Road to Reality (10 page)

She knew Mac had come from money. She picked that much up easily enough. He was a doctor, after all. When he had mentioned he was from Burlington and his father was a doctor too, she did her own research and was taken back to find out how well known the elder Dr. Malone was. 

More research uncovered pictures of Mac’s childhood home, which had been featured in a local Vermont paper showcasing old historic homes in the area.  That kind of wealth was only seen on TV in Beth’s mind; it didn’t exist in her world.  She was happy when she had money left over for Zoe’s college fund each month once all her bills were paid. 

But the Mathews family was in a whole other league. She knew immediately who Ryan was. How could she not when there were TV commercials on him and his family’s firm all over the place?  It was understandable she hadn’t put two and two together when she was introduced to Brooke’s full name. Lucas wasn’t part of the family business, having chosen to go out on his own and work in the healthcare sector. 

Meeting Ryan reaffirmed all the doubts she’d had in the beginning. And those doubts came rushing back to the surface today. Even Brooke’s best friend was marrying a doctor, and Cori herself was a nurse.  Where did a hairdresser with a three-year-old fit into this picture?  And she told Mac as much.

“I repeat. That is nonsense,” he said. “No one is judging you here. No one cares what you do for a living.  We aren’t a bunch of snobs, you know.  Look around at everyone, do they look like snobs?”

Beth had to admit everyone was hanging out and wearing casual clothes. Most likely designer she’d bet, unlike her Old Navy clearance shorts. But no one was acting all high and mighty either.

Matter of fact they all seemed to accept her easily, the same with Zoe.  Even Brooke had asked her advice on a new hairstyle, and Cori had commented on Beth’s red nail polish with one navy-and-white striped nail, telling her it looked fun.

No one seemed to be judging her, yet she seemed to be judging everyone else.  Maybe she was wrong.

Though to be honest, there was one person who was giving her the evil eye now and again. Ryan’s date, Brenda, seemed to be looking down her nose at Beth. Not that Beth cared, because even Cori and Brooke were cracking jokes about the blonde-haired-boob-enhanced arm candy. 

“No, you’re right.  No one has been anything but nice to me today.  But I can’t help feeling out of place. Everywhere I turn it’s like a dream world to me.  I can’t explain it to you, and I don’t want Zoe to think this is normal. I can’t give her this.  I don’t want her to feel like she is less than anyone else, because she isn’t,” Beth said earnestly.

“You’re right, she isn’t. And neither are you.” He leaned in to kiss her softly, clearly not caring who could see them. 

***

No matter how much chocolate Zoe ate—thanks to Cori’s attempt at sneaking it—she still managed to fall asleep on Mac’s chest after the first few fireworks exploded in the sky.  It was hours past her bedtime and the day had been too eventful for her.  He gently placed her in the car seat he’d purchased for his BMW and then went back to get the rest of their things while Beth loaded Zoe’s beach toys in the trunk.

Brooke stopped him on the way back through. “I really like her, Mac. Don’t blow this.”

He squinted one eye at her. “You’re giving me dating advice?” Then he tugged her hair much like he did Zoe’s ponytail earlier.

“Yes, I am.” She smiled and reached up to give him a kiss on the cheek. 

He hugged her in return, picking her up off the ground like he always did. “Thanks, Brooke.”

“For what?” she asked curiously.

“For always being here when I need it the most.”

Her eyes filled almost immediately. “I could say the same.  I’ll always be here, Mac. Don’t you worry.  So will Lucas,” she said squeezing his hand in reassurance. 

He knew what she was referring to. He hadn’t lied when he told Beth no one at the party today was judging her. Unfortunately, he wouldn’t be able to say the same about his mother.

Between the two of them, they managed to get Zoe partially awake for a quick trip to the bathroom and exchange her little red, white and blue striped sundress for a princess nightgown. 

Lying in the middle of the big bed now, Zoe was sound asleep with her arms wrapped tightly around the new doll Mac had bought her days ago. The one she referred to as her new favorite dolly.

With both Zoe’s door and Mac’s shut for the night, the monitor showing a sleeping Zoe in the room down the hall, Mac felt all the tension the of the day wash away.  “Come here.” He pulled Beth close as he saw her shy smile in the moonlight glowing through glass doors leading to the balcony outside. Loud booms and bright colors continued to flash overhead in the sky. His plans of making his own fireworks tonight were starting now.

Hugging her close, he ran his hands up and down her back, trying to ease the nerves he knew she felt.  Once her body relaxed against his, he briefly squeezed her tight, then leaned back and placed a finger under her chin, lowering his mouth to hers.  No pressure, soft and simple.  Just a taste. 

When she moved her own arms and wrapped them around his waist, he shifted his mouth away, and dropped his forehead to hers. “I need to apologize ahead of time,” he whispered softly. “I’ve waited so long for this moment.  Today has been torture knowing what was going to come.  I had all I could do to keep my hands off you during Zoe’s nap earlier.”

He hadn’t wanted to attack her the minute she came in the door earlier, but it had been an effort.  She was wary, he knew. He wanted to give her time, but his time had run out. “I’m not going to be able to go as slowly as I want tonight. I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

He kissed her neck, her collarbone, her ear, his tongue coming out to taste and feel every part of her.  She moaned in her throat, shifting her head to give him better access. “You didn’t have to wait,” she said, letting out a breath.

Groaning now, all his good intentions felt wasted.  Rather than address her statement, he brought his hands to her hips, then moved them to the bottom of her navy and white striped shirt, lifting it up inch by inch. A slow tease revealing the treasures underneath, treasures he had been dreaming about for weeks. Gently, he pulled it over her head, causing her braid to land over her shoulder, the end touching one lace-covered breast. 

Leaning back further, he watched her body react, the slight rise and fall of her chest, the goosebumps forming on her arms, the dilation of her eyes. Reaching his hands behind her, he unhooked her bra, trailing his knuckles down her spine. Pushing the bra off her shoulders, he tossed her braid behind her back, not wanting anything to distract from her body. 

She was long and lean. Slender was a better word. Then, before his eyes, her nipples hardened without any encouragement from his hands.  Bringing his hands up her ribs and under her breasts, he covered her, loving how she had just the right amount. His thumbs brushed across the pink-colored tips, and her eyes fluttered closed.  Next came the humming in her throat, threatening to extinguish the control that he was holding onto by the barest of threads. 

“Open your eyes,” he whispered. “Watch me. Watch what I do to you. I want to please you. Let me know what you like.” Each word uttered slowly and softly, another caress of sorts.

He could see she was struggling to keep them open, but she did. She watched his hands as they glided down her ribs, over her flat stomach, to the top of her white shorts. He made fast work of unfastening them and moving his hands inside and over her hips.

No signs of her past pregnancy existed on her body. Perfection, she was like a work of art.

Lowering her shorts and cotton panties to the ground, he stepped back with a combination of admiration and shock. His eyes rose to hers. “Wow.” He could see the faint signs of a flush creeping up her chest and neck. 

“Full service spa and salon,” she told him in reference to the Brazilian Wax he was currently appreciating.

There went that thread he was holding onto at the sight of her standing before him, skin completely bare.

He threw the covers back on the bed, urging her to the center. Then in a series of quick moves, he discarded his own clothing, reached inside the bedside drawer for a condom and readied himself.

Joining her on the bed, his body covered hers. He kept his weight on his hands, then lowered his mouth to hers, giving her a scorching kiss meant to burn.

One hand moved down her body, testing her, making sure she was ready. She was, more than ready if the shaking of her body was any indication.  Shifting, clasping her hands in his, entwining their fingers together, he started to enter her warmth, going agonizingly slow. She was so tight, and he was straining with effort to not thrust in and feel her all at once.

The arching of her hips into him, the pushing into his hands, and the rising and falling of her chest with each breath as she gasped for air sapped him of everything he had.

He laid his forehead on hers, begging her. “Give me a second here. Just relax.”

“I can’t.” Her hips shifted upward harder, pulling him in more.  “Mac,” she breathed out.

“Oh God.” He groaned and pushed all the way in, then fought to hold her still until he could regain a measure of control back.  It didn’t seem to matter. In that one thrust she was convulsing around him, pulling him into darkness, clouding his brain, his mind and his soul.  Control be damned, his hips started moving faster and harder until at last the light returned to his body.

Giving her a tight squeeze, he took a deep breath, steadied himself and climbed out of bed. After taking care of the condom, he slid back in bed next to her warm body and tugged her close.  She had pulled on a tank top and her underwear while he was gone, he noticed with regret.

He held her, trying to get his emotions under control.  What was the point? He was lost and knew it, wasn’t even going to fight it.  He would fight for her. And he would fight for Zoe. But he wasn’t going to fight how he felt about them. 

It was fast, he realized. But it was there. The reality of it was—he wasn’t letting them go anywhere. Beth and Zoe were where they belonged.

When he looked down, she was fast asleep. The day’s activities wore on her as much as Zoe. 

Thoughts of Zoe had him turning his head his head to assure she was OK. There on the monitor she slept on her side, hands under her chin, just like her mother.  His girls, he thought with pride. They were both angels brought into his life for him to cherish.

***

The next morning Mac, always an early riser, opened his eyes to the bright sunlight coming up over the lake shining through the glass doors.  He stretched once, noticed Beth still sound asleep, then glanced at the monitor and saw Zoe starting to move around the bed, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

He got up quietly, pulled on a pair of athletic shorts and made his way out of the room.  He was opening the door when he heard Zoe ask, “Mommy?”

“No, sweetie.  Mommy’s sleeping,” he said softly.  “She’s still tired. Want to get up with me?”

“Yes,” she responded happily. “I need to go potty.”

“You bet,” he said, swinging her into his arms and walking swiftly for the bathroom outside of the room she was in.  He didn’t know how urgent it was and didn’t want to worry about any messes.

Potty break taken care of, the two of them made their way to the kitchen.

***

Beth rolled over in the unfamiliar surroundings and took a minute to get oriented. Mac’s room. 

Last night came back in a flood of hot memories.  She never knew it could be like that.  Hot flames licking at her soul, pushing and urging her on to the very end. Through it all, he’d been so sweet and considerate.  Not that she wanted him to be, but she appreciated it the same.  She just regretted she was done so fast.  But it had felt so good when he entered her—the tightness, and the fullness.  She wouldn’t have minded if he wanted to try again, only she fell asleep moments after he climbed back in bed.

Glancing over at the monitor, all she saw was an empty bed, causing her to jump up in a rush, not even taking notice that Mac wasn’t in the room with her.  Dashing down the hall confirmed her fears. Zoe was nowhere to be found.  With her pace quickening, she made it to the bottom of the stairs, then heard their voices and forced herself to relax.

“Ready yet?” Zoe asked.

“Not yet. A few more minutes, then we will go get Mommy,” he assured her.  “Let her sleep.”

“Mommy’s tired,” Zoe said.

“Yes, she is.”

Beth’s bare feet quietly padded their way on the cool wood floors as she peeked around the corner and saw Zoe sitting in a booster seat at the recently purchased table in the breakfast nook, happily coloring in a new book that Beth hadn’t seen before. 

Mac was standing with his back to her looking decidedly at home while he cooked breakfast. She hadn’t gotten nearly a good enough look at his body last night.  Forcing her jaw shut, she hoped she wasn’t drooling right now. It seemed like that was all she did around him.

Broad toned shoulders, a strong back tapering into a lean waist showcased by the low hung athletic shorts—all that he was sporting. Defined legs—she knew he ran several times a week—all the way down to his long bare feet.  Yes, Mitchell was right, there was a correlation.

“Mommy,” Zoe cried.

“Not yet, Zoe,” Mac reminded her. Then he turned to see Beth standing there.

Wow, the front looked even better than the back.  That lean waist of his showed some clearly defined abs, not to mention as broad a chest.  She was pretty sure she was drooling now and fought not to wipe a hand in front of her mouth to check. “You can cook?” she asked, hoping to draw her attention from his body.

“Not as good as you,” he said. “But I can mix some milk and eggs into a boxed batter. Sorry, it’s not completely homemade.”

“That still works.”

“And the machine does the rest of the work,” he said when the beeping sounded. Their first batch of waffles were done. He deftly removed the first two large waffles and set them on a plate.  “I’ve got it,” he told her when she walked over to prepare Zoe’s plate.

“You’ve done enough. The least I can do is get her plate ready.”

“Eat, eat, eat. Waffles are yummy,” Zoe said.

“See,” Beth said. “You finish cooking, I’ll serve her.”

Within moments Zoe was eating her waffle with one of the new toddler utensils Beth found in his drawer. Meanwhile Mac added another two waffles to a plate and then poured the remaining batter into the machine to cook.  He grabbed her hand when she came close, and pulled her in for a quick hug and kiss. “Morning,” he said, his lips nibbling around her neck and throat.

A glance at Zoe showed she had no interest in the two of them standing in the kitchen.  She had happily picked up a slice of strawberry in one hand. Then while holding her fork containing a piece of waffle on the other, she looked back and forth at them. Almost like she was trying to figure out which piece to eat next.

“Morning to you, too,” Beth said right back. She found she was bold, running her hands up his chest, feeling his body flex and twitch under her touch.  “I didn’t get to see much of this last night, let alone touch,” she whispered.

“Feel free to touch anytime you want,” he whispered back.

He made an attempt to grab her hips and pull her closer when the beep on the waffle machine sounded, causing Zoe to announce, “More waffles.”

They jumped back like guilty teenagers and then laughed at how silly the situation was.  Plates filled, they sat down to eat with Zoe.

“I’ll clean up,” Beth said, standing up after finishing her one waffle, a few strawberries, and a lone cup of coffee. 

“No, I cooked, I clean,” he shot back at her. The same words she had said to him on numerous occasions when he tried to help her clean up at her apartment. 

“Why don’t you go take a bath?” he suggested. She guessed he hadn’t missed her longing glimpse at his tub yesterday. 

“Bath time,” Zoe said, always seeming to pick up on the key words in a conversation.  “Bubbles, Mommy. You need bubbles.”

“Guess Zoe thinks you should take a bath, too.  Go on.” He gently pushed her out of the kitchen. “Relax. Store your energy up for later.” He winkled at her.  “Oh, and you will find bubbles in the bathroom closet outside of Zoe’s room.”

Feeling outnumbered and really wanting a long soak in the tub, she didn’t need any more encouragement.  And bubbles sounded wonderful at the moment.

Opening the closet door a minute later, she found the bubbles exactly where he said. Amused, she saw soap crayons and a few rubber ducks next to the bright pink bottle of bubbles displaying a princess on the front.

***

Beth was stepping out of the shower when Mac walked into the bathroom.  Quickly grabbing the large fluffy towel from the rack, she held it in front of her body, shielding her nakedness. “What’s wrong?” she asked him.

“Nothing,” he said grinning at her attempt of modesty. “I was checking on you.”