Authors: JM Stewart
The details of the file replayed through his mind again. He could recite them in his sleep he’d read them so often over the past three years. His stomach roiled, acid rising up the back of his throat. How could he look into her beautiful eyes and tell her something so awful? In one fell swoop, he’d hand her all her hopes and dreams of finding her past, then he’d have to pull the rug out from under her and shatter them.
According to the department psychologist he’d spoken with a while back, telling her something like this could unlock a hidden door in her mind, unleashing the demons within. At the very least, it would be painful for her, even possibly manifest itself in physical symptoms. Ceci already suffered from nightmares and anxiety attacks. At the worst, forcing her to relive something her subconscious had locked could shatter her mind.
“Sometimes they flash back to the trauma they experienced as a terrified child and never come out.”
“Actually”—gut knotted, Kyle turned back to the fridge—“I was searching for meat. Sausage, ground beef. There any of that in all these vegetables?”
“What’re you making?” Her warmth radiated against his side. Her soft, flowery scent drifted to him. Hell, maybe it was embedded in his skin. Wherever it came from, he longed to draw her close. His chest ached with the knowledge that he couldn’t, that the reality was, he might never hold her so intimately again.
Which was why he currently searched her cabinets. He couldn’t force himself to leave the house, to leave her. He needed this connection to her, now especially. He had to admit, though, that he hoped it would soften the wound developing between them. He hoped if they did something normal, something they’d done a thousand times before, it would bring them back together again. It was an irrational hope. There was more to this situation than just his own desires, but right then, he needed this small part of her.
“The only edible thing I could find in your kitchen.” He forced a grin as he peered over at her. “Spaghetti. I need meat to put in it.”
“Here.” She reached into the fridge and pulled out a package.
“Thanks.” As he took the package from her, her soft, slender fingers brushed his, sending a wave of longing through him. Their gazes met, and, for a single, endless moment, they connected. The silent communication told him everything he needed to know. In her wide, vulnerable eyes, the trust she put in him shined back at him. She’d always depended on him to keep her safe. He couldn’t let her down now.
He inched around her and moved to the stove.
“Ground turkey?” He pulled the plastic wrap off and dumped the meat into the skillet. It was a vain attempt to cover his thoughts.
How could he do that to her? How could he look in her eye and traumatize her like that? It wasn’t about promises broken or kept anymore. He didn’t know if he could hurt her like that. Oh, he’d done it a thousand times on the job. Telling someone their family member was dead was a horrible thing to have to do, but it was part of the job description. People deserved to know, to have closure, but to have to tell something like that to
her
, knowing what it could do to her or the baby she carried? A baby whose very life depended on whether or not her mother stayed healthy?
Doesn’t Ceci deserve to have closure as well? And if she’s determined to find the answers, wouldn’t you rather she learn it from you?
A voice of reason resounded in his mind, like so much guilt, but the answer wasn’t an easy one. Yes, he’d rather she learn it from him, but he didn’t know if he had the strength to do that to her, to unleash those demons for her. He’d sooner spend the rest of his life without her than ever hurt her that way. Setting those memories free would put too much stress on her. That wouldn’t be good for her or the baby.
Ceci rubbed a hand over her still-flat stomach, smiling softly at him. “It’s healthier. I’m eating for two now.”
He echoed her smile, but his heart hung heavy. “Yeah. I guess you are.”
The sight tugged at his heartstrings, at the possessive side of him that wanted to claim both her and the baby as his, and standing there, staring at the woman he loved, the decision made itself. By an odd twist of fate, he’d been given a chance he’d only dreamed about. How could he give it up? He’d made the decision to keep the truth from her based on more than his own emotions. He’d done it for her. Now, he had her baby’s welfare to worry about as well.
If she ever remembered, he’d deal with it then. Maybe what he needed was to talk to the psychologist again. Ceci’s nightmares were getting worse, and he needed to know what that meant and what to expect.
***
Cecelia sat at the table in the center of the kitchen a half hour later, idly shifting her food around her plate. Kyle sat caddy-corner to her, gaze on his plate, shoveling in bites of salad as if it were any other day. Except it wasn’t. Tension had mounted between them, and she couldn’t get her mind to shut off.
It wasn’t every day you realized you’d fallen in love with your best friend. She hadn’t meant to admit that to him, except he’d said the words first, and the impact of them had vibrated through her. Those words from his mouth had lodged inside of her as so very . . .
right
. She yearned, for the tiniest moment, to fall into them, to fall into him, but the thought of taking that step forward terrified her. More so even than her nightmares.
Because it meant she was one step closer to losing him. The desire and passion would eventually wear out. She’d learned that the hard way. And when it did, she’d lose her best friend. Could she take that risk?
Kyle finally glanced up from his plate, and his eagle eye zeroed in on her, a concerned crease forming between his brows. “Talk to me, Ceci. You can still do that, you know.”
Cecelia stared across the table. An ache filled her chest. Somewhere in there, a glimmer of her best friend stared back at her. She wanted so much to tell him everything, the way she used to once upon a time. Except she had no idea how to tell him how she felt. Wasn’t even sure she understood it or if she ought to voice it. How could she let this play out between them knowing there was a chance she could lose him, lose the wonderful connection she’d found with his family? The thought of losing them all made her want to sob. Her heart went out to Becca and Jackson. Torn up, divided. The thought of doing that to her and Kyle had her chest aching so much she half expected it to split open wide.
And if she told him all of that, it would only hurt him.
He set down his fork, that intense gaze boring into her. “Honesty, remember?”
She sighed and looked up. He was right. He deserved the truth. She’d made him promise to always be honest with her, back when he’d started college. Didn’t he deserve the same from her now? “I don’t know how to describe what I’m feeling. I’m mixed up and confused, and I’m terrified, and I’ve already hurt you enough. I’m afraid if I tell you how I feel it’ll only hurt you.”
“And I’d rather you talk to me than shut me out.” He folded his hands in front of him, wrists braced on the edge of the table, and leveled his gaze on her. “Tell me something. What do you
want
? Gut reaction. Don’t think, Ceci.
Feel
. What do you want?”
“You.” God help her, but she couldn’t deny it. She
wanted
it all. The friendship, the love. She just didn’t know if she wanted to risk losing him. She’d meant what she said—she’d rather have him as just a friend than not at all. A world without him in it wasn’t something she wanted to ponder. Yet here they were, because she’d allowed herself to get caught up in the wonder and newness of attraction. That the object of her attraction was him made it all the more alluring.
“I’m right here. Nothing’s changed.” He held out his hands, palms up, as if it were the simplest answer in the world. “I’m still that guy you’ve known since you were seven.”
“That’s just it.” The need to move, to get out from under his intense scrutiny, too strong to ignore any longer, she rose, shoving the chair back with her knees. She took her plate with her, scraping it into the trash before carrying it to the sink and setting it in the porcelain basin. “We can’t go back from this. We can’t pretend it didn’t happen or that it doesn’t change anything between us. It does. It changes our entire relationship. I can’t even look at you the same way anymore, and it terrifies me.”
His chair scraped the floor, telling her he’d followed her. Her heart thundered in her ears, the muscles in her shoulders knotting as she waited. Moments later, his scent filled her nostrils, his heat radiating against her back, but he didn’t touch her, and she didn’t know if that was good or bad. All the action did was demonstrate how wide the chasm between them really was.
“This isn’t easy for me, either.” His quiet voice dripped with frustration. “It’s killing me, if you want the truth. I just want to hold you, and the fact that you won’t let me feels wrong, especially right now. But you’re so skittish, I’m afraid if I do, you’ll run from me. I’m
trying
to give you space here.”
He shifted, leaning back against the counter beside her. The raw, aching emotion in his eyes matched the torment raging within her. Despite the need for distance, she forced herself to hold his gaze. Something deep inside told her he needed it as much as she did.
“I realize we’ve crossed a major line. The significance of what we’ve done isn’t lost on me.” He reached out a finger and lightly stroked her forearm.
“It doesn’t scare you?” She drew her brows together and shook her head, once again unsure how to make him understand. “Aren’t you—”
“Afraid of losing you? Of losing what we have?” He pulled his fingers back and gave a miserable shake of his head. “More than I can tell you. But something incredible happened between us, and I can’t pretend it didn’t. The same way I can’t pretend it didn’t mean something to me. I won’t lie to you and tell you I can go back to the way things were, because I can’t. I’ve wanted you for a long time now, and the truth is, I don’t want to go back to having to watch you with someone else.”
“Me either.” If he could be honest, she had to be as well.
“Then what do you want?”
An ache seized her chest. She knew what she had to do, but her heart rebelled against the idea. How could she hurt him this way when he was brave enough to be honest and cared enough to know she needed space?
“Time.” Her voice trembled with emotions she could no longer hold back, fear and regret seizing her chest. “I just need some time.”
When he closed his eyes and nodded, hot tears welled in her eyes and rose to the surface along with the shame. Setting aside her unease for the moment, she reached out and laid her hand on his arm. “I don’t mean to hurt you, Kyle. I truly don’t, but I’m so confused. I need time to think, and I can’t do that with you here. It just makes it harder, because you’re right. Not falling asleep in your arms after making love feels wrong, and I don’t know what to do with that. Because I can’t shake the fear. I’ll admit it. I got caught up in you, in us, in this, but I can’t tell you right now that this is something I want. Because I’m too afraid of losing you. And the only way I’m going to make this decision is on my own.”
“I understand. I won’t pretend I like it, but I understand.” He drew a deep breath and released it, then finally opened his eyes and pushed away from the counter. “Thank you for being honest with me.”
He pressed a gentle kiss to her cheek and then turned and exited the kitchen, his stride long but casual. She turned and stared at the arched entrance as the quiet house filled with the sounds of him leaving. His feet padding across the hardwood floor, the distinctive creaks and groans of the boards that told her precisely where he was. She followed his progress as he made his way upstairs, down the hall, and into her bedroom.
Deafening silence settled over the house again, telling her he most likely finished dressing. Then the telltale creaks and groans came again, faster this time. When the last step gave its protest, she squeezed her eyes shut, unable to bear watching.
“For the record, I meant what I said.” Kyle’s voice came soft but intense from the kitchen doorway. “I’ll wait you out for as long as I have to. We can take this as slow as you need, but we’ve found something incredible, and I can’t pretend it didn’t happen. I won’t give you up without a fight.”
His words forced her eyes open. The fierce determination in the depths of his eyes stole the breath from her lungs.
“One way or another, Cecelia, you will be mine.” He pivoted, disappearing from view, his footsteps fading down the short hallway. Moments later, the front door closed, the soft click resounding through the house.
“I’ll call if I find anything. Otherwise, I’ll talk to you next week.” Chase’s voice flowed across the line with a positive note that did nothing for the disappointment settling in Cecelia’s stomach.
Seated at the kitchen table, she released a quiet, defeated breath and set her chin in her hand. “Thanks, Chase. I appreciate the update. I’m beginning to wonder if I’ll ever find them. It’s like I don’t even exist.”
A week had passed since Kyle had left her standing alone in her kitchen. She’d spent that time attempting to go through the last of her grandmother’s belongings. Chase had called ten minutes ago to give her an update on his findings. He was a welcome distraction to a task she didn’t look forward to.
Unfortunately, Chase hadn’t found anything on her parents. Not a single crumb. No adoption records, no birth certificates, nothing. Even a tiny detail was better than nothing, than the resulting emptiness that followed her everywhere.
“Hang in there, kiddo. I have a few leads I want to try. When I find something, I’ll let you know, and if it’s out there, I
will
find it.” Something rustled over the line, and Chase murmured something too low for her to hear. Lila’s soft, melodic voice sounded in the background. “Hey, Lila wants to know if you’re coming to dinner on Sunday.”
Cecelia rose to her feet, the old chair scraping the worn wooden floor, and crossed the kitchen to the sink, peering out over the backyard. “Of course. Tell her I’ll bring dessert again.”
“Got it. See you Sunday, sweetheart.”
“’Bye, Chase. Give Lila my love.”
“Will do.”
She hit the
END
button with her thumb, tucked the phone into her pocket and then left the kitchen, moving to the stairs, where she’d been heading when the phone rang. A lump of dread sat like a lead weight in her stomach. She had to put away the rest of her grandmother’s belongings. A task she kept putting off because it meant eventually going up into the attic.
Though, she had to admit, the task kept her from thinking about Kyle. His staking his claim on her heart ought to scare the bejesus out of her, but it didn’t. The determination in his voice had sent a heady shiver down her spine. No man she dated had ever told her she was his. No man ever made her feel it, either. She
was
his, and she knew it. Some part of her she was afraid to acknowledge wondered if she always had been.
Exactly why she’d asked for space. The truth was, she had no idea what to do. Gran had drilled into her, over and over—don’t trust anybody. She drilled it into Cecelia until it became second nature. It had taken Gran three years to learn to accept Georgia Morgan, and it had taken Cecelia every bit as long to learn to trust Kyle. But over the years, he and his family had become her family, so much a part of their lives she might as well have been born in it.
And now she and Kyle had crossed the line, which left her feeling like she dangled precariously over the ledge of some tall cliff. She was one step from losing them all.
Determined not to think about any of it, at least for the time being, she’d made the decision to go up into the attic. Four times now she’d tried, but every time she pulled the ladder down from the ceiling, her hands shook and breathing became near impossible. Something deep inside rebelled against going up there.
All because her mind kept flashing on the nightmare she’d had two nights before. This time she actually heard the voice, deep and masculine, fierce and authoritative. The same one shouting the demands.
The man’s voice sounded through her head again, as surely as if he stood right behind her.
“Check the house; she’s here somewhere.”
She paused and gripped the banister to root herself in reality. No matter how many times she told herself it was only a dream, the images kept coming back. So real she woke up to the smell of old pennies. To make matters worse, something deep inside understood the
she
the man searched for was her. How could that be? They were only dreams. Horrible and frightening but merely a product of her imagination.
Weren’t they?
In an instant, her mind took the thought a step further and brought up the odd sensation she had in her grandmother’s bedroom. Apprehension crawled up her spine, like icy fingers on warm skin. What if the nightmares weren’t dreams? What if something that awful had actually happened to
her
?
Her heart clenched. She drew her brows together and stormed down the hallway. No. She would’ve remembered something like that. Someone would’ve told her.
Gran
would’ve told her. Yet doubts remained, nagging at her. People forgot memories all the time. Tragic incidents too painful to remember that their mind tucked away somewhere safe.
Which had her wondering . . . could Kyle be right? Maybe her past
was
something she’d wish she’d never discovered. Maybe all she needed to do was acknowledge the possibility.
As she twisted the doorknob to her grandmother’s bedroom, she paused and leaned her forehead against the cool wood. It was times like this she missed Kyle the most, missed the simplicity of his presence in her life. She’d give anything to have him here right now. She could really use a big dose of his sanity. Every morning this week he’d called her, like he used to. Thankfully, he hadn’t pushed her to decide on their relationship. He hadn’t come over, either, and their conversations were awkward at best. They’d gone back to feeling like strangers, and she hated it. She missed him. God, how she missed him.
Except, she still hadn’t come to any conclusions and was still as confused as ever. Their entire relationship was on the line, and she hadn’t a clue what to do about it. Her heart wanted her to cave, but she was terrified of losing him. If she lost him, she’d have nobody. She’d be alone. At least right now, they had
something
. They talked, and he was a part of her life. If they took their relationship further and it went sour, like the rest, she’d lose him entirely. Could she take that risk?
She didn’t know. She was going on the, albeit very stubborn, hope that they’d eventually move beyond this awkwardness and get back to what they had. Wouldn’t they?
The doorbell sounded, jerking her from her reverie. Heaving a sigh, she turned and moved back downstairs. A few feet from the front door, she stopped to draw in a deep, fortifying breath. Her heart looped into a dull pitter-patter. She couldn’t deny she
wanted
it to be Kyle. It was Saturday, dinner and a movie night, but they didn’t have plans to spend it together.
Pulling open the door, however, she found Becca and Allie on the porch. They huddled beneath the small awning, rain running off it forming a small waterfall around them.
“We came to play.” Allie tipped her head back and smiled, the naked baby doll she carried with her everywhere clutched in her right arm.
Those big blue eyes had the knot in her stomach releasing. She couldn’t help smiling in return. Becca and Allie were exactly what she needed today. They’d provide the perfect distraction from her tangled thoughts.
“I’m very glad.” She turned to Becca and stepped back to usher them in. “Come on in. Get out of the rain.”
“Sorry I didn’t call first. We were on our way back from the grocery store. Little Miss here insists on peanut butter for lunch and we’re out. I thought we’d stop by on our way home.” As she followed Allie into the house, Becca shot Cecelia a devilish grin. “I wanted to come see my newest sister-in-law.”
In the span of a rapid heartbeat, Becca’s words sent her mind spinning back to the luau a few weeks ago. Everyone still assumed she carried Kyle’s baby. The thought left an uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach. She’d taken the easy way out. She should’ve had the courage to tell them the truth.
She swallowed past the nervous lump in her throat.
“I hate to tell you this”—she prayed Becca didn’t notice the way her voice trembled—“but I’m not your sister-in-law.”
“If I know my brother, you will be soon.” Becca winked and headed for the kitchen.
Cecelia somehow managed to close her mouth, but her mind whirled with torturous images. All too easily she could imagine being married to Kyle. To be there beside him when he went to sleep, his face the first thing she saw every morning. An urge to see him hold the baby grabbed her, and warmth bloomed in her chest.
Her limbs trembled. How had they gotten here, where suddenly his family assumed they’d marry someday? More to the point, how had her feelings changed so much that the idea, while unnerving, didn’t feel so wrong anymore? She’d never envisioned herself married to anyone before. She’d never dared, had never wanted to. She’d grown up believing Gran was right—people couldn’t be trusted—and marriage never seemed in the works for her. With Kyle, the images came all too easily.
In that moment, the emotions she’d kept to herself rushed to the surface, leaving her edgy and trembling, and she couldn’t resist the temptation to unload them. Becca was her age. They’d gone to school together, had been in more than a few classes together over the years. She’d become a good friend, and right then, Cecelia needed someone to talk to or she’d go insane.
She expelled a pent-up breath, her shoulders slumping. “Oh God, Becca, I have to tell somebody or I’ll explode.”
Becca’s eyes widened with excitement, and she clapped her hands like an excited child. “Ooooh, spill.”
She squeezed her eyes shut and let the words fly. “The baby’s not Kyle’s.”
Several moments of silence played out between them. Cecelia tentatively opened first one eye, then the other. Becca stared at her, her brows up in her hairline. Finally, her brows fell, a serious expression coming over her that Cecelia had seen before. The caregiver in action. In that moment, Becca looked a lot like her mother.
Becca looped her arm through Cecelia’s. “Tea. What you need is some tea, then you tell me everything.” She looked over at Cecelia and winked. “And don’t you dare leave anything out.”
Fifteen minutes and two cups of tea later, the two of them sat at the table in the center of the kitchen. Hands clutched around her mug of raspberry tea, she’d done exactly that—told Becca every scintillating detail. Jimmy’s rejection of the baby, Kyle’s offer, all of it. While it was an immense relief to release all the confusion trapped inside of her, telling Becca also proved a nerve-racking experience. For every fact she’d spilled, Becca’s blond brows raised a little higher, the delighted gleam in her blue eyes glowing brighter. Seated across from her, hands curled around her cup of tea, Becca now grinned like she’d discovered the fountain of youth.
“Becca, say something.” She let out a nervous laugh and lifted her mug to her lips. The hot liquid warmed her belly but did little to calm her jagged nerves.
Becca shook her head, her joy-filled grin filling with a touch of apologetic remorse. “Sorry. I know we tease you two. We’ve been hoping you’ll get together for years, but none of us could ever be sure it would actually happen. I have to tell you, I think it’s fantastic, but I’m not sure I’d be any less conflicted. God knows I’m the last person to give you advice on relationships.” She leaned forward, resting a hand over the top of Cecelia’s. “I think you’re looking at this wrong. Instead of seeing only the bad stuff, you should try to see the good that could come out of it.”
Cecelia arched a brow. “Such as?”
“I think you two are perfect together. If half the married couples in this world had the closeness and honesty you and my brother have, there’d be a whole lot less divorce.” Becca looked down at the table and gave a sad shake of her head. “I was always envious of the two of you. Jackson and I never had that. Not really. But you know, I think the answer to your problem is that you’re naturally reclusive. Sometimes, sweetie, you just have to take a chance. Close your eyes, hold your breath, and jump in with both feet, hoping for the best.”
“Is that what you did?”
“With Jackson? Oh yeah. He and I came from completely different backgrounds. He grew up in a mansion, surrounded by more money than I’ll ever see in five lifetimes. And I grew up in a rundown farmhouse with a mother who had to work sometimes three jobs just to make ends meet. I think that, technically, we lived at poverty level much of the time.” Becca rolled her eyes and paused to take a sip from her mug. “How the two of us ever fit together is beyond me. He’s night and I’m day.”
Cecelia squeezed Becca’s fingers. Becca had had a hard time with the separation and eventual divorce, and the pain written on her face said she hadn’t moved beyond it yet. “So, why’d you do it then?”
Becca shrugged, her sad smile matching the dejection in her eyes. “Because I was hopelessly in love with him.” She lifted her head and pinned Cecelia with a determined gaze that spoke volumes. “At the time, I thought he was worth the risk.”
Cecelia couldn’t help her grin. “You still love him.”
Becca’s cheeks turned a bright pink. She ran an index finger around the rim of her mug. “Yeah, I do. Signing the divorce papers was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. Harder even than when I left him. I think I’ll always love Jackson. He was my first love, and he’s Allie’s father. He’s a good father, too, which makes it harder. She still doesn’t understand why we can’t go home. But I don’t think Jackson loves
me
. At least not the way I want him to.”
She looked up then, piercing Cecelia with a gaze so familiar she almost laughed. The same unerring determination always creased Kyle’s brow when he was adamant about something.
“Which is why you should think seriously about jumping into this.” She shook her head, her expression sobering. “Honey, if there’s anybody more worth taking a chance on, it’s him. At least, for you. The two of you are like peas in a pod.”
The doorbell sounded, sending the sick cow mooing through the house.
Becca’s head shot up, her expression immediately changing. Devilment lit the depths of her eyes, and she flashed that wide grin again and waggled her brows. “I bet I know who that is.”
There was only person Cecelia ever spent Saturday night with, and Becca knew it.