Part 4 (2/2)
He didn't have to kiss her, didn't have to touch her anywhere else. She came hard and fast, and when it was over, he was still moving inside, staring down at her, his turquoise gaze rapt on her face, his hands fisted in her hair.
Her lids drooped closed, and he tightened his grip. ”Look at me, Taige,” he whispered.
She was so d.a.m.n pretty, so soft and sleek and hot. She lifted her lids and gave him that smile of hers, that teasing, s.e.xy smile that made his d.i.c.k get hard and twisted his heart and stomach into knots. Everything about her hit him so hard: the way she looked, the way she smiled, the way she laughed, the way she cuddled up against him after one of her dreams, and the way she trusted him to hold her while she slept. She was so perfect-perfect for him.
Only him.
”Look at me,” he murmured again when her lids drooped low. He wanted to tell her.
He'd been waiting two years to do it, and when he said it, he wanted to see her face when he did. He slowed the rhythm of his thrusts until he was barely rocking inside her.
She reached up, cupped his face in her hands. ”I am looking. I see you, baby,” she whispered, her voice soft and sweet.
”I love you, Taige.”
Her eyes widened. Then her hands went around his neck, and her arms tightened.
Willing, Cullen sank down against her and hugged her tight. Her lips brushed against his ear, and she murmured, ”I love you.”
They held each other like that, tight and close, Cullen rocking against her with those slow, easy thrusts. They came together, and it was so d.a.m.ned perfect, when it was done, Cullen could feel tears burning his eyes. But he didn't want her to see them, so he kept his face buried in her hair until he felt level again.
When he pulled out of her a few minutes later, he realized he hadn't put a rubber on.
Taige pushed up onto her elbows, staring at his p.e.n.i.s, still half erect and wet. ”s.h.i.+t,” he muttered. A rueful grin curved his lips. ”We sort of forgot something.”
”Yeah, I'll say.” Taige could feel him, wet on her thighs. She studied his face, tried to figure out what he might be thinking. He didn't seem mad or really even worried.
He blew out a breath and dropped down to sit with his legs drawn up. They stared at each other, and finally he asked, ”Think you can get pregnant?”
Taige rolled her eyes. ”I'm a girl, aren't I?”
”I meant . . .” He waved a hand toward the tangled quilt on the floor. ”From this.
Today.”
She shook her head. ”Probably not.” Then Taige narrowed her eyes. ”But what if I did?”
He reached out and snagged her wrist, jerking her into his lap. ”We'd deal with it.” He rested a hand on her belly, frowning a little. ”Don't think I'm ready to be a parent. But we'd deal with it.” Then he looped his arms around her and just held her.
You're the amazing one, Taige thought silently. He'd said that to her on the beach last weekend, but he'd been wrong. She wasn't amazing. A bit of a freak, for certain, but not amazing.
Cullen, though, was. He had his whole life ahead of him, and it was the kind of life she hadn't ever dared to dream about. Rich, smart, and capable, he could have anything he wanted. The thought of an unplanned baby thrown into the mix ought to terrify him.
We'd deal with it.
”Yeah,” she murmured against his neck. ”Yeah, we would.”
”IT'S the same girl.” Taige met Cul en's eyes over the thick mug of tea he had made for her. ”I keep dreaming about her. Pretty little thing, black hair, green eyes, has these s.h.i.+rley Temple curls. She was sitting in an airport this time.”
”How many times now?” Cullen asked, puzzled.
She shook her head. ”Too many. For nearly two years now. Always the same thing. She's sitting there. Then she's gone. Just . . . missing.”
He started to respond, and then his phone rang. He looked at it and swore. ”s.h.i.+t. It's my dad.”
Taige looked up at the clock hanging over the sink. It was red with little roosters in place of numbers. She'd bought it for Rose years ago, and it had been hanging on that wall ever since. Right now, the hour hand was on rooster number ten. Almost ten o'clock.
Cullen had told her last night he had to get home by nine thirty so he could pack his stuff.
They were leaving today. It left a cold knot in her chest. His leaving always hurt, but this time was harder.
He spoke to his dad, promised he'd be there soon, apologized. Then he hung up the phone and looked at Taige. ”I have to go,” he murmured.
She forced herself to smile. He came to the chair and crouched down beside her, resting his head in her lap. ”I don't want to leave yet,” he murmured. Then he turned and kissed her belly.
”You have to.” She wouldn't let herself cry. ”Don't worry. I'll be fine. Just need a few minutes to settle.”
He lifted his head and stared at her. ”It's not just that.” One big, warm hand rested on her thigh, and he squeezed gently. ”And it's not just this, either. Leaving you gets harder and harder every time.”
”I hate it, too.” Then she grinned weakly. ”But knowing it sucks for you, too, makes it a little easier.”
”Wil you come to Georgia? Come for Christmas.”
He'd asked her before. She'd always said no. But this time . . . She leaned in and kissed him. ”Maybe.”
Grabbing her in his arms, he stood, lifting her out of the chair and spinning her around. ”You'll come.” Then he lowered her feet to the ground, his smile fading. He placed his hand on her belly. ”You'll call me and let me know, right?”
She didn't need to ask him what about. She nodded. But she already knew she wasn't pregnant. She hadn't gotten her period or anything, but she just knew.
THREE.
November 1996 LATE one night, right before Thanksgiving, Taige rolled out of bed, hit the floor on her hands and knees, and puked. She puked until she had emptied her stomach right there on Rose's worn, polished floors. She puked until she had nothing left inside her, and then she just dry heaved until she almost choked with it.
Rose came running in, woken from a sound sleep. ”d.a.m.n, girl, what the h.e.l.l . . .”
She took one look at Taige's face and spun around. Taige continued to hover there on her hands and knees, unable to move, frozen inside. When Rose returned with a wet rag, Taige couldn't even take it. The older, smal er woman had to strong-arm Taige into a sitting position, and she ended up wiping Taige's face like a child's.
”Cullen . . .” She forced the words out.
Rose shook her head, her eyes going wide. ”No, baby, please don't tell me . . .”
Taige shook her head. ”Call him. It's . . . it's his mother.”
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