All I'll Ever Need Page 2

  June dressed hastily and applied the barest minimum of make-up. Tonight was a family-only gathering, so nobody would care if her make-up or clothes weren’t perfect. This was supposed to be the calm before the storm, it was the reason most of them had opted to drive or fly up to the remote, beautiful location a day earlier than the rest of the guests.

  Because of the expected dusting of snow this weekend, the Taylors and the Sawyers—Chrissy’s future in-laws—had arrived early. The idea had always been that if the roads became unpassable, at least the main parties would be present and the wedding could continue. Any amount of snow would likely cause road closures, simply because South Africans were not equipped to drive in snow.

  June made her way down to the smaller of the two dining rooms the hotel offered—the larger would be used for the wedding—and found nearly everyone already gathered there. They were all milling around, drinks in hand, laughing and chatting. Her eyes sought, and immediately located, Linc. He was still dressed in the jeans and t-shirt he’d worn on the trip up. He looked wickedly handsome with his mussed black hair and his stubble-darkened jaw. He was having a conversation with his father, Colton, and Chrissy’s fiancé, James. Linc smiled at something James said, but June knew him well enough to be able to discern that he was distracted. He glanced up at her entrance and his entire body went rigid when his brooding gaze met hers.

  She couldn’t read those turbulent dark gray eyes. He shifted his focus back to James, quite effectively dismissing June and, feeling snubbed, she made her way to where Chrissy stood chatting with her mother and her future mother-in-law.

  Chrissy’s face lit up when she spotted June.

  “There’s my maid of honor,” she teased, and June smiled warmly at the younger woman. She had been flattered when Chrissy had asked her to fill the role of maid of honor. She had a small entourage with June and James’ four-year-old niece as a flower girl. While James had asked his business partner and best friend, Linc, to be his best man.

  “Hey,” June greeted the pretty bride-to-be with a hug and a kiss. She did the same with Mary, her mother-in-law, and Rachel Sawyer. “Any last minute jitters? Or do you have this in the bag?”

  “I mean, I’m nervous, worried I’m going to trip over my hem, or knock over the wedding cake, or spill something on my dress.” Chrissy’s eyes were alight with laughter.

  June grinned. They were all valid concerns, considering Chrissy was a total klutz who tripped over her own feet more often than not. The younger woman blamed her clumsiness on her height. She was nearly six feet tall and hadn’t acquired any of the grace one would expect from a tall, slender woman. Instead, she was like a baby giraffe, all legs and awkwardness. She had once despaired that she would ever find a man taller than her but he’d been there all along, in the shape of James, Linc’s steady, serious business partner. They seemed an unlikely pair. James—who handled the finance and resource management aspects of his and Linc’s internationally acclaimed landscape architecture business—was all predatory grace and sleek sophistication, while Chrissy often said the exact wrong thing in company and was a bit of a tomboy. Because of her wavy brown hair, abundance of freckles, and slight diastema, Chrissy often joked that she looked like a hard-working farmer’s wife rather than the future wife of an urbane businessman with movie star good looks.

  But James was absolutely smitten.

  June would never admit it to anyone, but she had found it incredibly hard to watch their, initially adversarial, relationship blossom over the last six months, while—simultaneously—her marriage to Linc had died a slow and agonizing death. June was happy for her friend, but she couldn’t help but envy the absolute devotion and naked adoration James clearly felt for Chrissy. The man often looked completely bemused, like he wasn’t sure what had hit him. He’d known Chrissy for years and only in the last half a year had he seen her as something other than his partner’s kid sister.

  June shook herself out of her morose thoughts. “You’ll be fine. James will catch you if you fall.”

  Chrissy sighed dreamily in response to her words. “I know. He always does.”

  June swallowed past a lump in her throat and kept her smile bright. “So, no pre-wedding jitters aside from that?”

  “No. I was concerned the cake wouldn’t be delivered on time, especially if it snows, but it arrived safe and sound just an hour ago. Everything else we need is here. I just hope the guests can make it. There’s a fair amount of snow forecast for tonight.”

  “It’ll be fine.” June soothed her. “If they can’t make it up here, we’ll just have a nice intimate family affair.”

  “I catered for thirty people. With only us, we’re looking at eleven people. There’s intimate and then there’s just plain sad.” The words emerged on a sigh and her mother patted her arm.

  “Don’t go borrowing trouble,” Mary said, her voice stern. “For now let’s work on the assumption that all of your guests will get here without a problem. No point stressing over something that hasn’t happened yet and that you really have no control over.”

  “Yes, Mom.” Chrissy’s voice trembled slightly, and her mother eyed her askance.

  “And you can curb the sass, young lady. Just because you’re getting married this weekend, doesn’t mean I can’t give you a time out.”

  It was such a ridiculous thing to say that there was a slight pause before Chrissy snorted and they all started laughing.

  Shelby and Caleb Hammond—James’ sister and brother-in-law—chose that moment to join the group.

  “What’s funny?” Shelby asked curiously.

  “Tell you later,” Chrissy promised her. “Bella asleep?”

  “Finally, yes. It took forever to get her to calm down after the excitement of the day.” Shelby shook her head in exasperation. “She insisted on trying on her flower girl dress again and then demanded to sleep in it.”

  June tried to focus on what the woman was saying but her gaze kept diverting to where Linc still stood with James and Colton. James’ father had joined them, and the four men launched into what looked like a very earnest discussion. Linc’s eyes kept flitting to hers and it made her wonder if she was the topic of their intense conversation.

  Chapter Five

  Surely, he wouldn’t have told them about his earlier discussion with her? It would ruin the weekend. But when the small group suddenly burst into laughter, it immediately dispelled her irrational paranoia.

  Linc’s moody gaze diverted back to the men and June released a shuddering breath of relief.

  She didn’t know how she got through the evening. She laughed when everyone else did, never entirely sure what the joke was, nodded and hemmed and hawed her way through several conversations, but never really offered an opinion on anything. The evening seemed to drag on forever, until—in the blink of an eye—it was over. So odd how that happened sometimes.

  Before she knew it, the parents were saying goodnight, Chrissy and James were sneaking off, Shelby and Caleb pleaded exhaustion and trudged away hand in hand.

  Then it was just June.

  And Linc.

  The party had moved to a lounge after dinner. The room had seemed cozy and comfortable when everyone else had been there with them. Yet now, with just the two of them, it felt as if at shrank. The room felt much too small and much too romantic with its crackling fire, heavy drapes, and overstuffed furniture.

  June scooted forward, ready to make her own excuses and head to bed, but the thought of Linc following her up and then sharing that bed with her, quelled her initial impulse to cut and run. So she sat, her butt perched precariously close to the edge of the seat, not sure what her next move should be.

  Linc was gloomily contemplating the depths of his tumbler of Scotch, there was about a finger of the amber liquid left in the crystal glass. Because June had been hyperaware of him all evening, she knew that he’d been nursing that same drink for the last hour or more.

  “I don’t want a divorce.” His words—deliver
ed in a dark and subdued voice—fell into the echoing silence like stones into an empty well.

  June froze. She even stopped breathing as she considered that statement. For a second, something inside her leaped up with a resounding yes! But she pushed that traitorous little flame of hope down to the ground and stomped on it for good measure.

  No coming back from this! she reminded herself and inhaled deeply, searching for composure, before releasing the breath in a long, controlled exhalation.

  “Linc, there’s nothing left between us. You know that. This marriage has been dead for so long, it’s beyond resuscitation.”

  “I don’t agree. At all. I never saw it like that. I thought you wanted space. You wouldn’t let me touch you. You wouldn’t let me hold you. What the hell was I supposed to do? I figured you wanted me to leave you alone. And I did. For six endless fucking months, I didn’t touch you. Because I believed that’s what you wanted.”

  “You never tried to touch me. Or hold me,” she pointed out with a frown, and he slammed the glass down onto the wooden side table so violently, June was shocked the table—or the glass—or both, didn’t crack on impact.

  “I did. Every night for two weeks after the-the—you know—I’d turn to you in bed, I’d gather you into my arms and you’d go rigid and politely extract yourself from my hold and scoot practically all the way to the other end of the bed. Some nights I was surprised you didn’t fall out of bed in your desperation to get as far away from me as possible.”

  She considered his words and shook her head.

  “That was…that was just sex. I wasn’t ready for sex.”

  He glared at her, his brow lowering and his chest puffing in a show of indignation.

  “It wasn’t sex. I was trying to hold you. To comfort you. I wanted us to be close. But you were so damned distant.”

  “No, you wanted more,” she said, her voice fading with each word, until she concluded on a quiet, helpless whisper, “you always want more.”

  “How could you even think that about me?” he asked, his voice lacking rancor. He sounded genuinely baffled and hurt. “You’d just lost our baby, for Christ’s sake. I would never have demanded sex from you. We were both still raw from the loss. What kind of callous asshole do you think I am?”

  “Y-you had an erection every time you touched me.” Her voice quavered uncertainly. At first, she had been repulsed by the very idea of sex. But then, once he had moved out of their bedroom—after months with no physical contact—she had regretted knowing that even the desire between them was fading.

  “I regularly have a hard-on around you, Jupe. Especially recently, because it’s been so long since we’ve been together. Fuck, I’m hard right now, even though I’m pissed off as hell at you. Doesn’t mean I want to make love with you right this second.”

  Her eyes dropped before she could stop herself, testing the veracity of his statement. Sure enough, he was straining against the button fly of those faded jeans. June’s throat went dry and her glance became a stare. And the stare became a full-on gape at the one thing she knew had the power to make her forget everything, at least for a little while.

  Okay, so maybe his desire for her wasn’t as dead as she had believed.

  She shook herself, forcing her mind away from such dangerous thoughts.

  No. She had to stay the course. It was the best thing for both of them. They didn’t have a future together. Their painful past had taught her that much.

  Besides, while a remnant of their physical attraction may still exist between them, frantically flickering like the flame of a dying candle, their emotional connection—never as deep or meaningful as she had yearned for it to be—was long gone. It had died with her last pregnancy.

  “Like I said before,” she said quietly, lifting her eyes to meet his. “That’s just sex. It’s not enough. It has never been enough.”

  “What do you want from me?” His voice sounded raw and broken. His face was drawn into a harsh, tight mask of haughty indifference. Completely at odds with that devastated voice, and it confused her.

  “I told you,” she whispered. She shut her eyes for a long moment before forcing herself to open them again and meet his gaze. There was no indifference in the dark, roiling depths of his eyes. Instead there was chaos and confusion and absolute bleakness. “A divorce. I want a divorce, Linc. I can’t be with you anymore.”

  “You once told me I was the love of your life,” he reminded her, still in that same gut-wrenchingly raw voice.

  “Things change,” she said after a long pause. Her words fluttered between them, skittish and insubstantial. They lacked conviction. She cleared her throat. This was important. He needed to believe her next words. Even if it was a bald-faced lie. She continued, her voice strengthening with every word. “People change. I don’t love you anymore, Linc. Maybe I never did. Not in the way I once believed.”

  His face remained expressionless but he paled, that much was obvious, even in the warm glow from the firelight. She watched the color bleach from his skin. He lowered his eyes to where his drink rested on the side table and he reached for the glass again. When he lifted the tumbler, his hand was shaking, violently enough to send some of the small amount of liquid sloshing over the side of the glass. He seemed to get that reaction under control almost immediately, his hand firming around the glass as he lifted it to his mouth to toss back what was left of his drink in one gulp.

  “I-I’m going to bed,” she said softly, unable to stay in his presence a moment longer. Not wanting to betray herself to him. Not wanting him to recognize the accomplished liar she had become.

  He didn’t acknowledge her words, and he was in the process of pouring himself another measure of Scotch when she left the room on shaking legs.

  Chapter Six

  Linc watched Jupe leave and had to bite his tongue hard to stop himself from calling her back. He didn’t have any control over himself or his voice right now and he doubted her name would have emerged on a steady note.

  She wanted a divorce…

  A divorce.

  How the fuck had they even reached this point? He had known there was some distance between them these last few months. But he’d believed he was doing the right thing in giving her space to breathe. In allowing her time to heal. When all along she had been thinking of leaving him. Abandoning their marriage. Giving up on them.

  He couldn’t fathom it.

  How the hell had this happened?

  How could she think this was the way forward? All along, while he’d been fantasizing about this weekend, planning a seduction, figuring out how to steer them back on course, she’d been giving up on them. How long had she been thinking about this? Planning to leave him?

  Days? Weeks? Fucking months?

  While he had been missing her. Yearning for her. While he had wanted nothing more than to hold her and know that everything would be fine between them, she had planned on walking away and never looking back.

  The sting of betrayal scalded. It scorched his skin, burned his throat, and stung the back of his eyes and nose. And yet, undermining all his righteous fury, was fear. Absolute terror that she meant it, that this was the end for them.

  Linc didn’t know how to continue without Jupe. She was fundamental to his very existence and he couldn’t lose her.

  And yet he worried that in allowing her six whole fucking months to stew over this he had lost this battle without firing a single shot in his defense.

  His marriage could be well over and Linc hadn’t seen it coming at all.

  Linc returned to their room nearly three hours later. Close to one in the morning. June, who had been unable to fall asleep, tensed when the door opened and light from the hallway spilled into the room. Her eyes were mere slits as she watched the tall silhouette of her husband stumble across the threshold. He swore softly and shut the door with the exaggerated care he normally took when he wasn’t quite sober.

  “Jupe? You awake?” he asked in a gruff undertone. S
he didn’t reply, sighing deeply instead, hoping he would think she was asleep. The act would never have fooled him if he was sober, but she watched his shoulders sag at the small sound and knew that he had fallen for her ruse.

  He staggered into the en-suite and left the door ajar. From where she lay on the bed, facing the bathroom, she had an unencumbered view of him as he dragged his t-shirt off and tossed it carelessly to the floor. She sighed again. This time the sound was entirely involuntary as she took in his magnificent chest and torso. Those broad, tanned shoulders, the well-defined slopes of his pecs, and the hard, beautifully delineated abs, leading down to a flat stomach so splendidly framed by the V of his Adonis belt.

  His jeans dipped low on his hips and lovingly shaped his hard, perfectly curved butt, and in profile as he was, she could see the bulge of his crotch, pronounced even when he wasn’t aroused. He ran a weary hand over the scruff on his jaw. His stubble was usually dark and heavy this time of night and she could hear the scrape of it over his rough palm. The sound made her shudder as she—for the first time in months—imagined it dragging over her nipples. Her hand unconsciously moved to the mound of her breast, cupping it, trying to ease the ache in the hard, tight peak. She bit back a groan.

  The timing of this was all wrong. Why now, after she had told him she wanted a divorce, did she seem to need him with a ferocity that had been completely missing in the last half a year? She clenched her thighs tightly and forced herself to shut her eyes. But his image was burned into her retinas and he remained inescapable. She heard the slight squeak of the faucet and then water running. The familiar sounds of him brushing his teeth soon followed. After what seemed like ages, she heard him unbuckle his belt and her eyes sprang open almost as if through a will of their own.

  She moaned quietly when he unceremoniously pushed his jeans and boxer briefs down. He had his back to her and she had could feast her eyes on his hard, beautiful, eminently biteable ass. Those glorious thighs, so strong and perfectly muscled.