Miracle In March (28 page)

He closed the door behind him, kicked off his shoes, and approached the bed. His heart warmed when he noticed the book she'd been reading:
Raising the Autistic Child
.

Had she simply been passing time or was she really interested in learning more about the topic? He carefully picked up the book and placed it on the bedside table, surprised that Jackson's favourite bedtime story was also there. He wondered if his son had been reluctant to go to sleep in his own bed without him there. Maybe she had read to him in here so he felt like he was still around. Whatever she'd done tonight, it had worked.

James placed his phone on the table also, leaving it on, and undid his belt. He considered waking Emma but she looked so beautiful he didn't want to disturb her, so he simply slid under the sheets beside her and revelled in the feeling of finally taking the weight off his body.

He switched off the bedside lamp.

Emma stirred beside him, a deep breath filling her lungs. She rolled sideways towards him and her forehead bumped his.

‘Huh?' she mumbled, then shot up. ‘James!'

‘Shh, it's okay.' He patted her arm.

‘What happened? Is Lizzie okay? And the baby?' The dim moonlight curved around her face, highlighting her soft features and her concern.

‘She's alive. She got worse when she arrived at hospital but they said the condition usually resolves after delivery, so they'll have a better idea tomorrow how she's faring. But they're confident she'll recover fully.'

‘Oh, James!' Emma covered her heart with her hand, then placed it on his hand. ‘I'm so relieved, I've been worried all night.' She exhaled loudly. ‘And the baby?'

James recalled the tiny human he'd seen briefly after they stabilised her. ‘A girl. Don't know her name yet, André is waiting for Lizzie to wake up. She's premmie of course, so is in the NICU. Doctors and nurses have filled us in on the potential complications, but also told us that many born this early still do as well as they possibly can. She'll be in there for quite a while, I'm guessing.'

Emma shook her head. ‘Wow, all this in one night. How are your family holding up? How are
you
holding up? Especially after today being…an important occasion.'

‘André was a wreck, understandably. He was dreading having to make an impossible choice, as Lizzie had…' the words caught in his throat and he covered his mouth. ‘Lizzie said,' he closed his eyes, ‘to save the baby instead of her if it came down to that.' Unbearable pain of an alternate reality swept him away, taking him to a place he didn't want to go. He rubbed at his temples with his thumb and fingers, pushing what
could
have been back down into the abyss of where it belonged.

A soft hand warmed his cheek. Emma stroked his skin with her thumb, backwards and forwards, easing his turmoil.

‘They're all staying there the night. I wanted to get back to Jackson. And you. And we need to check out tomorrow, I'll have to sort all that out and pack things up and —'

‘Hey, it's okay. I'll help. And you can put any of your family's things in my cottage if you can't fit everything in the one car. And I'll take care of Jackson again all day if you need me to. He's an amazing little boy.'

Emma's helpful nature sprung to action, and James wanted to wrap her in his arms and shower her with love. ‘Emma, thank you.' He brought his own hand to her face, then ran it down her neck and shoulder, encouraging her to lie back down by his side. ‘I don't know what I would have done without you tonight.'

Or ever.

She rested her hand under her cheek as she lay on her side. ‘I just did what needed to be done. I wished I could have done more.'

‘You did more than enough. You're an angel.'

He looked deep into her eyes. The pain and trauma he'd seen before was gone. There was now only peace, acceptance, and love. ‘Don't go. Stay here tonight, with me?' he spoke softly, running his hand slowly up and down her bare arm in time with the slow, sexy rhythm of the music.

Her gaze moved to the door. ‘Will that be weird for Jackson?'

‘He rarely comes into my room anymore. And in the morning he's been getting himself up and making his own breakfast.' James smiled. ‘Anyway, after tonight, I'm sure he thinks you're part of the family.'

Emma smiled. ‘Okay. I'll stay.'

When his fingers reached the end of her arm, he took hold of her hand and threaded his fingers with hers.

‘James. About last night,' she said. ‘I'm sorry. I've had time to think. I don't want to muck you around anymore, I just want…' she breathed, ‘I just want…' She released her hand from his and brought it to his chest, running it up and over his shoulder then around his back, pulling him closer to her. ‘I —'

James put a finger to her lips. ‘Shh. Let's talk about it tomorrow.' He kissed her forehead. ‘Right now, I just want to be with you. In this moment. No past, no future, just now.' He put his hand around her back too, rubbing it up and down.

‘I want that too,' she whispered.

James moved closer to her, his lips parting in readiness for hers. He kissed her with a raw, pure need, but not with the same passionate intensity of last night. This time it was different. There was no rush, no suddenness, only a simple, beautiful, natural progression from one moment in time to the next. Her mouth danced with his, soft and warm and magical, and heat crawled throughout his body and heightened his senses.

Her hands moved under his top, pulling and lifting. He raised his arms and let her take the shirt off his back. She ran her hand down his spine, then back up again, her fingers reaching the back of his neck and tangling themselves in his hair.

He deepened his kiss, lifted his body, rolling her onto her back. His hands cradling her face, he moved his lips to her neck, trailing kisses down the firm, corded muscles to her collarbone. He slipped a finger under her singlet strap and moved it aside, kissing the spot where it had been, then traced the neckline of her singlet with his lips, exploring her curves as her chest rose high with a breath. James wriggled himself lower, lifting the hem of her top and circling her belly button with his tongue. Her skin felt like home to him; a sanctuary, a haven, and he longed to rediscover every inch of her.

When he kissed a little lower, Emma flinched. He realised why. He paused a moment, grasped her hand that had been tangling in his hair, and brought it to his lips. He kissed each finger one by one, then uncurled them and pressed his lips against her palm. He wanted to reassure her, to remind her, that this was not just physical. He'd never felt so connected to anyone on
all
levels, and he wanted her to feel adored, cherished, and worshipped.

James lowered the waist of her pants slightly. With only a dim wash of moonlight in the room, he felt across her abdomen with his hand and became aware of the change in texture on her skin. He traced the scar with one finger, from beginning to end, and a small sigh escaped Emma's mouth. This was what had taken her from him all those years ago, what had made her feel she couldn't stay. But now, it made her even more beautiful, unique, and strong. Pride and love overtook him and he leaned closer and kissed the middle of her scar. Then he placed a gentle kiss on one end of it, sprinkling kisses one by one along the length of the permanent reminder of her infertility. With each kiss she whimpered, from sadness, or relief at finally exposing her vulnerability he wasn't sure. But she didn't ask him to stop. Still she caressed his hair, his neck, and allowed him to shower affection on an area she probably never thought would receive anything but pain. He reached the end of the scar and gave it one last kiss in the middle, allowing his lips to linger a moment longer.

‘James,' she whispered, and he gazed up at her. She curled a finger and he eased himself up to level his face with hers.

‘It's been a long time for me,' she breathed into his ear. ‘There's been no one else.'

James stroked her hair and tucked strands behind her ear. ‘It's been a while for me too.'

‘Was Jackson's mother the last one?' she asked.

He nodded, and it was only then that he realised just how much time had passed since he and Emma had been together. It seemed like a lifetime. And yet, being here with her now, her skin smelling sweet and hot, her touch filling him with longing he ached to fulfil, it seemed like they'd never parted.

‘I barely remember that side of me,' Emma whispered. ‘All I've been focused on is getting well.' He kissed her face gently as she spoke, then she grasped his face and looked him in the eye. ‘Thank you for understanding me, for being here with me. I just hope it's worth the wait. I hope
I'm
worth the wait.'

‘My beautiful Emma.' James looked into her deep brown eyes with a smile. ‘You already are.'

Emma became faintly aware of the morning sun warming her face, but her eyes remained closed. She was also faintly aware of her memories from last night, floating in and out of her consciousness as she drifted between awake and asleep…

The moment James had kissed her scar had sent a healing wave through her body. The beauty of the moment took her breath away, and the moments after even more so. The way he'd taken his time rediscovering her, showing such tenderness and respect, had reinforced her feelings for him and reawakened her desire for him. For the first time in a long while, or even ever, her body had felt beautiful, scars and all. Never had she been so overcome with bliss and a sense of connectedness with another human being, it was like they had reached new levels of intimacy they'd never experienced before when they'd been together. Emma sighed, remembering the moment she'd felt truly one with him, their bodies entwined, like all these years he'd been a missing part of her and now they'd reestablished their bond. Nothing could break that bond now, nothing at all.

A phone rang and Emma's mind switched from half asleep to awake and alert. She rolled over to the sound on the bedside table. James eased himself up to sit on the edge of the bed with his back to her, the phone to his ear.

‘Hello, Mum?' he asked, and Emma smiled as she saw that James was still completely naked. Then she remembered what else had happened last night.

Lizzie.

‘And what do the doctors say?' he asked.

Emma propped herself up on her elbows and realised she too was completely naked. She fossicked around for her clothing. She found her bra under the pillow and her undies on the side of the bed, and put them on.

James turned briefly as he listened to his mother on the phone and half-smiled as Emma tried to discreetly get dressed. ‘When is the best time to come see her?'

Emma was worried Jackson might come into the room, so she crawled on the bed looking for her pants and singlet. She reached over the end of the bed to grab her pants from the floor, but from the incoordination of waking from sleep or her rush to get them, she lost balance and toppled off the end of the bed. She grabbed the pants and covered herself with them as James looked at her and held back a laugh.

As he spoke to his mum she fed her legs through the pants, then crawled back on the bed to find the singlet, which she yanked out from under James' pillow. James didn't seem in a hurry to get dressed, and Emma, to be honest, wasn't in a hurry for him to do so either.

She lay back on the bed, trying to ascertain what the situation was with Lizzie and the baby from the one-sided conversation. It didn't sound like there were any major concerns. She reached out and ran a supportive hand down James' back, then ran it sideways to curve around his hip. He swapped the phone to his other ear and placed his right hand on hers, giving it a squeeze. Had this not been an important and serious conversation she might have been a bit more playful, but she kept her hand on his hip.

‘Right, well I'll come by around midday. I'll get everything sorted out here first. See you then.' James ended the call and placed the phone on the bedside table. He twisted sideways to face her. ‘Lizzie is much better, her blood pressure is almost at normal levels, and protein levels are improving. Baby has a long way to go yet but is responding well.'

‘James, I'm so pleased. Your parents and André must be exhausted. Let me know if there's anything I can do.'

He lifted the sheets and slipped back under the covers with her. ‘I know something you can do.' He teased her nose with his, then gently kissed her lips.

‘You know what I mean,' she replied, teasing his nose back.

The sound of the toilet flushing turned their heads towards the door, and it was soon followed by the clattering of cutlery and what sounded like a bowl on the kitchen counter.

‘Stay right there,' James said, planting a quick kiss on her forehead. He turned to the side and leaned over, then stepped into his trunks and stood, pulling them up over his shapely, tight muscles. He had kept himself in good condition over the last several years, no doubt about that. In fact, he seemed in even better shape now. James picked up his trousers and put them on, then fed his top over his head. ‘Back in a sec,' he said with a smile.

Emma stayed on the bed as he went out to the kitchen. She heard him say, ‘Good boy,' to Jackson and, ‘I missed you.' Moments later The Wiggles blared from the TV, and James came back in the bedroom and closed the door.

‘He got his own cereal, and he'll be occupied for the near future, so, we can spend a bit of time alone.' He climbed over the bed and laid his warm body next to her.

Oh, how she'd missed this. Missed him. How many years she'd let slip by without him, but never again.

‘You know, he spoke yesterday. Jackson.'

‘What? Oh my God, James, that's amazing. What did he say?'

‘Bella. My Nonna's name, can you believe it? And right when we spread the ashes.' He shook his head. ‘It was bizarre, surreal.'