“I wouldn’t expect anything less.” She switched to signing. HE’S YOUR SON.
Realized I had nothing to lose. The only thing I could do was cut myself wide open. “I’m scared I won’t be enough. That the courts will take one look at me and see the risk. A fucking deaf dude with a broken heart who’s already surpassed his life expectancy.”
Fully sitting up, she reached over my son to hold my face in her hands. “I think what they’ll see is an amazing man with an amazing heart. They’ll see a man who will live every single day for the ones that he loves. They’ll see a man who’s still livin’ because this is where he needs to be. Because he belongs with us.”
I grasped one of her hands and pressed it tighter to my face. “That’s who I want to be, Frankie. That’s the man I want to show up. The one who is here loving you. The one who is loving him.”
“And that is who is sittin’ here, right now. This is the boy who grew into a man—one who was taught to never give up on hope. We hold it. Fight for it until it’s ours.”
“You were always my hope, Frankie Leigh.”
My faith.
My dream.
The end game.
Her lips trembled. I traced my fingertips across the lush curves.
Flashes of energy. Rising and thrashing.
Swore I could feel the room begin to spin.
The two of us caught up in a second flat.
I pinned Frankie with my eyes as I edged back and picked up my son. He stretched and his mouth moved, but his eyes never opened as I carried him to his crib and settled him onto the mattress. He heaved a sigh and his little body settled down into the comfort of his bed, his thumb back in his mouth and the frog tucked under one arm.
Everything fisted.
Love and adoration.
Felt the shift of the potency behind me. Greed and desire. A river rushing with need.
I slowly turned around.
Frankie had stood from the bed. She was back to wringing her fingers, those eyes wild and unsure, the girl wearing this tank and shorts that made my mouth water, all that skin aglow in the murky light that hovered around her.
My hands twitched and everything hardened.
She gestured toward the window. “I really should go.”
I took a step her direction. “Yeah? Why’s that?” I took another step forward.
Energy streaked.
A thunderbolt.
She chuckled a little, the girl antsy and needy as she shifted on her feet. “I think you know the answer to that, Evan.”
DO YOU NEED TO GO OR DO YOU WANT TO GO? My head angled to the side as I asked it, edging forward, drawn to this girl.
She lifted her chin. Surrender and defiance. “I don’t know how to be in your space and not want you, Evan. I don’t remember how not to be yours.”
That was all it took for every reservation holding us back to topple. For every wall to crumble to the ground. Nothing but rubble and debris strewn in the middle of us.
I scaled right over it.
I had Frankie in my arms in a second flat, one hand twisted up in her mess of hair and the other bound tight around her waist.
Her face was a couple inches higher than mine, and I gazed up at her in the same second I was pulling her down to my mouth.
Devouring her in a mind-altering kiss.
Greedy as I stroked my tongue between her lips, groaning deep as hers twisted with mine in a reckless rhythm that I wanted to dance to forever.
Fuck. This girl always tasted the same.
So goddamn sweet.
“That’s because you’re mine, Frankie,” I rumbled at her mouth. “You’ve always been. Nothing is gonna change that.”
“I missed you. So much. Oh God, Evan, I missed you. You are makin’ me crazy.”
I drank down every word, read them against my lips, savored each one like it had been carved into the pages of our story.
“Just let me touch you, Frankie. Let me make you remember what we were like. The way we were supposed to be.”
Her mouth was on mine, the whisper of her words hitting me like a storm as I deciphered her meaning. “Please, Evan. I don’t want to hurt anymore. I don’t want to hurt anymore. Make it stop.”
Fuck.
I hated that I was the one who was responsible for it. That I’d been the one to divvy out this pain. Knew I had to be careful with her. That I had to prove it.
“Shh . . .” I murmured. “I’ve got you. I’ve got you.”
Her fingers were in my hair, yanking and tugging in her play to get closer.
Our spirits surged into the air.
“Please . . . touch me . . . just let me feel.”
Frankie suddenly jerked free of the kiss, and her attention darted to the crib. I followed her line of sight to find Everett stirring a bit. I didn’t hesitate, I just carried her across the room and through the door of the attached bathroom.