Chapter 13 Clara frowned at him when Colt returned to the table. "Where's Indie?" "Getting a drink." "You look like you could use one yourself," Noah said. He needed a hell of a lot more than one after holding Indie on the dance floor. Clara touched his arm. "Are you okay?" "Just fighting like hell to get my wife back." "You've already made so much progress in such a short amount of time. Hopefully this dinner with your mom will be the final step in Indie trusting your relationship is safe for her." He frowned. "How would a meal with my mother help?" Clara's mouth opened and closed. "Well...um...you know...family's important." He stepped closer to her. "Clara...has something happened between Indie and my mother that I don't know about?" Her eyes widened. "I...uh-" "Colt!" He looked up to see Waldo weaving toward them, his eyes glazed and a wide smile on his face, a beer in his grip. Jesus. "I think you've probably had enough, man." "It's my birthday. It's my job to drink a lot today!" A frown cut into his brows. "Sober me doesn't care about other people's business, but drunk me is nosy. Who's the old dude at the bar, talking to your wife?" Colt straightened, his body stiffening. "What are you talking about?" "There's some old dude with a creepy scar on his chin-" Colt shot into the crowd, not waiting to hear Waldo finish his sentence. His father was here, at the bar...and he was with Indie. He spotted them just as Indie stepped away from the bar. Immediately, his father stepped in front of her, almost causing her to collide with his chest. Colt saw red. Two more strides and he grabbed the asshole by the back of his shirt and swung him around, shoving him back against the bar. "What the fuck are you doing here and why are you near my wife?" Colt yelled. Gasps sounded around him, the shuffle of people moving away. Gordon's smirk could only be described as evil. "Hey, son. I was just having a chat with your lady." Colt's fists tightened. Every part of him wanted to hit the guy. Ram his fist so hard into Gordon's face that he went down and didn't get back up. "Come on, Colt. It was just a conversation. I wanted to ask if you were here." The fuck he was. "You're trying to tell me you were just going to ask about me and leave her alone?" "I'm not trying to tell you. I am telling you. I wanna talk to you." A hand touched his arm. "Colt, step back. He's not worth it." Noah. His voice was calm but firm. Colt got in his dad's face. "We have nothing to talk about. The only reason I'm not planting my fist into your face right now is because that would make me just like you-a damn coward who preys on people weaker than me." There was a small narrowing of Gordon's eyes. "Colt-" "Obviously, you're still as stupid as you were twenty-six years ago, because you didn't heed my warning." His fingers tightened around his father's shirt. "Leave now. There is no scenario where you come out unscathed if you stay." "Step outside with me, and I'll tell you what'll make me leave." Colt could have laughed. He wanted money. "You're not getting a fucking cent. Get out. Before I make you." Then he shoved his father's chest and stepped back. Without another glance his dad's way, he took Indie's hand and stomped through the crowd. He wasn't sure how he'd expected Indie to react. But she matched him step for step. When they reached his Audi, he helped her in before sliding behind the wheel. He felt Indie's gaze on him the entire drive home. She didn't ask if he was okay. She didn't ask a single question. Instead, she just set her hand on his thigh, and that helped him regain a fraction of the sanity he'd lost in that bar. It also reiterated everything he already knew. That she knew him better than anyone else. And her touch healed him. He set his palm on top of hers and immediately she turned her hand over, interlacing their fingers. When they reached the house, he went straight to her side to help her out of the car before setting a hand on the small of her back and leading her inside. She slipped off her shoes as he locked the bolt, and again, he could feel her gaze on him. When he finally turned to her, he said the two words he should have said long ago. "I'm sorry." "For what?" "Anything my father said to you." "He barely said anything. Just that we'd barely had a chance to get to know each other, when I tried to leave." A vein in Colt's temple throbbed. He hated the thought of the asshole saying a single word to her. Indie took that final step toward him and pressed her palm to his chest. "Are you okay?" "No." He couldn't lie to her. He'd never been able to lie to her. "Let me stay the night. I'll sleep on the couch-hell, I'll sleep on the floor. But don't ask me to leave...please." Her brows flickered. The silence that passed almost had him believing she was going to say no. That she was going to ask him to walk out of this house, leave her unguarded, and then he'd barely get a second of sleep. "I'll make up the couch," she said quietly. The knot in his stomach unraveled. Thank fuck. Instead of walking away, she dropped her head on his chest. His arms immediately wrapped around her, fitting her flush against his body. He breathed her in, needing everything she had to give. Her calm. Her soft. Her. Seeing his father looming over her tonight had scared him. It brought back every nightmare from his childhood of his father standing over his mother during a drug-induced rage. Only then, he'd been helpless to do anything. Not anymore. Indie lifted her head, her beautiful green eyes boring into him. "You don't have to be scared for me." "I will always be scared at the prospect of not being able to protect you. Because the idea of losing you kills me." Her eyes softened. "You're not going to lose me. And I don't need protection. I'm very good at the swift kick in the balls." He bit back a laugh. "What do you need, then?" "Right now?" Her gaze dipped to his lips, and something primal erupted deep inside him. Slowly, she lifted to her toes. He didn't dare move, scared that a single twitch would break the moment. She cupped his cheek, her skin warm and so infinitely feminine. Then, finally, she kissed him. The touch of her lips against his was soft and certain and real. It was gentle, coaxing his lips apart before she slid inside his mouth, then he was tasting her. And she tasted exactly how he remembered. Sweet like strawberries and a hint of honey. The world didn't slow or speed up-it stopped. She stopped his world. He curved an arm around her waist and turned them, pressing her to the wall. Feeling all of her against him. The cushion of her breasts. The heat of her thigh as her leg wrapped around his waist. She was like water he'd been deprived of for months. The air he needed to breathe. He lifted her, and her legs immediately wrapped around him, holding him in place. There were so many nights over the last year that he'd missed her. Craved her. And finally, he was here-they were here-and she was choosing him. He moved his mouth down her throat, tasting her skin. When he found the spot on her neck that he knew made her shudder, he sucked, and her entire body trembled. He wanted to keep going. To kiss and stroke and taste every inch of her. But not tonight. Not after his father had tainted the evening. He lifted his mouth and touched his forehead to hers. "You're magic, Indie. You know that? You do something to me that nothing and no one else could ever do." Her hands curved around his neck. "It's called love." Indie scrunched her eyes and rolled to her side. She couldn't sleep. How long had she been lying in bed, not tired at all? Not even a little bit. One hour? Two? All she could think about was Colt on her couch in the other room. And that kiss...God, that kiss. It had been even better than the first one. Emotional and intimate and healing. It was crazy, but she'd felt that reconnection after a part of their marriage had broken a year ago. When Colt had first moved to California, she'd lived with him, and there'd been times when he'd come home from a long mission and all he'd seemed to want was to kiss and hold her like he had tonight. That was how he'd quieted the storm inside him. And she'd always tried to give him all of her. But now, lying here by herself felt wrong. She rolled to her other side. Even though the lights were off, the moon cast gentle light over the room. Her eyes landed on her phone. And like she had so many other nights, she reached out and opened her photos. Not her most recent photos. Her albums...or one album in particular. The same album she'd opened a million times before. Every time she missed him, this was where she went. Every time she felt like she couldn't breathe without him, this was the album that gave her air. Pictures of her and Colt. Some of them smiling. Some laughing. She stopped on one where she was looking up at him, and he was looking down at her. Neither of them were smiling. She couldn't even remember who'd taken the photo. But the love...God, you could almost feel it. Tears she couldn't stop pressed at her eyes. They were so happy. But this was before it had gotten hard and her mental health had taken such a turn. She blinked away the tears before flicking over to messages. Her fingers just started moving. Indie: If you had a do-over, would you do that day differently? It was late. He was probably asleep. And even if he wasn't, he probably didn't even know what day she was talking about. Her phone vibrated with a response. Colt: I've asked myself that question a million times...and the answer is always yes. Indie: What would you change? Colt: I would have called an ambulance for my mother, then called you right away. Whatever we did next would have been a joint decision. But I would have been with you for that call from the IVF clinic. I would have held you when they told you that our last embryo didn't take. And I could have pulled you up from the water when you felt like you were drowning. Tears spilled down her cheeks. If that had happened, if Colt had been there for her to lean on, cry on, maybe it would have hurt less. Maybe she wouldn't have felt like the future she'd built in her mind had shattered, leaving nothing but blank space. Colt: I'm so sorry I wasn't there when you needed me. Next time, I swear to you, I will be. Indie: I need you. Three words. And only a few seconds later, the door opened. The bed behind her dipped, and she was enveloped by Colt's strong chest and arms. More tears fell. Tears of grief for that night and for everything else. That they never got their baby. The stolen months of trying and failing. The dream of becoming pregnant postponed again and again. "Indie, tell me what you're feeling," he whispered into her ear. "Every cycle, I got my hopes up that it was going to be different because of something that we did or changed, and then it was the same outcome. And I started to wonder...what's wrong with me? Why is my body broken?" His arm tightened around her. "There is nothing wrong with you. You aren't broken. You are perfect. And this journey isn't over for you." She wasn't sure she believed that. But she wanted to. She nuzzled back into him, and it was only the feel of him around her, the beating of his heart against her back, that finally allowed her to sleep.