More Than Need You (More Than Words 2) - Page 26

I know it’s going to be a mess, so I’m just not going to look.

Instead, I grab a bottle of water from the fridge and schlep Britta’s takeout over to her as I settle beside her on the sofa. “Hey, angel. I brought you one of your favorites.”

I show her the bag from the deli we used to frequent when we lived together. Plain white with cheerful red lettering. Her eyes light up. “Tuna salad?”

“And homemade potato chips.” I smile as I set everything up for her.

“Did you get that caveman’s all-meat special you used to love?” she teases me.

And it feels fantastic.

I beat my chest. “Me, Ug. You, Ugga.”

Even though her laugh is weak, I know it’s real.

“That’s a yes. Thanks, Griff. And thanks for remembering.”

No other way to describe it, her praise makes me feel warm and pretty damn proud. “What else can I get you?”

“Nothing. We’ll be fine from here. I can give Jamie a bath soon and he’ll go—”

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“No. I’ll give him a bath and put him to bed. You eat and then you rest.”

I must look stubborn because she concedes with a sigh. “All right.”

I check on Jamie while I grab my food from the kitchen counter. Yep, it’s a mess. I’ll deal with it in a few.

As I settle in beside Britta, she takes the first bite and moans. “I’m in heaven.”

“You can taste it?”

“I’m congested, but I’d have to be dead to miss this flavor.” She takes another bite, and her pleasure sounds almost sexual. “I remember eating these at two a.m. after we’d been out barhopping most of the night. They always tasted so good then, especially when I knew we had to get up early for work the next day.”

I remember. I also recall how many times we’d finish our sandwiches, shower up, and fall into bed, frantic and hungry for each other, then make love until damn near dawn.

Why the fuck was I so stupid that I didn’t believe the devotion and happiness in my arms?

After I’ve finished my sandwich, I look over to see she’s managed to eat half of hers, along with a few chips. I insist she drink more from the water bottle before I lift her and carry her back to bed.

As I lay her on the mattress, it’s clear she’s fighting to keep her eyes open. She touches my arm. “I don’t know whether to thank you or ask you to stop before I get used to you taking care of me.”

“You don’t have to do either,” I promise. I don’t need her thanks, and I definitely intend to be by her side—giving her whatever she needs—for the rest of her life. “Just rest.”

Her faint smile slowly fades. “’K.”

“I love you,” I whisper.

But she’s already floating away to wherever her dreams have taken her. I kiss her forehead, resolving to bring some ibuprofen and whatever I can find that’s useful in her medicine cabinet as soon as I get Jamie in bed. Then I back out of the bedroom, leaving her to sleep alone in peace.

I also promise myself it’s one of the last times in our lives that she’ll sleep without me.

CHAPTER SEVEN

I got almost no rest, but the night was still beyond epic. I slept under the same roof as Britta. Not just under the same moon or in the same time zone or even on the same island, which was what I sometimes told myself in the past. But legitimately mere footsteps away.

After giving Jamie a bath and reading him a couple of stories about puppies, I tucked him in. I made sure the kitchen was clean and the house was secure, then I checked on Britta to find her utterly sacked out. I glanced at my watch. Not even nine p.m.

It’s late for Keeley, but I take a chance that she’s still awake and call her back.

She answers on the second ring. “I haven’t heard from you in a couple of days. Everything all right?”

“I had to think.”

“What’s going on?” Concern rings in her voice.

With a reluctant sigh, I fill her in. I’d rather not say anything but A) she gives great advice and B) she’ll only ask me a not-so-gentle avalanche of questions designed to dissect my thoughts. I’ve only ever been able to keep one secret from Keeley. I often wonder if she’s managed to fill in the blanks anyway.

When I finish my recap of recent events, she pauses. “What are you going to do?”

“I planned to romance Britta, but when she got sick, I had to scrap my intimate lunch for two.” I’d managed to finagle some private catering on the rooftop of a hotel with amazing views that went on forever. Once we were alone, I intended to be as honest as I could about my life, my past, my regrets. I hoped being that real with her would prove I was a different man and she would change her mind about Jamie, Makaio…everything. “It was a good strategy, but in retrospect, the issue isn’t simply my relationship with her but with Jamie, too. Britta needs to see what life with the three of us together would be like. She needs to believe I intend to stay and be good to them.”

“You’re in her house with your son now,” Keeley points out. “It’s a start, right?”

“I’m caretaking and babysitting, not wooing and bonding.”

“Yeah, but it’s helpful. I guess it’s not what you had in mind.”

“Britta will be well in a few days, and the fiancé will slink back. Then one of those two will heave-ho me out of the house. And I’ll be back to square one.”

Not making amends with Britta. Not forging a relationship with Jamie.

I’m not tolerating that.

“I know that tone in your voice,” she says suspiciously. “You’re scheming something.”

“I’m not.” Yet. But, all right, I’m thinking about it. No masterful strokes of genius have lit my bulb so far.

She sighs. “I’d tell you to stop and win her back with your heart, but I’m not sure you can suppress your ruthlessness for that long.”

“I’ve been trying to do this the right way.” But I don’t know if it’s working out.

“Well, that’s a start. I know you’ll probably ignore me but… Tread carefully or you’ll talk yourself into something reckless you’ll only have to repent for later.”

“This is a go-big-or-go-home situation.”

“Griff…” Keeley warns.

“Think about it. When I walked out on her, it changed her life. It was a huge deal. Can I really approach her quietly, hat in hand, and expect her to welcome me back? I have to be more than sorry. I have to prove I’ve changed and that nothing is more important to me than her and our son.”

“But you can’t force her to accept that. Her asking you to sign those papers was like caution tape. She’s clearly feeling threatened, so—”

“I feel threatened, too. She blindsided me by asking me to relinquish my parental rights, and the terms? Fucking draconian. There’s no way I’ll ever agree. But if I’m ever going to earn her forgiveness so we can live happily ever after, I can’t let this shit make me angry. I have to get smart.”

And yeah, maybe a little ruthless.

“You could be right. At the moment, I’m questioning my own wisdom. And I can’t help with ideas to win Britta back since I’m not feeling very grand-romantic-gesture. I mean…It’s great that Maxon respected the space I asked for.” She sounds anything but thrilled.

I laugh. “He asks about you every day. To say he wants you is an understatement, somewhere in the league of me stating that the universe is big. Are you getting on the plane in”—I look at the time on my phone—“eight hours?”

She lets out a tortured breath. “I still don’t know. Maybe.”

“What do you need so you know for sure?”

“Probably to see Maxon, but that’s what I’m most afraid of. I’m so in love with him that I’m worried after one glance, I’ll sweep everything under the rug.”

“You? Nah. Though I always believed you had better taste in men…” I tease to lighten the mood. After I work a chuckle out of her, I get serious. I owe her for all the times she talked me through my personal shit. In fact, I can never truly repay Keeley. “Look, I know my brother. He…can be thoughtless. He’s driven. Like you said, he wants what he wants when he wants it. But I’ve never seen him actually love anyone—until you. I’m not just saying that. You know few people are as important to me as you, so I’d never lie. I think if you gave him another chance, he’d do his best to

Tags: Shayla Black More Than Words Erotic
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