Cockney accent?”
“No, a rugby player. But, like I said before, I couldn’t picture what that meant, so I mostly imagined you cominghome all bruised and sore and me giving you massages to make you feel better.”
His chuckle got caught in the back of his throat, sounding suspiciously like a suppressed sob. “Bruised and sore sounds about right. But I think you would’ve got frustrated with me fairly quickly. I lived, ate, breathed and slept rugby.”
“And now?”
“God only knows.” He blew out a breath. She sat so closeit ruffled a few strands of her hair, yet her whole bearing made her feel as distant as if she sat in the stands across the pitch from them. “I guess once I get back from California I’ll have to figure that out.”
She jerked back and stared at him. “You’ll do it?”
“Of course I will. It’s the least I could do, Mila.”
Tears welled in her eyes, making him feel angry and impotent allat once. “Thank you.”
“Please don’t. I’ve done nothing to deserve your thanks.”
She didn’t deny it. They sat like that a long time, next to each other but all alone. So close her body warmed his side, yet separated by a chasm of experience. His career had given him the most incredible opportunities, but it had taken him away from her at the time she’d needed him most.
And he’d neededher too. He hadn’t been kidding about the pillow. After nearly two weeks of cuddling with her every night, going back to the lonely sheets in his childhood bedroom had turned him into a temporary insomniac. His arms had felt empty, his bed cold. He’d thrown all his unspent passion into his career, but the feeling of missing something had nagged him for a long time.
She swiped at the tearson her cheeks, smearing makeup across them. The skin under her eyes had gone all dark and puffy.
She was even more beautiful than he remembered.
And she’d had his baby, all on her own, without him there to coach her through or help her cope with the pain. Without him even knowing she was on the opposite side of the world in agony because of him.
“Who was with you when you were inlabor?”
“My brother.”
He grimaced, suddenly hit with an unwelcome image of his own sister in stirrups. “Ugh. Poor bloke.”
She laughed softly. “He didn’t look. He sat next to my shoulder with the chair facing the wall so he could only see my face. But I ended up having an emergency C-section, and he glanced around the curtain at the wrong time. He was trying to act all manly, likehe could totally handle it, and then all of a sudden he fainted. Oddly enough, he became an Air Force pararescue jumper, so he’s really good at helping bloody people survive desperate situations.”
“Yeah, but you’re his sister. Different thing completely. I can’t even—” He shuddered. “This was your twin brother or one of the older ones?”
“My twin. Gabriel.”
“Where was your mum?”
“She’d planned to be there, but my grandma developed pneumonia and Mom had to go back to Montana and take care of her for a week. It was a few weeks before I was due, so we didn’t think it would be a problem, but I went into labor early.”
All the little details of a life he’d known nothing about. “You must’ve been terrified.”
She didn’t answer, her silence telling him more than he’dasked for. What had he wanted, anyway? For her to assure him that she’d been fine? Hardly suffered?
“I know it’s not a fair question, Ash, but what do you think you would’ve done?”
“If I’d received your letters?”
She nodded and her hair brushed his shoulder.
“I would’ve tried to give you your fantasy—the old-fashioned pram and a supercalifragilistic life. But you would’ve foundyourself far from home, married to a man who was married to his career. I would’ve tried, Camila, but not my hardest. I’ve always saved that for the pitch.”
The admission raised a wall between them, just as he’d known it would. But