Shiver (19 page)

Chapter 25

ETHAN

I
straightened my dark silver tie in the mirror, looking at the reflections of the men behind me. My two longtime friends, whom I didn’t see often but had made it out from California for the occasion, were chatting with my soon-to-be father-in-law. Lawrence and Patrick were standing in the corner laughing together, probably at my expense. I was wearing a light gray suit, which seemed ridiculous because it was hot as balls outside. My own father was conspicuously absent. Lissa was adamant he be invited so that we were the “bigger people.” I’d known he wouldn’t come—no surprise there.

But I didn’t care. About any of it. Waiting on the other side of the wall was my beautiful bride-to-be, wearing some dress she wouldn’t show me, fixing her makeup, and probably sipping champagne with Steph and her sister. I didn’t care about any of it except her. I would have married her at a courthouse the day I proposed. I would have stayed with her even if she’d said no. Hell, I knew it had been a bold move, proposing after just a few months, and especially when she was so young. But I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that I would never regret asking. And if I’d ever doubted she was perfect for me, her saying yes just proved that she was as crazy as me. Perfect.

She wanted the whole shootin’ match, to quote Lawrence. I made her do it as efficiently as possible though. Within the past five months, she’d flown to Dallas for dress shopping, had bridal showers, and registered and all that shit. We had a china pattern. I wasn’t even sure I knew that girly side of her, but I loved it too. I loved that she could kick around in the dirt, sit on any horse, and then muck stalls without batting an eye—looking stunningly gorgeous, I might add—then turn into pure elegance at a black-tie event and charm all our clients. She still fascinated me. And it was a very good thing.

There was a knock on the door, and the event planner poked his head in, telling us to file out. I shook hands with Lissa’s dad, Henry, and he patted me on the back, kind of hard. He cleared his throat to choke back some uncharacteristic tears and looked me in the eye. “See you up there, son.”

I just nodded at him, knowing there wasn’t much to say in that moment.

I met my mom outside, her eyes shining with unshed tears as well. She took my arm and we walked in comfortable silence out to where rows of chairs were strategically placed in the field in front of the giant oak where Ginger was buried. It was a little sentimental, I know. But it was a beautiful spot and it held special meaning. Lissa was all into special meaning. We walked down the aisle with a harp being strummed softly in the background. It was another Indian summer in late September. The sun was getting ready to set, and the sky would be streaming with color pretty soon. Also strategically planned.

I kissed my mom’s cheek and took my place at the front of the aisle. Patrick stood to my left and grinned at me.

“You really wanna marry her?” He grinned at me. “She’s such a pain in the ass.”

I snorted inappropriately. “Yeah, man. She is a pain. But she’s got a great ass.”

“Ugh,” he groaned, rolling his eyes.

“You asked. And don’t make fun of my wife.”

“She’s not your wife yet. I have about ten more minutes.”

We laughed quietly but were silenced when the music changed and the outside world fell away. I’d heard of those moments, but I’d never experienced one before meeting this girl. Those moments swam through my mind as I waited for her to make an appearance: that first kiss in my house, the balcony at New Year’s, the lake, the beach. The list went on because I felt it every time we kissed.

My vision narrowed and focused as she finally showed up at the end of the aisle. She was fucking gorgeous in a long ivory lace dress that hugged each and every curve and little sleeves that tilted over her shoulders. Her dark, sleek hair was pinned up and had probably taken forever to get right, but really it looked just like it did when my hands were tangled up in it. As she got closer, her eyes trained on mine, I stole a glance down to see flip-flops peeking out from under her dress. A bark of laughter escaped me, and I looked back up to catch her shrug and wink.

Henry passed her off to me with a nod, and we stepped up to the pastor. It took some convincing to get a pastor out to the farm, but it was important to Lissa. He started us in a prayer that I tried to concentrate on but failed miserably at. He talked some more and finally we got to turn to each other to exchange the vows I’d been dying to say. She watched my eyes with tears in hers as she slid the gold band onto my finger and I did the same to her, meaning every word I said. Making promises I fully intended to keep.

When the pastor finally said that I could kiss my bride, I stepped closer. Against my instinct to grab her and kiss the breath out of her, I decided to savor this moment. My hand cupped her cheek, and I leaned down as she tipped her head to me. At the first teasing touch of our lips, I felt her shiver and her breath hitch. I couldn’t help but smirk. I loved that shiver.

“Cold?” I whispered against her mouth.

She shook her head almost imperceptibly and a small smile spread over her face as her emerald eyes watched me from under her incredible lashes. That look proved to be my undoing, and I crashed my lips onto hers in a fierce kiss that was wildly inappropriate considering we were standing between a preacher and her father.

I heard laughter and wolf whistles in the background but didn’t pay attention. All I felt was her tears and her smile against my lips, and I moved to whisper in her ear, “All mine now.”

She smiled and whispered back, “Always have been.”

Chapter 26

LISSA

T
WO AND A HALF YEARS LATER

The sound of the front door caused my whole body to sag in relief. I was standing at the kitchen counter staring at the pots and pans and blender and jars littering the space. Our ten-month-old son sat on the floor behind me, playing quietly for once.

Ethan walked in and came up behind me, hands on my hips, dropping a kiss to my neck. The move that used to make me shiver in excitement now made me self-conscious as I looked down at my squishy stomach and dirty pajamas stained in baby food. I couldn’t remember when I’d showered last. I assumed I stunk, but who knew? My standards had changed.

“Thank God you’re home.” I sighed heavily. “Can you take Thomas for ten minutes while I clean up the kitchen and take a shower? He’s happy right now.”

“Sure, babe,” he said quietly, sighing a little to himself.

I could hear it, and it made me sad. But the mess in front of me made me feel even worse. I immediately sparked into action, cleaning and scrubbing and drying. I’d been making baby food for the world’s pickiest child ever. Picky was the wrong word. He pretty much didn’t eat. In an effort to make sure what he did eat was good for him, I made everything. I hadn’t decided if it was worth it or not yet, but it was about the one thing I could control right now, so I embraced it fully.

I was just about to wipe down the counter, having spent the time doing dishes while listening with one ear to what should have been adorable baby laughter and the sound of my husband’s voice while he was playing with our child. But all I could hear was the shower calling my name. Well, until the screaming started. My eyes welled up with tears, and my head dropped to my chest. Taking a deep breath, I planted a fake smile on my face and turned to Ethan, arms outstretched.

“I’m sorry,” he said sincerely as he passed the hysterical child to me. Thomas quieted in my arms as I swung and bounced him tightly to my chest. It was the only way he would stop.

I shrugged. “It’s okay. He’s probably hungry. If he’d eat, then he wouldn’t be so miserable.”

“When do we go down to UVA again?”

“We have an appointment in two weeks, once they get all the biopsy results and blood tests back.”

“Did he take a nap this morning?”

I shrugged again. “Kind of. I had to hold him the whole time, which is why the place is such a mess. I’m sorry. I wanted to have it picked up when you got home.”

Ethan walked over and kissed my forehead. My eyes fluttered shut at the contact, and I took a very deep breath.

“Lissa, I don’t care about any of that. I care about you and our child. I’m worried about you. I always worry about him, but I’m getting really worried about you. You haven’t slept since he was born. You barely eat. You’re not happy. How can we make you happy?” he asked, desperation creeping into his voice.

I started to sniffle and shook my head, walking away.

“Lissa. Talk to me,” he pleaded.

“I’m fine, Ethan,” I said without turning around. “I’m fine. I can handle this. Just give me a sec.”

I heard him let out a loud breath as he walked into the living room. I kissed Thomas on the top of his mop of blond hair as he nuzzled into me. Yes, our baby was blond. It was weird, but Ethan swore he’d been blond as a baby. Truth was, he was bald as a baby, so it was unclear. Thomas had Ethan’s dark brown eyes though, so you could definitely tell who his daddy was. Grabbing a bottle from the fridge, I shook it and walked into the nursery to start the process. First I rocked him and bounced him, holding his pacifier in his mouth. When he was almost asleep, I eased myself into the rocking chair. When he was a little further asleep, I eased the pacifier out of his mouth and quickly switched it with the bottle, shushing him the whole time. Seriously, I got out of breath with all the shushing. Asleep was the only time he’d eat, and even then, I could only get him to eat three-quarters of a bottle if I was lucky. If I was really lucky, it wouldn’t come back up later.

I breathed a sigh of relief as he started drinking, then held my breath as he continued. I closed my eyes and let my head fall back in exhaustion. I knew I was drowning. All my energy was going into a sick kid I couldn’t help. No one could help, apparently. We’d been all over, and no doctors knew what to do. They were hoping he’d outgrow it. I kept arguing that he couldn’t outgrow it because he wasn’t growing! Something had to give.

ETHAN

I rubbed my hands over my face in exhaustion as I flopped onto the couch. We. Were. Drowning. I felt like a shitty father. I couldn’t comfort my son. I couldn’t comfort my wife.

My wife. God, I’d never forget the day she became that. And then, a few months later, when she came to me and told me we were having a baby. I was in awe. Scared shitless, but in awe. And I knew we’d have hard times, figuring out the horses and a baby. No way would I let Lissa ride when she was pregnant. She grumbled about it, but we both knew what could happen on a horse, so it wasn’t difficult to convince her. I ended up having to hire some outside help on occasion, but that hadn’t seemed like a problem because it was supposed to be temporary. She’d only ridden once since we found out she was pregnant, though, and the kid was ten months old. He was too sick and she couldn’t leave his side. That one time she tried, she came back to a screaming kid who wouldn’t let anyone else console him, and that was it. Her entire life was devoted to him. To keeping him alive and figuring out what’s wrong. And I loved her for that. She was so fiercely protective and proactive. There was no question in my mind that our child wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for her. But, selfishly, I missed her too. I even missed things I’d never had, like taking a nap with my son on my chest or holding him up on a horse for the first time. He either couldn’t handle the weather or he couldn’t miss a nap, or a meal. Or he was upset. It was always something, and it was always dramatic.

I heard Lissa tiptoeing behind me, and she quietly padded around the couch and very slowly eased down next to me, Thomas fast asleep on her shoulder. When he was asleep or those short moments when he was happy, he was the most incredible thing I’d ever seen. When he wasn’t, he was like a demon spawn.

I gently put my arm around Lissa, and she leaned her head onto my shoulder. We both sighed. I felt like the only time we actually breathed anymore was when we were touching, and we just weren’t getting enough air.

“I don’t know what to do anymore.” She sniffled, and my chest physically hurt. “I feel like if I stop, if I give up any control, it’s all going to crumble around us. But it’s crumbling anyway.”

I nodded my head and rubbed her arm. “We’re gonna be okay. We need to start looking down some alternate avenues is all.”

“Do you still love me?” she whispered.

I straightened suddenly and the movement caused Thomas to stir. Shit. She shushed him quickly though and he settled back down.

“Lissa, how can you ask me that?”

“This isn’t how it was supposed to be. I’m not… I’m not who you married.”

My hand cradled her cheek as I turned her to face me. “You are who I married. You’re the most incredible mother anyone could imagine. I love you with all my heart. But I miss you. I miss my wife. We can’t keep this up anymore.”

She nodded, chewing her lip. Part of the mouth that I want on mine and wasn’t getting enough time with. Don’t get me wrong, we still had sex. Really fast sex, interrupted at some point by a screaming child. I actually felt bad for Lissa because it was usually not enough time for her to get off and she probably wasn’t in the mood, but I wouldn’t give up reaching for her at every, even slightly, opportune moment. It bound us and connected us when everything else in the world was threatening to tear us apart. And I refused let her think that she was unattractive or unwanted or whatever crazy shit warped that twenty-five percent feminine side of her mind. I always knew when her wheels were turning, and that was usually when I made a grab.

“I’ll figure something out,” she stated.

“You’re not on your own here, baby.
We
will figure something out. And listen, if this is what life handed us, we’ll deal with it. But we have to live our lives as well.”

She just nodded again and snuggled into me. I took another deep breath and pulled her close, sending a silent prayer up that we could make it.