Page 61 of Written with You (The Regret Duet 2)
I opened my mouth to argue, but that had been eerily accurate, and I both loved and hated that he recognized it.
Loved because I loved him and it meant a lot that he noticed and understood things about me long before I was willing to admit them.
Hated because it meant that it had been over eight months and I was failing at pretending, which meant accepting that Hadley was gone forever was just around the corner and I was seriously not ready to lose her yet.
Tears hit my eyes at the same time I face-planted into his chest and blurted, “It’s easier to see Willow on her headstone. I’m Willow. So it seems like a silly mistake. But then I remember that she’s in there. And then I want her to be happy. She always wanted to be me. So I keep thinking that maybe I can live the easy life for her. There can be a world where Hadley loves her daughter and teaches her to paint and they do all the things she used to love. They can laugh about animals and she can sleep in the arms of a man who truly loves her and she won’t hurt anymore. I can’t fix the past for her. But I can fix the future.”
His strong arms folded around me, pinning me to his chest as the sobs devoured me.
“You read her journals, Caven. They were all so dark and depressing. I want her to finally have something good to write about.”
“But I want to write that future with you, Willow,” he breathed into the top of my hair, holding me so tight it was as if he thought he could keep me from falling apart. And let’s be honest. It was Caven. He probably could. But if he couldn’t, I knew he would stand there for however long I needed him to, fighting a losing battle and trying anyway. “We don’t have to talk about this now. We actually don’t have to talk about it ever again. But just know you will always be Willow to me.”
My heart simultaneously ached and soared. I wanted to write that future with him too. I didn’t know how long we stayed there. Standing in the middle of his room, his bed only a few feet away. He didn’t ask any questions, nor did he try to give me any sage advice.
There was nothing left to say.
The fact was Hadley was dead. My using her identity wasn’t going to change that.
There would be no painting with her daughter.
No laughing over animals.
No journal entries decorated with hearts and smiley faces.
That wasn’t Hadley’s life.
But it could be mine.
With Caven.
I had a successful career as an artist. An incredible man who would hold me until his arms fell off. A beautiful little girl who looked like my mother, laughed like my father, and had every bit of my sister’s attitude.
And, in one way or another, Hadley had given them all to me.
Maybe the answer wasn’t rewriting her life.
Maybe he was right and it was all about embracing my own.
Or maybe it was just about putting off the inevitable and forgetting if only for a few more hours.
“Caven,” I whispered, raking my nails down his back.
He turned to stone as I slipped my hand down the back of his sweats. “Fuck,” he rumbled.
Pressing up onto my toes, I kissed the base of his neck and murmured, “Go see if she’s asleep.”
He took my mouth in a needy kiss, but as I was getting lost in a taste that would forever be engrained in my memory as Caven Hunt, he was removing my hands.
Palming either side of my face, he stepped away. “Stop.”
“No, don’t stop. Stopping is bad.” I tried to capture his mouth again, but he held me out of reach.
“Jesus, Willow. Your cheeks aren’t even dry yet.”
I tugged at his waistband. “So dry them while you get me naked.”
Releasing my face, he took a giant stride back. It was only a few feet, but for as deflated as I felt, it might as well have been a mile.
“We’re not doing this. Not after that.”
Without a care in the world and a desperation to forget, I peeled my shirt over my head, leaving me in a simple, but sexy, white bra.
His gaze jumped to my breasts, but it was the way it flicked to my scar that sent the chill down my spine.
“Willow,” he breathed. After one last perusal, he bit his bottom lip and looked toward the door. “Don’t do this to me. Don’t make me tell you no. I don’t have it in me.”
I prowled closer and peppered kisses across his defined chest. “If you tell me no, I’m going to have to start deleting stars on your date review.”
He let out a growl when I grazed the tips of my fingers across the fabric covering his hard length. And no sooner than I slipped a hand into the front of his pants was I up off my feet, being carried to the bed.
