*
What I wouldn’t give to go back to last night, lying in bed with Austin. Really, I would rather be anywhere, even jail, than sitting at Austin’s beautiful new dining table with his mom, dad, his sister Bre, and her husband.
Uncomfortable is an understatement for what I’m feeling. Since the moment I arrived thirty minutes ago, there have been few words spoken, but I guess you really don’t need words when you can see every single unsaid statement written on each of their faces.
Shawn, Bre’s husband, looks about as uncomfortable as I feel, as he keeps his head down and his eyes on the plate in front of him. His wife hasn’t taken her eyes off me for more than a few seconds, like she expects me to either wig out or disappear into thin air in front of her eyes.
Austin’s mom, who greeted me with a very quiet ‘hello’, which felt more like a dismissal, has been looking at her son like he invited the devil to dine with them, while Austin’s dad has attempted to keep the mood light with small talk.
“Austin said you bought Larry’s office space. Is that right?” Bruce, Austin’s dad, asks, taking a drink from his beer.
“I close in a week, if all the paperwork goes through” I explain lightly, hearing a hum from Shayla, Austin’s mom.
“Are you sticking around this time?” she asks after a moment.
There it is—the giant elephant in the room has just sat down at the table and joined us for dinner.
“That’s the plan,” I say quietly, feeling Austin’s hand on my thigh tighten almost painfully, like he also expects me to run away.
“Hmmm,” she hums again, looking between her son and me.
“That’s new for you, the whole sticking around thing, isn’t it?” Bre asks, while her husband turns to look at her, muttering something under his breath.
“It’s just a question,” she replies, frowning at him.
The urge to get up from the table is so strong that my muscles bunch in anticipation. I fight it back, taking a drink of my wine, trying to avoid gulping the whole glass down. I don’t need them to think I’m a lush, on top of being a flake.
I know they have a right to be concerned, but I still hate feeling the way I do, like every fear I ever had at eighteen, every choice I made, even unselfishly, has caused this.
“Watch it,” Austin growls as I set my wine glass on the table, trying not to let them see the way my hand is shaking.
“It’s okay,” I say, resting my hand over his on my thigh and intertwining my fingers between his. “I love your son, your brother,” I say, knowing that it’s stupid to say it to them, when I haven’t even told Austin how I feel about him. But I feel stuck and hope that if I lay my cards on the table, they will understand just how much he means to me.
“I know I acted foolishly when I left, but I was young and never wanted him to have to choose between me and the rest of his life. I was afraid that one day I was going to wake up and he wasn’t going to be there, either in following his path for the future or having that dream rip us apart, because I forced him into a life he didn’t want to have.” I lower my eyes to the table, mumbling quietly, “I’m sorry for hurting him.”
His hand on my thigh tightens almost painfully and I feel tears spring to my eyes. “Sorry,” I whisper, get up from the table, and pass the couches that Austin’s parents delivered. The dark blue velvet material looks amazing against the backdrop of the view, but I don’t see it as I storm by, because my eyes are full of tears.
Going into the bathroom, I shut the door without even turning on the light and slide to the floor, wrapping my arms around my legs and pressing my forehead into my knees as silent tears wrack my body. Breathing in deep, shuddering breaths I try to fill my lungs with enough oxygen that my tears will die down, but nothing seems to be working. There’s a tap on the door, then my body is moving as the light turns on and the door pushes in.
“Shhh.” Austin pulls me into his arms, settling me on his lap as he sits on the floor, making me cry harder.
“I’m sorry,” I get out through the tears clogging my throat.
“Baby, you’re killing me right now.”
“You should be out there with your family,” I sob into his shirt, pulling him closer to me as I realize I don’t have any family. I’m alone, adrift at sea, fighting to breathe, with no one there to rescue me.
“I love you, Lea. I always have and will, even in death. You’re my family, and I’m yours.”
His words pull me to the surface so fast that my heart erupts inside my chest, filling my lungs with oxygen and forcing the darkness that was settling inside of me out. “How can you say you love me after the way I left?”
“Because you came home to me,” he whispers.
I turn my head up and wrap my arms around the back of his neck, pulling his mouth down to mine in a kiss that I pray shows him just how much he means to me, how much I love him. When he pulls his mouth away, he lays his forehead against mine.
“I’m pissed that you waited until now to say that you love me,” he says, reaching over and pulling some toilet paper off the roll, handing it to me.
“Why are you mad?” I ask, confused as I blot my eyes.
“That should have been one of the moments you memorized,” he says, softly rubbing my cheek.
I smile, surprising myself, then lean in and rub my nose along his. “Me saying it isn’t memorable. You saying it back is what I will carry with me.”
“Swear to God, you’re gonna kill me,” he grunts, pulling me closer until I’m straddling him.
Placing my hands on his shoulders, I lower my face until we’re sharing the same breath. Neither of us speak in that moment. I don’t know what he’s thinking or feeling, and I can see that he wants to tell me something, but he doesn’t know how to do it. “What is it?” I whisper, moving my hands to hold his face.
“Nothing, it can wait,” he says smiling, but I notice it doesn’t reach his eyes. Before I can ask him what it is, he kisses me again, standing up and putting me on my feet. Vowing to ask him later I go to the sink and splash some water on my face, thankful I didn’t wear much makeup and my mascara is waterproof. His hands wrap around my waist and his mouth touches my neck as I dry my hands and face. “You don’t have to go back out there. You can go up to the room, or—”
“I’m not hiding,” I say, looking at his reflection in the mirror.
“If you go back out there, know that they will be on their best behavior.”
“Because you’re making them.” I frown. I don’t want them to be nice to me because of him. I want them to just accept my apology and move on.
“Not because of me, because of you. You just gutted everyone at that table.”
“I’m—”
His arms tighten around me, cutting off my apology before it can even leave my mouth. “You’re not going to say you’re sorry about that shit. They should have kept their mouths closed. They should have trusted me enough to know that I know what I’m doing, that I don’t need them cutting in.”
“They love you.” I remind him gently and his eyes go soft.
He shakes his head then kisses my temple. “You ready?”
I nod again and he takes my hand in his, leading me out of the bathroom. Once we reach the dining room, the conversation dies and Shayla gets up from her chair, coming towards me. Her eyes are red and her lips puffy. I can tell she has been crying, and I hate I did that to her.
“I’m so sorry, Lea,” she says, taking my hand.
“It’s okay,” I say automatically.
“It’s not.” More tears form in her eyes, and she shifts back and forth on her feet in front of me awkwardly, like a child who is unsure of what to do. “Can I hug you?” she whispers. I nod and she wraps her arms around me then sobs. I pat her back awkwardly then feel another set of arms wrap around me, and know instantly they are Bre’s, and she’s crying as well.
Surprisingly, I don’t cry during our embrace. I don’t even know the emotions I’m feeling. Then,
Austin’s dad moves to us, pulling his wife away, followed by Shawn, who takes Bre into his side. “We’re so sorry, Lea. We didn’t even think about what you must have been feeling back then. We were just so upset by how you left that seeing you now, our emotions got the better of us,” Shayla says, wiping her eyes.
“I understand,” I say, wringing my hands in front of me, uncomfortable with the turn of events.
“Can we start over?” Bre asks, and I look at her and bite my lip, unable to even understand what the hell is going on in my head. Part of me wants to ask why, when fifteen years ago we didn’t speak. We were not close then, and I didn’t expect that to change now. All I craved was for them to look at it from my point of view, to see it through the eyes of a young girl who’d just lost her father to the same life her fiancé had been leading her towards. That thought causes a pang to hit my chest. Austin is still fishing; something could still happen to him. And I don’t know if I’m stronger now than I was back then.
“Lea.” Austin’s voice and his hand on my hip force my head to turn towards him. Seeing the concern in his eyes fills my chest with guilt. I have to try, for him.
“We can start over,” I say softly, looking at Bre then Shayla. Both women nod, but they still look unsure about how to act, which only makes me more uncomfortable.
“Let’s go back to eating before the babies wake up,” Shawn says, breaking the tension that had settled around the room.
“I’m going to get another glass of wine. Would anyone else like something?” I ask, heading towards the kitchen, needing just a few more minutes before sitting down at dinner with them again. The air may have been cleared, but my heart still hurts.
When everyone says no, I walk into the kitchen then squeak when I’m turned and lifted onto the counter, and then Austin’s mouth is on mine and his hips are between my legs. The first nip of his teeth on my bottom lip causes me to gasp and open my mouth to him. His tongue tangles with mine and his hand wraps around my hair, pulling back, causing my core to convulse. I never knew I would crave giving up control to someone else, but with Austin, every part of me comes alive under his touch. When he pulls his mouth from mine, we are both breathing heavily, my legs are tight around him, and my hands are wrapped around his shirt.
“What was that for?” I ask.
“I needed to know you were here with me.”
“What?” I whisper.
He leans back, his hand comes up to hold my cheek, and his thumb runs over my lips. “There are times you get this look in your eyes. It’s sad and unsure, and when I see it, my instinct is to pick you up and carry you away from whatever caused it.” His thumb sweeps over my lips again and his eyes search mine. “I hate that look, baby.”
Placing my forehead on his chest, I mutter, “I just don’t know how to feel right now.”
“That’s okay,” he says, rubbing his hands up and down my back, trying to comfort me. His touch helps some, but now that the seed has planted itself in my head about losing him, I don’t know what to do. “Let’s get you another glass of wine.”
“Yeah,” I agree, hopping down off the counter, watching him as he pulls a new bottle of wine from the fridge and opens it.
“Ready?”
Taking his hand I let him lead me back into the dining room, where everyone is quietly talking. Taking my seat next to Austin I wait for him to pour me another glass of wine then pick it up and taking a gulp, letting the cool liquid relax me.
Sitting quietly through the rest of dinner, my mind is consumed with worry. Worry that I may not be able to fight back whatever it is that’s making me feel like I want to cling to Austin, but push him away at the same time.
Chapter 14
Lea
Placing another batch of cookies on the cookie sheet in front of me, I look out the double doors to the deck and watch Austin as he talks on the phone to his mom. His feet up on the railing and a beer in his hand, which is resting on his stomach.
A week and a half ago, I closed on my office. Austin’s mom actually surprised me with an antique desk from one of the secondhand stores in town and she’s bringing me a truck full of office supplies from Anchorage over the weekend. She is making an effort to get to know me, and I’m doing the same with her, only cautiously.
I pull my eyes from Austin and place the cookies in the oven then take three off the plate, wrap them in a paper towel, and head out to the deck, handing two to Austin as I take a seat next to him. He mouths, Thank you, then pulls my feet up to rest over his thighs as he continues to talk to his mom.
“I know, Mom,” he mutters, taking a bite out of his cookie while looking annoyed. “Yeah, love you too. Later.” He pulls the phone away from his ear and sets it on the table next to him then shoves the rest of the cookie into his mouth.
“Is everything okay?” I ask when he’s done chewing.
“Mom asked when we’re getting married,” he says simply, like he is telling me what color the sky is, and the bite I was taking of my cookie flies out of my mouth as I practically shout, “What?!”
“She says it’s inevitable, so we may as well stop wasting time and just get it over with.”
“Get it over with?” I repeat in shock feeling my mouth fall open.
“Those were her words,” he says, looking out at the water that is turning a beautiful color coral as the sun begins to set below the island off to the side of the house. “I agree with her.” His gaze comes back to me and locks on mine as his face softens.
“You agree with her,” I repeat, because I’m at a complete loss for words.
“I’ve been in love with you for almost eighteen years. I think it’s safe to say that isn’t going to change.”
Okay, so he has a point. My feelings for him never changed; well, they grew and expanded into something different, but I’m still in love with him, even more so now than I was back then. But marriage?
“We already live together,” he states, making me frown, causing him to shake his head. “You’ve been with me every day. You haven’t slept without me unless I’m on the boat, even then you’re still here. We live together.”
“Okay, we live together,” I mutter. I mean, I know that, kind of. My clothes are in his closet, but we never talked about it. It just kind of happened.
“You don’t want to get married?” he asks as his eyes search my face.
“No,” I say, and anger fills his eyes. My face softens and I move from my chair, climbing onto his lap and straddling him. “I want to marry you, no one else,” I explain softly, pushing my fingers through his hair.
“Damn right, only me,” he grunts, grabbing my ass and pulling me tighter against him, making me smile.
“We still have stuff we haven’t talked about,” I say, worried as I watch pain slice through his features.
He shakes his head like he’s getting rid of whatever put that look in his eyes, then murmurs, “We have years, Lea. As long as we’re together, nothing else matters.” He leans in and places a soft kiss on my mouth then holds my face gently in his hands. “Now, tell me you’ll be my wife.”
“Is that really how you’re going to ask me to marry you? You’re going to tell me what to say?” I laugh, leaning my forehead against his.
“Whatever works.” He smiles, then his eyes go soft and he pulls my forehead away from his. “Lea Lamb, will you marry me?”
Tears sting my nose and I squeeze my eyes closed briefly before opening them back up and meeting his gaze. “I have always been yours, Wolf, so the answer is yes.”
“We’re gonna be happy, Little Lamb.” His hands wrap around my jaw and he tugs gently, bringing my mouth to his, nipping my bottom lip then the top one before wrapping his hand around my hair and tilting my head to the side, deepening the kiss.
“What are you doing?” I squeak, wrapping my arms around his shoulders and legs around his hips as he picks me up.
“Taking you to bed,” he mutters, carrying me upstairs to the bedroom, where he makes love to me
gently before tucking me into his side and falling asleep.
“Austin,” I whimper, pressing my heels into the mattress and lifting my core farther into his mouth as he devours me. I woke up moments ago, with his face between my legs.
“Fuck my face, Lea,” he growls, adding one finger then two, pressing them deep inside me, then curling up and hitting my g-spot.
“I’m going to come,” I moan as my head tilts back and my legs close around his ears, trapping his mouth and fingers in place as an orgasm rocks through my body almost unexpectedly, sending me off to the stars. I come back to myself as he thrusts, planting himself deep, I wrap my legs around him, rocking my hips forward, trying to get him to move. As I tangle my hands in his hair, his head bends forward, pulling one nipple into his mouth, stealing a moan from my throat as his hands slide around my back, lifting my ass higher.
“Please move,” I whimper, using the heels of my feet on the back of his thighs to rock up and down his length. “Yes!” I cry as he slides out then slams deep over and over, hitting something deep inside me. His mouth moves to mine as his hand slides up, cupping my breasts, then down over my stomach so his thumb can roll over my clit.
His pace picks up, his thrusts become jerky, and then his mouth moves to my nipple, pulling hard, sending a zing to my core, and another orgasm rocks through me, this one bigger than the first. My limbs tighten as my core convulses around him, pulling him deeper as he groans his orgasm into the skin of my throat.
“Morning.” He smiles, lifting his head. His eyes are soft and there is a new brightness in them that puts me at ease.
“Morning.” I smile back, feeling my eyes begin to slide closed.
“Sleep, baby,” he chuckles, kissing me as he pulls out. Then the bed dips and I hear the shower turn on as I fall back asleep.
“I’m heading out.”
“Love you.” I snuggle deeper under the covers, feeling him kiss me once more.
“Love you, baby. See you in forty-eight hours.” That thought makes me pout. His laugh hits my ears and I open my eyes to glare at him. “I’ll be home before you know it.” Settling my hand on his beard covered cheek, his head turns and he kisses my palm then pulls his fist out of the bed, muttering, “Be good.”