Never Giving Up (Never #3) Read online

  “Good book?” I asked him innocently.

  “Huh?” He asked, confused.

  “The book you just put down, is it a good book?”

  He looked over at the nightstand and then back to me. “I don’t want to talk about books right now,” he said, his voice becoming low and sexy. He crawled forward on the bed towards me, making me giggle. When he reached the edge of the bed, he sat up on his knees and I reached forward, pulling his tee shirt up. He had to help me by pulling it over his head, but that gave me the opportunity to place my hands on his fantastic body.

  “I should have held out for a sexier husband,” I said, trying to keep a straight face as I splayed my hands over his pectoral muscles, sliding them up and over his glorious shoulders and biceps.

  “Oh, you’ve got jokes, Mrs. Masters?” Hearing him use my married name did more for me sexually than I thought he could ever comprehend. I loved that our name bound us together, that he gave me something so sacred to him—the name his father gave him. I took his name willingly and thankfully. I loved being Mrs. Masters. “Jokes on you, I think. I got the better end of this deal,” he said as he grabbed my ass. He pulled my body into his as he peered into my eyes, our foreheads gently meeting. I felt his erection pressing into my belly, his obvious need for me making my own insides burn intensely.

  “Do you ever think we’ll tire of each other? I can’t imagine keeping up with this level of sexual appetite forever,” I said as his mouth came down to nibble on my collar bone. I felt his tongue flash over my skin and the goose bumps raised all over my body.

  “I’ll never get tired of being with you, Ella. But eventually, at some point,” he said placing more kisses up my neck, “there will come a time when we’ll have to remember our passion, and bring it back to life.” I knew he was right. All marriages went through troubles and dry spells. I wasn’t living in a fantasy and I was well aware that marriages took work.

  “Promise you’ll remind me?” I whispered. His face appeared in front of mine and his eyes looked lovingly at me.

  “I’ve done a pretty good job so far, haven’t I?” He said with a grin.

  “Yes, my love, you have.”

  I saw Kalli’s expression in the mirror reflecting back at me and I tried hard to stifle a giggle. Megan couldn’t see her face because she was focused on the embellishments along the hem of the dress Kalli was currently wearing, but I could see and it was hard not to laugh.

  “What do we think, girls?” The very eager, yet nice, saleswoman gave me an expectant look.

  “Uh, it’s . . .” I stammered.

  “It’s not bad,” Megan offered.

  “What about all this stuff?” Kalli motioned to the bottom of the dress.

  “The rhinestone detailing?” The saleswoman clarified.

  “Yeah. Does it, maybe, look a little cheap?” Kalli wrinkled her nose, but said the words softly as if not to offend anyone.

  “You think it looks cheap?” Megan whispered. If there was anyone in the room to trust about this, it was Kalli. She was a big-time Hollywood costume designer. Kalli opened her eyes wider at Megan pleading silently not to make her utter the words. Megan’s head whipped around to me. “What do you think, Ella?”

  “I think we can find something more perfect.” That was my attempt to soften the blow. We didn’t need rhinestones or sequin distractions on our dresses. We needed a good fabric, a pretty color, a nice design, and then we needed to fade into the background. Megan was the focus of the wedding, after all. “Do you have any catalogues we could look at?” I asked the saleswoman. She huffed a little at my request but promptly walked away saying she’d bring us some magazines. “Kalli, please take that dress off,” I laughed.

  Megan sat down in the chair next to me and exhaled loudly. “It shouldn’t be this difficult.” She sounded defeated and we’d only just started.

  “Megs, everything will be just fine. We’ll look through the catalogues and get some ideas. Do you think you want Kalli and me to wear the same dress or different ones?”

  “I don’t care. I just want them the same color. You guys can pick different ones. I want everything to look cohesive.”

  I placed a hand on her shoulder and squeezed gently. “Everything is going to turn out fine. We’ve got plenty of time.” She turned and smiled at me.

  “Thanks, Fella.” Just then, the saleswoman brought us some catalogues and we spent a few minutes flipping through them. Kalli seemed to gravitate towards the dresses that were corseted and fitted through the torso and I hoped for something a little looser, an empire waist perhaps.

  The saleswoman brought us some dresses similar to what we were drawn to. I slipped on a strapless, empire waist gown that flowed down around my ankles. The fabric was light and airy. I loved it. I walked out of the dressing room and waited for Megan’s scrutiny.

  “Ella, it’s a pretty dress, but it doesn’t do anything for your figure. You look like a fancy peasant.”

  “Ok, well, first, that’s an oxymoron. Second, I don’t need anything done for my figure so I’m not worried about that.”

  “It’s true, Megan. Ella is already married to the most handsome man we’ve ever met. She’s officially the Matron of Honor. She’s not looking for any single men to hook up with at your wedding.”

  “Patrick is the most handsome man I’ve ever seen,” Megan stated, confident in her fiancé’s good looks. “But come on, Ella. You don’t want to wear a loose fitting drape to my wedding, do you?”

  I sighed loudly and decided that it was impossible to keep our situation a secret any longer. “Listen, Megs. The truth is, I’m going to need to order a dress like this in case my body is different in four months.” I tried to imply meaning without blatantly stating that Porter and I were trying to have a baby. Kalli’s head poked out around from the doorway of her dressing room, eyes wide, mouth open into a big “O.” Megan was looking at me like I’d asked her a calculous question.

  “Shut. Up.” Kalli whisper-yelled.

  “Shhh! It’s not really a secret but we haven’t told anyone yet. I don’t want to jinx it. Let’s just order me a frumpy dress and be done with it.”

  “Are you already . . .” Kalli’s eyebrows rose up and she eyed my midsection.

  “No, I’m not pregnant yet, but we’re trying.”

  “What?!” Megan yelled, finally catching on. “You’re having a baby?”

  “We’re trying to have a baby. Nothing is growing yet,” I said as I waved a hand around in front of my belly.

  “So you’re saying you didn’t have a shotgun elopement because you’re pregnant?” Megan said, shooting me an expectant glare.

  “No, we did not elope because I was pregnant. I am not pregnant. Like I said, we’re trying. We’ve been trying.”

  “I’m sure you have,” Kalli said with a snicker as she went back into her dressing room. I grinned too, realizing that once you announced that you were trying to have a baby, everyone automatically knew you’re having a lot of sex. I blushed and turned away from my sister.

  “In light of recent information, I approve of the baggy peasant dress. Just make sure you put a baby in your belly to make it worth it.”

  “I’ll, uh, do my best.”

  Kalli and I successfully picked out dresses in a very pretty, soft lilac color. Kalli’s dress would be sure to snag her any single guy at the wedding if she wanted one. Neither of us, though, would hold a candle to my sister. I couldn’t wait to see Patrick’s face as she walked down the aisle.

  It was seven o’clock before we were done and after I said goodbye to Kalli and Megan, I sat in my car and called Porter.

  “Hey, Babe,” he said as he answered.

  “Hey, yourself. I’m done dress shopping. Just calling to see what you’re up to.”

  “I’m sitting here at the restaurant with my mom, just chatting.”

  “Oh, great. How is she?”

  “She’s good. She misses you. Speaking of which, I am going to have to com
e back to Lincoln City tomorrow to work on some issues happening at the job site here, so I was wondering if you wanted to drive out for the night. I can come back to Salem, no problem, but I thought a night at the beach house could be good, too.”

  My heart fluttered at the thought of the beach house. Porter’s house. The house where we fell in love.

  “I don’t mind driving out. It’s only seven. I can be there by nine.”

  “Perfect,” he said softly, as if he were imagining us at the beach house just like I was.

  “Yes. And then tomorrow I can have breakfast with your mom,” I added, excited about the idea. We said our goodbyes as Porter always insisted that I not talk on the phone and drive at the same time.

  Being used to the drive from so many trips back and forth over the months, I found my mind wandering as I made my way through the dusk. The trees whisked by helping my mind relax and thoughts seeped in, welcomed or not. I thought about the wedding, that wonderful week we spent on white sands and in blue waters so crystal clear you could see straight down to the ocean floor.

  I remembered laying in a hammock with Porter, gently swinging in the shade, napping, and reading. I remembered dancing slowly with him to tropical music, feeling his hands wandering across the skin bared by my sundress. I smiled widely when my mind recalled the nights spent together, loving each other, worshipping each other, celebrating the obstacles we overcame to get to that moment.

  I drove into Lincoln City proper and, as always, tried to ignore the tightening in my chest and the way my heart sped up as my car neared the street which held the house I rented so many months ago. It was in that house where I forged this soul-altering relationship with my husband, but it was also the house where I had done the unthinkable. I always told myself that I wasn’t going to look down the street. I wasn’t going to turn my head and try to see the house. I knew I couldn’t see it from the street. I knew it was dark and nothing could be seen anyhow. But every time—my head turned, my breath caught, and my heart pounded.

  I don’t know if I expected to see Kyle standing there, or if I expected the feelings of guilt and regret to go away, but every time I passed that street my panic returned. Porter and I had discussed whether Lincoln City was a good place for me to be after all that had happened. My therapist had convinced him, with my help, that as long as I was using my tools to deal with the panic, and wasn’t holding it all in, I could be fine here. I wanted to be fine here. This was where everything started, and beyond all the bad that happened, our everything was beautiful.

  I made it to Porter’s house and again was hit with the absolute beauty of what he created. He would never call himself creative or an artist, but that’s exactly what he was. Anyone who saw the houses he built would agree; the man was gifted. The beauty of the house was instantly magnified when I saw his gorgeous frame step out onto the wrap-around porch. He waited for me and I appreciated that so much. I knew, deep in my core, that he felt my absence. I knew it to be true because I felt it as well. Months ago we’d made an agreement to never spend a night apart and we hadn’t since. It was important to our relationship that we fed our need to be near one another. It meant a lot of driving sometimes, and getting up earlier than I would have liked on some days to make a longer commute to work, but the benefits to us were hardly comparable to the costs.

  To feel him next to me every night, to know that I would wake every morning with his arms wrapped around me, was a kind of serenity I’d never experienced before and I was glad to make the sacrifices needed to give him the same feeling of security it gave me.

  “Hey, Babe,” he said with a smile as I got out of my car. “Good drive?” He asked because he knew how hard it was for me to drive past that street.

  “It was the same. It wasn’t harder, so that’s good, but still difficult.” I made my way up the steps and walked right into his waiting arms. I rested my cheek against his chest and felt his hands spread over my back, one coming to rest at the base of my neck, the other landing possessively on the curve of my rear.

  “I have some dinner for you if you’re hungry,” he mumbled against my hair.

  “You cooked?” I asked, surprised, cocking an eyebrow at him.

  “My mom sent me home with something for you,” he admitted.

  “Ah,” I said, laughing. “That makes more sense.” He kissed my temple then took my hand and led me into the house. We never bothered to pack when we left one city for another, we kept everything we needed at both houses to avoid it. And when we weren’t in town, either his mother or his friends, Matt and Brook, kept an eye on the house for us.

  “Why don’t you eat and I will go draw us a bath?”

  “That sounds perfect. A bath sounds wonderful.” He led me into the kitchen and I sat at the barstool at the island. I smiled watching him bring a plate out of the microwave. He couldn’t cook anything and his mother knew this. I loved that she thought of me and knew us well enough to know what we needed. I was blessed with the best mother-in-law.

  He set the plate down in front of me and I smiled at the lasagna knowing his mother had made it herself.

  “I love your mom’s lasagna,” I moaned, the scent of it wafting towards me.

  “And she loves you,” he said as he kissed the top of my head. “Eat, then come upstairs.”

  I watched him disappear up the stairs, not at all bothered by the sight of his backside as he climbed each one.

  I knew when she arrived she’d be upset. I also knew she’d be more upset than she would let on. It was one of the traits of hers I loved—her strength and her need to handle things on her own. I also knew that she would let me help her, as long as I was subtle about it. Dinner was easy; it wasn’t even my idea. I had my mother to thank for that. Ella and I both knew I couldn’t cook, but I could offer her a little peace and comfort with a bath.

  All those years ago when I’d built this house, designed it from the ground up, I never knew I’d been building it for her. What did I need a giant jetted tub for? Nothing. I hadn’t even necessarily wanted one, but somewhere inside me I guess I knew that someday she’d like to have one. It was moments like this I was glad I’d listened to that little voice in my heart that whispered someday, even when my mind said never.

  I placed candles around the ledge of the window that was dark now, but usually had a breathtaking view of the Pacific Ocean. I placed candles on the counter and a few in the bedroom as well, then I lit them all and began to fill the tub. I found her favorite bubble bath that smelled of vanilla and poured it in, watching the froth of the soap build, smelling the scent that always brought me back to her. When the tub was filled with hot water and bubbles, I turned the faucet off.

  In the bedroom I turned on some low music, just wanting to fill the silence. I knew it was in the silence where her mind took her away to the places that troubled her. I didn’t want to overwhelm her, but the distraction of the soft piano music would hopefully be enough to keep her away from the darkness.

  After a few minutes, I heard her coming up the stairs and watched as she walked into the bedroom, a smile gracing her face. Her resiliency took my breath away. There were so many times I wanted to wrap her in my arms and make all her fears disappear, but I knew that wasn’t what she needed. She needed me to support her, to love her, and to be present—to listen when she wanted to talk and to hold her when she needed comfort. But she didn’t need saving, even if I longed to do just that. Together we’d been through enough, but on her own she’d battled the worst demons and won every fight. I was so proud that she was mine and that she fought so hard to come back to me.

  “Feeling better?”

  “Your mother’s cooking always makes me feel better,” she said with a sleepy grin.

  “Come here,” I motioned for her to stand in front of me as I sat on the bed. When she made it to me, I reached out and started unbuttoning her jeans. She toed off her shoes and kicked them to the side, her eyes never leaving mine. I slid her pants down her legs, my hands gr
azing over the smooth skin of her thighs. She stepped out of them while placing her hands on my shoulders for balance. I grabbed the bottom of her sweater and pulled it over her head, her blonde hair falling softly back to her shoulders, mussed in the sexiest of ways. She stood before me in just her bra and panties, looking so much like an angel, her blue eyes sparkling at me. I leaned forward and placed a small kiss on her stomach.

  “You really think there’s a baby in there?” She whispered, sounding hopeful.

  “I think there’s a good chance.”

  She smiled at me, her eyes even brighter.

  “Let’s get in the bath,” I said, standing and reaching behind her to unclasp her bra.

  “You’re coming with me?” She asked as she piled her hair on top of her head and secured it with a hair tie.

  “If that’s ok.” I pulled the straps off her shoulders, the bra falling away to the floor leaving her bare to me. She placed her hands on my chest and pressed a kiss to my chin.

  “Of course it’s ok.” Her hands found her panties and she slipped them over her bottom and walked towards the bathroom, leaving me to watch her beautiful, naked silhouette. I quickly shed my clothes and followed her. She sat in the middle of the tub, her knees drawn up to her chest, her hair piled on top of her head in a messy knot, waiting for me. I climbed in behind her and stretched my legs on either side of her, sighing as she leaned back into me.

  The water sloshed around us until we settled, her head resting back against my shoulder, the steaming water coming up just far enough to cover her pretty, pink nipples. I saw flashes of them peeking through the bubbles and had to remind myself why we were here; to help her, not to seduce her—yet.

  “How was the drive?” I asked her again, looking for a different answer this time and she knew it.

  “Same as before. I panicked as I got closer to the street. I kept telling myself I wasn’t going to look, but then, of course, I did.”

  “Did you have to pull over?” She had to in the past. She panicked so much that she wasn’t able to drive, nearly fainting. Thankfully, she never wrecked.