In Between Heartbeats (Hearts in Waiting Duet: Book Two)
Page 18
“Hmm,” she replies. “Maybe you’re right.”
I tuck the foot I’ve been working on up against my leg, then pick up the other one and begin massaging its sole.
“Speaking of fathers and daughters…” I begin, “in my weakened and apologetic state this evening, I might have promised Willow that I’d take her roller skating tomorrow.”
“Oh, really?” she asks with a laugh. “I’d be willing to pay good money to watch you flying around on roller skates.”
“Well, lucky for you, you get the show for free. And, trust me, it will be a show. The last time I took her was a few years ago, and I fell so many times that my ass was black and blue for a week.”
“Oh, man, this is going to be fun,” she says. “How did your talk go by the way?”
I chew on the inside of my lip, thinking back on the long—but necessary—apology I had given Willow. “I think it went okay. She was actually incredibly understanding.”
“She’s way too mature for her years,” Addison says.
“She really is. She forgave me, but I still feel like shit about it all. Maybe that’s a good thing, though. I screwed up and now I need to handle the repercussions of that, even if most are internal at this point. Regardless, I made it clear that she can come to me anytime she needs to talk and she seemed to get it.”
“She knows you love her, Chase. A few bad weeks doesn’t negate all the dedication and love you’ve shown her over her entire life.”
“I hope you’re right,” I respond.
We both stay quiet then. I focus on the task in front of me while she watches the TV. Eventually, her eyes start to flutter close.
“You ready for bed?” I ask her, gently nudging her leg with my hand.
Her eyes flutter open and she looks at me with a sleepy little grin. “Only on one condition.”
“What’s that?” I stand from the couch and reach out for her hand, helping to pull her up.
“That I don’t have to sleep alone tonight.”
I give her a smile, placing my hands on either side of her head and running my fingers against her scalp. “No, baby, you never have to sleep alone again.”
32
Addison
“Hey, buddy,” I say into the phone. Sharp pain radiates through my hips as I waddle into the kitchen. I’m surprised this child hasn’t already fallen out of me with how low he’s been hanging. I smooth my hand over Willow’s long braid as I walk by her, perched at the dining room table, doing her math homework.
“Hey, gorgeous,” Drake responds. “How are you?”
“You mean other than feeling like an alien invaded my body and is holding my bladder hostage?”
I grab a cup from the cabinet and fill it with water, wishing instead that it was a big glass of merlot. It’d probably do a hell of a lot better than the Tylenol that doesn’t even come close to making a dent in the pain. My sides have literally been splitting apart at the growth and expansion of my hips and stomach. Angry, red stretch marks litter their surface, despite me doing everything the internet has instructed in order to prevent them.
“Yikes, forget I even asked.” His words are garbled, like he’s speaking with his mouth full of food. I pause my walk back into the living room. Saliva pools in my mouth and my stomach grumbles in complaint.
“Oh my god,” I moan. “What are you eating?”
“A burger.”
I hear him take another bite as he chews loudly into the phone. I’m so hungry that his rude smacking doesn’t even bother me. Instead, I plop down on the couch and close my eyes, fantasizing about a big juicy burger—with bacon—and a huge plate of fries.
“Uh-huh,” I say. I fluff up a couch pillow and try to get comfortable on it, but it just feels like a big boulder against my back. “Describe it to me.”
“Ma’am, I think you have the wrong number. This isn’t some food-sex hotline. I’m a gentleman!”
I gasp at his ridiculousness before cracking up. “Food-sex hotline? Is that even a thing?”
“How would I know? I don’t need to pay for female attention, Addison. Why are you fantasizing over a burger anyway? Tell Chase to go get you one.”
“Chase,” I yell. “Drake said you need to go get me a burger.”
“You tell that fucker—”
“Oh my gosh, Dad, language!” Willow screeches at Chase, before he can even finish.
“Sorry,” Chase mutters.
“No burger for me,” I say sadly. “He’s making chicken tacos.”
“Well that sounds pretty damn good actually. Oh, wait, did you go with Janice to check out the dance studio today? What did you think?”
“It was perfect, Drake! It needs some work from sitting vacant for a few years, but nothing major. And holy shit, the asking price was so low that I could probably even afford to hire professionals to do the work rather than forcing you and Chase.”
“Professionals?!” he says, sounding offended. “Don’t waste your money on that crap. We’re the only professionals you need.”
“You sound just like Chase,” I reply. “I don’t care who does it or how it gets done. I’ll stress on that another day. Tonight, I’m too busy relishing in the fact that I’m making my dreams come true.”
“Congratulations, Addison. I’m proud of you.”
“Thanks,” I respond. “Any-who, I was calling because I had a favor to ask of you., which is actually a favor to you as well, so it’s a win-win.”
“I’m listening.”
“I need you to go to LA for me,” I say.
“Done.”
“Done?” I laugh. “But you don’t even know what for!”
“Doesn’t matter. Olivia’s there, right?”
“I was hoping you would say that.” I grin. “Her CMF fundraiser is in two weeks and I thought I’d be good to go, but apparently, you can’t fly after you’re thirty-six weeks pregnant. Which is ridiculous because there’s no way this baby is coming anytime soon. But my doctor still won’t clear me.”
“Does she know I’ll be coming?” Drake asks. “Olivia, not your doctor.”
“My doctor’s a dude,” I retort. “And no, not yet. I was thinking you could surprise her?”
“I like where your head’s at. Text me the info.”
33
Chase
“Okay, do you think the crib would look better on this wall,” Addison asks, scooting the empty crib box over to one wall, where she pauses and focuses intently on me for a few seconds, “or this wall?” She shifts the box over to the opposite wall and pauses again.
“Hmm…I don’t know,” I respond. “Can I see it on the first wall again?”
She nods and scoots the box back over.
“And now the second?” I say.
She tips her head in annoyance but slides it back to the second wall.
“Uh-huh. And now the first again?” I tease.
“Chase!” she says, throwing her hands in the air.
“I’m sorry,” I say with a laugh. “Honestly, I don’t think it matters which wall it’s on.”
She shoots me a don’t-you-dare-say-that look.
I back-track, hands in the air in surrender. “But, obviously, you do. So it’s very important to me that we choose the right wall.” I place my hand on my chin and look at the room with as much scrutiny I can muster.
“I just want everything to be perfect.” She sighs, analyzing the same two walls.
“I know you do, baby, but this room is only temporary anyway. Once he’s here, we’ll start the process of choosing a new home and you—I mean, we—can spend hours agonizing over every single detail all over again. And it will be perfect, I promise.”
I close the distance between us in just a few steps and pull her to my chest. I pucker my lips obnoxiously and lean down to steal some kisses, but she pushes me away as soon as my hands start to wander toward her ass.
“We have way too much to do for you to distract me!” She laughs.
“Oh come
on. I’m just trying to show my baby how much I love her.”
“And a really great way to do that would be to help me finish this room,” she retorts. She raises an eyebrow in challenge and heads over to the crib that’s been all but abandoned in the corner of the room.
My eyes are on her as she saunters away. I swear she does it on purpose, shaking her hips just enough that her ass jiggles as she walks. It’s a beautiful sight to behold and she knows it drives me wild.
“I’ve got an idea,” I say suddenly.
“Oh yeah? Is it where this crib needs to go?” she counters.
“Wall number two. The first wall is too close to the window.”
She eyes the window as if seeing it for the first time and smiles. With an enthusiastic nod, she starts to move the crib.
“What the hell are you doing? Step away from the large, heavy furniture. woman.” I join her by the crib and carefully scoot it into position, being sure not to scratch the floor as I go.
When it’s finally in place, I stand back and admire its placement, a smiling Addison at my side.
“You approve?” I ask, nudging her gently with my elbow.
“I approve.” She nudges me back and I pretend it knocks me off balance. She rolls her eyes, but looks amused, so I’ll take it as a win.
“Good! Now, are you ready to hear my idea?” I grab her by the shoulders and turn her to face me. I don’t even bother waiting for her response. “For every decision I make, you lose a piece of clothing. And since I’ve already made one really big, really important decision, I think we should start with this.” I tug at the hem of her hoodie, pulling it over her head when she raises her arms.
“That doesn’t seem very fair,” she says, looking down to her black leggings and powder blue tank top. “I would only get two more decisions out of you and we have a heck of a lot more than that left to make!”
“Okay, that’s fair,” I reply, looking around at the boxes of décor, clothes, and baby items strewn about. I snap my fingers as an even better thought comes to mind. “So we alternate. For each decision made, one of us loses a piece of clothing. It’s win-win.”
She plants one hand on her hip and juts it out in attitude. “Fine. But all the furniture counts as one and you’ve already removed my first item of clothing, so it’s time to get to work.”
We spend the next two hours finishing up the room. The clothes are the hardest part, because apparently, a baby needs a closet organized by season and color so it’s easy to dress him for all the exciting events Gamble Springs has to offer.
That’s sarcasm, by the way.
Frankly, I don’t understand it, but if it puts a smile on Addison’s face—and gets rid of those leggings—I’m damn sure going to make it happen. We’re both standing in our underwear; her, bra-free but still covered by the tank top. It rides up her belly whenever she stretches to reach something or moves around the room, and even looking like Winnie the Pooh, she’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.
“Now that we’re almost naked, what should we do about it?” I ask her, gyrating my hips in the air seductively.
It must not do the trick because instead of dropping to her knees in lust, she explodes in a fit of laughter. After a few moments, she seems to get it together, but when I take a step toward her again, she immediately starts snort laughing all over again. Feeling defeated, I stand in front of her, hands on my hips.
“Wow, thanks for that,” she says, wiping at the tears collecting in the corners of her eyes.
“I’m glad I could entertain you, my lady, but I would have preferred to entertain you another way.” This time, I choose to stick with just wiggling my eyebrows at her rather than humping the air in sexual innuendo.
“Okay, Casanova,” she says, patting my chest. “Why don’t you put a hold on those thoughts and those moves. We need to go get Willow from school.”
I check my watch and groan. “Oh, come on! We have five minutes. That’s all I need.”
“I know,” she deadpans.
I gasp in offense and grab her arm, pulling her against me and hooking my hand around her neck. I put my lips to hers roughly, swallowing her moan before dropping kisses down the expanse of her neck.
“Four and a half minutes,” she whispers.
I nip at her neck with a growl while she giggles, so damn proud of herself. But the laughter comes to a screeching halt when I rub my thumb over her puckered nipple. I grin as her lips part on a breath, bending down to lap at its hardened peek through her shirt. I slide my hand down to her hip and grind into her, shuffling her back a few steps until she’s pressed to the wall.
“Four minutes,” she whispers against my lips.
“Woman, if you don’t stop timing me.”
“You’ll what?” she challenges.
“I’ll stop touching you.” I move my fingers under her panties, feeling her wet and ready for me, so I waste no time sliding a finger inside of her, enjoying the little mewl of pleasure that squeaks out of her. If I only have four minutes, I need to make them count.
“No,” she says. “Don’t stop!”
Another finger joins the first, sliding in and out of her at a steady pace. I devour her mouth, licking and teasing until she’s panting and writhing against me. Grinding my palm against her swollen clit, I hook my fingers inside of her and rub them against her sweet spot. She throws her head back, her pussy gripping a hold of my fingers as they thrust in and out of her. Her moans are loud and uninhibited as she shakes in my arms.
“Damn, I love watching you come,” I whisper against her temple.
When she comes down from her high, I slow my fingers and reluctantly pull them out of her.
“Thirty seconds,” she says, her eyes slowly opening while a grin spreads across her face.
“Not too shabby, huh?” I wink at her, placing a quick kiss to her lips and pulling away. I snag my pants off the floor, and work on getting dressed while Addison does the same. I try not to smirk at how cute she is when she has to sit down in the new rocking chair to pull on her leggings.
When she’s done, I grab her hand and look around the room, feeling a sense of pride at all we’ve managed to accomplish, not just today, but every day since she showed up at my door.
“Is it perfect yet?” I ask her.
She smiles and says, “Yeah. It’s perfect.”
Epilogue
ADDISON
“Last box,” I sing-song, climbing the small ramp of the moving truck and thrusting the box into Chase’s waiting arms. “I’ll go get the kids.”
I retreat back into the house and head up the stairs, taking them two at a time, my excitement at finally moving into our new house fueling my steps. I hurry into Willow’s bedroom and see her lying with her brother on a big comforter on the empty floor.
She has a tablet set up beside them playing Aladdin, but her focus is on her little brother rather than her favorite childhood movie. Cannon is cooing away, looking up at Willow with trusting eyes as she disappears behind her hands and pops back out to surprise him. Even at just five months old, he adores his big sister—and the feeling is obviously mutual.
“Hey, sweetie, thanks for watching him for a few minutes,” I say. “Are you all set to go?”
Willow stands robotically, smoothing down the fabric of her shorts and nodding her head.
I grab Cannon’s diaper bag, filling it up with the toys that clutter the blanket before picking him up from his Sit-Me-Up. Willow shuts off her tablet and holds it to her chest. Her eyes are jumping around the room, as if trying to memorize every single detail.
“You okay?” I ask her.
It’s a question I don’t have to fear asking anymore because it no longer ends with Willow in tears. She still sees her therapist twice a month, and she and Chase visit Emily’s grave every Sunday, but for the most part, she’s able to make it through the days without issue.
“Yeah,” she responds. “It’s just weird. I’ve left my room so many times and it was
no big deal, but now when I leave, I won’t be coming back.”
I nod my head, opening an arm wide so she can come in for a hug. I allow her to take her time, even when my arm starts to ache from holding up her bowling ball of a brother.
“Okay,” she says bravely. She pulls her shoulders back and tips her chin back up to look at me. “I’m ready.”
We finish loading up and drive the two miles to our new home. I’ve barely put the truck into park—yes, I’ve finally gotten brave enough to drive it—before Willow is hopping out and running toward the house. I pull Cannon out of his car seat while she runs around the property. Chase pulls up in the moving truck just a few minutes after us. He grabs his little mini-me from my arms and the Sit-Me-Up from the back seat.
“Don’t touch a thing,” he says. “I have a surprise.”
Willow runs back over with a squeal and I look at the two of them in confusion.
“A surprise?” I ask, following them up to the front steps of the house. “Is it a new coffee pot?”
Chase wrinkles his forehead. “A coffee pot? What’s wrong with the old one?”
“I broke it,” I say with a shrug. Then, I grab Cannon’s diaper bag and cross the strap over my front.
“I said don’t grab anything,” he lovingly scolds. “Wait, how did you break the coffee pot? I thought those things were indestructible.”
“You thought wrong, sir.” I send him a wink as he opens the front door to our new home.
“I’d pick you up and carry you over the mantle, but I’ve kinda got my hands full.” He leans down and kisses Cannon’s chubby little cheek, getting his nose yanked on in the process.
“Oh, I guess I’ll let it slide,” I say, unhooking Cannon’s fist from Chase’s nose before stepping inside. “Okay, where’s this surprise?” I rub my palms together in excitement.