Danny looks up and stands, and I join him. “The baby’s okay,” she says with little emotion. Not relief or happiness, not anything. “Doc’s monitoring the heartbeat for a while for peace of mind.”
“What?” Danny runs past Beau into the bedroom, while I stand, a statue, searching for the calm this news should bring. It’s nowhere to be found, and it’s not likely to be. While this is the best news for Danny and Rose, and while I know Beau will be happy for them, as I am, I also know this whole situation will set her back again. Bring back memories. Hurt. Heartache.
Losing our baby.
“Okay?” I ask like a total dick.
“She’ll need a few days bedrest,” Beau says stoically, emotionless. “She needs to calm the hell down, but she’ll be all right. The baby will be all right.”
“I wasn’t talking about Rose.”
She blinks, frowning, looking like she’s silently asking herself how to respond. “Sure.” She forces a smile and passes me. “I’m going to take the beach path home.”
I breathe in, my mouth loading and preparing to fire a refusal, but I hold my tongue and let her leave. It’s tough and it fucking hurts, but throwing my weight around is not the answer. My own agony right now comes second to Beau’s. Let her be.
Except, I can’t.
I can’t stay away at the best of times. So now, when I know her heart will be aching?
I go to the bedroom and tap lightly on the door, waiting for an okay before popping my head around the wood. Danny is on the bed with Rose, stroking her head as she snoozes, and Doc is adjusting the straps around her tummy.
“Talk tomorrow?” I ask, because there is so fucking much to discuss. Even more now. Our plan to return to Miami in the morning might have to go on ice. At least, for Danny. I, however, must start solving the problem.
Laying a tender kiss on Rose’s forehead, he breaks away and gets off the bed, constantly looking back as he makes his way to me. I move, giving him space to step out of the room, pulling the door closed quietly behind him. He casts an eye around the villa.
Looking for Beau.
“Where is she?” he asks.
“Walking home.”
His eyes dart to mine, worried. “Fuck,” he breathes. “Mate, I’m sorry.” His eyes close, his wince harsh. “I . . .”
“I can’t shield her from the unexpected.” It pains me, but nothing would have prepared us for this. Truly, I don’t think anything will begin to heal this particular trauma for us. Her period is due. We don’t even know if she can conceive anymore. A bullet in a woman’s abdomen is bound to affect her fertility. Right? “I need to go,” I say, backing away. “I’m glad Rose and the baby are okay.” I turn and leave, pulling the door closed behind me and taking a moment to gather myself. Pull myself together. Calm my building anger.
I fail.
“Fuck.” I swing around and bury my fist into the door, and pain radiates through my hand. I rest my forehead on the wood, squeezing my eyes closed. Why the fuck does peace keep eluding us? Giving us a taste and then leaving us hungry for more? Running away, hiding, pretending to not exist feels more appealing than ever before.
It's wishful thinking, I know that.
I push myself away from the door just before it swings open. I don’t look at Danny. I don’t need to see the concern on his face. Nor the guilt. “I’ll call you in the morning.” I pace away, praying calm finds me before I find Beau.
I kick my shoes off, toss them in her Jeep as I pass, and take the trail to the beach. The black water sparkles under the moonlight, and I scan the shoreline for her. I don’t see any shadows, detect any movement. I make another scan of the length of beach from here to our beach hut. Nothing. I start to trudge through the sand, pulling my phone out as I go and dialing her, my eyes constantly casting back and forth up and down the beach. Her phone goes to voicemail. “Don’t make me worry more, Beau,” I warn quietly, trying her again. Voicemail. Again. I hang up on a curse as I reach the water, and the calm rush of the lapping waves does nothing to ease me. I turn on the spot, searching every bit of the beach, my heart starting to beat faster. “God damn you, woman,” I whisper, heading in the direction of our place, the water splashing my feet in calm, foamy rushes. “B—” My eyes land on a pile of clothes on the sand before darting out to the ocean. I exhale when I see the silhouette of a body immersed to the waist in the water. “Beau,” I breathe, knowing she won’t hear me. I would know her shape anywhere. The specific shade of blonde of her hair, even in the restricted light. Her bun has come loose, leaving endless strands of hair splaying her naked back.
My light.
Ever shrouded in darkness.
And as ever, I am drawn to her.
I remove my jeans and boxers, pull off my T-shirt and drop them with my phone to the sand next to Beau’s clothes before walking into the sea, making sure she hears me coming. She doesn’t look back, doesn’t check it’s me. She knows. My front meets her back, and I wrap my forearms around her upper body, pulling her back and sinking my face into her hair. I feel her soften against me, her cold skin warming against mine, her hands coming up and wrapping around my forearms, holding on.
“What if it never happens for us again?” she asks the water as my eyes squeeze shut and my heart squeezes in pain. So lost.
“It will happen.” I set my lips on her shoulder and kiss her salty skin.
“Do you want it to happen?”
“Of course I do.” But I’m worried. Worried about her body’s strength. Her mental strength. The journey. “I know I’m a hard man to be with, Beau.”
“You’re actually very easy to be with.” She shifts, and I loosen my hold, allowing her to turn and face me. I look down at her breasts, my hand lifting of its own volition and stroking softly over the cold, solid nipple, before I exhale and tug her into my body, helping her get her legs around my waist, her arms around my neck. I put my mouth on hers as I sink us under the water to our necks, feeling her tense and squeeze me tighter.
“It will happen,” I say, pushing my tongue into her mouth and swirling slowly, relishing the sound of her sighing happily. Savoring the feeling of calm settling within her. Accepting what I need to do. What I have to give her. My hand slides up her back and encases her nape, securing her to me. “It will happen.” Because life surely can’t be any crueler. Her mouth becomes firmer on mine, her boobs compressed into my chest, her spine lengthening to bring her closer, forcing me to drop my head back to accommodate her.
“I want you now.” She locks her arm around my neck, rolls her hips into me, her passion becoming frenzied. Desperate.
“Beau,” I say quietly, trying to bring her down a few levels as blood flows into my dick. She doesn’t hear or doesn’t listen, her purpose getting the better of her. Not to try and get pregnant, but to relocate her serenity. “Beau, baby.” I turn my face, and her head drops into the crook of my neck, her hot breath burning my skin. “Easy,” I whisper.
I feel her nod, feel her acceptance, as I lift her and reach between us to position myself at her entrance, ignoring the ache of my hand. She slowly sinks onto me and we both suck back air as we join, the feeling fucking beautiful. “Good God,” I breathe, fighting the urge to withdraw and thrust hard. “Okay?”