Just Breathe Trilogy Box Set (108 page)

“Hello,” Joe replies, standing and embracing the chef.

“Ahh,” Chef Andrew breathes out. “It looks like things have been going well, I see.” He offers me a comical grin as if to say
I told you so
.

“Hello, Chef,” I greet as he takes my hand and kisses it. “It’s a pleasure to see you again.”

“The pleasure is all mine,” he returns. “Or, shall I say all Joe’s?”

“She’s with me,” Joe states with a hint of sternness behind light humor.

“Of course she is,” the chef replies. “I saw pictures of you two in the news for a while now. I told you she’d come around.”

I roll my eyes to his statement. Joe and the chef exchange a few manly, boastful expressions.

“I have something special just for the two of you,” Chef Andrews announces. “Sit. Drink. Eat. I hope to delight your taste buds with every bite, making you fall even more in love with each other.”

I take a deep breath at the chef’s charismatic way and use of the
L
word.

He offers to push in my chair before returning to the kitchen.

For the next several hours, as there are half as many tables in the restaurant that are decorated specifically for the holiday, Joe and I chat, joke and recount stories about our times together as we dine on the delicacies prepared by the kitchen.

“I . . . um,” Joe begins, barely able to speak and seeming unusually nervous. “I wanted to give you your gift before dessert comes out.”

“Gift?” I question with shock.

“Yes,” Joe affirms. “The boat and dinner aren’t the only things.”

My lips purse, eager and anxious.

Joe places a short, rectangular, white box with red ribbon around it on the table and pushes it toward me. “It kind of goes with the concept of our trip out to sea. I know it’s cheesy, but it made me think of you when I saw it.”

My hand shakes a little as I reach for it. Before opening the box, my eyes bounce between it and Joe’s face several time. “I got you something too,” I admit. “But, I don’t have it with me. It’s back at the beach house and I didn’t know if . . . when . . . .”

“Emma,” Joe interrupts sweetly. He offers a reassuring smile that has an undertone of nervousness as he reaches and touches my hand that is surrounding his gift. “It’s okay. I didn’t get you something expecting something from you. You can give it to me when you’re ready.”

“Okay,” I say as he slides the box closer to me.

My lips part to say something, but I’m too distracted by the beauty of the colors of the stones, crystals and shell that are the exquisite necklace.

“It’s called the Ocean Energy Necklace,” Joe explains. “Maggie took me to Energy Muse when I asked about all of your jewelry. It’s supposed to be balancing, calming and cleansing,” Joe mentions. “There’s more to it, but I don’t remember.” Joe pauses for a second, maybe trying to remember or expecting me to say something. “Do you like it?” he checks.

“It’s beautiful. Thank you,” I say, feeling probably just as nervous as him. My gaze stays fixed on the necklace as I hold it delicately in my hands. “Thank you.”

“And, for the two lovebirds,” Chef Andrews announces suddenly. “I have a lovely raspberry panna cotta.”

Two servers, each carrying a single plate, places the desserts in front of Joe and me.

I put the necklace back in its box before eating.

As we finish our yummy confections, my heart flutters at the idea of giving Joe his gift when we get back to the beach. When Joe assists me with my shaw, the chef says his farewell and hands Joe a Valentine’s gift bag and a bottle of wine for us to take.

In the car, we peer into the box from the chef and find at least a dozen chocolate covered strawberries inside, flanked by what looks like chocolate covered raspberries an some other treats as well.

I ask Joe to help me put the necklace on as soon as we put the dessert bag off to the side.

“You don’t have to put it on,” Joe comments.

“I want to,” I reply.

A boyish grin spreads on Joe’s face while he assists me.

Before the door to our beach house is open, my lips are on Joe’s as I frantically contemplate how to give him his gift — I guess there’s no easy way of doing this.

“We have all night, beautiful,” Joe chuckles as my hands are quick to get his vest undone and desperate to remove his jacket as we make our way into the foyer. “There’s no need to hurry.”

“I know,” I comment. “I . . . I want you.”

I need to summon the courage to do this — can I do this?

Joe pulls away a little and takes my hand, leading me upstairs to the bedroom. Joe places the bag and wine on the table, then his jacket on the chair as I groan in protest. He loosens his tie with one hand as he tries to temper me with the other and his lips gradually connect with mine.

I huff irritation, more at myself than him because of my nerves. Turning, I head to one of my bags that rests inside of the armoire.

The sound of music fills the air.

“What’s wrong?” Joe asks, placing his hands on my hips. He wraps his arms around me when I stand up and starts swaying us to the music.

“Nothing,” I sigh. I turn to face him and hide the box behind my back.

“What do you have there?” he asks as he continues to kiss me sweetly.

“Nothing,” I lie.

“Is it fuzzy handcuffs?” he jokes.

My eyes widen slightly in response.

“Seriously?!” he checks, clearly perplexed by my expression.

“No,” I reply timidly.

“Then what?” he coaxes, continuing to persuade me with his mouth as we dance.

Taking a deep breath after pulling my lips away from his, I instruct, “Sit.” My left arm extends in the direction of the bed.

Joe’s smile widens and he takes several steps backward until his legs hit the edge of the bed.

“Sit,” I command a little more confidently.

Joe complies.

My body fidgets, not sure how to begin. “Umm . . .” I stutter.

Joe waits patiently for me.

“Okay, here,” I say sharply, taking three large steps in his direction, forcing myself to do it before I chicken out.

His large hands reach forward and I drop the box and move away from him. My hands feel clammy and my heart is racing. As he takes the lid off, my eyes shut and my head jerks to the side, unable to watch. A ringing goes off in my ears that drowns out any other sounds but the faint melody of the music.

Joe is silent for what feels like several minutes which forces me to look in his direction.

A single tear trails down the entire length of Joe’s left cheek as he stares at the metal object in his hand.

“You hate it,” I blurt, reaching for the gift.

Joe yanks his hand away and places it over his heart as he looks up at me and stands. “No,” he huffs with sadness in his voice. “No. I don’t hate it.” Another tear falls down his other cheek.

“Then . . .” I begin, confused by the sight of him crying. Before I get to finish my question, Joe’s hands are cupping my face as his lips press firmly against mine. He doesn’t let go until we both need a breath.

“I didn’t mean to make you upset,” I say as we stay connected.

“I’m not upset,” Joe reveals with a slight chuckle.

“Then . . . .”

“I’m happy,” he shares. “It’s perfect. You’re perfect.” His mouth takes mine again. “Thank you.”

The sharp edges of the metal press into my cheek more as Joe refuses to let me go. “Don’t get too excited about it,” I say, dismissing the level of meaning behind the item. I gently peel back his hand that is holding it so I can see his gift.

“Sorry,” he apologizes as he brushes his fingers over my skin. “I didn’t mean to . . . .”

“I know,” I agree, feeling the small indentations on my face.

“Will you put them on?” he asks sweetly, handing them to me as he retrieves his keys from his pocket.

“Sure,” I confirm. My hands nervously add the set of my apartment keys I had made just for him.

I had Taylor go get them made first thing in the morning when the store opened.

“Beautiful,” Joe calls, gliding his fingers down my face and kissing my head as I struggle to get the keys on. “Thank you so much, beautiful.” Just as I get the keys on, Joe steps in and delivers one of the most fervent kisses he’s ever given me.

The sound of the metal clinks as Joe steps closer — echoing like they’re back in his pocket. He presses me against the amour and slowly begins to take off my dress, guiding it past my shoulders as he kisses my now more bare body and lets the dress fall to the floor. As I stand wearing nothing but my panties and heels, Joe meticulously removes his tie, unbuttons his shirt and removes it along with his vest, all while not letting me touch him. He moves closer, surrounding me with his arms as his lips reconnect with mine. He allows me to undo his belt as he takes off his undershirt. His pants fall to the floor in a hurry and Joe is quick to scoop me up with my legs wrapped around him.

With one arm tightly curled around my waist, Joe uses his other to guide us effortlessly to the bed. His mouth gradually explores my lips, neck, shoulders, chest, bouncing around several times before drifting south. His warm, wet tongue trickles over my skin, evoking goosebumps.

A low, hearty chuckle releases from Joe’s throat as he buries his face between my legs. “One of mine?” he inquires.

With a smirk, I nod confirmation.

“To rip . . . or not to rip . . . that is the question?” Joe hums as he inspects the see-through lace, gently pushing his lips against them several times to kiss me.

I laugh but do not comment — I don't care what he does.

Capturing the right side with his teeth, Joe tugs them down a few inches and then moves to the other side. Back and forth, he gradually removes them. “Time for my favorite dessert,” he says, licking his lips.

Joe returns his tongue to my body, kissing, licking and nipping at my ankles all the way up to my inner thighs after he removes each of my shoes. My fingers get lost in his hair as he brings me close to release.

As my body finishes shuddering from my first orgasm, Joe creeps up my body and offers his mouth to me. My legs wrap around his waist, excited for penetration. While we kiss, Joe slides one of his hands down my body and starts to whirl his fingers over my clitoris before sliding inside my hole. He brings me close but doesn’t let me reach full satisfaction.

Once shifted over me, Joe dips the tip of his penis inside several times, teasing us both. I groan in protest, but Joe continues to move at his lackadaisical pace. As if we’ve got all the time in the world and no one else matters in the universe other than the two of us, Joe and I get lost in each other’s embrace. Our bodies move as if they have a mind of their own, knowing what to do at each precise moment for optimal pleasure.

When my fourth orgasm begins to surface, Joe laces our hands together as his forehead rests against mine. As we climax simultaneously, Joe grunts, “Emma . . . I love you.”

My throat begins to swell and my breathing becomes a little erratic.

He studies me for a second. “I don’t expect you to say anything . . . I . . . I just . . .” he pauses, “. . . I just need you to know how I feel.”

My throat clenches and tears begin to form in my eyes as he stares at me, patiently watching and waiting for my reaction.

“Emma?” Joe searches. “You okay?”

Unable to speak, my head nods as I yank his head down and press my lips to his.

My usual urge to run is non-existent. Why?

Not wanting to focus on my confusing reaction to Joe’s words, I use my body to distract myself — to distract him. Our bodies entwine for another glorious round of pleasure and it dawns on me when Joe utters those three little words again that all this time, when our bodies have played this beautiful symphony together, it’s been his way of telling me that he loves me — why haven’t I realized it before?

“Beautiful,” a low, sexy voice calls.

“Hmm,” I barely answer.

“Beautiful,” it repeats.

“Hmmmm,” I reply, keeping my eyes closed.

“I love you,” Joe whispers in my neck.

“Mmm hmm,” I hum.

Joe chuckles at my reply.

Sadie snuggles up to us more.

“Anna came in about a half hour ago and took care of Sadie,” Joe mentions.

“Go figure,” I comment.

“Do you want to sleep more, or should I get up and make us breakfast?” he inquires.

“You didn’t have Anna take care of that too?” I tease.

“No,” he laughs, kissing me. “I wanted to make it for you.”

I open my right eye part way to look at him. “Why?”

“To say thank you.”

“For what?” I question.

“For yesterday. For my gift. For last night,” he states.

“What about last night?”

“Not freaking out and leaving,” he says.

“About what?”

Joe chuckles. “About me telling you that I love you.” He kisses me again.

“As long as you don’t expect it back,” I return, shrugging my shoulders.

“Nope,” Joe says with a widening grin.

“What?”

“Nothing,” he replies.

“What?” I press.

“I know you’ll say it . . . in time,” he assumes.

“Somebody’s cocky today,” I suggest.

“I’m always cocky for you, beautiful,” Joe muses.

“Yes, you are,” I answer, offering my lips and rubbing his erection.

“Where are you going?” Joe inquires as I get out of bed. He tries to pull me back in.

“I need to pee,” I reveal.

“Just make sure you get back in bed when you’re done,” he directs sweetly.

“Why?”

“Because, you’ll be having breakfast in bed,” he shares, following me.

“Do you mean you or real food?” I check with a giggle.

“Food . . . and then me,” he comments, kissing my temple.

“I definitely need food first . . . especially after last night,” I mention.

“You’ll definitely need it because of what I plan to do to you this morning,” he announces.

“Looking forward to it,” I comment.

“Good,” he replies. “I love you.”

I groan hearing him repeat those three words again so quickly.

Joe doesn’t say anything and heads out of the bathroom with just his boxer briefs on while Sadie stays with me. A few seconds after my rear hits the toilet seat, Sadie gets up and leaves. There’s only one reason why she’d leave my side — she hears Joe in the kitchen.

After breakfast, Joe and I have our naked frolic in the glorious, six-headed shower.

As I towel-dry my hair, Joe asks, “Hey, beautiful?”

“Yeah?”

“I have something planned for us this morning,” he mentions.

“Yeah? What?”

“It’s a surprise,” he states.

“Okay.”

“We don’t have to do it if you don’t want to when we get there,” he suggests.

“Why? What is it?” I push lightly.

“Like I said,” Joe reminds, taking a hold of my waist. “It’s a surprise.”

I study him for a moment. “You didn’t schedule us to do something weird . . . like getting matching tattoos or something, did you?”

“No,” Joe confirms with a chuckle.

“So . . . I can decide when we get there?” I check.

“Yes,” he assures, kissing me.

“Okay,” I say.

To avoid traffic, Joe has us take a helicopter out of Malibu. The view of the coastline is gorgeous as we fly above it. About thirty minutes later, we start to descend into a parking lot.

“Where are we?” I ask eagerly, unable to see the building from where I’m sitting.

“At a speedway,” Joe answers.

“A speedway? For what? Is there some car race going on or something?” I search.

“Or something,” Joe verifies with a grin.

“Joseph,” I call speculatively.

“Let’s go inside first and then you can decide if you want to do this,” Joe suggest.

“Do what?” I press.

Joe smiles and assists with the rest of my harness.

We’re given a little tour of the facility’s interior before we’re led to a double, glass door. Joe stops me before heading outside to see the speedway’s track, allowing our guides to exit before us.

“This is just to help,” Joe begins.

“Help what?” I pry.

“Do you trust me?”

“Yes, why?” I inquire.

“Remember how well things went when we went back to the go-karts?”

“Yeah,” my voice confirms nervously.

“You won’t be driving anything,” Joe states. “I promise. And, we can stop at any time. I just ask that you try. Okay?”

I take a deep breath, knowing that there’s more to what’s about to happen, not sure if I want to, but I know I should — I regretted the day of the go-karts and bumper cars with my friends which is why Joe took me back that night to help overcome my fear.

Knowing that I can trust him completely, I smile timidly and nod.

“Good,” Joe says excitedly. “Before we get started on our adventure, I want to give you something that might help take the edge off.”

“What?” I say, eyeing him as uneasiness rises in my stomach.

“It’s not what you think,” he soothes, clearly seeing the trepidation on my face. Joe hands me a long, thin, velvet box.

My hands tremble as I open it. Steadying my breath, I close my eyes for a second and calm myself. Once the box is open, my gaze falls upon a stunning necklace. I gasp in surprise at its beauty.

“It’s a Sacred Quarts Crystal Necklace.” He takes it out. “I also got this at Energy Muse when I got you that necklace,” Joe says, pointing to the one he gave me last night as it clings to my neck.

“It’s beautiful,” I comment as he places it over my head.

The large gem dangles around my neck and catches in my cleavage while the strand is laced with smaller quartz gems. My fingers eagerly move to touch it.

“Maggie told me to just pick randomly and she would let me know if you already had something similar,” Joe explains. “This was the first thing I picked up when we got there. It’s energized for protection, healing and positive energy.”

I smile at his description, knowing that he really took the time to get me something special even though I already know many crystals’ purposes. “Thank you,” I say. “But, you already gave me my Valentine’s Day gift.”

“Do you like it?” he asks as if he’s not sure.

Without a word, I use my mouth and body to confirm my gratitude. “Yes,” I breathe out when my lips release his.

“Good,” he replies with a confident smile. “Follow me.” Joe takes my hand and tugs me along.

My attention is fixed on my necklace, so I don’t realize it right away when we’ve exited the door and are just about fifty feet from the track. There are several men standing just beyond us aside from several of our bodyguards along with a car just past them.

“This is our adventure,” Joe mentions, with a calm expression.

“What is?”

“Getting past your issue with cars,” he reveals.

I stare at him in horror for several seconds and am surprised when he doesn’t look nervous. “Just because I asked for nothing
too romantic
doesn’t mean I want the exact opposite of it,” I share.

“There are things I want to do with you and in order to really enjoy them, you need to become comfortable in a car or any moving vehicle,” Joe declares.

“What things?” I check.

Joe steps closer, taking my face in his hands and offers a long, firm, passionate kiss. “Things . . . but first, I want to introduce you to some people.”

“Who?”

Joe turns and faces three men I don’t know. “This is Jerry and Arnold Penn, the owners of the speedway,” he says, guiding me closer to them.

I greet both of them formally, shaking their hands as Joe informs them of my name.

“And, this gentleman,” Joe starts, “Is Dr. Roger Callahan. He’s here to help.”

Dr. Callahan, an older gentleman probably around Pop-Pop’s age, has kind eyes and his round face is covered with a short white beard and a mustache. We shake hands as Joe repeats my name for him.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Peterson,” Dr. Callahan greets.

“We’ll let you three get acquainted,” states Jerry.

“Don’t hesitate to let us know if you need anything,” mentions Arnold.

Joe thanks them before they leave us.

“Help me? How?” I ask with curiosity.

“Dr. Callahan is the founder of tapping therapy . . . remember the last treatment we had in Hawaii at the spa with Jimmy and Allen?” Joe asks.

“Yes,” I confirm.

“That was based on his therapy method,” Joe explains.

“I don’t understand,” I state.

“You know about the body’s energy system from all of the things you share on Naturally Me and what you’ve learned from Maggie’s family, right?” Joe checks.

“Yes,” I say hesitantly, unaware of where this is all going.

“What I’ve been teaching for over thirty years is a highly effective, non-invasive, healthy, self-help alternative to long-term, or drug related psychotherapy,” Dr. Callahan explains. “Thought-Field Therapy, when done in a certain algorithm for each specific emotion, addresses balancing the body’s energy system and allows you to eliminate most negative emotions within minutes which promotes your body’s healing ability. Ultimately, it works with unblocking your chi energy of emotions that are tied to events or things in your life.”

“So, how is this going to help me?” I ask, still trying to see why we’re at a speedway.

“Your reaction each time you're in a vehicle is tied to a variety of emotions; fear, anxiety, sadness, depression and probably several others,” the doctor states, giving me a moment to process everything. “My goal today is to rid you of those negative emotions and associations you have with cars.”

I chuckle nervously, not believing him.

“Will you allow me to demonstrate?” Dr. Callahan inspects. “It doesn’t matter if you believe it or not. I can connect you to a machine that will gage your current heart rate variability, showing you where it is now, where it is when you are just near the car, all the way to where you are in the car and it’s moving. Then, as we implement the different algorithms for each negative emotions, we’ll be able to change your heart rate variability range. It would be very narrow right now, which can be very taxing on the body and increase chances for medical issues, including a heart attack. Once I’m done with you today, your heart rate variability will increase, your body’s stress levels will reduce, and quite possibly be non-existent with any idea of or actually being in a car . . . even driving one yourself,” Dr. Callahan explains further.

“How did you feel after that therapy in Hawaii? Do you remember?” Joe inquires.

“I remember feeling good, but tired,” I answer truthfully.

“Fatigue can be expected after some treatments, especially if your body’s chi energy was suddenly allowed to flow,” the doctor shares. “Each person responds differently . Sometimes laughing, crying, yawning . . . even flatulence is another way in which the body releases the negative energy.”

“I do remember several of those happening during that treatment,” I mention. “So, what’s the goal for today?”

“We’ll go as far as you are willing,” Dr. Callahan informs. “Of course, I want optimum results, but I won’t force you to do anything you don’t feel comfortable with. That’s not what this therapy is about.”

I nod my understanding and agree.

“Why don’t we get started over here first?” suggests Joe, directing us to a table and chairs that are nearby.

Joe and Dr. Callahan take a seat after Joe pushes in mine for me. With my permission, the doctor hands me a round device to hold in the palm of my hand. He then places two note pads on the table, one in front of himself and the other in front of me along with a pen. I watch him jot down some numbers and conclude that they are the exact numbers on the device that I’m holding.

“Now, Ms. Peterson,” the doctor begins.

“Emma is fine,” I inform him.

With a smile, he continues, “Emma. Would you please look at the car over there?”

I comply and see him writing down something on the paper out of the corner of my eye.

“Can you do me a favor?” he checks.

“Sure,” I agree.

“Can you think about being in that car right now? Imagine yourself sitting in it. The engine is off and no one but you is in it,” he states. Dr. Callahan writes more numbers down on his pad. “Good.” He takes the device from my hand and places it on the table. “From the numbers one through ten, with ten being the highest level of anxiety and one being the lowest, can you tell me which number you feel right now?”

“Nine,” I blurt without thinking. Slightly embarrassed, I look away.

“Don’t worry,” he soothes. “I plan on making that number change.”

Dr. Callahan has me go through a series of steps, taking my index and middle finger of one hand and tapping my body in several different locations. He then asks me again about my number for my anxiety and requests that I write it down. I’m slightly surprised when my hand writes the number eight. He has me tap on the exterior of my palm, along the ridge that would be used for a karate chop and then has me repeat the same tapping sequence as before. We do this process several times until my number is reduced to a two. Dr. Callahan has me do a new sequence of movements and then pauses for several long seconds.

“How do you feel?” Joe asks eagerly.

“Good,” I answer honestly.

Dr. Callahan places the heart rate device back in my hand and has me look at the car while asking me the same first set of questions along with seeing myself sitting in the car. He writes down some numbers and this time, my heart rate range is much wider than any of the ones from the beginning.

“Emma,” Dr. Callahan calls sweetly. “If you don’t mind, I’d like you to continue to hold that while we walk towards the car. Is that okay with you?”

“Sure,” I agree, shrugging my shoulders.

The doctor checks the numbers on the device once we’re just a foot or two away from the vehicle and watches me closely. He takes the device out of my hand and has Joe hold it. Then, he has me repeat one of the previous tapping patterns.