"Are you sure?" She stopped just inside her front door to face him. "Are you really ready to give up your life in Frankfurt and move here? I would never expect you to do that, especially this quickly. No one would."
"I've never been more sure." But this wasn't just about him, so he had to ask, even if the answer might not be the one he wanted to hear. "What about you? Earlier today, you said I was moving too fast." He stroked her cheek, needing to touch her. "Do you want me to move here? Do you want me with you? Or do you need some space, some time?"
"Of course I want you here with me," she said, sending a massive rush of relief coursing through him. "But what if you resent me one day for asking you to drop everything in your life and turn on a dime?"
"The only thing I'd resent is getting on an airplane on Monday to fly five thousand miles from the woman I love. I don't want to tell you I love you over Skype. I want to hold you in my arms when I say it." He was glad to see a small smile appear on her lips as he lowered his mouth to hers. When he was barely a breath away, he said, "I love you."
Their kiss was full of passion--and so much love it humbled him.
"You haven't gotten the grape juice off," she said as she ran her tongue over his collarbone. "Why don't I help you with that?"
Without waiting for his reply, she began stripping away his clothes, pulling his T-shirt over his head, then unzipping and shoving his jeans to the floor. Utterly mesmerized by her, before he knew it, she had her own clothes off and then was taking his hand in hers to lead him into the shower.
She turned the water on, then sat him down on the tiled seat at the far end. The warm spray rushed over her skin, rivulets of water streaming over her breasts and stomach as she picked up the soap and lathered up her hands.
Gently, with her palms moving across his skin, she ran soap bubbles over him. First over his face and neck, then down his shoulders and arms. Lifting his hands, she placed them on her stomach as she re-lathered with the soap, then worked on rubbing each finger with the bubbles, one at a time, to wash away the last traces of grape juice.
He loved the care she took with him. He could feel more than desire in her touch--he could feel her love for him in every stroke, every caress, as she made her way down his chest, his stomach muscles jumping beneath the light brush of her fingertips. By the time she started running her hands over his thighs, he didn't think he could handle much more. If she kept touching him like this, he was going to lose it long before he got a chance to reciprocate by lathering up her skin the same way.
"It's your turn now," he said, but when he got up to change places with her, she put her hand on his chest and gently pushed him back.
"It is my turn," she agreed, "but I don't need you to clean me up right now. I need you to fill me up."
He groaned at her deliciously filthy words as she reached for one of the condoms that they'd decided to keep stashed in the shower.
Slowly, perfectly, she lowered herself over him, and even as pleasure shot higher and higher, taking them both over the edge together, relief was there too.
Relief that after all these years, her heart was his--and his was hers.
Relief that she had allowed him to take her to the transplant center for the tests and was considering letting him help her.
Relief that she seemed so vibrant and healthy today, despite everything he'd read on her doctors' reports.
Making love with Taylor--and holding her close--was exactly what he needed tonight. All day he'd wanted to be strong for her. He'd wanted to make sure she laughed, rather than cried. He'd wanted her to focus on hopes rather than fears.
But the truth was that by this time of night, pretending he wasn't scared took a hell of a toll on him.
Burying his face against her chest, he let water from the shower cover the tears he suddenly couldn't hold back. And all the while, Taylor held him just as tightly.
Knowing it would be the very best way to build up their reserves of strength, after drying each other off with plush white towels, they slid together beneath the covers and kept on holding each other tight until morning.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
As they headed through her garden the next morning, Taylor felt a million times better than she had twenty-four hours ago on their way to the transplant center. All because of Justin, who had made sure to keep them busy enough all afternoon that for once, while her worries still lingered in the background, they hadn't been front and center.
He was so good for her. She'd always known it, but in college, she had been too scared of rejection--and stepping outside of her comfort zone--to try for being more than just his friend. Even earlier this week, if he hadn't boldly taken her in his arms and tempted her to stop hiding from her desires, she likely would have wimped out.
Thankfully, as they walked up the back steps, then opened the kitchen door, she didn't need to worry about that anymore. All those wasted years with her ex were nothing more than a lukewarm memory.
At least, she'd thought the past was firmly in the past...until she saw who was sitting in her kitchen drinking a cup of coffee.
"Bruce?" She blinked hard once, then again. Surely she couldn't be seeing what she thought she was seeing.
Her ex-boyfriend got up, his arms wide as though to hug her, then he stopped short as Justin came inside, the door slamming behind him.
"What are you doing here?" Justin's words were more growled than spoken.
Taylor had an instinctive urge to hold her arms out wide too, to block the two men from going after each other. Bruce had never been a particularly physical guy, but she'd never seen this kind of jealousy in his eyes either.
As for Justin, she could feel the heat of his fury behind her without turning to look.
"Your mother called me," Bruce said. "She told me what you've been going through. She said you needed me." He spoke as though Justin wasn't in the room, focusing only on her. "I took a red-eye to be here for you, baby."
"She isn't your baby." Justin sounded even less civil now, if that was possible. He took a step forward, but she put her hand on his chest.
"Justin." She had to say his name a second time to get him to look at her. "I'll deal with this."
She could see his indecision, knew he wanted to throw her ex out the door personally. But she also knew he trusted her not only to be able to deal with her ex, but also to know that she'd made the right choice in choosing him over Bruce.
At last, he said, "I'll be just outside if you need me."
"Thank you."
But he wouldn't let her go that fast, not without a kiss, one so possessive it should have made the feminist inside her protest. Instead, she went utterly weak in the knees, glad to be his, to know that he didn't just possess her, she possessed him too. In every way--mind, body, heart, soul.
He gave Bruce a look of warning as he passed him in the kitchen, one that promised swift and painful retribution if he hurt her in any way. She appreciated how badly Justin wanted to protect her, but she knew firsthand that Bruce was harmless.
"It's nice to see you," she said in as calm a voice as she could muster given what a huge and not particularly welcome surprise he was. "But I'm afraid I don't understand why you felt you needed to come all the way out here."
"I still love you, Taylor." Her eyes widened. It wasn't like Bruce to be so direct--he'd always tended to meander around whatever it was he was trying to say. "I had no idea you were facing such health struggles. To think that you might d--" His words crumbled in a choked-up throat.
"Everything is going to be okay," she said, rolling out her trusty mantra as she put her hand on his shoulder to guide him back to the stool. She was still irritated with him, but she couldn't help feeling sorry for him too. "I'll fill your cup and get you something to eat. That will make you feel better."
"You've got to give me another chance, baby."
Gritting her teeth at the fact that he obviously didn't know when to quit, she said, "Stop calling me baby."
"Y
ou always loved it when I called you that." He scowled over his shoulder at the direction in which Justin had gone. "Before him."
No, she hadn't loved it. Bruce calling her baby had made her feel like they were stuck in a fifties-era relationship where he was supposed to bring home the bacon and she was supposed to fry it up in a pan. After making sure the kids were bathed and in bed, of course, by the time he got home from his stressful job in a world far beyond her little homestead. It almost made her laugh as she realized that he did, in fact, have quite a high-powered job in banking, having risen quickly through the ranks in Rochester, and she was frying up quite a bit of bacon these days for her guests.
In any case, as she'd said to Justin a few days earlier, Bruce wasn't a bad guy. He just wasn't for her.
There was no point in hurting him further, so she didn't correct his erroneous assumption. She simply topped up his coffee and started scrambling eggs. She'd skip the bacon today.
"Your B&B is nice, Taylor."
She could see that he meant it, but his compliment didn't mean nearly as much to her as Justin's had when she'd given him the tour on his first day. Perhaps she should be gracious and offer Bruce a tour as well, but she wasn't feeling particularly gracious at the moment.
"Thank you." And then, since he'd made the effort of flying all the way out here, she asked, "How is everything going for you in Rochester? How's your job? Your family?" She made sure to look pointedly at him as she added, "Your girlfriend?" Her mother had slipped up on the phone a few weeks back and mentioned that he was dating someone. Taylor had been nothing but happy for Bruce. After all, he hadn't only wasted her years--she'd also wasted his.
"She's nothing to me. Not like you are."
Taylor fought the urge to roll her eyes. "Seriously, Bruce, you don't need to say that."
"You're the love of my life." He reached for her hand so that the spatula dropped onto the counter and she nearly burned herself on the iron skillet. "You're the light in my eyes. You're the beating of my heart!"
The kitchen door was flung open. Justin was obviously on high alert, and the sound of the stainless-steel spatula clanking onto tile had been enough to make him rush back in. Before she realized it, he had Bruce's shirt in his fists and was dragging him out of the kitchen.
"Justin," she said, "please, wait--"
The words dried up in her throat as another familiar face and figure came swinging in through the front door. Bruce wasn't the only one who had decided to surprise her with a visit.
Her mother had too.
*
Justin couldn't believe it. First, he and Taylor had to deal with her ex, who obviously wanted Taylor back. And now her mother, who hated Justin and wanted her to get back together with Bruce, was here too?
But when he caught sight of Taylor's face and saw how pale she was, he dropped her ex's shirt to rush over to help her to the couch, where he sat beside her and stroked her back until he felt her breathing return to normal.
She'd wanted to deal with Bruce on her own, and he knew how strong she was. But they were a team now, which meant they stood by each other, no matter what. And this kind of stress was the very last thing she needed right now.
"Oh, honey!" Her mother looked horribly upset as she sank to her knees in front of her daughter. "You swore you were taking care of yourself, but I can see that you aren't."
"She's been doing great until now," Justin told Taylor's mother before she could reply for herself.
Caroline Cardenes looked at him with barely concealed dislike. Actually, there was nothing concealed about it. "I'm Taylor's mother. I can see when my daughter is in pain." Dismissing him completely, she turned her entire focus on Taylor. "Sweetie, do you need to lie down? Or have something to drink? Or call the doctor?"
"Mom." Taylor held up a hand. "I'm fine. Everything's going to be okay."
Over the past few days, he had heard her say that enough times to realize it was a mantra of sorts. One he had the feeling she said more to soothe the people around her than because she actually believed it.
Footsteps sounded on the stairs. Taylor's guests were on their way down for one of her delicious breakfasts. Hearing it too, she stood. "I need to get to work."
"I'm here to take care of you now," her mother declared, "so you don't have to worry about anything anymore."
"If you'd like to help me make breakfast, that's fine, but I am going to do my job." Taylor's voice was low-pitched but full of steel. "And then when my guests are gone for the day, you and Bruce and I can have a chat."
Her mother looked stunned by her daughter's determination. "Of course, honey. I'll just go tidy up from my flight, and then you can let me know what you need help with in the kitchen."
Once her mother was gone, Taylor turned to Bruce. "I would appreciate it if you stayed right here until breakfast is ready." Her ex looked as though he might argue, but then nodded instead.
Justin was next in line. "We need to talk." Taking his hand, she pulled him out to the front porch. No doubt she was going to lay into him for manhandling her ex--but he'd do it again in a heartbeat. Even the guy putting his hand over hers was enough to make Justin see red. Bruce had touched her for the last time, as far as he was concerned.
"I love you," she said the moment the door closed behind them, "but I don't need you to fight my battles for me. Not with my mother or Bruce."
"I love you," he said back, "so I can't help but want to fight your battles." He was pleased when the corners of her mouth quirked up a tiny bit at his response, even if it hadn't been what she wanted to hear.
She sighed, finally letting her defenses down as she said, "I can't believe they're here. I mean, it's always good to see my mom, but this drama with Bruce is just one more thing I don't want to deal with right now."
"However you need me, whatever you need me to do," he told her, "just say it, and I'll be there for you."
"Well, for starters, please try not to get into a fight with Bruce. I know the two of you aren't going to become friends." He couldn't hold back a snort at the thought of ever becoming friends with the guy. "But that doesn't mean you need to punch each other's lights out either." When his eyebrows went up, she said, "Okay, so I know the punching out would only go one way. But you know what I mean. And second, but even more important, you can't say anything to my mom about wanting to be a donor. She'll get her hopes up, and then if it doesn't work out, she'll be crushed."
"It's going to work out."
Taylor's eyes narrowed. "Just because you might be a compatible donor for me doesn't mean I'm going to let you do it."
Damn it, he knew better than to push her like this. But the shock of dealing with her surprise guests had made him forget he needed to go slowly, to make sure that any decisions were as much hers as his.
"You're right." He pulled her close and brushed a kiss on her forehead. "You don't need your mother breathing down your neck on top of everything else."
She rested her cheek against his chest for a moment, clearly relieved by his agreement. "I should go inside." She drew back with obvious reluctance. "Now remember, play nice with Bruce. Or, better yet," she said as she put her hand on the doorknob, "maybe you should go for a run and burn off some of that steam I can see coming out of your ears."
It was probably a good idea, but he didn't want to leave her alone with the guy. Who knew what Bruce would try to pull? Hell, Justin knew firsthand just how much it must hurt to have made the mistake of letting her go. There was nothing a guy wouldn't do to try to get her back, which was why Justin didn't trust Bruce as far as he could throw him.
Gritting his teeth, Justin had to deliberately relax his fists as he stepped inside. Bruce was standing by the window, acting like he was scrolling through messages on his phone, but Justin wouldn't be surprised if he'd had his face pressed up against the glass trying to read their lips while they'd been talking on the porch.
To be fair, her ex wasn't a bad-looking guy--tall and broad, with dark hair. Justi
n could see what Taylor must have found attractive about him all those years ago. But there was a weakness to his chin--and a smallness to his fingers--that tipped the scales in the wrong direction. To Taylor's mother, Bruce might seem like the safer choice, the choice she could not only predict but also dictate to, but he definitely wasn't the better choice. Not by a long shot.
"Your smile, and your huge heart, can charm absolutely anyone."
It was what Justin's mother used to say to him when he got bad-tempered over things not going his way. Everyone thought he was the more cerebral twin compared to Sean, but when push came to shove, Justin was actually the one more likely to push and shove. Probably because Sean had plenty of sports-based physical outlets for his frustration, whereas the lab wasn't exactly conducive to pitching a fit, unless Justin wanted to clean up shards of test tubes afterward.
Justin didn't care one whit about charming Bruce. Not bashing the guy's head in would be a win. But Caroline Cardenes was another matter entirely. Taylor loved her mother and respected her opinion. And one day soon, when Justin was more than just Taylor's boyfriend, he hoped to have Taylor's mother on both their sides.
The easiest way to get on her good side would be to tell her his plans to donate a kidney to her daughter. But he couldn't go back on his promise to keep that information between him and Taylor for now. So he'd have to do things the hard way--smiling when he felt like cursing and keeping his hands in his pockets when he felt like wringing Bruce's neck.
Justin had to prove to Taylor's mother that he was not only the better man for her daughter, but also someone she could count on to take care of Taylor the way she and her husband did. With pure, unconditional love.
Thankfully, he'd learned everything he needed to know about unconditional love from his parents. And as long as he kept his mother's voice in his head, he'd find a way to do what needed to be done.
Even when it meant walking up to Taylor's ex, holding out his hand, and saying, "Sorry about what happened earlier. I hope you'll agree to start over. I'm Justin Morrison, and it's nice to finally meet you after all these years."