It’s Christmas Day, and while I was surprised to find Gwen in my house earlier and just a bit angry that she would be there on one of two days a year it’s not wise to be around me, I’m glad they’re here. The darkness of my regrets still lingers in the back of my mind, but having them here has been a good distraction. I know I shouldn’t use them as such, but damn, I don’t want them to leave.
Gwen moves from her position on the floor by Daniel and comes to sit beside me on the couch. With Kelsey leaning against the couch, she’s forced to sit right beside me. Her leg brushes against mine, and I feel it behind the zipper of my jeans.
The damn woman is wreaking havoc on my emotions. I’m trying so fucking hard to keep my thoughts pure when it comes to her, but it’s nearly impossible. Catching her in my room earlier after jacking off in the shower because thoughts of tasting her wouldn’t leave me, left me in a befuddled state for several moments. Right after I came all over the shower floor, guilt started plaguing me. Not because I felt like I betrayed Clara because I was thinking of another woman—I know Clara would want me to move on—but because I’ve got no right thinking about another woman when I couldn’t even take care of the one I had before. One that I loved with my whole heart. One that I had a baby with that I couldn’t protect either.
I’m a heartless bastard who should have his balls kicked into his throat.
Then the anger came on when I saw her standing there. I wanted to lash out at her to make her leave. Between the anniversary of Clara and Rayne’s death looming close and the guilt of what I just did in the shower, my emotions were raw and there was no telling what might happen. I’d wanted her gone at the same time my mind screamed at her to stay.
Then she had to say the kids wanted to see me, the look in her eyes silently saying she wanted to see me too. I couldn’t turn them away.
Things changed when I gave my consent. The look in her eyes turned carnal as she ran them down my body. Fuck if I didn’t want to march straight to her and plunder her mouth with mine. To lift her in my arms and carry her to my bed. Only pure force of will held me back.
Gwen shifts beside me and my dick starts to stiffen. I jackknife off the couch so fast that Gigi jumps up from her perch on the floor and barks once. Leaving the three in the living room, I head to the kitchen for a glass of water.
It’s getting harder and harder being around Gwen and holding in my emotions. The woman makes me feel things that I don’t want to feel. Having her kids here makes me want things I don’t want to want.
Like a family and a life filled with laughter.
My eyes land once again on the bottle of Jameson when I open the cabinet for a glass. I’ve never been one to drink excessively, but the urge to do so now is strong. Anything to make these unwanted feelings disappear.
I turn from the sink after filling my glass with water, and find Gwen standing in the doorway, watching me curiously.
“Would you like me to heat up some of the food Mrs. Myers sent over?” she asks, coming to stand opposite me and leaning against the counter.
I shake my head instead of answering her verbally. I’m not sure how steady my voice will be at the moment.
She glances down at her feet, then brings her head back up.
“What did you mean when you asked Daniel if he remembered what you said about Bandit?”
I take a swallow of the cool liquid, then set it down on the counter before crossing my arms over my chest. She briefly looks at my arms before flicking her gaze back up to mine.
“He’s been trouble training and hasn’t been the nicest horse to be around,” I tell her. I’ve been waiting for this question.
Her eyes widen, and a hint of fear flashes across her face. Before she has a chance to respond, I reassure her.
“He was never close to him when I had him out there with me, Gwen. I wouldn’t put him in danger.”
It only takes a moment before she nods. “I know.”
The rope around my neck loosens with her words. I don’t like her thinking I would be so careless as to put either of her kids in danger. Those kids have wormed their way into my heart and I’m not sure there’s a way for them to get out again. Already I know I’d put down my life for them.
“I saw that you started tearing down the house,” she states softly.
The reminder of what I was doing before my shower earlier lodges a sharp pain in my chest. It seemed fitting to start tearing down the house I was supposed to share with my family on the eve of when they died. I started it, then stopped when my back suddenly gave out. Part of it was due to my total lack of finesse tearing it down, the anger I felt making me clumsy and uncaring of how my back would be affected. Now that I’d started, I wanted it done and over with.
“Yeah,” I answer gruffly.
She moves away from the counter and comes toward me. The closer she gets the more tense my body gets. I left the living room to put some much-needed space between us, and here she is now closing the gap.
Once she’s standing in front of me, she puts her hand on the arm with scars and looks up at me with concerned eyes. I feel the touch everywhere. It’s like, now that my desire for her has slipped by my defenses, it wants to consume me. Or rather, I want to consume her. I’ve gone years without any form of intimate contact, I haven’t wanted to touch anyone, but now it’s damn near all I can think about when I’m around her.
My jaw tics and my hands grip the counter behind me as I fight back the urge to reach for her.
“Are you okay?”
My smile is tight when I respond. “Yes.”