Heart-Shaped Hack(77)

The sound of silverware clinking seemed especially loud in the silence that followed, and neither Ian nor Kate even pretended to eat much after that. When the meal was over, Kate thanked Susan and Ian announced they were going to turn in early.

“It’s been a very long day I’m sure,” Susan said. “Please let me know if there’s anything you need.”

“Thank you,” Kate said. “I’m sure I’ll feel better after a good night’s sleep.”

Once they’d returned to the guesthouse, Ian gave Kate one of his Tshirts to sleep in and they got ready for bed. They had to take turns because the tiny bathroom barely had enough room for one. Looking at Ian’s toothbrush in the holder and his razor made Kate think of the identical items that were still sitting on her own bathroom counter. The equally small bedroom contained a queen-size bed and a nightstand. Ian stripped down to his underwear, pulled back the covers, and lay down next to Kate.

“I know you’re upset with me, and you have every right to be, but I really want to hold you.”

“I want to hold you too,” she said. Regardless of how hurt and betrayed she felt, she couldn’t help but think of the dark days after Ian’s death when she’d mourned the loss of him. How she’d cried when she thought of never being able to touch him again. How she would have given anything to feel his arms around her.

Ian was here.

Not dead and cold, but warm and alive and holding her in his arms.

It was pitch-black in the small room. Kate couldn’t see Ian, but she could feel him—his strong arms around her; his bare chest underneath her; his legs entwined with hers. He kissed the top of her head, lips lingering in her hair.

“Is this where you’ve been the whole time?” Kate asked.

“Yes. Whenever I’m between apartments I always end up here. I’m the only one who really uses the guesthouse, and over the years it’s become a second home to me. Phillip and Susan are like family to me.” It made Kate happy to know that Ian wasn’t quite so alone in the world, but except for one brief mention of Phillip, Ian had never talked about the Corcorans.

He began to stroke her head and her body relaxed. “I missed you so much,” he said. “I missed talking to you. I missed walking to dinner with you and hearing about your day.”

“I missed those things too,” she said and tears flooded her eyes.

“Kate,” he said when her tears overflowed and trickled onto his skin. He adjusted their position so they were lying on their sides facing each other and wiped her tears away. “I’m so sorry. Please don’t cry.” He kissed her, and his lips were warm, gentle, fleeting.

But she couldn’t hold back the tears even if she’d wanted to. “Tonight at dinner I was thinking that no one loses someone and then gets them back like this. When someone dies, it’s all you wish for, but it never actually happens. Except that it did. You will never know what that feels like, but I do.”

“I know.” He was holding her tightly, but she wanted more, wanted him to squeeze her like he had on the plane. She wanted to know this was real. This time, it was Kate who brushed her lips against his.

He responded with a kiss of his own, raising his hand to the back of her head to hold her in place, deepening it. She didn’t want him to stop kissing her. He would if she asked him to, but she didn’t.

Their breathing grew ragged as they crushed their mouths together. He moved his hand to her backside and cupped it, pulling her closer until she was pressed tightly up against him. She could feel how much he wanted her, and she needed to make a decision about what would happen next.

She didn’t want to talk or cry or think.

She wanted to feel.

“Kate?” His voice trembled with need.

“Yes.”

He peeled off her T-shirt, slid his fingers under the elastic of her underwear, and dragged them down her legs. Starting at her neck, his fingers moved softly over her collarbone to the slope of her breast, his hands lingering as if he was learning the contours of her body for the first time again. When he closed his mouth around her nipple, she moaned.

His hand drifted lower, skimming over her belly and coming to rest between her legs. She took off his underwear, and he opened her legs enough to enter her. As soon as he did, Kate closed hers around him, holding him tight. They moved together, their movements frantic, desperate, and she cried out his name because it felt so good.

Maybe she shouldn’t have wanted to do this. Maybe she should have told him no. There were decisions to be made, and Kate still had some long, hard thinking to do. But she had missed him desperately, and right then he was what she needed.

He groaned, and Kate knew this wasn’t going to take long for either one of them. Already she could feel the sensations building, and she moved faster, chasing them. She caught up to them and found her much-needed release a minute or two later, and he must have been right there with her because he groaned again, longer and louder this time, and then shuddered and shook inside her as he came.

After, he held her tight, and their heated skin warmed Kate from the outside in, reaching a place that had not been warm since she lost him.

“I love you,” he said.

“You hurt me,” she whispered.

“I didn’t want to.”

They slept facing each other that night, Kate’s head nestled under Ian’s chin, arms around each other, a tangle of legs. Shortly before sunrise, she got up to go to the bathroom, and when she climbed back into bed, he stirred and pulled her back into his arms, holding her as if he couldn’t bear to let her go.