Only Trick (30 page)

“I like linguine,”
Trick announces as I grab a box of spaghetti.

I purse my lips to the side and exchange the box for fettuccine. Trick smirks. We spend the next forty-five minutes making compromises and learning about each other’s food preferences beyond eggs, strawberry jelly, and multigrain bread. We haven’t mentioned the words engagement, wedding, or marriage since leaving Rogue Seduction, yet our shopping says it all. We’re planning forever and sometimes forever starts with something as simple as pasta.

We walk back to his place, both hands loaded with sacks of food. Words are sparse, but the sidelong glances with sexy smiles are plentiful. Bliss. It’s pure bliss.

“I’m going to take a quick shower,” Trick announces as I put the salmon, that we agreed on, in the oven.

“Okay.”

“I’ll be about ten minutes if that helps you gauge the time.”

I wash my hands and grab a towel. “The salmon will take about twenty, so you should be fine.”

He shrugs off his shirt on the way to the bathroom. “I wasn’t talking about the fish. I just didn’t know if ten minutes would be enough time for you to do
your thing
while I’m in the shower.”

I squint in confusion. He attempts to hide his grin by biting his bottom lip. And then it hits me.

“Oh my God!” My skin flames with embarrassment and anger. “You watched that?”

I throw the towel at him, but it only makes it a couple feet. Then I grab my purse and stomp toward the elevator. He hooks his arm around my waist and hauls me over to the bed.

“Let me down!”

Tossing me on the bed he straddles me, pinning my flailing arms above my head. With my eyes squeezed shut, I thrash my head side to side. “Let me go! I trusted you!”

“Darby …”

“We’re over. Don’t Darby me!”

He holds me in place but doesn’t say anymore. After all my resistance siphons the last drop of energy from my body, I open my eyes. “I’m so embarrassed,” I whisper between labored breaths, averting my gaze.

“I’m so in love.”

Damn him!

I look at him and he kisses me. Our tongues slide against each other, soft moans vibrating between our mouths. Releasing my hands and my lips, he sits up and undresses me with hungry eyes but patient hands. My tongue eases out, wetting my lips as he stands to remove his pants.

“Never stop looking at me this way,” he says with vulnerable emotion in his deep voice.

I move my gaze up his body until I meet his eyes. “Never stop loving me this way.”

He takes my foot, pressing his lips to my arch. “Never,” he whispers.

*

It takes us
both a few seconds to realize the smoke and fire alarm going off is not from our steamy lovemaking.

“Shit!” Trick jumps out of bed and runs to the kitchen.

With hot pads on his hands, he takes the salmon out of the oven, naked.
You don’t see that every day.
I wrap a blanket around myself and tiptoe behind him. “It was supposed to be lemon-pepper, but blackened is fine too.”

He gives me a wry look, then glances up to the ceiling. As if on cue, the alarm stops. He pulls off the hot pads then tugs my blanket away. “Where was I?”

I giggle and grab the blanket. Wrapping it around my back, I hold it open in the front. Trick hugs my naked body while hoisting me up and carrying me back to bed, blanket wrapped around both of us. He lays us down, me on top of him, our faces hidden under a curtain of unruly red hair.

“I can’t believe you said yes.”

Hours later, and here it is, the first acknowledgement that what I think happened wasn’t just a dream.

I smile. “I can’t believe you asked.”

For one rare moment, there’s translucency to his emotions; right now I feel his thoughts. They’re the ones that can’t imagine why I’d agree to marry someone after only a few months—someone with a troubled, unknown past.

“I know you’re wondering why I would say yes to the dark part of your life that you don’t even understand yourself.” I kiss the corner of his mouth. “But I don’t think you have any idea how honored I feel to be invited into the parts of you that can’t be seen. And tonight…” I tear up “…you chose me. Every time I hold my breath … hoping, praying,
needing
you to choose me … you do. You chose me and the last time someone chose me was the day I was born … and then she died.”

Trick kisses my tear-stained cheeks while his hand cups the back of my head—the loving gesture I’ve come to know, expect, and cherish. “I’ll always choose you.”

*

It’s after nine
o’clock before we manage to separate long enough to make a new dinner—cold cereal with bananas. So much for showing off my culinary skills. I think his place is going to smell like burnt salmon for the next six months.

“Can we talk about the video?” Trick nudges my leg as we eat our cereal, sitting on the sofa at opposite ends, legs in the middle.

“No.” I scowl.

“It was when you still thought I was gay.”

I spoon around the last few floating wheat squares and bobbing bananas in my bowl, keeping my head down. What I’m not doing is engaging in this conversation.

“Want to know what I thought when I saw it?”

“No.”

“I was so fucking turned on.”

I roll my eyes. Apparently he doesn’t know what “no” means.

“Because you have to know I was thinking of you. God, since the first day I met you, it’s all I could do. Seeing you, touching you, smelling you, fucking
sleeping
with you and your hands all over me, face in my neck. If I wasn’t touching myself fantasizing about you, I was drowning in ice water.”

I risk a timid glance up, face still red. His impish grin does nothing to help my embarrassment.

“Okay…” I sit up and start to stand “…I think that’s enough.”

He grabs my waist, pulling me back to the sofa. “
But
…” he waits for me to look at him “…but then I felt guilty, like a complete asshole for ever letting you believe anything but the truth, because when it was over … when you had
finished …”

I shake my head and try to pull away again, but his firm hold prevents my escape. “Look at me.”

I feel more exposed than I have ever felt in my life.

“After the fact, I saw the pain in your face—the shame, the guilt, the agony of probably thinking
we
would never be. And a little part of me died in that moment.” He sets our bowls down on the table and kneels in front of me, nose to nose. “I’m sorry, Darby. I’m just so fucking sorry.”

I nod and he kisses me. My hands frame his stubbly face. “So you erased the video?”

His head jerks back. “No fucking way! It may be sad, but it’s still the hottest fucking porn I’ve ever seen.”

My hand makes its way to slap the shit out of him, but he intercepts and pins me to the back of the couch. “God I love your feistiness.” He attacks my neck. “And I can’t wait for you to touch yourself for me.”

I wriggle in his grasp. “
That
will
never
happen.”

He bites my nipple through my T-shirt. “Oh … mark my word … it’ll happen.”

*

The girl who
doesn’t trust men is marrying the boy who doesn’t trust women. What. Are. The. Chances?

There was no getting down on one knee and there was no ring, yet it was the most unexpected and beautiful proposal. I’m dying to tell someone. Jade is a possibility, but I know she’d never keep it to herself, and I’m not ready to tell the world. This is where that BFF since kindergarten that I never had would come in handy. Nana will find out as soon as I leave work, but it has to be in person; that’s why I can’t tell her yet.

I have to tell someone!

Me:
I need to tell my BFF something. Can you be my BFF and ONLY my BFF for a few moments?

Trick:
Yes, I can be your “friend” – what’s up?

Me:
Last night the man that gives my heart complete purpose asked me to marry him. It was breathtakingly unexpected and utterly insane … but I said yes anyway because he’s the dream that all other dreams dream of being. Do you think I’m crazy?

Trick:
Yes. But I think he’s one lucky bastard!

I text him back five heart and kiss Emojis—he doesn’t reply.

On the way to Nana’s it occurs to me that I have no idea how my father proposed to my mother. He, of course, has never talked about it and neither has Nana. I can imagine it being a big production in front of a lot of people, an expensive ring and scripted emotions. Maybe in another life I’ll be the girl who wants to marry someone just like her father, but it’s not this one.

“Hey, Nana it’s me, open up.”

The door buzzes and I bounce up the stairs with exuberance.

“Well, this is an unexpected surprise. I thought we were having lunch tomorrow.”

I hug her. “We are, but I have something to tell you and it can’t wait.”

She holds me at arm’s length, looking at me with narrowed eyes. “Rachel and your father are parting ways?”

“What? No! I mean, that would be some amazing news too, but no.”

She deflates a little and walks into her kitchen. “Wine?”

“No. I just need to say this, Nana!”

She grabs a wine glass and pours herself a generous serving of Merlot. “I’m all ears, dear.”

Warmth radiates through my body as my heart drums in my chest. “I’m getting married!”

Nana stops mid sip, swallows, and gasps. “What did you say?”

Internally, I laugh. I said those same words to Trick.

“I’m getting married. Trick proposed last night.”

“Oh, sweetie, that’s—” She hugs me.

“Crazy, insane, out of the blue, too soon, unexpected … I know, but I said yes anyway.”

“Wonderful … I was going to say wonderful.” She kisses my cheek and gestures for me to sit next to her at the table. “I assume you haven’t told your father? Or did Trick ask for his
blessing
.”

I snort. “No, I haven’t told anyone but you. And Trick’s still alive, so it’s safe to assume he didn’t’ ask for my father’s blessing.”

“So when are you going to tell him?”

I shrug. “I don’t know … never.”

“I hope you both have current passports because when he finds out you’re going to have to flee the country.” She wiggles her eyebrows while sipping her wine, then swallows, followed by a dreamy sigh. “But forbidden love is so romantic.”

“You make it sound so tragic.”

She grabs my left hand. “Where’s the ring?”

“He didn’t give me one. Honestly, I don’t think he planned it. It was as if in that exact moment he decided he wanted to marry me. I love that he didn’t even have to think about it; he just … knew. And I did too.”

Nana’s smile spread across her petite facial features. I’ve been waiting all day with impatient anticipation to share this with her and this is why—she’s genuinely happy for me.

“So when’s the big day going to be?”

I drum my fingers on the table. “I don’t know. I mean, one minute he’s proposing and the next we’re walking to the grocery store like any other ordinary day. We haven’t really talked about it. I don’t know if he’s thinking a month from now or a year. But it doesn’t matter. I just want to be with him. Hell, I’d go down to the Justice of Peace and marry him tomorrow.”