“I’ve missed you,” she whispers when I’m hovering above her. I lower myself to my elbows, where I’m wedged between her thighs.
I don’t use words to tell her but kiss her so deeply she’ll know how much I’ve missed her, too. I break away long enough to grab a condom from the pocket of my jeans, then I’m back to see her smiling up at me.
“Always prepared,” she jokes. And I am. There’s no reason to take unnecessary risks.
“Always,” I smirk, and she’s remembering, just like I am, the first time we slept together.
We mingle our pasts and present in harmony. Our past moments of pain are hidden because we’re only singing the lighter tunes right now. And when I slip inside her, I forget everything else but this moment right here. And when her moans echo off the bedroom walls, a gorgeous melody, I tangle our fingers together above her head and stare down at her, watching her smile spread. I realize I’m watching my forever.
The rain pelts off my bedroom window, but even the early morning dreariness can’t dampen this feeling in my chest. Life has given me Eloise again, and I’m trying to keep the thoughts, those negative ones I have, away. They’re creeping closer, edging into my mind that this time with her is too good to last.
Eloise rolls over, her naked body snuggling close to mine, the white sheet draping low on her tanned body. I’ve never woken up with a woman before, and the scene is more than I could have imagined. Her red hair spreads across my pillow and arm, the curve of her breast against my chest.
“Are you staring at me?” The sound of her morning voice, so deep and accented, hits me. I’ve never heard her groggy sleep-riddled voice before, and it stirs something so deep in my bones. Her emerald eyes flutter open, and the sureness that I love her hits me square in the chest. She looks beautiful. Light and happy. I dip down and steal her mouth.
Eloise dips her head away. “I have morning breath. Do you always try to kiss in the morning?”
“I guess so, this is my first time.”
Her head snaps back up, and her eyes widen. Her response makes me laugh because it gives me access to her mouth again.
“Mine too,” she says when we break away. Her confession twists my heart. It just makes letting her go that much more wrong. Neither one of us ever found love again, and it doesn’t sound like we tried.
“What are we doing, Maverick?”
“I’m not sure,” I admit, then push one of her wayward strands away from her cheek.
“Is it crazy that I don’t want to think about it right now? I don’t want to think about anything else but this moment?”
I shake my head, no. “That’s not crazy at all.”
She pushes me to my back then climbs on top of me. The sheet falls away, exposing her body to my gaze. My hands go to her waist as she leans forward, her hair becoming a curtain around us.
Her mouth explores—her lips tasting their way down my body. It’s her turn, and she takes control, leaving me as nothing more than putty in her hands. The moment she’s low enough that her lips wrap around me, there’s nothing else in the world for me to worry about. A few moments later, I pull her back up. She straddles my lap and takes everything she wants from me, and I know I’m not going to let her go this time.
I just have to figure out how to tell her she’s mine again.
“Are you making me breakfast?” Eloise asks. I turn to the right to find a sleep-rumpled and gorgeous Eloise taking her spot against the counter. My gaze lowers to take in the smooth skin of her legs, exposed because she’s only wearing a loose t-shirt of mine.
“Don’t set your expectations too high. It’s bacon and eggs. The only thing I don’t mess up in the kitchen besides frozen pizza.”
She walks up behind me, wraps her arms around my waist, and kisses the spot between my shoulder blades. I hadn’t bothered getting dressed—instead slipping on a pair of boxers—and called it good. I’m thankful for it now.
We haven’t talked more—instead, spending hours re-learning each other intimately. The rest I hope will come with time. There’s a lot of history to still work out. I broke her heart. She’s got to trust I won’t do it again. There’s also so much still standing between us. Her life is still in LA. I have the ranch to run. I can’t take Betsy from school and move her to LA now. What about money? Our home? Could I live with myself giving the ranch away? Would Eloise even want me to follow?
Okay, yeah, we’ve got a lot of shit to talk about. I open my mouth to speak just as her cell phone rings.
“That’s me,” she says. “Probably just a PR mess I need to clean up or EmmaJean checking in. I’ll be right back.”
I nod my head and return my attention to something simpler. Although my bacon is darker than I like, I pull the skillet away from the heat and make two plates, waiting for her to return.
She steps back into the room, and when I look at her, all the blood seems to drain from my body.
“Eloise?”
I’m rushing toward her, as she falls to the ground. I hold her secure to my chest. The sobs wracking her body, her cries breaking my heart.
And I know—her father has left us.
13
Chapter Thirteen
Eloise
I’m sitting in my usual chair beside his now-empty bed. He left me last night. Drifted to death in his sleep. We knew it was coming, and he had prepared us, but I’d been holding out for hope, and he hadn’t tried to take that from me. It was a silly thing to hope for something—like more time with him—because he was in so much pain.
Mallory called me this morning after she took care of everything herself.
I cried into Maverick’s arms, and I don’t even know how long he held me and let me unload the burden of my father’s death on him. Then he drove me here.
I’ve been sitting for a few hours, waiting beside his empty bed. Mallory has been out with her horses, barely saying a word to us. I checked on her, but she said she was fine. And that’s all she’s said since her phone call earlier. Maverick is out there with her, spreading his time between both of us.
“There wasn’t enough time to make up for all those years we lost,” I say into the darkness of the room with only the same lamp he had on every night illuminating the space. The sun has set in the time I’ve spent staring into the empty room.
With all my tears cried out, I open my book and sit like I did every night at this time. His copy of the book is sitting at his bedside, marked on the same chapter as mine. We’d been reading it together.
I read one line, one sentence. It should be easy to keep going on, but I don’t. I’ll never be able to finish this story with my father.
The tears are streaming down my cheeks, and I’m wrapped in Maverick’s arms again. I hadn’t heard him enter, but it was like he knew I was in pain and found me again.
“He’s gone.” Somehow I choke the words out past the emotions closing my throat.
“I know, babe.” His hold tightens. Closing my eyes, I let Maverick hold me as the blackness takes over again. It’s not much time later that he carries me to my bedroom. The gentle swaying of his body is the comfort I need right now.