One to Save (One to Hold 6)

My eyes blink open, and her slim torso is right in front of me, swaying gently. Long, chestnut waves move over her breasts, covered in that white sweater. She stops massaging my scalp and her hands move down to my cheeks, lifting my face gently.

“Beautiful man.” Her thumb lightly touches my lips. “You’re tired and you’re hurting. Let me comfort you tonight.”

For a whole half-second in the dim light, her lips are fuller, begging for a kiss. Her long, brown waves distract me with how much they look like Melissa’s. I imagine them falling around me as she straddles my lap. My hands grip her small waist, and as she leans forward, I catch the scent of honeysuckle.

I’m on my feet as my brain’s still working out a response. “I’ll be across the hall,” is as good as it gets.

The next moment, Stuart’s at his door in boxers and no shirt, squinting at me in the light of the hallway. “What the fuck?”

“I’m sleeping here tonight.” I push past him into the dark condo when I realize I’ve brought nothing with me. “Can I borrow a shirt? And a toothbrush?”

He stands for a moment, brow furrowed. A quick sweep of my appearance and he shrugs. “You should be able to find whatever you need in the guest room. Nobody ever sleeps there, but I use it for overflow.”

“Thanks.” I start for the door, but Mariska’s with us, wrapped in a silk robe, her hair messy.

“Are you spending the night?” she whispers. “Let me move my art supplies.”

I step back and let her pass, catching Stuart’s eyes on her ass.

“Art,” I say, since we’re momentarily stuck facing each other.

“She’s taking a class in nudes this semester.” An expression flickers in his eyes.

My brow lowers. “If I see you nude, I’ll kick your ass.”

“Grow up.” But he can’t stop his grin. “It’s art.

“As if your ego could get any bigger.”

Mariska’s back with us. “It should be safe now.” She smiles up at me. “We almost never have overnight guests.”

“Yeah,” I clear my throat. “Got a little crowded at my place. Cammie or something.”

“But you have Dex...?” Her eyes crinkle.

Stuart touches her back. “I figured this was coming. Let’s turn in.”

Thankfully, they take off. I step into the room and close the door. In view of my new full-disclosure policy, I decide in my next text to note that Star has my place to herself while I crash with Stuart and Mariska.

Stretching across the king-sized bed, I rub my forehead. I must’ve drunk more vodka than I realized. My body misses Melissa so much, it was ready to go for a cheap substitute to stop the pain. My stomach turns at the thought. Nothing is as good as Melissa. Closing my eyes, I picture her beautiful sapphire eyes, her long, dark waves over her ivory skin, her ocean-touched roses scent. I love her so much.

Even if she’s thrown me out. Even if we’re in a place where she won’t talk to me. We’ll get it back. I have to believe that, and when we do, I’ll have no secrets from her, nothing to come between us. I won’t betray her trust.

Chapter 9: Moving Forward

Melissa

Work... work... work. I’ve done everything to bury myself in my marketing business, fighting with all I have to escape the pain of this gaping hole in my chest. A local strip mall is hosting a spring promo event, and several of the businesses have combined forces to do an inflatable playground for children with a bounce house and games, balloons and a tiny petting “zoo,” consisting of rabbits, a few goats, a pot-bellied pig, and litter of kittens they hope to give away.

It’s a solid week of work, collecting the various logos and nailing down exactly what type of promotion or event each shop will be hosting, locations and times, alternate arrangements for bad weather.

Sitting at my laptop, typing out the various press releases and newsletter templates for the stores, my eyes drift to the pin board of wedding ideas still lurking on my desktop. One pin is an ivory satin dress with large lace panels forming the bodice. Another is a white, strapless chiffon with lots of layers and movement in the skirt. Perfect for a beach wedding...

“I hadn’t chosen my dress.” Heat fills my eyes, and I lean my head heavily on my hand.

The board also includes cake ideas, and I realize I’ve got to stop Aunt Bea working on the wedding cake. “Oh, god.” Another twist of pain.

Our engagement photograph is there, and the sight of me in his arms, soft lips touching my cheek, his dark hair moving in the breeze is almost too much. He doesn’t want this, my mind shouts. You don’t want this.