Always In: The Shore Series Book 2 (38 page)

He wipes at them immediately and backs away from me.

"And you'll be happy? You'll be happy with him and his little boy? You'll be a mom to his son and that will make you feel complete?"

"That's not the only reason, Cruz."

"Then what is? ’Cause you love him? Tell me, Harlow. I want you to say the words.”

I walk away into my living room.

"Cruz, I’m not discussing this with you. You should go." I point to the door but he's not having any of it.

He walks over to me, the sound of his heavy feet hitting every inch of wood flooring. He picks me up by my ass and holds my back. He licks my neck as I struggle to get out of his hold. He grabs the back of my head and forces his lips to mine. Dueling begins, tongue against tongue. I try and find my sweet spot to rub against his growing erection. I find my rhythm and we are nothing more than tangled hands and tongues. I ride his dick with just two barriers of clothing between us. I can't dull this ache. I can't stop myself from falling over and over again. This attraction is overwhelming and I need to feel him - all of him. This may be the last time I ever feel his lips on mine, feel his skin on my skin, and get to revel in his touch. I’m desperate for him. At this moment, I throw caution to the wind and tell him what I feel. My body reacts to him so much and I have lost all sense of control.

I breathe against his hot mouth. "Fuck me, Cruz. Please, I’m begging you. Please just fuck me."

He undoes the drawstring of my sweat shorts and slides the material past my ass as I link my hands together keeping a firm grasp on the back of his neck. I watch him watch me. His eyes are pools of blue, but turn dark as night with his lust for me and what he's about to give me. He undoes his pants and let's them fall to his ankles. In one, hot, smooth move, he impales me and we both hang our heads back and moan. Once he's inside me, he pumps into me. I raise my hips up and down to meet his rhythm. I am the music and he is the song. We match and we fit like a puzzle finally fitting. I can't stop kissing his neck, licking his salted flesh, biting his shoulder, as the feeling of him fucking me makes me feel alive, wild, and free. So many emotions fill my head. The need for him to be inside me is overwhelming and I have no control. I lose all sense of it. Where we are, who we are, what time it is, what day it is. I am in another world.

He stops kissing me and holds my head with his large, strong hand. Cruz's eyes focus on mine as he tells me, "Come with me, Turnip. Come with me. Please." I nod at the brink of coming and a few more pumps into my body and I let go. He lets go and I feel him come inside me. I’m floating in a cloud of euphoria. I don’t want the feeling to end.

We come down from our high. My legs are still wrapped around him and I hold his neck and bury my face there. My tears coat his skin and I don't want to let go, but I have to. He holds me so tightly so if I were to let go, his grip on me would not let up. The feeling of our sweaty skin and as he holds me in his arms - I realize this was just like my dream. I remember what it felt like for him to be inside me. I remember. I love him. I’ll always love him.

But I want motherhood like I want my next breath. I want the happy life. The life I always dreamed of. I want little arms wrapped around my neck, I want to kiss the boo-boo of the skinned knees, I want to open the home-made birthday and Mother’s Day cards. I crave it, dream about it, pray for it. And going to England with Daniel and Henry is my chance.

"Stay," he says as his lips are against my shoulder.

"I can't," I say into his neck.

"Please."

"You...you have to go."

I feel him loosen his grip on me as he pulls himself out. I slide down his body and we stand there. Half-naked. Our silence is awkward.

He pulls his pants up and I do the same to mine. He doesn't look at me; he just heads for the door. I follow behind him as best as I can. My legs are weak and my heart is heavy.

He reaches the door. His hand is on it but he turns one last time to me, brushes his fingers across my cheek, over the bridge of my nose, to the other cheek.

I close my eyes and breathe out the words, “I just want to be a mom.”

When he doesn’t respond, I open my eyes and look at him. His expression changes. His eyes glaze over with sadness. He hangs his head, shaking it in defeat, looking as though he has just lost the battle.
I’ve done it to him again.

He takes a deep breath and looks up at me. "I see these freckles in my dreams all the time. I see the blue of your eyes when I close mine. They're implanted in my brain. They always will be. Be happy, Har. Be happy in your life whatever path it takes you down. Always know that you made a difference in my life and for that I'll never forget you."

He leaves. He's gone.

Forever.

***

One week later~

Saying goodbye to your friends and family is hard. It's not supposed to be easy. It comes with emotions and turmoil and is supposed to break your heart. Saying goodbye to Mom and Dad broke me. I shook. I wanted to vomit. I didn't want to let go. But you're supposed to feel that way when you say goodbye. When I said goodbye to the guys, I broke down again. Porter held me for a long time, not saying much, tearing up and telling me how much he loved me. I ran my hand across the top of Max's almost grown-in mohawk. I told him to take care of my girl. He looked at me funny when I said my girl, but I’m pretty sure he knew who I meant.

Saying goodbye to Thea was short. She couldn't deal with it. She told me she loved me, she cried, and then hugged me. I didn't want to let her go, but I’m supposed to feel that way.

Willow Taylor.

The girl who’s as tough as nails wears a suit of armor like no one else. It hides her feelings and closes off her emotions when she wants it to. When she takes it off—well—that's a different story. I’ve seen her cry. She's human underneath the expensive makeup, but she brushes the tears away, telling me it would be a travesty for her mascara to run.

Willow says goodbyes are stupid. She didn't come and see me after we had our girls’ night. She said that was her goodbye. She called, of course, ten times a day, and she told me goodbyes weren't her thing. She'd come and see me in August before school started up again.

I kissed baby Avery and held her in my arms at the last family dinner. She's getting so big so quickly. When I see her again she'll be over a year. I'll miss so much.

Greta and I promised to video chat so I could see Avery every day if I wanted to. Pulling away from my parents’ that night, Craw driving us back to his apartment, I wanted to scream and have him turn the car around for one last hug, one last kiss on the forehead from my dad, one last loving hug from my mom. But I’m supposed to feel like that.

Craw and I stayed up all night talking about our childhood, laughing, eating junk food, and drinking some beers. He filled me in on a few memories I hadn't remembered. I’m glad he did. They were some good ones. Our long conversations mended any hard feelings we had been harboring.

He drives me here to the airport. He walks me to security and from that point on I know I am going to be alone until I meet Daniel in the terminal. Ally flew with Henry first so she could set some things up at the house and pick up Emily's dad from Ireland. She will stay the first few weeks then head back to the States. Craw can't wait for her to get back, but for him it's bittersweet.

He wheels my remaining bags and we check them in. My winter stuff, picture frames, and a few other personal things were sent last week.

We stand here at security. This is the spot we say our goodbyes.

He grabs me and sobs. I hadn't cried until now.

"Har, I love you more than any other person on this planet. You are my rock. My solid. How...how am I going to get along without you?"

My words are muffled because my face is buried in his shirt.

"You'll do just fine. You can come and see me anytime. I'll be back at Christmas and for a few weeks next summer. I'll come visit you in Sandy Cove ’cause I know that's where you'll be. Besides, you have Ally now. She'll occupy your time wisely." I pull back and look at my baby brother's tear-soaked face. I wipe at the dampness and wink at him and he laughs. I hear over the public address system that my plane will be boarding in thirty minutes.

"I better get going. I love you so much, Craw. Thank you for always being by my side. Thank you for being my rock, my solid." We fist pound and I walk away. I look behind me as I walk, watching my little brother cry and wipe at his eyes. This hurts. This hurts so bad. Saying goodbye hurts. But it's supposed to.

I find Daniel and he kisses me hello.

"Hello, beautiful girl. You okay?" His lovely eyes are so full of love for me so I smile at him and nod. We take our seats. Daniel reads the paper and I just sit and look at the sea of people coming and going, greeting loved ones, and saying goodbye to them, too. I see happiness and pain when I look at these strangers. I also see hope and promise and my heart starts to ache a little more with each passing second. Each time the clock gets closer to the time we board, the sharp pain in my chest increases. It's just nerves. I'll be fine. However, as the moments pass, I feel the same sensations in my belly and mind that I felt a few days ago. I felt like I was the missing piece to the puzzle that was put together, and it dawns on me. The solution was in front of me the whole time; I just didn't open my eyes wide enough to see it. This broken brain of mine may not work like it used to, but this heart of mine does.

I grab onto Daniel's hand and clutch it for dear life. He turns to me and I see his gorgeous amber eyes.

"Daniel?"

EPILOGUE

Cruz~

If people had told me I'd feel like this forever, I would have called them big fucking liars. The air will never be the same, the sun will never shine the same, food will give off a different taste. Everything in my life will never be the same. The one thing, the most important thing that will never be the same is my heart. I can't explain this feeling. I can't get past it. I don't think I ever will. There are so many emotions that remain, so much turmoil still lingering, but yet I can't believe where I am. What I’m experiencing. It's like this - you win some you lose some. When you win, like when you're on the boardwalk and play the game where you pop that balloon with a dart, no matter how old you are, you still feel triumphant that you did it. You know that you're going to have your choice of the best prize. But when you lose, holy shit, do you ever. The disappointment and the anger. Yes, I know it's just a stupid game in the end, but you still feel pissed. But it's not really about the winning, or the losing. It's about what you gain by experiencing both. At one time I had the best prize, the Academy Award, the Silver Star, the Purple Heart all rolled into one. Then I lost it. It slipped through my fingers. I had no control. I learned that losing wasn't my fault. I could have thought of a thousand scenarios where the circumstances could have been different. There were things I could have changed, or not have changed. Decisions that I made were not a direct result of what had happened. I stopped beating myself up about it, accepted that no matter what, the path was the path, and for us, it was chosen from day one. The ups, the downs, the misunderstandings, the lies…the hurt, and the love. It was all there and I can't go back and change it now. It's history. Our history. It is what made us, us. I'll never look back or regret a thing. No matter what.

When I won the prize of all prizes, I cherished it. I held it close, protected it for as long as I could, but fear got in the way. Selfishness and insecurity made me lose the only thing that ever mattered in my life.

Giving in to love was the best mistake I ever made. Giving in doesn't mean you just say, “to hell with it, okay.” It means so much more than that. It's giving in to the mistakes you've made along the way, just as much as it's admitting you are not perfect. It's reaching inside yourself and traveling to a place where you have never been, nor never even entertained the idea of visiting. You pull out all those bad things that you thought you were—the bad things you were trying to store deep down—you display the bad so no one could really see what was truly there. You build up the wall and can’t fathom the idea of someone knocking it down, because for years and years you spent that time building it. Then someone walks into your life and boom! Like the Berlin Wall, it crashes down and reveals the real you. Love does that to you. The love of another person.

It took me a long time to realize there was anything good about me. All it took was that one person to make me see. I probably knew the good was in there somewhere. I just needed the boost.

So I gave into love. I found it, I savored it, and then it was gone. I can never say I didn't fight hard enough, that I didn't give it my all. ’Cause I did. I fought for love harder than any war I had ever fought in. I can say I did my best. I gave it my all.

As I lie here in this darkened room with just the street light peeking through the open window and the smell of the sea air wafting in, I can't help wonder how things could have turned out so differently. I’m not going to beat myself up with the “would've, could've, should've.” This is the path that was chosen for me. You can't change destiny, you can't predict the outcome of the game, no matter how many darts you throw at the balloon. It is what it is. Life's a real motherfucker that way. Trust me, I know.

Now I have to live with the outcome of the game. You want to know what hand I was dealt? You really want to know how many balloons I shot a dart at to win?

A helluva lot.

And you want to know another thing? I’m a big, fat liar. Hell, yeah. Winning matters ’cause laying here next to me is my prize.

My Harlow. My Turnip.

She's here with her bare arm across my chest as she snuggles her head into the crook of my shoulder with her silken hair tickling my chest as she breathes in and out. Our legs are linked together like some puzzle, and the smell of her, the fucking smell of her - I'll never get tired of it.