Chapter 24
We Can’t Go Back, Only Forward
CORIN
“At last.” I shut the outer door on my twittering, teasing middle daughter, cutting off the cold draft that swept into the house during the five minutes she lingered on the doorstep repeating things she’d already said three times over before finally heading back to her dorm.
My oldest daughter stands at the bottom of the staircase, laughing at me, as though she hadn’t aided and abetted Bebe every step of the way. They have ideas about what to do with Max’s money? Fine. They want to express opinions? Good.
Why do they have to do it now?
There’s a glorious, irritating light in Anamaria’s eyes as she tilts her head and takes in Johanna curled at one end of the couch, her blue-and-white polka-dotted dress bright against the pale gold upholstery, and myself, still dressed for work—except for having wrenched off the matching tie—waiting, impatiently for my daughter to head up and leave me and Johanna alone so we can discuss an ever-growing list of subjects.
After dinner, I’d have hustled Johanna off up to my room if I’d had my druthers.
But sweeping someone off their feet and carrying them upstairs requires a certain amount of cooperation on the part of the person being carried.
It’s the kind of romantic gesture that only works when one is sure the other welcomes it—which, with both of us being older and set in our ways, means advance consent.
Which requires frank talk.
Which, in turn, depends on time alone with no eager ears listening in.
The young woman facing me knows she’s old enough that I can’t order her to bed.
Her heat’s probably coming up soon, given how cuddly she’s been with all three of us this evening, and the shadowy lines beneath her eyes suggest she hasn’t been sleeping well.
I’m careful to never inquire too closely about that.
She has regular heats and arranges to be safely tended during them, and that’s all I need to know.
We’ve long since negotiated the boundaries of what Anamaria will permit from me when it comes to her being an omega. I’m allowed to worry, but not to hover.
The territory between me and Johanna used to be equally solid, but Max’s death upended everything.
Anamaria’s shifting from foot to foot, squirming and no longer meeting my gaze.
“Need a hug?”
She nods and lets me wrap her in my arms. Rubs her head against my cheek, scent marking me and picking up a hint of mine. Lilac and cedar mesh better than one might think.
Then, she turns a mischievous glance my way. “Remember all the times you lurked on the stairs when I wanted a little alone time with boyfriends and girlfriends? Payback is sweet.”
Turning on her toes, she trips up the stairs, her laughter floating down after her.
I wonder if she realizes just how true her words are, and how much I feel like a clumsy teenager all over again.
More ripples of laughter, warmer and more welcome, fall on my ears from Johanna. I pass by the near end of the sofa and settle right next to her. The soft cushions depress, tipping her against my side. This close, her subdued cranberry scent dispels the vestiges of Anamaria’s lilac.
Unfortunately, Johanna squirms and shifts to put a little space between us.
I turn so we’re face to face, mere feet separating our mouths. A flush tinges her cheeks to a lovely soft pink. Her mouth opens, and I instantly press a finger against my own lips.
“If you’re going to say anything more in favor of supporting the Sage Street Community, save it for tomorrow,” I warn.
“I just—”
“I get it. I’ve already agreed it’s a good idea, three times over.
” I sigh and kick off my shoes, letting the dull thuds as they tip over on the floor carry away a little of my frustration at retreading the topic all through dinner and beyond, when there are equally pressing and unsettled matters. “We need to talk about other things.”
“Such as?”
“Dan. Nathan. Us.”
She looks away, and the movement exposes the line of her throat. My inner alpha perks up, watching for her pulse and considering how well her skin would show a bite mark. Her index finger draws abstract circles and swirls on her thigh, creating a soft rustle as its tip passes over the silk.
“Do you want them to be part of this?” I ask, attention shifting between her bare neck, angled face, and finger tracing on silk. “Don’t make me guess. It’s important enough that I don’t want to take the chance of being wrong.”
“You’re not talking about the trust, are you?” She gives me a quick sideways glance—shy or coquettish?
“Johanna.”
“I don’t know why Max invited them.” Even dead, Max is always at the forefront of her thoughts. I don’t begrudge him his place there; I just wish she’d make room for more than him.
“It doesn’t matter for this.” I lean forward and brush her shoulder. She starts, shivering under the caress as the silk warms between our skin, face lifting to meet my gaze. My alpha puffs in pleasure at the lovely flush on her face, color spilling down her cheeks to her neck.
“But—”
“Max’s reasons don’t matter. He’s not here to ask. He never will be. We may trust he meant well, but have to go forward or not with them for our own sake. Not his.”
Johanna stops drawing circles on her thigh, instead clutching at the cloth and pulling the hem higher up her calf.
I draw a whistling breath through my teeth and grimace. “I’m sorry—I miss him too, it’s just ...”
“No, you’re right.” She releases the fabric, smoothing it over her leg. “We have to muddle through not knowing why.”
“We can guess.”
“Guess what?” She tilts her head high, likely unaware that the movement again exposes her neck, giving my alpha more opportunities to select a place to bite, should we ever have the chance. “That he asked them in hopes one or more would want to stick around?”
“Exactly.” I clap once, the sting of my palms meeting serves as a reminder to not push too hard, too fast. It’s so damn tough to resist.
“Why would he?” she asks.
“Because he loved you and wanted you to have the life you dreamed of.” Surely she knows, but maybe she needs to hear someone else say the words, especially someone who knew Max almost as well as she did.
“How can you know?” She rubs her hands, pressing her fingers against her collarbone.
“I can’t, but it’s the only thing that makes sense.” Careful to keep my grip gentle, I grasp her hands. Any sign of resistance, and I’ll let go.
She doesn’t pull back. Her fingers aren’t that cold, but I warm them between mine anyway, willing her to hear me.
“Don’t you dare let what Max might have wished be why you do anything with any of us.
Don’t build yourself a pack because he gave you the chance at one as a parting gift.
Don’t deny it for yourself, either, because of that.
Do it or not because it’s what you want. We can’t go back, only forward.”
“You think I’m not trying?” Johanna leans forward, chin up and out and eyes narrowed—but she doesn’t pull her hands away.
“I think you’re scared.”
“And you’re not?” This time she yanks away, retreating and folding her arms across her chest with her hands tucked under. Her scent has a sour edge that makes my alpha want to snarl and cuddle her close.
“Damn right I am.” I shake, faint but certain tremors running along my spine so that I can’t get a deep breath. It’s not just me trembling, but the world—or at least the cushions beneath and behind me.
My alpha vibrates in my chest, longing to lurch forward and grab her, but we can’t, not without some sign she’d welcome it.
Fists clenched against my thighs, I wait out the yearning until he subsides.
A few deep breaths, and some of the tension in my shoulders eases, though the sofa cushions continue to quiver.
Time to start again, give Johanna something else to chew on. However, I don’t expect the truth that falls from my mouth.
“It took all of five months after we met before I loved you.”
She stills, and only then does the world cease trembling. We’ve both stopped moving. The smell of sour cranberries remains, but at least it doesn’t grow any more bitter.
“Before then, you were Max’s Johanna, and I loved you because he did.
Otherwise, I put up with you.” I let the truths spill out, one after another.
“You were just an irritating collaborator who sometimes came up with good ideas and, more often, poked humiliatingly logical holes in mine. Until one day, we were at a table, just the two of us, throwing verbal darts at each other, and out of nowhere, you laughed.”
Her mouth is agape, chest rising and falling as she stares at me. No laughter now, yet if I were to close my eyes, I could summon memory of that light, rippling sound that marked the change in our relationship from before to after.
“From then on, I loved you as a person I valued and wanted in my life. Don’t ask me how many ways I’ve loved you, or when romantic love was added to the list, or when I first desired you.
I can’t pinpoint when any of that happened.
” I shrug and spread out my hands. “I just know I loved you then, and I love you more and differently now, and it’s not a betrayal of Max. ”
She’s panting now, breaths high in her chest, breasts jiggling. My alpha is, understandably, distracted, but I forge on regardless.
“If Max hadn’t died, I don’t know if we’d have come to this point or not,” Giving in to my own longing and my alpha’s, I reclaim one of her hands to hold in mine.
Cherish it, stroke her soft skin, taking pleasure in the way her fingers quiver at my touch.
“But he did, and we are, and as sad as I am to have lost him, I’m not sorry to be here now with you.
I want you in my life in all ways, morning, noon, and night. ”
“I was doing so well.” She sniffs and glares, rubbing her eyes with her free hand. “And then, you just had to break out into a big romantic speech.”