Chapter Forty-Six Larissa #2
“That’s not funny,” I croak. “And that was a lie.”
“I know.” His chest bounces.
“Zo, this isn’t funny—”
“It was always him, ángel,” he dismisses, running a soft finger down my cheek to trace my tears. “Always.”
“It’s why you never took your shirt off when we were intimate.
” I sniff. “The worst part—” I rub my raw nose before lifting my head and staring at the man he’s become.
All hard lines, crystalline blue and utterly beautiful.
“I knew but didn’t want to. I was too much of a fucking coward,” I admit brokenly.
“Can you ever forgive me for being so selfish?”
“I broke both our hearts that day,” he whispers. “And every day after, because I was the coward.”
“Never, I will never believe that, and I’m so sorry I said it. If you had told me—”
“Shhh, it’s over,” he finalizes, wanting to be done with it.
“You had to know I loved you, Zo. I really loved you and always will.”
I’d almost kissed him then, but we were too raw and foreign to one another. It’s that moment that lingers between us now as his eyes fully capture and hold mine. My heart beating soundly with him safely inside. “Wish them a Merry Christmas for me?”
He nods as I lift to my toes and press a kiss to his jaw. “Merry Christmas. See you tomorrow?”
Alonzo takes my cue not to let our interloper steal what peace we’ve managed to claim, thawing fully with his returned sentiment.
“Feliz Navidad, mi ángel bonito. Gracias por estar a mi lado.” His fresh pine scent lingers as he stalks out, and I call after him just before he closes the door.
“I still don’t speak Spanish.”
Within the same second, I feel the undeniable masculine presence at my back, his scent invading before his words hit.
“He said, Merry Christmas, my beautiful angel. Thank you for being by my side,” Tyler interprets. “Translation—he’s still in love with you and wants that to remain the case.”
His presence hits me, as does the annoyance that follows. One that tells me he remains the cure, not the cause.
“I didn’t think you would be here before he left.”
“We gained an extra half hour in the air.”
“You’ll have to get used to him at some point.
” Turning, I see he’s already eye level with the babies, his expression lighting up with what can only be construed as adoration.
As he takes them in, I do the same, noting the thick cream sweater hugging his biceps and chest that hangs in bulk around his muscular forearms. His ill-fitting clothes make it obvious that he’s lost weight and muscle mass, and his hair is a little longer on top, curling slightly at the ends.
His beard is again outlined, erasing all signs of the Marine.
He’s looking more like a man of leisure now than the right hand of the president.
A far cry from the man I glimpsed one too many times on TV.
Murmuring, he presses his forehead to Alexander’s, inhaling deeply while palming Macey’s white stocking–covered leg.
His eyes desperately roaming over each baby for every detail, as if his very life depends on the sight of them.
“I’ve missed you so much,” he murmurs between them as I step back and allow him the exchange.
“I’ll let you—”
“Don’t go,” he speaks, feeling my retreat before lifting gentle, probing brown eyes to mine. “I mean, you can, but we don’t get to talk between—” He pauses before choosing each word. “Will you just tell me a little about them before you go?”
Pulling Macey from her seat into his arms, he pins the bow attached to her headband with his chin while gently running his fingers over her crimson velvet dress. Caressing her as if she is the most precious thing on earth.
It’s then that I recall the similar stroke of his fingers—of the tenderness inside that touch, envious of his easily granted affection for her while growing ashamed of my jealousy in the same second.
In return, she begins pawing at his beard as he gently bounces her at his hip, looking every bit the doting father that all close to him assured he would be.
At the sight of them, I fight the gnaw that threatens.
A gnaw I swore I buried, as I continue to watch them, entranced.
Their interaction so natural, as if they hadn’t been apart a single day.
“You look so beautiful,” he delivers roughly, panic flirting across his expression, as if the words fell from his lips before he could stop them.
His eyes sweep my new dress, which matches Macey’s in color, along with my painted lips.
A reward for myself after getting more of the weight off, even as his attention and whispered words spike a trail of goosebumps along my neck—a reaction I refuse to acknowledge, instead addressing his inquiry.
“What do you want to know?”
“Everything,” he utters, “but I’ll start with, is he sleeping better?”
He nods toward Alexander, who chooses that moment to let out a blood-curdling squeal. Tyler’s eyes widening in response before he bursts with a deep chuckle. “Well, he’s still a noise maker.”
“You don’t know the half of it,” I state in fair warning.
“But how I want to,” he whispers, kissing Macey’s forehead reverently while scanning the villa as the fool that still dwells inside reminds me of how those lashes fluttered when he drew upon me.
His words cutting through my rapidly racing thoughts as he speaks of my remodel.
“It looks great in here. The tree is beautiful—you went old-school, huh?”
His words stun me, and I nod slowly as more recollections of his pleasured expression twist the knife further, resulting in tense seconds of pure. Fucking. Torture.
“Much better,” I utter meekly before clearing my throat, “he’s sleeping much better.
” Tyler tilts his head just as my nostrils flare when his scent invades me, and I take the full foot of space I need.
His brows furrowing as he watches me struggle not to cover the nipples rapidly drawing against my dress.
WHAT. IN. THE. FUCK?
Anger brews as familiar tension begins to mount while a familiar pulse starts to beat between my thighs.
In no way should this man still be able to elicit such a strong reaction from me.
The discomfort wholly unwanted as I try to salvage what peace and calm I had mere minutes ago.
While also praying for the ability to withstand the strength and allure of the man standing feet away—and the memory of the pleasure he’s capable of giving me.
All of it wiped instantaneously by the summoned image of that perfume bottle. As if seeing it with me, the smirk that was just lifting his lips thins out.
“Be thankful for the first weeks you had,” I add with the renewed strength I feel. “Because neither sleeps through the night now. And if one wakes, they make sure to take the other with them. I’m positive they’ve started that twin telepathy thing in the most deviant of ways.”
“Yeah?” He grins down as Alexander flails as if reaching for him, wanting to hurl himself from his seat.
“An inherited trait, no doubt,” I utter, and Tyler’s smile mutes thanks to my barb. Why did I have to go there? And why did it hurt me?
Imprisoned by the feelings the image evokes, I decide I still want to hate him, but our babies don’t. Proving as much as they both start to gravitate toward him like he’s catnip. It’s when Alexander doubles over in his seat that my eyes bulge.
“Whoa,” I say just as Tyler places a gentle palm on Alexander’s chest, keeping the little traitor anchored. As I secure him in, Tyler’s exhale dances along my neck, our hands brushing with our collective effort. The contact jarring as his eyes cut to and blaze my profile.
“He’s buckled,” I report idiotically just after the telltale click sounds, ripping my hand away.
Ridiculous, Larissa. Get a fucking grip.
But with him, I can’t. An infuriating truth which only becomes more apparent as his spicy scent invades me further, having already ruined half a dozen meals, as he makes another inquiry. “How was your Thanksgiving?”
“We don’t celebrate here,” I counter, “but you apparently celebrate year-round.”
He presses his lips together firmly, biting away a smile before speaking up. “Don’t like my cologne?”
“Sure”—I shrug—“if you want to smell like something stuffed up a turkey’s ass.”
Laughter bursts from him as I pull Alexander to me to shield my own damning smile.
The tense moment passing as Tyler animates for Alexander, who seems to be doing whatever he can to gain access to his father’s arms—the Judas.
But as I get a closer look, I notice Tyler’s true state, unable to help but blurt, “You’ve lost weight. ”
“Yeah.” He lowers his eyes, worrying his full bottom lip with his teeth before lifting his gaze. “Believe it or not, it’s the healthiest thing I’ve done in a very long time.”
“This is healthy?” I ask, nodding toward his sagging jeans.
“I’m allowing my outsides to match what I’m feeling inside for the first time, well, fucking ever. But I promise this is an improvement,” he assures. “I’m—” He tilts his head, choosing more words. “I’m getting myself handled, and I’m sorry, really sorry if I scared you. No, I know I did.”
“No more than usual.” I scratch my nose.
His eyes latch onto mine. “It scared me, too, okay? Enough to do something about it.”
“Enough to go on a diet you don’t need?”
“Enough to actively grieve my wife,” he delivers in a rush.
As if it’s too painful to speak. “As well as deal with other things I’ve been avoiding for a long time.
I’m talking to a licensed therapist who’s a vet.
Someone who’s been in active combat and can help me manage.
” His unexpected confession has my lips parting with an apology, and he reads it, denying me the chance to give it as he continues speaking.
“Like I said, you saved me. You woke me up. I’m awake now, and I—” He cuts himself off and presses another slow kiss to Macey’s temple before speaking. “Thank you.”
It’s when I scratch my nose again that his eyes scan me warily. “So, it’s a nervous tic,” he states.
“What?”
“You scratched your nose a lot when we—” He tilts his head again. “Why are you nervous? Please don’t be afraid of me.”
“Not enough therapy for that, is there, Marine?”
“Tyler,” he declares without a hint of malice, and the pain from my jab lances through me once more. “It’s Tyler, Larissa.”
“To your friends and family.”
“It’s Tyler,” he emphasizes, “to the mother of my children.”
“Oh-kay.”
His eyes go from me to Macey, her stockings and dress, and back to me.
“What?”
“I—No pictures, right?”
I shake my head. “Nothing digital for now.”
“I thought as much.” Arms full of Macey, he walks her over to his duffel bag and unzips it, pulling out a box before presenting it to me. Though the box is unwrapped, there’s a bow on top. “This is just a hope, from my mom—it’s one of those old Polaroid cameras.”
“Smart, and appreciated, really. But Alonzo got one already.”
“Right.” He nods, tone tempered, expressionless, which brings me no satisfaction.
His lingering confession muting my protective hostility while stoking my curiosity.
My access to him is now limited to only what he reveals, after years of the opposite.
My scorched heart refusing me to ask a single one as his own cuts through. “So, you’re together now?”
“Still not your business, Marine,” I answer, far less bitingly than the last time, before pulling a mercury ornament from the box, attempting to separate the string.
Alexander fists my hair as I struggle for a few seconds before skilled fingers slip through mine, separating the thread enough for me to secure it onto the branch.
My thank-you coming out low as his warmth demands acknowledgment.
It’s the sight of him standing next to my Hallmark Christmas tree, looking every bit a wise man who’d like to fuck me, that does me in.
“Okay, take him,” I state as the image threatens to imprint itself into memory. Knowing I’ll go my whole life resenting him for this debilitating level of attraction.
“Don’t go,” he urges before reluctantly taking Alexander.
“I’m not doing this.”
“Doing what?” he prods.
“Pretending I’m part of the reason you’re here.”
“You are,” he returns instantly.
“Not like that,” I dismiss.
“Exactly like that.”
“I pumped—bottles are in the fridge. You’re sleeping here. Let them nap, but don’t change their clothes, okay?”
Without waiting for a reply, I head for the door giving me access to the house.
“Larissa.” The command in his voice stops me short, and I glance back to see him cradling both babies, his expression tight as he hesitates a few seconds before speaking. “If I don’t see you tomorrow … Merry Christmas and thank you for having me.”
I nod before stalking out of the room on a mission for my own vat of wine.