Page 90 of The Reborn


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“Watch me.” I hung up on her, and it felt entirely too good.

I lifted a brow in question, but he just shook his head like he couldn’t believe I’d just done that, so I hit the buttons to block her number, then handed his phone back with a flourish. “You should’ve done that a long time—”

He flung the phone to the couch and swung me up into his arms, his mouth colliding with mine as he captured my words in a possessive kiss, making me gasp and clutch at his shoulders as I melted into him.

“You’re insane,” he said between kisses, his smile against my lips.

“Maybe about you.” I smiled as I drew back. “Seriously, though, was that too much?”

“I think it was kind of sexy.”

“Sexy?”

“Very.” He nipped at my throat. “So, you’ll take care of me in every way, huh?”

“You are such a man.”

“You have no idea.”

“Well, I’m beginning to.” I pressed one more kiss to his jaw, then drew back with a grin before sauntering off to go check on my boiling water.

Silently, he followed and without asking, helped me chop up a salad and set the table while I finished our pasta, then we sat down to eat.

Before I could pick up my fork, he reached over and covered my hand with his. “I didn’t expect this, Olivia.” His eyes begged me to understand something he seemed to be having difficulty saying.

“Expect what?”

Those icy eyes of his dipped down as if whatever he was feeling was too heavy to bear. I slipped my hand out from under his so mine was on top and squeezed, making him look up. “You want someone who cherishes you, but that word pales in comparison to how I feel. I would give you my breath... I would literally take a bullet for you, and not because it’s my job. I’d do... anything, and I know that makes zero sense, and that scares the hell out of me.”

“Why?” I whispered, my heart pounding so hard I could feel it in my throat.

“Because it’s not about the damn paycheck anymore. It’s just... you.”

Tears flooded my eyes, and I began to shake, not sure how to process all of this. He was saying all the right things and it felt so perfect, yet there was still a part of me that was afraid to trust it one hundred percent. I’d had a man say the right things before, then throw me away like trash. Could I trust him? Could I trust myself? For Elizabeth’s sake I had to be sure. Still, he had laid out too much for me not to give him something in return.

“I know,” I said. “I feel it too, and I’m just as scared as you are. Probably more.”

“Because of Elizabeth.”

I nodded, somehow not surprised at his perception. I twisted my hand so our fingers interlocked, needing him to open up. “Do you want to talk about what happened with Tricia?”

His eyes shot up to mine. “Which part?”

“Any of it.” I squeezed his fingers. “Maybe the part where she hurt you by getting pregnant by your friend, then leaving you after you gave up everything for her.”

“I’m not sure there’s anything more to say at this point.”

But his gruff voice gave him away. There was still pain there. “Did she come clean about the baby not being yours right away?”

He nodded. “She kind of had to. The dates didn’t add up and it was obvious I couldn’t be the father.”

Something in his expression was breaking my heart, though I could tell he was trying so hard to pretend it didn’t bother him anymore. “Wow. That’s... I don’t even have the words. Did you want kids?”

He paused for a long moment, making me wonder if he was going to answer. Eventually, he nodded. “More than anything.” Then his head fell, and he pinched the bridge of his nose. “I think that’s what actually hurt the worst... having his baby instead of mine. It felt like she ripped that away from me.” His words became choked on tears.

“Oh, honey...” I jumped up and collected him into a hug, his face in my chest as he wrapped his arms around my waist and sought whatever comfort he needed from me. I forked my fingers through his hair and kissed the top of his head, murmuring how sorry I was over and over as he mumbled into my shirt about a miscarriage and how hard he’d tried to be a good husband and all he’d wanted was a family. He was literally breaking my heart and I could do nothing but hold him and try to soak up some of the pain that he did nothing to deserve.

As he quieted, I kept going back in my mind to the little bit he’d told me about his family. His sister had died when she was sixteen and he wasn’t close to his parents. I knew from my own experience how a loss like that can devastate everyone it touches, even extended family members. I couldn’t help but wonder if he had dreams of creating something for himself because he’d missed out on it.

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