Lynne Marshall

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      She’d be as lost as he had been as a child.

      “She’ll need you,” his father repeated.

      Chloe came to mind. She’d needed him too. Things hadn’t worked out with Travis, and she’d come running to him. Had asked for his help when it came to flirting and the bedroom.

      Had he been her fall-back plan as well?

      Bile rose in his throat even as he swallowed in one hard movement, trying to make the ugly thoughts disappear.

      “She doesn’t want me, Dad. She never has.” Brad wasn’t sure if he was talking about his mother or about Chloe. But maybe it was one and the same. And this was a hell of a time to realize he loved the woman who was currently sharing his bed.

      Damn her. Damn his mother.

      His father reached out and grasped his hand. “It might not seem like she wants you right now, but she will.”

      “And you expect me to just...”

      He couldn’t bring himself to say the words. And you expect me to just drop everything...to forget how she treated me—how you treated me—as a child? Because, despite his apology, his dad didn’t realize what a huge impact those things had had on him... All his dad knew was that they’d provided him with every material thing he could possibly want or need. And more. They’d given him everything.

      Except love. And a childhood free of fear.

      He’d had to go elsewhere to find that. And he had, in the Jenkins family. And most recently in Chloe Jenkins’s arms—Chloe, who had her own issues with fear.

      His whole life was one big circle of irony, which now seemed to be closing in on him as surely as that closet from long ago. His parents hadn’t wanted him. Until now.

      And Chloe hadn’t wanted him either—had ignored him from the second she’d said “I do” to Travis.

      Until now.

       CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

      WHEN WAS MAKING love not making love?

      When it was sex.

      Chloe lay curled on her side in a tight ball, her breathing still heavy and uneven, while Brad stared at the ceiling. She’d been lying right beside him, still caught up in the afterglow, when her eyes had happened to meet his in the mirror and had been shocked by the cold emptiness she saw there.

      She’d had to roll over to block out the sight.

      She might love him, but he did not return the sentiment.

      God, she was such a fool.

      He’d shocked her tonight by coming through the door and grabbing her off the sofa. Pressing her against the nearest wall, he’d propped his elbows on either side of her head and stared down at her for a long time. Just as suddenly he’d lowered his head and kissed her. The second they’d touched, it had been as if a bomb had gone off. He’d devoured her, using his lips, his tongue...his teeth, his body telling her in no uncertain terms that he’d wanted her. Badly. Couldn’t wait to have her. She’d never seen him like that before.

      She’d been thrilled. Ecstatic. Surely he felt the same way about her that she did about him.

      There’d been none of the slow build-up that had always gone on between them. He’d shoved her scrubs and panties down and off and had lifted her onto his hips, burying himself inside her within seconds. Had carried her to bed like that. Still kissing. One hand under her butt, the other buried deep in her hair, holding her to him as he’d groaned into her mouth and surged inside her with each step.

      Then she’d free-fallen onto the bed, with Brad still on top of her, still inside her. All around her.

      She hadn’t known what had been going on in his head, but whatever it was she’d been right there with him. Had been ready for him the second he’d touched her. She’d scratched and bitten and moaned out her need, her hips rising to meet each thrust. She’d tasted blood, but didn’t know whose it was. His? Hers?

      God!

      She’d gone up in flames. Had held onto him as she’d come crashing back down to earth.

      Until she’d realized he had no longer been holding her. Tension had radiated off him as he’d pulled out of her without a word, rolling onto his back. She’d frowned, glancing into the mirror above her.

      And she’d seen it.

      Lord, she’d almost told him she loved him, had gritted her teeth at the last second and let the words sing through her head instead. What a disaster that would have been, if she’d said them out loud.

      He’d have laughed in her face.

      Or worse.

      She pulled in a careful breath as she lay there. Then another one, before she got up the courage to say the words. “Do you want me to leave?”

      Chloe didn’t know exactly what she meant by the question. Wasn’t sure if she was talking about his bedroom or about his life.

      The silence was deafening. Her heart gave a few painful thumps. But when she braced herself to get up, his hand was on her hip, gripping tight. “No. Don’t go.”

      “Are you sure?”

      Brad rolled on his side and put his arm around her. “Yes.” He pulled her back against him. “I’m sorry. Did I hurt you?”

      She swallowed, tears burning at the back of her eyes as she realized what was wrong with him. That’s why he’d looked that way. Why he’d been so stiff and unyielding. He thought their lovemaking had been too rough, that he’d hurt her like Travis had done.

      “No. Couldn’t you tell?”

      His arm tightened. “I wasn’t paying attention to anyone but...” a beat went by “...myself.”

      She turned her head and kissed his upper arm, where his tattoo was. “I got a little carried away too. I think I might have bitten your lip.”

      There was a pause as if he was testing out that admission. “I didn’t even feel it.”

      Her cheek rubbed where her lips had kissed. “Didn’t you feel anything?”

      “I felt everything. Except that.” His chest rose and fell in a sigh. “I don’t want to hurt you, Chloe.”

      She stiffened. Was he still talking about the sex? “I already told you, you didn’t. I’m fine.”

      “Are you?”

      What was with the enigmatic questions? Just when she’d thought she had him figured out, he changed direction and confused her all over again.

      She shifted in his arms, until she was facing him. She swept the hair off his forehead, like she’d done in the park. That day seemed like ages ago. “What’s wrong, Brad?”

      His throat moved. “My father has cancer.”

      Chloe stared at him. “My God. When did you find out?”

      “A couple of days ago. I went to see him today.”

      And then he’d come home and taken her to bed. The desperation she’d sensed in him hadn’t been because of her at all but because of the devastating news he’d gotten. It also explained the emotional withdrawal she’d sensed in him over the last couple of days.

      “Is it serious?”

      He nodded. “Terminal.”

      She grabbed his hand. “I’m so sorry. It’s good that he wanted to see you, though.”

      “He wants me to take care of my mother.”

      Chloe searched his eyes, but they were devoid