[English] BEAUTY FROM LOVE

Beauty from Love
Page 10



“Thanks.” I take it from her and ease it down the front of my trousers. “Isn’t my girl the prepared one?”

“Looks like I’d better be in case I need to do that again.”

I can’t lie and say it won’t happen again, not with the way she makes me want her.

After we’re back at the house, she has me wait in the bedroom while she gets into character. She’s playful and it’s only one of the many things I love about L.

I’m lighting the last candle in the room when she calls out through the cracked bathroom door, “Close your eyes.”

She likes to do this—have me shut my eyes while she gets in place. It’s all about staging for her. “Yes, ma’am.”

I’m sitting on the edge of the bed and hear the sound of a ukulele begin. It takes several seconds before I recognize the familiar tune of “Somewhere Over the Rainbow” coming from her phone.

“Okay. You can look.”

I open my eyes and L is completely decked out in hula gear, feathers and all. Her top is a yellow bikini and it’s lovely against her freshly sun-kissed skin. Her skirt and headpiece are red, yellow, and black. Her long dark hair cascades over both shoulders and she’s the most beautiful hula girl I’ve ever seen. I imagined something similar but the reality is so much better.

She’s mimicking the dance she was taught at the luau, and the raging ***ual urgency I expected isn’t there. This type of dance leaves me feeling much different than when she pole dances for me. There’s something surreal, and so very sweet, about the slow sway of her arms and hips to this particular ren***ion of the song. She looks so pure and deserving of much more than what I promised her I would do when I got her home tonight.

“This is the only Hawaiian song I had in my music library.” She doesn’t miss a beat in her rhythmic dance as she talks.

“Baby, it’s perfect.” And it truly is. It does something to me I can’t explain.

“Each move has so much depth, every dance its own story.” She makes coordinating flowing motions with her arms. “One of the girls backstage told me this is symbolic of a tree swaying in the breeze. It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

She has no idea. “It certainly is.” No woman has ever made it look so lovely.

She dances another minute and then shrugs. “That’s it. I got nothing else. I wish I had more of a show for you.”

I put my arms out for her. “Come here.”

She walks to me and I wrap my arms around her waist to pull her close. I put the side of my face just below her chest and she cradles my head with her arms. I feel so much more for this woman than I ever thought possible. My love for her makes me ache deep in my chest. I never want to find out what it would feel like to lose her. “I love you so much, L. I don’t ever want to know the pain of not having you in my life.”

She leans back and tilts my face upward. “I love you and I’m not going anywhere. I’m here as long as you want me to stay.”

I feel like I’ll smother if I don’t have her. “Swear you’ll never leave me.”

She smiles and it feels like a rush of breath expanding my lungs in a moment of suffocation. “I will never leave you.”

“We’ve had a change of plans for christening our bed.” I reach for her phone and pass it to her. “Put that song on repeat and forget what I said earlier. I just want to make love to you—as slowly as you’ll let me.”

She smiles as she thumbs the phone’s screen. “I’m glad you like the song. I wasn’t sure about it.” She puts her phone aside and slides her hands over my shoulders.

“I love it.” It makes me feel good about us. “Dance with me.”

We sway in the middle of our bedroom. I’m in a completely different mindset than earlier. I know L likes my filthy mouth occasionally, but I use it far too frequently. I’m too much of a ****man with her at times. I should touch her gently and speak sweetly to her more often. She’s a treasure—my precious one—and I’d be wise to always treat her as such.

The song comes to an end before beginning again but I’m done with dancing. I take L’s hands in mine and lead her toward the bed. We stop when the backs of my legs hit the mattress and she unbuttons my white linen shirt before pushing it from my shoulders to the floor.

I take the floral wreath from her head and place it on the nightstand before I smooth her stray hairs. I twirl a lock of her long hair around my finger and marvel at how soft it is. “You are so beautiful.”

She blushes and drops her face. It’s still surprising to me how she can be so strong—even seek a career in the spotlight—yet she doesn’t know how to take compliments. I’m certain it’s because she never heard them while growing up. Or from that fool, Blake.

I place my hand under her chin and lift her face. “You better get used to hearing compliments because I plan on telling you often how gorgeous and loved you are.”

5

My eyes are closed and I’m listening to the sound of the waves. I’ve only been awake for a few minutes but the resonance is hypnotic so I’m drifting back into slumber when the bed shifts. My eyes pop open when the bed sheet slides down my body and I feel Jack Henry’s kisses against the bare skin of my lower back. “Are you awake?”

“I am now.”

He runs his hand over the valley where my spine curves inward. “Have I ever told you how much I love this dip?”

Is he kidding? Only like a bazillion times. “I believe you may have a time or two.”

His wet tongue glides upward and I bow reflexively, sending my bottom up from the bed, hitting him against his chest. My hair prickles as goosebumps spread from the top of my head to the tips of my toes. No matter how many times he does this, my body reacts the same. “Good grief. You’d think I’d become immune to that at some point.”

His palm slides up my thigh to my cheek and he rubs it in a circular motion. “Please don’t because I’ll never tire of seeing your body arch like that.”

I relax beneath his touch and his talented hands knead the muscles of my back as they make their way to my shoulders. I haven’t said anything but my body is rebelling after our frolic against the pole yesterday. A massage is very welcomed. “Mmm … you can stop doing that sometime next week.”

His fingers knead in circles and, again, my body erupts into chills. “So you like that, huh?”

Beauty from Love
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“Mmm-hmm … just a little bit.”

“A massage is the least I can do since it’s my fault you’re sore.”

I lift my head from the pillow and peer over my shoulder at him. “I didn’t say I was sore.”

“You didn’t but your body speaks to me in other ways.”

Funny, I didn’t hear it say a thing. “How so?”

“It wasn’t your usual ****-me-harder moan I heard when I pushed your legs back.” He leans down to kiss the side of my neck. “Your legs were guarded so I knew you were probably feeling the aftermath of our pole excursion.” He kisses the side of my face. “I’m sure it’s worse today so we’re taking a break from *** so you can recuperate.”

I recall how gentle and loving Jack Henry was last night while we christened our honeymoon bed. His whole demeanor was different, but he was that way before, possibly discerning how sore I was. “Is that why you were so gentle with me?”

“Partly.”

“What’s the other reason?”

“I wanted to make love to you.” He presses his nose against my hair and inhales deeply. “I’m boorish with you too often. I should be gentler.”

I roll, forcing him to move from my back. “Listen up, McLachlan.” He moves to his side and we’re face to face. “I love your gentle side but I’m not a porcelain doll. I love it when you **** me hard.” I grab his chin and give it a squeeze. “Sometimes I need you to be a ****man. I crave it. Understand?”

He nods in agreement. “Yes, ma’am.”

“This is our honeymoon so there will be no breaks from ***. Got it?”

“No argument here.”

“Good.” I push him to his back and straddle him. I place my palms against his chest and rub his pectorals. “Life is so much easier when you see things my way.”

He licks his lips while reaching to palm my breasts. “You’re always very convincing, Mrs. McLachlan. I’m afraid I’ll never stand a chance with you.”

I lean down so we’re face to face again. “I’m afraid you’re right.” I suck his bottom lip into my mouth but let it go when his phone rings. It’s Margaret.

“****. I haven’t called Mum since we arrived. She’s going to rip me a new one.”

“No, she isn’t. I’ve got this.” I take his phone from the nightstand. “Good mornin’, Margaret.”

“Hello, darling. I’m sorry to call but my inconsiderate son hasn’t seen fit to phone his mum to let her know all is well.”

“I’m so sorry, Margaret. I’m afraid that’s all my fault.” I wink at Jack Henry. “I’ve been keeping him pretty busy.” I’m still straddling him so I move my hips against him.

“It’s okay. I totally understand but I needed to check in to make sure you were both all right.”

He rises and puts his mouth on one of my breasts, sucking my nipple into his mouth. “We’re having a great time. I love the house.”

“I knew you would.”

He moves to my other breast, rolling his tongue around the tip of its rosy pebble. “I can’t believe he bought it for me.”

“I can. He loves you so much, Laurelyn.”

I look at the top of his dark head and run my fingers through his hair. “I know, and I love him.”

“I know you do, honey. Any idea when you’ll be returning?”

I remember him telling me we were here as long as we liked. I’ve been having so much fun, it hasn’t crossed my mind to ask when we’ll go home. I guess it’s something we should discuss soon since Christmas is just around the corner.

“Just a minute, Margaret.” I press mute. “She wants to know when we’re coming home.”

He takes a piece of my hair between his fingers and playfully twirls it. “Tell her we’ll discuss it and let her know.”

I unmute the phone. “We haven’t decided yet but we’ll let you know after we talk it over.”

“Okay … as long as you’re back in time for Christmas. I know Jack Henry and how he thinks. I won’t have my new daughter spend her first McLachlan holiday away from the family.”

“I’ll tell him you said so.”

Jack Henry’s interest is piqued. He mouths, “Tell me what?”

I wave him off. “I’m sorry, Margaret. Jack Henry was distracting me. What was that?”

“I said I’ll let you go so you can go back to keeping your husband busy.”

I feel heat in my face. I’m certain I’m blushing at my mother-in-law’s reference. Nookie. She strongly encourages it. First, because she wanted me to snag Jack Henry as a husband and now because she probably wants me pregnant. She as good as said so at our wedding.

“All right. We’ll talk soon.”

“Have a wonderful time, darling. I love you and tell Jack Henry I love him.”

I tear up after I hear my mother-in-law tell me she loves me. She accepted me so easily. Her arms have been opened in my direction from the moment we met—something my own father couldn’t even do for me. “I will. We love you too.”

I lean over to place the phone on the nightstand and then return to sitting astride Jack Henry. “She says to tell you she loves you.”

“I owe you, sweet cheeks.” He lifts my hand to his lips for a kiss. “I’m certain you just saved me from a Margaret-style arse kicking.”

“We’re husband and wife. That means we protect one another.”

“I don’t know what I did before you.”

His words spark a reminder of what he did before me and a peculiar look comes over his face. We both know why, so I push it out of my mind and attempt a change of subject. “What day do you have in mind for going back?”

“I was thinking we might stay a couple of weeks.”

I don’t have to do the math in my head to realize that means staying here through the holidays. “And miss Christmas with your family?” Our family.

“I think it would be nice to spend our first Christmas as husband and wife here. I’ll go out and get us a tree. We can decorate it together—anyway you want.”

My heart plummets.

“What is it?”

I place my finger on his chest and before I know it, I’m tracing the infinity symbol. “This is my first chance at a normal Christmas with family. It’s something I’ve never had before. I guess I was excited about it, but we can stay here. Spending the holidays with just you and me will be special.”

Beauty from Love
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He grabs my hand and kisses it. “I’m such an idiot. I wasn’t thinking. Of course, you want to spend our first Christmas with family.”

Being with Jack Henry is all I really need. “I want to make you happy. If being here together is what you have in mind, then that’s what we should do.”

“No. I’m making sure you have the Christmas you deserve. We’ll leave Saturday so we can be back before Christmas Eve. What do you think of that?”

“I think it’s perfect—just like you.”

The last six days have been the best of my life. I’m sad to leave Maui but I know Jack Henry and I can return whenever we choose, so the sadness is lessened.

It’s almost Christmas Eve by the time we land in Sydney, and I’m thankful Daniel is there waiting with the car. I’m so exhausted I practically fall inside. Jack Henry gathers me in his arms for the ride to our apartment and strokes his hand over my hair. “You see? This is what happens when you act like a ***-crazed maniac.”

I gather all my strength to respond. “Sorry, McLachlan. It won’t happen again.”

That’s the last thing I remember until we arrive at the apartment and Jack Henry attempts to gather me so he can carry me inside. “I’m awake. I can walk.”

“I’m carrying you over the threshold.”

“You did that already,” I argue.

“I did it at our vacation house. Now I’m doing it at our apartment and you should expect me to do it again when we go home to Avalon.”

I get out of the car and he scoops me up. “You’re being silly, but I’m too tired to argue with you, freak, so take me to bed.”

“Gladly.”

I shake my head. “Not for that, McLachlan. To rest. I’m exhausted.”

“You’ve been sleeping a lot the past few days. Do you feel okay?”

He’s right. I spent more time in bed than usual but it was our honeymoon. Aren’t we supposed to stay in bed far too much? “I’m fine … just exhausted by my husband’s robust ***ual appetite this week.”

“Are you complaining?”

“Most certainly not.”

“Welcome home, sort of, my beautiful bride.” He chuckles as he brings me through the front door and sets me on the floor. He looks at me and then places his palm against my forehead. “You look pale. Sure you feel okay?”

“I’m really tired.”

He takes my hand. “Let’s get you to bed so you can catch up on your sleep. You’ll need to be energized for tomorrow.”

****! I have no idea how I’m going to get everything done. “But I don’t have time to sleep. There’s too much to do.” I take a look around the living room but don’t see any deliveries. I wonder where Daniel put them. “There should be a stash of Christmas packages here somewhere. They’ll need wrapping before tomorrow. That’ll take a lot of time because I make my own bows.”

“No, ma’am. There’s plenty of time for that. The first thing you’re going to do is sleep and you can get to those other things later if you feel well enough.”

I hate to admit it, but I’m too tired to argue with him. “Okay. Wake me in two hours.”

It’s dark when I open my eyes so that means Jack Henry didn’t wake me as I’d asked. ****! I’ve slept the whole day.

My head is pounding and I have chills. My body feels as though it’s been run over by a semi … and then backed over again. I don’t feel well at all and I can admit it.

I sit on the edge of the bed and flip on the lamp. The dim light is painful and I’d like to turn it off and lie back down but I have an urgent need to use the bathroom. I rise to stand at the side of the bed but my head spins so I lower myself to sit again.

As if on cue, Jack Henry comes into the room. “You’re finally awake. You’ve been sleeping like the dead.” He walks over and again places his hand on my head. “You’re hot.”

“Glad you think so.”

“You’re considerably chipper for someone with a fever.”

I reach up and hold my head. “I’m dizzy but I really need to go to the bathroom.”

“I’ll help you.”

He helps me to stand and my head feels like I’ve been whirling in circles, so I shut my eyes tight. “Oh God. I may throw up.” And if I do, my bladder is going to explode. “Bathroom. Now.”

He takes my hands and guides me in the direction I need to go but I don’t open my eyes because I know I’ll spew if I do. I feel his hands guiding me back toward the toilet before he peels my panties down my legs. “Sit.”

We’ve done this before and he knows I don’t want him around for bodily functions. “Hand me the trash can and then get out.”

“I’m not leaving you alone on the verge of falling off the toilet into your own puke.”

Seriously? He wants to argue about this now? I’m miserable because my bladder is about to burst. I squeeze my eyes, although I’m covering them with my hand. “I can’t pee with you in here. You’ve got to go.”

“I’m not leaving if you’re unsteady.”

“Grr,” I groan. “I’m not going to fall but I may very well explode if you don’t get out of here.”

“You get one minute but you’d better call for me if you feel shaky. Got it?”

“Yes! Get out.” I sound hateful—I don’t mean to—but the wretchedness engulfing me is to blame.

The minute I hear the door shut, I’m finally able to relax enough to empty my bladder. And then it starts—the heaving, followed by the vomiting.

My eyes are still shut but I hear Jack Henry open the bathroom door. “You okay?” I heave loudly and I’m guessing he interprets that as a negative because he’s by my side with a cool, wet cloth to the back of my neck. “What do you think is wrong?”

“I don’t know. I guess some kind of virus since I have a fever.” Even after vomiting, I don’t dare open my eyes because I don’t want to get started again. “Damn. This happened fast. I don’t remember ever feeling so bad in all my life.”

I’m sickened further when I realize I won’t be able to attend Christmas with my new family. “No way I can go to your parents’ tomorrow.”

He rubs my back. “You don’t have to make that call right now, but I’ll bet you’ll probably feel much better by tomorrow.”

Beauty from Love
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He isn’t getting it. “I have a fever, so that means I’m probably contagious. Even if I feel better, I can’t expose the family to whatever this is—especially the kids.”

“You’ve been really tired and now you’re throwing up and dizzy. Could you be … ?”

He doesn’t finish but I know what he’s thinking. I hate bursting his bubble. “Pregnancy doesn’t make you feverish.”

“Unless you’re pregnant and you have a virus.” Is he seriously wishing a pregnancy on top of this? I look up at him and my expression must convey my thoughts. “Don’t look at me like that. You were right there with me on that bathroom counter the night before the wedding. It could’ve happened. Plus, it’s not like we’ve been incredibly consistent in the birth control department lately.”

I want to ask whose fault that is but I keep that comment to myself. “My period should start anytime.”

He’s rubbing my neck. “Want to try to go back to bed?”

I’m minimally better so it seems a good idea. “Yeah. I think I’m finished for now, but give me a minute. I’ll let you know when I’m ready for you.”

He sighs, a sign he doesn’t appreciate my need for privacy, but I don’t care. I have business to tend and it doesn’t concern him. And I’m very glad I asked him to leave when I see the blood after I wipe. Talk about being on cue—my period has arrived so we won’t have to wait to know I’m not pregnant.

Seeing the evidence of what I already knew leaves me unsettled. I didn’t believe I was pregnant but I think I might have hoped, maybe somewhere deep in the back of my mind, that we had conceived. Is this disappointment I’m feeling?

I come out of the bathroom once I’m finished and he’s instantly by my side, helping me to the bed. “I started my period just now.”

“Oh.” I hear his disappointment and I’m not sure how to respond. Saying I’m sorry doesn’t feel right and neither does telling him we’ll try. The truth is that I’m not sure what I want. I only know I love him and want nothing more than to please him, but do I agree to have a baby when I’m uncertain because I want to make him happy? How can that be best for our marriage?

I told him I’d think about a baby—and I will—but not now. I don’t have it in me to do anything but climb into our bed and fall fast asleep.

6

It’s becoming clearer as the hours tick by that L and I will not be spending Christmas at my parents’ house as planned. I had hoped she would make a miraculous recovery so we’d be able to make it, but we’ve no such luck. If anything, she’s sicker.

I hate waking her again but it can’t be good for her to go so long without drinking. “L.” I lightly shake her shoulder. “Love, you’re going to get dehydrated if you don’t drink something else.”

She slowly wakes following a second shake. “I brought you some fresh water.”

She closes her eyes. “I don’t want anymore. I’ll throw up if I put anything in my stomach.”

I nudge her again. “Please try. Would you rather go to the hospital and get an IV?”

She puts her hand over her eyes. “I’m too sick to get up and go to the hospital.”

Even sick, she tries to be funny. “I can manage getting you there if it’s what you need.”

She sighs, or maybe huffs is a better word. “Fine. I’ll drink the damn water but bring me something to puke in. There’s no way I can run to the bathroom when it decides to come back up.”

I place a couple of pillows against the headboard and help her to a sitting position. She takes the glass from my hand but I don’t release it because I’m afraid she’s too weak to maintain her grip. “I’ve got it.” I’m not convinced but I let her take it anyway. “What time is it?”

I look at the clock. “Almost two. How do you feel?”

“I’m still weak but I think I feel better than I did this morning.” It’s small, but she takes a drink and it doesn’t immediately come back up. “We’re missing Christmas. Is Margaret terribly upset?”

Very much so, but there’s no way I’m telling L that. “She’s disappointed but understands it isn’t your fault you’re sick.”

She brings the glass to her mouth and takes another sip. “I think it’s a twenty-four hour bug or something since I’m feeling better.”

She has no idea how relieved I am to hear that. “I’m glad because I really considered gathering you up and taking you to the hospital.”

She isn’t too sick to give me her oh hell no look. “I think you know that wouldn’t have gone over well with me.”

She better figure out nothing will stop me from taking care of her. “It doesn’t matter when it comes to your well-being.”

“Good thing I’m better, then.”

“Think you’re good enough to open your Christmas present?”

She smiles and I’m reassured for the first time that she may actually be feeling better. “Absolutely.”

I’m excited like a little kid. “Be right back.”

“No. I want to come to the living room.”

“Sure you feel well enough?”

“I won’t be dancing a jig but I’m good enough to make it to the couch.” She slides to the edge of the bed. “Give me a quick minute to freshen up and I’ll meet you on the couch.”

She’s changed and freshened, looking quite different from the person I was so worried about twelve hours ago. She’s sitting on the sofa waiting for her gifts, and I can’t stop myself from wondering what her previous Christmases were like.

I remember last year. I found her alone when I drove from Sydney to Wagga Wagga and brought her home with me to Avalon—after Mum insisted. I was such a fool then. “Tell me what holidays were like for you growing up.”

She looks puzzled. “Why?”

I shrug. “You’re my wife. I want to know.”

“Terrible until my mom got clean. I’d classify them as tolerable after that. My grandparents were the only joyful part of the holidays for me.” That’s not much detail about what it was like, but I’m guessing this is as far as she wants to go today.

“I wanted this to be the most special Christmas you’ve ever had.”

She smiles and reaches out to touch my arm. “It is. I’m your wife and we’re together. Nothing could spoil that, not even me being sick as a dog.”

Beauty from Love
Page 14



“You are so precious to me.” I lean over and kiss the top of her head. I walk over to the Christmas tree Mum had delivered and decorated so we’d have our own for our first Christmas together.

I sit next to Laurelyn with her gifts. “I’ve been carrying your presents with me since the day we left on our honeymoon. I wanted to spend the holidays in Maui so I could have you all to myself on Christmas. Looks like I’m having my way, although this isn’t exactly what I had in mind.”

“I feel like ****. I bought your gifts before the wedding but they’re under our tree at Avalon. I’m sorry. I thought we’d go home after we left your parents and have our own little Christmas there.”

“I don’t care about me, babe. This Christmas is only about you.” I place her first gift on her lap and her face lights up like a child. “Open it.”

She grins as she tears the paper of the small square box. She looks up at me when she sees the jewelry box. “You’ve given me a necklace, earrings, and a bracelet. What could this be?”

“Only one way to find out.”

She flips the jewelry box lid and her eyes dance as she touches her new platinum and diamond drop navel ring. “Oh my God. You bought diamonds for my belly button.” She takes it from the box and holds it up for a better look. “It’s beautiful.”

“I couldn’t find one I liked so I had to have a jeweler make it.” I point to the biggest stone. “This one is a third of a carat. The two smaller ones are quarter-carats each. The jeweler recommended keeping the total weight under a carat so it didn’t become too much.”

She lifts her shirt and holds it over her current ring. “What do you think?”

I can’t wait to see it on her—but not now. “It’s perfect, but wait until you feel better to put it in.”

She reaches for my face and strokes it with her palm. “Always so thoughtful.”

“You haven’t seen anything yet, baby.”

I give her the girly gifts my mum and sister helped me choose—nothing particularly special—and I’m down to the last one. “This is sort of a wedding-slash-Christmas present.” I place the rolled set of papers across her legs. “I wanted to give this to you before we left on our honeymoon but it wasn’t ready.”

I see her intrigue by the way she scrunches her brow. “What is this?”

“Unroll it and take a look.”

She slides to the edge of the couch and spreads the rolled papers out on the coffee table. “It’s blueprints?”

“Yes.”

“For … a house?”

“Not exactly.” I move a picture frame to one side of the papers and a candle to the other to act as paperweights so I can show her the surprise. “This is the newest e***ion at Avalon—a music studio for you. It was designed by the leading acoustical engineer in the business. The guy is supposed to be some kind of genius when it comes to the science of sound and vibration in technology.” I gesture toward the northeast corner of the drawing. “This room will have state-of-the-art recording equipment.”

She’s silent and I don’t know what that means. “I know this won’t be you traveling around the world with Southern Ophelia, but it’s a way for you to hang on to your music. We live in a technical world and you can work with people in Nashville from here in Australia. I’m hoping you’ll find it a happy medium.”

“Happy medium means I’m settling for less than I truly want but that’s not what this is—or what you are. You’re everything to me—my number one. I love music but it’ll always come after you and when we have a family, it’ll come behind them.” She waves her hand over the blueprints. “I love this. It’s absolutely incredible and proves yet again how thoughtful you are and how much you love me.” She puts her arms out for me to come to her—so I do. “I’d **** you into this couch if I weren’t sick.”

That’s my girl. “I accept rain checks.”

“I’m sure you do.”

“I have to call Addison to tell her about this.” The doorbell rings and a puzzled look appears on Laurelyn’s face. “Who in the world could that be?”

“There’s only one person I can think of.” Margaret McLachlan. I move to answer the door. “I guess it’s a good thing I’m not getting ****ed into the couch right now.”

My guess is spot on. “Mum. This is a surprise.” Not really. I knew she wouldn’t stay away.

She’s holding several plates of food and passes them to me. “I brought you something to eat.” I take the food from her and she steps around me to go to Laurelyn. “How’s our girl?”

“I’m much better, thank you.”

She sits next to L and immediately begins her mothering by feeling L’s forehead. I guess I learned that from her. “You’re a little warm but you don’t have fever. Any chills?”

“I did earlier but I haven’t felt them in hours.”

“Good. Whatever this is, it’s passing quickly. I made soup. Do you feel like eating?”

Laurelyn nods and my mum motions for the cabana boy—me—to jump. “You’re going to eat soup for her but you’d barely drink water for me.” I sound like a pouty child.

“I feel better since I’ve gotten out of bed.” She points to the blueprints on the coffee table. “And since I got this incredible Christmas gift.”

My mum leans over to look at the plans. “What is this?”

“I’m building a music studio at Avalon.”

Mum nods in approval. “What a great idea. You must be happy about this.”

Laurelyn leans up and adjusts the pillow behind her back. “Beyond thrilled is more like it.”

“My boy does good.”

“He certainly does.” I’m glad to have the approval of the two most important women in my life.

I take Laurelyn’s empty soup bowl when she finishes and Mum follows me into the kitchen. “She’s pale.”

She’s a hundred percent better than she was. “Pale is an improvement over the color she was early this morning. She scared me, Mum. She doesn’t realize how very close I was to taking her to the hospital.”

“She kept saying her wedding dress was tight so I thought she might have already been pregnant but just didn’t realize it yet. I was hoping that was why she didn’t feel well, but I see that isn’t the case.” So I’m not the only one hoping for a baby soon.

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“I’d hoped the same thing but she isn’t. We know for sure.” I don’t want to tell my mum about my wife’s period, so I hope she understands what I mean.

She’s grinning. “She may want to work on that as soon as she feels better.”

I shrug. “I don’t know. We discussed it in Maui. She told me she’d think about it.”

“Don’t look so discouraged. Thinking about it isn’t a no.”

“It isn’t a yes, either,” I argue.

“Son, she’s open to the idea if she’s thinking it over, but don’t rush her. Pressure is the last thing she needs. You’ve been married a week. There’s plenty of time for babies.”

Laurelyn has plenty of time for babies. I’m not so sure about myself but I’m not going to upset my mum by going there with her. “I know.”

“Enjoy being together while you can. Trust me, that special time is rare once little ones come along.”

Isn’t that the same thing Evan told me about Emma? That, along with a lot of other **** I didn’t want to hear about him ****ing her on their living room couch and kids nursing on her all the time. “I treasure every moment with Laurelyn.”

“As you should.” She takes the spoon and bowl from me and goes to the sink to wash them. “You couldn’t have chosen a better gift than a music studio.”

“Laurelyn quit the band but she didn’t give up music. She wants to continue to work—maybe writing songs for other artists. I think the studio will be the perfect avenue for her to work from home instead of making trips to Nashville.”

“Isn’t Nashville where that man lives, the one who attacked her?” That whole situation weighs heavily on my mind.

“Yes and she’ll have to go back to testify.”

“How do you feel about that?” my mum asks.

She doesn’t really want to hear me tell her how I feel about it, how I want to kill him. “I don’t want them in the same room ever again, but I want that son of bitch locked up with the key thrown away. It’ll take her testimony to do that.”

“You’ve never told me about it.”

And I don’t plan to. “I can’t. L doesn’t want anyone to know what he did to her.” She drops the soup bowl in the sink, shattering it, before she turns to me, looking sickened. “He didn’t, Mum. I stopped him in time. But another minute and I don’t think the outcome would’ve been the same.”

She reaches for the dish towel and dries her hands before walking to me. “I had no idea.”

“Don’t say anything to Laurelyn.”

“I wouldn’t, son.” She holds my face with her hands. “You’ve done a lot of things to make me proud but never more so than when you took Laurelyn as your wife. As her husband, it’s your job to love her.” She’s unmoving as her eyes stare into mine. “She’s one of us now and we protect our own … at any cost.”

I nod in agreement with my mum. “With every heartbeat I have left, I will keep her safe.”

I hear the echo of Laurelyn’s phone and I recognize her mum’s ringtone. “Jolie’s calling, I’m sure to wish Laurelyn a merry Christmas.”

“Good. Laurelyn needs her mother to be a presence in her life, even if from a distance.”

7

It’s taken several days for me to feel as though I’ve returned to the land of the living but I’m back. I hope I’m ready for the party scene because Daniel is driving us to Evan and Emma’s house for their New Year’s shindig. It’s not a family party, meaning I’ll be meeting Jack Henry’s friends, so my stomach is fluttering a mile a minute.

“You’re quiet, love.”

I consider saying nothing but can’t think of a good reason to keep it from him. “I’m your wife and I’ve yet to meet your friends, so I can’t help but feel nervous about meeting your inner circle.”

Jack Henry had no intention of introducing me to the people in his life when we began our companionship. Meeting his parents and siblings wasn’t supposed to happen but even after we abandoned our original agreement, he didn’t take me around his friends. He still hasn’t, and I admit I’m troubled by this.

Our wedding was small with only family in attendance. I’d like to think that was because he didn’t want me to feel bad about a huge crowd on his side when I had only four family members and a single friend, but the insecure person trapped inside me wonders if there’s more to it than that.

“The people attending this party aren’t my mates. They’re Evan and Emma’s, so we’re acquaintances at best.”

“Oh.” So I still won’t meet those he considers his buddies. “Why haven’t I met your friends?”

He’s grinning as he leans over to kiss my cheek. “I have none worthy of your company.”

He’s avoiding the question. “That’s not an answer.”

“I’m not hiding you from them, if that’s what’s on your mind.” His arm is around me and I lean into him. He squeezes me closer and plants a kiss on the top of my head. “Or maybe I am. The whole bunch of them are self-proclaimed manwhores so I’d do well to keep you from them forever.”

A manwhore, huh? Sort of sounds like someone I used to know.

“I assure you you’re not missing anything, but I can have Mum invite a few to my birthday dinner next Saturday night if it’s what you want.”

That’s right. My man has a birthday coming in thirteen days. Thirty-one. He sees age as a countdown but I don’t. That’s no way to think of life and I have to change his mindset. I also have to come up with a gift for him—a perfect one.

We arrive at my brother and sister-in-law’s and the driveway is full of expensive cars. “Looks like they invited a lot of people.” And it looks like some rich ones, which surprises me. I guess I didn’t realize Evan and Emma rubbed elbows with a wealthy crowd.

“Perfect.” The sarcasm is thick in his voice. “You should probably be prepared to be passed around. If you tire of it, let me know and we’ll leave. I’m not opposed to ringing in the new year at home, just the two of us.”

I wouldn’t want to upset Evan and Emma by leaving before midnight. I look at the time. “We can survive anything together for four hours.”

“We need a code word.”

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Is he kidding? “A code word? For what?”

“For when you’ve had enough and you need to get out.”

Now I’m really afraid. “I don’t know.” I think for a moment, offering the first word that comes to me. “Infinity.”

He grins. “May I say how fitting that is since it’s what you trace with your finger when you’re mulling something over.”

We enter the house and it’s more crowded than I expected. A lot of people must’ve come by taxi, or maybe they’re like Jack Henry and have drivers. I hadn’t considered that I might have to mingle with an elite crowd.

****. I may have married a man from the upper class but I’ve never rubbed elbows with these kind of people, not even in my music career. I’m a simple Southern girl with a twang I can’t shake no matter how hard I try.

Please don’t let me say or do anything to embarrass myself or my husband.

Emma’s at my side almost instantly, placing a drink in my hand. “Evan’s specialty—a painkiller.”

I put it to my nose and sniff. “Mmm … smells delicious.”

Jack Henry takes it from me and turns it up for a taste. “Be forewarned, L. Evan will fool you with these. He’ll add more and more spiced rum in each one you drink. He wants you smashed—if for no other reason than to **** with me.”

****-block. I swear they’re worse than two little boys hitting each other in the nuts. I bet they did that to each other all the time when they were growing up. Poor Margaret. I bet she wore their asses out every day whether they needed it or not.

Emma laughs. “Jack’s not kidding. You should watch out for Evan. He loves nothing more than to **** with his brother and he’ll do it through you if he has to—just like Jack will use me.” She hits my husband in the arm. “It never stops. I thought they’d grow out of it eventually—especially after we had kids—but they haven’t. They’re worse than my own children so I gave up hope a long time ago.”

I don’t intend on being curled over a toilet tonight or tomorrow morning. “Don’t worry.”

Emma grabs my hand and tugs. “Come with me. I want to introduce you around.”

We make the rounds and my sister-in-law introduces me to one person after another. Jack Henry was right. I’m passed from one person to the next like some kind of novelty. Everyone at the party wants to meet the woman capable of lassoing Jack McLachlan’s heart.

Meeting this many people at once, while trying to keep their names straight, is exhausting. I need a break from the crowd … and the alcohol. Jack Henry and Emma were right. Evan mixes much stronger drinks for me as the night progresses.

I catch Jack Henry’s attention and motion toward the outside door. I fan myself and then point at the door so he knows I mean to step out for air. He gives me a nod, a signal that he understands, and I blow him a kiss.

I step out into the night air and sit in a patio chair with my feet resting on an ottoman. God, it’s hot. I’m not used to bringing in the new year in the summer. I think I almost expected to see my breath in the cold air.

It’s a reality I haven’t considered—certainly not the end of the world—but I realize I’ll never have a white Christmas in Australia. All of the things I associate with the holidays aren’t the same here. I’m surprised by how bothered I am when I consider that my kids will never go out to play in the snow after they’ve opened their gifts from Santa.

“I see I’m not the only one needing some fresh air.”

I turn toward the female voice interrupting my thoughts and see a beautiful, petite blond with silky hair flowing down her back. “Yeah. It’s a lot to take in at one time.”

She sits in the chair next to me. “I noticed Emma parading you around so I’m guessing you are her new sister-in-law, Laurelyn.”

This woman knows my name but that’s not surprising since everyone at this party is aware that I’m Jack Henry’s wife. Still, it’s unnerving. “That would be me.”

“Your accent is adorable.”

“Thanks. It sort of sticks out like a sore thumb. I’ve tried to tame it but I’m afraid it’s no use.”

“Don’t. You sound like a sweet little country girl,” she laughs. “You shouldn’t change it *****it your husband.”

It’s true that I consider myself a country girl but I’m not sure I like this woman’s tone as she tells me I sound like one. I believe she’s trying to insult me—but in a catty way—as though I’m too stupid to see it. And I didn’t mention anything about changing my accent because Jack Henry didn’t like it. “My husband loves my accent and would never want me to speak differently.”

“You’re the one who said you were trying to change it.”

I know exactly what I said and it wasn’t that my husband didn’t like me the way I was.

I don’t know this woman and I have no desire to argue with a complete stranger. I came outside to get a break from empty conversations and I don’t intend on having another with her, especially if she’s going to put words I didn’t say into my mouth.

“If you’ll excuse me.” I get up to leave. “Jack Henry will be looking for me.”

“Oh, look. You’re right. Here comes Jack now.” She emphasizes his name—as if she’s correcting me about what I should call my own husband—and I’m taken aback by her nasty tone and sudden change of demeanor. Who is she? Did I get her name? I don’t think so.

She walks toward Jack Henry and goes up on her tiptoes. I know what’s she’s going to do because I can see it coming a mile away. She intends to kiss him on the mouth. “Hello, Jack.”

The bitch is quick, but he’s faster as he turns his head and grabs her shoulders to push her away. “No, Lana.” He sounds as though he’s scolding a child. Or a dog—so the term bitch would be accurate.

Disappointment is etched all over her face. His reaction clearly isn’t what she’d hoped for but then she breaks into a sneer directed at me. “I’m Lana and I can see from your expression that you’ve heard of me.”

“Don’t,” Jack Henry warns her.

“Don’t what, Jack? Tell her we were a thing and we used to **** like champions?” She’s smirking, trying to get under my skin—and as badly as I hate to admit it, it’s working.

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**** like champions. Perfect. My husband used the same terminology with me that he once used with this woman—the one who attempted to trap him into marriage by getting pregnant.

I’m caught off guard, my mind completely blank, so I don’t have a response for my husband’s former lover. I don’t want her to know what an impact she has had on Jack Henry’s life or how she has shaped who he became even years after they broke up. As much as I despise it, she has had a huge influence over my husband and the thought of her taking any kind of pleasure from knowing that sickens me.

What does she want? She didn’t follow me outside for no reason. “Lana. I’m aware of your prior relationship with my husband and I’m also privy to knowing why he ended things with you. He, nor I, has any interest in reminiscing about the manner in which you once ****ed. I’m his wife—by choice, not force. That means he ****s me—and only me—like a champion. And he enjoys the hell out of it when he does, which is often.” I’m shaking on the inside. My upper lip may even be quivering. “Does that cover it, or do you need further discouragement?”

She looks at Jack Henry and reaches for his hand. “There’s no possible way you could be happy with her. If you’ll think about it, you’ll remember how good we were together.”

Un-****ing-believable!

Jack Henry moves from her reach and places his arm in front of me. It’s to hold me back because he knows I could go for blood any second. “Lana, I don’t remember us ever being good together. You’re just somebody I used to know.” He reaches for my hand. “I love my wife with all my heart and we couldn’t be happier.”

“I know you, Jack. You don’t keep any woman around for long. You need variety—and I’m okay with that—but she won’t be.” She walks toward the house and calls out over her shoulder. “Emma will know how to reach me once the shine is knocked off your new bride.”

That was absolutely humiliating—being told by a woman that she used to **** my husband—and no less than like a champion. It’s almost as if she said that knowing it would hit home with me. I want to strangle them both.

I stand motionless as reality sinks in. I married a man with many women in his past. This is the third time I’ve been humiliated by one of his previous lovers and I strongly suspect it won’t be the last. “How many times do I have to go through this?”

He puts his hands on my shoulders, maybe because he’s afraid I’ll bolt. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know she was invited. We wouldn’t have come had I known.”

I’m guessing she’s Emma’s friend if she’s at her party, so why wouldn’t he have considered her being invited? “You never told me Lana was Emma’s friend. Is that how you met her?”

“Yes.”

I feel like I’ve been hit in the gut. Jack Henry’s connection to Lana through Emma is a huge problem for me.

“Come on. We’re going home,” he says.

Oh hell no! Tucking my tail between my legs isn’t my forte. Leaving would make me appear upset, which I am, but also weak, which I’m not, so I have no intention of giving her that pleasure. “No. It’s too early to go home. We have a new year to ring in.” I walk toward the house. “I think I’ll have another painkiller since I’m due a stronger drink.”

“L. Don’t get smashed because you’re angry at her.”

“I’m not going to get drunk because I’m angry with her. I’m going to drink way more than I should because I’m pissed off at both of you.”

“What did I do?” He tries to catch me but I make it into the house before he can grasp my arm.

I find Evan still acting as the resident bartender. “Hey, sis. Can I do you for another?”

“You certainly may, bro.”

Jack Henry walks up and watches Evan mix my drink. “Get her hammered and I’m kicking your ass.”

Evan gives him the bird and I sort of feel like doing the same thing.

He grabs my hand and leads me into Evan and Emma’s bedroom. He shuts the door and presses me against it. “Why are you mad at me, L? I didn’t do anything wrong.”

L. Hearing him say that puts a thought into my head. Laurelyn. Lana. “Oh my God. Did you call her L too?”

“What?” He looks like I’ve injured him as he steps away from me. “No, of course I didn’t. That’s my special name for you.”

He can wipe that hurt look off his face. “She used your words, McLachlan. **** like a champion. I can’t believe you said that to me on our honeymoon when it’s what you used to say to her.”

He shrugs and puts his hands out. “It’s a phrase that my mates and I used to say all the time. It wasn’t something special I shared with her. In fact, I don’t recall ever telling her I was going to do that to her.”

I don’t want to hear details about anything he might or might not have done with her. “Just stop.”

He rakes his hands through his hair—a telltale sign of his frustration. “You are my wife. I love you. She and I were over a long time ago. You heard me tell her that, so why are you angry with me?”

I’ve probably turned an ugly shade of green because I’m so envious of the role she has played in his life. “I’m your wife yet this other woman has molded you into the man you are.”

He cradles my face with his hands. “Dammit, Laurelyn. You make me the man I am today—the one who loves his wife and wants to be a father. When are you gonna see that you’ve undone all the damage she caused? You make me … unbroken.”

She will always be a part of him. “She made you the way you are. I can’t stand that you became a man that went from one meaningless relationship to the next because of her. It sickens me.”

He backs away from me. “Because of you, I didn’t feel broken anymore … but I can clearly see that you don’t feel the same.”

I didn’t know that’s how he felt, like he’s fixed because of me. I’m so stupid. I just told him I’m sickened by the man he is. “I’m a foolish woman. I shouldn’t have said those things. I didn’t mean them.” He places his hand on my arm to move me away from the door but I plant my feet firmly. “No.”

He doesn’t move an inch but looks me in my eyes. “Infinity.” The moment he says the word, I know I’ve messed up. Bad. He’s used our code word as a safe word. It means he’s had enough of me and needs to get away.

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I step aside so he can leave and I remain in Evan and Emma’s bedroom. Alone.

8

I open the door and Lana’s standing there eavesdropping because that’s what a nosy bitch does. I try to move around her but she steps with me, blocking my escape. I place my hands on her arms. She thinks I mean to kiss her because she closes her eyes and leans in but instead I force her aside.

She grasps my biceps tightly, pressing her long claws into my skin. “I heard what she said. Your wife doesn’t want you the way you are—but I do.”

The more Lana says, the more I realize how much I hate her. I can’t believe I ever had a relationship with this bitch. “I’m not discussing my marriage with you.”

She shrugs. “Doesn’t sound like there’s a marriage to discuss. Your wife is repulsed by the person you are—the man I made you, per her words.” She advances toward me. “If she loved you, she’d be fine with who you are.”

I continue to hold her at arm’s length. “Stop. I don’t want to hear this.”

“I’d be okay with you having other women. You could bring them into our bed anytime you wanted.” She grins and gestures toward the door of Evan and Emma’s bedroom. “I’ve come to like it. Maybe you and me and Laurelyn could give it a try.”

What the hell is wrong with her? “I punched the last person who suggested something similar.”

“My tastes have matured since we were together. I like it rough.” She unexpectedly shoves me. I’m caught off guard and my back slams against the wall, making a loud thud. “So would you if you’d let me show you.”

She’s not just a bitch—she’s crazy. “You’re nuts and I’m done here.”

I push against her to escape but she locks her arms, pulling me with her against the wall. I stumble, landing chest to chest with her, causing another loud thump. “See? I knew you’d like it rough.”

She holds on to me tightly and her intent is no mystery. She wants L to open the door and see me with her like this.

And she gets what she’s after.

Laurelyn stands in the doorway staring at me tangled in Lana’s arms. I’m ****ed—and not the way I want to be. “L. It’s not what it looks like.” That’s all I’m able to say before she storms past down the hallway.

“How ****in’ cliché! At least have enough respect for me to be original.”

“Whoops,” Lana laughs.

I’ve never been violent toward a woman in my life but I have to fight the urge to put my fist in this one’s face. At the very moment I feel like I could explode, I punch my clenched hand through the wall next to her head. She appears somber and fear creeps into her eyes. She’s frightened by my display and potential of what I might do to her. Good. I hope I’ve managed to put a stop to her game. “I never want to see your face again.”

I push away from her to go find my wife and I see Evan still bartending as I pass through the kitchen. “Did Laurelyn come through here?”

“Umm … yeah. I think she went out the door to the garage.” I’m guessing she has Daniel on his way and plans to sneak out. She won’t if I have anything to do with it.

It’ll take him at least twenty minutes to get here so I walk over to the kitchen sink to wash my bloody hand. Evan calls out, “Whoa, bro! Who’d you punch?”

It stings as the cold water hits the open skin. “Not who. Tell Emma she can pick a new color for the hallway if she wants since you’ll be needing some sheetrock work.”

“I’m assuming that was no accident.”

“Definitely not. Laurelyn thinks she saw me ****ing around with Lana.” Even I admit it must have appeared that way. “You know I wasn’t. She set it up to look that way.”

“I knew she was up to something when she called Emma out of the blue. She was fishing for an invite to the party so she could get to you and Laurelyn.”

Emma walks up. “Who wanted to get to you and Laurelyn?” She looks down at my hand. “Oh hell. What happened?”

“A ****storm named Lana.” I don’t want to explain this again. “Catch Emma up. I gotta find L and explain.”

I go into the garage and find no trace of Laurelyn so I call her phone. I hear the faint Hawaiian ren***ion of “Somewhere Over the Rainbow” and follow its melody toward the courtyard. She’s sitting at the bistro table digging through her purse to find the noisemaker. I’m sure she wants to silence it so I don’t discover her hiding place. Too late.

She’s crying and it breaks my heart to guess what’s she’s imagining. “You’ll go away if you know what’s good for you.”

“I’ve already told you I know what’s good for me, and it’s you. Always you. That’s never going to change.” I want to go to her but I’m afraid she’ll push me away.

“Really? Because you sort of looked like you thought Lana might be good for you a few minutes ago.”

“Does it make sense that I would walk away from you and **** around with Lana two seconds later when you could come out of the bedroom at any second and see me? Come on, L. You know that was a total setup. Just like her cornering you outside.” She doesn’t reply but she doesn’t dispute my allegation, either. “Babe, it’s impossible for you to wrap your head around the malicious things Lana is capable of because your heart is so good and pure. Trust me when I say she’s venomous. And determined. She’ll do anything to get what she wants.”

“She wants you.”

“And you too.”

She looks confused, as she should be. “What?”

“I’m not the only one she’d like to have. She proposed a threesome.” She looks as though she’s waiting to hear me say if I accepted or declined the offer. ****, I can’t believe she’s at a point where I have to confirm that. “I said no.”

Lana has successfully ****ed me after all.

“I think there’s been a lot of misunderstandings tonight and I want to clear them up.” I drop to my knees in front of L and take her hands. “I don’t want Lana, even though she tried to make it appear as though I did. I love you. You’re the only one for me.”

“That may very well be the case but I’m not ready to say all is well and get over what just happened.” She looks down as tears fall from her eyes. “I’m just so … damn mad.” Her words convey anger but her tears, along with the sob that follows, tells me she’s something else—in pain.

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How did it come to this? I didn’t do anything wrong yet I feel like a bastard. My wife is upset and crying and I don’t know how to fix it.

The car’s headlights shine on us when Daniel pulls into the drive and I ask if she’s going to let me come home with her. She has a habit of making me leave when she’s angry. She doesn’t answer immediately and my heart pounds. She sighs. I know she probably wants space but I don’t want to be away from her tonight. I think being apart could cause more harm than good. “Please don’t make me stay somewhere else tonight.”

She reaches for her purse and gets up, leaving me on my knees. “Come on. Daniel’s waiting.”

She doesn’t utter a single word on the drive home—and neither do I. I can only guess what she’s rolling around in her head right now, but I’m predicting it isn’t good.

We arrive at the apartment—our temporary home while visiting Sydney—and I can’t believe this is how we’ve spent our first New Year’s Eve as husband and wife. We walk toward our bedroom, me following her, and I totally expect her to slam the door in my face or tell me to find another place to sleep. She doesn’t.

She’s a little unsteady from Evan’s painkillers so she leans over to hold the footboard as she kicks off her pumps. “I hope you know you’re not putting your hands on me tonight.”

I look at the time and see it isn’t yet midnight, but it’s close. This isn’t how I want our first year to end so I decide to take a leap—one I hope doesn’t land me on my face. “It’s almost midnight. I don’t want to go into next year like this.”

Tonight’s events aren’t small, so I’m sure Laurelyn has things she needs to say. She’s hurt and her wound can fester, causing damage to our marriage. As her husband, it’s my responsibility to contain this infection known as Lana.

“We have five minutes before we begin two thousand fourteen. I want you to take these last moments to say anything you’d like. Rant and rave. Kick and scream. Tell me you hate the way I’ve lived and what I’ve done in the past. Tell me if I’m ****ing up this marriage. Say or do whatever you feel you need to so we can move beyond this night. Let me have it good, babe.”

I’ve stunned her speechless.

This is probably the stupidest idea I’ve ever had. She’s incredibly hurt and angry so if she takes me up on this offer, I should expect her to say harsh things. But I want to give her this outlet. She needs it. “There’s nothing you can say to make me unlove you, so go for it without looking back.”

“I’m not doing it unless you do the same. Tell me the things you’d like to say yet choose to hold inside.”

Is it possible to make these confessions, not discuss them, and move on as if nothing happened? It suddenly feels like a challenge—a game of truth or dare—and is no longer about Lana. This is something more and goes deeper than tonight’s events.

Women are so different from men. We are pissed off for a little while but get over it quickly. Women have long memories and hold grudges so this might not go well for me. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

“I can always handle anything you say, as long as it’s the truth.” I get this now. She wants my true confessions.

“I’ll agree but only if you swear you’ll have no regrets. You can’t dwell on anything I say.”

She’s terrified but excited. At least that’s what I think I see in her eyes. “Do your worst. Tell me your fears and the demons you hide.”

I set the timer on my phone. “A three-minute confession. We squeeze in whatever we can in a hundred and eighty seconds. Say it, get it off your chest, and move on without discussion or explanations. When the timer ends, it’s a new year, a new start. Do you agree?”

“Yes.”

I press start on my phone. “Go.”

She looks at me, bewildered. “I don’t know if I can. I’m afraid.”

She’s overthinking this so I’ll go first—starting with her sorry-ass mother and father. “If your parents ever treat you poorly again, I’m telling them to **** off, especially your mum. She really pisses me off.” Laurelyn’s eyes grow large and she doesn’t reply. I don’t think that’s where she expected me to start. “If you don’t say anything, that means you forfeit your turn and I get to go again.”

“I despise what you did with those first twelve women because of Lana. I understand it’s irrational for me to be angry about things that happened before you knew me, but it doesn’t stop me from being pissed off every time I think about it—which is often.” This isn’t surprising to hear. I often think about her being with Blake, as well, although their relationship came before us.

Speaking of Blake … this grievance is all on me but she should know the way I feel. “I’m furious with myself because I was tending to business instead of being with you the night Blake attacked you. I have to work very hard to not see the image of him on top of you with your dress shoved up to your waist.” I look down because I can’t look at her when I say the next part. It’s bad. “And sometimes I wish I hadn’t heard your voice telling me to stop because I wanted to kill him. I still do.” I’ve probably scared the **** out of her, but damn, that feels good to get off my chest.

She doesn’t give me time to dwell on what she thinks of hearing me say I want to kill Blake. “I worry you’ll miss the thrill of being with other women.”

I’d like to address that one—to tell her it isn’t possible to ever be thrilled by the thought of being with a stranger after having something so real and true with her. But what we’re doing now isn’t about explanation; it’s about confession. “I worry that one day you’ll figure out I’m not worthy of your love.”

“I’m terrified you’ll decide I’m too complicated and not worth the trouble I cause you.” Never. She’s a complication I can’t live without.

“I’m afraid you’ll never get over my past and what I did with those other women.” I’m worried more than ever now because she has admitted she thinks of them often.

“I’m still pissed off that you almost added a fourteenth to your list of companions.” Can’t blame her for being pissed off about that one—what a total ****-up on my part.