Broken (29 page)

“You two had sex last night, didn't you?”

“Why'd ya say that?” I asked, trying to hide my smile.

“I could always tell when he scored. He has this spring in his step the next day.” He indicated to Adam with his chin. “He's got a spring.”

“Do ya have a spring, babe?” I called to Adam.

“Apparently,” he replied, exaggerating the bounce in his step.

Will's eyes sparkled with gratitude. “Well, we can cross that one off the list of things to worry about.” He gave me a cheeky wink. “Well done, love.”

I couldn't help giggling. Yes, well done me, and well done Adam. He had overcome his fear of failing, and in the process, it seemed, healed a little piece of his soul at the same time. He was still the man I loved; I had never doubted it, but he had. Maybe we couldn't have any more children, but gazing affectionately down at Brody, I was perfectly content with what I had—a gorgeous baby boy and the man of my dreams.

Will rose from his chair and came to sit beside me on the sofa. And it appeared I had a houseguest who had no intention of leaving.

“How long ya stayin'?” I asked casually as I reluctantly placed my bundle of joy in his uncle's arms.

“However long Adam needs me.” He glanced over at Adam. “How much longer do you need me, bro? Your girlfriend wants to kick me out.”

Adam chuckled. “I'll help you pack.”

I felt terrible. I wasn't kicking him out, just trying to get a feel for the situation. “You don't have to leave. I was just askin'. Really, you can stay as long as you like.”

“Did you hear that, little brother? I think she's keen on me. Just asked me to stay.”

I couldn't win, so I gave up. He was welcome to stay, and by the look of things, that might be for quite some time.

Adam seemed to have spurts of energy and then times when he needed to rest, so I let him set his own timetable. We rearranged the bedroom again so the easel could be set back up, this time facing away from the lighthouse toward the other end of the beach. Slowly but surely, we adapted to each other's routines.

I hadn't written anything since having Brody; there never seemed to be time. Knowing that Adam was coming back only six weeks after the birth, I had pushed myself to try to lose as much of the baby weight as I could, so every spare minute was spent rolling on the floor like a slater bug, attempting to do crunches. Of course, that was when I'd thought Adam would be barreling through the door looking all muscular and gorgeous. He was still gorgeous and always would be in my eyes; his build and wasted frame didn't seem to register on my radar, just as my baby weight didn't register on his.

We loved each other, pure and simple. Our percentage of body fat didn't matter; it was what was in our hearts that tied us together.

“What are you working on at the moment, Evie?” Adam asked over lunch one day. “I haven't seen you tapping away at the laptop since we got here.”

The four of us had been living together for nearly three weeks, and with the extra help with Brody, I knew I could fit in a couple hours a day of writing if I wanted to. I just didn't know what to write about.

I shrugged. “I've got a few ideas, but none of the characters are speakin' to me.”

“Do you hear voices, love?” Will's eyes glowed. “We might have to lock you up.”

As quick as lightning, Adam's arm sprang out, his fist connecting with Will's arm.

“Ow, fuck, man.” Will rubbed his bicep while I bit my top lip to stop the laugh that wanted to burst free.

“You can make fun of whatever you like, but not Evie's writing.” Adam's eyes took me in and I gave him a subtle nod. “You should get back into it. When you're ready, of course.” He nodded at Will. “We can look after Brody to give you some peace to concentrate.”

Will grumbled about his arm for the rest of the afternoon. I wasn't sure how painful it had really been, but the sparkle in Adam's eye every time Will complained about how hard the punch was had me sending him a silent thank-you hug.

So I set up my laptop at the end of the dining table, and flicked through some notes I had written on several works-in-progress. As was my process, I needed to not think about the story, to have the story come to me, so with Adam and Will both minding Brody, I ran myself a bath and climbed in to let the outline of the story take shape.

All my stories so far had been based in various states in America, but seeing as I was now living with two Englishmen, maybe it was time to branch out and go abroad. I could ask them about romantic locations around England and scenery that was worth mentioning, and I knew Adam would be more than happy to share experiences and customs with me.

By the time I climbed from the tub, I had a location and a rough outline to work with and was excited to get started on the story.

Entering the bedroom wrapped in a towel, I quickly dove back behind the door when I realized both Adam and Will were standing at the changing table, fussing over Brody. Brody needed changing—that was obvious, I could smell it from across the room—but the sight of two grown men trying to change one little baby's diaper had me covering my mouth to muffle my giggling. Adam was doing well, albeit standing as far away from the table as he could get while still being able to reach. Will was at the other end, trying to amuse Brody while pinching his nose to ward off the stench, and occasionally dry-retching.

Adam pushed up his sleeves and unfastened the snaps on Brody's onesie. “Are you ready?” he asked, his voice serious.

“Ready.” Will took a gasping breath, then held it.

Adam had the diaper off, bagged, and tied in record time, reminding me of a Formula One pit stop, then tossed it to Will who raced from the room, arm outstretched, to the garbage can.

Next came the hard part—getting the tiny little bottom into a clean one. Adam pulled the tabs of the diaper across and picked Brody up, the diaper held for a moment before sliding down his legs.

“Let me try,” Will said, returning to the room and making his way to the business end of the table.

He undid Adam's tabs and redid them, then lifted Brody. The diaper sagged on one side.

“This one's no good. Must be faulty,” he declared, grabbing another from the packet.

I muffled my laughter but Adam heard me, raising his head in my direction.

“We're just changing him.” He grimaced. “I think we copped the worst poo in history.”

I entered the bedroom, going over to see if Will had actually managed to get the diaper on.

“No, that was pretty normal actually.”

“Really?” They both looked at me. “How could one little guy have so much inside him?”

“Here, let me.” I was certainly no expert, but after ten weeks, I could change a diaper with one hand in a matter of minutes.

Lifting Brody up, I gave him a cuddle, then handed him to his dad. “Thank you for changin' him.”

Adam beamed as he rocked Brody gently. “I want to do as much as I can for him. Be the best dad I can be…for as long as possible.”

I brushed the time reference aside; I would have no talk of the ticking clock. Adam was here and that was all I had the strength to focus on.

“You're a wonderful dad, Adam. I love seein' the two of you together.”

“I never thought it would be possible. To be holding my son in my arms,” he said, gazing adoringly at Brody.

“Miracles can happen.”

An uncomfortable heaviness in my chest woke me. Squinting through bleary eyes, I checked the time. Brody was past due for a feed, but there was no crying. Instead, all I could hear were Adam's soft whispers to his son.

“Look at you, my perfect baby boy. You're everything I've ever wanted,” he cooed. “You look just like your mum. Those eyes that I get lost in. That smile that makes me melt.”

I smiled, Adam's words warming my heart.

“I don't know how much longer I'll last, little man, but I'm going to fight to be here for you and your mum, every step of the way.”

I heard him sniff and knew he was fighting back tears, as was I.

“I wish I could see you grow up to be the man I know you'll be. The man I would be proud to call my son. I love you, Brody, and I love your mum. I have done since I met her.” He paced back and forth by the window, gently rocking Brody in his arms. “I had all these big ideas about being cured and coming back fighting fit so I could marry the woman of my dreams, but that was just a fantasy.”

My eyes stung with tears. He wanted to marry me. Did he still want to, or had that desire gone by the wayside? Surely a little time as his wife was better than no time at all?

So I hatched a plan. A plan that would need Will's help to push it through as quickly as possible.

Adam was in his element, standing by the window, painting. He seemed to get lost in his craft, the time slipping away as he focused entirely on his surroundings. The paintings he had given to the gallery on consignment had sold in a matter of weeks, much to my delight, and when I'd told Dennis that Adam would be returning, he had made me promise to show him pictures of any new work that he did. This had spurred Adam on to find the motivation to paint again, knowing that more of his artistry would be put on show.

The timing was perfect to put my plan into action.

“Will. Will, I need your help,” I whisper-yelled, beckoning him over to the dining table when I was sure Adam was engrossed in his painting.

“Okay, I'll play along.” He tiptoed over comically, glancing over his shoulder to ensure some imaginary character wasn't following him.

Rolling my eyes at him, I pushed the chair beside me out with my foot for him to sit. “I wanna marry Adam.”

“He won't do it.”

I sat back, my eyes narrowed. “Why not? I overheard him talkin' to Brody last night. He said he wanted to.”

He sighed, any trace of humor gone. “He did want to, but that was before he found out the cancer was terminal. Trust me, don't go there.”

My heart sank. “Can ya talk to him? He'll be honest with you.”

He took my hand, squeezing it gently. “Even if he does want to, you realize you could be going from a bride to a widow in a matter of weeks, or months.”

“Or years, Will. We could have years, so let's not waste 'em. I wanna be his wife, even for just a little while. Nothin' would make me happier than bein' Mrs. Evelyn Walker. For Brody to know that his parents loved each other so much that they went through hell on earth to be together.” I set my jaw in determination. “We need to make this happen.”

Will nodded, his brow furrowed. “Do you want to listen in to the conversation? Just so you know for sure where his mind's at?”

Well, that was sneaky. I looked around the kitchen and saw the baby monitor on the counter. It had been switched off for the last five weeks since Adam and Will had arrived, but it gave me an idea.

“Turn the monitor on in the bedroom. I'll be able to hear y'all in there.”

“Okay, but if it sounds at all like he's changed his mind, then you have to drop it. Agreed?” He extended his hand to shake on it.

Reluctantly, I took his hand. “Agreed.”

Will didn't get up. Instead, he rested his elbows on the table, tapping his fingers against the wood.

“Well…go on.” I indicated with a nod toward the bedroom.

“What, now?”

“Yes!” I urged him.

“I can't just go bursting in there. What do you want me to say? Hey, nice painting. By the way, do you still want to marry Evie?”

I smirked. “You're a clever man. I'm sure you'll think of somethin'.”

My heart pounded against my chest as Will took a deep breath before entering the bedroom. The monitor was silent and I willed him to switch it on discreetly before the conversation began. Finally, there was a buzz as red lights flickered on the receiving monitor and I quickly turned the volume down to stem the feedback.

“Hey, man, I like this painting.” Will sounded so stiff, trying to make small talk with Adam.

“Get on with it,” I muttered under my breath.

“It was very thoughtful of Evie to buy you some new painting gear.”

“She's a thoughtful woman.”

“I can see why you fought to get back to her. She's one of a kind, and that Southern accent is adorable. She's the total package.”

Adam hesitated. “Yes, she is.” There were footsteps. When Adam spoke again, his voice was louder, closer to the monitor. “What's going on?”

“What do you mean?”

“What's the sudden fascination with Evie?”

There was a deep sigh. “Have you thought any more about getting married?”

“Nope.”

Wow, short and sweet.

“You said before the surgery you wanted to get better so you could marry, settle down, spend the rest of your life with her.”

“The rest of my life could be a few months, Will.”

“So why not do all the things you want to do now, while you can?”

“Why does it matter to you?”

“Because if I could be married to the woman of my dreams for one day, I'd fucking do it, man.”

I smiled, blinking away the tears.

The bed creaked; someone had sat on it.

“You know if I was well, I would marry Evie in a heartbeat. She's everything I've ever wanted.” He chuckled. “Remember when we used to lie in our beds when we were fifteen or sixteen, piecing together our perfect girlfriend?”

“Jenny Reynold's boobs.”

“Cassie Martin's laugh.”

“Marissa Talbot's lips and eyes.”

“Hmm, but not her nose…too big.”

I giggled, never realizing that guys did that too. I'd thought it was a girl thing.

“Evie's my perfect woman. I wouldn't change one thing about her, looks or personality. But it wouldn't be fair. I can't do it to her. I can't be selfish and tie her to me like that. She's already divorced. I can't make her a widow as well. Besides, I doubt she would want to marry me anyway. Look at me.”