Never once during all that time did I think about the guy following me home last night. I must have blocked it out because I didn’t want to sour the sweetness of our special day. But now, I can’t not tell him. Brendan hates not being told things. I learned that the hard way.
I open my eyes with this on my mind, troubled. “Brendan, I love you so much, it hurts.”
He frowns a little, trying to figure why my expression doesn’t match the response. “What’s up? What’s that look on your face? Are you still thinking I didn’t want this, because if you are–”
“No! No. It’s just…I remembered something I forgot to tell you.” He lowers my foot onto his lap, still holding it, waiting. “Well, it may have been nothing, but I think someone followed me home from work last night.”
His eyes change and his face contorts. “What?! You’re just now telling me this?”
“Honey, you’re squeezing my foot really hard,” I say, gently.
He releases it, and blinks over to the side. “Annie. What happened? I’m really not happy about this.”
“I know. I guess I blocked it out. I just wanted to enjoy our day!” He glares at me, trying to contain himself and not doing a great job. The story tumbles out of my mouth so quickly I jumble words up as I tell it. He listens with such incredible focus, it’s frightening. I can see why men are the ones who battle and start wars, because the fire in his eyes comes from somewhere deep, a place I don’t have in me.
When I’m finished, he asks through gritted teeth, “You didn’t see him?” I shake my head, which makes him vault off the ottoman and pace the room, raking one hand through his hair. “Why didn’t you look? Are you sure you were followed?”
Embarrassed I didn’t check behind me when I heard the footsteps in the first place, I give the tiniest nod. “Yeah, I am. I mean, I was. But the fog does funny things to me after that night, you know?” He nods curtly that he can understand that. “So maybe I was just hearing things? Bobby didn’t see anyone, and my purse and phone…they weren’t stolen!”
Brendan looks to the hardwood floor, searching his logic for answers. “Right, so if it was a robber, then he would have taken those things. Unless he saw Bobby and didn’t get the chance. Which is possible.”
I nod again, glad to see he’s calming down a little. “Yeah, but honey, he’s not going to be there again tonight. I mean, that wouldn’t make sense! They never come back to the scene of the–”
Brendan’s eyes blaze, silencing me. “Tommy did.”
My stomach turns over at the name. “Tommy’s in jail. This was probably just some guy who wanted Christmas money. There are a lot of robberies this time of year. There’s a lot of pressure on people to buy things when they can’t afford it. I’m sure that’s all it was. I’m sure he won’t be back.”
“What kind of sick bastard chases a pregnant woman?” Brendan asks himself. He raises his eyes with authority. “You’re not going in again.”
Losing my patience, I blurt, “Forever? Come on. Please be reasonable.”
His jaw ticks and seeing my fire rising, he shakes his head, informing me with clear enunciation, “Not until the baby is born and you can defend yourself again. And even then, I’m going to pick you up every night.”
I hit the couch with both hands, the blanket retaining the marks as my arms fly up. “What? Look, I’m not going to let some jerk steal away my freedom!”
“Annie!” Brendan holds his hand up.
“No! There are a lot of sickos in the world and I’m not going to change my life just because of them. And what? How would that work with you having to be at Location Times Three so early every weekday? How could you come pick me up at three in the morning and then be up and have anything to offer your agency in the way of ideas, or even a smile!”
“Until I feel comfortable, I don’t want you at that place all by yourself.”
“I’m not by myself! Someone is always with me!”
He cocks his head to the side in irritation, his lips tight. “You know what I mean. Walking to your car! Fuck! You know what we went through. Why do I have to argue about this?!” Storming away with both hands holding his head like it’s about to explode, he makes a primal sound and freezes by our beautiful tree.
I stare at the scene, suddenly aware of the Charlie Brown Christmas theme song playing in the background. How did we get here? I don’t want this, and I know I’m partly to blame, but how to get out of it with this rebellious head of mine? I truly hate authority, and this is the first time I’ve received it from Brendan in a place out of the bedroom. There, I’m totally fine with it! How to balance being me and being a wife, that’s the problem; a very new one.
I close my eyes, feeling absolutely terrible. “I’m sorry.” When he doesn’t face me, I add softy, “It’s just you know how much I care about that place. I’ve put everything into it. I’m not just an employee. I own it. But I don’t want to fight with you! It’s Christmas Eve.”
With his back to me, his head falls in defeated agreement. “I know,” he mumbles. Turning around with his head still hanging, it’s a few moments before he’s able to look at me, and those moments are torture. He licks his lips, raising his eyes to meet mine. “I’ll have someone pick you up on the nights I can’t be there, at least for a little while. Please just give me this.”
“My work and having my own thing is very important, Brendan. You know that. I feel like I’m talking to Christiano!”
Brendan glares at me. “That’s not fair.”
Exasperated, I exclaim, “It’s not! You’re right! It’s not fair that a woman has to worry about being assaulted and has to change her life accordingly, and give up things that matter to her, just to be safe! Or walk around afraid for her safety, at all! It’s not fair. It’s disgusting, and I hate it. Imagine walking into a parking lot, Brendan. Just picture that for a second. What do you do to make sure you’re safe? Nothing! As a man, you don’t even think about it. Well, I’m tired of this being a world where we women are tied up by invisible chains because some men see us as targets.”
Brendan sighs, pacing a couple steps in order to collect his argument. Finally, he looks at me from the corner of his eyes. “It’s not fair, Annie. You’re right. But you work in a job unlike most people’s. You work later hours, and we’re in a big city. We have to live in reality, not in a fantasy world where violence doesn’t happen. That’s why you’re taking Krav classes right?” I nod. “Well, I know what you’re saying is true. And that’s what we have to focus on. Because you are a target, it’s important to be safe, and until you can protect yourself again…” He sighs, closing his eyes. Lowering his voice, he turns and holds my eyes, wishing desperately for me to understand. “You don’t know what it is like to be a man and have your wife and baby in danger. You don’t know what it’s like for me,” he touches his chest, “when I think of that guy stalking you. Or any man touching you in any way. I want to kill them. And I don’t mean metaphorically. Please let me have Bobby come and take you home when I can’t, just for a little while. I’m begging you.”
Touched more than I can say, I surrender and take a deep, acquiescing breath. “I won’t work until the baby comes.” His eyebrows pop upward and he waits, listening for more. “And after that, I won’t close up anymore. I’ll hire a male bartender to work the tail end of the shifts, and between him and Manny bartending, too, that’ll cover that. The girls and I can share the early half.” Watching the dark cloud lift from my husband’s eyes, I add with a smile, “I’m sure when Jacob is actually in my arms–you hear that Jacob?–I will want to spend more time at home anyway. I can just go in during the early shift to get my fix, and Laura can help me manage. Is that better?”
Brendan grins, all of the tension leaving his body. “Yes. I can live with that.”
“I can do books from home, too, I guess, now that I think about it.”
He nods, taking a step forward. “Okay. That’s the plan.”
“After tonight.”
>
He freezes and his smile disappears. “Why after tonight?”
Stammering, I massage my belly unconsciously, looking anywhere but at Brendan, “Well, because Taryn and Laura are gone for the holidays! You know Taryn left almost a week ago, and Laura flew out yesterday to be with Dan’s folks in New Hampshire. She won’t be back until the twenty-sixth. Manny can’t do it by himself. We’re going to be slammed tonight! And Barb’s son is going to be there. She’d be crushed if I wasn’t there to meet him.” When I look at him, I’m surprised to see he’s smiling at me with love.
“Screw Barb’s son.”
“With or without a condom?” He melts into laughter and I hold out my hand. “Come here, please.”
He walks over and engulfs my hand with his much larger one. “I’m coming to work with you tonight.”
Sighing, I cry out, “All night? Why don’t you just pick me up afterward?”
He shakes his head back and forth once. “No. I will be there tonight. And I will be driving you there and driving you home. No arguments.”
“My husband is so dangerous.”
He chuckles. “I am very dangerous.”
“You want to show me how much?”
His eyebrows go up again. His smile is still there, but the expression in his eyes shifts as he says, thickly, “Yes, but I have to be gentle under the circumstances. So I will gently show you how dangerous I am.”
I grin as he pushes the ottoman out of his way. Frank Sinatra is singing Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas in the background and the room feels warm again. Brendan kneels between my legs, pushing them open with his hips as he raises the hem of my skirt. With ridiculous speed, I feel myself ache with need, longing to put the argument behind us. “No panties?” he murmurs. “You dirty girl. Close your eyes, Jacob.”
“Don’t say that! You’re killing my mood.”
“Is that so?” His head cocks to the side, forcing a lock of wavy, dark brown hair to fall forward. He takes my hand and lays it on the worn cotton of his favorite jeans, directly onto his growing bulge. “You don’t want this?”
I clench with desire, my eyelashes falling to look. “No, I don’t want that.”
Brendan’s eyebrows rise ever so slightly. “No?” He rubs my hand against the heat.
I lick my lips and shake my head. “Uh-uh.”
He reaches over and, as if I weigh nothing, yanks me to the edge of the cushion. My nakedness is pressed against the crotch of his jeans as his free hand gropes my temporarily enormous breasts.
“Take this off,” he commands, gesturing to my sweater with an annoyed look.
I slip it off, shaking out my long hair, tossing the sweater into a blue heap on the floor. He leans forward and comes so close to kissing me it’s excruciating. His lips brush lightly across mine. He pulls away as I lean in. I hear the surprising sound of my bra unsnapping under the skill of his fingers. He was successfully distracting me. My breasts tumble free, and he slides the flimsy fabric away from me, tossing it, his eyes on my naked mounds. Lifting each of them up into the warmth of his hands, he leans down to lick one nipple after the other. I watch his tongue move across the dusky pink crests with agonizing slowness. He returns to my right breast knowing it’s more sensitive than the other, more responsive and eager. He stays there a deliciously long while causing arousal to pool out from between my thighs. I forget all about my body-insecurities under his touch. The attentive sucking and gnawing on my flesh is the perfect mixture of pain and pleasure, just enough to make me moan his name.
He groans and slides a hand under my bunched up skirt, causing my breath to hitch. His fingers begin to work my folds, slipping inside as I throb. Tortured, I bring my hands up and claw into his hair, pushing his lips harder into my taut nipple, aching for more. All of the anger we’d felt is gone now. He bites a little harder and I moan again, louder this time, more desperate for him. Smiling against my skin, he rises to devour my mouth in a heated kiss, forcing my lips to open with his tongue. I taste it then: the milk.
“Oh my…what?! I’m–” He shoves his tongue in my mouth to stop me from thinking too much. I can’t help but respond to his sensuous kiss, the heat from his tongue and the way that he moves it, driving me senseless. Reaching, I stroke his erection and he groans into my mouth, his deep voice vibrating through me. He unzips his pants, tugging them all the way off over his naked feet, the Christmas tree’s lights casting the most beautiful glow on his muscles. With his eyes on me, he takes his length in his hand and licks his lips, putting it into my waiting palm with a gleam in his dark, blue eyes. I clasp him firmly, stroking up and down as he groans, his body tensing under the pleasure I’m giving.
I warn him on a moan as he pushes his hips forward, wanting in, “Easy now.”
With hunger in his eyes, he nods and strips off his sweater, positioning himself in front of me with his hands on my hips, his eyes on mine. “Bing Crosby again.”
I stop and listen. Silent Night has begun. I smile into my husband’s eyes. “Can I keep this moment forever. You in that light, with this music and… all of this. It’s so beautiful.”
“Just like my wife.”
I take his face in my hands and stare at him, the man I committed my life to, as he slowly brings our bodies together as one. His long eyelashes flutter closed as he feels the sweetness of how we fit so perfectly together. My hands float down to rest on the strength of his bare shoulders. Gently, he rocks in and out of me, easing his way in. We haven’t done this in awhile. Too long. The doctor said it was safe, but we were both nervous. The argument we had and the fear that lay behind it has done away with those nerves. It’s replaced them with a far greater need to be together, like this.
We gaze at each other and when he reaches in as deeply as he feels he should, I close my eyes and let my neck relax, my head falling back and my breasts and belly arched out toward him. He groans and moves in me as I feel myself becoming more swollen, and deliriously happy. He holds onto my lower back and presses his fingers into the sore places there around my spine, with so much strength and support that I raise my head, meet his eyes and whisper, “I trust you,” knowing full well that these words are a tonic to him and every other man alive.
He closes his eyes and grimaces with pleasure, groaning as he moves at a building beat, the movement easing the pressure inside me in such an amazing way. After awhile of the sweet back and forth of his filling me up, kissing me and releasing my lips to lower himself and suckle my breasts, I feel the pulse begin to throb deep inside, the release just around the corner. We moan together and soon he looks at me like he can’t hold back anymore. I nod that I want him to keep going, to feel what he’s feeling, completely and without holding back. He’s careful, and the way he thickens and moves is just the right amount of abandoned jerking of his body that I feel my damn burst inside me, too. I cry out and he ducks down to take my breast again into the heat of his mouth as the waves pulse through my core. He releases all of himself deeply into me and growls as I pull his head up and latch my lips onto his. When our heartbeats eventually slow, we open our eyes, and he murmurs into my neck, “Wow.”
I smile, nodding and stroking his hair. “Yeah.” Closing my eyes, I say on a sad groan, “I can’t believe I have to go to work soon. I wish the girls weren’t gone. More than anything I want to stay here with you tonight.” And I mean that. It’s Christmas Eve, what was I thinking?
He puts his forehead to mine, still resting inside me, pulling up the blanket around me to keep me warm. “I’ll be there with you.”
I don’t argue, but I know at some point tonight I will send him home to eat a good meal and come back to get me at closing time. Sitting at a bar, even my bar, from six o’clock to after two in the morning will just be too boring for him, as much as he would debate that. I don’t want to debate it, but Bobby will be working, and Mark’s in New York now. His friends from work have other plans, I’m sure. So he’d be stuck watching me for all that time, and that’s just silly.
At least here, he can watch T.V.
He separates to reach for his pants and check the time on his phone. Pulling my skirt down and the blankets tighter, I watch him read it and come up with a smile. “We’ve got two hours. Let’s order some take out.”
Before I even think about it, I’m blurting, “Garlic bread?” with excitement.
“You’re craving garlic bread? Alright, let’s see who’s open and serving Italian.” Typing into his phone, he says offhandedly, “We should go to Italy sometime.” I give him a look and he chuckles. “Spain?”
Nestling my lower back against the support-cushion again, I say on a contented smile, “Spain sounds wonderful.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Brendan
When do I start getting tired of looking at her? I hope never.
“Manny, since my wife won’t get me another beer, would you?”
Annie hears me from where she’s standing down the bar, wiping her wet hands on a long, black skirt, her halter (that I shouldn’t have told her to wear; she looks way too sexy) is nearly bursting at the seams from our baby and those amazing breasts he’s brought with him. Rolling her bright blue eyes, she calls over with fake annoyance, “I reserve the right to refuse service to people who don’t understand the allure of a dinner at home. You know, with vegetables or something.”
“Guinness has a lot of vitamins and minerals in it,” I argue with mock-seriousness. She casts her eyes away with a shake of her head, her long hair swaying in a high ponytail. She’s trying to get rid of me. She’s tried everything. Even the tactic where she exclaimed how boring it must be to stare at her. I just married the girl a few months ago.
Staring at her is all I want to do. Especially tonight.
“Stop looking at me like I’m dinner and go get some! You’re starving!” To the couple sitting at the bar in front of her, she says, without even a hint of humor, “That’s my brother. He’s got a thing for me.”
Capturing Hearts: Hearts Series Book 4 Page 9