Crossing the Line (20 page)

“I don’t want to go back upstairs.”

His thumb swept over her cheek, wiping away the renegade tear that’d escaped. “Then let’s go.”

She slid into place behind him, looped her arms around his waist and pressed her cheek to his back. The broken-in leather was soft and warm against her skin. She inhaled deeply, let its scent—one of Derrick’s scents—fill her head.

She hugged him tighter when they began to move, closed her eyes and relaxed against him. The rhythm of the bike and the solidity of his body soothed her, as they always did. She didn’t have to ask where they were going. Didn’t have to look at their surroundings or pay attention to the turns he made. Her heart knew where he was taking her. Taking them. They were going home.

* * *

Another step accomplished. He had her on the back of his bike, heading to their house, and he’d do whatever it took to make sure this was a one-way trip. He’d given up on the idea of a higher power a long time ago—what god would let a child suffer the way he and Chris had—but right now he was willing to give praying a shot. If talking, praying and the gift he had lined up didn’t work, well…he wasn’t opposed to wife-napping. Instead of taking her back to Megan’s apartment, he’d head for Niagara Falls. Get a room at that little motel where he’d proposed. Lock the door, close the blinds and wear her down in a dozen wicked ways. Maybe he’d do that anyway.

He pulled into their driveway, turned off the bike and waited for her to get off the back. She didn’t. Didn’t move a muscle. She wasn’t melted against him anymore, either—her whole body had tensed up. And that was no fucking good.

“If the timer’s going on my hour, I’m going to insist you slide your sweet little ass off the bike and go inside.”

She sighed and got off, her small hands shaking as she worked the snap and buckles on her chinstrap. She managed it, though, and handed him the helmet.

He stowed both in the cupboard, watching her eyes go wide when he locked it, part of his “closing up shop for the night” routine.

“Like I told Megan, I’m hopeful.” Oh yeah, there it was—the pretty smile he’d been stupid enough to think he could live without. He wanted to scoop her up and kiss that mouth so badly he ached. For now, he settled for her hand, squeezing it when she didn’t pull away. “Come inside. Let me show you how hopeful I am.”

“No guarantees, remember?”

“Who’re you reminding, baby—me, or you?” A bit early in the game for teasing, but what the hell.

“Both.” She untwined their fingers and leaned against the front of the house while he unlocked it. She stared at the open door, then at his face. “I need you to promise that once we’re inside, you’ll keep your hands to yourself.”

“I promise.”

“I mean it, Derrick.”

Jesus, how was he supposed to keep a straight face when she used that adorable, schoolteacher tone that she truly believed worked on him the way it did on five-year-olds? “Yes, ma’am.”

She slipped inside. Didn’t take off her shoes or hang her jacket in the hall closet. Just walked through to the living room and perched on one end of the couch. As if she was a guest, not his wife of eight years and co-owner of this house and everything in it. Shit. Time to get serious.

Only she beat him to the job. “You cheated on me.”

“I didn’t. Not once, not in any way.”

“How can you look me in the eye and say that after I found condoms in your pocket? Oh wait, I already know that answer to that—because we weren’t sleeping in the same bed anymore. Only that wasn’t my choice. You didn’t give me a choice or a chance, you decided our fate on your own, then went out and cheated on me.”

“You’re right about not giving you a choice in my decision, but I promise you I didn’t cheat.”

“I can’t believe you just did that…”

Jesus, her face. So pale, and the tears—shit. “Did what?”

“Used a promise to try to cover up a lie.”

“I’m not covering up a lie. I did not cheat on you.” More tears rolled down her cheeks. Fuck, not how this was supposed to go. “I’ll prove it to you.” A quick trip to their bedroom and he took the spot beside her. First thing he gave her was a box of tissue. Once she’d wiped the waterworks away, he handed her the second box.

“Oh my god, why would you give me this?”

“Count them.” He pushed the condom box back into her hands when she shoved it away. “Dump them onto the couch and count them.”

She tipped it, stared at the individual, blue squares that landed on the leather cushion. She didn’t touch them. Instead, her eyes moved over the packets, silently tallying. “Twelve.”

“How many come in that box?”

Her eyes darted to the discarded container. “Twelve…” All that beautiful, soft hair fell forward, hiding her face as she shook her head. “It doesn’t prove anything—you could have replaced them,” a big, single sob bubbled up, “or this could be a whole new box because you used all the other ones.”

Shit, that hadn’t even crossed his mind. “Look at me, baby.” No change. “Please. I want to tuck your hair behind your ear and wipe your tears, but I promised not to touch you. Please look at me. Look in my eyes and know I’m telling you the truth.”

Slowly, her face lifted. Hurt swirled in those beautiful amber eyes. All of it caused by him.

“The night we ran into Jer at JT’s, I got utterly wasted, as you know.” Bits and pieces of the wee hours had finally surfaced. How she—and Jer—had cleaned him up when he’d puked, several times. “But when I told him to fuck you, everything seemed so clear. Like it was happening outside of reality, but crystal clear. And it made some crazy kind of sense at the time. The next morning, when I overheard the two of you in the kitchen, I was sure you’d taken me up on the opportunity.”

“I didn’t.”

“I know that now. But I was pretty messed up at the time.” If only he’d talked to her about all of this weeks ago. What a fucking disaster. At least he had a chance to explain. To make it right. “Every time I closed my eyes, even to blink, I saw that douchebag lying on the pavement in the parking lot, staring up at me. Then it’d get all twisted and I’d see my dad looming over me while I was the one on the ground. I just wanted all the shit rolling around in my head to go away. So I kept drinking ’til it did.”

She cupped her hands over her mouth. “I pushed you to go out that night—I should have known how deeply the school incident affected you, instead of thinking it was something my fun-loving husband could simply snap out of. I’m so sorry.”

“Not your fault. We both know I’m capable of saying no to you, that I don’t always give you what you want, even when you want it more than anything in the world.” Which brought them back to the night everything changed. “Maybe I was still wasted the next morning, I don’t know. But the stuff I heard…” He shook his head at his pigheaded stupidity. “I should’ve just barged in and asked what the fuck was going on. I thought you’d fucked Jer, and more than that, I thought you were planning to get together, permanently. I thought you were pregnant with his kid.”

“Wow, his swimmers must’ve been pretty darn aggressive for me to know I was knocked up less than twelve hours later.”

The sarcasm caught him off guard. Made him laugh. “Yeah, well, I’m no biology expert.”

“I suppose that’s true. You’re more of an anatomy expert.”

“Only yours, baby.”

She leaned against the back of the couch and sighed. “Tell me the rest.”

“My head was all over the place after that. I wanted you to choose me, stay with me.”

“There was no choice, I’ve always wanted you.”

“Not saying it made sense.” He shrugged, shook his head. “I went to your school to surprise you with some daisies, was gonna plead my case. I was parked across the street, and I saw the two of you talking outside your classroom—it looked pretty damn cozy. I was convinced we were done. That you were holding off on breaking up until you thought I was more stable. So I decided to help you along. I acted like a total dick all week. But you didn’t end it, didn’t even call me out on my behavior. You just kept being all sweet and considerate. That’s why I planted the condoms and made sure you found them. Almost didn’t go through with it at the last minute.”

“Why did you?”

He glanced at the ring on her finger—the one he’d given her for her birthday. “Remember on the beach? I told you if the day came when what we have isn’t enough, I’d let you go.”

“Oh, Derrick.”

“I thought you were better off with Jeremy. That you wanted to be with him.”

“And now, do you still think that?”

“Part of me’s always going to think you’d be better off without me. I’m working on the broken parts, but I don’t know if I’ll ever be completely fixed.” He scrubbed a hand over his beard and got a twinge of a smile when her eyes followed his fingers longingly. “As for the other part, I know it’s me you want—or wanted, before I fucked up exponentially.”

“I still want you,” she whispered.

Best four words in the world. He leaned in, kissed her sweet, soft lips. She gasped, then sighed. Then moaned. He pulled back while he still had the power to do so. But damn, it about killed him.

“You promised no touching.” Her tone chastised, but her glassy eyes indicated otherwise.

“Wrong,” he nuzzled the side of her neck, “I promised to keep my hands to myself. I made no promises about my other body parts.”

“Oh, I see…getting off on a technicality…”

“I’d rather get off on you.” He worked his way lower, using his teeth to pull her jacket aside so he could nibble her tits through her t-shirt. “Inside you would be even better.” He dropped to his knees and pushed between her legs. He made a show of clasping his hands behind his back—keeping his promise. He sealed his mouth over the bottom of her zipper, exhaling so she’d feel the heat through her jeans. So she’d squirm. “Right here, deep as I can get. But not yet.”

“W-what?” She stared, open-mouthed and wide-eyed, as he returned to his feet.

“Not done trying to win you back.” He stuffed his hands in his pockets and nodded toward the rear of the house. “C’mon. Next thing is out back.”

She stood, tugged her little jacket back into place. “For the record, you were doing just fine on the couch.”

A big old grin stretched his mouth wide as it could go. He hadn’t smiled like this in weeks and damn, it felt good. But he couldn’t assume things were on solid ground because of a little making out. They’d always had the physical part locked down. He had to be sure her head and heart were on the same track.

He paused at the back door and met Hanna’s beautiful eyes. “Do you believe me about the condoms? Think about how I answered your questions that night—no admission or denial. I wish I hadn’t hurt you that way, but I swear I never cheated.”

“I believe you.” She caught one of his hands and laced their fingers together, shrugging and smiling when he raised his eyebrows. “What?
I
didn’t make a promise to keep
my
hands to myself.”

“Not gonna complain about you touching me.”

“Hmm…I think I may just take that as a challenge for later.”

“You’re staying.”

“Well, duh.”

His face actually fucking hurt from smiling. “I love you. I’m gonna spend every day of the rest of my life showing you how much.”

“Start by showing me what’s behind door number one. I’m dying to see how you planned to woo me in the backyard.” She squeezed his hand. “Keeping in mind that I can’t get arrested for indecent exposure, especially now that I’m going to be a social worker.”

What the—

“Are you upset? I know we should have discussed the timing, made the decision together. I was going to surprise you with my acceptance letter from the university, but then—”

“Everything went to hell.” Fuck the no-hands rule. He pulled her into the circle of his arms, where she belonged. “I’m sorry. And so proud of you, baby, always.”

She looked up at him then. Eyes full of love and hope, the way they should always look. The way he’d make sure they stayed, from here out.

“I’m sure I can pick up a roster of tutoring clients that’ll replace a chunk of my lost teaching salary, but when my tuition is due next fall, and with the textbooks I’ll need, we’re going to be hemorrhaging money for a couple years…”

“I don’t give a shit about the money. We’ll work out the finances part. It’ll be fine. You’ll be great.” In the back of his brain, something clicked. “This is what you and Jer were talking about that morning. The thing you didn’t want him to tell me. The big life change in nine months that was going to make you happier than you have been the past few years.”

A big O formed on her lips. “That’s why you thought I was pregnant…” She hugged him tighter and buried her face against his chest. “I stayed three years ago and I’m staying now. I wanted
you
ten years ago. It’s
you
I want now. I wish you’d stop worrying about that.”

He kissed the top of her head, kept his lips pressed there for a good long minute. “Speaking of wishes, let’s go out back.”

The temperature had dropped a few degrees and a cool, October breeze greeted them. It also rustled the boughs of the present he’d had delivered earlier.

“Oh my god, Derrick…” She fingered the delicate, trailing branches. Circled the pot where he’d set it on the deck. “You got me a wishing tree. I love it—I love you.”

“It’s a dwarf willow, but don’t be afraid to wish big, baby. You’d be surprised what might come true.”

Epilogue

The house couldn’t get any cleaner or tidier. The scent of the mac’n’cheese casserole in the oven filled the kitchen. Hanna went room to room, doing one more visual sweep as she made her way to the front door. Everything looked perfect.

A beautiful May day greeted her when she stepped outside. Two male voices and clinking metal drifted from the carport. Wonderful sounds most of the time, but enough to send the butterflies in her stomach into fluttering overdrive at the moment. She cut across the lawn, ready to give them both what-for, until they came into view. Then it was all she could do to keep her heart from leaping out of her chest.