Page 17 of The Locksmith’s Promise (The Promise Duet #1)

Long Past Time

M aggie

I’m here, aren’t I?

God, I’d missed that light in his eyes.

Bit by bit, the sun sank low in the sky while we talked, bathing the room in gold. As it slipped over the horizon, I reached out to turn on the lamp beside me and really looked at him for the first time since we’d sat down.

Physically, Baxter had changed.

Older and thicker, he had the substantial body of a man now rather than the long, lean muscles of his twenties or the lanky, overgrown limbs of his teens when I first fell for him.

The threads of grey at his temples made me want to lie down and expose my underbelly, while my speckled roots sent me to the hairdresser for a new dye job every four to six weeks.

I had stretch marks criss-crossing my tummy, a soft tummy that sported a tiny apron, my skin never having fully regained its elasticity after pregnancy.

My hips were rounder and my thighs thicker while he was simply deliciously thick, his body hard where mine had grown rather plush.

He blew out a harsh breath and laughed.

Running the fingers of both hands through his hair, he continued, “I can’t believe how good it feels to finally tell you what happened. Are you okay?”

The thing I’d dreamed and fantasized about for so long had happened.

And I wanted to run.

If Corwin was still neatly tucked into my womb, I would have.

“Maggie,” he warned, dipping his chin. “Don’t even think about it.”

My startled eyes flew to his. “Think about what?”

“Running.”

I barked out a laugh.

He grinned, and my stomach loop-de-looped. “You look like a hare caught in a trap.”

“I feel like a hare caught in a trap,” I murmured.

Pain flickered across his face. “I’m sure you’ve felt like that a lot over the past ten years.”

“No,” I denied, heat rising in my face. “Not once have I ever wished Cor away.”

“Did I say that?” he murmured.

“You inferred it,” I snapped.

He chuckled and wiped his palms down the thighs of his jeans. “Your old tricks won’t work with me, Maggie.”

“What old tricks?”

“Running, starting a fight, deflecting…” he trailed off then met my eyes. “I’ve thought about this, and all the ways it could possibly go wrong, for years. I’m going to catch everything you toss at me. And I’m going to love you through all of it until we get to the other side.”

I gasped. “You can’t say that!”

Mouth soft, eyes warm, his eyebrows rose. “Why not?”

“It’s too soon!”

At that, he laughed outright. “Too soon? It’s long past time, Mags.”

“You don’t know me anymore,” I stated.

“Do you love me, Maggie?” he asked softly.

I gaped. “That’s entirely beside the point.”

“Do you love me, Maggie?” he repeated, more firmly this time.

“I don’t trust you,” I hissed.

His lips firmed and he nodded. “I get that. But that wasn’t my question. Do you love me, Maggie?”

I threw up my hands. “Of course, I love you. I’ve always loved you. I will always love you.”

He relaxed back into the couch, a small smile teasing lips I remembered kissing all too well.

My gaze drifted over his face.

I wanted to smooth my thumb over the crease between his brows, dance the tips of my fingers over the smile lines fanning out from the corners of his eyes, press my cheek against the soft rasp of his bearded jaw.

I wanted it so badly it brought tears to my eyes.

My attention drifted further, spanning the width of his shoulders and the contours of his chest before drifting to the growing bulge at his groin.

The answering pulse in mine.

Voice husky, he murmured, “It’s not the most romantic declaration, but I’ll take it.”

He held my gaze, his knowing all too well where my thoughts had wandered.

“I’ve missed you so much, Maggie,” he admitted softly.

“I can’t,” I gasped, raising my palm to ward him off though he hadn’t moved. “I’m not ready.”

All traces of humour dissipated. “There’s no rush, baby,” he assured me quietly. “All I’m asking for is a chance.”

“A chance for what?”

“For you to get to know me again, to learn that you can trust me.”

“Baxter,” I warned. “You don’t know what a mess I was when things fell apart.”

“I want to know,” he claimed. “I want you to tell me everything. God, I wish I’d been there for you.”

I wrestled with the remnants of that old despair. “You don’t know what it took to scrape myself off the floor. I can’t go back there.”

“You won’t.”

“You can’t be sure.”

“I am.”

“Bax—”

“Maggie,” he clipped. “Do you fucking love me?”

“Yes!”

“Then give us a chance!”

The walls I’d built against hope were crumbling to dust, and instead of letting them fall, I was frantically plugging the holes.

What if he changes his mind?

Plug.

What if he’s not the same person I loved before?

Plug.

What if this is too confusing for Corwin?

Plug.

What if he breaks my heart again?

Plug. Plug. Plug.

I’d spent the past decade learning to let him go, building reinforcements around the heart he shattered.

How was I supposed to just let him back in?

Fear of the unknown, grief for a love that had nowhere to land, and ten years of leaning only on myself bubbled up and boiled over with a snarl. “I don’t know how!”

He nodded, taking my anger in stride. “That’s fine. I do. I’ve thought of little else for the past ten years. All you need to do is open yourself to the possibility, and I’ll take care of the rest.”

“You won’t push too hard?”

What was I doing?

How could I even think of going down this path again?

“You’ll let me know if I do,” he replied.

I dropped my face into my hands as hope exploded like a nuclear bomb in my chest. It would be my saving grace or my demise.

“I’m so scared,” I breathed through my hands as I pulled my knees up and rolled into a veritable ball.

His arms came around me. “I’m never going to let you go, Maggie.”

Holding myself rigid, I fought the tremors that threatened to take me.

Lifting me like I weighed nothing, he transferred me to his lap, tucked my head beneath his chin, and wrapped his arms around me, legs and all.

“God, Maggie,” he breathed, his lips moving in my hair. “I can’t believe you’re in my arms. It hardly seems real.”

With one hand creeping up to cup his nape, I turned my face into his throat and closed my eyes.

Baxter was holding me.

Baxter’s wide chest rose and fell beneath me with each life-affirming breath.

Baxter’s skin radiated warmth under my palm.

Baxter’s scent filled my lungs as I pressed my nose to his throat.

His big body, warm and solid beneath me.

His strong arms around me.

His breath fluttering over my temple.

His heart beating against mine.

My memories of us came flooding back.

Baxter laughing.

Baxter’s eyes smiling into mine as he tugged me forward into one adventure after another.

Baxter holding my hand, weaving his fingers through mine, studying their intersection like it was art.

“I love how we look together, how neatly your hand fits into mine,” he murmured.

He lay back beside me on our rock, the sun glinting off the gold streaks in his hair, with our joined hands held up for his perusal.

Bringing them to his mouth, he kissed the back of mine and shifted up to his elbow.

“I’m going to give you a key, Maggie,” he promised.

I hummed. “Tell me more about this key. Does it come with a house and a door?” I teased.

He smiled. “Sunshine yellow. Do you want a flowerbed?”

“Tulips and wild roses,” I murmured.

He nodded. “Consider it done. We’ll have two kids, and a dog named Jeff.”

I barked out a laugh. “What if it’s a girl dog?”

He grinned. “Doesn’t matter. We’re naming her Jeff.”

“Have you named our kids as well?”

He looked up to the sky for a moment before throwing out two names. “Xavier and Xavierina.”

“We might have to work on the girl’s name,” I murmured, laughing up at him.

“We’ll leave the kids with your parents and go to the Loose Moose every Friday night.”

His smile softened. “It’ll be you and me, Mags. You and me against the world.”

And now he was here, God help me, he was here.

The sound came first, a low warning like the creaking of a bridge bearing too much weight.

“No,” I moaned, digging my fingers into the back of his neck with one hand and fisting his shirt with the other.

Baxter stiffened beneath me. “Maggie?”

“I’m okay,” I blurted.

Was I?

I gulped down air and blew it back out, frantic to stem the tide of a love I had buried for far too long.

Skin so warm, breath so sweet, his strong arms locked tight around me.

What if he walks away again?

My panic rose.

“Maggie, Maggie, Maggie,” he soothed, wrapping me up tighter and rocking us gently.

I missed his scent, his strength, the smile in his eyes, and the laughter that used to rumble up from his chest with the force of a rockslide.

Not once had I heard him laugh like that since we’d been back.

And I desperately, desperately wanted to.

“Bax,” I mewled, curling into him further as the first tears fell. “I missed you. I missed you so much.”

“Baby, baby, baby,” he breathed, his voice breaking.

Tears streamed down my face like their source was the sea itself.

I’d missed the solid muscles of his chest, his lap bearing my weight, his hands on my body, and the steady beat of a heart that had borne more pain than one person should ever have to.

But he was here now.

And so was I.

His low murmur anchored me even as the rising force of my tears threatened to carry me away.

Eleven years of longing flowed forward within the safety of his arms.

The years of missing him, loving him, praying for him, and hoping against hope he was safe and happy.

The years, weeks, days, hours, and minutes I’d buried my love for him underneath the rubble of my heart.

Every single one of Corwin’s milestones they’d missed celebrating together, those losses I’d grieved for both of them.

And myself.

It poured out of me.

Finally, I drew in a long, shuddering breath and pressed my mouth to his neck, my exhausted eyes fluttering shut at the bittersweet homecoming.

Don’t let me go, please don’t let me go.

“I’m so sorry, baby.” He squeezed me tighter as his voice lowered. “It’s over now, you hear me? It’s me and you, me and you and Cor and Jeff against the world.”

You and me, Maggie. You and me against the world.

I answered with a watery laugh as I pushed myself off his chest and wiped my face. “Oh my gosh,” I muttered. “That was a long time coming.”

It was a purging.

A washing away of the past to make room for the future.

“I’m glad I was here for it,” he answered, adding his palms to the mix.

I snorted as he smiled at me.

He raised his eyebrows, eyes steady on mine. “Want to watch a movie?”

“Yeah,” I nodded, unwilling to let him go just yet. “That sounds wonderfully normal.”

It took a few minutes, but my body melted into his as the movie played in the background, and we grew accustomed to each other once more.

When the time came for him to go, he laced his fingers through mine and led me to the door.

I longed for him to stay, but I needed him to go.

His dark eyes caressed my face as fleeting as a lover’s first sweet touch.

Part of me wanted to run, turn my face away, bury this hope that had so recently taken root.

The other part, the part that knew it was already too late, leaned into him as he gently cupped my face in his big hands, tipped my chin up, and dipped his head.

The first brush of his lips closed my eyes, a sensual shudder weakening my knees.

Finally.

The second arched my back as my body sought alignment with his.

More.

The third awakened a deep, aching hunger for all of him.

A moan split my lips, and he slanted his mouth across mine, the tip of his tongue delving inside to taste me for the first time in eleven years.

Exquisite.

I tipped my head back further, wrapped my arms around his back, and opened to him.

Home .

His tongue stroked mine, inviting me to participate in a dance as old as time, one to which we used to know the steps so intimately.

Tears leaked from the corners of my eyes, running back to soak the hair at my temples, but these were cleansing.

A baptism; a new start ripe with forgiveness and renewal.

He drew back slowly, staring down at me as his thumbs brushed the last of them away. Dark eyes assessing, his mouth tightened as he gave me a small, sure nod.

“We’re going to be okay, my sweet Maggie.” He rested his forehead against mine and closed his eyes. “We’re going to be great.”