Page 76 of Attached At Heart
My life had altered this morning.
Because I would never, ever know a longing like I experienced when I woke up this morning to find not only Delaney in my arms butnakedin my arms.Naked.
And somehow, I’d found the strength to keep my hand on her back. Fuck, to feel her but not be able to touch her was a new kind of torture altogether. My mind had gone blank, hazing over with lust and desire, when I realized her bare breasts were pressed against my chest. Her body was so soft, her weight soluxurious. I was left wanting her more than I ever had, and I hadn’t been aware that was even possible.
I also wasn’t sure how much longer I’d be able to handle it.
Because while I’d kept my hands to myself, my cock had acted with a mind of its own.
I should probably give more of a fuck about that, but I couldn’t. Mostly because Delaney had been chasing the feel of me. Hard, between her fucking legs, wanting her like the world would end if I didn’t have her. And maybe she wasn’t equally affected by our predicament—there was not a chance in the world that she’d experienced the reaction that I had—but there had beensomethingthere. Something that made me wonder if she’d walked away from me wet and wanting.
That line of thinking was so fucking distracting.
So distracting that I’d almost been able to pretend that last night—before I’d woken up to find Delaney in my arms—hadn’t happened. That the flashes of Delaney drowning weren’t real.
Because theyweren’t.
Theycouldn’tbe.
I’d dreamed of that day before, of the drowning that had fucked me up from the inside out. But in my dreams, the person I pulled out of the water had always been faceless. Even though I knew what she looked like, the poor woman I’d failed that day. I wouldn’t be able to forget her face if I tried. I never had tried, though, despite desperately wanting to. I wanted to forget everything about that day.
But that seemed selfish.
So I remembered all of it.
In my dreams, though, the details never fully translated to my brain. There was never a face, which made it worse. It felt like my mind’s way of convincing me that there were more, that the number of people I could let slip through my fingers during my career was endless. That the dreams were just arepresentation of my failure as a person, as a doctor, as a brother, as a best friend, and not the reminder of a singular event. That taking risks might not pay off. That there was always more than one outcome, and I should never forget that.
But last night was worse than anything I could ever imagine. I never wanted to see a face in my dreams again. Because now, the images burned into the walls of my brain were all Delaney. Her blonde hair plastered to my chest as I pulled her out of the water. Turning her lifeless form over to find her pretty face looking detached. The void in her eyes. But then her voice cut through to me, pulling me away. I hadn’t wanted to go, hadn’t wanted to leave her.
When I woke to find her there, I’d lost it. Right there, arms around me, body pressed close. She was okay, safe, saved. The relief was unexplainable. Unparalleled. So heavy it carried me off to sleep again.
Suffice it to say, the last twelve hours of my existence had crashed in tidal waves of emotions, all surrounding this woman who was mywife, and I wasn’t sure if I was surfing them very well. It felt more like I was being pommeled.
To make it worse, a new swell of feelings smacked me right in the face as Delaney squealed with delight as we approached an endless sea of bright flowers.
“It looks just like the puzzle!” she gushed, looking back at me over her shoulder with a radiance that blew me the fuck away. I gave her an encouraging smile, and then she kept walking, giving a little spin of happiness as she followed a path between two colorful rows of tulips. On one side, they blazed orange, and on the other, they were deep pink, like the lining of my heart, which beat wildly in my chest as I watched the most beautiful woman in the world just…enjoy the moment.
Yep, this was worth it. This, right here, was worth everything. Every bit of torture, all of it.
Delaney stopped, planting her feet in the earth and tipping her head toward the sky. The sun peeked through the clouds, streaming over her face. We were here really early, since both of us had woken up on that couch at the crack of dawn. Not very many people were around. Just me, Delaney, and the tulips. Her blonde hair whipped in the wind. She pulled her jean jacket tighter around her but smiled nonetheless, eyes closed.
I pulled out my phone, not willing to let this moment expire without documenting it. I wanted this, right here, forever.
“Lane.”
She glanced over her shoulder, and I snapped a picture just as she grinned in response to seeing me there with my phone out.
“Best picture ever,” I declared.
Her lips thinned into a suppressed smile. “It’s hard to go wrong with such stunning scenery.”
“Yeah,” I hummed. “The scenery.”
“I know you probably don’t like it.” She gave me a sideways glance, her lips twisting. “What with all the color and everything.”
“Ilikecolor,” I said defensively.
“Blake, look at your outfit.”
