by Chelle Bliss
I glance toward the doorway again. “I’ll be back. So help me God…”
“He’s such a worrywart,” Daphne says as I push through the front door and leave.
I pull on the door to the bakery, but it’s locked and the lights are off. “Fuck,” I groan as I peer up at the sky and close my eyes.
I storm back into the bar, ignoring my mother as she calls out to me and head into the office to grab my keys. There’s no text from Tilly, but I send her one as I head toward the parking lot.
Me: Where are you?
I stare at my phone as I walk toward my car, hoping she’ll reply, but she doesn’t. The message doesn’t even change to read. There’s radio silence, and her car’s missing.
“Angelo,” Daphne calls out from the doorway as I climb into my car. “Where are you going?”
“She’s gone.” I slam my door, not needing to say anything else.
My hands are shaking as I turn the key in the ignition. I place my phone in my lap and pull out onto the street, heading toward her place. To add to my aggravation, traffic is a bitch, and there’s an accident on Western Avenue.
A half hour later, I pull in front of her apartment building. Before I’m out of the car, Roger steps outside and closes the main door.
“Where is she?” I stalk toward the entrance.
Roger crosses his arms, and his nostrils flare. “She doesn’t want to see you.”
I narrow my gaze. “I don’t understand.”
Roger raises an eyebrow and doesn’t move. “I should really kick your ass.”
My head jerks back, because I’m confused as fuck. “For what?”
“You hurt her.” He widens his stance, puffing out his chest.
My heart races as I drag my hand through my hair, still not understanding what’s going on. “How?” I take a step forward, but he puts out his hand and blocks me.
He ticks his head toward the street. “Just go.”
I throw out my arms, because there’s no way in hell I’m leaving until I know exactly how I fucked up. “I’m not going anywhere. Not until you tell me what the hell is going on.”
“You know what you did.”
This guy is cryptic as fuck. I didn’t do a goddamn thing. I worked all day, and then the girls came back. Nothing else happened.
“Man, come on. Help me out here. I’m totally at a loss. Just let me talk to Tilly.”
He shakes his head. “I thought you were better than this. I never would’ve let you near her if I knew you were such an asshole and a player.”
Player? I draw my eyebrows together. “I am not and have never been a player.”
The only person I’m seeing and am completely in love with is Tilly. There’s been no one else in my life.
Roger grunts.
“Tilly!” I move forward, and Roger hits me square in the chest. I look down at where our bodies are touching, and I tighten my fists at my sides. “I’m being nice because you’re her best friend, man, but let there be no doubt… You won’t stop me from seeing her.”
“Why don’t you go bother the other woman you’re seeing?”
I widen my eyes as I stagger backward. The other woman? Michelle. Fuck. My stomach drops, and my heart rate speeds up. I cover my heart, feeling like someone’s sucker-punched me right in the gut.
“I’m not seeing anyone else, Roger. There’s only Tilly. If you’re talking about Michelle, she’s a family friend and nothing more.”
He sneers. “Tilly saw you kiss her.”
My muscles tense. “On the fucking cheek, man. I’ve known her since I was in elementary school, and she’s moving out of state.” I close my eyes for a second and try to control my anger. “I was saying goodbye to her.”
He shakes his head. “That’s not how Tilly saw it.”
I point toward the door, but I don’t move. “Let me explain.”
“No. I think it’s best if you leave.”
I peer down at the ground, knowing I can’t just go. That’s not how I’m wired, and I’m not going to let whatever Tilly thinks she saw fester until it’s an unhealable wound.
“I’m not leaving.”
“Then we have a problem,” he says as his top lip curls.
“Roger.” I stare him straight in the eyes. “I love Tilly.”
“Hmm,” he mutters, raising an eyebrow.
I push up my sleeves, determined to see her even if I have to spill my guts to a virtual stranger. There’s no one more important in Tilly’s life than Roger, and if he has to be the first one to hear the words, so be it.
“I mean it. I love her. Not just as a friend, but as so much more. I haven’t felt this way about another person since Marissa died. I know it’s crazy.” I rub the back of my neck, wishing I were saying these words to Tilly and not her brother-in-law. “I know it’s fast and probably doesn’t make much sense to you. But Tilly and I were meant to be. We’re fated. It’s destiny. She’s captured me completely. I freaking love her, Roger. I don’t throw that word around without meaning it either. I love Tilly!” I yell the last words, hoping like hell she can hear me.
He turns and glances toward her apartment. “She can’t hear you.” He drags his hand down his face and groans. “What a fucking mess.”
“Please,” I beg. “I need to talk to her.”
“Listen.” He kicks at the ground, finally relaxing his posture. “She’s fragile.”
“I know,” I whisper because I understand everything she feels so completely it’s ridiculous.
“I’ve known Tilly for a decade, and the only other man she’s ever been this crazy about was my brother.” He shakes his head slowly and stares at me. “If I let you in, you have to promise me you’re going to love her hard, be faithful forever, and always protect her.”
“I swear. I’d never hurt her,” I promise because I’d put any man who made Tilly cry in the ground.
You’re that asshole right now, Angelo. I grimace, knowing how badly I fucked up.
“If you’re playing her or lying to me, I will hunt you down.”
I nod quickly. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”
He stares off into the distance and sighs. “She’s going to have my balls for this.”
“She won’t. I need to talk to her. I want her to know what she saw was nothing.”
He rubs his neck and steps to the side. “Make shit right. Tell her how you feel. She needs to hear it.”
I reach for the door handle and stop, turning to face Roger. “I will. I swear.”
He juts his chin toward the building. “Go get her. She’s in her bedroom.”
I take the steps two at a time, holding my breath the entire way until I’m inside her apartment. Before I reach her bedroom door, I stop and peer into the room. Her body’s draped across the bed, and she’s crying.
My heart breaks as I push open the door.
“Roger?” she asks without turning around.
I step inside and close the door, ready to set shit right.
23
Tilly
I bury my face in the crook of my arm and close my eyes. “Go away.”
His footsteps are heavy on the hardwood floor, but I don’t dare look up. He’s gutted me enough for one day. What the hell was Roger thinking, letting Angelo upstairs? He promised me he’d make sure Angelo went away.
The bed dips next to me. “Tilly.” Angelo’s voice is soft and sweet, but I know better. “Look at me, baby.”
“Don’t ‘baby’ me.” I bury my face deeper into the comforter, refusing to shed another tear. I’m too angry to be sad. I’d slap him across the face if I could look at him without bursting into tears.
“I know what you saw, but it’s not what you think.”
“I think you were touching someone who isn’t just a friend.” My voice is muffled by the blanket.
“That’s Michelle. Daphne’s best friend since elementary school. She worked at the bar up until a few weeks ago. She moved to California and just stopped in.”
Stopped in and had her hands all over my man. Not just her hands, but her lips too. There’s a difference between a hug you give to your friends and one you give to someone who’s more intimate. “She’s more than a friend, Angelo. I’m not blind. Did you sleep with her?”
“Never,” he says quickly.
“Kiss her?”
“No.”
“Touch her in a way I don’t touch Roger?”
He pauses for the first time, making my point for me.
“She’s more than a friend, then.” I swallow down the lump in my throat and take a deep breath, trying to calm myself down.
“I never loved Michelle.”
“What’s that have to do with anything?”
Angelo’s eyes always express so many emotions and I want to look at him, but I can’t. I know I look like an idiot. I still have my head buried, and my eyes are puffy and swollen from crying. I’m the epitome of a hot mess.
“I made love to you. I said you’re mine. Those aren’t things I do with friends. I love you, Tilly.”
The pain in my chest shifts and is replaced by a dull ache. “Say it again,” I tell him, because hearing him say those words is everything to me.
“Sweetheart.” He touches my back so softly, I almost don’t feel his hand. “Look at me.”
“I can’t.” I sniffle. “I’m a mess.”
He slides his hand under my stomach and pulls me upright. I look down, because I know my face isn’t pretty, but he touches my chin and forces my eyes to his.
“I love you, Tilly,” he says again, gazing at me with the softest eyes.
My vision blurs again, and my stomach flips. “I love you too, Angelo,” I whisper as my bottom lip trembles.
I never thought I’d say those words again. Never thought I’d feel this way again about anybody besides Mitchell. It’s unexplainable and completely undeniable, mixed with a hint of crazy.
He slides his hand across my cheek, and my spine tingles. I melt into his touch as he cups my face. “There’s no one else in this world for me except you. I’m sorry I hurt you. I’m sorry for causing you pain. I’m sorry for the tears on your beautiful face,” he says as he wipes my cheek with his thumb. “I never want to cause you pain.”
I blink through the tears, letting them fall. “I’m sorry I jumped to conclusions. I was just so hurt.” I grab his hand that’s resting on my knee. “I love you, Angelo.”
His head dips forward, and I close my eyes, waiting for his lips to touch mine. “Promise you’ll talk to me first before you run away.”
I open my eyes and stare into his. “Are there more women in your past?”
“There’s only you, and you’re my future,” he says before he kisses me, stealing every last bit of my breath and taking my entire heart too.
I climb into his lap as he wraps his arms around my body, holding me tight. There’s something about the way he holds me that makes me feel more protected than I ever have before.
There’s comfort in his touch and strength in his kiss, and it’s completely intoxicating.
I reach down and palm his stiff cock. “I want you,” I tell him.
His eyes widen. “Right now?”
I nod slowly and start rocking against his jeans, dry-humping him. “We can just do this too,” I tell him, teasing the fuck out of him because I know I’m going to get my way.
He lifts me into the air, placing my feet on the floor, and stands in front of me. His fingers are at his zipper, and he motions to me with his head. “Undress,” he tells me. “Now.”
I push down my skirt, wanting to climb the man like a tree and mount him. I watch in awe and amazement as he pushes his pants to the floor and that beautiful cock of his makes its glorious appearance.
As soon as my clothes are off and he’s naked enough to fuck, I use all my body weight to tackle him. “I’m not going to be gentle, and there’s going to be nothing slow about this,” I tell him as I slide my throbbing pussy against his cock.
“Condom,” he whispers.
I put my finger over his lips, needing to feel his bare skin against mine again. “I’m clean,” I say, feeding him the line he gave me last time.
In all the years I was with Mitchell, we never used birth control, and never once was my period late. The doctor said I’d need medical intervention to get pregnant, so fucking Angelo with no protection isn’t an issue.
I rear up, lifting my lower half above him using my knees. He gazes up at me as he grips my hips, stopping me. “I’m yours, Tilly,” he says before I slam my pussy down on his long, thick shaft.
He gasps, writhing underneath my weight as I buck, riding him hard and rough. I straighten my back and grind my clit against his hard flesh, driving myself closer to orgasm.
“Tell me again,” I say as I lift myself up, waiting to hear the words.
His fingers dig into my hips, trying to make me move, but I’m not budging. “I’m yours,” he repeats as he tightens his grip on me.
I ride him hard, fast, and unrelenting as I steady myself against his body, using my fingertips to balance against his ridiculously hard pecs. I gasp when he lifts his ass upward, meeting my thrust and driving his cock deeper.
“You’re mine,” he grunts, flipping the script as he pounds into me from underneath. His hands are still on my hips, controlling and directing my movements. “Always mine.”
24
Angelo
Tate crawls into my lap and curls her tiny body against my chest. “Daddy.” She peers up at me with her big blue eyes. “Is Tilly going to be our new mom?”
There’s no manual for these types of questions, but there sure as hell should be. There’re a million manuals on feeding, sleeping, and ways to raise your kids without killing them in the process. But I haven’t found anything that has taught me how to deal with the death of a parent and finding a new love that’s worth a damn.
I kiss her hair and inhale the sweet strawberry scent of her baby shampoo. “Baby, your mom will always be your mom.”
She blinks a few times as her lips purse. “I know, but what’s Tilly going to be?”
I hold her tightly, wishing I could keep her this size forever. “What do you want her to be?”
I’ve learned a lot about life from my kids. They have an enduring ability to see the good in all things, no matter how dark shit gets. They view everything differently from adults, even relationships. Their minds aren’t cluttered with hurt from the past, even though they’ve lost more than most at their young ages.
Tate pulls at her bottom lip as she stares at me. “Is she going to live with us?”
Tate’s getting way ahead of herself, but I can’t deny I’ve thought about what the future’s going to hold. We haven’t talked about if we’re going to live together or get married. We’re still too new for me to pull the trigger on something so big.
If it were just me, I’d have no issue jumping the gun and marrying Tilly, making sure she’s mine forever. But with the kids…everything is hard. I have to think ten steps ahead and make sure I’m not going to fuck up their little minds.
“Not yet.”
Her eyebrows furrow. “Why?”
“Tilly has her own place, baby.”
“Can she sleep over sometimes?”
I laugh softly. “Do you want her to?”
Tate nods quickly. “She’s fun.”
“And I’m not?”
“Well.” She glances away. “Sometimes you are.”
I try not to let her words slay me, even though there’s a bite to them. I know I haven’t been the most fun parent the last few years. My head’s been elsewhere, and my heart’s been broken. Tilly’s like a breath of fresh air carrying cupcakes and smiles, while I’m the grumpy bastard who doesn’t always want to have a tea party.
“You’re right.” I look down at her. “She is fun.”
“She and I can play dress-up and eat cupcakes.”
There’s the food. There’s always food on her mind. I’d love fo
r Tilly to be here, playing with the kids. They need a woman’s touch and love. No matter how hard I try, I can’t be all things at once. I’ve tried to be the mother and the father, but it’s nearly impossible.
I don’t think my kids are lacking in love. My parents and siblings shower them with so much affection, they never wonder if they’re loved.
“Do you think we can have cupcakes for breakfast when Tilly sleeps over?”
“Cupcakes are dessert.”
“Cupcakes can be anything we want,” she tells me like she’s the one in charge.
“We’ll talk about it when she’s here.”
She nods. “I really like Tilly, Daddy. Grandma likes her too.”
“Oh yeah?” I raise an eyebrow.
Tate’s probably heard more than she should have hanging around with my mother—and especially from Daphne.
“Grandma said she’s good for you.”
Good isn’t even the right word to describe everything Tilly is to me. She is better than good. She makes me want to be my best self. She’s reminded me that I still have the ability to love. I thought I’d be alone for the rest of my life, never meeting anyone who understood my pain until Tilly came into my life.
“She is, Tate.”
“She reminds me of Mommy. She’s always happy,” Tate tells me.
Marissa was never without a smile on her face. She would light up a room. All eyes would be on her, trying to soak up her goodness. Tate has the same gift, and every day I see so much of Marissa in her. It comforts me to know I have a piece of her with me always.
“I’m happy too.”
Tate laughs. “No, you’re not.” She twists her hands in her lap and glances down. “You are now, but you haven’t been.”
I feel like a shit father, but I’m not the type of guy that can hide my feelings. I tried my best around the kids. Did everything I could to shelter them from my rage and hurt, but clearly, I wasn’t as good at it as I thought I was.
I lift her chin, needing to see her cute little face. “I’m sorry, Tate.”
There’s been so much guilt since Marissa died. The sadness is always there, but the guilt sometimes can be suffocating. I know I could’ve done better. I should’ve been able to focus more on the kids and not on my sadness, but it took me a long time to get past the anger and hurt. Longer than I had expected or wanted.