Page 88 of The Devil’s Lair

Isla continues tucking into her breakfast like this is a regular day. I stagger to my feet and reach out a hand to help Rebecca up. Once she’s standing, she flings her arms around my neck, and I encircle her waist. This is a completely different experience from the way I held her last night as she cried, yet just as incredible. I could hold this woman for hours every day of my life and never want to let go.

Isla cleans her plate before dropping her fork with a clang. Rebecca untangles herself from me, a faint blush to her tearstained cheeks as though she’s embarrassed for throwing herself at me.

“All done, sweetheart?” I hold my breath, waiting for another word. Isla just nods. It doesn’t matter, though. She spoke, twice. This is only the beginning.

“Hey, why don’t I take Isla for a half an hour or so while you two talk?”

I look at Rebecca, who nods. “Thank you, Grace. That would be wonderful.”

“Want to go see Vicky and Daisy, Isla?”

Another nod before she takes Grace’s hand and they leave the dining room. Grace closes the door behind us, giving us privacy. I’m sure she’ll get the word out to leave us alone for a little while.

“I can’t believe it,” Rebecca whispers. “I thought I was hearing things.”

“Me, too.”

She makes eye contact with me, hers glistening. “You did this. By paying for therapy, you helped her talk. I don’t know what to say, Tobias. I will never be able to repay you for what you’ve done for us.”

For some reason, that word “repay” rankles. I don’t want her gratitude. I want her love, her affection. I want her to be my wife. A real wife.

An impossible dream.

Rebecca presses her palm to my face, cradling me there. Our eyes lock. This feels good, but more than that, it feels right.

Her thumb drags absently across my cheek, and something inside me, something I’ve spent years avoiding, shifts.

“Wren,” my voice rasps. “I told you last night, you owe me nothing, and I meant it.”

“But I do,” she whispers. “So much. You gave me back my daughter, my life, my self-esteem. I didn’t think I’d ever feel whole again. I never thought I’d trust a man again. Then you came along and proved me wrong.”

My chest rises on a shaky inhale. Her eyes are locked on mine. The space between us narrows, almost imperceptibly, like we’re two magnets that can’t fight the pull any longer. Her clean scent envelopes me, her warmth comforts me. She leans in. Her gaze drops to my mouth, and my lungs stop working, my heart beating too fast, my stomach twisted into a pretzel.

“Tobias.” She breathes my name.

My hand rises on instinct, cupping her jaw, giving her every chance to back away, to stop what feels inevitable at this point. I’m scared of my body having a negative reaction to her, but I’m beyond the point of no return.

Inch by inch, I draw closer to her until our foreheads touch. Her fingers curl at the nape of my neck, clutching a lock of my hair. It’s as though she’s anchoring herself to me. Her lips part on a shuddering exhale, and I’m not sure who makes the first move. Then we’re kissing, clinging to each other as if we’ll die if we let go.

Her fingers tighten at my nape, and a quiet moan sounds in her throat. She exhales softly against me, and in that breath is every wall crumbling, joining the shattered remains lying at my feet.

My first kiss where I don’t want to peel off my skin and set fire to it. I’m not repulsed.

I’m eager for more.

I run my tongue along her bottom lip, and she trembles in my arms. I deepen the kiss, licking inside her mouth, tentative, searching, hoping I’m doing this right.

Her hand slips from my cheek, and she goes still. She pulls back, a single step. It may as well be a gaping gorge. Her eyes are wide, stunned, and there’s a flicker of panic behind them that guts me.

“I—” She shakes her head. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. I said I’d never⁠—”

And there it is. Regret. A redrawing of boundaries.

“You don’t need to apologize.” My voice is rough, and I’m crumbling inside, but I keep my composure. “It was a moment, that’s all. A reaction to Isla talking.”

She swallows, hard. “Yeah, a moment.” Her gaze drops to the floor, and she takes another step back. Hooking a thumb over her shoulder, she mutters, “I should go and find Isla.” Without another word or a glance at me, she pivots and virtually sprints from the room.

I fall into the nearest chair. It wasn’t “a moment” for me. One kiss has changed everything. I feared it would be like all the other times I’ve tried kissing women and men, but it wasn’t. That little voice, which has slowly grown in volume, was right. An impossible reality that’s no less true.