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Authors: Mari Madison

Just This Night (23 page)

BOOK: Just This Night
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thirty-seven

MAC

A
t least you'll die happy.

God, I didn't doubt that for one second, what with the way she was going down on me now. The insides of her mouth were steaming hot, burning me with exquisite fire. My whole body was pulsating, begging me to take it over the abyss, succumb to the pleasure, go all the way. And yet at the same time, I knew that wouldn't be enough. I wanted to be inside of her. Now.

Somehow I struggled to sit up, taking her face in my hands and bringing my lips once again to hers. Kissing her thoroughly, one hand secured at the small of her back, while the other searched the nightstand for a condom. Once I had one in my grasp, I pulled away from her for just a moment, tearing open the packet with my teeth. I could feel her watching, excited, anxious, pleased. Which made me feel all those things as well. Unlike Victoria, who saw sex as a chore, a way to appease me and get me off her back, Beth clearly wanted this. She wanted me. And the impatience glowing in her eyes made me want to both laugh and cry
with joy. This was how it should be. Two people, barely able to keep their hands off of one another, coming together in shared ecstasy.

Now properly sheathed, I pushed her back onto the pillow, knowing she wouldn't mind if I wasn't gentle this time. Then I grabbed her hips with both hands, securing her as I lowered myself on top of her, all the while keeping my eyes on her face. She bit her lower lip, and for a moment I worried that I had hurt her. But then her mouth curved into a happy, unguarded smile. I smiled back at her, everything inside of me melting at the way she looked at me. As if she trusted me with her very life.

A trust I wanted to treasure and guard forever.

And so I kissed her, for a moment, content with just that. To cover her face with light, sweet kisses, rejoicing in the feel of my cock, resting inside of her. As if we were two halves of the same person, reunited at last.

Then her hips shifted, just slightly, but enough to deepen the connection between us. And, suddenly, I found myself unable to keep still a moment longer. I thrust against her, gently at first, then, harder, faster, moved by the encouragement I saw in her eyes. She arched her back, her curves melting into me as she matched my rhythm with her own thrusts. All the while looking up at me with those wide, beautiful, chocolate eyes.

Victoria had never looked at me during sex. She'd always close her eyes or turn her head. As if she wanted to pretend it wasn't happening—or at least that I was someone else. I always suspected her mind was elsewhere as well, grudgingly allowing me to get the sex out of my system, while she worked on scripts in her head.

But with Beth, it was different. Beth was here, in the moment, completely present and active in what we were sharing. She was looking at me and I was looking at her and we were together as the waves of heat rushed over us, sweeping us over the edge. Her insides clenched as she orgasmed again and I bit my lip not to scream as I released hard inside
of her. As I collapsed on top of her, breathing hard and heavy in her ear, I could feel her lips pressing against my neck, softly kissing me over and over again. The tenderness—juxtaposed with the ecstasy—almost did me in.

At least you'll die happy.

Uh, yeah. Mission definitely accomplished.

I forced myself to roll over onto the bed again, not wanting to crush her with my weight. As I slid out from her, I felt a slight brush of panic as we once again became two. But, I reminded myself, she wasn't going anywhere. She was still right here, right next to me. Just to be sure, I pulled her to me, cradling her in my arms and letting her rest her head in the nook of my shoulder. Then I held her there, securely against me, not wanting, at the moment, to ever let her go.

“God, you're wonderful,” I said, a long sigh escaping me as I came slowly back to earth.

I could feel her infectious grin against my chest. “You're not so bad yourself,” she teased, her fingers lazily tracing my abs, starting up the chills all over again.

But before she could distract me into going for round two, I gently pulled her hand away, kissing it softly before pulling her up to sit beside me. For a moment, she looked concerned, so I gave her a reassuring smile, meeting her eyes with my own. God, she looked so beautiful at that moment. So flushed and sweaty and sated. To know I had made her look that way—well, I almost died happy all over again.

“I'm not talking about the sex,” I corrected her, using my most earnest voice. “I mean, not that the sex wasn't excellent, because, God knows it was. But Elizabeth, that's only the beginning of you—and what you mean to me.”

Her eyelashes swept over her eyes for a moment, as if my words made her shy. But I took her chin in my hands and forced her gaze back to mine. “I'm serious,” I told her. “I've tried everything I could to push you away. To tell myself that this is not something I should want—that it will only lead to heartbreak and disaster. I told myself it was better to stay alone, that it would be selfish to put my own needs in front of my daughter's. But then,” I added, shaking my head. “I look at
you with her—how happy you make her when you're around. And then I realize I've only been using her as an excuse.”

“What do you mean?”

I drew in a breath. “I put everything into my relationship with Victoria. I gave up everything that I cared about to try to make her happy. I put all my energy into making the marriage work and I was left with nothing but a big, gaping hole for my troubles.”

Beth gave me a look that nearly broke my heart. “Oh, Mac . . .”

But I waved her off. I had to finish. “I loved her. And when you love someone, you leave yourself open to getting fucked over by them. And when that happens, you are left with nothing. Emotionally bankrupt.” I cleared my throat, feeling the all-too-familiar lump rise inside. “I tried to tell myself that keeping you at arm's length was to protect Ashley. But truly, it was to protect myself. I didn't want to fall again and fall alone.” I groaned, raking a hand through my hair. “God, even saying that aloud makes me sound like a pussy.”

“Actually,” she said, “it makes you sound really brave.”

I grimaced. “Look, Beth. I don't have a lot to offer you. I've got no money. I'm strapped down with a kid. And emotionally, well, I'm damaged goods, baby, and don't even know how to do a proper relationship anymore.” I sighed. “Half of me wants to tell you to get up and run. Far away and never look back. The other half . . .” I closed my eyes. “The other half wants to take you in my arms right now and never, ever fucking let you go.”

Her lips parted. I could tell she wanted to speak, but also wanted me to continue. She knew it was hard for me to say the words out loud. But she knew how badly I needed to say them anyway.

Because she knew me that well.

“I can't promise you anything. I can't promise you the happily ever after you deserve. I can't promise that I won't hurt you with my stupidity or that this won't all go up in flames. But I can promise you one thing.” I looked up at her. “I will always love you with all of my heart.”

My voice broke and I found I couldn't continue. It was too much, too soon, and I couldn't tell if I felt relieved for putting it out in the open or more scared than ever. What would she say? What would she do? She had every right to walk away—hell, it would be the smart thing to do. But at the same time, as I held my breath, waiting for her to speak, I prayed she wouldn't be that smart.

And that was when she kissed me. Taking my face in her hands and pressing her lips against mine. Impossibly soft, impossibly tender, and so rich with what tasted like love, it stole my breath away.

“I love you, Jake MacDonald. And I'm ready to take a chance with you.”

It was all I needed to hear. I took her in my arms. We made love again, the first time hot and heated, the second, slow and lingering. I took my time, wanting to worship every inch of her body, to kiss every millimeter of her skin, the tiny gasps that escaped her lips sound-tracking the night, sweeter than any music.

“What did I do to deserve you?” I asked as we finished. As she curled her body into my still trembling frame, I nestled my face in her hair, breathing in her warm, rich scent, never wanting to breathe anything else for the rest of my life.

“You didn't do anything,” she assured me, sounding sated and sleepy. “You were just . . . you. And that's all you ever have to be.”

She fell asleep, spooned against me, my arms wrapped securely around her waist, my face nestled at her neck. It was heaven on earth and I didn't want to move a muscle.

I'd love to say I passed out quickly, into a dreamless slumber, but in truth I was up most of the night watching her. The gentle rise and fall of her breasts as she breathed in and out. The sweep of lashes over her rosy cheeks. The way her little toes scrunched up when she was dreaming and the smile that slipped across her face. I found myself hoping she was dreaming of me.

Finally, slumber took hold and I passed out, still curled
around her body. And when the morning light streamed through the window, my daughter, for once in her life, slept in. As if somehow she knew Daddy needed a few extra minutes of paradise this morning.

Before hell showed up at our front door.

thirty-eight

BETH

D
ing-dong!

I groaned at the cruel sound of reality crashing into our fantasy world. All night we'd been together, cradled in this perfect bubble, safe and sound and alone, the outside world be damned. I'd known at some point we'd have to crawl out of bed, get Ashley ready for school, get us ready for work. But I had been hoping to delay the inevitable for as long as possible. Maybe squeeze in one more lovemaking session before facing the world again. (Yes, Mac made me that insatiable!)

“I don't suppose you could ignore that?” I said, only half-joking.

Mac groaned. “You don't know how much I would like to,” he replied, giving me a kiss on the forehead before sliding out of bed and grabbing his jeans off the floor. I watched as he pulled them on, one leg after another. “But it could be important.”

“Right.” I sighed. “Mind if I wait in bed?”

“As if I would allow anything else,” he teased. “Seriously, just give me five minutes to get rid of whoever it is and then I'll be back. And you'd better be naked when I am.”

“I think that can be arranged,” I said with a giggle, pulling the covers up to my chin. Mac returned to the bed, yanking them back down so he could kiss each of my breasts in turn, then grinned at me wickedly before heading to the door. I watched him go, my entire body tingling all over again at the promise of what was to come.

God, last night had been good. Like, best-night-ever good. In fact, now, in the light of morning, it was almost hard to believe it had really happened as it had. That we'd really talked, shared, made love—quite a few times actually.

But more importantly, we'd made promises.

From here on out, there would be no more need to keep distance between us. No more fighting our feelings, no more denying what we felt. We could be together—in every sense of the word. We could be a real, legit couple that did all those nauseating things real legit couples did. Like . . . updating our Facebook relationship statuses and going out to brunch or whatever.

Best of all, I could finally show Mac that love doesn't have to tear you apart. In fact, true love had the power to put you back together.

My mind flashed back to the day Ryan had first called. When he'd first confessed he'd been sleeping with my sister. At the time I had felt as if the bottom had dropped out of my world. And who could blame me? I'd pinned everything I had on that relationship—on this assumed security of a fiancé/boyfriend, a guaranteed happily ever after. But in the end, had I truly loved Ryan for who he was? We'd been so young when we'd first gotten together and had changed so much over the years.

Sure, I loved the idea of having a boyfriend. But Ryan in particular? I wasn't so sure anymore. We'd been so different. We hadn't shared the same values or the same goals. We hadn't wanted the same things. He wasn't interested in supporting who I was. But to be honest, had I been any more supportive to him? After all, I'd been the one to ask him to leave everything he knew and loved behind, to follow me and my dreams. Never once considering that perhaps he had his
own to pursue. If he had come out here, he would have been miserable. And that would have made me miserable, too.

Maybe it wasn't so bad that he'd found something with my sister. Not that the way they went about it had been right. Obviously, they should have been honest from the start. But if they had truly connected, truly bonded to one another, felt the way I felt with Mac—well, how could I blame them for that? How could I begrudge them their own happily ever after?

Especially seeing how it had inadvertently led to my own.

I forced my thoughts back to the present, straining to listen beyond the door. I could barely make out muffled voices and frowned as I realized Mac's sounded a little distressed. Worried, I searched for my clothes, then realized they were still in the wash and I only had Mac's shirt. Not sure what else to do, I slipped it on, then headed for the door.

“Is everything okay . . . ?” I started to ask, peeking my head through. But I trailed off as my eyes fell upon a woman standing in the doorway. She was pretty, petite, with stick-straight chestnut-colored hair, large almond eyes, and cheekbones that cut Angelia Jolie-esque lines across her face. She was thin, too, possibly too thin, and dressed sharply in a tailored black pantsuit that looked as if it cost more than my yearly salary. I looked down at Mac's rumpled flannel shirt and wondered if I should have stayed in bed.

Mac glanced back at me. The expression on his face chilled me to the bone. “Sorry, Beth,” he said. “This will just take a minute.”

He started to turn back to the woman, but her gaze stayed locked on me. Her eyes were cutting, cruel, suspicious.

“Perhaps I should have called first,” she observed with a raised eyebrow. “I guess I didn't realize you would have . . . guests. Especially with our
daughter
sleeping in the next room.”

Oh God. I almost fell over backward. It couldn't be . . .

But it couldn't be anyone else either.

Well, this was a bit awkward.

It's okay. They're not together anymore. You have every right to be here. You did nothing wrong.

Summoning all my bravado, I forced myself to cross the room and hold out my hand, determined to take the high road here. She was still Ashley's mother, I reminded myself. Meaning she still deserved my respect.

“It's nice to meet you. I'm Elizabeth. I work with Mac at News 9.”

“I'm Victoria,” the woman confirmed in a cold voice. She looked down at my hand and frowned, as if I'd offered her a snake. “His
wife
.”

Ouch.

My face flushed. Dropping my hand, I retreated a few steps, feeling the humiliation burn through me as she raked her gaze over my scanty attire. If looks could kill I was pretty sure I'd be on the floor. Seriously, what had made me think coming out here, dressed in Mac's shirt, would be a good idea?

I glanced at the door, wondering if I should run, but my feet felt glued to the floor. I looked over at Mac, silently begging him to say something—anything—to diffuse this powder keg—to make it all okay. To defend my right to be here. To say I was his girlfriend—not some dirty one-night stand.

But he just stood there, a deer caught in headlights, glancing from one of us to the other, his face stark white and his hands shaking. I wanted to be furious at him for not defending me. Yet at the same time, my heart wrenched at the pain and confusion I saw in his eyes. And who could blame him? He thought she was gone forever. And now here she was, showing up completely out of the blue, acting as if she'd never left.

“Look, I'm going to get going,” I declared, desperate to regain some kind of semblance of control. No good could come of me sticking around. “You guys obviously have a lot to talk about. So I'm going to just grab my stuff and get out of your hair.”

“Good idea,” Victoria said icily. As if I had been asking her permission. “After all, we wouldn't want my poor daughter to wake up and . . . get confused.”

I glared at her; was she for real? Seriously at that moment it was all I could do not to cross the room and punch her in
the throat. How dare she try to make me feel like the bad guy here? She, who had abandoned her daughter for the last six months, without so much as a good-bye. She was the last person on earth who should be talking about confusing poor little Ashley.

But I kept my mouth shut and my feet glued to the floor, my hands remaining at my side. Mostly because, deep down, I wasn't sure she was entirely wrong. After all, I had no rights here. No claim on Ashley's life. No matter what was going on between Mac and me, to Ashley I was just the girl who was having “playdates” with her daddy while her mommy was away. And yes, if the little girl woke up and came out here now, I was pretty sure she would indeed be confused as hell.

I retreated to the laundry room, my stomach roiling with nausea. Hot tears stung my eyes as I pulled my clothes from the dryer. After gathering them up, I headed back to the spare bedroom to change. To my surprise, when I got there, Mac was waiting. He shut the door and turned to me.

“You don't have to go,” he told me.

I gave him a rueful look. “You know that I do.”

He sighed, raking a hand through his hair. “God, I'm sorry, Beth. I never expected . . . I mean, I promise you—I haven't heard from her in months. I thought she was halfway across the world.”

“I know,” I assured him. “Maybe she missed Ashley.”

“Maybe . . .” He scowled. “But the last thing I want is for Ashley to see her here. After all I've done to try to get her to accept the fact that her mother's gone. Now it's going to start up all over again—her thinking that she's here to stay.”

Something in my heart froze. “What if she
is
here to stay?”

He shuddered. “Don't even say that.” He paced the room like a caged tiger, his steps eating up the distance between walls. “God, I can't believe she just showed up here like this. Without a call or anything. She has no right. Hell, she should be the one to leave, not you.”

I gave him a regretful look, then shook my head. I knew
he was this close to falling apart and I didn't want to make things worse for him. “No,” I said gently. “She needs to stay. And you both need to talk. I know you're angry with her, but she's still the mother of your child and she always will be. You really want to put Ashley first? Then you need to make peace with her.”

He nodded, still looking upset. “I know, I know,” he said. “You're right of course. It's just . . .” He looked over at me, giving me a sad smile. “This was so not the way I wanted our perfect night to end.”

“We'll have other nights. Countless nights,” I assured him, my heart feeling as if it was breaking in my chest. “I can even come over tonight after work if you want. We can drink gallons of fake Anejo Banjo and make a voodoo doll with her face on it.”

He laughed, looking down at me with such affection in his eyes. “What did I do to deserve you?” he asked, shaking his head. Then he sighed. “Okay. I'll find you at work later. And I'll fill you in on everything, I promise.”

“It's a deal.”

And with that, I walked out of the bedroom, summoning up all my courage to stroll past Victoria and out the door, my shoulders back and my head held high, without once glancing in her direction. I could feel her staring at me, but she said nothing as I stepped through the door, closing it behind me.

Once outside my bravado fled. My shoulders drooped and the tears sprung back to my eyes. Even more so when I realized I didn't have a car to drive home in—Mac and Ashley had picked me up to go sledding yesterday and then we'd come straight here afterwards. Meaning I had no way to get home.

I glanced back at the house, then decided better of it, reached into my bag and grabbed my cell phone instead. I could call a cab and have them take me home to grab my car before work. No big deal.

But it was a big deal and as I slumped down onto the curb, waiting for the cab, a thousand doubts began to pick at my
brain. Like, why was she here? What did she want? Was she only here for a quick visit? Or did she have plans to stay? Did she just want to see her daughter? Or did she have designs on her ex as well?

His wife,
she'd said. As if she still retained some kind of ownership over him.

But that's not her call,
I tried to remind myself. She could want whatever it was she wanted, but it wouldn't change a thing. There was no way Mac would agree to get back together with her. Not after she'd cheated on him, caused him to lose his job. Broken his heart and abandoned his daughter. He hated her more than anyone on earth.

At least that's what he told you.

I squirmed in my seat, not liking the direction my thoughts were heading. But how could I deny the possibility? After all, hate came from love and if Mac still cared about her at all, would he take her back if she asked him to? She was his wife, after all. And the mother of his child. Mac had sworn he'd put Ashley first, no matter what the scenario. What if he believed that Victoria being back was in the child's best interests? Would he be willing to sacrifice his own chance at love and happiness to give his baby girl her mother back? To give their little family one more try?

As the cab pulled up and I climbed inside, the heaviness in my stomach grew like a slow wave encroaching on a beach, washing away all the happy flotsam and jetsam last night had produced. What if Mac forgave her? What if he let her move back into his house, his life, his bed? Where would that leave me?

I forced myself to choke down my rising grief. I couldn't be selfish about this. If Mac did decide to get back with Victoria for Ashley's sake, I would have to find some way to accept that. If it was truly for the best—for him, for Ashley—I couldn't stand in their way. I loved them both too much; I wanted them to have their happily ever after—even if it meant none for me.

But how would I ever face him after something like that? How could I possibly work with him, side by side, each and
every day? How could I possibly suffer through this kind of throbbing, ridiculous, all-encompassing love I had for him—if that love was no longer returned?

Okay, Beth, you're getting ridiculous now,
I scolded myself.
You don't even know if she wants to stay. She might just be swinging by between assignments, to see her daughter before going on to the next.

The cab pulled up to the front of my apartment building. Opening the door, I stepped out into the beautiful, crisp California morning. But before I could enter the building, my cell phone rang—making me nearly jump out of my skin.

He was calling! Thank God. I fumbled in my purse to find the phone, my heart pounding in my chest.

BOOK: Just This Night
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