The Marriage Mistake
Page 35

Her mama wiped the sweat off her forehead. “He will be here.”
“I’m never having sex again. I hate sex!”
Carina bit her lip and turned away. Her mother nodded. “I don’t blame you.”
Max’s voice cut through the room in sharp demand. “Maggie, look at me. Concentrate on my face when the contractions come. I’m going to tell you a story.”
“I hate fairy tales.”
“This is more like an action adventure. I’m going to tell you about the first time Michael and I bonded.”
Maggie looked a bit interested. He settled himself in the chair near the bed and leaned over. The monitor beeped and Max talked. “Our mothers were always close friends so we basically grew up together. One day they took us to the playground and there was this massive climbing thing. I think we were six at the time? Anyway, we both got into a bragging match of who could get to the top first. Michael was a bit smaller than me, but he was quicker, so it was sort of an even match. We both scrambled to the top, trying to kick the other one off in a crazy game of Lord of the Flies, and then we got there at the same exact time.” Max shook his head at the memory. “I remember that moment when we looked at each other. As if we both realized we’d be best friends and do everything together. Then we tried to shove the other one off.”
Maggie fought for breath. “Are you kidding me? Were you both psychos? What happened?”
“Michael and I both took a fall and broke our arms. The same damn one.”
Mama Conte snorted in disgust. “I was speaking with Max’s mama for only a minute, then we hear these screams. Both boys in a tangle in the dirt, blood everywhere. I think I almost passed out. We ran over to them and they were crying but laughing at the same time, as if they had both won something important.”
Max grinned. “We had matching casts and called ourselves ‘bone brothers.’ ”
Carina rolled her eyes. “Oh, I get it. Instead of blood brothers, you were bone brothers. Personally, I think you both were always a couple of boneheads.”
Tears slid down Maggie’s cheeks. Carina’s heart broke for her sister-in-law, and she ached to make things right. “He’s not going to make it, is he?”
Max leaned over the bed and gazed at Maggie. Fierce blue eyes commanded her to dig deep. “Right now it doesn’t matter, Maggie. I’m here for you. Lean on me, and think that Michael is my twin brother. Use me, and let’s get these babies born. I will not leave your side.”
The nurse walked in and examined her. “Let’s see, honey, are we ready to push?”
Maggie sniffed. Slowly, she reached out and took Max’s hand. “Don’t let go, okay?”
“Never.”
“Yes, I think I’m ready now.”
Carina and her mother stood on one side, and Max on the other. Time melted away until seconds blurred into minutes and back again. She pushed and grunted and cursed. Each one moved the twins a little bit farther, until Maggie lay back on the pillows, exhausted. Face red from exertion, perspiration rolling down her forehead, she gasped for air. “I can’t. No more.”
“Yes, mi amore. More.”
Carina mashed her fingers against her lips as her brother strolled into the room. Commanding and confident, he took Max’s place and held his wife’s hands. Pressing kisses to her cheeks and forehead, he murmured something in her ear, and she nodded. Crunched up again. And pushed.
“The head’s coming. Baby number one. One more, Maggie, make it a big one. Bear down and push!” A wail lit the air and Carina watched the wrinkly newborn slide into the world. Slippery and red, the baby twisted in crankiness and let out another roar. “It’s a boy.” She lay the baby on Maggie’s stomach and voices swirled around them. Maggie sobbed and touched her son.
“He’s so beautiful. Oh, my God.”
“You’re not done, love,” the nurse chirped. “Here comes number two. One more push, Maggie.”
With a roar, Maggie gritted her teeth.
Baby two popped out. “Another boy! Congratulations, Mama and Papa. You have two beautiful sons.”
Carina watched in awe as her brother touched the babies in wonder, eyes wet from tears. Her mother laughed with delight. The room exploded with activity as the babies were weighed, measured, and wrapped in blankets with matching knit caps. As they worked on patching Maggie up, Michael cooed to his sons and lifted them up.
“Meet Luke and Ethan.”
Her mother reached out and held Luke, rocking him and murmuring in Italian. Carina pressed a kiss to her sister-in-law’s cheek. “You did so good, Maggie,” she whispered. “I’m sorry Alexa couldn’t be here with you. I know you missed her.”
Maggie smiled up at her. “No, Carina, I’m glad it was you. You were meant to be here with me tonight. I loved you the moment we met, and watched you blossom into a beautiful woman. You are truly my sister, and I’d like for you be Luke’s godmother.”
Joy exploded inside of her until there was nothing left but pure emotion. She nodded, too choked up to talk. Her mother walked over and slid the blanket-covered bundle into her outstretched arms. “Meet your godson Luke.”
She stared down at the crinkly, wrinkled skin. The perfect mouth scrunched up in a tiny O. Dark hair peeked from beneath the pink and blue stretchy cap. Her fingers shook as she cooed and stroked his silky skin. He was a living, breathing miracle, proof of what can bloom from two people who love each other.
She blinked back a sheen of tears and looked up.
Max stared back. His blue eyes darkened with a raw need that reached across the space and ripped at her heart. She sucked in her breath.
And waited.
• • •
He was in love with her.
Max watched his wife. She cooed to the baby and shifted on her heels as she rocked him back and forth in the ancient rhythm women seemed to possess. A strange emotion clawed up from his gut and tore out of him, leaving a bloody battered mess behind. His head throbbed and his mouth dried up like after a night of hard drinking. And the truth finally came in earth-shattering form to rival any end-of-the-world scenario from Revelations.
He loved her.
Had always loved her. That was why no woman seemed to fit throughout his life. Oh, it had been so easy to blame it on other factors. His career. His urge for freedom and adventure. His age. Excuses loaded up and so did the endless parade of women, all the same. Except for Carina—his one constant. His friend. His lover. His soul mate.
Watching Maggie give birth cut at all the jagged pieces of his core. Challenged him on his bullshit and his false sense of honor, pride, and so-called respectability. Suddenly, it had nothing to do with being like his father. It had to do with having the guts to fight for the woman he loved on her terms. For giving her everything so she could finally choose.
He’d never given Carina a chance. All the years he made the rules to keep himself distant and safe. Even their marriage was based on a false proposal that mocked all the real feelings he had for the only woman to complete him.
Head spinning, he walked slowly over and stopped beside her. Gazing down at the baby, he tipped her chin up so she met his stare head-on. “Come home with me now.”
She blinked. “Why?”
“I’m asking you to do this for me. Please.”
Carina dragged in a shaky breath and nodded. “Okay.”
She handed Luke to Mama Conte. Michael walked over and put a hand on his shoulder. “Thank you, my friend. You were right. I will not interfere again. You are not only my business partner, but my brother, and have always been there for me. Forgive me.”
He hugged his friend and clapped him on the back. “No forgiveness is needed with family. Congratulations, Papa. We’ll be back later.”
“Si.”
He led Carina out of the hospital and they kept silent on the drive to the house. He kept glancing at her profile but she remained distant, staring out the window, deep in thought.
When he discovered her by the pool earlier that day, asleep with her animals by her side, he’d almost sunk to his knees. Her gorgeous face relaxed in the sun, moist lips parted, her lush beauty knocked him like a sucker punch. She responded to his voice and touch immediately, her subconscious already knowing she belonged to him. If Maggie hadn’t interrupted, he’d already be sunk into her hot, tight channel and convincing her that’s where she belonged. Under him. Inside him. With him. All the time.
Somehow, he needed to convince her of the truth. He needed to bind her body once more to his, then beg her not to leave. Beg her to forgive him.
It was his final play to make this marriage real.
• • •
She needed to end her marriage.
Carina stared out the window. The reality of the situation crashed around the moment Luke and Ethan slid into the world. She was living a lie. She wanted it all with Max—but she’d never have it. Because the bottom line was simple. Max could never love her the way she needed, and it was time to let him truly go.
She sensed he wanted to confess his own decision. Maybe they would finally agree, part friends, and deal with the consequences the best way possible.
He pulled up to their house way too fast and escorted her up the path and inside. One sharp order and Rocky stopped barking. He whined and sat down on the floor, giving her that sad puppy look that said he knew she was in trouble but didn’t know how to help.
Heart pounding, she took a deep breath. “Max, I think—”
“Upstairs.”
Her belly fisted and dipped low. God, he was sexy. He looked almost primitive with his nostrils flaring and those hot blue eyes beaming heat. Her nipples pressed against her shirt and she grew achy with need. She cursed the huskiness to her words and tried to clear her throat. “No. We need to talk, Max. I can’t do this anymore with you, or to myself. This isn’t working.”
“I know. I’m about to fix it now. Upstairs.”
Goose bumps pebbled her arms. He gripped her arm and led her toward the staircase. Her feet obeyed, until they ended up in the bedroom. The bed dominated the room with an almost obnoxious air. Ignoring her thumping heart, she faced him with hands crossed in front of her chest. “Happy now? Ready to tell me your master plan now? How you’re going to fix this mess of a marriage and our screwed-up relationship in the bedroom?”
He ripped off his shirt. Carina swallowed at all those bare, ridged muscles. One, two, three, four, five, six. Yes, an actual six-pack. His stomach made Channing Tatum seem pudgy. What was she doing? What was he doing? Oh, no, she was not going to have sex with this man again. He was frikkin nuts to think she was that stupid. “I’m not having sex with you, Max. You’re delusional if you think we’re going back to the beginning.”
He toed off his shoes. “Oh, we’re having sex. Right now. I was an idiot to wait this long and not show you how I feel. We could have a nice, tidy conversation in the kitchen but you wouldn’t believe a word I said.” His pants fell to his ankles and he kicked them aside. His erection bulged from his boxers. “So we’ll do it a better way.” His gaze pinned her to the wall. “Strip.”