One More Chance (Rosemary Beach 8)

The idea that Grant could love someone else someday hurt so much, but then the selfishness of that emotion made me furious with myself. If something happened to me, I wanted Grant to find happiness again. I wanted someone to love him and give him the life he deserved. I did.

Just not with Nan.

God, how wrong was that? What had happened to me? I was a nice person. I had always been a nice person, but now . . . ugh. I was disgusted with myself. I didn’t know what I felt. My emotions were all over the place. I was weepy all the time and clingy. I wasn’t a clingy, weepy person.

“He’s already home. I bet he’s been pacing and worrying his head off,” Blaire said with a smile. “Don’t be too hard on him. I believe Nan really did attack him. He’ll learn to keep his distance.”

I nodded. She was right. I knew she was, and now the idea of him being worried all day made me feel even worse. “I probably shouldn’t have been so hard on him,” I said.

“Yeah, you should have. He gets away with too much because he’s so charming. He needed to be reminded that he can’t let that kind of thing happen. If you don’t let him know it bothers you, it could happen again with someone else,” Blaire explained.

I trusted her. She loved Rush, but she had dealt with her own Nan battles. Nan was Rush’s baby sister and had grown up with him in their mother’s, Georgianna’s, house. Rush had spent most of his life babying Nan and taking care of her. When Blaire walked into his life, Nan hadn’t dealt well with that.

“Thanks for today. I really enjoyed it,” I told them.

“I’m glad we got to do it. I missed you,” Della said. Her smile was always so sincere and kind.

“We’ll do it again,” Blaire assured us both. “Next time, though, I’m forcing Bethy to come with us. Kicking and screaming, if I have to.” Blaire had begged Bethy to come with us, but she’d said she had things to do at home. Blaire said she closed herself off whenever she wasn’t working at the club. It was getting worse instead of better for her, clearly.

“I’ll see y’all later,” I told them, and stepped out of the car.

The front door opened before my foot had hit the bottom step, and Grant was waiting for me at the top of the stairs. His face was full of concern and fear. In my heart, I knew what I had seen earlier wasn’t his fault. It still hadn’t made it easier to watch. I hadn’t been able to ease his mind when I had left him at the club. I was upset, and I wasn’t sorry about that. He would be, too, if he’d been in my position. But from the look on his face, he had worried about this all day.

“I’m sorry,” we both said in unison.

Grant frowned. “Why are you sorry?” he asked as I stopped in front of him.

“For making you worry all day. I shouldn’t have done that. It was wrong of me.”

Grant let out a groan and rubbed his face with his hand. “Harlow, please don’t make this worse. I already feel like a complete ass, and you apologizing sweetly is making me feel like a bigger one.”

I reached up and tugged his hand away from his face. “You shouldn’t have let her get so close to you. In the future, be more guarded. But it was a mistake, and I understand that. I don’t think you wanted her to kiss you.”

He pulled me toward him and pressed me against the door as his mouth covered mine. The mint flavor of his mouth made me wonder how many times he’d brushed his teeth. Smiling against his lips, I slid an arm around his neck and licked at the corner of his mouth, then pulled his tongue into my mouth and sucked on it.

Grant’s hands were under my top in seconds. They cupped my br**sts as he pressed his erection against my stomach. This was just what I needed after a day of thinking about Nan’s lips on Grant.

He broke the kiss, and I had started to argue when he jerked the door open. “Get inside before we get arrested for indecent exposure,” he growled.

Laughing, I hurried inside but didn’t get far before Grant had me pressed against the wall as he kissed my neck and took little bites of my shoulder. I could feel the hardness he’d teased me with outside against my bottom as he ground his h*ps in a circular motion. All I could do was put both of my hands against the wall to hold myself upright and enjoy the ride.

He pulled my shorts down my legs, along with my panties, and I obediently stepped out of them. Then his hands were on my bottom, cupping it as he moved my legs apart. Before I could figure out what he was doing, his mouth was on my slit. I cried out and fell against the wall as his tongue danced along the tender folds.

“Oh, God, I can’t stand up,” I cried out, feeling my knees buckle.

Grant reached up, grabbed my waist, and turned me around. “Put your legs over my shoulders,” he said, looking up at me while he held me by the waist. “I got you. I won’t let you fall.”

I did as he instructed, and he held my h*ps and pushed me back against the wall before continuing his efforts to drive me crazy. I grabbed at the one thing I seemed so fond of when he did this: his hair. He seemed to like it. His kissing always got more intense when I started tugging on his thick locks.

I panted and let out moans and gasps, not caring if I fell off his shoulders. Just as long as he kept doing this. Just when I was about to shatter, he stopped, and his eyes found mine. “You ready to come?”

I nodded, afraid I would scream yes if I opened my mouth.

Grant grinned wickedly, then stuck his tongue out at me before lowering his head and flicking the tip over my most sensitive spot three times and pulling it into his mouth and sucking. I completely lost it. I was sure the neighbors heard my cries. But I didn’t care.

Grant

The next day, at the doctor’s office, Harlow lay on the examination table with her shirt pulled up, her bare stomach exposed for the ultrasound. It was still flat. You couldn’t tell there was anything inside. She looked normal. Well, as normal as a very anxious person can look. She had spent all morning cooking breakfast, even though she never cooked breakfast. Then she’d spent an hour trying to decide what to wear. I could tell she was nervous, but you would have thought we were going to be introduced to the baby and she wanted to make a good impression.

We were at the doctor’s office to hear the heartbeat. I had Googled the process and discovered that if we didn’t hear the heartbeat, that meant the baby hadn’t made it that far. Harlow hadn’t had any bleeding or cramping, but apparently, that didn’t mean she couldn’t have miscarried.

Miscarrying this baby would devastate her. The idea of seeing her brokenhearted wasn’t something I wanted, but I wasn’t sure what I wanted to hear today. I just wanted Harlow to be OK. Safe. I needed her to be safe. And happy. I just wasn’t sure there was a way for me to have both.

Again, I was completely helpless. I hated this feeling.

“OK, are you ready?” the doctor asked, looking down at Harlow. Somehow he knew not to ask me, because he knew I wasn’t ready. If we heard a heartbeat and it was healthy, that meant this wasn’t over, that I had to continue living in fear of losing Harlow. But if we didn’t hear a heartbeat, the pain she would endure might be too much for her to bear.

“Yes,” Harlow said. The excitement and nervousness in her voice weren’t lost on the doctor. He smiled reassuringly. He did this all the time. He seemed positive, which was good. Or wasn’t. Hell, I didn’t know what was good anymore.

Then it happened. The sound that changed it all.

A rapid, steady thumping filled the room, and all I could do was stare down at Harlow’s stomach. Her hand reached out and grabbed mine tightly, and she let out a sob that startled me. I looked up at her, and she was smiling so damn big, but her eyes were filled with unshed tears. The wonderment on her face said everything I was thinking. There was a life in there. One we had created. It was real.

“Sounds strong. That’s a very good sign,” the doctor said.

Harlow’s hand squeezed mine, and she laughed. The heartbeat sped up a second with her laughter, then went back to normal. Had the baby heard her laugh?

“I think this is a good start. I feel positive about this. You look good. I’ve studied your records, and as you know, we had to change up your medications. Some things you can’t take while pregnant, but I feel sure this will work out just fine. You call me if you feel funny at any time. Don’t wait. Call me.” He turned his focus on me. “She needs to call me immediately,” he repeated.

“Yes, sir,” I replied. Not something he had to demand of me. The second I thought she was having problems, I’d call the ambulance, then I’d call him.

He pulled the monitoring equipment up, and I pulled Harlow’s shirt down and helped her sit up, but not before kissing her nose. I had to kiss her somewhere. She held on to my arm for a moment, that huge, brilliant smile still in place. “We heard it,” she said, as if to reassure me that we had heard the baby’s heartbeat.

“Yeah, we did,” I said.

How was I supposed to not want that? How could I choose anyone or anything over Harlow? I was a mess. A confused mess. I loved that sound because it was us. Our baby. It also made her so damn happy. Was I being selfish not to want her to have this because I might lose her?

The doctor told Harlow some more things about her new medications and said that she should continue with moderate exercise as long as she rested often. She assured him that she would, and then we were escorted out through the back entrance again.

When we were in the truck and headed back to Rosemary Beach, Harlow scooted close to me. “That was amazing,” she said softly.

I didn’t want to agree with her, but she was right. It was. “Yeah, I know.”

She wrapped her arms around one of mine and laid her head on my shoulder. “In about two more months, we’ll find out if it’s a boy or a girl, and we’ll be able to see it move.”

A boy or a girl . . . see it move . . . I wanted those things. I wanted them with her. Only her. But I couldn’t forget the risk. Was this the way it was supposed to be in life? You couldn’t have every dream, but you could have part of it? You could only have a taste of something but never the full thing?

My precious baby,

Today we heard your heartbeat. It was the most beautiful sound in the world. I’ve never felt so much joy. Until that moment, I didn’t know that much joy was possible for one human to process. My heart was bursting with love. Knowing that you were in there. That you were safe.

Your daddy said that when I laughed, your heart rate sped up as if you heard me. I hope you did. You make me so very happy. You aren’t even here, and my life is so full.

I’ve never seen your father quite so moved, either. He didn’t say much, but the wonder in his eyes as the sound of your beating heart filled the room was something I will never forget. I will carry it with me forever. You became real to him today.

Don’t get me wrong. He loved you before. He just didn’t know how much until he heard you. He doesn’t have the connection we have yet, because you’re safely tucked inside of me. You will bond with him soon enough, though. You will be the reason he laughs and finds joy in life. I just hope I get to see it.

But remember, if I don’t, I will be there in spirit. I promise to make a deal with heaven to get a front-row seat to your life. I want to see the two people I love most in the world experience this lifetime together. If I’m there with you right now, you know how much I love you, because I’ll be crying as you read this, just as I’m crying happy tears right now.

Your life was blessed before you even arrived. No matter how God determines my fate, you won’t be alone. You will do great things, and I will be watching you and cheering you on, either right there beside you or above the clouds.

Love you always,

Mommy

Harlow

Blaire sat at the table trying to get Nate to eat his dinner. He wasn’t interested. He was focused on the door his daddy and his uncle Grant had just walked through.

“You have to eat,” Blaire told him as he slammed his small hands on the high chair in frustration.

“No! Dada!” he shouted.

Blaire rolled her eyes. “‘No’ is his new word of the week. If I’ve heard ‘no’ once this week, I’ve heard it a million times. That and ‘Dada’ seem to be his favorite words. Last week, it was ‘cah’ and ‘Dada,’ ‘cah’ meaning car, which means he wants to go in the car. The kid likes to go.”

I smiled and watched as he pointed at the door and demanded, “Dada,” again. He was very fond of his father.

“I give up,” Blaire said, setting down the bowl of oatmeal she had been trying to get him to eat. “Let me see if Rush minds taking him outside with them.”

Nate watched his mother walk to the door with complete concentration until he realized I was still seated on the other side of him. He swung his silver eyes my way and gave me a toothless grin. The older he got, the more he looked like his dad. Which I was sure was a good thing for all the female babies of the world. One day, there would be another Finlay man available.