“She won’t marry me,” Max says simply. “She only wants me to deliver the goods.”
“I don’t want you just for that.” Kari looks at him defiantly, but her eyes soften once her gaze meets his. “But you are pretty good at it.”
“Pretty good at it?”
“Really good at it,” she say, huskily.
“So get married,” I say, pushing the envelope. Something tells me this needs brought to a head and I’ll be the one to do it.
“Yeah, you two make it official and Jada and I will plan your wedding when we return.”
“You, Mr. Alexander, will do no such thing,” Kari says, her hand on her hip. “You aren’t touching any wedding I may or may not ever have.”
“See? She won’t marry me,” Max drawls.
“I didn’t hear her say that,” Cane says coyly.
Max shrugs and sighs. “Kari, will you marry me?”
She stiffens, but it’s so briefly that I’m not sure anyone else notices it. She looks at him and smiles, like she’s brushing it off. “Not today.”
MAX
I’m still sleepy, even though it’s nearly noon. I don’t normally sleep in, so the fact that I’m still laying on the sofa in the middle of the day is strange.
I watch Kari sit by the window, looking over the Strip. She has that faraway look on her face that I see a lot. She’s such a complicated person in a lot of ways. Outwardly, she’s this charismatic, beautiful woman that’s always in control. And privately, she’s quieter and a lot more sensitive than she lets on.
She wraps her arms around her knees and sighs. I wonder what she’s thinking, but I know the odds are against me finding out. She doesn’t open up much about things that matter and pushes me away when I try to get in. It’s frustrating, yet I find myself more determined to break her code with every shove.
“What ‘cha thinking about, sweetheart?”
A small smile touches her lips before she turns to look at me. “Nothing much.”
“You seemed to be thinking about something.”
“No, not really. Just wondering if Jada and Cane made it to Rome yet.”
I know she’s lying, but I let it slide. “Yeah, I don’t know. I haven’t heard from Cane.”
“They might not call. They are on their honeymoon.” She swings off the windowsill and walks towards me. “You know what happens on honeymoons, right?”
“I’ve heard stories,” I grin. “But I’ve never been on one.”
“Me either.”
“Want to go?”
Her lips fall for just a split second before recovering. “Not exactly. But I tell ya what: I’m all up for playing pretend.”
“You want to play pretend honeymoon?” I laugh, wrapping my arms around her waist.
She pulls my head into her stomach and sighs. “I can’t believe we pulled the wedding off. I mean, we planned a wedding in a few days and it went off without a hitch. That’s pretty cool.”
“We’re a good team.”
I wait for her to respond, to see if she reads between the lines.
“Yeah, we do. We’re like peas and carrots,” she grins.
I nip at her stomach, cupping her between the legs. “I’d liken it more to sex and candy.”
She grinds against my hand and I feel her heartbeat pick up pace under my cheek.
“Well, I’m happy to be candy if you’d like a taste.”
The walls come down over her eyes and I know she’s done talking about us. I’m going to have to say the things I want to say to her in the only way I know she’ll listen. Physically.
“I have no intentions on passing up an invitation like that.”
Relief washes over her. She grabs the hem of her shirt and starts to draw it over her head, but I stop her.
“I just want you to know that I love ya and not just for your candy, sweetheart.”
She blushes and presses a kiss against my lips. She doesn’t say it back, but half the time she doesn’t. And that’s okay because sooner or later, when she’s ready, she’ll come around.
I won’t have it any other way.
THE END
New Years Eve
CANE
The smell of burning pine and the sound of the fireplace crackling take over the entire cabin. Jada is curled up next to me, her head on my lap, sleeping. I couldn’t have created a more perfect New Year’s Eve.
I brush back her hair and watch her sleep. Ryan Seacrest is yapping away on the muted TV. The world waits for the ball to drop; I wait on my world to wake up.
She is so peaceful, so damn beautiful that I just stare at her. I committed every angle of her face to memory a long time ago, but I still can’t take my eyes off of her.
Her eyes lazily open and the corners of her mouth turn up. “Watching me sleep again?”
I nod, my grin growing wider with hers.
“I’m sorry,” she yawns and sits up beside me. “This place just makes me relax. It's like the world doesn't exist when we're here.” She stands and walks through the archway into the kitchen.
My father built the cabin in my late teens. Alexander Industries had really taken off and he needed a spot to get away from everything. I didn’t get it then, but I do now.
It’s pretty simple in design but the layout and features he did implement, such as the fireplace and a master loft, make it a perfect getaway. There is a wrap-around porch and a pond in the back. I always laughed when Dad would say he was going fishing because he just cast his line in and fell asleep. I think Max has fished here more than either of us.
After he passed away and Simon’s dad was arrested, I took Max on as a partner in the company. I gave him the keys to the building and came here for God knows how long. It’s all sort of a blur to me; I don’t even know what I really did for days on end. Maybe it was weeks, hell if I know. All I really remember is Max showing up and giving me one of his speeches, telling me it was time to grow up.
Thank fuck for that or I might still be sitting here.
Without her.
Jada comes back in carrying a glass of water and a beer. She hands me a Corona and sits beside me again, snuggling into my side. Damn it if she didn't fit against me like a puzzle piece.
“I brought some of the Moscato you had at the house. Did you see it?” I ask, kissing the top of her head.
“I did. I just needed some water. The fire makes me feel dried out.”
“Want me to put it out?”
“No. Please don’t.”
I wrap my arm around her shoulders and pull her even closer to me. The television cuts to the big apple. The crowds of people are jumping up and down and making a fool out of themselves.
“I’ve never understood why people stand out in the cold and act like idiots like that.”
She laughs. “They’re celebrating, Cane. They’re excited about the New Year. Who knows what a new year can bring?”
I consider this, a very basic idea that has never really occurred to me before. Before Jada, every year was another to get through. Plain and simple. But as I think back through the past few months, I get it.
“I see your point. But my life is about as perfect as it’s ever going to get,” I say, squeezing her tight.
“You think?”
“I know.”
“What do you want this coming year?” she asks.
“Like resolutions or whatever?”
“That or just what would you like to do this coming year? What would you like to see happen?”
I blow out a breath. “Resolutions are dumb as hell. Just because a calendar page turns doesn't mean you're all of a sudden gonna get some inspiration you've never had before. But what would I like to do? Just keep on going down the path I’m on, I guess. Keep you happy,” I wink as she looks at me, her eyes soft. “Keep Alexander Industries busy. That’s about it, I guess. What about you?”
She hesitates and it makes a lump form in my throat.
Did I miss something? Has she wanted me to do
something and I forgot about it?
“I know one thing you need to do,” I laugh, trying to put her at ease. “Keep Kari from killing Max. I need him.”
She giggles. “I don’t know what I can do about that.”
“So, what about you? Any resolutions or things you want to do?”
She places the water glass on the coffee table. “I do have one thing. But I don’t know how you’re going to take it.”
“Seriously?” I laugh. “I’ll take you anywhere you want. I’ll do whatever you want. You know that.”
“Okay,” she says, drawing out the last syllable. She hesitates, her eyes filled with worry. “Our house isn’t right. I know you put so much time and energy into it and I love it. I love it so much. But I need to make a couple of tweaks.”
“You didn’t know how I’d take that? I thought you were going to tell me you wanted to move across the country or go scuba diving or something.”
"Scuba diving?" she laughs.
"Yeah. I'm not feeling that. But," I wink, "I'd do it for you."
"Well, it's nothing like that.”
“Good. House stuff we can do. What do you want? To paint or something?”
“Kind of. I . . . Um . . .” She looks to the floor, her cheeks turning pink.
“Whatever you want, beautiful girl. Just consider it done.”
A glimmer shines in her eyes as she looks at me again. “Okay, then. We are adding two feet to Alexander House.”
She is crazy. She might be beautiful, but she knows nothing about construction. What the fuck is two feet going to do? If she wants to expand a wall or something, it’s going to have to be more than two fucking feet to do any good.
“Two feet isn’t going to get you any space, Jada. If you want more room, we can add on, although we are limited by available ground up there. I’ll have Max come by the beginning of the—”
“Cane.” Her voice is firm, but her eyes soft. It stops me in my tracks. “Stop thinking like a contractor.”
“Two feet is two feet. I don’t care if you’re a—”
Oh.
Fuck.
I shoot off the couch, knocking over her water glass. “Jada . . .” I say, my heart pounding in my chest. “Two feet. Are you talking measurements or quantities?”
I want to shake her, to have her just spit it the fuck out.
No, fucker. If it is what you think it is, shaking is no good.
She giggles nervously, watching me try to figure this out.
“Jada, talk to me.” My mouth is dry. I can’t fucking think. I grab my Corona and down the whole thing.
The little beauty just sits there and smiles.
She’s definitely talking quantities. Mother fuck. Mother. Fuck! I’m having a baby. Or she’s having it. Or we’re having it.
I squeeze my temples and shut my eyes, the room starting to spin.
I’m gonna pass out.
No, I’m not. Man the fuck up, Alexander. I can’t be freaking out right now. She needs me. The baby needs me.
Oh, hell. The baby. I’m having a baby!
I open my eyes. She’s watching me, her face falling. She twirls her ring on her finger and I can see her nerves starting to take over.
Well, I haven’t really given her anything to work with.
Yes, I have. That's why we are having this conversation!
I kneel down, taking her hands in mine. My hands shake as I rub my thumbs over her palms. “Jada, I’m kind of dying right now. Can you just tell me in plain fucking English? Please.”
“I’m pregnant, Cane.”
I bury my head in her lap and kiss our interlocked fingers over and over. I feel her bend forward and nuzzle the top of my head with her cheek.
Somehow, in the middle of all of the wicked fuckery that is my life, this brown headed, green-eyed angel appeared. Every time I think my life is perfect, is more than I ever dreamed it could be, she makes it a little better.
“I promise you I will take care of you and the baby,” I whisper, not really sure if she can even hear me. “I will love you both until the day I die. I will make sure you have everything you ever need and never feel alone.” I raise my head enough to kiss her stomach. As my lips touch her, tears began to sting my eyes.
If this scene was on TV, I’d laugh my ass off. But I don’t give a fuck. Growing inside the love of my life is a little human, half her and half me. I don’t deserve her or this, but I’ll be damned if I don’t make it my life’s mission to try.
“I’m your daddy,” I whisper, feeling a little dumb talking to her shirt. I don’t even know if babies can hear outside the womb, but it’s worth a shot. “And you have the most beautiful mommy in the entire world.”
I look up into her eyes. Seeing love in them, the tears flowing down her cheeks, make mine spill over, too.
“We are going to love you and probably make you rotten. If you’re a boy . . . Do we know if it’s a boy or girl?”
She laughs and shakes her head, wiping the tears off her face.
“If you’re a boy, we will go fishing and play Tonka Trucks in the sand and drive cars and watch football. I'll have Max teach you to fish and your Aunt Kari will take you hiking. And if you’re a girl, there will be . . . well, I don’t know what there will be. But there won’t be boys, that much I’m sure of.”
Jada laughs again and I can’t help but smile, although if she thinks I’m kidding she’s crazy. “Either way, we are going to love the shit out of you. Sorry. I probably shouldn’t say shit. As you can see, Daddy has a lot to learn. But I promise you and your mommy that I’ll figure it out.”
I stand and pull Jada up, too. “I love you, Jada Alexander.”
“And I love you, Cane. So much."
Read on for a glance at Max and Kari’s story,
The Perception, available now.
KARI
The box that Jada handed me felt light in my hands. It jingled as I turned it over, the contents that I had tucked away clamoring inside. It was the size of a shoebox but held memories that could fill a Mack truck. A sharp pain tore through my chest at the realization that my secrets had been in someone else’s hands.
I looked up at my sister. Jada’s long brown hair was in a knot at the top of her head, her round cheeks pink. She looked a lot like me, only my hair was a lighter shade of brown and falling across my shoulders. Our noses were identical, our eyes a bright shade of green. We had our mother’s dark complexion, although Jada was much more like her than me.
My eyes settled on her growing belly.
And, right now, she’s a lot more like Mom than I’ll ever be.
“Did you look inside?” I tried to keep my voice even. The thought of her possibly knowing the items lying buried at the bottom of the box made me queasy. At one point, I would have told her. I needed to tell her. But she was dealing with her then-husband, Decker, at the time and didn’t need more stress. There were days during her first marriage that I wondered if he would actually hurt her. So when I called her that day to tell her what was going on and she was already crying, I choked. I masked the pain from my voice and worked her through her problem, keeping my issues to myself.
Sadly, even to me, that was something I was pretty good at.
Our mom died when I was eleven, Jada fourteen. She was carrying a baby and died from an ectopic pregnancy. It was hard on all of us, but Jada seemed to pick up the pieces of herself faster than I did.
Dad had his secretary at his realtor office, Alice, come to the house a few days a week to help out. Alice was great and did our laundry, made cookies, tried to talk to us the best she could. But our mom was perfect and, as much as I loved Alice, she always seemed like a fill-in. I remember watching her mill around Mom’s kitchen one afternoon a few months after the funeral, Jada sitting at the table peeling an orange. Alice was making plans to take her to a play she wanted to see.
I sat there and sketched on a notepad, drawing little doodles of arrows, and felt so utterly alone. Why couldn’t I
go on like Jada? I just wanted to scream that everything was wrong, pound my fists on the table and yell at Alice to get out! To stop touching all my mom’s things.
But I couldn’t do that. When I had tried to bring it up to Jada at night, as we lay in our beds, she shushed me in the motherly way she had taken on. Told me that I didn’t need to be so hateful and that we were all doing the best we could. That we were in it together. And somehow, over the next few years, I mastered the art of being “in it together,” yet being absolutely alone.
I realized that saying how miserable I was only made Jada more miserable, too. So I learned to keep my mouth shut and deal, to not spread the pain. Let happy people be happy—why ruin that?—and find my happy where I could.
Bring your own sunshine. That was my motto. Pick your heart up off the floor when it was smashed, put it back together as best you can, and paste on a smile. Go on. It’s life. No one ever said it would be easy and if they did, they flat-out lied.
The sunlight streamed through the windows of Jada’s bedroom and I turned to look at my sister. The light made her even more radiant.
“I didn’t go through it or anything,” she said. “As soon as I saw the cassette tapes, I knew it was yours so I closed it back up.”
I released a heavy breath and walked to the window looking over the base of the mountain. Cane Alexander, Jada’s husband, had positioned their bedroom in AH, short for Alexander House and our nickname for their home based on the name Cane dubbed the project when he had it built, for optimum viewing pleasure. They could literally lie in bed and watch the lights twinkle below. He hadn’t missed a single detail, which was a testament to how much he loved my sister. Cane typically did things with wider brush strokes but, when it came to Jada, his attention to detail was relentless.
The thought of Cane being so caring and considerate to Jada was endearing. When I met him originally, he was the ultimate player and bad boy. I had been at Max’s house and Cane had swung by. He had given me a smirk and made more vulgar comments about his evening than I cared to remember. Max, on the other hand, was the opposite; he was kind, thoughtful, and unfailingly sweet. Although Max’s antics in the sheets outdid the tales Cane was telling, he would never say that. Not in front of me, anyway—it wasn’t his style.
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