Then he blinked, mumbled, “Fuck it,” and she was in his arms.
They kissed like it was their last chance, a tangle of tongues, bodies angling for best possible access. Joel made a low growling sound in the back of his throat as he devoured her in a way she hadn’t experienced before, his whole body enveloping her in the embrace. Fingers combing through her hair, skimming down her back, squeezing her ass while pressing her closer. Mouth on her jaw and neck, tracing her collarbone before working up to her swollen lips.
Heat flooded every corner of her until she trembled with need. When he wrenched himself away from her, she cried out in protest and then launched herself onto him for more. And again, they consumed each other, like the four years starvation was insatiable now and they were ravenous.
“Lucy,” Joel gasped between kisses. His palm skimmed up her shirt, around her rib cage, along her breast. “This isn’t supposed to go like this.”
“Yes, it is,” she gasped. “It’s supposed to be exactly like this.” Her hand dove to the front of his sweatpants and shegroaned when she felt his imprint there, a hard ridge under soft material. She felt the phantom sensation of his cock buried inside her. The ache between her legs was pounding for it.
A groan rose between them, but she was too far gone to place who it came from.
“No!” Joel wrenched himself away, leaving her bereft and throbbing. His breath was heaving as he glared at her. “Not like this. Not before we’ve talked about things.”
Her brain rallied to catch up with his damn reasoning, but then lagged in a shockingly uncharacteristic betrayal. Where was her sanity? “We don’t need to talk.”
“We do,” he insisted, hauling her back, cocooning against his chest. “We do.”
“Do we?” She wasn’t sure she could. Some things were impossible to talk about. Too painful. Too gut-wrenching.
“I have to, Lucy.” He sounded desperate. Pleading. “Ihave to.”
Tears flooded her eyes, because she knew she would talk for him. She’d dig through the rubble of her greatest heartache and discuss it with him. For him. Because she loved him. And it was achingly clear that wasn’t going away anytime soon.
“Okay,” she whispered, eyes downcast, heart reeling with the cacophony of emotions splitting her chest in two. She needed time to prepare, to organize the chaotic grief she’d been carrying all these years. “Can I just have a little more time.”
“For what?” He leaned back, his brow furrowed, the gray in his eyes gathering like a storm.
“I know, I know.” She saw his meticulous patience waning. And she couldn’t exactly blame him. “But I don’twant to dump four years’ worth of emotion on you. I want to be thoughtful.”
For a long moment, Joel said nothing. Then he dragged her back toward him, his lips pressing her forehead, his heart thundering under her palm. “Tomorrow then. Think about what you want to say, Luciana, and we’ll talk.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Sleep was going to be impossible. Lucy knew it. Post-it notes were strewn on the bed around her. Each one with different things she wanted to say to Joel. Tightness pulled at her lower belly. God, she felt sick.
The sexual attraction between her and Joel was a given. They’d started their relationship on a night of Vegas fueled sexcapades, and that tension had never ended for her. Joel was the only one she fantasized about. There’d never been anyone else. She’d stayed faithful to him like she’d never taken his ring off her finger.
But it was their connection underneath the chemistry that had returned over the last two weeks, like air blown on the embers of a dying fire. The time between them in a new city, under different circumstances, had coaxed old feelings back into life.
And if they had any chance at all, he was right, they had to talk.
She pulled one of the notes off her comforter, staring at the word until her vision blurred.I miss Luca.
The baby. A little boy. When Joel finally arrived at thehospital, after she’d lost their son, she insisted they name him before she was discharged. She couldn’t stomach the thought of leaving without doing so, as if naming him would secure his place in the universe, a tangible someone to remember and talk about. So they did.Luca. But it turned out they didn’t talk about him. She could never speak his name without feeling like she was dying inside.
She’d carried him for sixteen weeks. The same amount of time they’d been happily married. The most perfect sixteen weeks of her entire existence. When she lost him, the despair had consumed her, and she pushed everything away, including and especially Joel. At the time, it had seemed easier to go back to how life was before. Before Vegas, before their wedding, before her pregnancy and their perfect dream world in the penthouse on the hill. The secret they’d kept made it easier to slip back into her old routine, so she had. As though none of it had existed. As if the sixteen weeks had all been a hallucination.
Except it hadn’t been. Those weeks of quietly laying the groundwork to build their family had halted when Joel left. It had been ignored and neglected, but it still stood. And maybe now was the time to start building again.
Setting down the note, she got up and wandered her room, wondering if they could rebuild something on top of that abandoned foundation that was stronger than a house of cards this time? What if they could try again, but better, stronger? Fewer secrets, more faith.
She stopped at the bedroom door. Was Joel awake right now? Was his mind racing between the past and present like hers? Or did he already know exactly what he needed to say? Probably. He wasn’t exactly the cue card kind of guy.
With a frustrated sigh, she glared at the post-its stuck to her bed. Who was she even kidding? There was no way toprepare for something like this. She was putting it off. Again.
No wonder he was growing impatient with her. Well, sue her for trying to protect the scar on her heart a little bit longer. She’d been completely shattered when she lost Luca. For months she felt like a porcelain doll that had been glued back together after cracking. Why would she want to go through that again? The fear was paralyzing.
But if not now, when? And at what cost?
