On Hart's Boardwalk (On Dublin Street 6.7)

Nate stood and crossed the short distance between us. He reached for me, cupping my face in his hands, pressing his body to mine. “I never left you,” he whispered across my lips. “I would never leave you.”

“Then where did you go?”

He brushed his thumb across my cheekbone, his expression tender and apologetic. “We both know I don’t handle loss very well, babe. I’m not proud of it. Who is ever proud of their weaknesses? I’m sorry I didn’t turn to you, and I’m more sorry than you could ever know that I ever made you think I’d stopped loving you.” His look changed, that anger from earlier returning. “But we promised to love each other and accept the good and the bad. This is my bad. And I need you to accept it. And while I accept responsibility for making you feel that way and promise that things are going to change, you need to admit that locking this shit up is just as wrong. You should have trusted me enough to tell me how you felt. What does that say about our marriage, Liv?”

He was right.

I knew he was right.

I sagged into him. “What does that say about us?”

“Not what you’re thinking.” He shook me, his countenance fierce. “Marriages are not perfect because people aren’t perfect. But we’ve recognized our wrongs and we can make this work again. Are you ready to give up on us?”

Looking up into my beautiful husband’s dark gaze, I shook my head, my tears falling fast. “Never.”

“Good,” he growled. “Because I’ll never stop fighting for you, Liv. Love of my fucking life.” He swiped away my tears. “We’ll make this right.”

“I love you,” I cried, wrapping my arms around him and pressing my face to his chest. His hands dropped and his arms banded tight around me. “I’m sorry, too.”

We held each other tight for a moment, until my tears subsided. Not wanting to, but knowing the girls would be hungry and antsy waiting for us downstairs, I pulled away. “I’d better get ready.”

My husband nodded and then he cupped my face again. “One other thing. How can you not know by now that I think you’re beautiful? You still don’t see what I see, which is a fucking shame, because if you did, you’d never get sick of looking at yourself. And if I ever hear you call yourself ‘unattractive, fat, and old again,’ I will put you over my knee and spank the shit out of you.”

“Not really a deterrent, darling.” I grinned, pleasure and relief suffusing me at his words.

He grinned too, but as his gaze roamed my face, his smile melted under the heat that crawled over his expression. He kissed me. Sensing his mood, I opened to him, feeling the possessive, deep kiss between my legs. Eventually we broke for air and I sighed in relief. “We still have it.”

Nate shook against me with laughter. “Yeah, babe, we definitely do.”

I smoothed my hands over his hard chest. “We need to make time soon.”

He nodded, desire darkening his eyes. “Aye.”

“No, I mean it, Nate. In an effort to be better at communication, I’m telling you now that it’s important to me that at some point soon you fuck me six ways until Sunday.”

His hands slid up my waist, his fingers curling into the edges of the towel as if he were desperate to pull it off me. His features were taut as his eyes blazed. “I think that can be arranged.”

“And I mean fucked, Nate,” I whispered, my body tingling and hot at just the thought. “I want to feel sore in places I’ve forgotten existed.”

Nate glared at me. “Stop baiting me when I don’t have time to do anything about it.” He grabbed my hand, forcing it down his abs to the erection straining against his jeans. I rubbed the heel of my palm over it and he hissed. “Wicked woman.”

I smiled triumphantly and rubbed harder.

“Babe, we don’t have time.” He shook his head but didn’t make a move to remove my hand.

So, cruelly, I did. “You’re right.” He was right. The kids were waiting. That didn’t mean I didn’t enjoy tormenting him.

“You’re sadistic,” he grunted, stepping away from me to drag his hands over his face.

“It’s just a little teaser.”

Hearing the laughter in my voice, he narrowed his eyes. “I will get you back for that.”

“Maybe you should tie me up and have your way with me?”

He licked his lips, his gaze smoldering. “You can count on it, babe.”

Chapter Four

The obstacle in our way to having makeup sex was the kids. I could only deduce that the girls were feeling wary after hearing their parents’ shouting match, and had decided to stick to us like glue in an effort, I imagine, to keep an eye on us. This meant we could make love quietly in bed at night (which was lovely) but were yet to engage in the wild monkey sex we both knew would release the ever-increasing tension between us.

The tension was part sexual, part emotional. Even though we’d made up, I still felt like Nate hadn’t really told me everything about what he was going through since Peetie’s death. And when I tried to bring it up, he changed the subject, or kissed me.

Yes, he was attentive and affectionate again, working his way slowly back to being the old Nate. But something still felt off. Jo thought maybe I was just reeling from our big fight, but I wasn’t so sure. However, I was willing to be patient and give Nate the time he needed to make his way back to me. Maybe then he’d finally confide in me everything that was in his head these last six months.

A few weeks of parenthood passed like twenty-four hours, and before I knew it, it was time for my fortieth birthday party. The party had been my girlfriends’ idea so I left them to organize it, because honestly I wasn’t the biggest party person. They knew this. They just wanted an excuse to throw a party so we could all be together. Our friendship circle was tight but over the years, as we gained more kids, we’d all gotten busy. So I let them throw me a party.

The party was being held at Joss and Braden Carmichael’s town house on Dublin Street because it was grand, stylish, and pretty much the perfect place for any party. Braden was a real estate mogul and Joss was a bestselling author. They were successful, attractive, and wealthy, and yet you couldn’t hate them for it because they were also witty, kind, and considerate. They had three kids and busy careers, and if you searched #relationshipgoals, it was their picture that came up.

Joss and I had been friends for a long time now, so I knew all those things, and I also knew that she may be hosting the party at her house but she wasn’t the one organizing it. That would be my other friend, Ellie, Joss’s sister-in-law. Ellie was sweet, loving, hilarious, and a little off-the-wall. And she loved to organize stuff. Ellie was definitely handling the party with a little help from her husband, Adam (Braden’s best friend and business partner), Jo, Joss, Hannah (Ellie and Braden’s sister), Shannon (Jo’s brother Cole’s wife), and Grace (Shannon’s brother, Logan’s, wife).

It was not a total surprise then when Nate and the girls’ led me into the town house on Dublin Street that I was greeted first and foremost by these ladies, their husbands, and their kids. Behind them I saw a packed sitting room filled with acquaintances and work colleagues. “Wow,” I said under my breath as I smiled and hugged Ellie, “You invited the entire city.”

“The more the merrier,” Ellie singsonged, giving me a mischievous smile.

Since I was the first of us ladies to turn forty years old, I realized they didn’t quite get the weirdness of it all. Not only did I have my concern for Nate to contend with, but I had all these thoughts about whether I’d really achieved what I thought I would have achieved by this age, concerns over my appearance, an obsession with the faint lines around my

eyes and corners of my mouth, and a slight feeling of panic every now and then that life was just slipping by at the speed of light, completely out of my control.

“I’ll make sure to throw you the biggest party on the planet when you turn the big four-oh, Els.” I squeezed her tight. Too tight.

She grunted and extricated herself, tucking a long strand of wavy, light blonde hair behind her ear. “I love parties.”

“You’ll understand where I’m coming from when you turn forty. In one year’s time.” I held my arms out to Joss. “Please tell me you get me?”

Joss, a striking dark blonde with exotic tip-tilted gray eyes, gave me an apologetic smile as she stepped into my hug. “Jo and I tried to explain. We’re sorry.”

“It’s fine.” I shrugged, looking over her shoulder at the guests smiling and waving at me. “I just wasn’t expecting there to be so many people.” And now I’d have to be polite and talk to every one of them, and grin and bear it while they cracked jokes about me getting old.

“Note to self: Never throw a fortieth birthday party for a woman,” Hannah said, pulling me into a hug.

Despite being ten years my junior, Hannah was very wise. “Am I making it that obvious?”

“No,” she reassured me. “You look gorgeous, by the way.”

I kissed her on the cheek and turned to greet Shannon, Grace, and her stepdaughter, Maia. I not only got a hug from them but a cute, sloppy baby kiss from Grace and Logan’s two-year-old son, Lachlan, as he bounced happily in his big sister’s arms.

I was then enveloped in man hugs from all of their gruff, devoted menfolk. By the time they were done with me, the rest of the guests looked a little bored.

“Happy birthday, Olivia.” Elodie Nichols approached me with her husband, Clarke, at her side. Elodie was Ellie and Hannah’s mom and Braden’s pseudo mom. Ellie and Braden had the same dad. Hannah was actually Elodie and Clarke’s daughter, and they had a son, Declan, too, whom I didn’t see there. He and his wife, Penny, had just had twins, so I was guessing they had their hands too full with them to be able to party. Although Hannah and Declan weren’t related to Braden, he treated them like they were his siblings, too.