Maybe he didn’t want to tell me or talking about it bothered him. I’d never wanted to get so close to a person besides my parents, as I did him, and that made me want to know all of him.
He placed his hand on mine that laid on his chest. “I do, I’m just not used to talking about myself. Gemma and I have shared our stories after finding out we were related, but sharing with you feels… different.”
I was puzzled at his comment about me being different and not quite sure how to take it. Was sharing with me bad? I needed to know, so I asked.
“How is sharing with me not the same as Gemma?”
His other hand came up and he ran his fingers gently through my hair. A moan escaped; his touch felt so good. The sounds that had come from me may have triggered another round of sex at another time but that wasn’t what was happening right then. I think we were bonding on even a deeper level.
“Don’t get me wrong. I love and adore my sister in just the short time I’ve known her, but I have known you the same amount of time.” He started playing with my fingers on his chest and I could tell he was nervous. “But there is something about you that makes me feel like I’ve known you all my life or as if I’d been waiting for you all this time, and I worry about how you’ll perceive me more than anyone else.”
As he started talking, my heart picked up speed, and with each word it began to beat more rapidly. By the time he was done, it felt as if it was going to beat straight out of my chest. It bloomed with happiness, but wariness too. I wanted to grab hold of everything I was feeling and take the plunge into whatever was happening between the two of us, but I was scared.
I was lying there asking myself if I truly ever loved my husband and that made me feel sick to my stomach. I think in the beginning, he charmed me and was sweet. I’d been drawn into the fancy dinners, clothes, home, and the business side of him. Not that I needed those things, but it was different so it felt exciting.
Until it wasn’t anymore.
Thomas had changed shortly after we married and not for the better. He wasn’t abusive or necessarily mean, he was into material things, and all about himself. It felt like after we got married, I was more just a trophy for show when needed and then I was ignored. I wanted a family too and he’d promised that would happen, but always put it off. And then came the cheating, embezzling, and lies.
What if Paxton changed the way Thomas had after I gave my whole heart to him? I knew I wouldn’t survive it if he did, or if he decided down the road I wasn’t enough for him. Or what if something bad happened to him because of who was after me?
My mind was spinning out of control with all those thoughts and scenarios and I found myself word-vomiting out loud to Paxton everything I’d been thinking. When I got done I couldn’t look at him when he asked me to. Then he asked again.
“Please look at me, sweetheart.”
I raised my head off his chest and turned to see his face.
“I’m glad you told me how you’re feeling and I know I can promise you that I’d never turn out like Thomas, but you have to believe that enough to take a chance. And as far as something happening to me, I can’t promise it won’t but I swear I will do everything to always come back to you.”
He brushed a lone tear off my cheek with the pad of his thumb. “I’m falling in love with you, Capri. I don’t want to scare you, but God, I hope you’re falling too.”
The vulnerable look and his admission sent waves of longing through me and all my emotions seemed to fall into place. If something was worth having, it was worth fighting for.
And that was Paxton.
“I’m falling too,” I replied breathlessly.
“That’s damn good news, darlin’.”
He placed his hands under my arms and dragged me up his body so I was lying on top of him. And then he claimed my mouth with his and showed me how good it felt to beloved.
* * *
We’d gottena bit off track.
Me asking about his life, turned back around to me and the disclosure of our feelings. But I still wanted to hear about Paxton.
Back in my beloved spot, my head on his chest, I said, “Now will you tell me about growing up?”
I waited a few beats and he started talking.
“Growing up with my mother wasn’t a piece of cake. She could be sweet, loving, and vivacious one day and the next she’d be a bit mean, angry, and full of sorrow.”
He paused for a minute and I waited, letting him continue when he was ready.
“I believe she was doing really well taking her meds when she met my father. I still don’t know all I wished I did because my mom only told me bits and pieces. I learned a few things about my father from Gemma but she was young when she lost him too so in a sense we both lost out on so much.”
His voice cracked and I couldn’t handle lying down anymore. I got up on my knees and sat, legs crossed on the bed beside him, and held his hand in my lap.
