‘It’s not too late to change your mind, Lily,’ Josh said, his fingers threading through my hair and holding my face close to his. ‘It’s your call.’
‘I want this, Josh. We need this ... for closure.’
His jaw tightened. ‘Just one chance to get it right,’ he murmured, his hands sliding down to my waist. They slipped beneath the hem of my jumper, and I gasped as his work-callused palms moved slowly up my ribcage and cupped my breasts. This time I was the one who groaned. He released me from my bra and thenthe rest of our clothes were being tugged and yanked off, to end up all over the treehouse floor.
He was as perfect as a sculpture, and when his eyes travelled over me, I’d never felt so beautiful, because I don’t think anyone had ever looked at me the way that Josh was doing.
‘Tell me what you want,’ he said, his voice hoarse with desire. I ran my hands down his back. And I didn’t compare the breadth of his shoulders or the muscular contours to the man I’d chosen to marry instead of him.
‘I want everything. I want a whole lifetime of making love to you in this one night.’
I loved the way his eyebrows rose at that.
I loved the way he grabbed a handful of sheepskin rugs and laid them on the wooden floor, before gently pressing me down upon them.
I loved the way his fingers found the place that was hot and wet and so ready for him. Sanity returned for one brief second as he positioned himself between my thighs. ‘Condoms,’ I said, hating to shatter the moment, but knowing I had to.
‘We’re good,’ Josh said, his fingers still driving me half-crazy with desire. ‘I took care of things several years ago.’
I knew that should have saddened me, that he felt so strongly about having children that he’d made that decision, but all I could think of was the burning need within me. A need that made me cry out like a wild creature when he finally entered me.
It was everything I had imagined.
It was like nothing I had ever imagined.
Chapter Thirty
His hands felt cold as he reached for mine in the chilly morning. He’d already loaded my bags into the boot of the car and had scraped away the thick rime of ice that had formed overnight on every window. The engine was ticking over, and the car looked warm and inviting, but it was still the last place on earth I wanted to go.
‘Shit. This is hard,’ Josh said, his eyes watering in the icy wind. Or maybe the weather had nothing to do with it. I was already several steps ahead of him. There was a lump in my throat as large as a piece of coal, and tears were spiking the ends of my lashes.
I nodded. Because I had no words left. I’d used them all up the night before. We both had.
‘You know how to get back to the motorway?’
‘I’ve got the route on my phone.’
He inclined his head. There were dark circles beneath his eyes that matched the ones I’d seen in his bathroom mirror. We were like a pair of pandas, about to get separated when one of them was shipped off to a zoo. I almost smiled at that one. Almost.
The cold had eventually driven us down from the treehouse and back to his cabin. I could scarcely remember the walk through the forest. I knew it had taken longer than the journey there, not because we’d taken a detour, but because it was impossible to gomore than twenty feet without the sudden need for one last hug, one last kiss, one last goodbye.
‘Maybe ... maybe there could be a way ...’ I’d broached hesitantly when the lights I’d left on in his cabin finally came into view.
Josh’s arms had tightened around me as he pulled me against him once again.
‘Don’t, Lily. Don’t pin your hopes on me, or us. You’ve been hurt too much already. Don’t let me be the one who’ll do it again.’
It was too dark for him to see the tears coursing down my face.
‘Perhaps you won’t hurt me, and I won’t hurt you. Maybe there’s a way of fixing this that we just haven’t figured out yet.’
The moon came out from behind a cloud. I really wished it hadn’t because I would rather not have seen the pain on his face.
‘You shouldn’t change your dreams because they’re different from mine.’
I rested my head against him, wondering how in all the years I’d known him I’d never once realised how perfect a fit we were. The hollow of his neck cushioned my forehead. I felt the brush of his lips grazing my brow.
‘Somewhere out there, there’s a perfect guy for you. And he’s going to be strong and healthy, and he’s going to want to give you all the things that Adam and I couldn’t. There’ll be a houseful of children, and then grandchildren, and fifty years from now, when you’re sitting there holding his old, wrinkled hand, you’ll realise that walking away from me now was the best thing you ever did.’
