Chapter Seventy-Seven
Isla
Oh my God, he smelled so good.
And oh my God, he was here!
And Linc was here.
Why did he do that? “How could you?” Shit. My words smushed together.
“How could I what?”
Cradling me in his arms like I was a baby, he somehow managed to turn on the shower without letting go of me.
“How did you do that?” Was that part of his super SEAL skills?
“Do what?”
My head spun. “This isn’t that game.” What was it called? “A million questions.” Why did he smell so good? “Pick one and answer.”
“If I knew what the hell you were asking, I would.” He kicked the door shut.
“Uh-oh.” He was mad. “You’re mad.” My body tilted.
“Livid.”
Livid was bad. “I’m tilting.” Falling on hard tile would be worse. “I don’t want to fall and crack my head open.”
“You’re not going to fall.”
I already had. “How do you know?” He didn’t know anything.
My feet touched the ground, but my head was jerked up by my chin, then angry green eyes stared down at me in judgment. “I would never let you fall, but you didn’t give me a chance to prove that. Why did you leave?”
My heart turned to dust, and I choked on a whisper. “He has your eyes.”
“I know.”
Tears welled, and drunk guilt squeezed me harder than sober guilt. “Why did you bring him here?”
“He was upset, Isla.”
So was I. But I didn’t matter. A fifteen-year-old boy with a broken heart did. “I can’t hurt him.” Hot steam filled the bathroom, and my head started to pound, which reminded me that I was also angry.
“Then you shouldn’t have run.”
“I didn’t run,” I defended. “I came home.”
“Did you?”
There was too much wine in me to discern his one-sided game of nuance. “This is my childhood. I grew up here.”
“Neither of us had an upbringing that allowed for childhood.”
Suddenly not so drunk, I blinked.
This intuitive man who saw too much of me wasn’t finished. “This is not your home, Isla.”
The force of his voice, the authority behind it, the surety, it shook me.
It shook me so hard, I was already fighting—against him, against all of it.
“You shouldn’t have brought Linc here.” I tried to push at his chest, but my body swayed, and I overcompensated, or my voice did—with anger. Loud anger. “You called me a hooker!”
“Lower your voice.”
I didn’t lower anything. “Then you fucked me.”
“We are not alone, intruse.”
Shit. Did Linc hear that? “Fine. Slept with me,” I amended, remembering what happened after.
“And then, bang!” I tried to slap my hands together, but all that happened was a misfire of coordination.
“You just moved me right in and set me up.” I peered up at him and tried to give my voice that low, angry sound he always made. “You set me up.”
“I did not use the term hooker. I did not set you up. I brought you into my home—our home, our lives—where you belong.” His huge hand snaked under my hair, and he gripped the back of my head. “And Lincoln is here because I do not leave my son, Isla.”
Oh God.
Lincoln.
Anger fled, and guilt crushed me. “You don’t get it.
” He couldn’t ever get it. “You weren’t supposed to leave him.
” My words were tilting. My whole world was fucking tilting.
“You were supposed to stay. You and Linc. I was supposed to go.” I did go.
“I did what I was supposed to.” But it hurt.
It hurt so much, I drank the wine. Then I found an old bottle in the cupboard and drank that wine too. I hated wine.
“You ran,” he ground out.
My muscles drooped with a sudden relief that felt all wrong. “Yes.” I ran. “So far away.” But he found me. Him and his son. How did he do that? “How did you—” I hiccupped. “Shit.” I needed sleep. “It’s too warm in here.” But I was always cold. “You can go.” That felt cold.
“I’m not going anywhere.” His hands disappeared from my body, and my sweatshirt, that wasn’t mine or even a sweatshirt, whipped over my head.
“Hey!” My body swayed, and my nipples tightened from… from… “Oh my God.”
He dropped to a knee, my hands planted on his shoulders, and he yanked my leggings down.
I tried to whisper. “What are you doing? Linc’s right outside.”
He stood. I was suddenly naked. And we weren’t in Florida.
“You’re taking a shower.” He gripped my waist, and in the next second, I was airborne.
Everything spun.
Then hot water struck my cold body like a blast of stinging needles. Covering my face, I cried out. “Stop!” Oh God, that hurt. “It hurts.” Everything hurt.
“It’s forty-five degrees out, and you had the door open with no heat on. We’re bringing your body temp up.”
No, he wasn’t. “No, you’re not.” He didn’t understand. “There is no heat.” I deserved the cold. “I’m always alone.” Alone in my feelings.
“You’re not alone now, and there’re registers along the floor. I’ll turn the heat on after we get you out of the shower.”
I didn’t want his help. “I don’t need you.” His son did. “Linc does.”
“He has me. You both do.”
Three words, and they hit like a slap in my drunken face. Lowering my hands, I looked at the most beautiful man I’d ever seen. “You do not get it.”
Grabbing the shampoo with one hand, holding me steady with the other, his arms already soaked, he squeezed some from the bottle right on top of my head. “You got scared. You ran.” He set the bottle back on the shelf and started quickly scrubbing my hair.
“No.” I meant yes, but my head was tipped under the spray, and I had to wait a moment until the shampoo was rinsed out and the bathroom stopped spinning.
I was brought back upright.
Or the floor was.
I tried again. “You’re not listening.” I had to tell him. “He’s your zinc spark.”
Green eyes met mine. “Meaning?”
“Linc. He’s your zinc spark.”
His hand stilled. “Explain.”
My words tumbled, the wine sloshed in my empty stomach, and suddenly I was so nauseous, I wanted to cry.
“Atoms.” Tears fell. “The exact moment life begins.” My head pounded, my heart raced, and I didn’t want to explain, but I already was.
“A burst of zinc atoms is released, creating a flash of light. It can be seen through a microscope. That exact moment.” The sperm, the egg, but so much more than just that.
“Life. When it’s created. The zinc spark.
” The tears fell harder. “Linc is yours.”
The anger bled out of his expression. “Isla.”
“I won’t ever have that.” I couldn’t. “He’s yours, and he’s special. That’s your gift.” He didn’t understand. “I can’t ever give you that.” My chest shook. “I can’t ever be a mom.” I wasn’t even supposed to be here.
All of a sudden, strong arms surrounded me. “Sh, it’s okay. That’s not why we came, Isla.”
“You’re not hearing me.” Oh my God, his hug. “Stop.” Please, don’t ever stop. “You’re getting all wet.” My face was wet. My soul was drowning.
“I am hearing you, but I’m not letting go of you.” Lifting me in his hug, he pulled me out of the shower and wrapped a towel around me.
I had to say the right words. He needed to know why. He deserved that. But suddenly I was standing alone, shivering, and I didn’t want to say them. “Will.”
“Right here, intruse. Getting another towel for your hair.” As soon as he said it, a towel draped over my head, then his hands were moving in a fluid dance he shouldn’t have known.
I grabbed his wrists.
Stark green eyes met mine.
For the first time in my life, I laid myself bare. “I wasn’t supposed to live this long.” I swallowed down fear. “I was diagnosed with leukemia.”