The Last Letter

Letter #18

Chaos,

I ran into Jeff’s parents at the grocery store about an hour ago. It doesn’t happen often, maybe once or twice a year when they’re up to vacation, but it always slices me to the quick when it happens.

Why is that? After seven years, you’d think I’d be immune to seeing them, but I’m not.

There I was, standing in the drink aisle, staring at every flavor of Gatorade known to man, debating which flavor Maisie might not throw up. She’s been so nauseated lately, but I know she has to stay hydrated because of these new meds and the potential for renal failure. Anyway, I’m thinking sour apple, right? Because at least it’s green, so when she inevitably throws it up, at least I don’t panic that it looks like blood. And when I was pregnant with the twins, sour stuff was the only thing that kept the nausea at bay. So I fill the cart, and when I get to the end of the aisle, there are Jeff’s parents, picking out their turkey for Thanksgiving.

It’s not like I don’t know that it’s Thanksgiving, or that people need turkeys. But I’m standing there, trying to figure out what to buy to keep my daughter alive, and they’re debating the merits of a sixteen-pound over an eighteen-pound turkey.

Just like Jeff, they’ve never seen either of the kids. I wrote them off the minute his dad showed up with a big check, divorce papers, and a request to terminate my pregnancy.

Then, two weeks ago, I swallowed my pride and asked his dad to add Maisie to Jeff’s insurance—since Jeff works for him. He threw me out and told me that the kids were none of their concern. I guess Jeff’s dating a senator’s daughter, which makes my kids a liability. Maisie’s dying, and they’re more concerned with Jeff’s image.

So, yeah. We don’t speak.

But today, for some reason, it hit me harder than usual. Maybe it’s because Maisie’s so sick. Because when I think about Jeff, and the twins’ questions about him that I can’t avoid for much longer, I always think that the kids can seek him out when they’re old enough. That’s on him. And now, I realize Maisie might never get that chance. And though I don’t want anything to do with him, I would never stop them from seeking those answers. But time might stop her.

And yet, I’m not asking her if she wants to meet him. I want all of the time she has. I don’t want to share her with Jeff, and I honestly don’t think he’d bring her anything but heartache.

The first thing I did after I got some of that Gatorade down Maisie was grab a pen and write to you. Because for the life of me, I can’t figure out if that makes me a bad person, a selfish person. And worse, if it does, there’s an overwhelming part of me that just doesn’t care. Isn’t that worse?

~ Ella

…

“Are you ready now?” I asked as Colt raced across the hallway of his mom’s house, into the mudroom. The kid had been practicing for three weeks, and today was finally the Saturday of Memorial Day Weekend—game day.

The twins would graduate kindergarten—whatever the hell that meant—on Monday. Why they needed tiny caps and gowns was beyond me, but they’d sure looked cute for the little photo shoot Ella had done out by the lake.

“Cleats!” he shouted.

“In your bag.” I lifted the small Adidas bag in the air as he skidded to a stop in his socks in front of me.

“You have them?”

“Yep, and your shin guards, and the sunscreen for your noggin. Now, are you ready to play, or what?” We had twenty minutes until we were expected at the field for warm-ups.

“Yes!” He jumped into the air, both hands stretched toward the ceiling.

“Okay, save a little of that energy for the game, okay? We’re playing a team from Montrose, and they’re going to be tough.”

His forehead puckered. “They’re six. Just like me.”

“Yeah, well, you’re tough, too. Now get your play shoes on, and let’s go.”

Colt scurried back to the mudroom, and I went in search of Ella, finding her in the office with Maisie stretched out on the love seat across from her desk, book in hand. “Hey, Maisie. Ella, you ready?”

She looked up from the eternal stack of paperwork on the mahogany expanse and quickly cloaked her panic, forcing a smile. “Yeah, just let me see if Hailey is back yet so she can keep an eye on Maisie.”

“I want to go. Please, Mom? Please?” Maisie begged. She was looking flushed today, the color returning to her cheeks just in time to get hit with another round of chemo next week.

This was one of those moments I was so glad I wasn’t a parent, because I’d give in every time. Every. Time.

Ella’s brow puckered. “I just don’t know, Maisie.”

“I feel great today, and the weather is good, and I’ll even sit in the car. But please? I don’t want to miss his first game.”

“You’d say you felt great even if you didn’t.”

“Please?”

Ella’s eyes locked on mine. “It’s your call,” I said, well aware I didn’t belong in that decision-making equation. “I can tell you that it’s seventy-three degrees, light sun, and I have a shade tent in the car.”

“But all the people…”

“Beckett can scare them off, right?” Maisie used those big blue eyes on me, and I threw up my hands immediately, backing away. Yup, I’d give in every time.

“So not getting involved, here. Ella, you decide, and I’ll just be out there.” Away from the women of the house who were currently glaring each other into submission.

“She can go,” Ella relented.

We got to the field five minutes later than we should have, but I wasn’t going to stress. It was little kid soccer, not the World Cup. I spun Colt on the seat, tying his cleats after I’d secured his shin guards. Then I held up the bottle of sunscreen.

“It’s all goopy.”

“It’s spray. And really, you’re the one who insists on shaving his head.”

“It’s for Maisie!”

“I’m not arguing with your reasoning, little man. But you know what I was told at your age? You’re free to choose, but you’re not free of the consequences of your choice. Shaving your head is awesome. Now, sunscreen.” It was almost four o’clock, but the afternoon sun was just as harsh for bald heads.

He folded his arms across the chest of his maroon uniform but didn’t utter a word as I sprayed him down, careful to get his face with my hands.

“You’re getting good at that,” Ella said as she came around the front of my truck.

“He makes it easy,” I said, and lifted Colt to the ground. “You’re good to go.”

He walked over to Ella, who dropped to her knees, which were bare in her khaki shorts. “Okay, what’s the most important thing about today’s game?”

Colt’s expression turned fierce. “Play my position, show no fear, and tonight we dine on the souls of our enemies!”

Ella leaned sideways and raised an eyebrow at me.

“What?” I shrugged.

She stood and straightened his uniform. “Off you go.”

“And keep your hands off the ball!” I shouted after him. He turned, throwing me a thumbs-up before racing toward his team.

“The souls of his enemies?” Ella questioned, holding back a laugh with her arms folded under her breasts. I didn’t look at the way the move pushed them up toward the scoop neck of her maroon shirt. Nope. Didn’t look.

“What? He’s basically a man.”

“He’s six.”

“Boys were trained as warriors at age seven in ancient Sparta.”

She laughed, the sound utterly intoxicating. “I’ll be sure to keep the Spartans off the invite list for his birthday party.”

“Just to be safe,” I agreed and was rewarded with another laugh.

This is exactly how her life should be, filled with soccer games and sunshine and smiles from both her kids. This was exactly what she deserved. I just wasn’t the person who deserved to give it to her.

Havoc jumped from the bed of the truck and kept me company while I set up the shade tent away from where the other parents were set up. The design let the fresh air in but kept the sun off Maisie while allowing her see the game. “Stay,” I commanded Havoc, and her rump hit the ground at the opening of the tent.

When I got back to the truck, Ella already had her wagon loaded with the folding chairs. Maisie sat perched at the edge of the seat, and that’s when I saw it—exhaustion. Man, she’d hid it well.

“Hey, why don’t you head over and set up Maisie’s seat, and I’ll bring her down,” I suggested to Ella. “That way she’s not in the sun for too long.”

Ella agreed and walked across the grassy expanse to the tent.

“You’re exhausted,” I said to Maisie, turning back to her.

She nodded, dropping her head a little. “I didn’t want to miss it. I miss everything.”

“I get that, but you also have to take care of yourself so you can do even more when you get better.”

Her fingers skimmed over the place under her shirt where her PICC line ran in her arm, protected by a mesh armband. “I know.”

It was the way she said it that made me take her hand. “I see a lot of soccer games in your future. Everything you’re going through right now will one day be this crazy story you get to tell everyone, and it’s going to look great on your college entrance essay, okay?”

“I’m six.” A small smile tilted her lips.

“Why does everyone keep saying that to me today?” I asked. “Now, would you like a ride to the game?”

Her smile erupted in a flash of joy, and I scooped her up, adjusting her long, pink wind pants and matching long-sleeve shirt to cover all of her skin, and then her giant, hot-pink floppy sun hat. “Okay, I’ll make you a deal,” I offered as I strode toward the tent with Maisie in my arms.

“What’s that?”

“I’ll agree not to drop you if you agree to keep your hat from blowing off.”

“Deal!” She giggled, a sound I decided was only outranked on my list of the best sounds ever by her mother’s laugh.

Some of the other team moms and dads called out greetings, and I answered with a smile that I hoped didn’t look forced, knowing I was damn lucky to have a place in Maisie’s and Colt’s lives, no matter how small. That role came with dealing with other parents, and I was working on it. Every practice the small talk got an ounce easier, the smiles a little less fake, and I started to see the other parents as individuals and not just…people.

I settled Maisie into the camping chair Ella had set up, and then propped her feet in a smaller one that served as a footrest. Seeing the small shiver that ran over her, I quickly pulled the blanket from the wagon and laid it over Maisie’s legs.

“You sure you’re okay?”

She nodded. “Just a little cold.”

I tucked the blanket around her, and we settled in to watch the game. Ella started out as one of those quiet moms, more than a little camera happy but reserved in her commentary. By the second half of the game, she was full-on shouting for Colt as he scored a goal.

The transformation was hilarious and sexy as hell.

Or maybe that was the view of those mile-long legs in her shorts. Either way, it took a great deal of my concentration to keep my hands off the soft skin just above her knee. Damn, I wanted her. Wanted every aspect of her—her laughter, her tears, her kids, her body, her heart. I wanted everything.

Lucky for me, my craving for her physically was second only to my need to take care of her, which kept my libido in check.

For the most part.

Yeah, okay, that was a lie. The more time we spent together, the closer I came to kissing her just to see how she tasted. I wanted to kiss her until she forgot everything that weighed her down, until she’d forgive me for the lie I was living.

And the longer I kept my secret, the further away it felt. The more I dreamed of the possibility that she might let me stay in her life as just Beckett.

Not that I wasn’t tempted to tell her who I really was. To tell her how her letters had saved me, that I’d fallen in love with her by her words alone. But then I realized how far I’d dug into her life—picking up groceries, taking Colt to soccer, hanging out with Maisie when she was too sick to go to the main house. The moment I told Ella who I really was, what I’d done, she’d kick me out and be on her own again, and I’d promised to show up for her and the kids. Keeping that promise meant not giving her a reason to throw me out. Telling her was selfish, anyway. It would only hurt her.

Chaos had no chance of helping Ella—of being there for her. Not after what had happened. I’d have to wait until Maisie was in the clear before coming clean to Ella. Then the choice would be hers.

“What is that kid doing? Isn’t that illegal? He can’t trip him like that!” Ella shouted.

“I think it was more of mutual clumsiness, there,” I countered.

“Oh my God, he did it again! Get him, Colt! Don’t you let him do that to you!”

“You know, he’s only six,” I said, sweet as cherry pie.

She slowly turned to me with a glare and an openmouthed scoff. “Whatever.”

I laughed and for the first time realized that I was utterly, completely content with my life. Even if I never got Ella, never tasted her mouth, never touched her skin, never kept her in bed on a rainy Sunday morning or heard her say the three little words I was starved for, this moment was enough.

Glancing back at Maisie in the shade, I saw her eyes closed, and the deep, rhythmic rise and fall of her chest. She was asleep with Havoc curled up under her outstretched legs. If she was already this exhausted, how the hell was she going to withstand another round of chemo next week?

“Oh no…no, no,” Ella muttered, and I turned my attention back to the field.

The other team slipped past Colt, then the defense, and scored to win the game.

Well. Shit.

My heart ached when I saw Colt’s face, the way his shoulders fell. But he shook hands with the opposing team like the sport he was, and then sat on the bench long after the coach finished the post-game pep talk. Seeing some of the other dads cross the field, I looked over at Ella, who looked almost as disappointed as Colt.

“Well, that sucks.” She folded her arms across her chest, her long side braid brushing over her arm as she turned to look at me. “What do I say to him?”

“How about you give me a second with him?”

“Be my guest.” She motioned toward the bench. “I’ll pack everything up.”

I crossed the field with his cleat bag in my hands, then dropped down in front of him to start untying the double knots he swore he couldn’t play without.

“Man, I loved watching you play,” I told him, slipping the first cleat free.

“I let him by. We lost because I messed up.”

I untied the second cleat and then took it off, too. “Nah. You win as a team, and you lose as a team. There’s no shame in that.”

“I didn’t want to lose,” he whispered, like it was a dirty secret.

“No one does, Colt. But I can tell you sometimes the losses are just as important as the wins. The wins feel really good and let us celebrate what we did right. But the losses, they teach us more. They teach us to see where we can improve, and yeah, they feel pretty darn bad, and that’s okay. As you get bigger, you’ll see that it’s not how you handle the wins that make you a good man, it’s how you handle the losses.”

I handed him the shoes he’d brought, and he put them on his feet as he thought, his little forehead puckered in the same lines Ella wore when she was working something out. Then he fastened the Velcro and hopped off the bench. “So it’s okay to lose.”

I nodded. “You have to lose sometimes. It keeps you humble, keeps you working harder. So yeah, it’s okay to lose. Sometimes it’s even good for you.”

He heaved a giant, melodramatic sigh and then nodded. “Will you come with me for a second?”

“Sure,” I answered without thought, following him past our bench to the away team’s, where he found the kid who had scored the final goal.

The kid saw Colt and stood up.

Colt walked straight to him. “I just wanted to say that you’re really fast. Good job today.”

The kid smiled. “You, too. That was an awesome goal!”

They shook hands like tiny men, and Colt grinned as we walked away.

“I’m really proud of you,” I said as we started to cross the field.

“Well, he’s really fast. But you know what? We play them again at the end of the summer, and I’m going to be faster. I can wait that long to kick his butt.”

I wanted to chastise him, but I was too busy trying my damnedest not to laugh. “Gotcha. Then we’ll dine on the souls of our enemies?”

“Bingo.”

He stopped midfield, and I had to backtrack a couple of steps. “Colt, what’s wrong?”

He looked up at me, blocking the sun with a hand, and then glanced around to the other parents walking back to their cars. “Is this what it feels like?” he whispered so quietly that I leaned down.

“What it feels like?” I asked.

“Having a dad?” He tilted his head slightly.

Words fled at the same rate every emotion assaulted me. His question flayed me open, leaving me raw and exposed in a way I’d never felt before.

I crouched to his level and said the only thing that came to mind. “You know, I’m not sure. I never had a dad.”

His eyes widened. “Me, either.”

I’m here now. The words were there, in my head, at the tip of my tongue. But they weren’t mine to say or to offer. Man, it was a slice of hell to fall in love with someone else’s kid when you couldn’t claim the love of his mother—or her mother. I looked across the field to see Ella sitting with Maisie under the shade, running their hands over the grass.

“What do you say we take the girls home?” I asked Colt as I removed my baseball hat and put it on his head to keep the sun off him.

“Good idea. Let’s tend to the women.” He strode toward the girls, and I didn’t hold back the laughter this time. How the kid could have me near tears one second and laughing the next was beyond me.

“We lost,” Colt told Ella as we walked back to the car. I had Maisie in my arms, her head against my chest, while Ella pulled the wagon behind us.

“Oh, man. Have to admit, I’m glad there aren’t any enemy souls for dinner tonight,” she joked, pulling him to her side. “I guess we’ll just have to settle for ordering pizza.”

“Pizza!” both of the kids shouted, then high-fived each other, Colt jumping to reach Maisie.

I got each kid locked into the booster seats I’d purchased for the truck and loaded the wagon and contents into the bed as Ella ordered pizza. Havoc jumped into the back between the kids. Ella had calmed down a ton since the oncologist told her Havoc was completely safe to Maisie as long as her levels weren’t bottomed out.

I drove us back through Telluride as Colt and Maisie debated the merits of cheese versus pepperoni.

“Do they ever have a conversation where they finish a sentence?” I asked Ella.

“Nope. It’s like they have their own language. They just know what the other is thinking before they finish, so they don’t.”

“Creepy, but cool.”

“Exactly.”

How natural it would be to reach over and take her hand, to brush a kiss across her palm. Everything about this felt effortless—right. The same as writing to her had been…not that she’d know about that anytime soon.

I pulled in front of the pizza shop and parked the truck. “A parking spot right up front? Looks like pizza was fated for tonight!” I declared.

The kids lifted their arms in victory, but Maisie’s weren’t quite as high. She was tuckering out again.

Both Ella and I got out of the truck, but I beat her to the sidewalk. “I’ve got it,” I told her.

“You’re not paying for pizza,” she protested.

“But I am.”

“Are not.” She folded her arms across her chest.

“Am, too.”

She stepped forward and stared up at me, all fire and stubbornness. My gaze dropped to her lips, parted and perfect. So kissable.

“I’m paying,” she said, all soft and slow, like she knew I was struggling to keep my damn hands to myself.

“In your dreams.”

Her expression went all soft, and I would have paid a million dollars to know what she’d just thought about. “Fine,” she said. “But only if you agree to have dinner with us.”

“Deal.”

“Are not!”

“Are, too!”

We both turned to see the twins mocking us through their open door, giant grins on their faces.

“Yeah, yeah. Okay. Pipe down, you two, or I’ll put anchovies on yours,” I threatened without a straight face. “Should we grab another pizza?”

“I ordered three,” Ella said with a shrug.

We stood there and smiled at each other like idiots, both knowing she’d planned on me staying for dinner long before our little deal.

Havoc jumped down as I walked toward the store, and I turned around, dropping to scratch her ears. “Protect Maisie and Colt.”

She sprinted away, parking her rump just beneath their open door.

“Ella!” Hailey waved, and I walked into the shop as the two women started chatting near the bed of the truck.

Three pizzas and five minutes later, I walked out of the shop and nearly dropped the boxes.

An older, well-dressed couple, coming from the opposite end of where Hailey stood talking to Ella, had paused. It wasn’t the pause that triggered me, it was the look on their faces. Utter, abject shock as they looked at the twins.

Havoc stood—she’d always been a good judge of character—and I started moving.

The woman stepped forward, as if she didn’t have control over her own actions, and Havoc bared her teeth and began growling.

Ella turned at the growl, and when she sucked in her breath, I had all the info I needed. “No!” she snapped, not at Havoc, but at the couple. She marched straight up beside Havoc, bared teeth and all, and said it again. “No. Go. Now.”

I came up behind the couple, then to the side, sliding the pizzas onto the passenger seat as I walked by to put myself between them and Havoc.

“Don’t come any closer. She’ll go for the jugular if you move one hand toward those kids.” I kept my voice low and even. The minute I got agitated, Havoc got dangerous.

“That dog is a menace,” the man said, sneering up at me.

“Only to people she sees as threats to the twins or Ella. Now, I believe Ella asked you to go.” I walked forward, forcing the couple to retreat, knowing Havoc would follow and give Ella the room to shut the door so the twins wouldn’t be exposed.

When I heard the door slam, I relaxed, and Havoc put her teeth away.

“Who, exactly, are you?” the woman demanded.

“That’s none of your business.”

“Those aren’t your kids,” the man seethed.

“They’re not yours, either,” I said. “But I’m theirs, and that’s all that matters. And I can tell you that if you ever come close to them without Ella’s permission, Havoc will be the least of your concerns.”

When the man started to stare Ella down, I moved into his line of sight, blocking her from the disgust aimed at her.

“Beckett,” Ella called softly, no doubt noticing the small crowd that was witnessing the exchange.

“Have a nice evening,” I told the couple, then turned around and walked back to Ella, putting my hand on the small of her back and urging her into the truck, then shutting the door behind her.

The couple was gone.

I passed Hailey, Havoc at my side.

“Jeff’s parents,” she whispered.

“I figured.”

“There’s tequila in the freezer.” She motioned toward the cab of the truck, where Ella sat in silence, stunned.

“Good to know.”

“Who was that?” Colt asked.

“No one you need to worry about,” Ella answered.

“Havoc was worried,” Maisie countered.

“Havoc is a good judge of character,” Ella muttered. “They were just some people I used to know.”

“They weren’t very nice,” Colt noted.

“Nope. They never have been.”

Ella was quiet as we drove back to Solitude and faked her smile through dinner. Then she got the kids to bed, and I sat on the couch, silently waiting as Havoc snoozed at my feet.

A half hour later, she came down the stairs, having changed into flannel pants and a tank top. Her mouth dropped into a surprised O when she saw me. “I thought you’d left.”

“Nope. Sit.” I patted the couch next to me and looked away from the swells of her breasts that were lifted high along the neckline of her tank top.

She sank into the corner of the couch, bringing her knees up to her chest. “I bet you’re pretty curious about what happened outside the pizza shop.”

“Talk.”

She rested her chin on her folded arms and took a deep breath. “Those were Jeff’s parents.”

“So I assumed.”

Her eyes lifted to mine.

“You’re just like Ryan when you do that, make conclusions about everything around you. People, too.”

“Keeps us alive,” I responded before I thought. My eyes slid shut momentarily at the blunder and the pain that followed. “You know what I mean.”

She nodded. “They’ve never seen the kids before. Never even asked about them.”

I knew most of that. Scratch that. Chaos knew. But I wanted Ella to tell me, Beckett. To trust me as much as she had that faceless pen pal. So instead of lying, or asking her to continue, I simply waited.

“Jeff walked out when I was eight weeks pregnant.” She looked away, her face falling as she stepped into the memory. “He hadn’t wanted to get married, not really. It was all very Meatloaf.”

“What?” I rested my arm on the back of the couch and leaned in. “Like the food?”

“Like the artist. You know, ‘Paradise by the Dashboard Light’?”

“Ah, gotcha. No ring, no sex.”

“Bingo. We’d been together all senior year, and looking back, when I caught him lying about smoking—smoking of all things to lie about!—I should have walked away, but I was lost in that naive love-can-change-him mentality. Anyway, we were leaving for CU in the fall, and it all seemed really romantic. Run away and get married the day after graduation, have our wedding night in a hotel, and spring it on my grandma and his parents the next day.”

“I’m guessing that went over real well.” I hadn’t seen an ounce of mercy in that guy, which never made for a good parent.

“Like a ton of bricks. Grandma cried.” She swallowed and took a moment. “His parents disowned him, and we moved into one of the cabins for the summer, which were more camp-style than the ones you see now. Grandma was disappointed, but that never changed her love or her promise to pay for my college. Jeff was so sad after that first week. Honeymoon was over, I guess you’d say, and now he was stressed about how he was going to pay his tuition, and everything just spiraled. He’d gone from trust-fund baby to broke overnight. Four weeks after our little trip to the courthouse, I realized I was pregnant, and two weeks later, the doctor told me I was having twins.”

I tried to put myself in her position at that age and couldn’t. At eighteen, I’d enlisted in the military and was barely capable of caring for myself, let alone two other humans. “You’re incredibly strong.”

She shook her head. “No, because the minute the doc did that wand ultrasound after the blood tests, I had this moment where I regretted everything. Everything,” she repeated in an instant.

“You were young; I can’t imagine there’s any young woman in your position who wouldn’t panic.”

“I was eighteen and married to a guy who didn’t like to look at me anymore, well, unless I was naked. And even then…sex…” She shrugged. “Well, I guess it served its purpose. I told him the minute I got home, thinking he’d know what to do. He always had the plans, you know?”

“What did he do?”

“He sat there for a moment in shock, and I understood. After all, I felt the same way. Then he…he asked me to abort them.”

My nails dug into the back of the couch, but I didn’t say a word.

“And it was in that instant, when that choice was put on the table, that the shock faded, and I knew I wanted them. That there was nothing I wouldn’t do to protect them. That’s when I realized that I’d loved the person he pretended to be: strong, loyal, caring, protective…and it was all a giant lie. He put on a great act, but he wasn’t some big, strong man who was going to carry me away to college and build this amazing life. He was a scared little boy who couldn’t put anyone else first, and that included me. And there I was, realizing I’d die for the twins, and he wanted me to kill them because they were inconvenient, and so was I. I refused. He threatened. I refused. He was gone the next morning.”

“I’m so sorry you had to go through that.”

She shrugged. “It is what it is, and it taught me to never trust a liar. You lie once, chances are you’ll do it again and again. Anyway, Jeff’s dad showed up a week later with a big, fat check and divorce papers, telling me I could have the first when I proved I was no longer pregnant.”

“Are you kidding me?” I growled. Now I wanted the asshole back in front of me, wanted that scrawny neck wrapped between my hands.

“Nope. So I signed the papers, snatched the check from his hand, and set it on fire right in front of him.”

That’s my girl.

“Nice. Very visual.”

“Yeah, well, I was a little dramatic, and ended up burning that cabin to the ground. Literally. Everything was gone.”

“So don’t leave you alone with a lighter, that’s what you’re saying? No barbecue grill, no s’mores, no fireworks?”

She laughed, lightening the mood, but I still wanted to strangle everyone in that damn family.

“And you stayed in Telluride and raised the kids,” I assumed.

She nodded. “Yep. Jeff never came back. Not once. Patty and Rich bought a place in Denver, but they still come back at holidays, as you saw today. But they’ve never seen the kids. Never asked to, at least, when they’d run into me. Even when I asked them for help with the insurance for Maisie, Rich said that the kids weren’t their problem. I won’t make the mistake of asking for help again.”

“I’m not sure they deserve to see the kids.”

“Me either, but I worry that Maisie might not get the chance if she wants it, you know? I mean, one day, they’ll grow up. They’ll ask deeper questions and seek out their own answers. And Maisie…” She buried her face in her hands.

I slid forward, until the tips of her toes grazed the outside of my thigh. Then I gently took her hands away, almost hoping she was crying, that she’d learned to release that pressure valve at a steadier, easier rate than during Maisie’s surgery.

But there were no tears, just a well of sorrow so deep it would drown an ordinary soul. But Ella was no ordinary soul.

“Maisie will have time to make her choice.” I had no right, but the thought wouldn’t leave, so I voiced it. “Do the kids ask about him? Jeff?”

“Sometimes. They’re curious, of course, and Father’s Day is always a touchy subject, but I’ve been really lucky to have Larry, and the kids have been pretty secluded from other kids out here. This was their first real year at school.”

“What do you tell them?”

“That of course they have a father, because babies have to have a father and a mother. But they don’t have a dad. Because while all men can be fathers, not all of them are qualified to be daddies, and theirs just wasn’t.”

Because your loser dad didn’t want you. He wanted the next fix more than a screaming piece of shit like you. My mother’s words banged around in my head like a ball set loose in a pinball machine.

“You are a terrific mother. I hope to God you’ve heard that often, because you really are.” My thumbs grazed her wrist, just over her pulse.

“I didn’t do anything anyone else wouldn’t have done,” she refuted with a shrug.

“No. Don’t shrug it off. Because I am the product of someone who didn’t do what you did—what you do every single day. Don’t ever doubt that. Also, if I ever meet Jeff, I’m going to knock him out.”

She gifted me with a small smile. “Don’t do that. He’s a lawyer in Denver now. He’d probably sue you for breaking his precious nose. You ever want to hurt Jeff, you have to hit something he cares about—his pocketbook. And honestly, we’re better for him leaving. Life with him would have been miserable, and I wouldn’t want the kids learning from that kind of father, especially Colt.”

“I get that.”

Her gaze flickered to my mouth and away.

She’s not thinking about kissing you, I lied to myself. Because if I admitted the truth, I’d have her under me in three seconds flat. My hands would be in her hair, my tongue in her mouth, her gasps in my ear.

Silence stretched between us, screaming with the countless possibilities of what could happen next.

Slowly, I let go of her wrists and moved back to my side of the couch. “I should probably get going. It’s late.”

“It’s nine.”

“Help me out here, Ella.” And now my voice sounded like sandpaper. Awesome.

“Help you out of what?” she asked, shifting her position so her legs were under her.

“You know what. Don’t make me say it.” The minute I said it, we were both screwed, and not in the physical sense. Well, okay, that, too.

“Maybe…maybe I want you to say it,” she finished in a strangled whisper.

“I can’t.” Not yet. Not while I’m a walking, talking lie. If she looked at my lap, I definitely wouldn’t need words. I’d gone rock hard the minute she’d looked at my mouth.

“Oh. I get it.” She sat back on her butt, and alarm bells sounded in my head.

“Get what?”

“Like I’m going to say it?” She laughed in self-deprecation.

“Ella.” It was a plea to speak, to not speak. Hell, I didn’t know anymore.

“You don’t see me like that. I totally get it.” She reached for the TV remote.

“How exactly do I see you? Please, enlighten me.” I leaned forward, stealing the remote. She’d opened this box and had better well dish it.

She huffed in annoyance. “You see me as a mom. As Colt and Maisie’s mom. And of course you do, because that’s what I am. A mom with two kids.”

“Well, yeah,” I said. Her motherhood—that selfless devotion she had to her kids—was one of her most attractive attributes.

She rolled her eyes with a little sigh, and the metaphorical light bulb went off in my head.

“You don’t think I want you.”

She shot me a look that confirmed my guess and blushed the same crimson of her couch. “You know, you’re right. It’s late.” She faked a yawn. “Suuuuuuper late.”

“I want you.” Damn, it felt so good to say the words.

“Yeah, okay.” She gave me a goofy look and a thumbs-up. “Please don’t make me feel any more idiotic than I do right now.”

Yeah, enough of this bullshit.

I pounced in one smooth motion, taking her back to the couch, sliding over her as I gathered her wrists in one hand above her head and settled between her open thighs.

Home.

“Holy shit, you move fast.” There was no fear or rejection in her eyes, just surprise.

“Not in every arena,” I promised.

Her lips parted.

“Ella. I want you.”

“Beckett…you don’t have to.”

Yeah, that soft little sigh she did was going to be my undoing.

I let go of her wrists, letting my fingers trail down her arm until I had one hand weaving my fingers into the hair at the base of her scalp and the other at the curve in her waist.

“Feel this?” Then I slid forward, letting my dick stroke along the seam in her pajama pants hard enough for her to gasp at the contact. I couldn’t remember ever wanting to shred a piece of fabric so much in my life. “I’ve never wanted a woman as much as I want you.”

I moved again, and her eyes slid shut as she let loose the sweetest moan.

My dick throbbed, knowing everything I’d fantasized about for the better part of the last eight months was one decision away.

“Beckett.” Her hands found my biceps, her nails digging in.

“Don’t ever think that I don’t want you, because if things were different, I would have already been inside you. I would know exactly how you feel, and what you sound like, look like, when you come. I’ve thought about it at least a hundred different ways, and believe me, I’ve got a great imagination.”

She rocked her hips against me, and I locked my jaw to keep from giving her exactly what her body was asking for. “Ella, you have to stop.”

“Why?” she asked, her lips dangerously close to mine. “What do you mean if things were different?” Her eyes flew wide. “Is this because I have kids?”

“What? No. Of course not. It’s because you’re Ryan’s little sister.” Before I could do any more damage, I got the hell off her and sat back on my side of the couch.

“Because…I’m Ryan’s little sister,” she repeated, scooting so she sat upright, facing me. “And you think he’d, what? Haunt you?”

Three things: The letter. The cancer. The lie.

I repeated those in my head until I was certain I could look at her and not drag her back under me.

“Beckett?”

“When I was growing up, if I wanted something, I took it. Immediately. I had sex at fourteen with a girl in my foster home of the moment. I opened Christmas presents early if I was lucky enough to get one, and it was usually from my social worker or some charity.”

“I don’t understand.” She wrapped her arms around her knees again.

“I took it immediately because I knew if I didn’t, chances were I wouldn’t get it. It was a now-or-never kind of thing—there weren’t second chances.”

“Okay.”

“I can’t touch you, can’t talk about it, because I’m afraid I’ll act on it.”

“And why does that matter if I want you to?”

“Because I won’t get a second chance. And I’m crap with people, with relationships. I’ve never had one that lasted more than a month. Never loved a woman I’ve slept with. And chances are I’d do something to screw this up, because it’s not just my dick that wants you, Ella.”

That O popped right back onto her face, and I closed my eyes to keep from lunging across the distance and kissing her. Knowing she’d let me—that she wanted it—sent my need from a bullet to a nuclear missile.

“And when I’d screw it up, because it would happen, trust me, it would hurt Colt and Maisie, too. You’d be on your own again, because there’s no chance you’d let me hang around and help you out like Ryan asked.”

“And there it is.”

“There it is. You’re Ryan’s little sister.”

“There were only five years between us. Not so little, you know.” She reached for the remote.

“I’m well aware.”

“So if Ryan were still alive…” She shot one last look at me.

I let everything slip for a millisecond, letting her see it all in my eyes, how badly I wanted her, and not just for her body. “Everything would be different.”

“Everything?”

“Everything but the way I feel about you, which he probably would have killed me for. Where does that leave us?”

“You mean besides me being a dried-up spinster and you being honor bound to a ghost?”

“Something like that.”

She rolled her head along the back of the couch, muttering something that sounded like a curse word under her breath. Then she sat up straight and powered on the TV with a click of her thumb. “That leaves us choosing a movie on demand. Because I’m not letting you walk out that door right now.”

“You’re not?”

“Nope. You walk out now, you might get all weird about this and not come back. Honor is a fabulous thing, but sometimes pride can be a lot stronger, especially when you convince yourself it’s for the good of the other person.”

Damn, the woman knew me.

“So movie it is,” I agreed. “Just…stay on your side of the couch.”

“I wasn’t the one who crossed the center line,” she teased with a smile that got me hard all over again.

Movie chosen, we sat and watched, both of us stealing sideways glances. There was that saying…the horse out of the barn. Yeah, the horse was out of the barn, and it wasn’t going back in. Not no way. Not no how.

That horse was running amok and screwing with my carefully constructed control.

But I didn’t complain when she moved over. Or when she pressed against my side. Nope. I lifted my arm and savored the feel of her curves, her trust. Still didn’t complain when she lay down in my arms. Hell no, I held on and memorized every second.

I woke with a start at the door opening, reaching for a pistol that wasn’t there. But Havoc was and, since her tail was wagging in a slow thump against the hardwood, I knew it had to be Hailey.

Yep. She tiptoed in, then saw us on the couch, stretched out in the spoon position, and gave me a grin before slipping into the guest room.

I put my head back down, breathing in the citrus scent of Ella’s hair, and tightened my arm at her waist so she didn’t fall off the couch. I would have slept balanced on a two-by-four if it meant I got to hold her.

Before I could fall asleep, I heard footsteps again, but this time they were coming from upstairs. Colt’s face appeared right above me, and panic in his eyes told me he didn’t care that I was wrapped around his mother.

“What’s up, bud?”

“Something’s wrong with Maisie. She’s on fire.”