by Lindsay Becs
Mom
* * *
I cry all the tears I can and then I sit up, grab my journal and pen, and write back.
“Penny!” I yell outside for her to come in for dinner. I shake my head when I see her rounding the corner of the house with the new boy from next door beside her.
Travis’s neighbor, Tilly, moved in a year ago. A month ago, her sister and husband were killed in a car accident, leaving Tilly as guardian over their son, her nephew, Jesse. Jesse Jones moved in with Tilly and started raising hell the second he got there. He’s ten and three years older than Penny, but she doesn’t let him get away with anything. It’s pretty humorous to watch, actually.
“I told you. She’s my sister, not my mom!” Penny yells at Jesse. He’s got a smirk on his face, showing that he’s pushing her buttons on purpose.
“Pen, come on, dinner is ready. Jesse, you’re welcome to join us if you want,” I tell the pair of them.
“No thanks,” he grumbles, walking to his house next door, kicking dirt on his way.
“What was that about?” I ask Penny as she washes her hands at the sink.
“How should I know?” She shrugs. “He’s got more moods than you!”
“Hey! That’s not nice, you little twerp!”
“Can’t say it isn’t true, Tate.” The little turd may be right, but it still stings a little bit.
“Fine,” I give in. “What were you two doing, anyway?”
“We were catching crickets in the field. Jesse said that maybe later we could try to catch lightning bugs. Can I go back out after dinner?” she asks as we set everything for dinner on the table.
“You’ll have to ask your dad. He doesn’t like you going out after dark.”
She slumps into her seat and crosses her arms over her chest. “He’ll say no.”
“Oh, so you thought you’d get me to say yes then, huh?”
“Duh!”
I roll my eyes and begin helping her make her tacos. We’re almost finished when Travis comes in to join us. We eat and talk about our days, and after we clean up, he gives Penny a flashlight and a jar and tells her she has thirty minutes to catch lightning bugs.
While Travis goes out back to keep an eye on Penny, I go upstairs to take a bath. I just sink into the water, hoping it’ll help calm the ache in my back, when my phone rings. Without looking, I answer and immediately regret it.
“Hello?” I answer
“Sugar? You answered.” Benton’s deep rasp comes through the line. It’s like a warm blanket over my body.
I close my eyes to take a second before responding. “I guess so.”
“What’s going on, Tatum?” His question and the way he says my name have tears filling my eyes. Stupid emotions.
“I can’t really talk, Benton,” I tell him, biting the inside of my cheek to check myself.
“Please? Talk to me. Tell me anything. Tell me to fuck off even. But please don’t shut me out. What happened? Are you alright? Did someone hurt you? Talk to me, Sugar.” He sounds so desperate. He sounds exhausted. They should be in Malaysia, I think.
“I’m fine. I just needed to leave. But I can’t talk right now,” I tell him and shift back in the tub, water moving around my swelling belly.
“Are you taking one of your baths?”
“Yes,” I answer.
“I miss joining you.” The line is quiet for a minute, and the baby starts to kick. It’s like he or she knows I’m crumbling talking to their father. “You promise me you’re alright? You’re feeling better, yeah?”
“Yeah, I’m feeling better. I’m alright.”
“Good. That’s good. I needed this. I needed to hear your voice. Know you were alright.”
“I’m sorry,” I whisper.
“I miss you so fucking much.” He sounds tortured saying those words.
I blink back tears again. “I need to go.”
“Two more races. Then I’m coming for you, Sugar.”
And the line goes dead.
Chapter 14
Benton
The two months without Tatum have been awful. Nothing felt right. My pre-race nights were off. My whole vibe felt off. I don’t know how the bloody hell I still managed to race decently because my mind was everywhere but on the track. My spark was gone, and the only reason I was finishing the season was my binding contract. Otherwise, I’d have been across the world fighting for my girl.
Hearing her voice a month ago gave me the bit of fuel I needed to keep my fire going. Although she said she was fine, she didn’t sound fine. Something was still off. I just need to see her, talk to her, find out what. I could help fix whatever was going on if she’d just talk to me and stop shutting me out.
I pull up to Pretty Girl Garage, for the second time, and hope that she’s here this time. My palms are sweating as I walk to the entrance. I’m nervous to see her. I race on two wheels, riding at over 150 miles per hour, but this makes me nervous.
I rub my hands down my jeans and pull open the door. I see her huddled over a desk with some guy hovering over her back, their heads close together. Too close. It sets my blood boiling, and I wonder if this is really why she left. I steel my jaw and clear my throat, interrupting their cuddle time.
They both look up slowly, but the man stays close to her, touching her, and I want to rip his face off.
“What are you doing here?” Tatum asks softly, her eyes wide in shock.
“I told you I was coming for you,” I say as my eyes go to the guy, then back to her with a questioning look of what the fuck?
She stares at me in bewilderment for a minute before she speaks again. The entire time, the guy behind her keeps his eyes set on me in a defensive way that I don’t like one bit.
“Benton,” she says my name slowly, and I’m not sure if it’s to get my attention or that of the other guy. “This is my brother, Oliver. Ollie, this is Benton.”
I relax from her introduction, but her brother seems to tense more and I’m not sure what that’s about. Did she tell him something about me to give him a bad impression?
“Nice to meet you, Ollie,” I greet, taking a step toward them with my hand outstretched.
He hesitates a second, but nods and shakes my hand. “Tatum, I’m going to go,” Ollie says slowly, pausing to look at me again. “I was going to head home, but I can hang back for a little bit if you want. You good?”
She slowly nods her head. “I’m good, Ollie. Thank you for lunch today,” she answers, not taking her eyes off me. He kisses her cheek and leaves, and her face is still void of any emotion since I first walked in.
“You can drop the façade now, Sugar,” I tell her as I take a step toward her, wanting to see her smile and not have her walls of defense up.
“I can’t believe you’re here,” she says on a whisper, like I’m a figment of her imagination.
“I told you I was coming for you.” I smile and take another step closer. “I’d never lie to you.” Step. “Now, I need you not to lie to me.” Step. “Tell me why you left.”
She’s still sitting behind the office desk, so I kneel down next to her chair and take her hand. “Please, tell me what I did to make you leave and what I can do to make it up to you. I need you, Tatum. I need you more than I thought I could ever need anyone. I’m so sorry for whatever I did. Just talk to me and tell me what I did. Please? I need you to put me out of my misery, yeah?”
I see tears fill her eyes, and it breaks my heart that I’m making her cry. This woman of steel that is the strongest person I know.
“Stand up,” she tells me, wiping a stray tear off her cheek. “Stand up,” she repeats, and I do as she says, letting go of her hand and taking a step back, scared that there’s no coming back from whatever has happened.
Then she pushes her chair away from the desk and slowly stands, keeping her eyes on mine the entire time, her blue eyes shining brightly as they brim with unshed tears. She looks unnerved and scared, and I hate that I don’t know how to help soothe it
away.
Even with her tear-stained face, she’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on. I can’t look away. My fingers itch to touch her, but I’m unsure if I should.
I move to take a hesitant step toward her once more, but her head bows as she looks down, halting my steps. She peeks back up at me through her lashes, and that’s when I let my eyes trail down her body. Her soft, curled, blonde hair falling over her shoulders, hiding her perfect chest under the V-neck of the dress she’s wearing.
Then I see it. Her hand is resting on her stomach. Her swollen stomach. Her pregnant-looking stomach. My eyes shoot back to hers, and I see the fear there again.
“Sugar…” I trail off as I close the distance between us now.
“I’m so sorry, Benton,” she says weakly. “I know I should have told you. Please forgive me,” she cries.
Reaching up, I cup her cheeks and bring her lips to mine. I need to feel her, taste her, know she’s alright. When I pull away, a sob falls from her lips as she sinks into me. I hold her close, her pregnant stomach between us until she settles.
“Tell me. Tell me why you didn’t say something before,” I urge.
“This is all a mess. I’m a mess. I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry,” she cries more.
“Shhh… it’s alright. Just start from the beginning, yeah?”
Through her tears, she tells me about finding out she was pregnant and my father asking her to leave and not say anything. How she didn’t want to distract me and wanted nothing but the best for me. I feel a full gamut of emotions as she tells me everything that’s transpired in the past months.
“I’m so sorry, Benny. I know I should have told you before. Please forgive me,” she pleads again.
“What makes you think I wouldn’t forgive you? You were already my world. Now my world just got a little bit bigger,” I say with my hand on her belly. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here for you. I’m sorry I did this and was too concerned with myself to realize you could possibly be pregnant. I’m such a fool for not thinking of it before. It all makes complete sense now. You being sick, my father being dodgy, you not wanting to see or talk to me, all of it.” I smile at her. “How far in are we then?”
“I’m twenty-seven weeks. I’m at the end of month six.”
“I’ve missed so much.” I rub her belly some more, then drop to my knees to hold our baby. “We made a life.”
“We did.”
I look up at her. “I love you. I love this baby. I’m not going anywhere without you ever again.” I kiss her belly. “Tatum—” I’m cut off by the door between the office and garage opening.
“Tate, I need… whoa!” It’s Travis.
I lean my head onto her belly and laugh. “Hiya.”
“So, you came back. Good man,” he says. “I’ll, uh, yep.” And then he’s gone again.
Tatum and I both crack and start to laugh. She pulls me up, and I wrap my arms around her. “I missed your laugh, Sugar.”
“I missed laughing with you,” she says, snuggling in closer. “Promise me you’ll always make me laugh.”
“I’ll promise you always if you’ll give me forever.” I kiss the top of her head.
“How could I not? You’re my favorite,” she says, looking at me and letting her smile grow on her perfect face.
My lips hit hers and I want to seal those words, our fate, and our future together forever. I will promise her anything she wants and never break it for as long as I live, as long as she’s always by my side.
We leave hand in hand with promises of forever. Once back at Travis’s house, where she’s been staying, she shows me the ultrasound pictures of our baby. She doesn’t know if it’s a boy or girl, and I’m happy she left that a mystery for both of us to find out together.
I strip her down and kiss every inch of her belly where our child is growing. I tell them that I’m not leaving now and that I’m sorry I’ve missed so much. I rub lotion on her skin that’s stretching and feel little feet kick under my hands. It’s magical.
Chapter 15
Tatum
“Gah! I hate that I can’t stop fucking crying!” I yell, wiping my eyes with the heels of my hands.
“I kind of like it,” Benton says in his raspy voice with a chuckle. “It makes you seem softer and more human.”
“Softer?! I don’t want to be soft! I’m already getting softer in every other way. I don’t want to be a wimpy pile of tears, too,” I groan, falling backward onto the bed.
His laughter grows as his arm bands around me and he kisses my shoulder. “You are anything but a wimp, Sugar.”
“I hate that I keep crying. I hate that I’m getting fat. Everywhere. I didn’t agree to this part,” I say while throwing my arm over my eyes.
I know I’m being dramatic, but I can’t help it. It’s what this tiny human inside of me is doing to me. Every kiss and rub of my belly that Benton has done since we got back to the house has turned on the faucet of my eyes and they won’t stop leaking.
He lightly kisses the underside of my arm over my eyes before pulling it off my face. He’s looking down at me so reverently, and I can’t believe I ever thought he’d be mad at me. He had every right to be, but that’s not him. That’s not Benton King. That’s me.
“I know you would much rather make another cry than cry yourself, but the tables have turned now, yeah? You need to embrace the human side of you for a bit,” he says and lays a soft kiss on my nose. “And as for you getting fat, I am quite offended that you are calling the growth of our child fat,” he states with a grin while rubbing my belly.
“Tatum, you are anything but fat. And, yes, your body has and will change, but it’s because you are carrying life inside of you. A life that you and I made together. There is nothing wrong with that. I will love you and want you if you are the size of a twig or the size of an elephant. You are beautiful and gorgeous, and perfect, and mine. And I want to fuck you so bad,” he rumbles, kissing the side of my neck. “Tell me you’re done with your self-pity so I can have my way with you and make you come.”
“Well, now I’m all horny, so yes, please do,” I say, running my fingers through his hair.
He doesn’t respond with words but instead kisses me, his tongue diving into my mouth and showing me how much he missed me, us.
He took my dress off of me the second we walked into the bedroom so he could look at our child growing in my stomach. Now, I’m left in only my thong and bra.
“Take your clothes off, Benny. I need to feel your skin on mine,” I tell him, reaching for his belt. In seconds, he’s standing before me naked and like a Viking king. His broad shoulders, perfectly sculpted abs, and trim waist are the perfect preshow to his impressive dick, standing tall. I lick my lips as I think about where I want to lick him first.
“Careful how you look at me, Sugar,” he rasps with a sexy grin on his face, his eyes burning bright when they meet mine. He begins to reach for his pants, I know to get a condom, when he stills. “Guess I don’t need those guys for a while, yeah?”
I shake my head with a smirk. “I don’t think they did much good anyway.”
He prowls to the bed and pulls my thong down my legs. The cool air hits my heated center when he spreads me wide, and that alone already has me moaning. He crawls up my body, pulling off my bra. His mouth closes over my already hardened nipple.
“I missed these,” he rumbles around my breast. “They are the prettiest pink and my favorite color.”
“You know that nipples and lips are the same color?” I ask. I don’t know why, but I do. He starts to laugh and looks up at me. “It’s true!”
His eyes dart back and forth between my mouth and my nipples, over and over, his smile growing more and more. “I think you’re right. I could look at either and be a happy man.”
A laugh pops from me. “Well, start kissing one or the other, happy man.”
“Bossy,” he teases before he pulls my nipple between his teeth, making me yelp. “I really did miss y
our tits. They truly are my favorite,” he says, looking at them like he’s talking about long-lost friends. “And they’ve already begun to grow bigger.” He smiles wider.
I roll my eyes as I pull his head back to my chest. He laughs but then continues getting reacquainted with his friends.
His thick fingers find their way down my body, discovering how wet I am for him. He draws his fingers in and out of me a few times. Then he brings them to my breasts, painting my reddened nipples with my wetness. He blows a cool breath on them, making them harden before his hot mouth goes back to laving them. He’s groaning like it’s his favorite flavor.
His fingers go back to my wet center, playing with me like he’s playing the piano, and it’s driving me wild. He pinches my clit between two fingers and pushes his thumb inside, making me cry out. He repeats this a few times, but it doesn’t take long before I explode in tingles and scream out his name.
Sitting back on his haunches, he coats his hard length in the wetness from his fingers begins to slide against my swollen flesh, aftershocks hitting me in jolts. “You are so beautiful,” he tells me before sinking into me. He starts with slow, languid strokes, but they soon turn fast and deep. My second orgasm is about to detonate when he pulls out, making me whine in protest. His smug smile tells me knows exactly what he’s doing. My eyes go to his hard, wet cock, and I want to taste him.
“I want you to ride me, Sugar. I want to see my favorite tits bounce,” he says, rolling us over to switch positions.
I give him my own smug smile, though, and slide down his body, feeling his rod glide over my sensitive core, my stomach, between my breasts, and then I take him into my mouth. I lick him from his balls to his head, tasting the mixture of us on him. I can see he wants to protest when I meet his eyes, but when I hollow my cheeks and suck him into my mouth, he groans and falls back. Rolling his balls in one hand, I stroke him with the other while taking him as deep as I can. I feel him begin to swell in my mouth, and I know he’s close.