by D. B. James
Nothing has helped.
It’s as if this baby is letting me know it doesn’t care for the motion of the water.
Seriously though, I won the husband lottery. From the horror stories I see friends posting online nowadays, I’ll be honest, a part of me feared Rhys may one day turn into one of those losers, but if this vacation has taught me one thing, it’s that Rhys will do anything for me. He loves me without a doubt in his mind. He’s mine and I’m his; it’s as simple as that.
After the first half hour on the boat, I begin to find my sea legs, and my stomach starts to agree with me. The nausea never comes at the same time of day twice, and I’ve been keeping a journal in my purse to show my OBGYN when I meet with her once we’re back stateside.
“Rhys?”
“Hm?”
I love how I can just bring up whatever it is I want to talk about now. After feeling scared to bring up the topic of children for nothing, I now know Rhys is open to discuss whatever, and if he isn’t, he’ll tell me.
“I’ve been thinking.”
“Oh shit, is this going to be terrible news? Normally bad news starts with, ‘I’ve been thinking.’”
Smacking him on the arm, I lean into his side. “No, you goof. It’s not bad news.” His hand comes up and starts massaging my hair as I lean farther and farther into him. “I’ve been thinking maybe we could hold off on going to Venice for now, spend a few extra days on Capri, and afterward go back to Rome again until our flight leaves—or do you have to see Venice on this trip?”
“Honestly?” he asks.
“Um, yeah, always.”
“I didn’t want to go to Venice, I just thought you did. The only thing I wanted to go there for was to take a ride on the vaporetto because I heard it has the best views of the city, a million times better than a gondola ride, and bonus—no cheesy singing.”
“Other than St. Mark’s Basilica, there’s not much I want to see there. Yeah, I think it’d be cool to see the city, but we could save the hotel money if we cancel now since we’re still seven days from checking in, and this way we’ll see more of what Capri and Rome have to offer.”
“Deal,” he says while shaking my hand. “I’d normally seal it with a kiss, but it’ll have to wait until you’re able to brush your teeth.”
With a comment like his, I can’t help but laugh.
Today is the day we’ve been waiting for—the day we tour the Blue Grotto. Normally I wouldn’t be excited to go tour a cave, and actually I’d probably never do it—closed-in spaces freak me out—but this is different.
It’s still a cave, yes, but it’s much more, way above the ordinary.
The Blue Grotto is a sea cave where sunlight passes through an underwater cavity and shines through the seawater, creating a blue reflection that illuminates the entire cavern. When I was a young girl, I read about this cave, and I’ve wanted to visit it for as long as I can remember. Of course, back then I didn’t know how we’d have to access the cave.
The entrance is scaring me a tiny bit.
There’s only one way to enter: in a rowboat, lying flat on our backs while a skipper rows up into the small opening. Did I mention the boats are extremely small? And it’s out on the open ocean? The ocean with sharks? And killer whales?
Yeah, I’m not ready for the entrance.
But I genuinely want to see what’s inside.
I know pictures don’t do it justice, and I need to see the beauty with my own eyes. I’ll suck it up, get in the dangerous boat, row out into the open ocean—with sharks and who knows what else—and enjoy the fuck out of the Blue Grotto. My skipper better give me an extra couple of minutes inside—I don’t care how many people are stuck outside in rowboats waiting to get in.
“Rhys?”
“Yeah babe?” he calls back from the bathroom, where I heard the shower shut off a moment ago.
“Will you request another song from our skipper, once he’s leading us out of the grotto?” I ask.
“Um, yeah, sure. Why?”
“Maybe he’ll stop rowing and spend more time inside, give us a couple more minutes.” Instead of merely asking him to row slowly to allow us more time, maybe if we play to his ego, telling him his singing is wonderful and we’d like another song, he’ll stay inside longer. No one ever said my thinking was always logical.
He’s shaking his head at me as he walks out of the bathroom wearing only a towel. “You’re funny. How about this: since we’re staying here a few extra days, we go back again tomorrow…and then next day…and the day after. What I’m saying is, we’ll go as many times as your heart desires. I’ll do anything to make you happy. If going inside the Blue Grotto makes you happy, it’s yours.”
“You’d go there every day if it’s what I wanted?” Lying back on the bed, I sigh into the pillows as I watch him getting dressed for the day. His abs flex as he stretches his arms over his head before grabbing his shirt and throwing it on, covering up all his golden skin. What a shame.
“If you keep eye-fucking me, we won’t be going anywhere today, but yes, I’ll go every single day if you want,” he says as he drops his towel and begins putting on his board shorts. “Get up, Tiger Lily, toss on one of your sexy bikinis and a cover-up, and let’s go. If you want to see the inside at its bluest, we need to be in a boat waiting in line by noon. Come on, hot stuff, up and at ’em.”
“Aye aye, captain.”
We’re heading out of the hotel fifteen minutes later, and it turns out it’s a good thing we arranged almost everything before this morning and didn’t wait to purchase our tickets for the 9 AM charter. It will take us closer to the cavern, where we’ll purchase our tickets to enter the cave. Judging by the size of the crowd, I don’t think half of these people will be seeing the beautiful sight today.
We make our way through the crowd easily, give our tickets to an attendant, and swiftly board the charter, a whole ten minutes before its scheduled for takeoff.
“I’m excited, but nervous. You?”
“You’ll be fine. There’s nothing to worry about. The entrance is the only time you’ll be lying down, babe. The rest will be easy as pie.” His hands begin stroking my hair, gently massaging my scalp as he continues to speak words of encouragement. “Just think, our lovebug is touring this with us. It’s one lucky lovebug to be an international traveler already.”
“Luckier to have you as a father.” Pressing a kiss to his cheek, I lay my head on his shoulder, and we spend the next two hours wrapped up in each other’s arms, watching the ocean fly by.
It’s remarkable.
When the boat pulls up to the part of Capri where the cavern is, we disembark swiftly. Before I know it, Rhys has our tickets purchased and we’re stepping into a rowboat with a skipper.
“Good morning. I see from your tickets you paid extra for just the two of you to be in this boat, correct?” the skipper asks.
Peering up at Rhys, I see the guilt written across his face. He did.
“Yes, it’s our honeymoon. My bride is excited to be here, and I wanted it to be extra special.” He clears his throat before glancing over at me again. “I thought it’d make you less nervous, Tiger Lily.” The last part comes out as a near whisper, like he doesn’t want our skipper to know.
“Ah, your honeymoon? Congratulations on your wedding. This is exciting, no?”
“Yes, it is exciting. We’ve been in your country for a couple of weeks now and we love it here,” I offer.
“Americans?” he asks.
“Yes, we are,” we answer in unison.
“Get in, get in. We’ll row fast to get in line. You’ll want to be inside before the high noon sun fades. The best light to see it by is between the hours of noon and 2 PM. Come, come, let’s get going, you lovebirds. Anjelo will take you inside and sing you songs of love while you take in all the beauty surrounding you. I will bless your marriage with my songs.”
Anjelo, it seems, is quite the character. He regales us with stories of his family while h
e rows us out to the cave’s entrance. He’s in the middle of telling us about how he met his wife, Nina, when she walked into his father’s limoncello shop. It was love at first sight for both of them. They met when they were eleven and married at eighteen; his story reminds me of ours.
Squeezing Rhys’ hand, I gaze up into his tawny eyes and grin. He knows what I’m saying without me having to voice the words.
To my surprise, the line of rowboats at the entrance isn’t long at all. Anjelo informs us it’s maybe a fifteen-minute wait.
“Lie back now, we’ll be going inside in a few minutes. Once we’re inside, you may sit up, and I’ll sing to you, yes?”
We both say yes in unison.
“Excited?” Rhys asks me.
“You have no idea.”
“Yeah, I do. Your excitement has spread from you to me,” he says as he sends a wink my way.
“Ugh. Rhys, why must you wink at me now? Now, when I can’t do anything about it? You know what it does to me.” The bastard.
“I know now—well, I always knew. You claimed you hated it, but deep down you loved it—and you still do. It makes you want to jump my bones. Admit it, Tiger Lily.”
Instead of answering him, I lie back, the sun shining brightly, causing me to close my eyes. Sighing, I squeeze his hand. The big jerk.
“I’m not admitting to wanting to jump your bones in front of company, Rhys. Stop winking at me in public places.”
Anjelo lets loose a robust round of laughter. “You young lovebirds remind me of my Nina and me. Never lose the spark—it’s what I call our magic. Do you two want to have children someday?”
“We’re pregnant,” Rhys lets out before I can utter a word.
“We must celebrate!” Anjelo exclaims. “I’ll sing you extra songs once we’re inside—we can spare a few extra minutes in all the blue beauty to celebrate you bringing a baby into the world.”
“Oh, thank you. It sounds lovely. We’ve been on our honeymoon for a few weeks now, and we decided to try for a baby. I’ve been sick, fatigued, and of course, my monthly is late. We know we’re expecting without taking a test.”
Anjelo starts whistling as he rows us closer and closer to the small opening of the cave. Once we’re inside, he starts singing a lively song, one full of mirth. We both sit up and what I’m surrounded by leaves me speechless—utterly speechless.
The beauty takes my breath away.
My heart lodges up in my throat, and the air in my lungs feels heavy.
I’ve never before witnessed something this magnificent.
This…impressive.
I can see why it’s believed to have been a temple for a sea nymph.
On our second time around the cave, Rhys grabs me around the waist, pulls me in close, and kisses me breathless.
“What’s that for?” I ask.
“I wanted to touch the most beautiful thing I see at the moment, and I did. It’s you, Averill. You’re my Blue Grotto, my Sistine Chapel, my Trevi Fountain, my Pantheon, my every flavor of gelato. What I’m saying is, you’re my everything. I’m the most blessed man on the planet because you were sitting in that Starbucks. If you hadn’t been, I’m not sure our paths would’ve crossed again. I’ve loved you since I was eight years old, and I’ll still be loving you when I’m a hundred. Thank you, Averill, for loving me.”
Wiping the tears streaming down my face, I grab Rhys tighter. “I love you, you big goof, more than anything else in the whole world, and I should be the one thanking you for loving me.”
Bending down, he places another gentle kiss upon my lips before we lie back, preparing to leave the cave and greet the rest of our lives.
Five years later
Standing at the base of the fountain, I watch as Alixandria Aideen Gallhagar tosses a handful of coins into the gorgeous bubbling sapphire blue waters.
“Mama, up,” she exclaims from her spot next to me. Heaven forbid she ask her daddy to pick her up; it’s always mama, but that’s okay. I love my lovebug with my whole soul, and Rhys is off to the side buying her a treat.
“When do I get to meet brother?” she asks.
Yes, I’m pregnant in Italy, again.
“In a few short weeks.” Keegan Brantley Gallhagar will be here in six weeks, to be exact.
The last time I stood near this fountain, I wished to one day come back with my family. Here we stand years later, in front of the Trevi Fountain. The legend came true for us.
When we left Italy after our honeymoon was over, I was pregnant beyond a reasonable doubt. No doctor was needed to confirm it for us. We both knew in our hearts we were leaving the country as a trio instead of a duo.
Alix was born eight months later, kicking and screaming her way into the world. She came in with a roar—was there ever any doubt?
Our angel has midnight curly hair—no idea where she got those curls from—and eyes the color of the wheat fields as they greet the dawn sun. She has her daddy’s strength and her mama’s boldness. She’s the perfect combination of the two of us, and there’s no doubt in my mind she’s always going to be a firecracker.
“When did you get this heavy, Princess Merida?” Her favorite movie at the moment is Brave. She’s like her mama in this aspect as well, insisting we call her by her “true” name.
This child, I swear.
She chooses to ignore me and instead spots Rhys walking back toward us with his hands full of gelato. Sighing, I put her down because knowing her, she wants to run to greet him and maybe grab her cool creamy treat.
Rhys is giggling at something she said as she takes off at a brisk pace back toward the fountain.
“Can I swim in here, Daddy? Pwease.”
“Now, now, Princess Merida, we’ve told you the rules about this fountain several times over the last couple of days. No little girls swimming in the fountain.”
She puffs out her bottom lip at him, giving him the perfect pout.
I have to turn away to hide my grin.
Sending up a silent prayer, I ask for her brother not to be such a spitfire. One carbon copy is enough, at least for now. Maybe our third child can be another hell raiser, but I’d love for the baby boy who’s on his way to be slightly easier to handle.
“What’s running through your beautiful head, Tiger Lily?”
“Oh, nothing much, just praying our son isn’t half the handful she is. I made a bargain though…I told the powers that be they could make the third one another hellion.”
Laughing, he reaches down and grasps my hand in his as we stand there taking in the beauty all around us, knowing we have a truly blessed life.
Wedding from Rhys’ POV
From the moment her whiskey depths met mine again at a table in Starbucks, I knew this day would happen.
What I didn't know?
How utterly breathtaking Averill would appear in her dress. The moment the “Wedding March” started playing and she and Stu came around the flowered bend, my eyes filled up with tears.
Tears because of her sheer beauty.
Tears because of the love for me shining off her in waves.
Tears because I’m one lucky bastard to get to call her mine.
If you’d met me two years ago, I would’ve laughed in your face if you mentioned the word marriage in reference to me. My life was…complicated at best, but the moment Averill came crashing back, everything changed.
She makes me a better man.
When we were kids playing around at recess, I can remember one specific day like it was yesterday. It was the day she insisted we start calling her Tiger Lily. She wore a pair of leather moccasins with a denim overall jumper skirt, a white t-shirt, and a necklace made out of feathers. She was determined to forever be known as Tiger Lily. By the end of the school year, her shoes had seen better days and the teachers insisted on calling her Averill again, but I never stopped calling her by her new name. I liked the way it bonded us together; our quirky nicknames made us unique. She was determined to be renamed, and all I want
ed to do from that day forward was legally rename her one day.
And now I am.
Unchecked tears are streaming down my cheeks by the time Averill makes it to me at the end of the aisle. Without saying a word, I gently grasp her hand in mine. Seeing the tears falling from her eyes makes me want to cry more tears of happiness. Before tearing my gaze away from hers, I silently mouth, “I love you.”
I can’t believe we’re finally getting married.
“Who gives this woman to be lawfully wed?” asks the minister.
“Her mother and I do,” replies Stu. As he says the words, Averill lets out a tiny gasp, almost like she can’t believe her father actually walked her down the aisle.
She briefly releases my hand to grasp both of her father’s while he lifts her veil, places a kiss upon her cheek, turns her slightly toward me, and places her hand in mine once again.
He’s letting her go and giving her to me.
Together we greet our future.
She’s my forever.
I’ll treasure her every day.
My everything.
I’ll never let a day go by without telling her how much she means to me.
My always.
My true love.
The End
Acknowledgements & Shit
By now you should know I like telling a little backstory on how my novels come together.
I’m going to do things a little differently with Averill. Why? Because y’all know her backstory. You know how Rhys and Averill came to be, so I don’t want to retell the same story. Instead, I’ll use this section to answer a couple of questions…
Brant’s reasoning for withholding the letters is coming—in his novel. I’m currently writing it. Trust me, you don’t want to miss the end of The Secrets series. Brant has a whopper of a secret!
Tessa’s ex-husband. All will be revealed in Brant as well, because—SPOILER ALERT—“Ace” is her hero.
I left out the resolution between Brant/Rhys because it needs to happen from Brant’s POV. For his story to be told, I needed to leave you hanging when it comes to their friendship. I hinted at them being okay in the epilogue, but you’ll get all the answers in Brant’s novel.