by Tara Brown
But here we are.
She’s homeless. Broke. And desperate to fix her situation instead of being a burden to me. If she only knew how badly I want her to stay forever. She could never be a burden. I already see her as my “we.”
I turn to go inside but stop.
Movement inside catches my eye. It’s Jenny walking across the living room to the kitchen. She’s wearing my tee shirt and nothing else and her hair is everywhere.
She’s got a troubled look on her face as if she’s deep in thought.
Seeing her like this, watching her while she’s unaware is like seeing a deer in your garden. I stay still, trying not to spook her and smiling like a goof. Her being here soothes the stressful anxiety this whole thing is giving me.
Instead of calling out to me, she stands motionless. It’s odd to see her seem so vulnerable as she lingers there as if on the precipice of a massive decision. I’ve never related so hard to a single person in a moment like this. I feel as if my entire life’s happiness depends on the outcome of these quiet moments of deep thought.
A horn honks loudly below and she turns, smiling when she sees me watching her. “Hey, I was wondering where you were. Sorry I passed out. I can’t believe I slept for five hours.” She walks over to me, lowering her eyes and shaking her head. “I didn’t sleep last night at all. After you left—” She’s hesitant but comes all the way to me and slides her arms around my waist and rests her head on my chest.
A soft sigh escapes my lips when the scent of cherries and her hits me, springing me to action as I wrap around her, holding so tight I’m expecting her to protest. But she doesn’t.
“I’m so sorry, Lori,” she whispers. “I swear, I’m not normally so emotional and erratic.” She laughs weakly. “I was cool like three months ago. Totally cool.”
Without saying anything, I lean back and lift her chin, kissing her soft lips, stepping outside of time and reality. Nothing matters in this moment that we freeze.
But the kiss doesn’t end and the touching becomes more. I lift her, carrying her to the stone table on the veranda and placing her there as I slide between her legs. Her skin is soft and supple, warm against mine.
She wraps her legs around me and holds me to her as her hands glide up behind my head and pulling me down on her more.
It’s desperate the way her fingers cling to me and my mouth can’t satisfy the need it has to taste and touch every inch of her.
She undoes my pants, freeing me from my boxers, and moves impatiently, dragging me with her legs until my cock is resting against her. I hurry with the condom from my pocket, desperate to be inside her.
We’re still kissing when she guides me in, the heat of her making me pause kissing with a sharp inhale. But she isn’t interested in pausing. She’s writhing against me, forcing me to move until I take over.
Soft moans escape her lips as she leans back, her hair spilled out across the stone table and her lips permanently parted in pleasure as I thrust into her. My fingers’ grip on her body tightens as she arches her back, forcing me to hit a specific spot inside her. The soft moaning becomes loud cries of pleasure as she tenses and convulses.
Seeing her cheeks flush and her reaction on her face to the pleasure rocking her, sends me over the edge. I want to change positions and slow down but I can’t. I’m too far and she’s too addictive. It takes mere seconds for me to finish, pumping mercilessly into her as I do.
We end in a heap of breath and sweat. Her legs are still around my waist, pinning me there.
“Shower?” I ask as I remove the condom and my pants.
“Okay.” She nods.
I stand as she sits up, and help her off the table. She’s glowing the way she does right after sex. I slide my fingers into hers and pull her to the bathroom.
There’s an unsettling quiet, the post-sex playfulness isn’t there. When we step into the steamy water, I try not to hog it all but she’s so small compared to me, even as tall as she is.
Her stare finds its way to mine. Her eyes widen like she might say something but she doesn’t. She forces a polite smile.
“What?” I ask.
“Nothing.” She giggles as I bury my face in her neck, inhaling her as the water pours over my back. “You’re hogging the water.” She slithers from my arms and forces me to the waterless side of the shower. Which is fine, I like watching it cascade down her naked body.
It takes twice as long to shower and get clean since I can’t stop touching her, but there’s a moment in there, when she’s laughing at something I said and I’m smiling because it’s real. She’s being herself again.
This is it.
She is it.
11
Billionaires and babies
Thursday, July 27
Jenny
“So you’re going to the wedding?” Claire whispers into the phone, which is funny because she’s at work and I’m the one whispering and hiding in the powder room, pretending to go to the bathroom.
“Yeah. We’re leaving in like an hour.”
“I can’t believe Sami-fucking-Ford came to the airport and stopped you from leaving. I also can’t believe you’re pregnant with Lawrence Eckelston’s baby. How is any of this real? You need to sell this story and get rich.”
“Oh my God.” I scoff.
“Girl, this is the craziest thing I’ve ever heard.”
“I know.” I take a deep breath. “I just hope I’m not a complete idiot for staying.”
“Leaving would be the stupid choice. If you leave, I’m with your brother. I’ll rat your ass out so fast you won’t even make it to the airport before Lawrence comes and gets you.” She cackles into the phone.
“Wow. Thanks. Loving the support.”
“Jenny, you dated Ben for three years. The relationship went nowhere. Not a single place. Maybe because he never stopped dating but also because he wasn’t the right person for you. I genuinely think he was intimidated by you. Maybe you and Lawrence are like Yvonne and André. Remember how they met and it was crazy fast and we all were like what?”
“Yeah, that’s not a compliment. They were dating for like two months when they moved in together. Then they were engaged in no time. Who does that?”
“You and Lawrence. You’re on the same timeline. And you know what? Yvonne is our only friend who I think will make it in her marriage. So it is a compliment. And you don’t remember how much you bitched about Ben going so slow and how he didn’t want to move in together or bring the relationship to the next level.”
“Right.” I recall that quite well.
“Well, you don’t get to complain now that it’s reversed and moving too quickly with Lawrence and he’s being too awesome. Stop being a cockblocker of happiness,” Claire offers up some tough love.
“Okay, wow.” I sigh, taking a second to let it all sink in. “That hurt but I think I needed it.”
“Well, how did it feel choosing Vancouver over him?”
“Horrible,” I admit.
“Then that’s your answer. If it felt wrong, it was.” Her common sense is the thing I need. “As soon as that wedding is over, tell him about the baby. Give him a chance.”
“He’s just so young and successful and I’m—”
“Nope!” She is no longer whispering. “You are not doing this pity party nonsense. Yes, he’s a few years younger and crazy rich. But you are successful and beautiful and funny and smart. You’re a two-time gold medal winner for God’s sake. And you were in a band. And before he came along, you were amazing at your creepy-ass job, which by the way I’m so glad you’re not doing anymore. It was a soul-sucking experience. And now, you don’t have to freeze your eggs. So no one feels sorry for you.”
I laugh loudly, stifling it before he hears me.
“Trust me, Jenny, Lawrence is the lucky one. And I bet I wouldn’t even have to tell him that. I bet he knows it. And while I’m Team Lawrence already, I will hold my excitement and judgment of him until he finds out about the b
aby.”
She pauses and I wait for the rest of her inspirational speech.
“If he doesn’t want to have a relationship after he finds out about the baby, screw him. You don’t need him. You never did. And at least this time you’ll know what his worth is right away, and you’re not wasting three years of your life again.”
“I love you,” I say with a deep breath. She is the first person to lift a girl up every time. “I’m the lucky one, to have a friend like you.”
“I know it. Which is why I know you’ll still come with me to freeze my eggs.” She laughs. “I love you too, now you go and have an amazing time.”
“Okay.”
“Babies and Billionaires. That’s the title of the book. Bye.” She ends the call and leaves me smiling to myself in the bathroom.
It’s the pep talk I needed to get me through the next four days.
And now, Sunday, the day I tell him about the baby, can’t come fast enough. I want the secret that weighs more than I can carry to be gone. Even if I’m scared he won’t want to be together when he finds out.
Because Claire’s right, I don’t need him. I want him.
I leave the bathroom, smiling and feeling okay.
“There you are,” he says as he walks over to me from the living room where he was sitting with Simon. An older lady is with him, smiling at me. “This is Millie, my cat sitter. Millie, this is Jenny, my girlfriend.”
“Lovely to meet you.” Millie stands and offers me her hand.
“You too.” I take it and delicately shake, leaning in to murmur, “So you make the food and clean, and he calls you a cat sitter to not feel bad about having a housekeeper?”
“Indeed.” She winks at me. There’s a sparkle in her eyes that reminds me of my mom. “I have to admit, I’m a bit of a fan.”
“Oh.” I’m taken aback, unprepared for her to like women’s hockey.
“I haven’t seen him like this before. I’ve known his family since he was a boy and never has a woman caught his eye and brought him to task as you have.” She nods in approval.
“What?” Lori stands and scowls at us.
“Just saying how much I love her relish on the sandwiches,” I lie.
His eyes narrow. “Why do I feel outnumbered suddenly?”
We laugh.
“You best get finished packing,” Millie offers with a smile. “I’ll make some food for the trip.” She winks at me, as if we’re co-conspirators, and moseys off in the opposite direction we walk.
“Whatever that was, I’m not digging it.” He points between Millie and me and walks to the bedroom with me on his heels and Simon on mine. The cat’s growing on me.
I scoop him up and carry him to the bed to watch Lori pack.
“You’re all packed then?” he shouts from the closet that might as well be a mile away.
“Yeah,” I lie again. My bag is packed but it’s not what I would have brought to the wedding. It will have to do since the rest of my clothes have been packed into boxes for storage. The moving company should be meeting my super at the apartment tomorrow to put everything into the unit I’ve rented.
My phone buzzes with a message from my brother.
Did you tell him?
I wince and swipe to message back without opening my phone.
No, Sunday after the wedding.
Even texting it feels wrong. This lie is huge and keeping it from him has made a permanent lump in my throat.
Don’t chicken out. Text me when it’s done.
He sends a heart but I click the phone off.
We haven’t spoken about his ultimate betrayal yet, mostly because I’ve avoided talking about Mom. I curl around the cat and run my hand over his fur. It lulls me and I yawn, fighting the sudden onset of sleepiness.
“How many swimsuits do you have?” Lori asks, jolting me awake.
“One,” I answer and start petting Simon’s soft, fluffy belly again.
“One?” He walks into the bedroom. “Just one?”
“Yeah,” I say with a heavy exhale. He’s talking but I’m so tired I can barely keep my eyes open. I blink and the next thing I know I’m being woken up by him.
“Time to go.” He kisses my cheek and scratches me with the scruff on his face.
I nod into him but a wave of nausea hits.
It takes a minute to get up and for the strange feeling to go away.
He carries my bag and his and walks from the room, calling back, “Come on!”
It takes all my effort to follow, and the whole way to the elevator, I feel like I’m wading through water. My legs are heavy and I can’t stop yawning.
“You can nap on the plane.” He kisses my forehead and I lean in, noticing the sensation of the elevator moving.
It can’t be morning sickness, since it’s afternoon, but this is definitely not normal.
What timing.
Of course this is my luck.
12
The little inn
Lori
Watching Jenny board my jet to fly to Martha’s Vineyard has my stomach whirling, and as much as I want to relax and enjoy her being here, something’s off. She’s still not telling me what is going on. And maybe it’s just the job thing, but it feels like more.
At least we aren’t alone. She seems to perk up when everyone else is here. Particularly, Bev who is sitting next to her.
Sukii and Cap get a seat together and she stares out the window excitedly.
Jenny’s eyes flicker to mine when she doesn’t think I’m looking, making the rock in the bottom of my guts heavier.
“Are we meeting everyone in Martha’s?” Sukii asks.
“On Martha’s.” I grin. “Yeah.”
“Is it the same people at this wedding as the last one?” Sukii continues.
“No.” I glance at Cap who grimaces at the question, aware of who’s coming to this one. “Believe it or not, Nat has a crowd of fairly awful people coming. Like Rich’s parents. I just hope his douchebag brother doesn’t try to tag along.”
“Why would Rich’s parents be coming to Nat’s wedding?” Sukii asks. “I thought she grew up poor.”
“Nat’s known the Greenwich crew her entire life. Which might get interesting because half the wedding is Brady’s Providence crowd, low to middle income.”
“Like us?” Bev points at herself.
“Yes. They’re chill and funny. His mom is the sweetest lady.” Cap laughs. “She calls him BJ. It’s pretty magical to witness. His brother is a huge pain in the ass, but we all adore Andy.”
“And then the Greenwich crowd is the snootiest group of people you’ll ever meet. They make the Manhattan troop seem pleasant and down-to-earth,” I offer.
“Oh.” Sukii wrinkles her nose. “Nat’s so cool though.”
“Her mom’s not. At all. Rich’s family is downright awful. Like I said, his brother is a sleazebag. He and Nat used to date. He treated her like garbage. I got to watch Brady give him a beating in the yard over it.” I smile fondly. “That was a good day.”
Jenny laughs seeing my face. “That is the most contented I’ve ever seen you.”
“That’s a lie.” I chuckle. “But it was awesome. He was shit-talking Nat, calling her a whore. Brady lost it. A truly great moment.”
“So do Carson and Rich’s parents know they’re together? If they’re so awful are they cool with them being gay?” Sukii just keeps them coming.
“Yeah, of course they know. It’s not something Rich is capable of hiding but Carson’s not so showy.”
“I did notice that at Sami’s wedding. They’re not as touchy in front of the older people.”
“That’s Carson.” I smile at Jenny. “But I think Rich might be the love of his life, so he’ll eventually get over it.”
“Maybe Sami can plan their wedding next.” Sukii winks.
“Don’t mention it to her. God, I need a break.” I’m exhausted and we still have these last few days to get through before we get some weeks off.
“The ceremony is at Winnetu Oceanside Resort on South Beach at sunset. Followed by dinner at the resort. The rehearsal dinner is at my place.” I haven’t told her where we’re going. She’s so money-phobic that I didn’t want to say anything until I had to.
“Your place?” And there it is. The look of worry. “Like where we’re staying?”
“Yeah, it’s a house I got a while back.”
Cap scoffs and tries to pretend he’s coughing.
“A while back? You’re twenty-two,” Sukii says with a laugh that dies off when she sees I’ve had enough of their obsession with my age. She clears her throat. “Sorry, I forget you’re the richest person I know.”
“I’m not.” I try to keep my tone in check.
“Right.” Sukii lowers her gaze.
“Let me guess,” Jenny says with a wry grin. “You got it from an old widow for a song so you bought it as a little investment and now they’re using it for the wedding since it sits empty all year?” Her stare is challenging and for a moment it feels like we’re normal again.
“No.” I chuckle. “I paid a fortune for it almost five years ago. And yes, I was eighteen at the time. But I’ve had it renovated and it’s sort of a rental. I guess. I’ve used it a few times for personal events. My grandfather’s birthday was there a couple of years ago.”
“You bought a house when you were a teenager? Is that even legal?” she questions me with that sexy and challenging look.
“Not without a trust. But I figured it out.” My tone kills off the conversation.
When Bev puts her seat back, Jenny gets up and walks over to sit next to me.
“I’m sorry we’re always doing the ‘you’re twenty-two’ thing,” she mutters. “It’s not that you’re so young, it’s that we’re getting older and haven’t accomplished any of the things you have.”