Hold On to Me
Page 128
Alyssa squeezed her eyes shut. “I can’t.” Her heart ached just saying it.
John let go of Alyssa and rolled over onto his back, throwing an arm over his eyes. Why wouldn’t she give him a shot? Everything he tried, she turned him down and he was getting sick of it. No matter what he did, Alyssa said no. It was never good enough. And here he thought they were making progress.
“Well, I am. So call off your sitter. I want to stay with her today.”
Alyssa’s heart thumped in her chest as she shot off the bed. “The hell you are,” she ground out. “That’s my daughter, and you do not make the decisions for her. I do,” she finished, jabbing a finger at her chest. “How dare you try to override me?
“This,” she gestured with her hands back and forth “was a mistake. I should’ve never let it happen. Emotions get involved and no one ends up with what they want.” Grabbing her fluffy white pillow, she said, “If Brooke stays asleep, that means I’ll have four hours of uninterrupted sleep until I have to get up. It will be a miracle if that happens. I’m going to sleep on the couch. I’m sorry, but this isn’t going to happen again with us, Johnny. It can’t. I won’t allow it to.”
“Whatever you need to tell yourself,” John retorted. Walking over to where Alyssa stood, he yanked the pillow out of her hand. “Sleep in your bed, I’ll take the couch. You’re trying to fuck this up, Alyssa, but I won’t allow it. You can’t do it all by yourself. One day you’ll see that. I just hope you’ll wake up and see soon. A guy can only take so much.”
And with that, John walked out of her room and plopped down on her couch, frustrated, horny and exhausted.
A bright light streamed through Alyssa’s bedroom window. Rolling over, she opened her swollen sleep deprived eyes and glanced at her clock. 7:12 am.
And then it hit her. Brooke. She didn’t wake up again. It wasn’t like her daughter to sleep through the night. She usually woke around six to have a bottle and then went back to sleep. She couldn’t stop the alarm that traveled through her veins. Even with Ben in jail, she still feared he would somehow find them again.
Alyssa shot out of her bed and raced to her room. Throwing open the door, Brooke wasn’t in her crib.
Her heart dropped into her stomach, nausea taking root in her throat. Where was she?
Sprinting into the living room, she stopped dead in her tracks. Chest heaving, her bones rattling from thinking the worst, she spotted her daughter lying on Johnny’s bare chest. She was curled up and sucking her thumb, a blanket covering her as she and Johnny slept peacefully with his tags in her hand. An empty baby bottle sat on the coffee table.
What was with her and those tags?
Alyssa was overcome with emotion at the sight before her. John’s large hand held Brooke to his chest. Fear had set in immediately and a million thoughts ran through her mind, but now she realized she overreacted for nothing.
Right then, the air kicked on and she saw red lights in the corner of her eye. Her baby monitor. What the …
That’s why she didn’t hear Brooke wake. When had Johnny taken it out of her room and put it next to the couch? She sniffled, and John’s eyes
cracked opened to meet her pained gaze. He pressed a finger to his lips to silence her.
And her heart cracked again. How much more could she take? How much could she put Johnny through? John took matters into his own hands and helped her while she was defenseless.
Alyssa watched as John carefully sat up. He placed both feet on the carpet then scooted Brooke higher on his shoulder, draping the blanket over her. Pressing a hand to the back of Brooke’s head and one to her lower back, he stood wearing only his boxer shorts. Brooke was sound asleep as Johnny carried her to her room and placed her in the crib.
Alyssa sat on her couch and waited. He walked to Brooke’s room like it was second nature to him. She leaned forward and grabbed the empty baby bottle, a depressing breath rolling off her lips. She waved it back and forth between her fingers watching the left over breast milk coated the inside.
John’s backside wasn’t overlooked in the process. In the daylight it was really something, especially with his boxers sitting so low. His back was honed to perfection … a golden hue with two dimples right above the lip of his waistband … his shoulder blades … his strong arms … and all while carrying Brooke.
Alyssa sighed and bit her bottom lip. The Marines did his body damn well. And holding a baby wasn’t helping his cause.
John thought for sure Alyssa would follow him. He almost wished she had because he had no idea how to get his little cupcake off his shoulder and onto the mattress without waking her. How the hell did she do it?
Ever so carefully, that’s how. John felt like he was walking on eggshells. He knew Brooke wouldn’t break in his arms, but he was still very careful. With gentleness he didn’t know he possessed, John placed her in the crib. He covered her up then left, closing the door behind him.
Walking out to the living room, Alyssa was sitting on the couch waiting for him. Their eyes locked, she was gearing up. He knew she was going to lay into him by the darkening of her eyes. John had a restless night, he was tired as hell. He really didn’t want to hear her shit this early in the morning.
Alyssa was still wearing his shirt as he strolled over to her. He woke up wanting Alyssa desperately. He couldn’t get her out of his head. Then Brooke woke up and that’s when he planned to knock down her stupid walls. Damn. She looked sexy as hell for just waking up. As she stood, Alyssa went to open her mouth to speak but John stopped her.
“Shut up,” he ordered. Then he pushed her down onto the couch. “Sit on your hands.” When Alyssa’s brows furrowed, he said, “Don’t make me say it again.”
She did as he ordered.
John leaned over and gripped the back of her couch behind her shoulder. Using his other hand, he cupped her cheek, his thumb gently stroking her. He slid his palm up the side of her jaw, their eyes never leaving each other’s, and then through her hair. John pulled her hair gently back, her chin lifting to meet his gaze. Her lips parted and her chest began rising. Bending a knee, John straddled her, locking her in with his body.
“John?” she whispered.