Chapter Thirty-Five
brEANNA
I’M EXHAUSTED, but my mind won’t shut up. The events of the evening are spinning in my head.
I’ve loved you all my life.
Pushing the covers off me, I pull my socks onto my feet and open my bedroom door. Until I left for college, if something was bothering me, Marley would make me a cup of hot cocoa, and we would sit in the kitchen. She always let me decide whether I wanted to talk about it or not.
Tiptoeing down the hall, I barely tap on Marley and Jax’s bedroom door; I don’t want to wake the twins. They’re building a house on the property behind Marley’s stables, and until it’s done in the spring, the girls sleep in their room.
It only takes seconds for the door to open to a tall, very buff former DEVGRU Team guy standing in the doorway, and he looks like he’s ready for bear. I lift my eyebrows as he assesses the non-threat in front of him, and his shoulders loosen as he lets go of the doorknob.
Marley steps up behind him to peek around his shoulder as she pulls her robe around her belly, concern on her face. “What’s wrong?”
“I need cocoa.” That’s all I need to say, the unspoken request for comfort and company, and she steps around Jax so we can walk to the kitchen together.
The steaming mug Marley sets in front of me has a cat in a robe, holding a coffee cup, with its hair standing up all around its head.
Under the picture, it says, ‘Fuck off until I’ve had my coffee’.
It was Kinley’s cup she used before she moved out and married Rhys, and I wonder if she remembers it’s here.
Marley sits on the wooden bench on the other side of the table; her fingers wrapped around her mug. “You want to talk about it?”
Staring at my mug as I twist it by the handle on the table, I sigh. “Mato.”
She gently blows across the top of her cocoa. “Yeah? Jax told me what he said tonight.”
I lift my eyes to meet hers. We have the same color eyes as Dad, Mason too. Gray, Kinley, and Tucker got Mom’s hazel eyes. “I don’t know what to do.”
Titling the cup, she takes a sip before responding. “Do you love him?”
I almost say no, but as my mouth starts to form the word, I know I’d be lying. “I’ve always loved him, but I don’t trust him.”
The mug softly taps the wooden table as she sets it down. “Okay. Let’s walk through it step by step. Why don’t you trust him?”
I stare at her for several moments, second-guessing my decision to ask her for company because I don’t want to talk about that. “Because he left me when I needed him most.”
Her head tilts and she winces before she says it. “But he didn’t know, honey.”
“He would have if he’d been here.”
She’s silent for a moment, collecting her thoughts before she takes a breath.
“You have to know how upset Dad would have been if you’d told him you weren’t going to college because you wanted to stay here with a boy.
” I start to respond, but she holds up her hand.
“A boy who, at the time, had no aspirations, no skills, no way to take care of you. You have to know what that would have done to Dad and Mato’s relationship. ”
Her words hit me in the chest as if she shoved me herself. Not once in ten years did I consider what would have happened if Dad blamed my not going to college on Mato. I’ve only ever looked at it in the simple terms of a young girl in love. Hot shame and guilt flush my chest and move up my neck.
I drop my eyes on my cooling cocoa. “I feel so stupid.”
“Don’t feel stupid, honey. Sometimes it’s hard to see the forest through the clouds of hurt.”
Loudly swallowing around the lump in my throat, I look back up at her. “I’ve been so mean to him.”
She slides her hand across the table and squeezes mine. “Don’t forget that I lived on this ranch with Mato for almost twenty years. I watched him grow up, and if I know him as well as I think I do, he understands.”
“He’s been trying, and I’ve been stomping on every olive branch he tries to give me.”
“And he keeps leaving the ball in your court. It’s up to you from here. He’s bought his gym and is planning his business. He’s not going anywhere.” She squeezes my hand again. “He could have done that anywhere, but he came back here.”
Tears fill my eyes as regret blends with my guilt. “I feel like a horrible person.”
She shakes her head, her blond bed hair moving on her shoulders. “A horrible person would never admit to such a thing. You’re a beautiful, stubborn woman with feelings that sometimes get too big.” She smirks. “Like I said, you remind me more of Gray and Dad every day.”
I roll my eyes. “I beg to differ; I’m not cranky like them.”
She sits back and lifts her mug, eyebrows cocked, murmuring into her cup. “Forest for the trees...”
That makes me laugh, and we sit in silence for several minutes, sipping cocoa. I glance at the clock on the microwave, just after midnight. Setting my cup down, I take a deep breath. “I need to go talk to him.”
Marley smiles and slides her hand over her stomach. “Don’t let me stop you. I have to go back to bed and feel this little guy kick me all night from my cocoa sugar rush.”
We both stand up from the table at the same time, and I immediately pull her into a hug. “I love you, Marley.”
“I love you too, honey.”
The hallways to the bedrooms are illuminated by soft nightlights plugged into the walls every five or six feet.
Once upon a time, they were for Lainey Rai when she was little because for years, after her mom died, she was afraid of the dark, but now they are here for any one of the many kids in this house.
Things have changed so much in such a short time.
As I’m standing outside Mato’s door, I look down at what I’m wearing. My trusty OSU sweatshirt, a pair of worn sleep shorts with Pistol Pete on them I’ve been wearing since my dorm days, and my fuzzy socks that look like they’ve seen better days.
At least I’m not covered in mud.
Before I can talk myself out of it, I tap lightly on his door.
Feet thump on the floor, and less than a minute later, I suck in a breath and freeze when he opens the door.
He’s in a black pair of thin workout pants with USMC on the front, hanging low on his hips, and nothing else.
My eyes slide over the tight six-pack between the cut V that disappears into the waistband of said pants.
Chiseled definition is the only way to describe the ribs of muscle that stop below the sculpted pecs across his broad chest. The slopes on top of his wide shoulders curve into the bulges that are his upper arms. Heat floods my lower belly, and I clench my thighs together.
Holy shit.
Shaking my head, I flick my eyes up to his, expecting him to be smirking because I’m obviously checking him out, but I see the same amount of heat swirling in his eyes that’s swirling in my core. I clear my throat and remind myself why I’m here.
“Uhm.” But that’s all I get out.
“Are you okay?” His voice is husky.
Turning my head, I lower my eyes to focus on one of the nightlights in the wall next to me and wonder if it was a bad idea to come to his room in the middle of the night. I probably should have waited until tomorrow to talk to him. I didn’t expect to have this kind of reaction to him.
“Hey.” The huskiness in his voice is gone, and he sounds concerned.
Slightly embarrassed, I look up at him. His eyes volley between mine, patiently waiting to see what I want to say.
“I, uh, I wanted to tell you I’m sorry, but I didn’t consider, well, I did consider the lateness, but I didn’t think you’d be so...
naked.” I stop and take a breath; my head is hot enough to warm a room.
“What I’m trying to say is maybe I should have waited until tomorrow. I shouldn’t have woken you.”
Bending toward me, he grasps my wrist and pulls me into his room, closing the door behind me. The bedside lamp is already on, casting a warm glow over the room that smells like him.
There’s only about a foot of space between us, but he lets go of my wrist, his dark eyes move over my face trying to get a read on me.
“You can wake me anytime; I don’t care what time it is.
” His voice lowers, and he slides his fingers across my cheek to push my hair behind my ear. “Why are you sorry?”
Tipping my head, I hold eye contact. “For my behavior.”
The way he is looking at me, and the heat from his bare skin is wrapping me in a perfect smelling bubble of Mato, caressing all my senses, reminding me of what we once were. The emotions I’ve kept stuffed deep in a box for so long are rushing from that box like a crashing wave.
My nose burns, and I suck in a small breath, but I’m so overwhelmed that all that comes out is, “Because of all the clouds.”
His eyebrows twitch in confusion, and I clear my throat. “I mean, you know, not being able to see the forest through all the clouds, I mean, trees.”
He nods, his eyes soft. “I know what you mean.”
Pressing my lips together, I try to focus on what I want to say, but it’s hard because I feel so off-kilter. “I don’t want to be mad at you anymore. Maybe it’s not so much anger as it is hurt,” my eyes fill with tears at the confession, to him and myself, “but it’s going to take time.”
He cups my cheek with the hand he just used to push my hair behind my ear. “I know.”
“I’m also…” I stop, the words get stuck. Clearing my throat, I try again. “I’m also glad you’re here.”
He’s quiet, letting me have time and space to say what I want, like he always did, patiently. It was one of the things I resented after he was gone, I felt like the patience I always thought would be there ran out.
But he’s here now, and he’s trying to make it up to me.
Lifting my hand, I set my palm on his chest over his heart. It’s beating fast.
A tear slides down my cheek. “Please don’t leave again.” The words are broken with a hiccup, but I get it out.
He covers my hand with his wide palm, it’s warm and steady, his eyes locked on mine. “Never.”
Wrapping his fingers around my neck, he pulls my head and fastens his lips to my forehead, and says it again, the word muffled against my skin. “Never.”
Letting go of my hand on his chest, he wraps his arm around me, pulling me flush against him, his other hand threads through my messy curls to cup the back of my head. He presses his lips to the top of my head and says it again. “Never.”
It’s like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders. The anger and hurt I’ve been carrying so long gets lighter, and I take a deep, shaky breath as I wind my arms around his ribs. With my cheek pressed against his chest, I hear his heart beating.
“Nudo?”
His old pet name for me makes me smile. “Yeah?”
“I know I’m pushing it, but I want to kiss you right now. Please let me kiss you.”
A thrill behind my diaphragm pushes out in every direction, sending numbing tingles to my fingers and toes. It almost feels like the first time he kissed me. I knew he was going to, but the excitement and anticipation were the same.
Leaning away from him, my arms still around his ribs, I look up at him, my eyes dropping to his lips and back up. I nod.
He moves slowly, cupping my face between his palms. His dark eyes move over my face as if it’s the first time he’s ever seen me, like he’s committing everything to memory. When his lips touch mine, it’s like going back to something that was always mine. Like going home.
It’s soft and slow, his tongue slides across my lip and I open to let him in. So many feelings rush through me as his tongue glides against mine, his lips possessing me in his own gentle, steady way.
My core burns like a fire has been set under me, and I feel the heat of my desire rush to my panties. I also feel his desire pressing against my stomach, hard and needy.
One hand lets go of my cheek and his arm twines around me, his hand splayed across my lower back, pressing me against the growing bulge in his pants. Our kiss becomes demanding, our breaths coming faster.
And he pulls away.
The kiss is broken, and he sets his forehead against mine, our breaths blending together between us, tickling my chin.
“I want you so fucking bad right now.”
I want him, too, but I don’t say it. I don’t say anything for fear of doing something I might regret.
He slides his hand up my back, under my sweatshirt, the calluses on his palm scratching my skin. “But I want you to be sure, I don’t want any hurt or anger or resentment between us.”
I nod. He’s right, I do still feel those things, and throwing sex into the mix will only trigger my insecurities and make things harder. “Okay.”
He smiles. “But next time you’re up late drinking hot cocoa, feel free to visit me.”
My eyebrows twitch and one side of my mouth tips up.
His smile grows bigger. “You taste like sweet cocoa, just like before. Cocoa always reminded me of you.”
My heart squeezes in my chest, and I smile fully. “Good night, Mato.”
He pecks my lips one more time. “Good night, Nudo.”