Authors: S Jackson Rivera
He caught her staring at his hands and hid them under the table.
“Anyway, he finally admitted that he gave my brand new boat to another customer who’d purchased
The Tow’d
, but brought it back because of all the problems. They gave it a tune-up, and a onceover, then shipped it down to me, thinking I’d never notice. He swears he didn’t know it was as bad as it is.
“Long story short, he’s sending a new boat down, should be here sometime next month.” Paul perked up. “He even told me not to worry about sending
The Tow’d
back. I thought we could scuttle it, and make a new dive site. We could call it,
The Lying Ton of a Bitch
.”
“Is it possible,” she said, thinking about his battered hands, and not ready to celebrate just yet, “that
someone
might wind up in jail over this?”
“Baby, no one will go to jail over scuttling a piece of shit boat.”
“I’ll have to trust your judgment.” She smirked. “But I have a feeling you won’t be able to step foot in Texas again, and I promise, I won’t be getting anywhere near that place without you.” She watched to see what he’d do with the ball she’d thrown in his court.
“I’ll never bring up Keene or his facility again. If you don’t feel you need his help, then I’ll have to trust
your
judgment.”
Paul almost made her cry. She held it in, but she knew her eyes glistened.
“So, if you
are
pregnant,” he said, to change the subject for her. “Do you want to keep it?” He’d brought his hands above the table again, revealing his apprehension.
“I could never do that!” She sounded panicked, like she thought she was in for a fight.
“Me neither,” he said, grabbing her hand across the table to try and convince her. “I’m glad.”
“So will you throw up again?”
“That was just sympathy vomit.” He chuckled, but then the embarrassment about the truth was too much, and he had to drop his head. “Even though I never saw myself getting married, I still had this vague picture of myself having kids.”
“How, in your picture, did you figure that would happen?”
He raised a brow and was about to tease her about being too naïve to know the answer to that, until the truth hit again, and he frowned.
“You know, you should probably prepare yourself.” His frown had turned into a full scowl. “Given my history, there’s always the possibility that some woman from my past could turn up, claiming that I’m the father of her child.”
She thought about that for a minute, her expression unreadable.
“I wouldn’t care,” she finally said. “But after getting to know Ronnie, and learning there are girls like her out there, I’d recommend a paternity test.”
“I didn’t think you’d care, not for one second.” He closed his eyes and shook his head. “A paternity test would be a good idea, just in case. Although that, and the fact you often refuse to see me for the way I really am, makes me worry you wouldn’t really believe I could be guilty. You have to understand, God wasn’t the only one spreading his seeds around back then.”
“I can’t believe you said that.” She giggled. “Kind of takes away from your whole romantic analogy speech.”
“Aw, come on, are you really that surprised? That I’d say something like that, or that I didn’t even realize my story was romantic?”
She smiled, knowingly, and he couldn’t believe the love that radiated from such a simple expression. He still didn’t understand why, but she really did love him. He’d been thinking again, and he’d found a major flaw in his seed theory.
He’d internalized the fact that Rhees had done fine without him. Remodeling his apartment, making it
her
home, getting the shop up and running again after he’d trashed it, the fact that she’d delivered the fatal shot to the hijacker—she’d saved his life when he’d been sure it was over.
Thinking back to what she’d done under the deck not long ago—he’d tried, unsuccessfully, on multiple occasions, to get her to try and hurt him during his self-defense lessons, but today, she’d had no reservations about groining him. If it weren’t for her being a lousy swimmer, she’d have gotten away.
Yeah, he realized his revelation was defective, and he didn’t understand how he’d misread the signs. It had all seemed so clear before. He needed her, like the tank on his back when he dived, she was his air, but Rhees had grown up. She didn’t need him anymore.
That sobering thought blew his theory about balancing each other out, and he couldn’t bring himself to believe the only other explanation. There was no way God had orchestrated everything on
his
behalf—Paul didn’t deserve that much attention or care.
He said a prayer in his heart, asking God for an explanation, why he’d been given such a strong glimmer of hope, short-lived as it was, and then he asked for forgiveness, because he hadn’t changed, and never would. He planned to keep Rhees, even though he knew he’d been wrong about her needing him.
“Okay. So, if you’re not pregnant, this time,” he said before he teared up, “do you want to try again, or would you like to wait a while before starting a family?
“I mean, I would like to wait a year or two. I’m a selfish man,” he winced, trying to ignore the battle against his conscience, “and it would be nice to have you all to myself for a little while, but I’m good if you want kids right away. Do you know how many you want?”
She stared at him for a second and he watched her slowly melt into a crying mess. Paul jumped up from his side of the table and pulled her up into his arms.
“Hey! What did I say? Don’t cry. Whatever I said, I didn’t mean it. I—” He was sure she’d figured him out, his secret. He pulled back, trying to see her face, but she’d burrowed into his shoulder.
“You just took me by surprise,” she sniffled. “Or I took myself by surprise, or . . . I don’t know. You’re talking about our future,
years
—
together
.”
“Of course, how could you think—you’re my bride.” He cradled her face between his hands. “You and I are forever.”
He’d do whatever it took to make it so, even if it was wrong.
“I think, deep down, I always thought this was temporary, that I was just going to ride the ride until it was over, until you get tired of me. But you’re planning our future kids—”
He planted a kiss on her lips that took her breath away.
“You were saying?” He’d turned on the Kaa eyes.
“Two,” she huffed out.
“Two?” His lips hitched up on one side. He knew exactly what he was doing, the astard-ba.
“I’d like two, to start with.” She’d lost all power to look away. She tried to recite her well-thought-out plan about children, hoping she made sense. “And then maybe we can just examine how it’s going after that.”
“So you do want to get started right away.” He dialed up the power and her mind went blank.
“Uh—I want to get—uh, started . . . right away,” she finally managed. She watched his tongue dart out and wet his lips. “Maybe I should start birth control.”
“But you just said you’d like to get started on a baby.” He drew his hands up and down her nearly bare back, at an agonizingly sensual pace, but she felt the stay of execution he’d granted her when he dropped the intensity of his panty melting smile a few notches.
“Practice—I’d like to wait—if I’m not pregnant already.” She reached up on her toes to give him a kiss, knowing she could never pull off the mind-blowing exploitation he’d just subjected her to. “I want to practice making babies for a year or two, too—you know, since I’m so new to this.”
Paul closed his eyes. He’d put aside his guilt with God, tucked it away like he’d been doing for years, and concentrated on making Rhees stop crying. He hadn’t considered how it would affect him when he turned his honed powers of seduction on her. She’d stopped crying, his original goal, and that was good. She’d responded, pressing herself against him, baring her desire for him—damned good. She’d nearly stopped breathing, also good, and his pride swelled to mammoth proportions, but the experiment left him aching, because
He
ached, but more than anything, he couldn’t turn off the ache in his heart. He had no control over how much she made him feel—not just in his groin. He had no control over the ache in his heart, the ache he’d only ever felt with her, because of her.
The worst part of it all, was knowing how it wasn’t the first time she’d made him feel this way; that horrible, emotional, heart-wrenching feeling associated with the desire to relieve that need in his groin. He wasn’t used to feeling so much, anywhere but where
He
dictated. Paul felt like his friend had let him down, or more likely, Paul had let him down. Love did suck. Paul laughed at the thought.
“What’s wrong?” Rhees asked warily.
Paul looked like he’d been caught; the proverbial cat that ate the canary look.
“Nothing.”
“Liar.”
He sighed.
“Okay. I was thinking about how ready I am to make love to you, the way I’ve fantasized about.”
“I’m game.”
“Okay, that’s great, but . . . I want it to be in a bed. We need to call Fahtima and order a new mattress.”
“Paul?”
“Yeah?”
“My family helped me redecorate. We painted, we moved stuff around—”
“The Williams family helped you.” He looked like he’d just figured out a riddle. “Where’d all my stuff go? My surfboards, my kitesurfing kit, my parasailing—”
“Everything’s in The Room That Had No Purpose, that became my closet for a few days, but is now Paul’s Sporting Goods Store—Room.” She giggled at her play on words.
He headed toward the door of the room, acting nervous. He gave her one wary look before he opened the door and looked inside. He exhaled the most relieved breath she’d ever heard.
“I was so worried. I was okay with it, if you really felt the need to get rid of it, but it broke my heart, just a little, to think it could all be gone.”
She attacked him with an unexpected hug, making him lose his balance.
“About the mattress—”
“Done.”
“Done?” he asked, skeptically.
“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you. The Williams family had a party, for me. We painted, moved things around—we took your old mattress to Oceanside and convinced the new tenants to trade.”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah,” she giggled.
“Seriously?” It almost sounded like a sob.
She threw her arms around his neck, worried she’d hurt his feelings.
“I’m sorry if I overstepped—” She couldn’t finish because he’d swept her up and rooted his lips against hers.
“Thank God for small miracles; and big ones too.” Paul’s breath hitched when he realized what he’d said. He wished it was true with all his heart—that God really had forgiven him—that he really had said it was okay to love Rhees. “I need to get you home, now. Home is where
our
mattress is!”
“Okay,” she said, breathlessly.
Chapter 28
“A
w Danar—” he froze, right at his peak.
“It’s okay,” she panted, kissing his Adam’s apple. “From now on, you can call me anything you want.”
She still hadn’t caught her breath, coming down from her own.
“Aw Danarya,” he uttered worshipfully as he finished.
He hovered over her, and they both reached to wipe the tears from each other’s eyes at the same time. They smiled because . . . just because.
Paul slipped to his right, at Rhees’ side, careful not to detach just yet, after making the longest, sweetest love possible—the way he wished he had the first time. He gazed lovingly into his wife’s warm, honey brown eyes.
“I’m crying, I’m fu—freaking crying here,” he whispered.
“Me too.”
She looked more beautiful than ever in her endorphin-induced euphoria. He leaned in closer and kissed her, again.
“I love you, so much. It’s better, loving who you’re with.” He’d just barely figured that out, sober, with her. “Emotional, it’s so much
more
when there are so many feelings.”
“Yeah?” she asked. “I’ve only known it with the love.”
He leaned in for another kiss.
“You’re lucky, and I’m lucky to know you love me, and I hope you’ll love me forever, because I’ll always love you, forever.”
She smiled, and it seemed to brighten the whole room, otherwise lit with only a few candles.
“You sure we shouldn’t have used a condom? If I wasn’t pregnant before, I probably am now.”
“I didn’t want anything to
come
between us . . . except us.” He chuckled quietly.
“I love your smile. I don’t want to ever live without that smile,” she said.
He masked the sadness her words had caused him to feel, and again, brushed aside his guilt.
“You won’t have to. Believe me?”
She nodded.
“I promise.” He kissed her again. Paul and Rhees both groaned with disappointment when their connection was broken.
“It’s okay. We’ll spend the rest of our lives doing that over and over again.” He stole another kiss but then beamed, wickedly. “But don’t worry. I don’t think we’re done throwing in a few rounds of angry sex now and then, you know, since that seems to be your thing.”
“My thing?” She laughed. “I refuse to take
all
the blame.”
“Oh yeah?” He stuck his tongue in her ear.
“See?” She giggled. “You taunt me. You rile me all up, because you like it too.”
“Angry sex, with you, is
hawt!”
He kissed her, long and sweet before he rolled to the edge of the bed and sat up. He reached to his nightstand, grabbed two tissues, and handed them to her. He grabbed one more for himself, but froze.
He stared at the blood on
He,
transfixed. Logically he knew why it was there, but in his heart, he believed it meant something more, something not logical at all, but twice now—he’d been given two affirmations in the last few hours.
He trembled, trying to hold himself upright and not crumble to the floor. He thought that maybe he should so he could get on his knees. He finally accepted what had become impossible to deny. He didn’t understand why, but God had answered his prayer. He’d sanctioned Paul’s love for Rhees by giving him his do-over.
“Rhees, Baby?” His voice shook. “Do you believe in second chances?”
“Of course. Sometimes. Why?” Rhees sat up too. She slipped her arms around his waist from behind and smothered his back with kisses. She didn’t see the reason for his question.
“Oh, just thinking.” A warm, accepting smile broke on his face. He put one hand over hers as she held him, and wiped himself off with his other. “You’re not pregnant. You’re about to start your period.”
“Of course, you would know that before I do,
Mr. Menstrual-Cycle-Savant
.”
He twisted his head around so he could look at her, the smile still on his face. He pounced playfully, pushing her back down on the mattress, pinning her under him. The smile faded as he watched her carefully, adoringly. He had never felt so content in his life, so at peace.
“Paul?” She looked worried at his sudden calm. “Are you all right?”
“You bled on me.”
“Ew.” She looked embarrassed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”
He smiled again, a big, happy, peaceful smile.
“It’s okay, Dani Girl. It’s a very, very good thing.” He ran his tongue up her face from bottom to top, making her squeal. “It means it’s all right to keep you. I’m yours . . . and you’re mine! God said so.”