Loves Me, Loves Me Knot (31 page)

At the last minute, though, he stopped himself, curling his fingers into his palm. “No. Thanks,” he told her slowly.

Lifting his eyes to meet hers, he saw a sparkle of amusement there and one corner of his mouth curved in response. “I learned my lesson last time. I’ll get my own beverages from now on.”

“Smart man.” She returned his amused half-smile with one of her own, then raised the glass in mock salute. “You might want to pass that tip along to Zack, by the way, because if I ever get the opportunity to slip anything into his drink, it
won’t
be a few harmless sleeping pills.”

That came a little too close to a threat on someone’s life for Gage’s cop sensibilities, but he wasn’t here to referee a lovers’ dispute; he had enough problems of his own along those lines.

Turning back to the matter at hand, he fixed his gaze once again on Jenna. He didn’t care if he sounded weak or ridiculous, he needed her to talk to him, to
listen
to him.

“Please,” he implored, tucking his thumbs self-consciously into two front belt loops. “Just for a minute.”

She exchanged glances with her two friends, but gave a stiff nod and started toward the doorway. Stepping into the hall, he shut the door on Grace and Ronnie to afford them a bit of privacy.

His breath hitched and the heart inside his chest literally ached, it was beating so fast and so hard against his ribcage.

Jenna, who had moved closer to the opposite wall to put some distance between them, didn’t seem to be having such problems. She was practically glaring at him, arms still crossed staunchly beneath her breasts and her lips pressed into a flat, humorless line.

“What do you want, Gage?” she asked in a tired voice.

He’d done that to her. Put the sorrow in her eyes and the slope of defeat to her shoulders.

Swallowing past the lump in his throat, he said, “I’m just going to jump in here, because I’ve wasted enough time already.”

Deep breath. A lick to dry lips while he tried to get his thoughts in order.

“I messed up, Jenna. You were right about everything, and I was too damn thick-headed to see it.”

She didn’t respond, simply stood there watching him, waiting for him to finish—or get to the point, whichever came first. To keep from grabbing her and pulling her in for a long kiss that might help to absolve him of his sins, he shoved his fingers into his pockets.

“I was a fool, Jenna. I was afraid of losing you to some of the things I’ve seen out on the street. So afraid that instead of holding you close and appreciating every
minute we had together, I let it scare me into letting you go and letting our marriage collapse because of it.”

He thought he saw a flash of interest in her eyes and prayed he was on the right track, prayed he could convince her to take him back.

“I was wrong. Wrong and stupid and foolish, and every other word you can think of that spells I-D-I-O-T,” he admitted with a sorry shake of his head. “It took me a while—too damn long, I know—to realize that I can’t control what
might
happen. In the words of a man smarter than I apparently am, any one of us could walk outside and get hit by a bus tomorrow. It wouldn’t have a damn thing to do with our jobs or lifestyles or what kind of people we are.”

Dropping his head, he studied the black of his boots against the nondescript beige of the industrial hallway carpeting for a second, then took a deep breath, met her gaze again, and barreled on.

“I hate the thought of going through the rest of my life without you. Without ever knowing a minute of happiness because you aren’t there. I don’t want to live without you or without the children we’ll have together. I can’t tell you I won’t still worry—or have moments of sheer panic, frankly,” he added with a crooked, self-deprecating smile, “but I don’t want what I’ve seen as a cop to steal our future. Not for one more minute.”

Holding himself rigid, he waited for her reaction, waited to find out if his revelation had come too late to win her back.

And, dammit, he couldn’t tell. Her face remained impassive, her eyes narrowed with skepticism, but not giving anything away.

This was not going as well as he’d hoped, he thought
with a mental cringe. On the way over, he’d envisioned the reaction his speech would receive. He’d tell Jenna he loved her and wanted her back, wanted a happy marriage and children with her, after all. And she would be so delighted and overwhelmed that she would give a little shriek of joy, throw her arms around his neck, and kiss him silly.

Clearly he’d made an error in his calculations.

The seconds ticked by in his head like the echo of a gong, and then it hit him:
He hadn’t told her he loved her!

Shit
. Mental head slap.

He’d been so focused on letting her know he’d come to his senses and wasn’t going to let fears about the future keep them apart any longer that he’d forgotten the most important part.

“I love you,” he blurted out.

Her eyes widened slightly at that, but if it was due to the declaration itself or the force with which he made it, he couldn’t be sure.

“I love you,” he repeated at a slightly lower decibel level. “I’ve always loved you, Jenna. Never stopped, not even when I signed the divorce papers and walked away. The last year and a half without you has been . . .” He thought about it, then blew out a frustrated breath. “I’d say ‘hell,’ but Hell is Disney World compared to how miserable I’ve been.”

Risking the pain of rejection that he knew could still come, he took a step forward and grasped her elbows. Her arms slid away from her midsection and fell to her sides, and he tugged her closer until they touched chest to chest.

Staring down at her, he whispered, “I’m sorry. I’ve
put you through so much and wasted so much time. But I want to make it up to you. I want to spend the rest of my life making it up to you, if you’ll just give me the chance.”

His diaphragm constricted as he ran out of air. That was it; that was all he had in him. If she was going to forgive him and take him back, then she’d have to do it now because he didn’t know what else to do or say that might win her over. The ball was in her court, and all he could do was wait.

Unfortunately, the silence was killing him, scraping along his sensitized nerve endings like nails on a chalkboard.

And her expression gave away nothing. Her eyes were still dark and unreadable. Her lips were still drawn into a thin, tight line.

Fearing it was over and that his heartfelt speech had come too late to break through the thick wall of protection
he’d
put there to begin with, he released his hold on her arms and took a step back.

There was no pain, not yet. It was like that sometimes with trauma. Shock set in first, numbing the body and momentarily blocking the pain receptors in the brain. But soon enough, reality would kick in, and the knowledge that he’d lost Jenna again—just when he’d finally gotten his head on straight—would be agonizing.

He took a step, half-turning to begin the long, endless walk down the hall and away from her. He prayed she’d go back inside Grace’s apartment before his knees went weak and he did something less than manly like collapse or break down in pathetic sobs.

“You want babies?”

Her words came to him like an echo from inside a dark tunnel. At first he thought he’d imagined it, then he wasn’t quite sure he’d heard correctly.

Turning back around, he found her standing right where he’d left her, looking at him expectantly. She hadn’t slipped back into Grace’s apartment, and she apparently
had
asked him a question.

The most important question.

“Yeah,” he said, feeling a hitch in his chest that threatened to work its way up his throat. “I want babies. But not just any babies. I only want babies with you.”

Finally, he knew he’d said the right thing. Jenna’s eyes filled with tears, her lips quivered, and she launched herself against him before he could brace himself for the impact. He stumbled back a step, but caught her and anchored them both as his arms came up to wrap around her waist.

A ball of warmth burst low in his belly and spread out into every cell of his being. He hadn’t fucked up, after all; at least not permanently.

She’d listened to him, believed him, and—thank You, Jesus—forgiven him. The only time he could remember feeling this good or being this happy was on his wedding day.

He didn’t think he should mention it yet, but he intended to get her down the aisle again as soon as possible. And if she wanted to get started immediately on the baby-making part, he was ready, willing, and more than able.

After a few minutes of simply standing there, holding each other close, Jenna lifted her face from his neck and fixed him with narrow, serious eyes. “Never,
ever do that again!” she told him in a watery voice, then gave his side a pinch for good measure.

“Ow.” He squirmed away from her lethal claws, then asked, “Never do what again?”

“Put me through something like that,” she nearly shrieked. “The silent treatment, the divorce, the not knowing what the heck you want and putting me through the wringer. Never, ever, ever—”

She came at him again with those two dangerous fingertips, and he jumped quickly to one side before she could make contact.

“I won’t,” he assured her. “I promise.”

With a slightly less homicidal demeanor, she snuggled up to him again, and he was more than happy to snuggle back.

“You were so sure when you left, so certain you were making the right decision. What changed your mind?” she asked, leaning into the circle of his arms at her back.

He thought about it for a moment, then replied slowly, “I think I finally . . . opened my eyes. After being with you again, then leaving you again . . . God, that is something I
never
want to repeat, let me tell you. I don’t think my heart could take it.” He shook his head, then made himself get back on track. “Anyway, I started to notice that a lot of the guys on the force have wives and families. They don’t shut themselves away from their loved ones or walk around petrified something will happen to them.”

She lifted a brow and annoyance started to seep back into her gaze. “Isn’t that what I’ve been trying to tell you all along?”

He made a face. “That would be the part where I admit to being a little dense.”

Her expression darkened even more. “A little?”

And then she pinched him. Again.

“
Ow
.” He rubbed at the poor, abused spot on his side, then said, “You’d better take it easy. If you keep battering me like that, I might not be in any shape to knock you up tonight.”

Her lips twitched with the urge to grin, but she held back, intent on holding his feet to the fire a while longer.

“Who says I want you to knock me up tonight?” she replied smartly, tipping her head in that come-hither way she had that used to drive him crazy—in all the very best ways.

“You’ve only been angling for kids for two or three years now,” he reminded her. “I figured you’d want to get started. And I, for one, am looking forward to some pretty amazing makeup sex.” He waggled his brows for emphasis.

She chuckled. “I’m okay with the makeup sex, but I think we should go a little more slowly with the rest. I want to be sure this is going to work out and that you’re not going to
change your mind again
.” She growled the last and aimed her curled fingers at his ribcage.

He sucked in his gut to avoid more potential bruising. “I won’t, I swear.”

Seeming to accept his word, she said, “And then I’d like to get remarried before we start having kids.”

“This from the woman who drugged me and tied me to the bed in an attempt to get pregnant?” he asked, brows lifted in doubt.

Her mouth twitched guiltily. “That’s when I thought I was going to be alone for the rest of my life and didn’t
want to spend it childless. Now that I know you’re going to be there . . .”

She made the pinchy motion again and he rolled his eyes, grabbing her wrist and laying her palm flat on his chest so she couldn’t use it against him.

“I’m not in as much of a hurry. We have time.”

It wasn’t what he’d expected—part of him had expected her to jump his bones right there in the apartment complex hallway—but it sounded good to him.

With a grin, he leaned in to kiss her. Slowly at first, then deeper, until she was pressed to him like cellophane and his arms were bound around her so tightly, he was afraid he might break something.

When they pulled apart a long, long while later, he touched his forehead to hers and whispered, “So what do you say we go home—your place or mine, I don’t care—and at least get started on that makeup sex?”

She stepped into him again, arms around his neck, and gave a little hop, wrapping her legs around his waist. She trusted him to catch her, like so many times in the past. Which he did, by curving his hands under her butt.

“I say yes. I may even let you tie me to the headboard this time,” she teased just above his ear before giving it a tiny love-nip and then moving downward.

Her naughtily whispered words and her mouth on the side of his throat sent his cock jutting upwards, straining against the fly of his jeans. He was trying to hold on to his control here, but she’d be lucky if he didn’t toss her down right there in the hallway and strip her bare.

Between voracious, soul-stealing kisses, he managed to grate out, “Shouldn’t you tell your friends we’re leaving?”

She gave a half-hearted nod and he steered her none-too-steadily over to Grace’s door.

Jenna tapped, then yelled out, “Everything’s fine.”

Kiss
.

“We’re leaving.”

Lick
.

“I’ll call you later.”

Suuuck
.

While his legs could still carry him, he headed for the elevator at the end of the hall. From her heightened position in his arms, she reached down to punch the button with her thumb, then turned back to him. Their gazes met and he saw his love for her reflected in those mossy-green depths.

“I love you,” he murmured, wanting to say it again and again so she knew the words were true.