“About what?”
“Kara.”
She nods definitively. “Good.”
“Even without knowing what was said?” I’m not even the slightest bit insulted because tempers were high, and I was so wrong.
“It’s Kara.” As if that says it all.
I kiss the crown of her head. “In any event, you’re right.”
Maris becomes quiet. I resume stroking her hair, her skin, just absorbing her. But her words freeze my movements. “So many nights after Jed died, I felt lost, alone, drifting. And cold, Nick. So, so, cold.”
Instinctively, I pull Maris’s body closer to mine to warm it. But her next words come out jaggedly—a whispered confession. It’s the kind of confession that makes my own blood freeze, making me want to throw her ass on a plane tonight, consequences be damned.
“For a long time I questioned whether if it would be easier to succumb to the elements thrown at me year after year—the air, land, sea—just to escape the pain.”
“What are you trying to tell me, Maris?” The words are torn from me.
“That I’m here because I choose to be, Nick. I may have had to deal with restless nights, lost dreams, and broken hearts, but this is where I’ll reap the rewards of my life. Here is where I’ll sow the seeds of love, family, and future.”
And as she closes her eyes to sleep, I lie awake, realizing in my arrogance I didn’t factor something critical into my plans to whisk Maris away.
Her acceptance.
As I drift off to sleep, I begin to dream. And for the first time in years, it’s not of a Smith. It’s my mother. And she’s driving away from me at the store. Over and over again.
“It wasn’t that bad.”
“No, you only woke up four or five times. It was such a joy.”
“I’m sorry about that.” My embarrassment makes me irritated. “Would you like me to sleep in a different room?”
Maris stares down at me incredulously before stalking off to her en suite bathroom and slamming the door. I hear the snick of the lock and then curse roundly. “Great job, you fucking idiot.”
While Maris is in the bathroom, I grab my cell phone and check it. Just like I asked, there’s a text from Oliver. Got Reece and his gran all settled. Nice digs Charmaine found. Did you up her budget? Ha ha.
I type back. Different budget than yours. Now get to the gym and get him working. You should have his training plan in your email.
Then I glance at the clock and calculate backward. Shit. Never mind. You’re already there. Let me know how it goes with Tatum.
I toss my phone to the side as Maris steps out. She’s damp from having hopped in the shower but is quickly braiding her hair. “Where are you going?”
“I have work to do. You?” Her voice is saccharine sweet.
“I was planning on taking the day off.”
“Well, I’ll be in my office for a few hours.”
“Come on, Maris. It was just a few bad dreams.”
“I decided you were right. It’s your business.”
Sensing a trap, I tread carefully. “Okay.”
“In fact, nothing you do makes no never mind to me, Nick.”
What. The. Hell? “How can you say that?” I bellow.
“We haven’t exchanged avowals of eternal devotion. You don’t share, well, I don’t have to either.”
I sputter. “So what? It’s just sex?”
She gets close to pat my arm consolingly. “Great sex. Fabulous sex. I’ve just had a couple of the best orgasms I’ve ever had. But more?” She shakes her head, the braid flipping and flopping instead of her hair rippling all the way down her back in loose curls.
“What utter crap. We have more than that. Look at everything you’ve shared with me.”
Her head turns, and fuck me, I want nothing more than to wipe the manipulative curve off her lips by slamming my tongue down her damn throat. But her words pin me in my place faster than any fighter ever managed to. “That’s right, Nick. I’ve been the one who shared.”
Damn. “You know it all anyway,” I clip out.
Hurt infuses her features, and her face blanks. “I might know Jed’s view, but I don’t know yours. And much like you read the emails about what happened about my accident and managed to pry out my emotions… You know what? Just forget about it.”
Maris starts yanking clothes from her dresser. I leap up on the bed and cross it in two strides before jumping down. “You don’t need those.” I wrap my arms around her.
“If you think for a hot second I’m crawling in between the sheets with you right now, you’ve been hit in the head way too many times.” Fury and hurt lace her voice.
I place a soft kiss against the exposed skin of her shoulder. “There’s no way in fuck you’re getting into the ring wearing jeans. Or boots.” I take a wild-ass guess based on the socks she yanked out to wear.
“Who said I’m getting into the ring with you, Champ?”
“Because I’ll answer one question for every punch you actually manage to land.” She squirms around, breasts pressing up against my abdomen, making my cock harden.
“Why can’t I kick?” she demands.
My lips twitch. “I’m wearing a cup. You’ll take a cheap shot.”
Her smile lightens the room and my heart. “Maybe I’ll break it?”
I laugh. “You can try, Sunshine.”
“Nick.” Maris lifts her hand to cup my bristled chin. “Are you sure?”
No. I want to discuss my past about as much as I want to let go of the woman in my arms. But still I reply, “We’ll see how many rounds you can handle.”
Her breath wafts over mine as her fingers dance beyond my cock to cup my balls. “I can handle more than you think.”
Maris is good, damn good. She packs a wallop behind her punches I wasn’t expecting. When she lands a roundhouse kick to the back of my knee, I drop to the mat, breathing hard more from the excitement of our sparring than anything else. Her hand whirls out, nails sheathed, the heel aiming for my heart. “Do you really think you can take me?” I pant.
“No. But the object isn’t to take you down as much as it’s to end this once and for all. I’m sick of wasting what’s left of my life on something I’ll never truly have.”
Just as her hand is about to make contact, her body sags into itself. “I’m not going to apologize to you for being strong enough to tell you I love you. That I care about who you are and what happened to you. I’m only sorry that in the end, if you can’t open up who you were to me, it will irrevocably change who we are. Somehow, you managed to make me stronger than yesterday. Why won’t you let me help you take some of those ugly memories and make them all right? Do you want to carry these burdens forever?” She turns away, but not before the overhead light catches the film of tears coating her dark blue eyes. “If you can’t tell me, find someone to talk with, Nick, because bottling all of this up inside? It will eventually hurt more than just us. It will penetrate every aspect of your life. Trust me, I know. Jed tried to get me to speak with a professional for years, but at least I had him and Kara.”