by Lynne, Donya
“Congratulations,” he said, hugging Holly.
“Thank you.” She placed her palm on her stomach, already doting on the unborn child who, from what Rob had texted last night, was already giving Holly terrible bouts of morning sickness. But there was no sign of sickness right now. Holly’s cheeks were flushed, eyes bright, lips plump.
“You look good,” he said to her.
“It’s a good day.” She grabbed Mark’s hand and led him into the living room. “A perfect day for what Rob and I have planned for you.”
“I told her not to do this,” Rob said, laughing, “but she’s shown me the light.”
He cast Rob a questioning glance, feeling a bit like a dog being led on a leash. “And what light would that be?”
“To never disagree with a pregnant woman. It doesn’t end well.”
Holly laughed. “Don’t listen to him. I’m not that bad. I’m really quite agreeable, given the circumstances.”
Now Rob laughed. “Really? Is that what they’re calling it now? Agreeable? You practically grew horns and a forked tail.”
“I did not.”
Rob took her hand. “Okay, maybe they were little tiny horns. And they were kinda cute on you.”
“Just wait till I hit six months,” she said. “You’ll want to move out.”
Rob shook his head. “Never.”
The love between Rob and Holly warmed Mark’s heart. For so long, he and Rob had sworn they would never fall in love. Never get married. Never have kids. They’d been avowed bachelors.
Now Rob was married and expecting, and Mark was on his way.
If only he could simply get past the one tiny roadblock impeding his progress.
“So, what’s this about a plan you two have for me?” he asked.
Holly’s face brightened. “Well, Rob explained to me that you’re having trouble talking to Karma about the wedding and that you have these panic attacks every time you try.”
Mark angled his head at Rob. “He did, did he?”
Rob cleared his throat, chagrined, as he fought back a sheepish smile.
“Rob tells me everything,” Holly said dismissively. “But that’s not the point. The point is, it gave me an idea.”
“Well, it gave us an idea,” Rob added.
Holly nodded. “Right. Us. This was kind of a joint effort.”
Rob took over. “See, Holly’s heard of this thing called immersion therapy where people are gradually exposed to the very thing they have a phobia to.”
“Patients look at pictures of what they fear,” Holly said, “or they talk about it, or sit in the same room with it . . . or even watch movies which contain the object of their fear.” A gleeful smile broke over her face, and she dashed to the entertainment center. When she returned, she was holding a stack of DVDs. “So, Rob and I are immersing you.” She started reading off movie titles. “Father of the Bride, The Wedding Singer, My Best Friend’s Wedding, Bridesmaids, and My Big Fat Greek Wedding, which is my personal favorite.”
Mark glanced at Rob. “You’re serious?”
“I told you I wasn’t sure this was a good idea, honey,” Rob said to Holly.
“Nonsense. This’ll work. I know it. Now, sit.” Holly pointed to the couch. “I’m making Cuban ham sandwiches for lunch. Then we’re ordering out for dinner. We’re doing this.”
Mark glanced warily from Holly to Rob, “Is she possessed?” He pretended that he was scared to touch her as she passed him on her way to the TV.
Rob chuckled, “I told you, man. It’s the hormones.”
“You two, hush.” Holly threw them both warning glances. “Mark needs this.”
This. An intervention. Only not for drugs.
He hesitantly rounded the couch and plopped down, waiting as Holly loaded the DVD.
“Do you think this will really work?” He had his doubts, but anything was worth a try. And it wasn’t like he had anything better to do today. He’d been running all over the eastern third of the country for a month. He could use a day on the couch. But it would be nice if he could return home tomorrow and be able to surprise Karma with a wedding date. This immersion therapy might not work that fast, but even if it only helped a little, that was better than nothing.
“I don’t know,” Rob said. “It could work. Then again, we might just spend the day watching a bunch of wedding movies and have nothing to show for it other than losing our man cards.”
He relaxed into the couch. “Why couldn’t I have been afraid of clowns?”
“Clowns? Man, no way. That would suck.”
“Oh, because being afraid of weddings doesn’t suck?” He speared Rob with a frustrated glance.
“Yeah, I guess you’ve got a point.” Rob reached for the newspaper, which Holly immediately snatched from his hand.
“No. You.” She snapped her fingers. “Watch.” She pointed to the TV as the opening credits began running on a backdrop of champagne bubbles.
“Hey, why do I have to watch? Mark’s the one with the phobia.”
Holly dropped the newspaper on the kitchen counter as she headed for the fridge to start lunch. “As the pre-designated best man and Mark’s best friend, it is your duty to sit with him through this,” she said. “You have to help him.”
Rob turned around and looked over the back of the couch. “Help him how?”
“By occasionally reminding him that he needs to imagine himself in the place of the actors playing the grooms in these movies and by pointing out things that could be triggers as they come up.” She spoke as if this all should have been apparent to him already.
“Are you kidding me?”
“No. Now, be quiet and turn around. The movie’s starting.”
“This had better work,” Rob grumbled to Mark as he faced the TV again.
Mark leaned toward him. “You’re telling me. But, man, I’m glad I’m not in your shoes for the next nine months.”
Rob uttered a soft huff. “When Karma’s pregnant and you’re up to your nads in raging female hormones and morning sickness, I’ll remind you that you said that.”
Holly clapped twice from the kitchen. “Quiet! You two need to take this seriously. This is Mark’s future we’re talking about.”
Mark exchanged a secret smile with Rob as he shifted back to his side of the couch.
“Yes, ma’am,” Rob said. “Taking things seriously in here.”
Holly sighed but didn’t reply.
Mark turned his attention to the movie as the camera panned to Steve Martin, wearing a tuxedo, sitting in a chair among the aftermath of what was obviously his character’s daughter’s wedding.
In less than twenty seconds, as Steve began comparing getting married to a wedding, something clicked inside Mark’s mind.
A wedding wasn’t the same as getting married. One was an event, the other a deliberate action. Getting married was what happened between two people who were in love. To get married was to dedicate yourself—heart, soul, and spirit—to another person and to receive that same promise in return.
A wedding was just where that vow took place.
In other words, he was through the hard part. In his heart, he was already married to Karma. So why the hang-up over the easy part? When he really thought about it, a wedding was like putting a period at the end of a sentence. The sentence, which took all the work, was already finished. A period just made it official and easy to read.
But phobias didn’t care how easy something was supposed to be. They hit where it hurt. Where they could do the most damage. Phobias held no compassion for the victim. And didn’t he know it.
Steve Martin continued his soliloquy about his character’s daughter and her new last name. Banks-MacKenzie.
He’d never asked Karma whether she wanted to take his last name or hyphenate hers. He’d just assumed she would be Karma Strong after they got married. But maybe she wanted to be Karma Mason-Strong.
As the movie’s opening narration continued, more lights went on inside Mark
’s head. Steve Martin was playing the father of the bride, a role Karma’s dad played in real life. No wonder John was so against him. Mark was stealing his daughter. Maybe John had known even before Mark did that Karma’s heart was lost to him forever. Maybe it was like a fatherly sixth sense kind of thing.
And just like George Banks in Father of the Bride, John would do anything to keep his daughter as . . . well . . . his daughter. He wouldn’t want Karma running off to get married. Because that would mean she was all grown up. Her own person. No longer in need of her dad.
Mark knew how close Karma and her dad were. She was the very definition of a daddy’s girl, and not just because she thought so, but because John thought so, too. He’d been her rock until Mark came along. Now Mark was her rock. Mark had replaced her dad in a lot of ways. He had become the most important man in Karma’s life, a role John had filled until last November, when Mark came back and gave Karma’s then-fiancé, Brad, the boot.
It all made sense now. John had liked Brad, because on a subconscious level, he’d known Brad wasn’t anyone he needed to worry about. Brad never would have been her rock. But Mark was, which made him the enemy.
As the movie got underway, his mind churned over the revelations firing inside his head. It was like a dozen tiny but monumental connections were being made. All from less than five minutes of a movie.
Maybe there was something to this immersion therapy idea. He still wasn’t sure he could discuss a wedding date without losing his lunch, but the clarity he was obtaining about everything else was certainly worth the effort and couldn’t hurt.
For the next seven hours, he lost himself inside the movies the same way he’d done with all the books, magazines, and online forums he’d read years ago when learning about women, what they wanted, and how to give them pleasure. Watching the movies was just another type of research.
Holly, emotional from her fluctuating hormones, dabbed at her eyes with a tissue at the end of The Wedding Singer and laughed herself to a different type of tears while watching Bridesmaids.
But it was My Big Fat Greek Wedding that gave Mark his most powerful reaction of the night. Toula reminded him so much of Karma his heart actually hurt. Toula started off as an invisible wallflower, a beauty hidden behind large glasses, a bad haircut, and frumpy clothes. A plain caterpillar. And then she metamorphosed into a butterfly. Beautiful, strong, and vivacious.
Just like his Karma.
And then he was suddenly missing her so bad it hurt. He’d been gone a week, and, right now, he needed to see her more than anything. He wasn’t supposed to head out until tomorrow morning, but that wasn’t soon enough. He really needed to be with Karma tonight. If nothing else, these movies had reminded him of how much he loved her . . . how much his soul needed hers to feel complete.
He was about to excuse himself to go home when Rob threw out his arms toward the TV.
“Okay, I can’t take any more of this!” His hands curled into fists.
“What?” Holly appeared affronted.
“This! These movies! One chick flick after another after another.” Rob grabbed a car magazine on the coffee table and aggressively waved it in the air. “I need speed. Action! Car chases and guns!” He stood and paced. “This . . .” He flung his arm toward the TV. “This is about to drive me insane. At least give me a nude-booby shot!”
“Hey, this was your idea,” Mark said, reminding him how this all got started.
“It was more Holly’s idea than mine!” Rob yelled. Then he realized what he’d said and how he’d said it and darted a worried glance toward Holly.
She looked like she was on the verge of crying.
“Oh, honey, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.” Rob rushed to her chair and knelt in front of her, taking her face in his hands. “I’m sorry. Don’t cry.”
Wow, those hormones were powerful little fuckers. Mark needed to remember that.
He scooted to the edge of the couch. “Hey, you guys did this for me. Holly . . .” He raised his chin toward her as she warily met his gaze. “You did good.”
Rob glanced over his shoulder. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Mark stood. “It means that I miss my fiancée. I need to go home.
“You mean . . .” Holly smiled. “Did our immersion therapy work?”
He smiled. “I’m not sure I’m ready to talk about the wedding without having a panic attack just yet, but I’m a lot closer to being ready than I was eight hours ago. This was a big help. Thank you.”
Rob helped Holly up, and the two followed him to the door, where they said warm good-byes. At least it appeared Rob was out of hot water.
For now.
In his rental car, Mark checked the time. Not quite seven thirty.
He pulled out his phone and sent Karma a text.
I’m on my way home.
A few seconds later, she replied. Thought you weren’t coming home till tomorrow.
Tomorrow’s not soon enough. I miss you.
Awe. But what about your airfare?
Due to the nature of this week’s trip, he was supposed to fly home in the morning. He didn’t normally fly between Chicago and Indianapolis, because when everything was taken into consideration, including driving to and from the airports, checking in, grabbing any checked luggage (and this time, he’d checked a suitcase), and especially O’Hare’s propensity for flight delays, it was faster to drive three hours than take a short, forty-five minute flight.
I’ll gladly eat the airfare to get back to you tonight. See you soon. I love you.
I love you, too. Drive safely.
Maybe he wasn’t quite ready to discuss their wedding, but he was more than ready to hold Karma in his arms again. After all, he already saw her as his wife. In his heart, they were married. Which meant the hard part was over, right? All he needed was the period at the end of the sentence to make it official.
But as he hit I-94 out of Chicago, something told him there was still one roadblock in the way of his happiness. One piece of the puzzle he still hadn’t dealt with, and that until he did, he wouldn’t be able to move forward.
And he had a sinking feeling in his gut he knew exactly what that final piece was.
Chapter 23
Love is the ability and willingness to allow those that you care for to be what they choose for themselves, without any insistence that they satisfy you.
-Wayne Dyer
Freshly showered, Karma pulled on a pair of flannel shorts and a T-shirt then climbed into bed. She fluffed her pillow and piled it on top of another, then set both against the headboard and relaxed. It was almost 10:00, and Mark would be home any minute.
After he texted that he was on the way home, Lisa, Daniel, and Zach had helped her clean up before taking off. But not before Daniel gave her one last, short pep talk about introducing Mark to her new arsenal of toys.
In preparation, she’d moved them from her panty drawer to the top drawer of her nightstand. It would be a lot easier to get to them there, especially if things escalated the way she thought they might when Mark got home.
There had been a bit of urgency behind his texts, and, with Mark, urgency usually meant sex.
She trembled in anticipation. How would he react when he saw her new toys? She could almost see the look on his face now. One of surprise, but also one of power. An expression that said he was both pleased that she wanted to indulge his fantasies but also that he planned on showing her just how much pleasure he could give her for doing so.
She clicked on the TV, needing something to distract her mind. Otherwise, the waiting would drive her crazy.
Twenty minutes later, she heard his footsteps on the stairs.
She sat up, hugging her knees to her chest, ready.
And then he was there. Her sexy, larger-than-life man. He entered the bedroom and met her gaze as he set his bags beside the door.
“Hey.” He smiled, but the gesture was more a hungry display of salacious seduction than a show of happin
ess and affection.
“Hey.” She let go of her legs and let them fall Indian-style to the mattress.
He pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it to the floor as he crossed the room toward her.
His lips met hers, and she practically pulled him down on top of her.
“I missed you,” he said, between kisses, pushing his hand under her tank top.
“I missed you, too.”
In the fiery rush that followed, as their clothes fell away and he rolled on top of her, held down her arms, and claimed her body, she forgot all about the toys. This moment was about welcoming her man home. About untamed love and unbridled passion. Devotion conveyed through swift and furious affection.
She gripped him with her legs, drove her nails into his back when he finally released her arms, and held on tight as he drove into her hard and fast, making her cry out with every thrust.
Afterward, neither could move for a long time. He lay on top her, his skin slick with sweat, both of them panting.
Finally, he kissed her neck then pushed himself up on his arms. This time his smile was one of happiness and affection. “I’m going to grab a shower.” He bent and gave her a quick kiss.
She sat up as he rolled to the edge of the bed, stood, and then disappeared into the bathroom. A moment later, the shower turned on and she heard the glass panel click closed.
She glanced at the drawer on her nightstand. She wanted to show him what she’d done. That she was ready to explore his fantasies with him. Now.
With a quick glance at the sliver of light shining between the partially closed bathroom door and the frame, she took a deep breath and hopped out of bed. Yanking open the drawer, she pulled out her stash and tossed everything on the bed. Then she grabbed the Adam and took it with her as she eased open the bathroom door.
Mark had his back to her, and the bathroom smelled of sandalwood. Mark’s soap. Shampoo suds trailed from his hair, down his neck, over his cut shoulders. The muscles of his back rolled under his skin as he brushed his hands forward and back over his scalp.