S.O.B.

by J.C. Valentine

  Pushing the door open, I invite myself inside since she’s clearly not going to. Setting my bag down on the coffee table, I turn to her and ask, “Did you catch the show tonight?”

  After closing the door and securing the locks, Vista crosses the room, bypassing the couch and climbing back into bed. Not that it makes much of a difference. They’re practically the same room.

  Still, after all this time apart, even that small amount of distance is too much. Kicking off my shoes, I crawl in beside her.

  Her eyes pop open and she hisses, “What are you doing in my bed?”

  “Talking to you. What does it look like?”

  “Like you’re in my bed. Get out.”

  “No. Now tell me, did you see the show or not?”

  “Since I’m not a glutton for punishment and I have no clue what you’re talking about, obviously not.” She releases a huge yawn that makes me smile. Dammit she’s adorable. How did I stay away this long?

  Digging out my phone, I type in my name and Jimmy’s and instantly get a hit. Just as I thought, someone’s already uploaded it to YouTube. Damn, I love technology sometimes.

  Handing the phone off to her, I tell her, “Here, watch it,” figuring it’ll make more sense if she sees it than if I try to explain it.

  Casting me a suspicious frown, she takes it and rolls onto her back, getting comfortable. Holding the phone in the air, over her face, she starts the feed.

  While she lays there watching, my attention drifts lower to her abdomen. It’s fuller than it was last time I was here. Rounder. Without thinking, I reach out and rest my hand on it, earning a sharp look, but Vista doesn’t tell me to stop, so I don’t.

  I listen to the interview progress with half an ear, until I feel a strong bump directly beneath my palm, then I’m not listening at all. My attention is one hundred percent riveted to what’s happening in her stomach.

  Several sharp jabs hit the underside of my hand and right before my eyes, I watch her basketball of a stomach roll and shift, bulging and sinking in this crazy ass dance that has my heart trying to beat clear out of my chest.

  I have never seen anything like it. To imagine a whole person inside there, moving around, is mind-blowing. I have a million things that want to burst from my mouth right now—namely, a shout of pure elation—but I keep it bottled up, afraid that if I make even the slightest sound, she’ll boot me out the door.

  I’m not stupid. I know I fucked up pretty bad. But I’m here, and she’s here, and this is happening, and I’m hoping to fucking God that she still feels something for me.

  “Just one more chance,” I hear myself whisper as I move down the bed and curl my arms around her belly, holding our son the only way possible. “I know you hate me right now, and you have every reason to, but please don’t send me away. Please tell me we can still fix this.”

  The plea shutters out of me and I’m shocked to realize that I’m crying. Like real fucking tears. My fingers swipe at the moisture coating my cheeks and I stare at them, dumbfounded because I can’t recall the last time I cried.

  I’ve broken bones and smiled through the pain.

  Feeling something soft touch my hand, I look up to see Vista’s fingers curling around mine. Her face is obscured by the phone, but what I can see of her is set aglow. I don’t know if she’s responding to my whispered plea or the video. I don’t even know what it means, but that single touch gives me a shred of hope.

  Afraid to move, afraid that if I do it will break the spell and she’ll take her hand away, I hold as still as possible. The only thing that moves is my head, because I can’t help myself from kissing her hard stomach, from running my lips tenderly across it. It’s so unbelievable that we made an entire person together. The love I feel for both of them can’t be described.

  I listen closely as she gets to the part where Jimmy asks me if I want to say anything. Her hand squeezes in mine as we listen to my words together.

  “You were right, princess. It’s you and me. So don’t lock that door just yet. Make sure you leave a light on.”

  The video jumps ahead to the rest of the interview and Vista presses the button on the side of the phone to shut it off, taking the light with it. The room is dark and full of shadows now, but I can still make out her general form. Setting the phone down on the blankets beside her, she asks softly, “Keep a light on?”

  There’s confusion and a touch of humor in her tone, and I feel what some might describe as a bashful smile curl the corners of my mouth. “Yeah, well, I never claimed to be a poet.”

  There’s a long pause and I hold my breath, bracing myself for whatever she has to say.

  “When was the interview?”

  “Tonight. Well, last night, I guess. I lost track of my days on the flight. I left as soon as the interview was done.”

  “You flew all the way from California?”

  I nod against her stomach, realizing the way that I’m curled around her, with her hand in mine, is about as intimate as two people can get without having sex.

  “What did you mean by the light thing?”

  Shit, I knew I should have been clearer. That’s what I get for trying to be clever. Groaning at my own idiocy, I explain. “It was just my way of saying that I was on my way and to wait up for me. I guess I fucked that all up, huh?” I grimace, glad for the darkness. If she could see my face now—“Hey!” The room is suddenly brighter than the sun, forcing my eyes into narrow slits.

  “You trying to get back at me for leaving by burning my eyes out of their sockets, woman?” I complain, rubbing them furiously. It takes some time, but they eventually adjust to the light.

  When I can focus, I see Vista is laying there, nestled in a mound of pillows, staring at me with this unreadable expression. I can’t tell if she’s happy or if she’s about to rip my balls off and serve them to me for dinner.

  A slow smile breaks out and, using the hand that’s holding mine, she pulls herself up to sit. The action forces me to sit back on my knees, bringing us inches apart.

  “Sorry,” she says with a smile that tells me she is anything but that. “I was just keeping a light on for you.”

  My jaw drops and I study her for any indication that she’s pulling my leg. Maybe this is just her way of punishing me, getting my hopes up before she drops me on my ass. But when I look into those soft brown eyes, all I see is sincerity.

  “Am I hearing you right?”

  “Depends on what you think you’re hearing.”

  “I think I just heard you say that you forgive me and that you can’t live another second without me.”

  Rolling her bottom lip between her teeth, Vista replies, “I think you might be right.”

  My heart fucking soars. With a growl, I lunge, tackling her back onto the mattress. Her stomach means I can’t climb on top of her like I want to, but that’s not going to keep me from sucking on those plump lips.

  Cupping the side of her neck, I pull her to me and take her mouth with force, plunging my tongue inside and swirling it with hers. She tastes like a dream, one I never want to wake up from. When her fingers tunnel into my hair, her lips and tongue dancing eagerly with mine, it’s nearly impossible to restrain myself.

  I tell her I love her between each kiss, tell her how fucking sorry I am for being such a son of a bitch, and she kisses me back eagerly, telling me without words that she forgives me. I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve it, but I’ll take it, because without her my life means nothing.

  Drawing back slightly, Vista presses a delicate hand against my chest and peers up at me with a vulnerability I’ve never seen before. “Tell me this isn’t a dream,” she says breathlessly.

  “If it is,” I tell her as I settle in beside her and wrap her up tight in my arms so that we’re facing one another, “then I don’t wanna wake up.”

  EPILOGUE

  One year later…

  “Rotate your shoulder. Now come forward. Back. Again. Good!” I help Keyon, one of my best clie
nts and arguably the football world’s best player, lower the weights back to the floor. He’s a big guy, towering over me by a good half foot. He hasn’t been injured—yet—and he’s hoping that by coming to me, he’ll lessen his chances of gaining any serious injuries on the field.

  Smart man.

  Shaking out his long limbs, Keyon strides over to the bench where he laid his towel and picks it up, swabbing the light sheen of sweat from his flawless ebony skin. “Great workout, boss.”

  “I keep telling you, Keyon, I’m not your boss.” I laugh, earning a wide, toothy grin. “Are you ready for the game Sunday?” He’s the star running back for a team that is, according to Levi, headed for the Super Bowl this season.

  “The other team isn’t going to know what hit ‘em,” he boasts. “Hey, are you and your husband planning to make it out?”

  I promised him that Levi and I would make at least one of his games. It’s a thing I like to do to show my clients that I’m invested in them as a sort of thank you for investing in me. Marquis Rehabilitation wouldn’t be the overnight success it is today without them.

  “I’ll have to talk to Levi, but I’m pretty sure we can.”

  “Great, then I’ll make sure to leave a couple tickets for you at the front.”

  I thank him and as he walks out, I see my gorgeous husband walk in. Levi looks damn fine in his Tuesday best—a pair of tight black jeans and black riding jacket worn over a black Henley. His beard is freshly trimmed and his sexy as sin smile is in full effect. Chase is strapped securely to his chest like a little papoose, fast asleep.

  He crosses paths with Keyon, pausing to shake hands and exchange a few words before he heads my way and drops a sweet kiss on my lips. “Hey, princess. Ready to take off?”

  “Just gotta grab my purse.” I pause before turning away and look meaningfully at the bundle of baby cuddled up to him. “You did bring the car, right?”

  Levi’s eyes widen in mock offense. “Babe, come on. What do you take me for?”

  I raise my brows, then change the direction of the conversation. “So a Mohawk, huh?” I reach out to run a finger across the blond hawk running down the center of Chase’s round head, only to have my hand slapped away before contact.

  “Never mess with a man’s hair, princess.”

  Shaking my head, I turn and walk away. Levi and I have been married for ten months now, and I dare say I know him better than he knows himself. Still, as ornery and mischievous as the man is, I haven’t regretted a second of our time together.

  The day we said our vows to one another was the day Chase entered the world. In true Levi form, he couldn’t wait and do things in the right order or at the right time. He proposed during the most brutal contraction, citing his cleverness in distracting me from the pain, and he pulled in a man from the hospital chapel who looked the part and had him marry us as I began to push. I never thought my marriage vows would be punctuated by panting breaths or a crying baby, but I have to give Levi credit. He certainly made the event a memorable one.

  Mom was right, too. She told me he was a good guy, and he really is. When I first moved in with Levi, he was the bad boy, womanizing, son of a bitch I’d pegged him for. Now, he’s the sweetest, most charming, if not completely over-the-top wonderful husband I knew he could be.

  A week before our son was born, Levi announced to the world that he would be taking time off to be with us, his family. He then made it his mission to get Marquis Rehabilitation some much needed recognition. Employing his connections in the sports world, he singlehandedly shoved the business into the limelight. In a few short months, my business has reached heights I never would have imagined possible. There’s even speculation that it might make Forbes.

  So I guess you can say that I’ve learned to take help where it’s needed.

  So now, while I’m working to build my dream, Levi is working on becoming father of the year—his words, not mine. I’d say he has that in the bag.

  We hit the road and arrive at my mother’s townhouse a few minutes later. I gather the diaper bag while Levi removes Chase from his car seat. The door swings open before we reach the sidewalk and I see Mom step out in a pair of slim fitting red capris and white, off the shoulder sweater.

  She certainly doesn’t look like a grandma.

  “There’s my little man!” she squeals as Levi passes her the baby. “Oh, would you look at that?” she gushes, inspecting his hairdo. “That has got to be the cutest thing I have ever seen in my life.”

  “Levi’s bright idea,” I laugh. I move to step up onto the porch with her, but Levi’s hand on my arm holds me back. I pass him a questioning look as he relieves me of the diaper bag and passes it off to Mom.

  “Are you sure you’re good for the night, Lara? We can swing by later on the way home?”

  “What are you talking about?” I ask, confused.

  “I have raised a child before. I think I’ll survive the night,” Mom cajoles. To me she says, “You two have fun tonight.”

  I’m barely allowed the time to kiss Chase’s forehead before Levi is dragging me back to the car. Only it’s not the car he takes me to. I failed to notice his bike parked at the curb when we pulled up.

  “What the hell is happening right now?” I ask again as Levi slings his leg over the motorcycle and hands me my helmet saying, “No time for questions, babe. Hop up on the bitch seat.”

  I slap his arm is mock offense, and he smirks. “Who are you calling a bitch?”

  “Not, you, princess. Never you,” he feigns innocence as he grasps my chin and draws my face to his for a placating kiss.

  I shake my head when he releases me and stay put to allow Levi to adjust the helmet on under my chin…just like he used to do. We haven’t ridden this thing in…almost a year. I hadn’t realized just how much I missed being on the back of it until right this second. As confused and lost as I feel right now, because our plans for dinner at my mom’s house have apparently been cancelled, I can’t deny the thread of excitement creating butterflies in my stomach as I climb on behind him.

  “Change of plans, princess.” Reaching back, Levi grabs my thighs and tugs me in for a tighter fit. “Tonight…we ride.”

  I chuckle at his dramatic delivery. As he kicks his foot down and the bike rumbles to life, I decide that whatever he has planned, it’s not worth ruining the surprise. We get so few of them anymore. So I wrap my arms tight around his lean waist and hold on tight as we jet off.

  We ride for what is probably a couple hours, but it still feels too short to me. I love the feel of the cool, crisp air in my face. I love the smell of Levi’s leather jacket in my nose. I should be mourning the distance from my little man, but I’m enjoying myself with my big man far too much. Feeling exhilarated, I allow my hands to wander a few times, groping Levi and laughing in amusement at the low rumble of frustration that vibrates through his chest.

  That’s probably why he’s crossed state lines. At first, I was worried. Being in the dark, not in control, already had my head spinning. So when the sign indicating we were leaving Ohio flashed by, I definitely needed answers.

  Answers I never got.

  Entering Chicago was an even bigger mystery. We haven’t been back since Levi cleared out his apartment in the sky and we set up our new life together in Ohio, the adjustment made even easier when my mom moved to be closer to us.

  Without a reason to come back, my mind immediately jumps to David. But that idea is quickly cast aside when I feel the firm bulge beneath my questing fingers.

  If we were going to visit Daddy Dearest, I doubt Levi would be hard as a rock.

  Just as I suspect, Levi has something entirely different in mind. Only, I couldn’t have predicted just what that was until he takes us down a road less traveled that holds meaning for both of us.

  After coasting down the bumpy path, we climb off the bike and take a moment to soak in our surroundings.

  “Well, the house is still here,” Levi comments.

  I study
the dilapidated structure. The first time I laid eyes on it, I thought it was creepy as hell. Now, it somehow feels like home.

  “Come on.” Taking my hand, Levi leads us around back to the water’s edge and selects a spot that’s flat and covered in a light cushion of dark green grass.

  “So what’s the occasion?” I ask, looking out over the pond. This was his place, someplace to let go of his worries for a while. I still feel privileged that he thought enough of me to share it. Come spring, the aging structure behind us will be gone, making way for construction to start on a new cabin where we’ll make new and lasting memories together.

  Raising our combined hands to his mouth, he kisses the back of mine. “Does there have to be one?”

  “No,” I chuckle. “It’s just not every day that we travel so far for a date night. Something is up. I can feel it.”

  “Never could get anything past you,” he teases and pecks me on the nose. Drawing my arm across his lap, he pulls me into his side and wraps his strong arm around my shoulders. “It’s been a hell of a year, hasn’t it?”

  I think about all that we’ve been through and how far we’ve come, and I can’t disagree. “Yeah, it really has.”

  “You make me happy, Vista,” he says softly, pressing his lips into my hair. I try to tilt my head back so I can see his eyes, but his grip on my shoulder hardens and his chin presses down on top of my head, holding me immobile. “No, don’t look at me when I say sappy shit. It makes it weird.”

  Grinning, I stay put and just listen. “Anyway, I’m happy. And for a guy who used to think he was happy, that’s saying something. You’re, like, the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

  “Oh, Levi—”

  “No, no. Just shush and listen or I’ll never get this out.” Rubbing his bearded cheek across my hair, he continues. “So you’re probably wondering why I brought you here. Like any good criminal, I wanted to return to the scene of the crime.”