Found (Captive Heart #2) (13 page)

B
eing
at home on this Friday night was not my original plan. I wanted to go to Hunger N Thirst with Jackie, drown my sorrows in a couple glasses of wine.

But the party pooper has to go home for the weekend, leaving me friendless. And lonely. So, I guess I’ll just need to eat this pint of Ben & Jerry’s by myself and sulk into a bottle of white wine.

I’m halfway through my pint and a One Tree Hill marathon when my cellphone rings, and I quickly hope it’s Jackie calling to say she’ll come over.

But I’m completely surprised when I see an unfamiliar number flash across the screen. My heart kicks up a notch, beating into my throat. I’ve been waiting two weeks to see a number, any number, that I don’t know flash across my screen. My hands start to shake as I set down the cardboard tub of Cookies & Cream goodness.

Sending up a small prayer that this will be him, I pick it up. “Hello?”

A small cough, and then, “Charlotte?”

Relief pours through my system, so sweet and sharp that I double over as tears spring to my eyes. “Tucker, thank God. Oh God, thank you for calling.”

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I never should have left. I just … Char, I’ve been going through some shit in my head. And I’m a fucking idiot.”

My heart might burst out of my chest with all of the emotions rushing through it right now. But mostly, I just want Tucker right now.

“Come home. We can talk this over, please, Tucker. I just want to see you.”

“That’s all I want right now, baby. I know I don’t deserve it, but actually, I was hoping maybe you’d come to me.”

* * *

I
t takes
me nearly two hours in the downpour that’s started, but around ten p.m. I finally pull my Jeep onto the familiar gravel drive.

The land is soft and squishy with mud under my tires, my windshield getting pelted by the late night summer storm. Lightning strikes against the mountains in the background, and despite all of nature’s beasts, I’m somewhat at peace to be back at Camp Marsh. Passing the wooden sign, it feels like I’m shedding my skin. And along with it, all my pressures and problems.

I swivel the Jeep out towards the counselor and guest cabins to the one Tucker told me he was staying in. I should have guessed that he came here; it seems to be his natural hiding spot apparently. But I’m glad he came to visit with William Marsh, who I’m sure screwed his head on straight. I would have to thank him for that in the morning.

The rain must have caused everyone to stay inside, because although I see lights on in the cabins, there is not a single soul roaming the camp grounds. Rolling through the misty, dark grounds, it looks so different than when I was here more than three years ago.

I spot Tucker’s pickup and pull up beside it, running out of my car and around to the other side to pull out my overnight bag. Who the hell knows what I threw into the duffel I’d packed it so fast. It was a miracle I had matching shoes on. Tucker had wanted me to wait to come until tomorrow morning, but no way was I being separated from him for another minute.

A door slams and I look up to the porch where Tucker now stands. The rain is pouring down on him, his T-shirt and jeans getting soaked. The lightning illuminates him and he looks like an Adonis, standing there looking down at me with this expression full of relief and love.

I’m rooted to the spot, uncaring that I’m getting soaked. “I found you.” I shrug with my bag in my hand.

“Not that hard to do when I wanted you to find me.” He yells out, the rain muffling his voice.

I’m not sure who moves first, but all of a sudden we’re sprinting towards each other. My bag drops, I’m kicking up mud and crying and reaching out for Tucker, who catches me in his arms as we meet in the middle between my car and his cabin door.

“I’m sorry,” he yells over the rain at the same time I tell him, “I love you.”

And then it’s nothing but his mouth on mine, erasing all of the grief and sadness I’ve gone through over the past few weeks. His kiss is an apology, a balm for the pain he put me through. We’re soaking wet, clinging to each other as he hikes me up and I wrap my legs around his waist. A clap of thunder booms overhead as Tucker turns us, our lips never leaving each other as he throws open the door to the cabin.

I cling to him as he brings us to the floor, where my back is greeted by a flimsy construction of mattresses. I break our kiss and grin goofily up at him.

“Our mattress and sleeping bag bed.”

He pushes the wet strands from my forehead. “I wanted to remind us how we were at the beginning. How in love and against the world we were. I’m ready to be that way with you forever. I was scared Char, but now I’m ready.”

He strips his shirt over his head and sends it flying behind us onto the floor with a thud. I mean to answer him, to tell him I love him and will follow him to the ends of the earth, but the words get stuck in my throat. There is six-foot-five-inches of gorgeous, soaking wet man and muscles before me, and all I want to do is get naked with my husband and make up with him the only way I know will make us both feel incredible.

We grab at each other, peeling off wet layers and kissing damp skin as we go. Everything is sticky, and each time I lay my lips on Tucker, or he on me, the nibbling or sucking is met with steam against our drenched skin. It’s heady and erotic, and making everything in the cabin hot and heavy. Each stroke of his tongue on my body is like a flame licking up my spine, turning me into a ball of burning need.

Every piece of clothing we peel from each other’s limbs is like another problem gone, another stress forgotten about. All of it forgotten when we’re finally naked, all of the outside pressure and expectation no longer exists. It’s just Tucker and I, body to body, baring our souls and our flesh to each other.

“I love you,” he groans as he slides into me, his eyes, a lust filled midnight black, never leaving mine.

I want to say it back, but my throat is so clogged with emotions that I’m sure I’ll start crying. There are already tears leaking out of my eyes, staining the mattresses beneath us.

Tucker’s big hands hold my face, and I circle his jaw just the same with my palms. Our lips caress and brush together with each slow pump of his hips, and I wrap my legs around his strong torso as he takes us both higher. So impossibly high.

We’re talking to each other with our eyes, communicating the love, desire and pleasure coursing through our bodies. There are no sounds but the pattering of the rain on the roof of the cabin and the claps of thunder. I make out his features in the moonlight, but every once in a while, a lightning bolt illuminates the entire room, and I get to see his full form as he commands my body.

Our releases come on shuddering breaths; the intensity of watching each other quietly unravel at the same time is too much. Our orgasms go on for what feels like forever, until I’m dizzy and seeing spots on the edge of my vision.

Afterwards, Tucker rolls us, his length still hard inside of me. Our arms wrap around each other, my leg thrown over his waist and my head in the brawny nook between his shoulder and his neck. He smells like sex and rain as he leans down to whisper in my ear.

“I have no idea what I did to deserve you, but I promise you … I will spend every day for the rest of my life thanking whoever or whatever led you to me.”

T
he storm washed away
the past. The water didn’t leave us completely renewed and able to forget; it cleansed and refreshed, taking all of our hurt and mistrust with it.

I wake with Char draped over me, the dewy sunlight streaming through the windows in blissful beams of light, as it only can do after a rocky night of thunder and showers. Last night was the final stage of our grief, the last straw was let go of and swept away under the bridge. My soul feels lighter, the pressure on my shoulders is gone. Where before there was a mental block, an obstacle that kept me from getting too close, from going all in … now there was clarity and the need to share everything with Char.

“Baby …” I kiss her lips and admire the rosy glow of her half-asleep face.

She tosses and groans. “Still sleeping … sex later.”

I chuckle, sliding my hands from her naked hips up, up, up to her bare breasts. I take one in each palm and stroke them, making her nipples bud tightly.

“Okay, fine, sex now.”

Char straddles me, her eyes still closed and her chestnut hair hanging in front of her face. I just wrap my arms around her smooth back and make no move to continue my exploration of her body.

“I just want to talk.” I kiss the top of her head where it rests on my chest.

“Talking boring. Sex fun.” Her gravely sleep voice is adorable and all I want to do is snuggle her for the next few hours. But we need to talk.

“I’m sorry that I left.”

Char blinks her eyes up at me, and I can tell that even through her early morning fog she is listening.

“Ever since I took the deal two and a half years ago, I’ve felt unworthy of you. Like I was dirtying your perfect façade. You are brilliant, this shining star who I was pulling down out of the sky by remaining with you.”

“Tucker, that’s not how you are at all. And I’m far from perfect.”

I squeeze her side. “Oh, I know that …”

She laughs quietly at my poking at her.

“I thought that for so long, that after a while, I started to believe it. And then at the party at Hunter Landon’s house, what that guy said to you, about you. It all came true, everything I feared. I was fucking up your life and my filthiness had finally infected you.”

Char sighs, cupping my chin in her small hand. “You make my life infinitely better. Nothing you did or could do has ever ruined me, or made my life worse. Sure, it hasn’t been easy being married to you. But for the life of me, I wouldn’t do anything over. We found each other exactly when we were supposed to.”

I flip her over, needing to look completely into her big brown eyes.

“You’re right. And I see it now. I had to go through all of that shit, endure the injury and the drugs and even prison. I used to lie awake at night, in whatever hellhole I was crashing in at the time, and wonder what the hell my purpose was in life. What path God could possibly have for me if it wasn’t football. And now I know. It was you. It was always you. It just took me a while to get back to you.”

She presses her lips to mine, a soft, sweet taste of passion. “I love you, Tucker Lynch.”

“I love you so much, Charlotte Lynch.”

* * *

T
urns
out I got my couple hours of snuggling, and two rounds of mind-blowing sex to boot. When Char and I finally go to get dressed, we almost piss our pants. In our haste last night, we left Charlotte’s duffel bag out in the mud and rain.

Most everything is soaked through, besides a few pairs of underwear, one bra, and two T-shirts. She pulls on her underwear and T-shirt while I go in search of some dry pants.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” She hoots out a laugh when I return with her outfit for the day.

“Hey, at least this pair fits. And at least I found you shorts.”

She pulls the shorts, clad with the Camp Marsh logo, up over her voluptuous hips. She looks hot in her camp gear, and I almost want to take her to the obstacle course and see if we can reenact our first kiss. I’ll have to surprise her with it later.

We walk hand-in-hand down to the quad, the late morning rush of campers heading for activities after breakfast swarming around us. Some of the kids scream hi to me, some ask me who my lady friend is.

“Oh, Charlotte! We are so happy you are here!” Melody halts us with her cheery tone in the quad.

She jogs up to us, looking not a day over forty-five even though she’s the same age as Willy. The only tell on her age are the snowy white curls that float around her face like a halo. Her blue eyes sparkle as she pulls Char away from me and into a tight hug.

“Hi, Melody. It’s nice to be here.” She smiles at me over Melody’s shoulder.

“All right, all right, let the girl breathe Melly.” Willy walks up and taps his wife on the shoulder before pulling my wife into an even bigger bear hug.

“Gosh, I’m going to have to come here more often. I’m really feeling the love.” She giggles.

Willy lets her go and slings his arm around Melody’s shoulder. “Yeah, I think everyone could hear the love you two were feeling this morning.”

Charlotte blushes as I cough awkwardly into my shoulder.

“Oh, Willy, let the kids be kids.” She hits his arm. “Charlotte, I have some arts and crafts going on over here. Why don’t you join me and we can catch up?”

Char looks at me, and I know she doesn’t want to leave my side. We’ve just gotten each other back, completely. But I know Willy wants to talk to me, to impart some more sage wisdom. And I have my whole life with Char ahead of me.

“Go ahead, baby. I’ll be over in a second.”

Melody puts her arm through Char’s and they scurry off towards a picnic table of little girls drawing and sprinkling glitter over everything.

“So I take it you worked everything out?” Willy claps a hand on my shoulder as we look at our women.

“We still have a few wrinkles to iron out, but everything is going to be okay. I have her, and that’s all that matters.”

I can see him smiling in my peripheral vision. “Damn right it is.”

One of the little girls at the table turns to Charlotte as she helps her pick out a color for her drawing. I overhear her say, “Are you a mommy?”

Char’s face blanches, and I see Melody look up at her. I never told the Marsh’s about our miscarriage, but now that I think about it, they would probably be the best people to tell. Char shakes her head and says, “Not yet, but I hope to be someday.”

The little girl turns back to her drawing. “I think you’ll be a really good mommy.”

Char’s eyes find mine, and I see she has tears welling in her chocolate orbs.

“Willy, why did you and Melody never have kids?”

He coughs. “We wanted them, oh, how we wanted them. But it wasn’t in the cards for us.”

The way he says it, I know it’s a sore spot. “Oh, jeez Willy, I’m sorry. That was intrusive.”

“Nonsense, son. I have no secrets, and neither does Melly. We tried for years, but we were never successful. It’s why we opened up this place. All of the campers who come to Camp Marsh are our children, at least for the summer. We get to hear their laughter and see them succeed at things. It fills our souls.”

I nod. “We lost a baby, you know.”

Willy turns to me. “Melly thought so. An instinct or something. Maybe a sixth sense, for another woman who has been through miscarriage. It’s terrible. But you’re young and healthy. I think you two will be able to make plenty of babies.”

I couldn’t tear my gaze away from Char, who was busy sprinkling glitter onto the little girl’s painting. “I hope so.”