It took me an even longer time to forgive my father for his part in making her leave. But I did, because when it comes down to it… you either die alone, surrounded by the ghosts of all the people who ever let you down, or you live a life full of flawed people whose imperfections you’ve made a choice to overlook. I don’t know about you but if given the choice, I’ll pick the imperfections every time. I choose understanding over resentment, love over hate, forgiveness over loneliness.” I look at Parker. “Some of us are still working on the forgiveness part.”

His eyes are still red, but his lips tug up in a half smile.

I take a deep breath. “You don’t get to pick your family. You don’t get to choose the people who work their way into your heart and build a home there.” My eyes move to Nate. “And life is too damn short not to spend it with the people who matter. Not to say
I love you
when you still can. Not to hold each other close and admit, out loud,
You matter to me. My life wouldn’t be the same without you.

Something stirs at the back of Nate’s eyes, and I turn away before it makes me break down.

I look at Parker. “I love you. You matter to me. My life wouldn’t be the same without you.”

“I love you too, Sweet P,” he says. His voice is gruffer than usual, and I know he’s holding his emotions tightly in check. 

I look at Gemma, smiling through my tears. My voice cracks.  “I love you. You matter to me. My life wouldn’t be the same without you.”

Her tears drip faster and she nods, unable to speak. Her eyes return my sentiment, though. Tenfold.

I extend my free hand, the one not twined with Gemma’s, and hold it out for my brother to take. After a moment’s hesitation, his palm engulfs mine in a warm grip. The three of us stand there for a long time, tethered together by the tips of our fingers as much as we are by our common strands of DNA. 

We didn’t have a choice about how we got here.

But we have a choice now.

And as I clutch my siblings’ hands, I know we’ve made the right one.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

 

I know we name our dogs… But do

you think they name us, too?

 

Phoebe West, wondering whether Boo refers to her

as She-With-Many-Shoes or She-Who-Feeds-Me.

 

The loft is quiet when Nate opens the door and ushers me inside. Boo is curled in my arms, sleeping soundly. He barely stirred when we finally left the penthouse and headed back to Knox Investigations. It was all I could do to get him to pee on the patch of grass outside before his puppy eyes drifted closed again. All this moving around has really messed up his beauty-sleep schedule.

I figured Parker would crash at Nate’s again but he headed to his boat instead, promising to meet us at the private airfield where we keep the jet at seven sharp. Nate assures me one of his men is keeping close tabs on Parker, in case Mac’s boys decide to change things up by kidnapping a different West sibling.

Now I understand the conversation between Nate and my father at the WestTech offices.

Does Mac know about her?

They’d been talking about Gemma.

“So…” I set Boo down on the couch, grab the plush duck toy out of my duffle bag, and set it beside him, grinning as I watch him curl up with it. “That was heavy. New York Cheesecake heavy. Fettuccine Alfredo heavy. Double chocolate milkshake heavy.”

Nate looks at me, eyebrows raised. “You hungry?”

“No, I ate, like, four cupcakes.” My brow knits. “Why?”

“Your analogies were all food related.”

“I couldn’t think of other heavy things.”

“Seriously?” His lips twitch as he stares at me. “Bowling ball. Elephant. Bag of bricks. Stonehenge. Orca whale.” He pauses. “I could go on…”

“That’s the wrong kind of heavy, smartass.” I roll my eyes and walk toward the bed. “I meant the kind of heavy that sits in the pit of your stomach and makes you feel sort of nauseous.”

“Cheesecake makes you nauseous?” he asks, amused. “That’s funny. I seem to remember you consuming several pieces at the WestTech Christmas party last year.” He grins. “And by
several
I mean
four
.”

“You know what’s odd?” I ask, spinning to face him with my hands planted on my hips. “You know what I do on Thanksgiving. You know where I take my lunch breaks. You know how I drink my coffee. You know my favorite type of seltzer.” I pause. “If I didn’t know better, I’d swear you’ve been keeping close tabs on me for years, Nathaniel.”

He crosses his arms over his chest. “And if I have?”

I reach for the zipper on the side of my dress. “I’d be obligated to tell you it’s creepy and weird.”

His lips tug up on one side. “Really?”

“Yep.” I start to slowly work the zipper down my side. His eyes darken. “It’s not normal to stalk people. Just for the record.”

“Well, add this to your record: the things I feel for you aren’t normal, little bird.”

My heart leaps in my chest. “Is that so?”

He nods and takes a step toward me as the zipper reaches the end of its tread. “What are you doing?”

“Getting ready for bed,” I say innocently.

His eyes find mine. “Phoebe…”

I release the fabric and the dress slides halfway down my body, exposing my black strapless bra. “Yes?”

His stare is hot as it roams my skin. It follows my fingers as I push the dress further down my hips.

“We have to be at the airport in six hours,” he reminds me, taking another step closer.

“Plenty of time,” I breathe, as the dress pools around my ankles. I step out, so I’m standing in only my Kate Spade pumps and a lace bra and panty set. I see his chest moving up and down as he attempts to get his breathing under control.

I flick the clasp of my bra and it tumbles to the floor.

“Unless…” I trail off, lifting a hand to my mouth and faking a large yawn. “I guess if you’re too tired…”

I see a flash of his grin — dark and devilish — in the second before he launches into motion.

***

We wrap around each other like vines, entwining tighter with each passing moment. I kiss him with joy in my heart and realize all the anger I spent years harboring toward him is finally gone. All the feelings of inadequacy and hopeless unrequited love have fled on the wind. He’s forced them out. Chipped away at the walls of the tiny box I’d shoved him into — with dark-eyed looks and teasing comments and passion-fueled fights and breath-stealing kisses — until the tiny cage where I’d locked him away for almost a decade disappeared entirely.

His eyes never leave mine as I pull his shirt over his head, as he kicks off his jeans and stretches out over me, until we’re skin on skin with not a single barrier left between us. The veins cord tightly in his arms as he braces his body above mine. I kiss him again as my legs loop around his hips to pull him against me.

“Come closer,” I demand, arching up into him.

“Oh, I’ll come.” He grins against my mouth as his hands slide lower. “But not before you do.”

Holy frack.

For what feels like an eternity, his fingers move over my skin – a bow over strings, pulling notes of pleasure from my body until I’m shaking with it. He’s the conductor and I’m his private symphony, crying at his command and singing at his touch until the melody of passion he’s been playing with his hands builds to a crescendo and I can’t take another moment of torture without him inside me.

“Nate,” I whisper, a chord of desperation in my tone. “Please.”

“Are you sure?” he mutters, control hanging by a thread as he stares down into my eyes. “We don’t have to do this, if you aren’t ready. If you want to wait…”

“We’re naked. There’s a condom on your dick. Your hands are on my boobs. I just
licked your abs
with my tongue.” I glare at him. “What possibly gave you the impression that I don’t want to do this?”

His forehead drops to mine. “I just want you to be sure. This isn’t the kind of thing you get to do-over.”

“Nate.” I kiss him until we’re both shaking with need. “You keep saying I’ve been waiting — don’t you know what I’ve been waiting for?”

He stares at me with a question in his eyes.

“You,” I whisper. “I’ve been waiting  for you.”

“Phoebe.” His voice vibrates with electricity and emotion. “
Phoebe
.”

In the space between two heartbeats, he drives into me and changes my life forever.

***

Not long ago, I thought of Nate and me as a natural disaster that would kill us both. Two opposing landmasses whose collision would cause catastrophic damage to both sides if they ever gave way beneath the tension building between them.

I was right; we are an earthquake.

We shift and sigh and shape each other with fingertips and lips — until the ground shakes and boundaries fall, until fault lines are crossed and every bit of terrain is left unrecognizable.

Nate makes love to me and it levels us both to rubble.

But there’s beauty in the wreckage. Pleasure in the pain. Because, in the end, his ruins are indiscernible from mine. We’re together when the dust settles and the shakes subside, holding each other so close I can’t tell my soul from his.

***

“Do you remember the first day we met?” I ask absently, running my fingers down the length of his bare chest.

He goes still. “Of course I do.”

“Do you remember the prayer you came up with to bless the bird funeral?”

A chuckle moves through him. “I think it was
I Believe I Can Fly
by R. Kelly.”

“I thought you were
so
cool.” I laugh lightly. “So grown up and original. Had I known you were just plagiarizing sub-par R&B songs, I wouldn’t have been half as enamored with you.”

He tilts my head up so our eyes meet. The soft look in his makes my heart turn over. “You were enamored with me, huh?”

“Yep.” I nod. “Thankfully I grew out of
that
nonsense.”

He leans in and nips my bottom lip in punishment. “Bullshit.”

I laugh and kiss him until my blood is pounding in my veins. My laughter dies as I hold his stare.

“Do you remember what we vowed? After we buried the bird?”

His hands slide up the bare skin of my back. “I said you’d never catch me falling in love,” he whispers, voice rough around the edges. “Because I wasn’t going to risk dying of a broken heart.”

I nod slowly. “And I agreed it wasn’t worth the risk.” A small grin tugs at my mouth. “Then again, I would’ve agreed with almost anything you said — you were much older and wiser, with vast life experience and extensive song-lyric knowledge.”

“What do you mean
were
?” he jokes. “I’m still older and wiser and my music collection has only expanded, through the years.” 

I snuggle closer, until my chin rests on his chest, just above his heart. I know if I turn my cheek a few inches, I’ll be able to hear it pounding beneath the skin.

“Thing is…” I swallow. “I broke the vow we made that day.”

His heart pounds faster — I feel it vibrating through his ribcage. “Did you, little bird?”

“Yeah.” I nod miserably, doing my best to fight back the tears building behind my eyes. “I said I wasn’t ever going to fall in love, but…” I swallow hard. “I did.”

He’s silent for the longest five seconds of my lie.

“You want to hear something crazy?” he says finally.

I nod.

“I broke that vow the day we made it.” His eyes catch mine, burning brighter than I’ve ever seen them. “I’ve been in love with you since you looked up at me with wet eyes and told me a story about birds who mate for life. About love so powerful, you can’t live without the other person. Can’t move on, can’t forget, can’t even breathe without them by your side.” He shifts to cup my face in his hands. “I spent a long time trying to convince myself you were better off without me. That keeping away from you was the best way to keep you safe. But I can’t do it anymore. I won’t. See, you and I mated for life about a million years ago, little bird. Without you, there’s no music. No love. No life.”

A single tear escapes. He brushes it away with the pad of his thumb.

“Are you going to cry?” he asks, echoing his words from long ago, that day we buried a dove beneath my maple tree.

“No,” I say in a choked voice, lips trembling with effort.

“Do you love me, little bird?”

“Yes,” I croak, barely able to speak.

“Forever?”

“Yes.” Another tear escapes. “I’ve loved you since you hopped that fence into my back yard, and I’ll love you until my last breath. Even if you
are
bossy and rude about my footwear choices.”

“Good.” I feel his grin against my forehead as he presses a kiss there. “Because I have no intentions of ever dying of a broken heart.” 

***

We don’t sleep. I think we both know time is running too short, that our hours together in this bed are numbered and real life is approaching at hyper speed. So we laugh and love and touch and talk until dawn is knocking at the door.

“We have to go.” Nate’s voice is full of regret as he drops a kiss on the tip of my nose. “It takes thirty minutes to drive to the airfield.”

“Do I really have to go?” I ask, though I already know the answer.

“I need you safe, little bird.”

I sigh. “But maybe Milo came through. Maybe he somehow worked things out with Mac and…” I trail off, recognizing the naivety of my own words even as they leave my mouth.

“Believe me, if I thought it was safe, I’d keep you here with me.” Another kiss lands on my nose. “I don’t want you to go. But you and Parker are better off away from here, until things are resolved.”

“Come with us,” I whisper.

“As soon as we settle things with Mac, I’ll be on the first plane.” The love shining in his eyes is so bright, it lights up the room. “I promise.”

“You make it sound simple. Like everything is easily fixable. But you can’t just walk up to the Irish mob and say
Hey, let’s let bygones be bygones.
” My brow crinkles. “What if you get hurt? What if—”

“Nothing’s going to happen to me.” His words are adamant as presses a lingering kiss to my mouth. “Now get your ass out of bed, pull on some clothes, and put on a pair of those damn sexy shoes that will no doubt give me a hard-on for the next week.” He slides off the bed, bends to scratch Boo behind the ears, and struts into the kitchen, naked as the day he was born.

Holy frack.

“Phoebe!” he calls a moment later, when he catches me staring.

“Yeah?” I gulp.

“My eyes are up here.” His voice is thick with amusement. “Now get changed.”

I lift my glaring eyes to his and hop out of bed.

***

“You have everything?”

I shoot him a look. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were stalling because you don’t want me to leave your lair.”

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