A Husband She Couldn't Forget Page 10

  There was only Aly, close in his arms, holding him, surrounding him, making a glow all around them. Only Aly, showing him the world as it could be, full of sweet heat and boundless joy.

  She lifted up enough to take his mouth again. Kissing him, she pulled him down to her, even closer. The kiss went on and on as they moved together, hard and fast.

  He tried to hold out, to wait for her, but she urged him on, whispering hot promises against his lips. “Yes...” And “Always.” And “Only you, Conn. Only ever you...”

  He didn’t care if they weren’t really true, those things she whispered as they rocked together, joined in the way they hadn’t been for much too long. For right now, for this golden chain of moments in the gray light of a foggy morning, everything she said was real. The future was theirs and they would get it right this time.

  His climax took him over, the heat roaring down his spine. He tried to pull back a little, to slow it down, give her a chance to catch up and chase her own completion first.

  But she just pulled him closer. “Now,” she whispered, frantic, insistent, “Right now.”

  He gave himself up to it, let it roll through him, felt the sweet, hot magic of release as he pulsed within her, his whole body lost in her, given over, set free.

  And then she let out another cry and he realized she had made it, after all. She was going over, too.

  He held himself still within her as she claimed her own finish.

  “Oh, yes.” She bit his earlobe, buried her face under his chin. “Oh my, yes...”

  He collapsed on top of her with a groan. She laughed, pushing at his shoulder. He wrapped his arm around her and rolled so they were both on their sides, facing each other. She still held him inside her, her leg hitched over his hip, keeping him in place.

  They dozed for a while. He felt wrung out in the best sort of way. All the longing and tension, that edge of need and frustration? Gone. Leaving him easy and satisfied, completely relaxed for the first time in so long.

  When he pulled back enough to look at her gorgeous face, her eyes were shut. He brushed a kiss between her eyebrows. “You awake?”

  She pulled him closer, wrapping her leg a little tighter across his hip. “Shh...”

  He stroked her still-damp hair, kissed the tip of her nose, wished that this moment could go on indefinitely.

  At some point, he must have drifted off to sleep.

  When he opened his eyes again, it was almost nine. “Hey.” He tipped up her chin. Her eyes fluttered open. She smiled at him. He kissed her, a quick one. “I’m going to be late for work.”

  She made a reluctant little sound in her throat as she shifted away from him.

  About then, he remembered the condom. Glancing down, he saw that it was halfway off and leaking.

  She was watching him. “I guess we need to have the talk, hmm?”

  He guided a thick lock of hair behind the shell of her ear. “I’m really hoping that you’re on the pill.”

  “I am.” Her lips curved in a lazy smile. “And except for when we were married, I’ve never had sex without a condom.”

  “Good. I always use a condom, too. I’m sure we’re fine.” He took the condom off the rest of the way and left the bed to dispose of it.

  When he returned to her, she was sitting up, all rumpled and gorgeous, her skin like fresh cream against his white sheets. “Kiss me,” she commanded. “Just once. And then I’ll go and you can get dressed.”

  Bending close and framing her face between his hands, he pressed his lips to hers. She tasted so good, of all the best things he’d thought forever lost to him. He longed to take the day off, spend it with her. But he had a meeting in an hour that he really couldn’t get out of.

  When he straightened, she jumped from the bed, grabbed her dinky shorts and cropped shirt from where she’d dropped them in the doorway to the bathroom, and left him to rush around getting ready for work.

  * * *

  Aly got to her mom’s a little late, but Tony’s wife, Lisa, was there for a visit, so no harm done.

  Cat seemed fine that day. They hung out, Cat and Aly, giggling and yakking together like the BFFs they’d always been. Aly did laundry. She ran the vacuum, both upstairs and down.

  In the early afternoon, while Cat was napping, Aly PMed a couple friends in New York. They messaged her right back and she responded.

  As the messages flew back and forth, memories flooded her. Of how she’d met both women, of the girls’ nights out at a bar they liked in the West Village, of hitting the sales at Barneys and Bergdorf’s and Saks.

  She wrote that her mom was doing well and even told them about the accident—not the part where she ended up with holes in her memory, just that she’d totaled the car, sustained a few injuries and had pretty much recovered. It seemed easier to save all the gory details for the next time they got together.

  Later, she cooked dinner for her dad to reheat when he got home. She left the salad in the fridge and the main dish waiting on the stove, and went to check on her mom.

  “Get lost,” Cat said, when she entered the bedroom. “I know you’re eager to get back to that impossible man you married once.”

  Aly was a little worried. She knew him so well. Odds were that he would have second thoughts about this morning. She did want to be there before he got home, kind of get her ducks in a row for when he started laying down a thousand reasons why they needed to keep their hands off each other.

  “I don’t want to leave you alone in the house.”

  Tucker, his ears perked as he sat by the bed, gave a hopeful whine. Cat patted the mattress and the dog jumped up. He cuddled in close to her.

  “Oh, please.” Cat stroked a hand down his back. “You’re as bad as your dad and brothers. How many times do I have to say it? Everybody I’ve ever known, I’ve got on speed dial—not to mention my doctor, the hospital and 9-1-1.”

  Just then, they heard a car drive up out in front. Aly went to the window. “It’s Marco.”

  “Perfect timing.” Cat scratched Tuck around the ruff of his neck. “Go.”

  * * *

  Aly got back to Connor’s at a little after five.

  The good news was she didn’t have to cook dinner for the second time that day. She and Connor took turns handling the evening meal, and tonight was his night.

  All day, she’d been half expecting him to call or text with some lame excuse about working late, to suggest that she should just go ahead and eat with her folks. Then he could stew about what a terrible person he was, avoiding her until he worked up the nerve to tell her that this morning was a mistake.

  The man had way too much guilt. He needed to get over that.

  But when five o’clock came and went and he hadn’t reached out, she knew he would follow through and either cook for them or show up with takeout.

  She could almost get her hopes up that he wasn’t going to come in looking glum and serious, spouting regrets for what had happened, insisting that it couldn’t happen again.

  But no.

  He showed up at a little before six with burgers and the works from her favorite burger place, Raeleen’s Roadside Grill. Just looking at the grease-spotted take-out bags brought her happiness. But then her heart sank at the concerned expression on his face. He set the bags on the kitchen counter.

  And she made her move. Stepping in nice and close, she slid her arms around his hard waist. “Welcome home.”

  “Aly...” He took her shoulders in his big hands and gazed down at her regretfully.

  She granted him her sweetest smile. “Please don’t be a sanctimonious, self-sacrificing fool.”

  “Aly, it wasn’t a good idea what we—”

  “Stop.” She put a finger against his fine lips. “You’re over thirty.”

  “Aly, don’t—”

  “And I’m twenty-n
ine.”

  He huffed out a frustrated breath. “You’re not listening to me.”

  “Oh, yes I am, unfortunately. Because you’re making my ears hurt. It’s really so simple. We’re two grown adults, both of us single, both fully capable of making our own decisions.”

  “You’ve been injured. You’re not yourself.”

  “I’m not?” She tried a little humor. “Who am I, then?”

  His mouth was a grim line. “You could have died in that accident. What happened to you isn’t something we should be joking about.”

  “Good. Because I am deadly serious, Conn. This morning, you and me, together again at last... It was beautiful. I for one can’t wait to do it again. Are you trying to tell me you’re not interested?”

  “I, um...” He seemed not to know what to say next. “No. That is not what I’m saying.”

  “All right, then. What are you saying?”

  Actually, she was feeling a tad guilty now herself—but not about having fabulous sex with the man she loved.

  She should probably mention that the gaps in her memory had started filling in. And that she loved him still, that she’d never stopped.

  But she just wasn’t ready to share those things with him—or with anyone, really, except her therapist and maybe her mom. Yes, it was cowardly of her. But she couldn’t be the brave one all the time, now could she?

  He might send her packing if he decided she was almost “healed.” And as for telling him she’d never stopped loving him...

  He lived here. He loved Valentine Bay. The two of them had ended up divorced because he refused to leave. From what she’d recalled and pieced together so far, she had a great life in New York. And she just couldn’t start talking about trying again with him. Not yet. Not until she’d decided what compromises she would be willing to make so that they could be together.

  “Aly...” He still didn’t seem to know what to say next. And he looked so worried that they’d somehow done the wrong thing by climbing into bed together.

  She laughed; she couldn’t help it. “Lighten up. We have weeks and weeks left of sharing this house.” She stepped in an inch closer, brought her hands up between them and rested her palms against his heart. “Let’s make the most of the time we have. Please.”

  He made a low, gruff sound as his concerned expression morphed into something else altogether. Something desperate. Hungry. Now, his hands stroked her shoulders instead of gripping them. “God, Aly...”

  She ladled on the appropriate platitudes. “Life’s too short, Connor. Nothing is for certain.”

  He traced the side of her neck with the back of his index finger, stirring lovely shivers in his wake. “I’m trying so hard to do the right thing here.” His eyes had gone more gray than blue.

  “Pushing me away is not the right thing. Whatever happens later, I want to know you now. We can yammer on and on about getting closure, making peace. But what I want most of all is to have this time with you, really with you. I want to blow the doors off, open up all the possibilities between us, however it all turns out, for as long as it lasts. We were happy once, you and me.”

  He looked stricken suddenly. “Yeah, we were. So damn happy.”

  “We can be happy together again, right here. Right now.”

  He eased his hands under the heavy fall of her hair and laced his fingers at her nape. With his thumbs, he tipped her chin higher. His gaze burned her, seared her to the core. “I just—If you have second thoughts, you need to tell me.”

  “I don’t, Connor. Not a one.”

  He gazed down at her, his breathing a little ragged, just like hers. She waited—for him to break, to stop playing noble, to take what she longed to give him.

  And then, at last, he yanked her close and slammed his mouth down on hers.

  She surged up on tiptoe and kissed him right back, letting out a little cry of surprise when he scooped her high in his arms and headed for the stairs.

  In his room, he carried her straight to the bed. “Everything off. Make it fast.”

  They stripped, eyes locked together, clothes flying every which way. She kicked off a sandal so hard, it bounced straight up and almost hit her in the forehead, but she ducked to the side just in time. The sandal flew by, ending up somewhere on the floor on the far side of the bed.

  When he finally came down to her, she grabbed him close. “I’m so glad,” she whispered, fervent now, truly grateful.

  “You don’t know. I went back and forth all day. I felt so guilty one minute and so damn good the next...”

  “I do know, Conn.” She stroked his hair back off his forehead. “I know how you are.” And dear God, I do love you. I’ve always loved you...

  She almost said it out loud.

  But then he kissed her.

  They got lost in the magic of right now.

  * * *

  The burgers and fries were cold by the time they sat at the counter to wolf them down. Neither of them cared. They devoured the food.

  They were standing in the living area, alternately kissing and discussing whether to stream a movie or just head back up to bed, when Connor spotted Maurice asleep on the rug at the end of the sofa.

  “How did he get in?” she asked.

  “How does he ever get in?”

  His phone rang right then. It was the lady next door, asking if Connor had seen her cat.

  Connor promised to bring the cat right over. He ran back upstairs to add flip-flops and a T-shirt to the khaki shorts he’d pulled on when they got out of bed. Then he scooped up Maurice and took him home.

  When he returned, Aly greeted him just inside the door wearing nothing but a smile. They skipped the movie and went back to bed.

  It was long after midnight before they turned out the light, wrapped their arms around each other and drifted off to sleep.

  * * *

  Connor woke to his phone ringing. He grabbed it off the nightstand and put it to his ear before he realized that it was Aly’s cell ringing on the other nightstand.

  She groaned and poked an elbow at him. “You gonna answer that?”

  He leaned close and kissed her soft cheek. “It’s yours.”

  “Huh?” She grabbed the device, dragged herself to a sitting position and put it to her ear. “Marco? What?”

  Connor could hear her brother talking at the other end of the line.

  “When?” she asked. “Is she okay?” Aly listened and then nodded. “Yeah. I got it. I’m on my way.” She dropped the phone onto the bed and raked her hair back with both hands. “It’s my mom. Her blood pressure’s up. She’s had back pain and some bleeding. My dad took her to Memorial.” She shoved back the covers and swung her feet to the floor. “I have to go.”

  He got out on the other side. “I’ll drive you.”

  She kept walking. “You don’t have to.”

  “Wait.” Catching her arm, he turned her to face him. “You’re not going off to the hospital in the middle of the night all alone. I’m driving you.”

  She blinked up at him, eyes desolate, mouth trembling. “Connor, I have to go.”

  “I know. I’ll meet you downstairs.”

  He was dressed in seconds flat and downstairs waiting for her when she came rushing down from the upper floor. “Here.” He handed her the giant purse she’d left on the bench in the nook by the front door.

  “Thanks.” She hooked the bag over her shoulder and finished buttoning up her shirt. “Let’s go.”

  Chapter Eight

  All four Santangelo sons were waiting in the obstetrics lounge area when Connor and Aly arrived.

  “There you are,” said Dante.

  She went straight for him. Connor hung back as they shared a quick hug.

  When they broke apart, Dante started pacing. The other three brothers sat looking bleary-eyed and appre
hensive. No one said anything to Connor.

  Aly seemed not to know what to do. She just stood there between the two rows of chairs. Finally, she asked, “Dad’s with her?”

  “Yeah,” said Dante. Pacing as he spoke, he explained that the doctor thought Cat had suffered something called a partial placental abruption. “The placenta comes partly unattached from the uterus,” he said. “It started around midnight. She woke up with abdominal and back pain and some contractions. And she had bleeding, all symptoms of this abruption thing.”

  Tony said, “They’re running tests, including an ultrasound, to see how bad it is and find out if they need to do a C-section.”

  “It’s too early,” said Marco.

  Pascal elaborated, “He means that Mom’s not quite thirty weeks along yet, so if they have to do a C-section the baby will be what her doctor called ‘very preterm.’”

  Aly’s eyes got even wider. “So you’re saying it’s really bad?”

  “Could be,” Dante muttered darkly.

  Aly seemed unsteady on her feet. She put a hand to her mouth.

  Connor stepped up and wrapped an arm around her. “Come on.” He walked her to the nearest chair. She sank into it. He sat beside her.

  “Oh, Connor...” She groped for his hand. He clasped hers and wove their fingers together. She took it further, pulling their joined hands into her lap and wrapping her other hand around them, like he was her anchor and she needed to hold on for dear life.

  He just wished there was something he could actually do in a situation like this. “It’s okay,” he whispered, because what else could he say? “It will be okay.”

  The Santangelo men were deadly silent. Connor glanced up to see tight disapproval on every face.

  Apparently, Aly wasn’t as out of it as she appeared. She noticed her brothers’ reaction, as well. “Don’t you even start. Not one word,” she commanded, her voice carefully controlled, her gaze pinning each of them in turn. “Are we clear?”

  Tony, Pascal and Marco had the sense not to say anything.