Chapter 59
CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE
Maren
“I know about the baby, Maren.”
I absorb each of Keats’s words one-by-one. I don’t look at him. I hold onto the burst of pain that always courses through me when I think about the son I never got to see alive.
Taking a deep breath, I let go and reach for Keats’s hand.
He’s sitting next to me on the bed. He shed the hoodie he was wearing and his shoes and socks. He’s dressed only in jeans now.
His hair is a mess, and I can see something in his eyes I’ve never noticed before.
Peace, maybe. Or perhaps it’s hope.
I feel it too.
“I was going to name him Timmy after my dad.”
That was the plan. I hadn’t told my dad that before I miscarried. I’ve never mentioned it since.
We don’t discuss that loss.
“That’s a beautiful name.” Keats reaches for my hand. “I’m sorry about my text. It was thoughtless. I should have called you that night.”
I wrap my fingers around his. “You were upset about losing Fletcher as a client.”
Lifting my hand to his lips, he kisses my palm. “I was seething with jealousy because I saw you hugging a man in a diner.”
I exhale a breath slowly. “That was Royce.”
His eyes lock on mine. “I didn’t know that. All I saw was the woman I love more than anything wrapped in another man’s arms.”
“You thought I was…”
“Cheating?” he finishes my thought. “I thought he was a better man than I am. I was scared that I was losing you.”
“I don’t cheat,” I say clearly. “I wouldn’t do that to you. I’ve never done that to anyone.”
Leaning closer, he kisses my cheek. “I should have known that. I let my past dictate my actions. I was rude to you. It was wrong.”
I try to piece together everything he’s saying.
“So, you saw me with Royce, and then you found out that Fletcher chose Finn over you?”
“Us,” he corrects me.
I smile softly. “Us. Do you know why he chose Finn?”
His gaze drops. “It doesn’t matter at this point.”
It matters to me, so I tell him that. “Tell me.”
He gathers both my hands into his lap, holding them firmly in his grasp. “Some friend of Patrika’s overheard you talking while you were having a coffee at a café in midtown. You were discussing the fact that the Newmans assumed we were dating, and that got back to Patrika pretty fast.”
“Shit.” I close my eyes. “I blew it.”
Keats lets out a loud chuckle. “You didn’t blow it. It happened. It’s over.”
“You wanted him for a client, Keats.”
“I want you, Maren,” he counters. “Fletcher was work. This right here is life.”
“You’re not upset?”
“About losing Fletcher?”
I nod.
“Hell, no.” He shakes his head. “Finn will do right by him. He’s in good hands.”
I move his hands to the center of my chest and hold them there with mine. “I’m in the best hands.”
He darts up to his knees. “Damn right, you are.”
My gaze falls to the waistband of his jeans and beyond to the outline of his erection beneath the denim. “That’ll cost you.”
“Name your price.” He slides his hands to my shoulders. “I’m not talking money, Maren. Tell me what I owe you.”
“Show me how much you love me, Keats.”
The chill in the air races over my skin, tempering the heat that is blooming there as I near my second orgasm of the night.
I drag my hands through Keats’s hair, reveling in how soft the strands are and how rough the scruff on his jaw is as it scrapes against my inner thighs.
I arch my back off the bed when he hones in on my clit with the tip of his tongue.
“Coming,” I whisper. “I’m so close to coming.”
He hums his approval sending a vibration through my core that lures a deep moan from somewhere inside of me.
“You like that,” he whispers.
“So much.” I groan.
He applies more pressure. His head moves as he eats me ravenously.
I let go. I close my eyes, and I come with a soul-wrenching cry that brings tears of pure joy to my eyes.
Keats slows his movements. He licks my cleft with long, leisurely strokes of his tongue.
When he looks at me, I see tears in his eyes too.
“I love you, Maren,” he whispers as he crawls up my body.
“I love you,” I say breathlessly. “I want you.”
He rests his forehead against mine. “No condom. I didn’t think about bringing any. I just wanted to get to you.”
“I’m clean,” I offer.
His eyes search mine. “I’m clean too. You’re sure you want that?”
The thought of him sliding inside me bare sends a jolt of desire through me. “I want it so much.”
He slowly spreads my legs and climbs between them.
With a glance over my body, he lowers his lips to the center of my chest. “You are my life.”
I hold my breath as he slides his cock into my channel in one painfully slow movement.
“You are my everything,” I whisper. “You will always be.”