Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 68033 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 340(@200wpm)___ 272(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68033 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 340(@200wpm)___ 272(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
“Whose damn shirt is this?” he said against her mouth, licking at the corners and biting her bottom lip.
“Huh?” She clutched his shoulders, blinking through a passion-fogged daze.
“This is a man’s shirt.” He pulled back, placing both hands at her waist, steadying her on his lap. “Whose shirt is it?”
“What?”
“Kerris.” He laid his palm against the side of her face and traced the sensitive skin behind her ear. A shiver skittered from the tender spot down her spine. “The shirt.”
“Sorry.” Focus. “It’s just one I picked up at the Salvation Army.”
“Oh.” Walsh’s expression cleared. He leaned in again, nibbling around her mouth.
“Why?”
It was Kerris’s turn to pull back. She looked at him, putting her hand between her mouth and his. He kissed her sensitive palm, running his tongue between her fingers. The moist swipe of his tongue sent a jolt skidding across her hand. She forced herself to lean back another inch, her breasts heavy and aching to press against his solid chest.
“I thought…I wasn’t sure if…” Walsh fixed his eyes over her shoulder. “I thought it might be one of Cam’s.”
She peered at him through her lashes, her blood slowing, losing the hot press through her veins.
“And that would have bothered you?”
“Yeah. Probably. I don’t know.”
Walsh kissed down her neck, pushing his hand into her hair, dislodging it. Her hair spilled around her shoulders and down her back. Walsh chinned aside her shirt collar, dipping his head to kiss the shallow indentation at the base of her neck. Kerris forced herself to scoot off Walsh’s lap and turn to face him, almost laughing at the disoriented look on his face at finding his arms and lap suddenly empty.
“I’m married to Cam, Walsh. We can’t ignore that.”
Walsh sat back, propping one elbow on the back of the chair and sliding his long legs forward into a lazy pose that didn’t fool Kerris.
“You’re divorcing Cam.”
“No, he’s divorcing me.”
“Whatever.” He opened his arms. “Come back.”
“No, let’s talk about this. There’s an elephant in the room.”
“I thought I liked Dr. Stein.” Walsh dropped his arms and leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees. “But I think she may have you talking about your feelings a little too much. Ker, I don’t want to talk about Cam, and I definitely don’t want to fight about Cam. Not today.”
“Walsh, the shirt. It obviously bothered you enough to ask.”
“Kerris, the shirt is the least of what bothers me.” Walsh stood up, taking a step closer. “Meredith would post pictures on Facebook during your pregnancy. I was blown away by how beautiful you were, and it tore me up that it was with someone else’s baby. Do you get that?”
“Walsh, let’s not—”
“No, you wanted to talk about our feelings. Well, I felt like hurling my computer across the room every time there was a post about an ultrasound, or names you were considering, or whatever. The baby wasn’t mine, Kerris. And it gutted me.”
Kerris wasn’t sure what to say. She started gathering dirty dishes from the table, scraping and rinsing them in silence before loading them into the dishwasher.
“I would have adored her, though,” Walsh said so softly she almost missed it over the sound of running water.
“What?” She didn’t turn to face him, her hands floating under the faucet.
“I would have adored Amalie.” Walsh walked up behind her and took the plate from her numb fingers. He turned the water off. “I never wished she wasn’t born. I just wished she was mine.”
Kerris closed her eyes, but the tears slipped unchecked from under the tightness of her eyelids. Her shoulders shook with hurt and loss she hadn’t realized she’d been saving up for this moment when she’d be with Walsh again. He turned her into his arms, the small of her back pressed against the sink.
“It’s okay, baby,” he whispered into her hair, stroking the silkiness of it.
“Still, Walsh. I’m still hurting over this.” Kerris spilled her composure into a wet mess on Walsh’s shoulder. Her temples throbbed with the force of the sobs shaking her body. “The last time I saw you I was blubbering all over you in the hospital room about her. And here I am, again…still broken up.”
“It was a life, Kerris.” Walsh pulled back, lifting her chin and forcing her to look in his face. “How long do you mourn a life that’s lost? I mourn my mother all the time. Sometimes I find myself on the verge of tears in a stupid board meeting because it hits me that I’ll never see her again. And I had almost thirty years with her. You had no time with Amalie, but she was a part of you. It’ll get better, baby, but it probably won’t ever go away completely.”
Kerris buried her face deeper in the strength of Walsh’s chest, tightening her arms around his waist. She breathed in the scent that was uniquely his, nothing to do with the expensive cologne he wore. She feathered kisses along his collarbone where the collar of his shirt fell away. His hands tightened around her waist, and he brought her so close she truly believed nothing would separate them again. He pulled her up on her tiptoes and left a sweet kiss behind her ear.