Shattered Heart (The Hart Series) (16 page)

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Authors: Ann Stewart,Stephanie Nash

BOOK: Shattered Heart (The Hart Series)
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“Shhh…”  His
voice is soothing and the rumble from his chest is a lullaby that I could
listen to on repeat for the rest of my life.  “It’s okay,” he repeats over and
over while his hand brushes over my hair before running up and down the length
of my spine.  Just being close to him, listening to his heartbeat, inhaling his
scent, makes the world disappear. 

In my idyllic
world this wouldn’t be happening.  We’d still be together and the time apart
would have been nothing more than a business trip.  In my ideal world, I would
have surprised him with a picture of an ultrasound and we’d make love all night
in celebration.  Because even though I know we didn’t expect this, we’d be able
to handle this together.  In my perfect world, we’d spoil the hell out of our
baby and spend forever loving our perfect little family. 

But I don’t have
a perfect world.  My existence is this painful reality.  No, instead I’m here,
a big, sloppy, blubbering mess with Alex.  He’s the only thing holding me
together.  He’s the only reason I’m not lying on the floor of the bathroom waiting
for the world to crumble on top of me. 

What chaos this
baby must feel being inside me. 
I’m sorry little one.  Why couldn’t you
have waited awhile longer before coming into this world?  Your Mommy and Daddy
just don’t have things quite figured out yet.

Alex’s hold is
constant, no matter how many tears I shed or how many sobs are muffled by the
muscles of his chest.  Finally, when I’ve run out of tears, I risk titling my
head back.  He still has that look of worry, but he attempts a small smile and
begins to brush the hair away from my face.  How can he even look at me?  I
know I’m a mess with my red face and snotty nose.  If I were him, I’d be
questioning why he was even attracted to me in the first place. 

 “You okay now?”
he asks, his hands continue to push back my hair and stroke my cheek.

No.
  It takes every
ounce of strength I have left to nod.

“You gonna tell
me what’s wrong?”  I try to look away but Alex grabs my chin and forces me to
meet his gaze.  I shake my head, still unable to speak.  I’m worried that the second
I open my mouth I’ll vomit the fact that I’m pregnant. 

His brows furrow
but his hands continue to soothe me as they move from my face to the nape of my
neck.  My heavy eyelids close with the touch of his fingers strumming over my
skin.  Alex holds me like I’m fragile, like he’s afraid he’s going to break
me.  “Do you want me to leave?”

I shake my head,
eyes widening at the thought, which is probably one of the most honest
reactions I’ve had towards him since…well, since dinner.  My brain knows that
I’m supposed to fight my feelings for him.  I know I’m supposed to push him
away so we can avoid confusing this matter further.  It’s been hard enough
asking Alex for distance when I want nothing more than to keep him near.  But
my heart is desperate to have him close.  My body desires his warmth and our
unborn child deserves to have some moments of peace in this chaotic body. 

“Do you want to
sit down?”  I nod and Alex lifts me, his hands grip my thighs as he walks us to
the couch.  I know the last thing on my mind should be sex, but the moment he
walked through the door, my body was already doing summersaults.  Now, with his
hands cradling my thighs and his svelte body so close to the apex of my
legs…the only thing I can think of is unbridled pleasure.

Alex sits on the
couch with me straddled in his lap.  We always seem to end up like this, but
instead of kissing me and ripping off my clothes, he strokes my cheek before
sliding over and setting me next to him.  Lifting my legs into his lap, Alex
takes my foot and starts to apply pressure to the arch.  While I rest my guilt
ridden head on the back of the couch, I’m taken back by his ability to be so
tender, especially when I don’t deserve it. 
 

“Are you upset
about dinner?”  His head tilts, looking at me through his long, thick lashes. 
I shake my head. 
Of course he would think I was upset about dinner. 
Not
to say that dinner was a success, but I completely understand Alex’s reaction
to Oliver being there.  I can’t even imagine how I would feel if I saw him with
another woman, let alone a woman who pissed me off every chance she got.

Alex shifts his
attention to my other foot and a moan escapes my lips as he applies pressure to
the sensitive area between my toes.  He chuckles.  “You like that, huh?”  A
sweet smile touches his face and those amazing dimples are finally present. 
Lazily, I graze his left cheek with my pointer finger and notice how long his
hair has gotten. 

“You need a
haircut.”  I struggle to speak, as if there’s no air in my lungs.  Although my
body is completely relaxed, thanks to his skillful hands, my chest still feels
heavy. 

Alex’s muscles
tense as he runs his hands through his hair.  “I guess it has been awhile…” he
pauses, resting his hands on my knee.  “I can’t help but think that I’m the
cause of all this,” he gestures towards me.  “I don’t know what happened when I
left or after you left me in New York.  All I know is that you keep pushing me
away.” 

God…this isn’t
the conversation I wanted to have right now. 
I want to stop
him from uttering another word.  I want to pull him against me and show him how
much I’ve missed him.  I want to explain to him I’ve been trying to figure
things out, but I can’t find the words.   All my body seems to know is how to
form more tears.

“Are you with
Oliver now?  Is this what this is all about?”  I frown at him as I shake my
head.  I hate that we keep coming back to this.  It’s a constant question Alex
always falls back on, his insecurities showing.

“Am I hurting
you?”  What a loaded question.  What he fails to understand is that there are
many forms of pain; the worst being the incessant ache that throbs in my chest
when he’s near.  Being around him is like being stranded in the desert.  Alex
is my cool glass of water that I’m dying to take a sip of.  I want to devour
him and feel the comfort of having him, but it’s a mirage.  Happiness is all a
damn mirage.

“Daily…” I
murmur.  What he doesn’t realize is the pain I feel from our inability to be
together and not by his actions.  How I wish I could tell him that none of this
is his fault.  He’s always within reach and so eager to give himself.  He knows
we belong together and because of this, I’m constantly at battle with myself to
give in.  To go against my word of keeping him safe, just to fulfill my own
needs. 

But isn’t that
how we got into this predicament in the first place; me giving into my wants
and needs.

“Fuck Elyssa, I
can’t win with you.  One moment it feels as if I’m still here,” Alex lifts his
hand, resting it over my heart.  “But the next, it feels as if you are a
million miles away.  As if you’ve put some arbitrary wall between us.  I keep
banging myself up against it, but all I’m doing is beating the shit out of
myself.” 

I bite my lower
lip and hide my face in my hands.  “I’m sorry, Alex,” my words muffled.

“Don’t be
sorry,” Alex pulls my hands down and pulls me closer to him.  “If anything…you
made me realize what I was missing.  I never realized how lonely I was until I
found you.  It wasn’t until I lost you, that I truly know how alone I am.”  His
words cut me.  I’ve ripped his heart out, stomped on it, picked it back up and
stomped on it some more. 

“I know I’m
making things more difficult for you.  You are just so hard to let go.”  I can
feel his breath on my neck as he rests his forehead against my shoulder. 
Reaching up I run my fingers through his long locks and rest my hands on the
back of his neck.  “I won’t do this anymore.  You said you needed time and…I
never wanted this.  I thought you were just hesitant about my past, about
finding out about Arianna.  I thought if I convinced you that I’ve been different
since you, that we could forget about this, but I’ll try to give you what you
need.”  He sighs in defeat.  “It’s just so fucking hard.” 

I hug him
tighter, clinging to his tense body, breathing him in.

I wish I could
pause this moment.  I want nothing more than to live in his embrace, have him
comfort me as I comfort him.  Instead, Alex glances at his watch, and shatters
our seemingly perfect moment.  “It’s getting late.  I should put you to bed.”

In a panic, I
wrap my arms tighter around him.  “Please don’t leave…I…please, Alex, don’t
leave.”  My nails dig into his skin as I cling to him. 

The alarm in my
voice threatens to dissolve what little hold Alex has, and when he reaches for
me, I race to climb into his arms.  I sigh in relief when he lifts me and heads
towards the bedroom. 

Setting me on
the bed, he stands next to me and pauses.  Watching him, I notice his eyes rake
over my body landing on my grief stricken face.  With resolve, Alex commands me
to lift my arms and you know my body willingly complies.  It always will.  He
reaches down to find the hem of my blouse, his fingers caress the skin right
above the waistband of my skirt.  As he lifts the flimsy material over my head,
his fingers graze over my ribs, sliding against the side of my breasts.  My
body was riddled with exhaustion, but now my heart races as he eyes the tops of
my breasts peeking out from the lacy cream material of my bra. 

Alex groans,
closing his eyes, as he pushes me back against the comforter of my bed and
kneels in front of me.  His large hands grip the waist of my skirt.  His
forearms graze down my thighs as he tugs, leaving me bare in only my
undergarments.  My skin is covered in goosebumps.  Alex stands, towering over
me; an internal battle wages, eyes full of need and lust, chest heaving as he
appreciates my exposed body. 

I want him just
as much as he wants me.  It’s evident, not only with the rapid rise and fall of
my chest or the overwhelming scent of my arousal, or the way my eyes
practically beg him to touch me. 

With a sigh,
Alex reaches for the head of the bed and pulls down the sheets.  “Get in,” he
demands.  I crawl in and look up at him, begging him with my eyes to stay.

Alex shakes his
head, answering my unspoken question.  He leans down and places a swift kiss on
my forehead and turns to leave, but I can’t let him get away.  Not tonight. 
So, I do the only thing I can think of and reach out and grab his shirt. 
“Please Alex…”

Conflicted, he
searches my face.  It only takes a moment, but I see when resolve leaves his
body.  It’s as if all air is expunged, leaving him only with his last sigh. 
Alex turns and begins to unbutton his dress shirt.  The cotton fabric falls
from his broad shoulders, allowing me to study the curvature of his muscles;
the peaks and dips of his chest, his shoulders, and biceps.  His defined abs
make me quiver as his muscles flex while he loosens his belt.  Within seconds
Alex is naked except for the thin cotton fabric of his black Calvin Klein boxer
briefs.  He may have let his hair grow longer than normal, he may not shave as
frequently as he should, but the man doesn’t let his body go to waste.

“Scoot over.” 
Even though it sounds as if he’s ordering me, his voice shows patience and care
so I move and rest on my side.  The click of the lamp is the only sound before
his body pushes up against me.  He doesn’t ask permission, but then again, he
doesn’t need to.  

He pulls me
closer.  I can feel his arousal against my back and even though it would be
easy for him to press the issue, he doesn’t.  Instead he rests his hand on my
belly.  I’m not sure if it’s the pregnancy hormones, but the moment his hand
touches where our unborn child lays, my lips tremble as I struggle with my
emotions.  This might be the closest our baby will ever get to his or her Dad. 
After tonight, I know I can’t tell Alex.  He’s having a hard enough time as it
is; imagine if a child was involved.  We would both ruin him and he would
resent us.  No.  He can never know.

I rest my hand
on his, the three of us joined for the briefest of moments.  I close my eyes
and hope to dream of the family I should have, but know that when I wake in the
morning, Alex will be gone. 

 

Friday, November 23, 2012

Knock! Knock!
Knock!

My eyes flutter
and I groan. 
Who the hell is here at this ungodly hour? 
I glance at my
alarm clock and notice that it’s already ten in the morning. 
Okay, maybe
it’s not as early as I thought it was.
  With my head throbbing, my eyes
struggle to open while my sleep intruder continues to pound on my front door.

Geez…
  “I’m coming!”
I yell, my voice croaks and my heart aches as I pull myself from the emptiness
of my bed.  I notice the remnants of last night still lying on my floor.  The
clothes Alex helped me remove before he slid inside my bed still remain, along
with his tie.  His tie; it’s the only proof that he was here.  That he had his
arms wrapped around me while I cried for him, for us, for our baby. 

I pull a t-shirt
and boxer shorts from my drawer before I shuffle my feet to the door.  The cold
air rushes in as does my sister who immediately engulfs me.  My arms are pinned
at my side, forcing me to shut the door with my foot.  “Rach?”

No words, just
sobs as she awkwardly clings to me. 
Lord how many tears can we shed in such
a short amount of time?  Hart women must have an unlimited supply. 
“Rach,
what’s wrong?”  I pry my arms out of her death grip and hold her close.  The instant
she lifts her face and our eyes meet, I see pity and know exactly what has her
so upset.  “He told you, didn’t he?”

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