Chapter 20
We sit in silence, the only connection between us the side of our thighs as they touch. Soon after Dane dropped my hand, a young couple came into the chapel, clinging tightly to one another as they'd wept on their knees at the altar.
Dane had twitched slightly when we heard them talk about funeral plans and calling relatives they hadn't spoken to in years. It was an intimate view into the mourning process of two people we'd never see again.
"I want you to meet my mother," he whispers softly.
"You what?" I ask feeling embarrassed that I thought the next words out of his mouth would be that we needed to take a break while he dealt with the family he already had.
He glides his palms over the legs of his jeans. "I need you to meet my mother. I want her to see you. I want her to know you. I wish that could happen."
I want that too. "I'd like to meet her."
"I've told her all about you." He leans towards me to rest his forehead against mine. "I told her how amazing you are. She knows how talented you are."
I close my eyes against a surge of emotions. "I didn't know that you talked about me to her."
"That's all I talk about when she calls." He shakes his head slightly. "I sent her some pictures of your portraits. She read about the accident."
I glance down at where his hands are clasped together into a fist on his lap. He's trying to edge me into feeling secure in the knowledge that he's told his mother about his love for me but I know that she still views his leaving Maisy as a mistake. He told me as much just a few days ago.
"Your mother wants you to be with Maisy." I don't say it out of spite or jealousy. I say it to remind him that when it comes to his mother's acceptance, it's an uphill battle I may never win.
He rubs his hands over his face. "I have a brother. Landon. He's thirty-two."
"You have an older brother?" I purse my lips together. "You mentioned once that you have a brother."
"I never see him anymore." He scowls. "My mother doesn't either."
"Why not?" I push. I want a clear understanding of his family dynamic.
He looks towards the couple who are now sitting on one of the pews a few feet away from us. "He's a pilot. He's always away. When he's in New York, he's hanging out with whoever he met the night before. He shows up during the holidays for a drink or two and then he's gone again."
I glance past him to the clock on the wall. It's well past the time I was supposed to be at the pub. I can tame Elliott's anger tomorrow. Tonight, Dane needs me and if I'm being completely honest with myself, I need him too. After seeing Maisy, I'm shaken to my core.
"My father died when I was a teenager so I'm all that my mother has left."
Shock pulses through me. Although he never mentioned his dad I hadn't made the assumption that he was no longer in Dane's life. "You've never told me that."
"I hate it." He closes his eyes on a heavy swallow. "I need him. I miss him and every day I wish I could talk to him one last time."
I think about my own father and the deep sense of loss I would feel if I couldn't dial his number and know that he'd pick up with a cheery greeting at any time day or night. "I'm sorry you lost him."
"My dad would have loved you, Bridget." His hand scrubs the back of his neck. "He would have fucking loved you just as much as I do."
***
"Can I come home with you tonight?"
I pause to look over at him. "You want to come back to my place?"
He licks his lower lip as his eyes skim over my face. "It's the only place I feel like I belong anymore."
My breath catches and the fact that I audibly gasp gives credence to everything I'm feeling.
His lips hover next to mine as the couple who had sat in the pew, stand to take their leave. "Don't be scared, Bridget. I'm not going to push you into anything. I just want you to know what I feel."
"You can come home with me." I hold out my hand. "You can stay all night and tomorrow we can talk about what's next."
"I already know what's next." He places his large hand over mine, completely covering it in its embrace. "We both do."
Chapter 21
I wake just as the morning light breaks through the slim space that separates the ill fitted curtains that cover my living room window.
After we'd come back to my place, Dane had helped me into the shower and as he'd silently washed my hair and body, he'd stared at my face. I didn't ask him what he was thinking. I just stood quietly with my eyes locked onto his.
He'd carried me to my bed after that and had kissed me until I was dripping wet with want and need. He'd slid his body into mine then, without any protection. I hadn't stopped him. It was an act of trust and commitment that we both wanted and since I've been taking birth control pills on and off for years now, the risk is low.
We'd fallen asleep in each other arms until I felt his lips against my back shortly past midnight. His greedy hands fell to my breasts and as he massaged one nipple between his strong fingers, the other hand slid to my core. I'd come quickly and loudly, falling into his chest before he picked me up and carried me into the living room.
He'd sat me on the couch then and handed me my sketchpad and a pencil.
"Draw yourself for me, Bridget."
They were the only words he spoke and as he sat next to me, with the light that was cast from a single lamp on the table, I'd drawn myself for the first time.
His breath raced over my neck as he leaned in to kiss my cheek to thank me and as I turned to him I saw a flash of something I'd never seen before in his expression. It might have been weariness from the emotional toll that the day had taken on him but as I studied his deep brown eyes, I saw a need there that only I could satisfy.
I'd slid the sketchpad onto the sofa next to me and had crawled into his bare lap. As I sat there, with the heat of his arousal pressing into my core, I'd held his strong and handsome face in my palms.
He tipped his chin slightly as if he was coaxing me forward and just before my lips touched his, I said the one thing I'd longed to say to him for weeks. "I love you, Dane."
His hands found my hair and as he curved his lush lips over mine, he whispered the words back into our kiss.
We fell asleep again then, resting on the narrow couch with our bodies pressed against each other.
Now, hours later as my eyes adjust to the space, I scan it looking for him.
I dart to my feet as soon as I notice the page ripped from the sketchpad. I stumble past the coffee table and down the hallway to my bedroom. My hand jumps to cover my eyes as I flick on the light switch in the bathroom and my heart sinks when I realize that the clothing he discarded there, on the floor, last night is gone.
I race back towards the living room, in search of my smartphone but my eye catches on a white envelope perched on my bed. It's resting against the headboard as if it was placed there with a sense of care and thoughtfulness.
My name is written in messy handwriting across the front and as I reach to pick it up, I sob. I know what it's going to say. I know that the message won't be about love that withstands life's trials and tribulations. It won't be a declaration that promises me endless tomorrows.