Slowly wrapping an arm around my waist, he closed the little distance between us and rested his bent head against the side of mine so his nose brushed against the curve of my neck. My body slowly trembled from forcing myself to not grip his hand in mine, but I knew I was slowly losing the battle. He had no idea what his touch and words were doing to me, or maybe he did.
“I am losing my mind without you. I would choose having flashbacks of that mission . . . every night for the rest of my life in a heartbeat if it meant I could have you two for the rest of our forever. A night of not remembering is heaven, but that”—he pointed to the picture of the three of us—“is my peace. You and Parker are my peace. You’re my life. My family. I can’t live without you, please don’t ask me to keep doing it.”
I stood there trembling and staring at the picture in front of me for long minutes before I realized I couldn’t see it through the tears anymore. Dropping my head, I shook it back and forth as I fought with myself. I was terrified. He’d hurt us, he could do it again. But I was right there with him, I wasn’t sure we could live without him. I hadn’t felt this whole since the last time I’d set foot in this building, and everything in me was screaming to stop running from him.
With a tortured breath out, his arm slowly left my waist. “I’m sorry, Reagan,” he whispered before I heard his footsteps retreat from me.
The war with myself reached deafening levels as he got farther away from me, and it wasn’t until I heard the door shut to his studio, did I finally turn from the spot I’d been standing in. Before I could even run after him, I froze in place again and my eyes widened as I saw the backs of the canvases. Down the entire left row was a word on every canvas: IT’S BECAUSE OF YOU THAT I STOPPED HIDING FROM MY DEMONS THANK YOU.
And it was then I understood all of it. Starting with the pictures of Coen hiding his eyes or face, changing into the ones of us together where there was no longer anything for him to hide behind, to him baring his soul to tell me more than I’d ever expected him to.
I took off running for the front door, and flung it open. Keegan and Erica were standing against Keegan’s truck looking to my left; and when I followed their gazes, I found Coen walking away and running his hands over his face.
I tried calling out his name, but nothing came out as I ran after him. He must have heard my approach, because he turned just in time for me to launch myself at him. He staggered back a step before steadying himself as I wrapped my legs around his waist and pressed my lips firmly to his.
When I finally pulled back, I found his dark eyes filled with tears, and if he hadn’t been holding me, the sight would have brought me to my knees. “We can’t live without you. I’m sorry I tried to hurt you, I’m so sorry for everything I—”
He cut me off with a hard kiss. “Don’t apologize. God, please don’t.”
“I love you, Coen; Parker loves you, we need you.”
His dark eyes held mine as he promised, “I swear to you I’m not going anywhere again.”
I nodded and spoke through the tightness in my throat. “I know.”
He started walking back toward the studio with me still in his arms as he whispered, “I love you. I’m going to marry you, and adopt Parker. I’m going to give you that forever, Reagan.”
As we reached the door, Erica spoke up. “Don’t worry about tonight. Parker’s spending the night with your parents, just have fun.”
I sent her a grateful look, and just barely caught my brother’s horrified expression as Coen walked us inside.
“Don’t have too much fun!”
Coen just shut and locked the door behind us, before capturing my mouth again and walking us slowly through his studio. Letting me slide down his body, he helped me take off his shirt and pants without ever once stopping his advance. By the time we made it to the large bed, my bra was being dropped to the floor and he was pulling off my underwear as he gently pushed me down onto the bed.
As I slid to the middle of the bed, my body heated and stomach tightened. He crawled on top of me and positioned himself between my legs. Grabbing one of my hands, he intertwined our fingers as he slid inside me, and I audibly exhaled at the feel of him again. I’d missed this connection. Missed the way his body felt against mine. Missed the way the muscles in his arms and back tensed and shuddered below my fingertips as he controlled our movements. Missed the way shivers ran up my spine as his lips ghosted over the most sensitive parts of my body. Missed the way his dark eyes conveyed more emotion than any words ever could.
“I love you,” he whispered, the words sounding like a promise as my fingers tightened around his and a surge of heat r
ushed through my body seconds before he followed me into his own release.
We stayed in each other’s arms, talking softly as our bodies relaxed over the next few minutes, and I wondered how I ever thought I could live without this man, and was so thankful that he never once gave up on me.
“I want to stay here all night with you,” he admitted as he pulled me onto his chest. “But what would you think to getting dressed, picking up Parker, and going out to dinner as a family? We have to celebrate your birthday.”
Somehow, more tears filled my eyes as a wide smile slowly crossed my face, and I kissed him roughly before sitting up, pulling him with me. “Thank you for understanding me.”
His lips tilted up in a crooked smile and he shook his head before his dark eyes met mine. “If only you knew how backward that thank-you was, Duchess.”
Epilogue
Reagan—June 18, 2011
LOOKING OVER AT Keegan’s fiancée, Erica, I winked and watched as she turned with a smile and began walking away from where I was standing.
“You ready?” Dad asked as he held out his arm for me to take.
With a wide smile, I put my arm through his, bounced up on my toes once, and nodded. “So ready.”