In Between Heartbeats (Hearts in Waiting Duet: Book Two) Read online

  Until Addison.

  And in the months since, it’s been impossible to push her from my mind. It’s like her non-stop spiral in my brain had brought her to my door, face-to-face with decisions that were almost too overwhelming to even contemplate.

  Hell, I wouldn’t be surprised if she already packed it up to Los Angeles with plans to never speak to me again. But…I can’t just let things go with her. I have to at least try to explain my side of things. I can’t live with her thinking I’m no better than the other men in her life, treating her as if her presence is expendable. And I sure as fuck am not going to have my child grow up without me.

  “Where’s Mom?” Willow asks, drawing me out of my thoughts.

  Exactly what I’d like to fucking know, I think.

  Emily is the first to wake in our house every morning. By the time Willow and I drag ourselves out of bed, Emily’s usually already on the front porch, rocking in the early morning breeze with a cup of coffee loaded with hazelnut creamer and sugar.

  However, this morning, I woke to a pristine coffee pot in the kitchen and an empty, made bed in her room. Forty minutes and five missed calls later—and possibly a ransacked house from looking for a note I never found—I’m not any closer to knowing her whereabouts.

  I feel so fucking guilty, even if the lines are blurred on whether or not I have reason to. It’s not like Emily’s against me sleeping with other women, it just isn’t something we talk about. In fact, I don’t think we’ve discussed it since we first decided to marry, when she was so worried that the choice was taking away the option for me to have a fulfilling relationship someday.

  Maybe I should have spent more time talking it over with her last night. Instead, I was so focused on my worry of where Addison ran off to and how guilty the whole thing made me feel, I didn’t stop to think about how Emily was feeling. I just let her go to bed to deal with her thoughts alone.

  I pull my arm out from between Willow and I and wrap it around her shoulders. “Your mom had to go out this morning. So I guess it’s just you and me for breakfast. Whaddya want?”

  “Pancakes!” She jumps off the couch and heads toward the kitchen.

  Pancakes. Of course.

  I let my head fall back on the couch, stopping the groan before it can escape my lips. If anyone could rival Addison’s love for pancakes, it would be Willow.

  Grabbing my cell phone, I send a quick text to Drake, checking again to see if he’s heard from Addison or Olivia, then follow Willow’s lead into the kitchen. I sit down at the island and watch as she gathers all the ingredients together on the countertop in front of me.

  If it were the school year, I would just mix up a quick batch of Bisquick, but with Willow home for the summer, I have more flexible hours at work, so I make them from scratch instead. She does most of the work at this point; I’m just here for show.

  As Willow begins measuring out the flour, she catches her tongue between her teeth and, even though my mind is spinning with worry, I crack a small smile at the cute look of concentration on her face. When she’s done, she places the flour-covered measuring cup on the counter and puts the cap back on the cannister.

  “So,” she drags out, “did you talk to Mom about the bra thing?”

  “Can’t say I found the time,” I tell her truthfully.

  “Okay,” she says, nodding.

  She’s trying to sound grown up and serious, so I do my best to keep the smile off my face.

  “I would appreciate it if you could find the time today,” she says, causing my eyebrows to fly up my forehead. “School starts in two weeks. It would be so embarrassing to keep adjusting myself in the middle of class.”

  “Yeah, uh-huh. Got it,” I dismiss teasingly.

  Lord, help me for the teenage years. I am not ready.

  “Not to mention, I want to get rid of these gorilla legs before the first day,” she adds.

  “I’ll be sure to bring it up to her today,” I promise.

  She nods her head, appeased with my response, and continues to mix her batter before pulling out her bright red skillet. With care, she starts the gas burner and covers it with non-stick spray. It’s probably odd that a ten-year-old has her very own skillet, but she loves to cook and had been begging for her own cookware for quite a while. Of course, my parents—especially my mother—went overboard, buying everything she could possibly need.

  “Did you take your medicine?” I ask.

  She rolls her eyes at me, faking annoyance that I even bothered to ask, but she nods her head anyway.

  “What do you have planned with Pops and Nana today?” I ask.

  “Library. Park. Lunch. Nails.” She holds up a finger with each word and then shakes them around as she finishes.

  “Sounds like a big day.”

  “Oh, it will be,” she says seriously, stopping halfway to the stove to run her hand under the faucet of the sink and sprinkle the water onto the skillet like rain. The skillet crackles and sputters, alerting her that it’s ready for the batter.

  She takes a step back, eyes trained on the batter as the bubbles slowly pop to the surface, while I get to work making a fresh pot of coffee. When it’s finally dripping, I turn to rest against the counter, pulling my phone back out of my pocket and scrolling to my recent call log. I call Emily and wait for the ringing to hit my ear, praying that she answers this time.

  Just as the phone goes to voicemail, I hear the front door open, and Emily’s voice rings out.

  “I’m home! And I’ve got company,” she calls.

  Taking a deep breath, I drop the phone to the counter and cross my arms in front of my chest. I try to appear stern, even as relief washes over me.

  “Hi, Mom! We’re making pancakes!” Willow says excitedly.

  “Oh, those smell good,” Emily replies, stepping into the room and looking directly at me.

  I plaster a fake smile on my face and raise my eyebrows at her in question.

  As soon as Addison comes into view, my smile drops, my eyes shifting between the two women.

  What.

  The.

  Fuck.

  3

  Chase

  I’m not sure how long I stare at the two of them before I realize I probably look like an idiot and slam my mouth shut.

  Emily looks terrible. I’ve seen her look worse over the years, especially during chemo—when her hair was falling out in chunks and she could barely stand without throwing up. Once she decided to stop treatment altogether, there was a short period when she looked like herself again, but time is already slipping out from under us and her once sparkling eyes are now hollow and tired.

  Addison stands slightly behind Emily, almost as if she’s trying to hide, but there is no hiding her. She’s radiant, captivating. I keep telling myself to look away, but I’m worried she’ll disappear right in front of me if I’m not careful. She’s already done it once before.

  “Are you hungry?” Emily asks, turning back to Addison.

  She nods in response then turns to me with a tentative smile and a small wave.

  “She loves pancakes,” I say.

  Emily looks between the two of us, a smile tugging at her lips.

  To Addison, I’m sure the smile looks genuine, but I notice how strained and tight her cheeks look.

  “Then she’ll fit right in here,” Emily responds. At a snail’s pace, she makes her way to the stove, dropping a kiss to the top of Willow’s head and wrapping her arms around her. “Good morning, baby.”

  “Emily, maybe you should go lie down,” I tell her gruffly. Even to my own ears, my tone sounds harsh, but it’s hard to fake happiness when the walls are caving in around you.

  She halts her movements and stares hard at me, her eyes telling me exactly what she thinks I should do with my suggestion.

  Mad. She’s definitely mad.

  With Willow and Addison in the room, I choose to pick my battles and let it go for now. I turn to look back at Addison, needing the reminder that she i
s, in fact, standing in front of me. We stay locked in a stalemate for a few seconds, neither of us knowing what to say or do next. Questions are running so quickly through my mind, but I can’t grasp any of them to set them free.

  Finally, I ask her the most unimportant one of all. “Want some coffee?” For Willow’s sake, I try my best to sound relaxed, even as a host of emotions roll through me. Addison nods again, so I tip my head down to the table between us. “Have a seat.”

  I turn my back—happy to keep my shaking hands busy—and pull two coffee cups out of the cabinet. I leave one black for Addison and fill the other with Emily’s too-sweet creamer.

  My head and stomach are both spinning. I peek over at Willow, but she seems unaware of the tension in the room. Instead, she and Emily are cooking the last of the pancakes, their words and laughter filling the air.

  Normally, I’d allow myself to enjoy the sweet sound that rarely occurs in this house anymore, but I’m too wrapped up in my own misery to relax. Hesitantly, I walk over to Emily, setting down her cup of coffee while mouthing, Don’t bite.

  She nods her head once then looks away.

  Next, I circle around the table and hand Addison hers. I reach out to touch her shoulder. I mean for the touch to be light and reassuring; but when she peers up at me with those sad eyes, my arm feels weighed down with our struggles, and the apology I want to give her dies on my lips. Reluctantly, I let go, feeling like a complete failure of a man. I sit down across from her then, staring at her unabashedly.

  Her hair has gotten longer since our time together. I didn’t notice that yesterday. It falls over one shoulder, leaving behind a small wet spot on her white T-shirt where the ends of the strands lay. Her face is fresh and makeup free, but her eyes are ringed in red. I know I’m the cause of that and I hate myself for it. I did such a shitty job trying to explain myself to her last night. I should have gone after her. I should have made her listen—at least long enough to explain that I’m not a complete asshole. Only maybe a partial one.

  “Willow, I know you two met yesterday, but this is Addison,” Emily says. “She’s going to be staying with us for a few days, if that’s okay.”

  Willow only shrugs in response, but I stay perfectly still, afraid to even breathe.

  My gaze bores into the back of Emily’s head, willing her to turn around so I can get some kind of inkling of what the hell she might be thinking right now, but she continues making pancakes as though she didn’t just knock the floor out from underneath us all.

  Addison drops her cup to the table and her eyes bounce around in panic. My heart seizes with worry that she’ll bolt again.

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she finally says. “I can just stay at the motel.”

  “So, that’s where you were.” I try to keep my face neutral, but I can feel the frown creeping into my brow.

  Emily finally turns, eyeing my expression with an ironic chuckle. She leans one hip against the counter and when she crosses her arms over her chest, I can tell she’s about to get sassy with me. “Where else would she have been?”

  Her tone is teasing, but the underlying look of annoyance on her face tells me she hasn’t quite forgiven me for the way I handled things last night, probably between both her and Addison.

  “So you just decided to take things into your own hands,” I mutter, bringing my cup of coffee to my lips. I take a long pull, silently begging the caffeine to help me make more sense out of this morning.

  How’d she even know where to find Addison?

  Emily gives me that blank stare of hers that always makes me feel like a child. It’s a look she does well, but I haven’t seen it much in the past few years. It’s kind of nice seeing it now, even though it sucks that it’s directed at me. We’ve been so focused on her health that everything else has paled in comparison, but I guess we finally found something else worth pissing her off.

  “Emily, can you help me check that Willow packed everything she needs for tonight?” I ask, immediately rising from my chair.

  Willow sends me a goofy frown over her shoulder, not at all amused that I insinuated she might not know how to pack an overnight bag, but she goes right back to plating pancakes without a peep.

  “Oh, I’m sure she did just fine,” Emily says, then stretches her arms above her head and lets out a very loud—and very fake—yawn.

  Seriously?

  “Em,” I say sharply.

  Three beautiful faces turn my way—one anxious, one curious, and one annoyed.

  Emily continues to ignore me, picking up two plates loaded up with pancakes. I’d be willing to bet that Willow would devour hers and Emily would only push them around the plate, pretending to eat for Willow’s sake.

  “Willow, let’s go eat these up in my room before Nana and Pops come over. We’re due for some snuggles,” Emily says. “We’ll talk later,” she says to me, smiling again at Addison on her way out of the room.

  Willow chases after her, begging to watch TV while they eat.

  I don’t hear Emily’s response, but I know she’ll agree. When it comes to Willow, Emily has no backbone.

  Not that she’s the only one.

  Rising, I grab the two plates of pancakes left on the countertop for me and Addison and place them at our spots on the table. I put the bottle of syrup in front of her plate and then stare at mine.

  “I’m sorry,” I finally say. “I’m not sure what you and Emily have discussed, but I’m assuming she did at least tell you that we are not in a romantic relationship with each other.”

  There’s really no point in beating around the bush. I’ve spent hours replaying what happened between us last night, what I should have done and said. Considering she’s now sitting in my kitchen, I can only assume Emily explained our situation to Addison more thoroughly than I had, but that doesn’t let me off the hook for my actions and the hurt I’ve caused her.

  “Yes,” she says simply.

  I nod my head and force myself to say more. “I’m sorry I was dishonest. It was never my intention to hurt you, or even Emily, for that matter. There were no women before you. That might sound like a line, but it’s true. When I married Emily, I committed to our family. Our marriage may not be anything more than a piece of paper, but I have not slept with or even kissed a woman for almost six years. Until you.”

  Even in my rationalization, I feel like a dick. I can’t pretend everything’s okay or that it all makes sense. Hell, I don’t even expect Addison to forgive me. I just want to fix the hurt I caused her last night. The hurt I can still see looking back at me.

  “I’m sorry, too. Running off last night—”

  “No, don’t do that,” I interrupt. “Don’t take any responsibility for the mess we’re in. This was all me.”

  “Okay,” she says slowly, turning back to the plate in front of her and chewing on her lip. “You’re right, you screwed up. But can I yell at you after I eat these pancakes? Because they look really good and I can’t focus with them right in my face.”

  I smile gently, feeling some of the tension in my shoulders ease. “Yeah, well, Willow doesn’t mess around when it comes to pancakes.”

  “I like her already.” She picks up her fork and starts cutting into the fluffy layers before taking a bite. “Okay, these are definitely better than mine.”

  “I told you,” I say, digging into my own pile of pancakes. “From scratch is the way to go.”

  We sit in silence then, like the room isn’t spinning with unasked questions. She finishes her pancakes while I can only manage a few bites. My stomach is already full of tension. When she’s done, I pick up her plate and take it to the sink. Then I turn back around, checking the time on my phone.

  “My parents will be here soon to pick Willow up for the day. Maybe we can talk after they leave? I’m assuming you’re not ready to meet them.” I want to cringe the moment I say it, as if this is the morning after a wild romp, full of hope and possibility for the future.

  “Right,
” she says, eyes a little wide. She finishes her coffee and brings the cup toward me at the sink. “Probably not the best idea.”

  I nod, even though her quick response leaves a sinking feeling deep in my gut. I don’t even know what I expected her to say, but before I can reply, the doorbell pierces the air. I spin to Addison, a small laugh bursting out of me.

  I’m not sure why I’m laughing, because nothing about the heaviness of this day is worth grinning about, but here I am, looking like a damn idiot. Maybe I’m delirious. Or the stress of the day is causing me to lose that last shred of sanity I’m trying so desperately to hang onto.

  “My parents,” I whisper, just barely managing to hold back a laugh.

  I hurry into the foyer just as the door opens in front of me.

  “Yoo-hoo! Chase? Willow?” my mother’s voice calls out.

  I cover the space in two quick steps, grabbing the thick door in my large grip. “Good morning, Mom.” I pull the door back as slowly and painfully as I’d pull back a scab.

  “Oh, hello, honey,” she responds, placing one hand on my cheek while her burgundy lips connect to the other. “I was worried you didn’t hear the doorbell.”

  “Oh, for goodness sake, Janice. The whole point of a doorbell is so it can be heard throughout the entire house,” my father says. He rests his palm on the door to push it open and greets me with a warm smile. “Mornin’, son. Sorry to barge in. Your mother is pretty excited for our day with Willow.”

  I nod my head, as if this is a one-time occurrence and isn’t exactly how our greeting goes every single time they come over. As we head into the kitchen, I feel a light sweat prick my brow, my head spinning to come up with an explanation for the beautiful woman waiting for us. “It’s okay, Pops. This is…”