Until You (The Redemption, #1)(61)



“You’re really good with the girls is all. One would think you might have done this before.”

“I haven’t had the chance yet. Besides, I’d never leave my kids behind. I’d rather die than . . .” My words trail off, my kneejerk reaction falling flat, as the thought hits me. His own wife did just that. Left. Walked away and left their girls behind. I’m sure she probably would have said the same thing too when they first met.

I think he gets my train of thought because he shakes his head ever so slightly and meets my eyes as if to say that’s not what he meant. That’s not what he was searching for when he asked the question. “I’d hate for you to not take the chance at having kids yourself someday because some asshole robbed you of that dream for one reason or another.”

Our eyes hold in the dim light, the apology heavy in his before it slowly changes back into somberness. I don’t know what to do or say or how to fix things I can’t fix, but before I can decide, Crew reaches out and pulls me closer to him. Against him. I freeze momentarily because the girls are still awake, and they could come down the stairs at any moment.

“Crew. The girls—”

“No. Just . . . I just need this, okay?”

His words hit me with a resounding thud. His vulnerability humbling. “Of course.” I snuggle in closer, curling my legs up under me, and resting my head on the crook of his arm and shoulder while resting a hand on his chest.

His heart beats softly, strongly, against my cheek while I can all but feel his mind mulling something over and over. I just wish those thoughts of his had words to go with them.

“I’m sorry you had to quit teaching, quit dancing. That must’ve been hard. Devastating.”

I give a subtle nod, trying to figure out what to say. Were the girls right today about his meeting and his possible return to the force? Am I right to assume what is bugging him has to do with that?

Somehow, this man knows what to say to me at all times. He takes a back seat to tend to my needs when I don’t even realize they are needs.

How selfish am I that I didn’t stop to think he might need someone too? That the strength I see him exude every day is much like mine—masking a pain or fear beneath that you don’t want anyone to know or see or understand?

“I’m sorry you haven’t been cleared to return to work. That must be brutal.”

His body tenses against mine, his sigh long and heavy before he finally responds. “It is. I guess. I don’t even know anymore.”

His tone guts me. The sadness and confusion woven in with a touch of lost little boy. I want to wrap my arms around him and hold him close, but I’m not sure if that’s what he wants. Will he see it as me pitying him? As me thinking he’s weak?

This is uncharted territory for me, and the last thing I want to do is make a wrong move. Say the wrong thing.

“Do you want to talk about it? Whatever’s been on your mind tonight?” I ask and run my hand up and down his chest as if that’s going to help anything.

“Not particularly,” he says and then stands abruptly so that I almost fall over without him supporting me from behind. He holds a hand out to me and smiles. “Come on.”

I look around the room and then back to him like he’s crazy. “Come on? Where are we going?”

His answer comes in the form of grabbing my hand and pulling me off the couch.

“Crew?” His name starts out as a laugh and ends in a sigh as he pulls me against him, his lips finding mine in the softest, sweetest of kisses.

“It’s not ballet, Tenny,” he murmurs as his feet begin to move to the music, “but we can definitely make you dance again.”

He takes my hand in his while he slides his other one so that his palm presses against my lower back, and we begin to move. The family room is now our dance floor. His lead is now what I follow. His compassion, when clearly he’s hurting, deserving of the tears that well in my eyes.

“Don’t cry,” he whispers and presses a kiss to my lips before spinning me slowly out and then pulling me back in against him.

We dance around the small space. Him selflessly trying to bring me a piece of something that once made me happy while I accept it and helplessly know I can’t return the favor.

I can’t give him his work back.

His life back.

And just like that, I’m reminded that there is a world beyond Redemption Falls for Crew Madden. One that has danger and another house where all his things are probably folded in neat stacks.

One without me in it.

The thought hits me hard, and this time when the tears well, I don’t fight them. I let them spill over as I’m reminded in one of the most romantic moments of my life that my time with him is almost half over.

That I need to soak up everything I can because before I know it, the summer will be over, and he’ll be gone.

“Don’t cry,” he says and kisses the tear tracks on my cheeks as we move around the room.

“I can’t do the same for you,” I whisper, the tears falling a bit harder. “I can’t help you get back to what you love.”

“Shh. Don’t.” Another tender kiss. A lean back so that his hands can frame the sides of my face so I don’t dismiss his next words. “You’re giving me more than I ever expected.”

When I meet his lips this time, I pour all the emotion rioting inside of me into it. Into him. Into this man who came so unexpectedly into my life and has made it so much better in so many ways. I didn’t know if I’d ever trust a man again, if I’d ever feel so connected with someone. If I’d ever love again.

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