Over the Fence (41 page)

I scrubbed my face with my hand, feeling weary. “Grant asked me the same thing. I didn’t want to see the way you looked at me change.” I frowned. “I didn’t want to see you look at me the way you are now. Like I’m a complete stranger.”

Kourtney didn’t say anything—she simply stared at me. Remembering Grant’s advice, I decided I needed to leave her alone and process what I’d told her.

I pushed off the wall where I’d been leaning, picking up my keys from the table. “I made a huge error in judgment that night and I killed my little brother, and lost my family. It’s something I have to live with every day, for the rest of my life. It seems I made another huge error not being honest with you. I’m sorry about that—more than I can say. I hope you can forgive me. I hope you’ll think it over and let me try to make it up to you. That maybe, you could trust me again.”

I waved at the laptop and messenger bag still lying on the table, too tired to care about them at the moment. “I’ll get those later. I’ll go back next door and wait to hear from you. If I don’t, I’ll understand. I’ll hate it, but I’ll understand and I’ll forever be grateful to have had you in my life while I did. You showed me there are good people left in the world.” I hesitated and looked directly into her eyes. “But I pray you can forgive me. I already lost so much—I’m not sure I can survive losing you, too.”

Turning around, I had only made it a few steps when Kourtney spoke up. “Why do you say it that way?”

I frowned in confusion. “Say what?’

“You always call your place next door, or over there, never home, or even my house. Why?”

“That’s not my home, Kourtney. It’s only the place I was living while I was waiting for you to find me. You’re home to me.”

Her eyes filled with tears, her lips trembling. “I don’t want you to leave.”

I froze, my entire body beginning to shake. Did she mean what I thought she meant?

She held out her hand. “I want to know everything. I want you to stay.”

I crossed the room in seconds, dragging her into my arms. She held me tight as I buried my head into her neck, breathing her in, letting the tears I held inside for so long, soak into her skin as I gasped out my apologies.

She led me to the sofa and I fell onto it, taking her with me, unable to bear the thought of losing the connection with her.

Her softness surrounded me, her tender voice in my ear, as she comforted me, allowing the relief of her forgiveness to wash over me.

I drew back. “Kourtney, I know you have questions, and I will answer them all, but right now, I need you. I need to be close to you.”

She stood up, tugging on my hand.

Relief flooded through me as I followed her. She knew the truth and she was still with me.

She was still mine.

We didn’t make it halfway down the hall, when I had her pushed up against the wall, my desperate need to feel her overwhelming everything else. I captured her face in my hands, kissing her deeply, groaning at the sensations she stirred. My body held her captive as my tongue delved and swirled, caressing her possessively, my desire overtaking all my other senses. I clung to her hard; lost and still frantic at the thought of losing her. It was the realization of how tense she was and the fact her hands were ineffectually pushing at my chest that alerted me I was holding her too tight, kissing her too rough. I pulled backed, dropping my head to her shoulder, ashamed at how I was acting. “Kourtney, I’m sorry,” I pleaded, holding myself stiffly away from her.

Her arms reached out, wrapping around me, drawing me back to her body. “I’ve got you, my love,” she murmured in my ear. “I’m not going anywhere. Relax and let me take care of you this time.”

Nodding, I allowed her to lead me into the bathroom, watching in silence as she filled the tub. She kneeled in front of me, cupping my cheek, her thumb drawing gentle circles on my skin as she gazed up at me. I rested my hand over hers, and turning my head, I kissed the palm of her hand in contrition.

“You want me to have a bath, Kourtney?” I stared into her beautiful, forgiving eyes.

She shook her head. “No, I want
us
to have a bath. You need to calm down and I think you need me to hold you right now.”

I tightened my hold on her hand. “I need you to hold me forever.”

She sighed and stood up. “I’m right here, Nathan.”

“Good. I need—”

“Tell me what you need,” she encouraged.

“You. I need you.”

“You have me.”

“Let me see you, Kourtney. Please.”

She bit her lip, still nervous and shy when it came to me seeing her naked. Slowly, she disrobed and stood in front of me, her full body as exposed and vulnerable as her wide-eyed gaze. Reaching out, I pulled her to me, burying my face into the gentle swell of her stomach. I kissed her scars with feather light pecks, trailing my lips over her marks and imperfections that bothered her so much and yet to me were nothing. Just as mine were nothing to her, except scars from a past we had both survived. I looked up at her as she gazed down on me.

“I love you. All of you. Be with me, right now.” I pleaded. “I
need
you, Chefgirl.”

She blinked, and a tear trickled down her cheek, then she nodded and moved to the tub. I stood up and discarded my clothes, following her into the warm water. I sank down, my back pressed to her softness, my head nestled under her chin, as her arms held me tight. The warm water, the gentle glow of the candles she had burning and her calming touch relaxed me—and I slipped deeper into her embrace. She nuzzled gentle kisses on my temple, murmuring soothing words of comfort and love. When my body shook violently with sobs, her arms tightened and she offered me the safety of her body to finally grieve aloud for the family and the life I had lost.

When the emotion had passed, we climbed out of the tub, Kourtney insisting on helping me dry off. We nestled under the covers, our bodies melded together, skin to skin. My lips found her sweet mouth and our tongues fluttered with soft touches. I worshipped her curves lovingly, her tender ministrations having eased my earlier desperation. She returned my caresses and kisses with a quiet passion of her own, pulling me into her heat with a breathy moan, rocking with me as I thrust in long, slow strokes. Our eyes locked as I felt her orgasm ripple through her and she stilled, shuddering around me, breathing my name.

“
Nathan.”

I buried my face in her neck as I spilled into her, unable to speak, only to feel, as the waves crashed over me, leaving me heavy and spent.

I rolled over, keeping her close, still needing to feel her unspoken solace.

“Stay with me,” I pleaded into her skin.

Her arms tightened. “I have you, my love.”

Surrounded by her love, I slept.

As usual when upset, nightmares plagued me all night. Every time I woke up, shaking and crying out, Kourtney was there. It was her tender voice, whispering words of love and comfort in my ear, and her gentle caresses that would lull me back in to sleep. When I finally opened my eyes to the muted light, peeking through the curtains, it was her concerned, sincere gaze that met my weary eyes. As I blinked, tightening my already firm grasp on her torso, relief seeped through me that she was still there with me.

“Hey,” she whispered as she stroked my cheek.

“Kourtney.” I leaned up, and captured her lips with mine, pulling her down to me as I kissed her, putting all the emotions and words I couldn’t express into the warmth of her mouth. Languidly, I stroked her tongue, as I held her close, unable to let her go. I released her mouth, and burrowed my head into her neck, breathing her in. “I’m sorry.”

Her arms tightened. “I know.”

“I should have told you sooner.”

Her low sigh ruffled my hair as she exhaled. “I know that. But I understand why you didn’t.”

“There is so much we need to talk about. So much more I have to tell you.”

“We have all day, all weekend, more, if you need it. I’ll listen.”

I looked at her, searching her face. “You’ve forgiven me?” My voice was barely a whisper and my throat tight, worried she might have changed her mind during the night.

“Yes.”

The one small word exploded in my head, my entire body relaxing. She drew me back down to her chest and I melted into her embrace, drifting quietly as she held me in her arms.

I glanced over at the clock, pulling myself up as I saw the time. “
Shit
. I’m late.”

Kourtney shook her head. “I texted Shannon and told her you were ill and not coming in today.”

“You texted Shannon?”

She waved my iPhone in front of me. “I figured it out all by myself. Shannon says she hopes you feel better. I assured her I would look after you.” Then she frowned. “Annie, on the other hand, said something about you working voodoo magic on me since I’ve never taken a sick day before. I’m not sure what she meant.”

I kissed her lovingly, returning to her warmth. “Look how far you’ve come. Tackling an iPhone all by yourself.” I chuckled. “As for your friend—Annie, she makes me laugh.”

“She’s a good friend.”

I nodded. “She is.”

I let the quietness of the room calm me before I spoke again.

“We should get up and talk.”

“Okay.” She rolled out of bed and held out her hand “Let’s talk.”

“Will you ever try and find them again?”

I shook my head sadly. “I’ve thought about it, but no.”

Kourtney’s eyes were unhappy as she regarded me. We had gotten up and spent the late morning talking; she asked many questions about my family and my time in prison. I found it to be an emotional release to be able to talk about them—to share memories of happier times; although I was more guarded in my replies about my time in prison. There were too many things I wasn’t ready to share about that dark time—painful memories and twisted emotions I wasn’t sure how to explain it to her—yet. She was interested to find out how I’d finished my high school degree, then took computer courses while in jail. I told her about living with Grant and Claire; about going back to school to study computer science; and how Grant had helped me land the job I still worked at today.

Kourtney had gently directed the conversation, encouraging my ramblings and stories. She laughed with me over some of the antics I told her about getting into with Sophie and Trevor. She’d clasped my hands when the memories would get too vivid and held me when the emotions got too strong for me to contain.

“Have you accepted that?”

I wasn’t sure how to respond. “I don’t know. I’ve been . . . drifting, Kourtney. I go to work, I have a couple of people over occasionally to watch a game, I work on some projects for a few clients, but I haven’t been living. I just—”

“Existed.”

“Yes. And I didn’t even realize it until you came into my life.” I turned to her, clasping her hands tight in mine. “You’ve made all the difference to me, Kourtney. I can’t do this without you.” I implored. “I’m not sure I want to do this without you.”

“You don’t have to.”

I studied her open, loving expression and cupped her face. “I love you, Kourtney. You mean everything to me.”

Her beautiful eyes widened, tears welling in the corner and slipping down her cheeks.