The Fight for Us (27 page)

“What’s wrong?” She’d heard it in his voice the moment he’d said hi.

“Nothing. I just wish I could make my in-laws disappear.”

“Having a hard time?”

“Yeah. I know I’ve made mistakes, but God.” He was growling out the complaint to her, and he instantly felt guilty. It was Christmas. Not time for him to use her as a sounding board. “Ignore me. I’m just frustrated.”

“Don’t say that. I’m glad you called. You know it probably sounds strange, but the fact you’re human makes me feel better about the fact that I am too. I don’t mean to say I’m glad about your mistakes. But…”

“It’s okay. I understand what you’re saying. I don’t judge you, Joss. But I know you judge yourself. And I see how hard you are on yourself.” He did.

She hated the things she’d been willing to do in the past—the things she’d allowed in her life. Hell, it didn’t even take her falling apart on his lap to see it.

“You can be pretty hard on yourself too.”

She was silent after that comment, and he stared at the ceiling above his bed, wishing he could make her materialize. She’d nailed him on that one.

“Yeah. I better go. Can you be here at six forty-five tomorrow morning?”

“Yeah.”

And then he’d been forced to endure the in-laws some more without the protection of his non-judgmental girlfriend.

But now it was Friday morning, and he felt free. It was early yet, and he was just sitting down in the four-season room off his master bedroom to drink his coffee. He was going to see her in less than an hour, and yet, when he looked at his bed, still with nothing but sheets on it, he felt like she was supposed to be there. He could nearly see her curled up on her side, watching him as he sipped his coffee, smiling sweetly at him as their daughters slept in. Were she part of his home, he could have her whenever he wanted. He could wake her in the middle of the night just to make love to her. He could steal her away the moment the girls went to bed and do all sorts of naughty things to her. She belonged in his world. He didn’t really question that anymore, but he wasn’t convinced she understood that. Hell, he’d indulged in the best oral sex of his life to convince her. But was she truly convinced or just accepting him, wanting more but not seeing that he was giving it freely?

When she arrived forty-five minutes later, he’d already set his overnight bag by the door and started the car so it was warming up. He didn’t expect her to walk in without Harper.

“She’s already at Steph’s. Ended up spending the night last night when I told her we were leaving the house at six thirty.”

He chuckled. “Yeah. Nat’s not very happy about being awake right now either. In fact, do you want to go check on her while I take our bags out?”

“Sure.”

He tossed their bags in the back of the Land Cruiser, and when he returned inside, he filled up two travel mugs with coffee. He loaded Joss’s with more cream than the normal person’s arteries could take and one “fake sugar” as she called it, and he left his black—like all the normal people in the world took theirs. He stood at the counter for a moment, but when they didn’t appear, he went in search of them. At the sound of their voices, he stopped dead in his tracks in the hallway to eavesdrop.

“He gave it all to me. Everything of hers that he kept.”

There was silence for a moment, and then he heard Joss’s voice. “You really do look so much like your mother. Absolutely beautiful.”

“Yeah? Well, hopefully my brain is wired better.” There was a subtle angry sarcasm to Nat’s voice. She’d earned it.

“You’re going to be just fine.” The conviction and gentleness in Joss’s tone was so motherly. He didn’t question she was a good mother, but this was a very real conversation she was having with his daughter, and it sent warmth through his entire body when he heard that tone—so gently walking Nat through the conversation.

“Well…” Nat was hesitant as she spoke again. “He said he couldn’t give himself to someone else while he was holding on to her. That’s why he needed me to have her things.” Nat was outing him to some extent, but Isaiah didn’t mind. In some sense, it meant Nat was okay with it.

Joss sniffed, but she said nothing. He was guessing she couldn’t quite figure out how to respond to that one.

“He really likes you, Joss. And I’m glad you’re here.”

The sniffling continued for a moment, and when he finally rounded the corner into Nat’s room, he found them hugging. “We’re going to be late.” He said awkwardly. He’d never felt more like an intruder in his own home in all his life.

They stood, brushing away their tears, and Nat grabbed her bag from the floor, following them out. Within ten minutes Nat was dropped off at Steph’s and Joss and Isaiah were headed to the ferry landing to catch the seven thirty ferry to the mainland. The ferry would take about thirty minutes, and the drive to Duluth another two hours. It promised to be a busy post-holiday shopping day, but these things couldn’t wait—lest he freeze his ass off one more night without sufficient bedding.

They stayed in the car as the ferry crossed, and she turned to him with her coffee cup held between both hands and leaned back against the passenger door. “So, what are we shopping for?”

He watched her for a moment. He hadn’t told her, and he wasn’t entirely sure if withholding the information had been intentional or not at this point. “I need new bedding. I want to re-do the master bedroom, and I want your help. You’re good at choosing artwork, and I like your style. I also just need something new.” What he needed was something that belonged to them—even if she didn’t yet fully belong to him.

She was expressionless as she stared at him. The underlying reason behind his needs was not lost on her, least of all not when she’d just found out he’d purged himself of all things Delia and given it over to his daughter.

“Are you doing this because of me?” Her voice was timid and quiet.

He studied her. “You were right to be upset about the picture—”

“No—!”

“Yes.” He spoke calmly, cutting her off quickly. He could see her guilt, and he didn’t need it. He leaned forward and took her coffee, putting it in the cup holder, and then he guided her face up close to his with a hand to her cheek. “I want
this
. I’m committed to
this
. And
this
just can’t include pieces of my old life lying around hurting you. You deserve better than that—more than that.”

She stared for a moment, and his heart pounded. He’d just laid it on the line for her to some extent, and he was waiting. But then she lunged for his lips, kissing and panting at the same time as she took his mouth. They made the sweetest smacking sound as their lips met, sucked, and parted just to do it all again, and soon, his hand was on her neck, clutching her close to him. His mouth was sore by the time they parted, and she looked at him with her own pink lips showing.

“Well, that was nice,” he said.

And then they looked up. There was a group of people nearby with children staring at them. The children were laughing, and he suddenly knew exactly what Joss felt like every time her cheeks darkened. He waved as he smirked, and Joss sank down in her seat.

“And here I was going to go get a refill on my coffee before we docked. I am not getting out of this car now.” He muttered, and she laughed.

They literally stared at the clock for the remainder of the crossing, avoiding the group who were standing along the railing enjoying their hot chocolate and steaming coffee. When the gate lowered and they were motioned forward, he reached for her hand, squeezing gently.

She slipped off her shoes when the car was warm enough, and she propped her stocking-covered feet on the dash board. She had ridiculously small feet, and he glanced at them as she flipped through a magazine she’d found in the backseat. It was one of Nat’s, and after scanning it for a few minutes, she harrumphed and chucked it into the back.

“I hate this shit! They practically teach our daughters how to have sex in that trash. Never mind the fact they use anorexic models. Who the hell wants to look like Skeletor when they’re naked?” She cried incredulously.

“What bothers you most, babe? The sex or the body image.” It was a real question. He wasn’t disagreeing with her. He was just curious how she’d respond.

“The sex is the most physically dangerous. The body image is the most emotionally dangerous.” She cocked her head to the side as she thought for a moment. “Actually, the sex
can
be just as emotionally dangerous, and the body image
can
be just as physically dangerous, so I’m not sure that’s a question I can answer. These poor girls.” She shook her head.

“Well, we already know
our
sex wasn’t physically dangerous. What about emotionally?” He glanced at her quickly. He was curious how far she’d delve into this with him.

“Could have been.” She glanced over at him too. “Things were a little difficult at first.”

He was starting to think he’d bit off more than he could chew.

She stared out the window for a moment. “That morning at your old house when you…” She glanced at him quickly. “It hurt. I was already humiliated about the night before when Todd had come in while we were having dinner, and that…” She shook her head for a moment, but then when she looked back at him, she smirked. “Then, I accidently had sex with you.”

He chuckled. “That implies I tripped and accidentally impaled you with my cock. I don’t think it was quite that accidental.”

She shrugged as she rolled her eyes. “You say potato…”

“And you just make shit up apparently.” He contemplated saying nothing else beyond that, but it would leave one hell of an elephant sitting in the backseat of the car if he did. He’d wanted to take back those damn words he’d said to her nearly from the moment they’d fallen out of his mouth. “I regret the vast majority of what I said to you that morning. I was feeling weak and ineffectual. I was trying to say something that I just couldn’t figure out how to explain.” He looked at her, and she was studying him closely.

“What were you trying to say?”

He paused for a moment. “You really want to give me the chance to fuck this up again? I was pretty damn certain there was no coming back from that conversation last time. I don’t want to hurt this again.”

She nodded but remained quiet. She actually looked worried.

He took a deep breath, sighing as he released it. “There have been a lot of times since Delia died that life has felt so pointless—like I simply couldn’t get past it all, and so, everything I did was worthless. But I
did
care for you. And I didn’t want to feel worthless and incapable. But there were times I didn’t think I could hack it—that I just didn’t feel strong the way I used to before my life fell apart. I was operating on a hair-trigger with you. I wanted you so much, but I felt like I was ready to snap emotionally, and that morning I did. It was never a matter of
wanting
you or not. I just didn’t think I was capable of it, and I was afraid to try. I was jealous of your fucking ex-husband, I felt inadequate, and I didn’t want to put myself out there, because in that moment I was certain I’d fail.” Well, there it was.

She studied him for a moment, and he glanced at her quickly, returning his eyes to the road and being thankful he had an excuse not to look at her. He took a deep breath. He was laying part of the ugly side of himself out there for her to see, and he wasn’t sure what he was going to get in response.

“I know that sounds pathetic,” he admitted, feeling his heart pounding as he said the words.

She reached for his hand, squeezing gently, but she remained quiet—not forcing him to further prostrate himself to her. He didn’t let go of her hand until they’d reached the city limits of Duluth.

He spent the next two hours with her, listening to her excited chatter. “Oh, this is fabulous,” was heard a lot. “You have to have this,” was quite common too. And he even heard, “No. Absolutely not. You’ve lost your mind. Put it away,” a few times as well.

But when it was all said and done, he ended up with two table lamps for the night stands, a floor lamp for his reading chair in the four-season room, artwork, décor, new bedding, throws, and even a small side table for his reading chair. The whole experience was charming. Watching her browse, study, put back, browse some more, study, keep, bend over and show him her incredible ass, reach up as her shirt lifted and showed him her tummy was all quite a turn-on.

They filled the back of the Land Cruiser and headed to a nearby restaurant. It was a nice Italian joint, and they ended up in a small, intimate, crescent shaped booth. She ordered wine, and he held off. He had something to ask her, and if she agreed he’d need to be sober.

“I’ve changed my mind about something.”

“What?”

“I want to go home. I don’t want to stay in a hotel. If we leave soon we can make the last ferry of the day.”

Her face dropped. “Oh. I just thought—” She shook her head, trying to hide the disappointment. “Why?”

He studied her eyes calmly. “Because I want to take you home with me. Make the bed, and then fuck you on it.” He spoke just as calmly and casually as he was looking at her, but he added a smirk.

Her face might have dropped only moments before, but her sweet pursed lips said he’d made amends for breaking their plans. “Okay.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

Joss was trembling as she stood on the other side of the bed from Isaiah. She’d not been in his bedroom since the day she’d found the picture. She’d actually been afraid to come in here again—feeling more like an intruder than a welcome guest, but he’d pulled her along behind him, and she’d barely paused at all at the door before she let her body accept the forward pull of his hand on hers. He glanced back at her. He’d not missed the subtle stall.

His room looked stark at this point. What artwork there had been was sitting in a box marked for the basement. The grayish beige walls were empty. The dresser top was clear as well, and even the lamps that had been out on the nightstands the last time she was in here were suddenly missing. The bed had only sheets on it, and he stripped them quickly off, tossing them in the box with the artwork too. His refusal to keep anything but his furniture was perhaps a bit overboard, but she couldn’t deny it was comforting.