Mended (Connections, #3)(55)

“I know what I want for dinner,” I growl in her ear.

“Blueberry pancakes?” she asks.

“No,” I say, pushing my hard-on against her *.

“Bacon?”

“No, try again.”

“Me.” She giggles as I dip my tongue in her belly button—having decided I may not be able to f*ck her in this boat, but I can certainly put my face between her legs.

When her cries of passion subside, I manage to row us back to shore. We take a shower and she very nicely relieves me of the tent I’ve had in my pants for the past hour. Then we finally get dressed and head to a small local pizzeria for dinner. Being together like this and having fun—it’s the way it used to be, and the way I hope it will stay.

Later, fireworks blaze above the lake as we watch bursts of color paint the sky through the open windows. The air is warm and we lie together in bed, entangled in each other’s arms, discussing our remaining stops and the things we want to explore in each city. When my phone rings, I pick it up and glance at the caller ID. It’s my sister.

“It’s Bell. Let me just see what she wants,” I tell Ivy.

She nods, her fingers skimming the letters down my side.

“Hey, Bell. This isn’t the best time to chat. Can I call you back?”

“Xander.” I tense at my sister’s tone. It sounds like she’s crying, but then she falls oddly silent.

“Bell, what’s wrong?”

“It’s bad, Xander. It’s really bad.”

“Bell, just f*cking tell me.”

“It’s Dahlia. She’s on her way to the hospital. I was over there watching movies with her one minute and then the next minute there was blood everywhere. So much blood.”

I sit up, as alarm and concern course through my body.

“What are you talking about? What happened?” A sick knot forms in my gut.

“I don’t know. I was talking to her and the next thing I know I see blood seeping through the bedsheets. I called nine-one-one, and the ambulance just left. Xander, it’s too soon for the baby.”

I feel myself tremble. “Where’s River?”

“I called him. He’s on his way to the hospital. Xander, you have to come home. We need you.”

Ivy lifts her eyes and I take her hand, holding on tight, wanting to never let go.

“I’ll be there as soon as I can. Call me when you get to the hospital.” I stare silently at Ivy after I end the call. “I have to go home,” I tell her, wrapping my arms around her and pulling her to me.

We leave Niagara Falls in a blur. The one-hour car ride is an emotional one. I don’t want to have to leave her, but I can’t pull her off the tour. For some reason I bring up my father’s suicide again. We discuss it in more detail than I’ve ever told anyone—breaking down, I tell her I think I pushed him too far and that I’m the one who broke him. She’s quiet for the longest time and then she leans over and says, “Xander, people make their own choices—don’t blame yourself for your father’s.”

I squeeze her hand, remembering all those sessions in therapists’ offices when they would say the same thing. The difference when she says it is that I actually want to believe it. She runs her fingers through my hair and around my ear. “I wish you would have told me then, but thank you for telling me now. I understand so much more now.”

We fall quiet as we both immerse ourselves deep in our own thoughts. I blink when I feel her smoothing her fingers through my hair. “I need you. You know that, right?”

My throat tightens as I shift my eyes to hers. “I’ll be back as soon as I can. I’d bring you with me if I could.”

“I know,” she whispers quietly, fidgeting in her seat in the dark.

I stop at a light and turn toward her. I tip her chin to look at me and run my thumb over her lip. “Hey, we are going to be together. We might not know how or where, we might not know what comes after the tour, but we’re going to figure it out and we’ll figure it out together.”

Tears spill from her eyes and I gather her close to me. By the time I pull up next to the bus, I’m a f*cking wreck. Thoughts of her and of my father are mixed with worry for my sister-in-law and my brother.

When we finally arrive it’s really late and everyone is asleep. As soon as I set foot on the bus my phone rings. “Bell, what’s going on?” I answer.

“Oh, Xander, Dahlia had a miscarriage. She lost the baby. She was hemorrhaging and the doctors had to perform an emergency C-section.”

I can’t breathe. I have a hard time saying anything as I sit down and bow my head.

“How is she?”

“I don’t know,” Bell says between sobs.

“I’ll be there soon,” I manage to say and then I hang up.

Ivy’s hand finds my shoulder and I place mine over hers and a few moments later she leads me to the galley. She helps me throw a few things in a bag and within fifteen minutes I’m ready to set off for the airport to catch the red-eye. Tossing my bag in the trunk, I slam it shut and turn to her and pull her to me, holding her tightly. Anxiety and nervousness pulse through me at the thought of leaving her. It’s an incredibly familiar, yet somehow still foreign, feeling.

I place my fingertip over her lips and outline them, then cup the sides of her face and lean in to kiss her. “Bye, gorgeous. I’ll see you in a couple of days.”