Written with You (The Regret Duet #2)(55)

“We’re not doing this. Not after that.”

Without a care in the world and a desperation to forget, I peeled my shirt over my head, leaving me in a simple, but sexy, white bra.

His gaze jumped to my breasts, but it was the way it flicked to my scar that sent the chill down my spine.

“Willow,” he breathed. After one last perusal, he bit his bottom lip and looked toward the door. “Don’t do this to me. Don’t make me tell you no. I don’t have it in me.”

I prowled closer and peppered kisses across his defined chest. “If you tell me no, I’m going to have to start deleting stars on your date review.”

He let out a growl when I grazed the tips of my fingers across the fabric covering his hard length. And no sooner than I slipped a hand into the front of his pants was I up off my feet, being carried to the bed.

I grinned in victory, eager to shut the world down and lose myself in Caven the way it was always supposed to be.

He dropped me to the bed and followed me down with his upper body, his hands landing on either side of my head. His kiss was deep and greedy, igniting everything from my nipples to my clit. Fighting with his pants, I shoved at them with my hands and my feet.

I needed to feel him.

To close my eyes and block out the rest of the world.

I just needed a few minutes to shut down the side of my brain that haunted me with all the ways I’d failed my sister.

That wasn’t what I was going to get though, because in the next second, Caven flipped me to my side and crawled into the bed behind me, his chest coming flush with my back and his arm going over my hips.

“We’re not doing it like this,” he rasped.

I rolled my hips, finding his cock, thick and straining. “Caven, please.”

“Fuck,” he hissed, clamping down with his arm to stop my movement. “Stop. The last time I was inside you, I thought you were her. I’ll be damned if we are bringing her to bed with us again. You’re hurting, and I get that. I’d give anything to be able to make that stop, but not at the risk of damaging what we have.”

“It’s not going to damage anything,” I argued.

“I know—because it’s not going to happen.” He blew out a long exhale and rested his chin on my shoulder. “I love you. I want a future with you. I want a family and maybe even a fucking dog. But, most of all, I want a bedroom where there isn’t a ghost sitting in the corner. So get some sleep and hopefully some separation. Hadley will always be a part of our lives, but not here. Not in this bed. Not when I’m inside you. And especially not when I’m making love to you for the first time knowing you are my Willow.”

God. This man.

My chest ached. “What if she’s always here?”

“She won’t be.”

“But Rosalee—”

He shifted closer, sliding an arm under my head so we were touching at every possible point, head to foot. “She’s not in here, either. When that door closes, Willow, it’s me and you. Only ever me and you. And that’s not because of Hadley. If by some miracle we have kids sometime down the road, they won’t be in here, either.”

I screwed my eyes shut. “Caven, I can’t…”

He kissed my shoulder. “There are other ways, Willow. You’re twenty-seven and the world changes more every day. You said you have one ovary left. I looked it up. There are fertility treatments and surrogacy. Adoption. Foster care. The options to start a family are endless. Though I’m not suggesting we start trying any time soon. I’d kind of like to have sex with you more than once first. Maybe take you out on a date that doesn’t involve zebras giving birth and quesadillas hidden under the couch.”

I let out a choked laugh. “I’d like that too.”

“What part? Sex, kids, or quesadillas?”

“I don’t know. Maybe all three.”

“Okay. Then go to sleep. Get some distance from the things we talked about tonight, and we can start working on some of those hopefully sooner rather than later.”

I smiled and snuggled in, tangling my legs with his.

My heart was overflowing.

He loved me.

He wanted a future with me—a family even.

And a life that didn’t involve the ghosts of our past.

And God, I wanted all of that more than I wanted my next breath.

He rolled to the side, hitting something on his nightstand and plunging the room into darkness. Then, when he came back to me, he reached over with his cell phone in his hand. On the screen was a live video of Rosalee, fast asleep in her bed, a unicorn stuffed animal tucked to her chest.

Smiling, I took the phone from his hand to get a better look at her. “Wow, you are such a creeper.”

“I’m her father. It’s my job to creep. Just wait until she’s a teenager.”

I put my chin to my shoulder to catch his gaze. “Are you going to be the dad hiding in the bushes when she goes on her first date?”

“Nope.” He plucked the phone away and gave it one last glance before setting it aside. He used his arm around my hips to drag me deeper into his curve. Caven clearly took his job as the big spoon very seriously.

I intertwined our fingers. “And is that because she’s never going on a date?”

“You got it.”