Unseen Messages(117)

She’d had a birthday and not told anyone.

And Conner, being a typical teenager, forgot.

We were so far removed from celebrations and anniversaries that I hadn’t even thought to plan.

Poor thing.

When we’d first arrived, Conner had mentioned Pippa turned eight in a few months. However, I’d never asked the date because I’d believed we’d be with our respective families long before the party. What was worse was...I doubted I would’ve remembered if he had told me. My brain wasn’t exactly my friend these days.

But I was wrong.

The months had passed, and we were still here.

And no one had made a fuss of such a precious girl.

I cuddled her harder, pouring as much affection as I could to make up for our error. Pippa had tried to be brave, not wanting to make a fuss because she was old enough to understand that our circumstances were different now but still fanciful enough to wish for a perfect soiree.

Galloway caught me rocking Pippa to sleep just before dawn. Our attraction and unfinished business stretched to wrecking point.

My nipples tingled. My core liquefied. And everything inside me wanted to hold him, apologise, and forget what’d happened. Pretend we’d never given in, never screwed it up, and try again with a clean slate.

Why can’t I do that? Why can’t I go back in time and do better?

But I couldn’t go back. I could only fix forward.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered.

He smiled sadly. “Nothing to apologise for.”

Somehow, after days of cross tension, it dissolved...just like that.

Our relationship transcended miscommunication and mistakes. It was more mature than snippy arguments and cold shoulders.

I’m so very, very lucky.

Leaving his bed, he tiptoed toward us. His limp stabbed my heart with a thousand love-filled regrets. Slowly, he bent and kissed the top of my head. “Next time...trust me.”

He wants a next time...thank God.

His blue eyes glowed. “If I make a promise, Estelle, I keep that promise. And I promise I’ll do whatever you want. I’ll kiss you however you need. I’ll make love to you no matter your fears.”

He captured my lips with his.

The kiss was soft and stolen. His touch sent pinwheels of togetherness through my blood.

I sighed into his mouth.

Licking me softly, he moved his lips, trailing warm kisses across my jaw to my ear. His breath was sinfully hot as he whispered, “I’ll make you come over and over, Stel, but if it means I’ll never have the pleasure, then fine. I can live without if it means you live with more.”

His gaze found mine again. “You don’t have to be scared of me or of being together...promise me you won’t keep us apart.”

There was so much to say. So much to admit and so much apologising to do.

But now was not the place.

Tasting him on my lower lip, I murmured, “Tonight. Can we go somewhere and talk.”

A half-smile danced across his face. “Talk?”

“Talk...for now.” I blushed. “But who knows what will happen when I get sick of speaking.”

He chuckled. “Fair enough. It’s a date.”

A date.

A delighted shiver ran down my spine.

I hadn’t been on a date in forever. And now, I had one with the sexiest, most amazing man I’d ever met.

I’m beyond lucky.

Once again, I found myself slipping. After tossing my bottled message into the sea, I’d noted where and for how long I forgot that this existence was only temporary and not something I wanted.

I didn’t know if I should be happy or sad that I had more moments of contentedness (from watching Pippa playing with the broken deck chair, Conner unravelling the fishing net, and Galloway patching up the roof while shirtless) than I ever did while staring out to sea, waiting for a boat or plane (a habit we all did but somehow, had become less poignant and more inconvenient) to find us.

Dropping his eyes, Galloway whispered, so as not to wake Pippa, “What’s wrong? Nightmare?”

White-blonde hair fell over my eye as I looked down at her. “It was her birthday yesterday.”

The pain and anguish on his face stitched up my heart until it burst with blood-soaked strings.

“Bloody hell. I remember how important birthdays were at that age. God, we royally screwed up.”

We.

As in...us...her parents.

I knew she wasn’t ours biologically, but fate had given her to us. She was ours now. Conner, too. No matter what happened, I wouldn’t let them go.

Galloway ran a hand over his face, shedding any remaining sleepiness. “We’ll fix it.”

“How?” I stroked her hair, never breaking the trance I’d put her in. “We don’t have any presents, no cake, no friends to invite.”

He stood to his tall height, ideas blazing in his eyes. “Leave it to me.”

“But—”

“No buts. I’ll fix this.” He left without another word, slipping wordlessly into the dawn.





Chapter Forty-Four


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G A L L O W A Y

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I WAS AN only child, but that didn’t mean I didn’t know how to throw a party.