by Layla Hagen
“There, now you’re one of us,” Julie says after she calms down. “Glitter fan.”
“Mission accomplished,” Pippa adds. The three of us are sprawled on the floor, Pippa to my right, her head on my shoulder, and Julie on my left, cocooned against me.
As we all regain our breath, a recognition hits me hard. This is right, the three of us together, almost like a family. Pippa looks up at me, and I know she feels it too.
“Hey,” she says softly. “I mentioned it before, but I didn’t officially invite you. We’re celebrating Ava’s birthday at my parents’ house next Saturday. Would the two of you like to come? It’ll be a lot of fun.”
“Yes,” Julie answers before I even open my mouth. “Dad, can we go?”
“Sure.” For the first time in a long time, I feel whole.
Chapter Seventeen
Pippa
My opportunity to spoil Eric arises two days later. I’ve meant to do something nice for him ever since he went to the charity gala with me, but I haven’t had time. Now that my dad is back home—on the mend, but more grumpy than ever—my routine is somewhat back to normal. After work, I shop for groceries and head home. I enter my apartment at six thirty, which is perfect. It gives me enough time to cook until Eric arrives. He said he’d stop by at seven thirty. Apparently, Julie’s design class has a movie night at the school, so we can have a few hours for ourselves.
Julie told me Eric’s favorite dish is risotto, and that’s what I’m preparing. I turn on the music loudly and begin to cook. God, I missed this. I forgot how much I love cooking. It’s almost like a meditation for me. The mix of aromas, the combination of herbs. I can’t believe I stopped doing it after the divorce. I resolve not to do that again.
One hour later, everything’s done. Now the only missing piece is Eric himself. Except the minutes tick by, and Eric doesn’t come. Eventually, I call him.
“Hey there,” I greet him.
“Shit. I was supposed to be at your place by now. Sorry I forgot to call, but I can’t make it. Something came up at the last minute, and I called an urgent meeting with my team.”
Eyeing the risotto, I eat a spoonful. It’s delicious. Then I pout, brainstorming how to lure him out of his office.
“Are you pouting?” he asks.
I startle. “How do you know?”
“Just a hunch. Will you still be pouting if I buy you your favorite chocolate cake and stop by later?”
I laugh. “Are you bribing me?”
“Unapologetically.”
“I’ll consider changing my expression to a mini-pout.”
“Good girl.”
I put the spoon down and decide that desperate times call for desperate measures.
“I’m naked in the kitchen,” I murmur, hoping he can’t tell I’m lying through my teeth. “With a bottle of wine, and touching myself—”
“Hold on,” he interrupts.
“Hold on?” I bellow, but I get no answer. I hear Eric talk to someone else in the background.
“Right, I’m back.”
“Eric Callahan, you do not tell me to hold on when I’m about to have phone sex with you.”
“I will if I have an important thing to do.”
“Like what?” I bite the inside of my cheek, brainstorming for some credible threats.
“Like postponing the meeting to come home and have actual sex with you.”
I straighten up. “You did that?”
“You thought I’d stay at the office knowing you’re touching yourself?”
“Well, you’re the shark after all,” I say reasonably.
“I’m also a man.”
“You’re weak for flesh, Eric.” My grin is so wide now that my face muscles almost hurt.
“Nah. Only for you.”
And just like that, I melt.
“Hurry,” I tell him.
***
Exactly fifteen minutes later, my doorbell rings. I’ve changed into a red silk and organza kimono and am wearing black lace lingerie underneath it. Drawing in a deep breath, I open the door. The second Eric lays eyes on me, his gaze darkens, desire glinting in it. Feeling naughty, I undo the cord of my kimono, opening it so he can get a glimpse of my panties and bra. I’m rewarded with a deep groan.
“If I knew you were wearing this, I’d have come home in ten minutes,” he says.
“I take it you like what you see.”
“I do.” He steps into the apartment and closes the door. “Can’t wait to rip them off.”
I rake him in as well, my senses beguiled by every single aspect of him. There is something very masculine about a man in a suit, and Eric wears it well. Everything about him screams power, determination—and mind-blowing sex.
He hooks an arm around my waist, pushing me against the wall. Swiping his tongue over my lips, he slips it in my mouth. Eric kisses me like a man possessed, and I love every wild second of it. He’s delicious.
“How can I need you so much?” he asks after we pull apart. His breath is ragged. “You’re all I could think about when I was at the office.”
My breath becomes increasingly shallow as desire ravages my body, driving me to roll my hips against him. Eric lets out a groan from deep in his throat, one of his hands finding its way in to my hair, gripping the back of my head for a brief second before releasing me and descending to cup my cheek. Unexpectedly, he presses my legs apart with his knee, his fingers push aside the fabric of my thong, and he dips his thumb into my slit. My knees instantly weaken as a quiver runs through me. This man knows how to drive a woman crazy.
“Let’s go in the bedroom right now, or I swear I’ll take you here against this wall.”
“Then do it,” I challenge.
Something snaps inside him—I think it might be his control. He kisses me hot and hard again. I ache for him everywhere. My hands fumble with the buttons of his shirt, undoing them one by one, barely resisting the urge to rip them off. I run my hands over his muscle-laced arms as I push the shirt off him. Taking a step back, I greedily watch his ripped chest and abdomen. My clit begs for his attention, and my puckered nipples press against the fabric of the bra.
“You’re sexy,” he says with a groan, his eyes on my bra. I swell with pride. I spent a good amount of time at Nadine’s shop picking out racy lingerie with Alice nagging that I’m wasting my time, that men never care much about the lingerie, only what’s beneath it. Well, Eric is appreciatively growling at my bra. For all of five seconds, before he unclasps it and my breasts pop free. He kneads them in his hands, focusing on my almost painful nipples. “I’m going to make you feel so good, Pippa.”
“Stop stalling, start proving.” I ache for him to be inside me right now.
“You’re an impatient little thing.”
He doesn’t spare my panties one glance before removing them. Okay, so Alice had a point.
I undo the fly of his pants, pushing them and his boxers past his ass. This man has a gorgeous ass. I dig my nails in to it briefly to show my appreciation. Eric chuckles, cupping my face. I turn my attention to his erection next, stroking him. I sink down the wall to my knees and take him in my mouth while continuing to move my hand up and down, applying pressure. He swallows hard, his Adam’s apple dipping, while his hand moves to grip my hair. With satisfaction, I observe his control ebbing with every stroke of my hand. When I swipe my tongue over his tip, he mouths my name on a groan, shuddering. Eric pulls back, kicking his pants and boxers away, but not before whisking out a condom from his pocket. He pulls the condom over his erection, then pulls me to my feet.
“Spread your legs,” he commands. I swallow hard before doing as he instructs. Dipping a finger inside me, he kisses me roughly, and I love the taste of him—all man. Grazing my earlobe with his teeth, he whispers, “I love feeling you so wet for me. And I’m going to reward you for that.”
He adds a second finger, stretching me, teasing me before pressing his palm over my clit and moving his hand in rhythmic beats. I cl
ench with need around his fingers, greedy for more. He lowers himself until his lips are level with my waist and traces a fine line with his tongue from my navel to my clit. I pinch my eyes shut, losing myself in the sensation.
When he rims the sensitive flesh of my core with his thumb and then with a lash of his tongue, my knees buckle dangerously.
“You’re the one who challenged me to make love to you here,” he teases.
“I—yeah,” I mutter, and lick my lips. “Not my best idea. I’ll fall.”
“No, you won’t.” Gripping my ass with both hands, he adds, “I’ve got you, baby.”
As his mouth works magic on me, I run my fingers through his hair, pulling him even closer.
“I need you inside me now,” I beg. Eric obliges me almost instantly, rising to his feet and hoisting me against the wall. Almost without thinking, I hitch my legs around his waist, opening myself wider to him. He captures my mouth with his, driving inside me at the same time. He doesn’t move for a few moments, just holds me. I lace my fingers together at the back of his neck, enjoying the nearness, the skin-on-skin contact. His heartbeat is almost as frantic as mine.
“Being inside you feels so good, Pippa.” He gives me a chaste little kiss on my cheek. “Like home.”
His words touch me in a way he can’t possibly know. I rock my body in to him, seeking warmth and passion. Keeping his eyes on mine, he slides in and out of me, the angle of his hips perfect, touching me on the inside in places no one did, luring moan after moan out of me. My heartbeat quickens as something powerful stirs in my center. Tightening my legs around him, I dig my heels in his ass cheeks, needing to be even closer to him. I press my hips flush against his, seeking his mouth as I pulsate around him, desire coursing through me. I graze my fingernails over the expanse of his chest and shoulders as pleasure sears me. A thin sheet of sweat dots his upper lip, and I lean forward and kiss him. He tastes a little like salt, a lot like a man. I explode in a million pieces of pleasure when he widens inside me, clinging to him for dear life as I cry out my release. He does the same then leans his forehead against mine, his breath shallow.
“I missed you.” He whispers the words, smiling against my lips.
“I missed you too,” I confess.
We remain entwined like this for a while before he puts me down.
“Do I smell risotto?” he asks, sniffing the air.
“Yep. I asked Julie what your favorite food is,” I say proudly. “You didn’t bring any chocolate cake, like you said you would.”
“I brought myself.” Eric shoots me a conceited look. “Not enough?”
“I’m still deciding. Let’s eat.”
When he lets go of me, my skin feels cold in the places he touched me before. I can’t bear thinking how I will feel when he lets go of me for good.
Chapter Eighteen
Eric
The Bennett house has three levels and a bright red roof on top. The garden is full when we arrive. There must be at least fifty people here, and I spot at least six kids, some of Julie’s age. Most of them stand at the edge of a makeshift soccer field, yelling and cheering for those playing. I recognize Alice, Summer, Sebastian, and Logan on the field. Another group is gathered around what I assume is the grill, judging by the smoke coming out.
Mr. Bennett is sitting under the shadow of an oak tree further away from the field, watching the game. I can’t make out if he’s happy or grumpy, but at least he’s healthy.
“Are all these people your family?” Julie asks Pippa, looking around as though she can’t believe her eyes as we near the soccer field.
“Sort of. Many are cousins, but some are friends—adopted Bennetts.”
“What’s that?” Julie asks, suddenly curious.
“Friends who are very close to us.”
“Can Dad and I become adopted Bennetts?” Julie asks hopefully. “Your family is awesome. Look, Dad, they’re cheering.”
Pippa raises her eyebrows at me, but I know exactly what Julie means.
“Family gatherings in the Callahan family are a different beast,” I inform Pippa. “Mom’s idea of an afternoon in the family resembles a high-class ball where everyone dresses elegantly, and catering of the most expensive kind is consumed while playing cards. It’s highly boring for both Julie and me, and we try to skip those events as often as we can.”
“Doesn’t that upset your Mom?” Pippa inquires.
“No, I’m subtle when I serve her an excuse.”
Pippa chuckles. “I bet she’s pretending. Moms pick up on these kind of things, and subtlety is not your strong suit.”
“That’s not true.” I rub my stomach while watching the smoke rising from the grill. “I’m starving.”
“Hey, Pippa,” a red-faced Summer calls, leaving the field. “Do you want to replace me? I’m so done.”
Pippa doesn’t hesitate. “Sure.”
“I’m on Logan’s team,” Summer says. “Alice and Sebastian are kicking our ass. Here, take my sneakers.” Sitting on the grass, she takes off her shoes and hands them to Pippa, who immediately puts them on.
“See you in a bit.” Pippa winks at Julie and me before hopping onto the field. Summer lies sprawling on her back, barefoot.
“I can’t even feel my legs,” she tells Julie, as Mrs. Bennett arrives with plates filled to the brim with meat and bread. At the sight, Summer pushes herself in a sitting position. She grabs one of the plates without any words and digs in. I can tell what Julie is thinking. At Casa Callahan, lying barefoot on the grass is akin to a deadly sin. It would earn her a scolding, not a plate of food. The chaos here is unbelievable, but I have to admit I love it. It has a family feel to it.
“Eric, Julie, I’m so glad you could make it,” Mrs. Bennett greets, holding out the other plate she was carrying. “Here, I hope you’re hungry.”
“We are,” I answer. Taking the plate, I immediately start gulping down food, and Julie follows my lead.
“Julie,” Mrs. Bennett says, “I can introduce you to some of my nieces and nephews. I think you’d love them.”
Julie nods enthusiastically, peering at me. “Can I go, Dad?”
“Sure,” I reply. “But don’t you want to eat some more before?”
“I’ll eat later.” She’s positively glowing.
“Off you go.”
She and Mrs. Bennett leave, joining the kids’ group. I turn my attention to the soccer field next. Pippa is in her element among her family, though right now she’s frowning in concentration. I’d like to say she kicks ass, but her team is losing. She wasn’t kidding; Alice is a pro.
“Logan’s going to be grumpy again if he loses,” Mrs. Bennett comments. I hadn’t noticed she joined me again. “You have a great daughter, Eric. Pippa told me a lot about her. You did a fine job raising this girl on your own.”
“Thank you, ma’am,” I say. Most of the time, I think I’m doing a decent job raising her, but hearing this from a woman who raised nine kids somehow legitimizes my efforts.
We fall into silence for a few minutes, but I can sense I’m about to get a variation of ‘the talk’ from her.
Sure enough, she eventually says, “You have a great influence on my daughter. She’s the Pippa I remember again.”
“What do you mean?”
Mrs. Bennett tightens her lips. “It takes little to make my daughter happy, and a lot to make her miserable. She was unhappy in her marriage. She didn’t say anything for a long time, but I could tell. Now, she glows again. It has something to do with you.”
“Ma’am, the world is a better place when Pippa smiles. If I’m contributing to that, I’m proud.”
To my astonishment, Mrs. Bennett seems on the verge of laughter. “Pippa is right. You are a charmer.”
“I do my best,” I reply with a straight face.
The crowd around us erupts in cheers, signaling the end of the game. Pippa walks straight in to my arms.
“That was fun,” she announces.
“You
do know you lost, right?” I ask as I wrap my arms around her waist and pull her to me.
She shrugs, pushing strands of her hair away from the damp skin on her face. “No one cares—besides Logan and Alice. I like playing. So… I saw you and Mom talking.”
“That’s right.”
“How did it go?”
“She didn’t scare me off, if that’s what you’re afraid of.”
“Of course she didn’t. That’s my brothers’ job. But don’t worry. I’m here to protect you.”
“You are?” I ask, tightening my arms around her.
“Yep. I am Pippa the Protector and Keeper of Secrets.” She announces this with a completely straight face, and I want to kiss this woman senseless.
“You know, monikers aren’t very valuable if you appoint them yourself.”
“What would you call me?” she asks coyly.
“Hmm, let’s see. Pippa the Cupcake Attacker.”
“Shut up.”
“No, wait, I have a better one. Pippa the Cookie Devourer.”
“Hey,” Blake calls from behind me. “Stop being so cute. You’re surrounded by single people. Have some respect.”
“Go find a girl, Blake,” Pippa calls to him. “Or I’ll put you next on the matchmaking list.”
***
Pippa
The day goes by in a haze. We celebrate Ava’s birthday with an immense cake and by showering her with gifts, and I divide my time between hovering around Dad and making sure Eric and Julie have a good time. Julie is in heaven. She hits it off right away with my cousins’ daughters, and she doesn’t pay Eric or me any attention. We spend most of the time outside, even though the weather isn’t as warm as we hoped. Then again, San Francisco is never as warm as I wish, not even in mid-July.
When my siblings—except Christopher and Max, who aren’t here yet— set out for another soccer game, it’s clear Eric wants to join. I watch the game with Julie by my side, cheering, insulting Logan for playing dirty, and whistling. During the second part of the game, I realize Julie’s disappeared. I look over at the kids’ group, but she’s not with them. My heart leaps in my throat. I ask my nieces about it, and they shrug, saying she went inside the house a while ago. Fear stabs at me as I enter the house. Where’s my girl? Does she have her inhaler with her?