Chapter 12
Chapter
Twelve
August 21 st
7:09 A.M.
His game had to be on point if he wanted to even stand a chance.
Which was why he was going all out for the breakfast he was preparing for Becca.
Connor knew he was lucky Becca had agreed to let him stay. Especially after he’d scared her when she’d spotted his car approaching. If he’d been thinking clearly, he would have stopped at the gate and texted to let her know he was there, but by the time he’d reached the ten-acre plot where Cade’s cabin sat he was so eager to see Becca that he couldn’t focus on anything else.
As bad as he’d felt knowing he’d scared her, there was also relief that he’d managed to make her laugh. The plush penis gift was a stupid one, but after his call to Cassandra, when he’d realized she was right and he had to fight for what he wanted, fight for his girl, instead of waiting for her to tell him he could jump into the game, he knew he couldn’t come empty-handed.
So, he’d grabbed her favorite chocolates and flowers, then dug into a box buried at the back of his closet of things he’d packed up from their shared apartment after he realized Becca wasn't going to come back. One of those things had been a seven-inch penis plushie he’d intended to give her the day she’d gone for her first prosthetic fitting. Unfortunately, he’d been out of her life by then but kept the toy.
Something he was grateful for.
Because seeing Becca laugh like she had when he’d given her the toy reminded him of the woman he used to know. They’d both changed a lot over the years, grown up, matured, and been shaped by everything that had happened, but underneath they were still the same boy and girl who had grown up and known well before they were old enough to understand that they were two halves of the same whole.
Now all he had to do was remind Becca of that.
Prove to her that he could earn back her trust, and hopefully her heart, and get back to what they’d shared when they were young.
If nothing else, he wanted to be her friend again and be there to support her after what they went through in Cambodia. Support her as she worried about her friend and whether Prey would be able to find Isabella before she was lost to the human trafficking network forever.
Step one was coming to the cabin so she wouldn't be alone.
Step two was to get to work on wooing her.
Everything was perfect, the table was set, the flowers he’d brought her that she’d put in a bright ceramic vase sat at the center of the table, and he’d added some candles. Not subtle but he wasn't going for subtle. He’d cooked way more food than two people could eat, but he’d made everything Becca loved. There was fresh fruit salad, pancakes, waffles, scrambled eggs, piles of toast, and oatmeal. Personally, he hated oatmeal, but Becca loved it with cinnamon and a drizzle of honey, so he’d made it for her, and it was sitting in a pot on the stove, steam pouring off it.
All that was missing now was Becca herself.
She always used to start her day with a steamy hot shower regardless of the weather. If she still got up at the same time she should be finishing up, braiding her long black locks, and getting dressed right about now.
Like she’d read his mind, the soft pad of footsteps on the stairs had him wiping his hands on his apron and turning around. Although he’d offered to let her stay in the bigger downstairs bedroom, she’d insisted he could have it and she’d stay upstairs. When Becca came into sight, his heart about beat its way right out of his chest. Denim cut-offs left almost all of her long, toned legs visible, and she wore a loose T-shirt that still managed to hint at the soft curves he knew were hidden underneath. She’d twisted her hair into two braids, and freshly scrubbed from the shower she looked young, sweet, and innocent.
Well, all except for the penis plushie she still held in her hands.
A groan rumbled through his chest at the sight of it, pulling Becca’s attention. All night while they’d watched TV, sitting on separate sofas because he hadn't wanted to push too hard too fast and make her uncomfortable, she’d held the toy in her lap, fiddling with it. There was no way he could watch her nimble fingers stroke along the soft fabric and not feel the echo of that touch in his own penis.
A small smirk tugged at the corners of her mouth, and he wondered if she’d brought the plushie down with her this morning just to taunt him. If she had, he wasn't angry with her about it. If anything, it filled him with hope because the old Becca, the one he’d grown up with, loved to tease him.
Things had always been so simple between them, so natural, they’d just clicked from the moment they were toddlers, and their connection had only grown over time. Even if he could win back Becca’s heart and her love, he would never forgive himself for letting her down.
She’d needed him and he hadn't been there.
Never again.
“Breakfast is served,” he told her, sweeping out his arms to indicate the table and the counters filled with plates of food.
“Is your whole family coming to join us?” Becca asked, a hint of amusement in her tone as she finished coming down the stairs.
“Nope, just the two of us.”
“And do you figure we can eat all of that?”
“Probably unlikely.”
“Then why make so much?” she asked as she reached the kitchen counters.
“Because I wanted you to have anything you felt like. You’ve been through a lot these last few days, and with what happened to Bella, I know you have to be struggling. When we’re stressed, we don’t always take care of ourselves the way we should. I want to make sure that I made you something that will appeal to you even while I'm sure you have a knot of anxiety sitting in your stomach.”
Her dark blue eyes softened, and she gave him a hint of a smile. “It’s hard to do anything knowing what Izzy is likely suffering through right at this moment.”
Taking a step forward, Connor hesitated for a moment before trusting his gut and grasping Becca’s shoulder, squeezing lightly. “I don’t know Isabella as well as you do, but one thing I do remember about her is that she’s a fighter. She won't give up. That means you can't either.”
“I won't,” Becca said softly.
“Part of not giving up means that you keep living. You do everything you're supposed to do, like eat, and sleep, and you do the things that make you happy. That’s what Bella would want you to do.”
“I hate that you're right,” Becca said with a sigh.
“I'm always right,” he teased, reluctantly releasing his hold on her.
“Arrogant much?” Becca huffed, but good-naturedly, and she picked up a plate and piled it up with more food than he would have thought she’d take.
It wasn't until he’d also filled his plate and they’d both taken seats at the table, that her eyes widened, obviously taking in what he was wearing. Her glass of sparkling water paused halfway to her mouth, and when she quickly went to set it down before spilling it, she almost knocked over the glass of apple juice he’d also poured. There was a mug of coffee as well, just so he covered his bases.
“You kept it,” she said, partly in awe, partly amused. “I always hated that apron.”
“You loved it,” he corrected. “You smiled every time I put it on.”
“It has a giant penis on it.” She snorted, genuine joy sparkling in her midnight-blue eyes. “What is it with you and penises?”
He laughed. It felt like the first real laugh he’d given since that fateful night, even though he knew in reality it wasn't. There had been plenty of times he’d laughed over the last twelve years, but he’d never once felt this light.
“After I saw how much you laughed the first time I gave you one, I just wanted to keep recapturing that moment,” he answered honestly.
That softness he’d seen in her earlier was back. “I remember you gave me the first one the morning after we had sex for the first time.”
“Your sixteenth birthday.” Every second of that night was etched into his memory. He’d done everything his teenage self had thought was romantic, wanting their first time to be utterly perfect. And it was. Every moment with Becca had been.
“I don’t think I ever told you this, but my mom found it and asked me if the two of us were having sex,” Becca informed him. “It was highly embarrassing. I tried to lie but?—”
“You're a terrible liar,” he finished for her, laughing at the thought of poor, sweet sixteen-year-old Becca and her mom talking about their sex life.
“Hey,” she exclaimed, tossing the penis plushie at him, hitting him square in the forehead. “It’s your fault. You bought me the silly toy.”
“Silly, maybe, but I bet you still own every single one I bought you over the years.” Connor arched a challenging eyebrow. He was taking a big gamble there because there was a chance she’d tossed them all after they broke up. But he knew Becca, knew how sentimental she was.
The smile fell from her lips, but no frown or sadness was taking its place. Instead, she looked almost thoughtful, like he was making her think of something she hadn't before. “I do. I still have them all,” she acknowledged, making his heart soar.
Hope.
There was still hope for them, and he would cling to that because he couldn’t accept that Becca would never be his again.
August 21 st
11:55 A.M.
Maybe she shouldn’t have told him she’d kept all the penis plushies.
But lying would have felt like playing games and they were both too old, had been through too much, and meant too much to each other for that.
Because Becca knew she was lying to herself if she pretended Connor didn't still mean something to her.
He did.
That had never been the problem.
Never once had she doubted that Connor Charleston loved her. The problem had always been a combination of her lack of trust in him and her anger that he got to have a choice in whether or not he bailed from the mess her life had been back then.
The more time she spent around Connor now, the more she realized what a mistake it had been getting engaged. Not that she hadn't loved Toby because she had. It was just the love she’d had for him didn't even come close to comparable to what she felt for Connor.
With Toby it was more like a comfortable companionship that she’d allowed to go further than she had initially planned because she felt safe around him. Toby had been a bit of a geek. He loved numbers and had become an accountant, he never pressured her to do anything she was uncomfortable with, supported her passion and drive to start her charity and travel the globe, and had been willing to work as the charity’s finance guy. He was sweet and funny, and she knew he loved her, and while she’d loved him back, now she could acknowledge that she hadn't been in love with him.
How could she be when one man already owned every piece of her heart?
Glancing over at where Connor was lying sprawled on the steps, his nose buried in a book he’d found on the bookshelves inside, Becca found her fingers almost compulsively stroking the silly penis plushie she couldn’t seem to put down. Not only had she held onto it while they watched TV last night, but she’d taken it to bed with her as well.
It was a poor comparison to what she really wanted to be touching but it was better than nothing.
Wait.
Did she just think that it was Connor’s penis she wanted to be playing with?
Her cheeks blushed what she was sure was a dark pink and Connor chose that particular moment to set his book down and look over at her.
The blush deepened.
Did he know what she was thinking?
If she went to him and asked if she could take him in her mouth, would he say yes?
Of course, he would.
This was Connor and he had made it clear he wanted her back and was prepared to fight for her. That’s why he’d come out there, to be with her, to watch out for her, take care of her, just like he always did.
One failure didn't have to change what should have been their happy ever after.
It had but it didn't always have to be that way.
Over the last decade, Becca had done a lot of healing, a lot over these last few days as well.
Maybe she was ready to consider what her future looked like and if the man before her was going to be part of it.
“Want to go for a walk?” Connor asked, pushing to his feet. He was all muscle and power and strength as he strode toward her. Dressed in nothing but a pair of shorts and a T-shirt, he looked so handsome that it was hard to focus on what he was saying when she was overpowered by how he made her feel.
Like the center of the world.
That was how Connor had always made her feel.
When they were little kids playing in the neighborhood and when they’d been a couple. He respected her, cared for her, cared about her, and always made her feel like she was the sun that his life revolved around, even though his nickname for her was moonlight.
Had she spent enough time telling him how much that meant to her?
Had she made him feel the same way?
Those last few months they’d been together had been rough, and she’d been a mess, maybe she hadn't communicated how deeply grateful she was that he had been her rock.
“Becca?”
Right.
He’d asked her a question.
“A walk … yeah … that would be nice.”
The bright smile he gave her had an answering smile curling her own lips. How had she gone so many years without seeing that smile? Even on the darkest of days, it had bathed her in light and warmth.
When he held out his hand to help her out of the porch swing, she hesitated for barely a second before reaching out and placing her hand in his. His fingers closed around hers and something settled inside her.
Whatever had happened between them, she couldn’t help but feel this was where she belonged.
Connor tugged her to her feet but didn't release her hand as he helped her down the porch steps, and she found that she didn't want him to let go.
Maybe she needed to see him fight for her, for them. He was the one who had broken what they had, shattered their foundations, and before she could think about rebuilding them, she had to know he was all in. That no matter what life threw at them, he wouldn't bail again. That if he started feeling like it was too much, he’d talk to her rather than screaming, ranting, and then running.
For a while they wandered in silence. The air was warm again today without being too hot, the sky was a bright, vivid blue, and dappled light bathed them as they walked amongst the trees. With the chirping birds and fluttering butterflies, it was like walking through paradise.
Or maybe it was who she was walking with that made the woods feel so special.
“I met him about three years after we broke up,” she said, breaking the spell. As much as she didn't want to have this conversation, she knew it had to be done. They had to clear the air, get everything out in the open, and then go from there.
“The man you were engaged to?” Although Connor’s voice was even, his fingers tightened ever so slightly around hers and she knew he wasn't unaffected by her words.
“His name was Toby. He was a good man, and he was what I needed at that time in my life. He helped ease me out of the protective cocoon I’d locked myself in. He was sweet and shy, he never pushed me, always treated me with respect, and was supportive of what I wanted to do with my life.”
“You loved him?” The thread of jealousy in Connor’s voice was impossible to miss even though his words came out without the heat she knew was bubbling inside him.
“I loved him, but I didn't love him the way I should have to say yes to his proposal,” she added. “It wasn't fair to him. He deserved to be loved the way I loved you.”
Connor froze.
Slowly he turned so he looked down at her.
“Loved or love?” he asked, his voice shaking slightly.
How could he even ask her that?
Was there any doubt?
“Love, Connor. Always love. It was never about not loving you, that’s not why I left. I was angry and I didn't trust you. I don’t know if I overreacted, it’s hard to tell. Now, looking back, I think I should have waited for you to come back and talked it through, but at the time my emotions were too raw, and I did what I felt was best,” she explained.
“Oh, moonlight. I’m not mad at you for doing what you had to do. I messed up. Me. It’s all on me.”
“Toby and I were together for about two years, engaged for about a month when he was killed. Hit by a drunk driver. Died instantly.”
“If he hadn't died, would you have married him?”
Would she?
“I … don’t think so. He was safe because I think deep down, I knew I wasn't really in love with him. Izzy always told me I was settling, picking the easy option so I didn't have to push through my fears of being with men, letting them in, and trusting them. I said yes to the proposal because it seemed like the logical next step, but I think when the wedding became real, and I started thinking of all the things I’d been planning for our wedding since I was ten, I would have realized it was the wrong thing to do.”
A slow smile spread across Connor’s face. “Picked out for our wedding?”
She chuckled. “Don’t pretend like you didn't know I was planning our wedding from before we were even a couple. I used to ask you all the time what you thought about different ideas.”
“I remember.” He reached out and tucked a stray wisp of hair behind her ear. “I just like hearing you say it.”
“You always used to tell me you didn't care one way or the other, that so long as I was happy, you were happy.”
Leaning in, he feathered his lips across hers. “That’s still true, moonlight. Still true.”
Becca was smiling, her lips tingling, her fingers curled around the penis plushie, still wishing it was Connor’s length in her hand, as they started walking again. Spending time together like this, just the two of them, made it feel like old times.
Times that seemed closer within reach than they had this time yesterday.