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Reluctantly, Mitch let Hope push herself away to fix her dress which had ridden up her thighs. She was breathing as heavily as he was.
He’d promised himself all they’d do tonight was talk. Problem was, he wasn’t in the mood for talk. As much as he’d enjoyed their conversation, he had a feeling Hope had arrived with another agenda. The same agenda he’d been trying to ignore all night. Ever since Hope walked back into his life he’d felt caught up in something beyond his control. And he didn’t mind in the least.
‘I think we missed dessert,’ he said, trying to steady his breathing.
She chuckled. ‘I can’t believe you’re thinking food.’
He kissed the tip of her nose. ‘I’m a man. Insatiable appetite.’
‘In that case, I’ll feed you dessert, but then you can show me around your house. From what I can see in this room you’ve done an amazing job with the renovations. I thought you had a lot more work to do. When did you finish it?’
He grinned. ‘About four o’clock.’
Confusion wrinkled her brow.
‘Seriously. Don’t touch the walls. The paint is still wet.’
Her eyes flicked around the room. ‘You’re kidding.’
‘I’m not. I haven’t slept in twenty-four hours because I was trying to make this place look habitable. Just don’t judge my bedroom.’ Now he wished he’d finished that room first instead of giving it a cursory coat of paint.
She grinned. ‘Who needs a bedroom? We could always pull the mattress out onto the deck and sleep under the stars.’
He chuckled and his body temperature went up a notch as memories flooded in. ‘Have you checked the weather? We’d freeze out there.’
She leaned in to kiss him again. ‘I’ll keep you warm,’ she murmured.
He jumped to his feet and held out his hand to help her stand. ‘In that case, let’s skip dessert and I’ll show you around.’
Colour stormed her cheeks, but she didn’t hesitate. Leaning in, she kissed him hard on the mouth, then broke away and grinned. ‘Are you sure I can’t tempt you with vanilla cheesecake.’
He released her with another groan. She was tempting him alright. ‘You’re kidding me. How am I supposed to choose between kissing you and eating cheesecake?’
‘Nothing stopping us from having both,’ she replied with a wink.
He followed Hope into the kitchen and found plates and forks. She cut a generous wedge of cheesecake, topped it with whipped cream and berry jus from a plastic container and handed him a plate. She took a fork and the other plate, and they stood next to each other at the kitchen bench.
He took a bite of cheesecake, then moaned, ‘Delicious.’
Hope laughed. ‘Didn’t Beth teach you not to talk with your mouth full?’
He plunged his fork into the creamy goodness and took another bite. ‘They were right.’
‘About what?’
‘The way to my heart is definitely my stomach. You are welcome to bring me food any time you like. This is what a man needs.’
‘I’m glad. But I did warn you I can’t cook. It might be fish and chips next time.’
He set his empty plate on the bench. ‘That’s what I’ve always liked about you, Hope. You don’t play games.’
‘Not much point.’
He nudged her with his hip. ‘Some games are fun.’
She looked up at him, eyes twinkling like they had on the beach seventeen years ago. Except the little beach shack where they’d made love was now his house and they were less than ten steps from his bedroom.
He cleared his throat. ‘How about I give you that tour?’
After showing her around the house and pointing out all the things he’d done and the things he still had planned, he led her down the hallway to his bedroom.
‘This is lovely.’ She sank onto the end of his bed and glanced around. ‘It will be amazing when it’s finished.’
He looked at it through her eyes. It was a large room, easily big enough for his king-sized bed, but too masculine. He’d run out of time to hang curtains over the French doors that led onto the deck and no artwork adorned the walls. His bedside furniture was non-existent other than a timber chair which served as a table for his phone, wallet and a book.
She stared up at him, wearing an expression he found hard to read. His heart thundered. Had she changed her mind?
He licked his lips. ‘Do you want another drink?’
She shook her head and patted the bed next to her. ‘We need to talk.’
Talking was the last thing on his mind but he sat next to her. How many more elephants were there? A whole herd?
‘Do you remember that night?’ she asked.
She didn’t need to elaborate. ‘I remember every detail like it happened yesterday.’ In glorious technicolour.
‘Me too. It was the most memorable moment of my life.’ She smiled. ‘You set the bar very high.’
He grunted. ‘Doubt it.’ He might have set the bar high, but the next day he’d proven what a jerk he was.
‘No one has ever come close to making me feel the way you did, Mitch.’
Heavy silence filled the room. He stared at his shoes instead of the thick-skinned, grey pachyderm in front of him.
‘What I want to know is, why didn’t you call me?’ Hope’s voice cracked.
He let out a long sigh. ‘I’m worried that whatever I say now will sound like an excuse.’
‘Or an explanation.’
He nodded.
‘I didn’t know what I’d done wrong,’ she said softly.
‘Oh, Hope.’ He shifted position to face her. ‘You didn’t do anything wrong. It was all me. It was my fault. I should have called.’
Tears welled in her eyes, but she blinked them away before he had a chance to wipe them. He linked their fingers and waited for her to meet his gaze. ‘That night was the first time anyone other than Beth or Bill had told me they loved me.’
Her eyes widened but she stayed quiet.
‘I’d gone twenty-two years without hearing anyone except my foster parents say those two simple words.’ He squeezed her fingers. ‘But you were leaving the next day, and I was gutted. I felt like every time I loved someone, they left.’
She frowned. ‘But you knew I’d be back the following year, like always. And we could have stayed in touch. I know writing letters isn’t the same but . . .’
He released her hands and gently touched the pulse point at her neck. ‘I didn’t know whether you’d feel the same way about me when you came back. A year is a long time.’
‘So, you decided it was easier to let me go and not say anything?’
‘Something I’ve regretted from that moment and every moment since.’
They were both silent for a while, lost in their own thoughts.
‘Because of what we shared that night, I’ve never found anyone else that has made me feel like you do,’ Mitch said.
Hope looked up at him. ‘Is that why you’re still single?’
‘Yes and no.’
She waited.
He sighed ‘Truth is, I’m scared.’
‘Of what?’
‘The other night at the pub you asked me if I believed in happy endings.’
Hope nodded.
‘I said yes, but my greatest fear is falling in love and having that person leave me.’
‘I’m not like your mother.’
‘I know that up here.’ He tapped his head. ‘But here?’ He balled his hand into a fist and held it against his heart. ‘In here, I haven’t learned that.’
‘Yet,’ Hope said.
‘Yet,’ he repeated.
They sat, side by side on the bed, staring at the darkened French doors, seeing nothing but their own reflection.
‘You were everything to me back then,’ Mitchell said finally. ‘I’m not sure you even realised. Yeah, we were friends, part of the group, but you were so much more to me. You taught me how to love, and how to be loved and I’ll always be grateful for that, even if nothing comes of it.’
‘I just wish you’d called.’
‘I wish I’d called too.’
‘Where does this leave us now?’ she asked, repeating the same question that had pinged in his head continually.
He traced the pattern on the doona cover. ‘I wish I knew the answer to that. All I know is I can’t get you out of my head. I think about the past, then I think about our future. Then I panic, worried you’re going to leave again.’
He watched her swallow.
‘I can’t promise I’ll stay, Mitch.’
‘I know. And that’s what makes this so hard. So confusing. I don’t want to make you stay, but unless you do, I can’t see how this can work.’
She smiled and took his hand again. ‘What about we both stop overthinking things and just live in the moment.’
His heart rate picked up. Was he misreading the meaning between the lines?
‘Are you sure?’ he asked.
‘I wouldn’t be here in your bedroom if I didn’t want this to happen.’
He softly stroked her cheek. ‘I don’t want this to be awkward tomorrow.’
‘If it is, we’ll deal with it.’
‘What about your . . . ah . . . your leg?’ He didn’t want that to be awkward either.
She hesitated so long he worried—yet again—she’d had a change of heart.
‘Are you okay if I take it off?’
He nodded.
She hitched up her dress to mid-thigh, pulled off her boots then slipped off her tights. After removing the silicone cover, she took off the prosthesis itself then rolled down the silicone liner and removed the thick sock encasing her stump.
He didn’t want to stare, but his eyes were drawn to it like a moth to light. Her left leg stopped just below the knee in a neat, rounded end. He wasn’t repulsed by what he saw. It was just an amputation and he’d seen plenty in his years as a vet. He felt no emotion other than a deep sense of sadness for everything Hope had endured over the years. The cancer diagnosis and the chemo would have been hard but the surgery and the rehab even more difficult.
She slowly lifted her eyes to meet his and when her bottom lip wobbled his heart nearly broke. Would she believe him if he told her he’d loved her with two legs and losing one didn’t change his feelings for her?
He smiled as he stroked her hair. ‘It doesn’t bother me, Hope.’
She nodded, but he still felt the tension coursing through her.
He took his time, moving slowly, the way he would with a frightened animal. He gently slipped her dress over her head, carefully folding it and laying it over the back of the chair. By the time she was in nothing except her bra and knickers he could barely contain his desire. She was stunning.
He cupped her face with one hand and softly kissed the tender area at the base of her throat. He felt her stiffen for a second then she took a breath and relaxed. He drew back and studied her face, watched her blush under his scrutiny before her eyes softened. She tilted her head and when she leaned in to kiss him and tightened her grip around his waist, a smouldering heat rushed through him. She slanted her head further and deepened the kiss.
He trailed his hands down her rib cage from her breasts to her hips before running up her back. She sighed with pleasure and Mitchell’s need, desire, lust and longing tumbled together until he could barely hold it in. He pulled her close again and kissed her tenderly before easing back the covers and gently picking her up and laying her on the fresh sheets.
He kicked the bedroom door shut. ‘Don’t want the dogs to barge in on us.’
Pulling off his shirt and jumper he tossed them on the floor before unbuckling his belt, toeing off his shoes, ripping off his socks and stepping out of his jeans. He’d never undressed so quickly.
Once they were side by side on his bed, he stroked her face, before running his hands over her shoulders, along her arms, and down towards the curve of her hip. His kept his touch light, not wanting to rush her.
‘What are you thinking?’ he asked.
She smiled. ‘How much I don’t want you to stop doing that,’ she said.
‘Anything else?’
‘How much I want you to hurry up.’
He chuckled. ‘I didn’t want you to think I was rushing you.’
‘You’re going too slow.’
He pulled her tight against his body, so they were chest to chest, and looked deep into her eyes. ‘Are you sure this is what you want?’
She nodded. ‘Very sure.’
He kissed her hard on the mouth. ‘I’m all yours.’
‘Again,’ she breathed.