Page 27 of The Locksmith’s Promise (The Promise Duet #1)

Never

M aggie

My jaw dropped at the raw fury blistering the man’s face. Scrunching my eyebrows together, I strained to make out his features.

Shock ricocheted through my system.

“Is that Deacon?”

Deacon, the man Jenny had been seeing off and on the entire time Baxter and I were together.

Though we’d hung out with them a few times, he didn’t live in Moose Lake and was a bit of a lone wolf.

Right now, he was furious.

And all that fury was directed at Baxter.

Oh, God. He was me. Jenny was his Baxter. Ten years ago, he was me .

The music, the laughter, and the wood floors of the bar receded leaving a solitary vignette holding me captive.

Jenny clamped her hand down over his forearm, leaning forward and speaking intently until he sat back down and turned away from us.

I stared at Deacon’s back, my blood rushing in my ears as the past reared up and played out once more, filling every corner of my mind.

Dark hair spread across his pillow.

Hand splayed over Baxter’s naked chest.

One long, shapely leg tangled up with his, the sheet barely covering him.

I shuddered.

“Maggie,” Baxter whispered gruffly.

Baxter.

Baxter was here with me.

We had a son.

We had a future.

Tearing my attention away from Deacon and Jenny, my eyes slid toward Baxter slowly. But no sooner had I met his gaze than mine danced away.

Unable to reconcile the man before me with the man who ripped my heart out of my chest with the woman sitting not thirty feet away, I couldn’t hold his gaze.

“Guys,” Miller interrupted. “Don’t jump to conclusions.”

With the memory vividly clinging to me, my eyes snapped up to meet his as I stated coldly, “No jumping involved, Miller.”

Miller sighed and shook his head. “Y’all have put me in an impossible position.”

Jenny and Miller were friends. For them, this was old news. It wasn’t their fault it seemed like yesterday to me.

“There’s no problem,” I murmured. “It’s all in the past.”

Baxter dipped his chin and stared at the scarred surface of the tabletop for a moment, then pushed his chair back and murmured, “Are you ready to head home?”

Pasting a brittle smile on my face, I turned to our table. “It was fun, guys.”

It wasn’t right for Baxter to feel the shame he must be feeling for something that may or may not have happened over a decade ago. Though based on Deacon’s reaction, that hope was becoming ever slimmer.

I swallowed and forced the words past the lump in my throat as I waved a finger between Baxter and me. “We’ve got a few bumps to iron out, but we’re getting there. Sorry to end the night on a bit of a downer.”

Maxine, Julie, and Vera stood and offered hugs and promises to get together later in the week while Miller raised his eyebrows and stared at Baxter.

He closed his eyes and offered a brief nod.

My hackles rose. What was that about?

I didn’t speak on the way back until we got to my door. “Um—”

Baxter stuffed his hands in his pockets and stated gruffly, “It’s okay, Maggie. I understand you don’t want me to stay tonight.”

I shook my head, eyes trained on the porch beneath our feet. We were not going backwards.

Not after all this time.

Not when we’d finally made our way back to one another.

I turned and placed my palm over his heart. “I want you to stay, Bax. I’m just sad.”

His breath hissed through his teeth as he moved toward me. Cupping his hand around my elbow, he gently drew me close. “I’m sad, too. And I’m so fucking sorry, baby.”

I nodded against his chest. “I know, Bax, I know. I wish it didn’t affect me like it does but being back here, with you, has ripped the scab off the wound, and it’s raw. It never really healed.”

“I wish—” he cut himself off.

“Me, too. Let’s just go to bed.” I sighed and tipped my chin back, meeting those dark eyes I loved so much. “Can we just go to bed?”

He nodded and turned me around in the circle of his arms so I could open the door. Then he let me go.

We moved through the house like two ghosts, shedding outer layers, dropping wallets and purses and keys as we slipped into my bedroom.

With every deep breath, I fought off yesterday.

In.

Out.

Filling my lungs with calm, expelling the pain.

A controlled release.

Slipping past each other to use the bathroom.

Brushing teeth.

The mundane, the ordinary, the extraordinary I only ever imagined in my wildest dreams.

Undressing without a word.

Stripping down as today slipped into yesterday.

In.

Out.

I turned off the bathroom light and padded across the floor in my bare feet, Baxter’s old sweatshirt brushing the tops of my thighs.

I rubbed the hem, threadbare after all these years, between my fingers.

The bedside lamp cast a warm glow but left me cold.

Baxter lay back on his side of the bed, one arm folded behind his head, the other hand resting on his flat stomach.

Watching me.

My name scrolled across his ribs beneath his promise.

I swallowed harshly, a wave of dizziness rocking me at the thought of just how very quickly it could all disappear.

In.

Out.

Slipping between the sheets, my body shook.

“Maggie,” he growled.

In.

I broke.

Rolling toward him, I pressed my face into his naked chest and keened.

“Aw, fuck.” His hand cradled the back of my head as he curled his long body around me.

I clung to him, my fingers crawling around his back to hold him closer as deep, guttural sobs rocked me.

“Baby, baby, baby,” he crooned, his lips brushing the shell of my ear.

His other arm came around my back and pulled my body into alignment with his.

I couldn’t get close enough, trapping his legs between mine before switching tactics and tucking mine between his.

Gratified when he tightened around me.

I sucked in a rough, trembling breath and blew it back out.

Expelling the last remnants of the past.

Leaving me empty.

Tipping my chin up, I pressed my mouth to the warm skin of his neck and breathed him in.

Yes.

This.

Him.

I needed him.

Beside me.

Curled around me.

Inside me.

My tongue darted out to taste him, feeling him still in my arms, his strong arms locking around my back.

My hips rocked.

His answered.

He exhaled shakily, dipping his chin to gently take my mouth as he grew hard against me.

“Bax,” I breathed, freeing one leg to wrap it around his hip, grinding the ache at my core against his cock.

My fucking cock.

His hand slapped down on my hip and held me immobile. “Now, Maggie? Are you sure?”

Fresh tears sprang to my eyes. “Please, Bax. Don’t turn me away.”

“Never,” he exclaimed, rolling me beneath him.

Grasping the back of my knee, he hiked my knee around his hip and settled between my thighs.

With his other hand wrapped around the nape of my neck, he took my mouth, my lips parting beneath the force of his kiss as he licked inside my mouth.

“Maggie, my Maggie,” he groaned, releasing my knee and slapping his palm down on the mattress as he pushed up and rolled his hips.

My neck arched back as his weight pressed me back into the mattress, grounding me in the present. “Yes, Baxter,” I gasped. “Just like that.”

“No condom, Maggie,” he demanded.

I shook my head. “No condom.”

Rising to his knees between my thighs, he whipped off my panties before pushing his boxers down to release his heavy erection.

I whimpered at the loss of his body heat.

Couldn’t get close enough fast enough.

Needing and wanting every part of him.

Even the parts that hurt.

Notching himself at my entrance, he entered me with one firm, unrelenting push, his eyes drifting shut momentarily as he held himself deep inside me before drawing back and doing it again.

Taking me slowly.

Deeply.

Driving inside until his pelvis ground against my core.

Dark eyes holding mine.

A tear slipping down his cheek and landed on my bottom lip.

I licked the salt away and tugged his head down, claiming him anew. Tunneling my fingers into his thick hair as I stroked his tongue with mine.

Leaving the past behind.

A sharp burst of pleasure ignited inside me, the flames licking my walls with every drag of his cock.

“Baxter,” I mewled.

“Let it happen, Maggie,” he urged, his lips dancing over my face. “I love you. I love you so damn much.”

I sobbed, my body locking around him as my orgasm pummeled me, wave after wave washing over me as he anchored my trembling form to his.

“Yes, baby,” he rasped as his hips stuttered to a stop.

Groaning, he tucked his face into my neck and pulsed inside me, his big body quaking.

“Mine,” I whispered, nuzzling my nose into his cheek.

He pressed his lips to my throat.

“Only ever yours.”

I slept deeply, locked in his embrace.

It was a purging of sorts.

The likes of which I did not feel the full effects until the next morning.

He left me with a tender kiss and a promise to see me later.

With Corwin at my parents’ place, I took my time before bundling up to extinguish the last of my triggers.

A calm acceptance settled over me as I walked to the docks. The icy freshness of the air leant me clarity. This was my town and our future. The past was exactly that: the past.

Rounding the corner, I looked down the path and froze in my tracks.

There, on the bench overlooking the water, sat Baxter and Jenny.

I clapped a gloved hand over my mouth.

Don’t jump to conclusions.

I tried, God help me, I tried, but the fear of being left again devoured me.

I shivered in the cold, unable to move or look away.

Baxter rose to his feet and paced back and forth, running a rough hand through the hair I’d gripped only a few hours before.

I watched as he pulled out his cell phone.

Jerked when mine rang in my pocket.

I pulled it out. Seeing his name on the screen, I tugged my glove off and answered it. “Hey.”

“Maggie,” he began, his voice hurried. “I’ve got a few things to do today. I might not be able to see you until later.”

“What are you doing?”

He dropped to his haunches then sprang back up and resumed pacing.

“I’ve got to see Miller about a few things. Can I call you later when I’m done?”

“Sure,” I rasped.

“Thanks,” he blurted and pulled the phone away from his ear before slapping it back up. “Maggie, I love you.”

“I love you, too,” I whispered.

He stabbed his screen with his finger and shoved it back into his pocket.

Hands braced on his hips, he turned his head away from Jenny.

I could see his shoulders heaving from where I stood.

Then, hands gripping his hair, he curled down onto his haunches and roared, “Fuck!”