Accidentally on Purpose 6 Book Box Set

by L. D. Davis

  Emmet had the trashcan and was swiping cereal off of the table into it.

  “Rosa was hungry,” Owen said conversationally.

  “Mam?” Rosa said, looking at me.

  “Rosa,” I said, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes. I started to sweep the cereal into piles with my hand.

  “Wowo imme eerial.”

  I sighed and looked at the mess. “I see that.”

  “Owen, next time wake us up, okay? You could have hurt yourself getting the cereal down,” Emmet said distractedly as he cleaned up.

  “Okay, Dad.”

  “Dad?” Rosa said.

  And Emmet…bless his absent-minded soul…Emmet said, “What,” as he used paper towels to soak up the milk.

  Rosa repeated what she had told me about the cereal and Emmet nodded and said, “Yes, baby girl.”

  I stood there in shock, staring at him as he absently cleaned up the mess. He realized I was staring at him and looked at me with his brow furrowed.

  “What?”

  “Nothing,” I said quickly and went back to helping him clean up.

  “It’s not nothing,” he said.

  “I need to get the broom. Do I have a broom?” I asked no one and hurried from the room to search for a broom.

  After the cereal was all cleaned up and the kids were cleaned up, Emmet asked me if I wanted breakfast as he opened the fridge.

  “I made my sister breakfast,” Owen said as he and Rosa colored at the table.

  This time, I didn’t allow my shock to show. I busied myself washing their cereal bowls and spoons, but I knew Emmet was frozen at the fridge behind me.

  “I could go for some eggs and bacon,” I said casually. I looked at the clock on the stove and thought better of it. “Actually, I have to go soon.”

  “Go where?”

  “Remember? I told you I have a meeting with a few people about my business idea?”

  “The business idea you still haven’t told me about,” he said sourly. “On a Saturday though?”

  “Yes, on a Saturday,” I said and turned around to face him. “I can take Rosa to Emmy’s if you have something you have to do or somewhere to go.”

  “She can stay here with us,” Emmet said, looking at me with uncertainty.

  “Why are you looking at me like that?” I asked in a voice higher than I meant it to be. It had been a long morning already and I just woke up. I woke up in Emmet’s arms and then Rosa called him Dad and then Owen called Rosa his sister. It was too damn much for one morning.

  “Because you’re behaving strangely and you are pretending you didn’t just hear that.”

  I laughed. “Yeah I heard that and something else, too, but you were too distracted to hear it.”

  His eyes narrowed in confusion. “Hear what?”

  “It doesn’t matter,” I said, waving a hand. “I have to shower and get ready to go.”

  I started to leave the room, but Emmet caught up to me and put a strong arm around my waist and pulled my back against his front. It was the closest contact we’d had while conscious since the night of Emmy’s wedding.

  “What didn’t I hear? And what is this business meeting about?” His lips moved against my ear as he spoke in a low, sexy, dangerous voice. I stifled a moan, because it would have been all kinds of obscene in front of the children.

  “Dad?” Rosa said again. I felt Emmet stiffen. When he didn’t answer, Rosa said it again. “Dad?”

  “Dad, Rosa is calling you,” Owen said, sounding annoyed that his father hadn’t answered his ‘sister.'

  Emmet released me and together we turned to look at Rosa.

  “Rosa…” Emmet said her name carefully.

  She pointed to the picture she was coloring and giggled as if she had just shown him something hilarious.

  “Yes, that’s funny,” he said to her and offered her a big smile. Then he turned to me without the smile.

  “Hey, don’t look at me,” I said, holding my hands up and backing up. “Why don’t you ask her ‘brother’ about that?”

  I turned and hurried from the room. I ran up the stairs—two at a time—went into my room, closed the door, and asked the room “What the fuck is happening here!”

  No one answered.

  Chapter Fifty-Eight

  It was late in the afternoon when I got home. When I opened the door, a savory smell wafted into the foyer and made my stomach growl with anticipation. I opened the hall closet and hung up the garment bags I came in with and then walked down the hall and into the kitchen. Rosa and Owen were sitting at the table again, coloring, just as they had been when I left hours before. Emmet was at the stove stirring something in a pot. How domesticated my life suddenly was.

  Emmet looked very comfortable in my kitchen. Honestly, he looked like he belonged in my house. He didn’t look like he should leave it any more than I should.

  I had been thinking about him all day, even when I should have been focused on business. I thought about our late night skate, how exhilarating it was, and how much I felt like the young girl that Emmet kissed while she was standing on her skateboard. I thought about our shopping excursions while trying to find furniture for the house. I chose nothing without his input, so when I saw him sitting at the table or lounging on the couch or even in my bed, it looked like he was at home. I thought about all of the items he had in that box under his bed and the painting that was now hanging in my bedroom, and of course, I thought about his relationship with Rosa.

  “Even though she isn’t mine, she is a part of you, and I know I’ll love her.”

  He loved her as if she had been his all along, and maybe she had. If I had been his all along, wouldn’t any extension of me also be his?

  I thought about that night of Jorge’s party when Emmet had been kneeled down in front of me with his hand on my cheek while my hand was in his hair. I thought about that first kiss in the empty parking lot where we used to board, and that morning in his bed after the night we fought in the rain. I thought about our breakup on the boardwalk and our subsequent reconciliation in Louisiana, and the heartless words I uttered at the end of that summer that separated us for several months.

  I remembered how his hands felt on me the night of Felix’s party when he refused to leave my side. I could hear our bodies moving together and our moans and smell the arousal during our first time making love. I never forgot how when I needed Emmet the most, he had flown all the way across the country to be with me. I could feel the dirt and grass pressed against my back at our pond after he proposed and I joyfully accepted.

  Other memories flooded my mind—our time split between New York and Cambridge, the big fight we had when I accepted a job in Paris instead of going away on vacation with Emmet and the makeup in Felix’s French penthouse with the perfect view of the Eiffel Tower. The heart-shattering breakup that I thought had been for Emmet’s own good when, in hindsight, it was out of selfishness on my part. The New Year’s love making with the crowd celebrating below us. Our big fight the night he met Jerry, and the horrible scene at our pond a year later.

  So many memories. So much wasted time. I was tired of wasting time. I was tired of being without the only person I ever truly wanted, the only person in the world that I couldn’t get away from no matter how far I went, because we were bound together by a force bigger than us.

  “Hey,” Emmet snapped his fingers in my face, shaking me out of my deep reverie. “You okay?”

  “Yes,” I said, shaking my head lightly.

  He looked at me skeptically. “What’s going on in your head?”

  “A lot,” I said truthfully.

  “Okay,” he said. He looked at me for a moment and then went back to the stove.

  After dinner, Casey came to pick up Owen. Rosa cried for ten minutes after he left and it was Emmet who finally soothed her and made her smile again. She was still calling him Dad, and neither of us did anything to stop her. Every time the word left her lips, I sensed his heart swell and cry out at the sam
e time. He was conflicted, because he really, truly loved her like a daughter, but he wasn’t in a position to make it official.

  Once she was asleep for the night, Emmet and I settled on the couch in the family room and he again asked me about my business meeting.

  “Oh, it’s best if I show you,” I said and got to my feet.

  “Show me what?”

  “You’ll see,” I said over my shoulder as I walked out of the room and down the hall. I took out one of the garment bags and went back to the family room. “Can you stand up and hold this while I unzip?”

  He gave me a questioning look but got up and held the hanger at the top of the bag while I unzipped it. I carefully removed the bag and then took the hanger from him. I held it up to my body and nervously and quietly said, “Ta-da.”

  Emmet looked over the long black strapless gown with the pink silk sash just below the bust line, and the small glimpse of the pink petticoat underneath the full skirt. Wrapped neatly around the hanger was a long, thin decorative scarf in the same pink color as the sash, to be wrapped neatly around the neck and to hang down the open back of the dress.

  “You’re going back into modeling?” Emmet asked, frowning.

  “Not exactly…” I said slowly. “I designed this dress.”

  His eyes widened and his mouth dropped open. “You did?”

  “Don’t look so surprised,” I said, frowning.

  “No,” he said holding up a hand and looking apologetic. “Baby, that’s not what I mean. I’m never surprised by your many talents. I just can’t believe that I didn’t know that you had an interest in design.”

  The stupid half smile that appeared on my face was because he called me baby.

  “I started sketching out designs years ago,” I said softly. “It was something of a stress reliever at first, but over the years I started doing it more seriously. I still didn’t think much of it until more recently.”

  “I’m really proud and happy for you,” Emmet said sincerely, but I could see the ‘but’ on his face. “But won’t you have to do a lot of traveling? Maybe not as much as you did as a model, but you will have to travel often, right?”

  He looked disappointed by the idea of me having to go anywhere.

  “Well, I will have to do some traveling for what I am going to do, yes—at least at first,” I said and gestured for the garment bag. As we began to carefully recover the dress, I continued telling him my plans. “I am going to open a boutique in the heart of Chicago,” I said. “Later, I hope to expand to New York, L.A. and maybe a couple of other places, but we are starting here in Chicago.”

  “We?” Emmet asked as he zipped up the bag.

  “Felix is going into business with me,” I said triumphantly.

  He raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms. “Felix is a designer now, too?”

  “No, not exactly,” I said. Emmet followed me as I walked back down the hall to put the dress away. “Felix is more or less going to be a public figure. He’ll handle most of the public relations end of the business, and for every movie premiere or award show or talk show—anywhere that he is scheduled to be in public, he will wear the brand, and so will I.”

  After I had closed the closet door, Emmet asked me, “So, how much traveling will you be doing? How often will you be away?”

  “Maybe three times a year, four at the most,” I answered and then quietly added “Nothing like before.”

  He studied my face for a moment and then nodded.

  “I’m proud of you,” he said softly. “I know everything will work out well for you.”

  “I hope that applies to more than just business,” I whispered.

  I was standing against the closed closet door and he was standing only a foot away from me. We stared at each other, and I waited for him to step towards me, to put his hand on my hip and maybe one on my cheek. I bit my bottom lip as I looked at his lips and tried to recall the taste of his mouth and my mouth began to water when my taste buds remembered.

  “I better go,” he said hoarsely, to my surprise, and took a step back from me.

  “Oh,” I said, disappointed, and followed him down the hall and into the kitchen. Since my back yard was right up against Emmy’s, Luke cut an opening in the privacy fence that separated the properties for easy access between our homes. It made more sense than walking around the block.

  Emmet opened the sliding glass door that led to my deck and stepped out into the cool spring night. It had begun to rain since I arrived home. It came down steadily, but at the moment Emmet was protected by the awning that covered a large portion of the deck.

  “Thank you for taking care of Rosa,” I said. “Thank you for everything.”

  I couldn’t believe he was just going to leave. Couldn’t he feel what I felt? Didn’t he know I wanted him to stay?

  “Don’t thank me for that,” he said, shaking his head and looking at me sternly. “I love her. I’ll always take care of her,” he paused and hesitantly added, “And you.”

  “I’ll take care of you. Always,” he’d said when we were just kids.

  “Goodnight, Donya,” Emmet said, but didn’t move.

  I reached out and wrapped my arms around his torso for an embrace. I needed to feel his body against mine, if even only for a moment.

  Reluctantly, his arms caged me against him. I could feel his heart beating against my chest and I wanted to put my hand there, but I was afraid and I don’t know why. Emmet turned his head slightly and his nose grazed across my jugular, making me sigh and tilt my head more to allow him easier access. When I felt his lips gently press against the racing pulse, I had the strong desire to pull his head closer and demand he kiss me there, but I resisted. Why was I so scared?

  Suddenly, Emmet pulled away from me and took several steps back until he was standing in the rain. His chest heaved and he stared at me with darkened eyes.

  “Goodnight, Donya,” he said again. He turned away, jogged down the steps and hurried his way across the two yards.

  I stood in the open door, watching him go, feeling him go, feeling that tether stretch uncomfortably. Why did I let him go? Why do I always let him go? My life was incomplete without him and I always let him go.

  I watched as he slid open Emmy’s sliding door and stepped inside. He turned around slowly and looked back at me. I knew he was looking at me, because I could feel it. I could feel him, the conflict within him, the fear, the lust, the love, the want, the need, and more fear. It was everything I was feeling, too.

  “Come back,” I whispered. “Come back. Come back. Come back.” I chanted the words over and over as we watched each other, in the dark, through the rain and across the span of the two yards.

  When Emmet turned away, my body slumped and the pressure in my chest climbed up into my throat until I was trying to swallow around a large lump.

  “I will not cry,” I whispered breathlessly, as I went back inside and closed and locked the door and drew the blinds.

  I started turning out lights as I slowly made my way through the house. I planned on crawling into my bed and resting my head on the pillow Emmet had used so that I could inhale him all night.

  A terrifying thought struck me as I stood in the hallway near the stairs. What if Emmet didn’t react to me because he could no longer feel me? What if the tether was deadened on his end? What if I had denied him one time too many and it irrevocably damaged the cord that bound us together?

  Worse yet, what if we were no longer bound together? What if everything I thought I felt for him was all in my head, an illusion my mind created to mirror my own emotions?

  I turned around and faced the dark kitchen and the dark glass behind the closed blinds that led into the dark night.

  “Come back,” I said with panic rising inside of me. “Come back. Come back. Come back. Come back.”

  If he didn’t come, I would know. I would know that I ruined us and we were irretrievable.

  After what felt like several minutes of chanting for
Emmet to come back, I stopped suddenly when I knew he wasn’t coming. I didn’t trust myself to try to feel him out because I was becoming more and more convinced that he couldn’t feel me at all and vice versa.

  I sunk to my knees and buried my face in my hands as an onslaught of tears poured from my eyes. It hurt so fucking much, more than any other pain I’d ever experienced with Emmet. I didn’t know how I was going to live through this one. I didn’t think I’d ever really recover and I would become my mother, sad, depressed, broken, and a shell of someone I couldn’t even remember and completely unable to take care of my child. History would repeat itself. Emmy and Luke would care for Rosa like their own. Owen would treat her like a sister until they were older and he’d fall in love with her, and if she followed in my footsteps and her grandmother’s footsteps, she would eventually lose him, too. Forever.

  “Get up,” I whispered vehemently to myself. “You are not going to sit here and die. Get up.” I rose to my feet. I looked at the sliding door as if I could see through it, the rain, the night, and Emmy’s walls and find Emmet wherever he was.

  I refused to become my mother. I refused to give Rosa that kind of life.

  I am Donya Elisabeth Stewart, also known as Sensible Donya and Donya Sex Goddess & Lover. I am a successful supermodel, actress, and soon to be entrepreneur and I will be a super success at that, too. I am Rosa’s mother, Emmy’s sister and best friend, and daughter to Fred and Samantha Grayne. I am Emmet Grayne’s destiny and he his mine. Destiny is inescapable.

  “You can’t escape,” I said aloud.

  I marched through the kitchen to the sliding door. I wouldn’t leave my own yard with Rosa sleeping in the house behind me, but if I had to stand at that fence and shout Emmet’s name all night I would. The second I got my hands on him, I would drag him back at any costs. If I had to hit him in the head with a shovel and tie his unconscious body to the bed, I would.

  I turned the back yard light on and boldly marched outside into the steady rain and down the deck steps. I glanced to my right where a shovel leaned up against the deck, left there by the previous owners. On a whim, I grabbed it and started across the yard. I was half way to the opening in the fence when I felt him. Instantly I knew that the line was never broken, and thought about how stupid I was to believe that it was. It was unbreakable.