Love You Now (Book Two: Love Hurts Duet)

by M. Robinson

  Home of the Panthers.

  We spent the last hour at this damn press junket, with Bailey in my arms, sittin’ by his side.

  Smilin’.

  Laughin’.

  Pretendin’.

  Question after question was thrown in his face. The more personal it was, the better the ratings were. It was frustratin’ to say the least. Strangers invadin’ your privacy as if they had the right to.

  Carolina Panthers’ Quarterback Jackson Pierce was God to these people, not to mention the whole world. Talk about pressure to play the part of the supportive, lovin’ wife. With our adorable three-and-half-year-old. We were livin’ the American dream as a family.

  The last photoshoot we had scheduled on the press tour was for Home and Garden Magazine. They came out to our house. Took some pictures, interviewed us, includin’ Bailey, and recorded some video of our daily life for their social media. We were portrayed as the perfect couple, the ultimate family goals.

  Except, I caved. I couldn’t take the pressure of portrayin’ somethin’ we weren’t. My panic attacks were gettin’ worse and more frequent. I had a massive one in my walk-in closet when I was gettin’ dressed to head downstairs and play my role in all this. Jackson found me on the floor in the corner with my head in between my legs, desperately tryin’ to catch my next breath. Flippin’ the hell out.

  That was only two months ago.

  Now here we were, doin’ it all over again...

  Lights.

  Camera.

  Action.

  With no end in sight.

  “Jackson, can you tell us about your marriage to Mrs. Pierce? How do you keep the spark alive?” a reporter for CNN asked.

  Just breathe, Harley. In and out. Don’t. Stop. Breathin’.

  Jackson reached for my hand, bringin’ it up to his mouth. He kissed it, smilin’ only at me. Fully aware I was dyin’ inside, he extended the gesture to comfort me. Not because he was tryin’ to show the reporters we were somethin’ we weren’t.

  I smiled back, and Bailey giggled. Lovin’ how her daddy adored her momma.

  “I worship the ground my wife walks on. Have since we were kids,” he stated, still gazin’ solely at me.

  “That’s right!” another interviewer exclaimed, catchin’ both our attentions to have the chance to ask the next question. “You guys have known each other all your lives. Your relationship started when you were young, correct?”

  He nodded. “Since the first time I tripped her when we were in her diapers, and she got back up and kneed me in the balls.”

  Everyone laughed.

  His eyes still hadn’t wavered from mine, like they were suddenly fused together.

  Was he sayin’ this to me or them?

  More reporters yelled out, tryin’ to get their inquiries answered.

  Nonetheless, we couldn’t tear our stares off one another.

  What was happenin’?

  “Can you tell us about your first kiss?”

  He softly smiled, reminiscin’ right in front of my eyes.

  “She was my first kiss. We were each others actually. Harley is the only woman I’ve ever kissed.”

  My eyes widened, caught off guard entirely. I didn’t even know that.

  Was he lyin’ for the cameras, or was he tellin’ me the truth?

  “In fact, it was after my mother’s funeral,” he shared with everyone, his intense glare only focused on me. As if he was relivin’ it right then and there. “I was twelve years old, and she was eleven. I went up to the roof of my childhood home, needing to get away from everyone. I could never hide from her, she always found me. Our souls are connected like that.”

  I swallowed hard, slightly gaspin’. Hangin’ on his every word like the reporters were. Waitin’ for what he’d say next.

  “We fought. We always fought. It was our thing. Still is.” He lovingly smirked, caressin’ the side of my face. “I started tickling her, and before I knew what was happening, I was on top of her. I just remember thinking if I didn’t kiss her, if my lips didn’t touch hers, I was going to die.”

  “Jackson...” I breathed, loud enough for him to hear me.

  “Her lips were so soft, and it was the craziest sensation I ever felt. She tasted like chocolate cake and vanilla Coke. From that point forward she went from the girl I hated the most to the one I needed more than anything in this world.”

  I frowned, my eyes fillin’ up with fresh tears. There was no holdin’ them back. Not when he was expressin’ all this to me.

  “And then once I was done claiming what’s always been mine, in true Gremlin fashion, she kneed me in the balls.”

  I laughed, and he wiped away a tear that had suddenly escaped from my eye.

  “Oh my goodness! I think every woman in this room just fell in love with you, Mr. Pierce,” a female reporter hollered while the rest of the room started clappin’ from his genuine reaction.

  Even the loud rupture in the room didn’t steal this moment from us.

  “To follow up on that question,” a new voice added. “What moment in time did you know you were in love with Mrs. Pierce?”

  He’d never told me he loved me before.

  Ever.

  Never have I heard those three words pour from his mouth.

  So when he rasped, “She was six years old, and I was seven,” I almost fell out of my chair.

  “Her mom went into labor with her youngest brother, Owen. Harley had to stay the night at our house while her parents tended to the new baby. We used to prank each other all the time, some of my favorite childhood memories came out of our battles. That particular time, I stuck a walkie talkie under the mattress of the guest room she was sleeping in and scared her enough with voices that she hauled ass to my parents’ room.”

  Where was he going with this?

  “I still remember the sound of her petrified voice down the hall. Panicking to my mom that the monster under the bed was gonna get her. She heard him. The creature was in her room, tormenting her. So, my mother walked her back to the room and stayed there with her. I couldn’t sleep, tossing and turning until I finally found myself standing at the edge of the bed in Harley’s room. Staring at her the same way I am now. Wholeheartedly captivated by her.”

  “Oh my God,” I whispered so low, narrowing my eyes at him.

  “I gravitated toward her without even realizing it. I laid down beside her and watched her sleep for I don’t know how long. My hand gravitated toward her face, pulling the hair away from her cheek, just like this,” he stated, placin’ a stray piece of hair behind my ear. “Once again, consumed, enthralled, held captive by the beauty that is my wife.”

  Tears slid from my eyes, and I sucked in my lower lip. My heart was beating profusely, poundin’ against my chest.

  Was he going to tell me he loved me?

  Here?

  In front of all these people?

  “I didn’t know it then ’cuz I was too young, but that was the moment I knew she was mine. She’s always been mine.”

  I’d be lyin’ if I said I wasn’t disappointed he didn’t say I love you to me.

  My heart skipped a beat the second he went on with, “I lo—”

  “Jackson! Can we expect to see more little ones in the near future? Maybe a baby brother or sister for Bailey?”

  That made his eyes snap to the interviewer, breakin’ our trancelike state.

  Son of a bitch.

  “We’re not having any more kids.”

  I wiped away the tears, squeezin’ his hand under the table, knowin’ the reason behind his abrupt reaction.

  Sniffin’, I got my shit together before mutterin’, “What my husband is tryin’ to say is Bailey’s enough for us. She completes our family.”

  Everyone awed, and Jackson’s stare shifted back over to me, thankin’ me with his eyes.

  “All day need is me,” Bailey voiced, blowin’ a kiss to the crowd.

  Everyone awed again.

  “Jackson, how is your
family?”

  “They’re great. Thanks for asking.”

  “Well, we know your brother Jagger is CEO of a multimillion-dollar corporation. He’s one of the most eligible bachelors according to Forbes. Any advice on how to tame him?”

  He scoffed out a chuckle. “My brother is reserved. Quiet. I’ll be surprised if he ever settles down. His company is the love of his life.”

  Jagger opened a business, building it single-handedly from the ground up, it was his baby. He lived and breathed his job.

  “And your baby sister, Journey? How is she? She was last seen on her Instagram, cheerleading for her high school.”

  “Yes. She’s a freshman this year. Still very much a free spirit. She plans on studying abroad for college at Barcelona University, I believe.”

  “My auntie Neyney is my best fwend like momma. She teaches me howta dance, like dis.” Bailey stood up and started shakin’ her booty.

  The reporters busted out in a fit of laughter while Jackson’s face read nothin’ but of a man who was gonna kill his baby sister.

  Bailey and Journey had a very special relationship and bond since day one. They loved each other. Journey babysat her niece all the time. They became attached at the hip, havin’ dates where they’d go get their nails done together, playdates at the local park, and Bailey’s favorite, Sunday mornin’ tea parties. She was constantly over the house, teachin’ Bailey how to dance as well.

  After all these years, Journey still had a profound love for music. The girl shook her ass everywhere she went. Her dream was to travel all over Europe. Definitely livin’ up to her name. She was a wanderlust at heart, and I knew for a fact she wouldn’t stop until she’d seen the whole world.

  “And your other siblings? There’s seven of you, correct?”

  “Correct, and an adoptive brother, Curtis. Everyone is doing great. My parents are actually right there.” He nodded over to them. They were standin’ in the back of the room, proud as fuck of their boy.

  They adopted Curtis, who was a few years younger than us, back when they first got married. He was Camila’s old neighbor’s son from the hood. His mother couldn’t provide for him, so they took him in. He was now running a club with Aunt Camila’s best friend, Dante.

  Let’s just say Uncle Aiden and Aunt Camila’s love for one another showed through all the kids they had together. I swear the woman had been pregnant for the last ten years they’ve been married.

  Raisin’ their own football team.

  My parents, on the other hand, couldn’t make it to the big game. Luke was graduatin’ from the Army the same week. He served four years, followin’ in our father’s footsteps. Bringin’ the flag home. My baby brother was the spittin’ image of our old man. From his appearance to his tattoos, to his over-the-top alpha demeanor.

  He was Creed Jameson to a T.

  Owen was a senior in high school, gettin’ in more trouble than they knew what to do with. My brothers were bad boys, exactly like our father.

  Just thinkin’ about them made my heart ache. Our families didn’t know about our fake marriage, no one did. Not even Shiloh. And because of that, I separated myself from them a lot. Fearin’ they’d figure it out, but maybe they already had. In spite of nobody ever speakin’ a word about it.

  The Prez still hated Jackson with a passion but loved his granddaughter with all his heart and soul. To this day in his mind, I believed he thought Bailey was an immaculate conception.

  Jackson’s grasp on my hand tightened when a news reporter specified, “Let’s talk about your charity you hold so near and dear to your heart. You have raised millions of dollars, donating it all to your organization, Never Forget the Sunflowers, for early-onset dementia.”

  “Mmm hmm...” was all he could manage to say. His grip intensified firmer.

  “You take so many hits on the field, we worry about you, Jackson. How is your mental health?”

  “It’s fine.”

  “I read somewhere that kids of parents who have early-onset are at greater risk to deter themselves as well. Any thoughts on that?”

  The expression on his was ready to destroy. “Who the fu—”

  “My husband’s memory is better than mine,” I intervened again, knowin’ he was about to go off.

  To this day, he never opened the envelope. It sat in the drawer of his nightstand as if it were a tickin’ time bomb about to detonate.

  We didn’t talk about it either.

  Another thing we pretended would just go away on its own.

  “So you’ve taken the test? You’re not—”

  “I’m sorry. I thought this was a press conference to talk about Jackson winnin’ the Super Bowl, not an evenin’ special with Barbara Walters.” I eyed the nosey bitch up and down, spewin’, “Next question, please.”

  She cleared her throat, and the next reporter carried on while Jackson looked me over before leanin’ forward and kissin’ my neck.

  Whisperin’ in my ear, “See, Gremlin, you do still love me. Thank you.”

  Our eyes connected as if we were the only two people in the room, filled to the brim with reporters. There was somethin’ about the way he was starin’ at me.

  With so much appreciation.

  Value.

  Love.

  Like I was his most prized possession.

  There was no hesitation, no second thoughts, nothin’ that could stop me from leanin’ toward his mouth. His eyes widened, realizin’ what I was about to do.

  “Jackson, where do you plan on displaying your trophy?” another reporter continued on, tearin’ me out of my daze of wantin’ to kiss him.

  Except, in true Jackson Pierce form, he didn’t back down. Growlin’ from deep within his chest, he gripped onto the back of my neck and slammed his lips against mine.

  And for the first time in over four and a half years...

  I. Let. Him.

  <>Jackson<>

  Now: Twenty-five years old

  I always knew she still loved me, but having her come to bat for me.

  Protect me...

  Was something I couldn’t overlook or deny. She was going to kiss me, I had her. Right then and there, she was mine.

  My Gremlin.

  My Harley.

  My baby girl.

  Fuckin’ reporter.

  There was no way in hell I was going to allow this moment to be taken away from me.

  From us.

  In less than a second, I was dragging her toward me to claim those pouty lips I’d been dreaming of for so fuckin’ long. Kissing my wife was what I pictured coming home after war was like. In a way it was. Our battle was far from over. We’d fight again, but my white flag was up.

  Blowing in the breeze.

  Surrendering.

  To her.

  My family.

  My whole entire world.

  After all these years, all the bullshit we’d been through together, the ups and the downs...

  This kiss.

  This instant.

  This place in time.

  Turned into its own thing. Something neither one of us could understand or refuse. Something neither one of us could control.

  The electricity...

  The connection...

  The intensity...

  Was constantly right there. Wavering and waiting for either of us to make the move. All we had to do was look at each other and sparks fuckin flew.

  This was no different.

  It was everything.

  It was us.

  Mine.

  Her lips parted as I slipped my tongue into her waiting mouth. When she breathed out, her scent was all around us, consuming my desire to feel her wrapped around me.

  It didn’t take long for her lips to move against mine, demanding a response that only she stirred within me. Her tongue was smooth and felt like silk. Like fucking ecstasy all rolled into one. I started to kiss her deeper.

  Harder.

  Longer.

  Her breathing picked up,
engulfing me in nothing but my need to keep going and claim what I’d wanted for too damn long.

  But...

  The fuckin’ flashing cameras started going off, and Harley sharply pulled away from me. Earning her another growl to erupt from my chest.

  I didn’t give a fuck that the reporters were there watching. However, she must have forgotten they were. My dick twitched in response, knowing I could still make her lose herself.

  “That’s enough questions for today. Thank you, everyone,” my agent announced into the microphone, nodding for us to get up and leave.

  We did.

  I grabbed Bailey from my wife’s arms, carrying her in mine instead, and got my family out of there. Holding Harley’s hand in the process.

  On our way toward the locker room, I caught Harley rubbing her lips back and forth with her fingers as if she could still feel me there.

  Yeah, me too, baby.

  “That was quite a kiss,” my stepmom declared, coming into view once we stepped into the room.

  “Grammy!” Bailey greeted, reaching for her.

  “I think you won everyone over,” she added, winking at us.

  “Like father, like son,” Dad exclaimed, kissing the top of Camila’s head.

  “Grampy!” Bailey celebrated again, like she hadn’t just been with them all day in the team’s private suite. Watching me kick nothing but ass on the field.

  “Hey, princess,” he responded, grabbing her from Camila’s arms. “How about we head back to our suite with Bailey, and you guys go enjoy the rest of your night at the afterparty.”

  “You don’t have to do that,” Harley countered, not meeting my eyes. “I can take her back to our suite. Jackson can go and celebrate with his teammates.”

  “I’m not leaving you. If you go back, I’m going with you.”

  “Oh, come on, it’s no bother at all. We insist,” Camila chimed in. “You guys go and have a great time. It’s your big victory! We will keep Bailey in our suite overnight. We can meet up for breakfast in the morning.”

  “I don’t think—”

  “Thanks,” I interrupted Harley. “I’d love to have my wife to myself tonight.”

  Her eyes finally fused with mine.