by Lane Hart
“This is…mine?” I ask, my jaw hanging open and my eyes watering.
“Yeah. It’s not much, just some extra equipment I had lying around, but we can upgrade…”
“No, it’s great. It’s perfect. I don’t…I don’t know what to say,” I murmur, overwhelmed by how much work he’s obviously done during the night for me.
Brody comes over to me and grabs me by my waist. “Tell me that you’re going to stay here with me, that we’re going to have a life together, and not even me freaking out about kids, or how old and decrepit I am, will push you away.”
“That’s easy,” I tell him, reaching out to brush the dust from his shirt, but mostly just to touch his hard muscles. Looking up at his face, I say, “I’m not going anywhere because I want us to be together for as long as you’ll have me.”
“I’m already falling in love with you, Riley, and I wanted to do something to show you how much you mean to me.”
“I’m falling in love with you too,” I tell him, winding my arms around his neck to lean up and kiss his lips.
I don’t pull away from him until I use my hands to push his tee shirt up and over his head.
“Help me christen my new office?” I ask. But Brody is already tugging my dress up my body and lowering his mouth to the swells of my braless breasts while I work on getting his shorts off. After I lower them down his legs, he discards his shoes, socks, and the rest of his clothes before he lifts me up by my ass, kissing me as he carries me over to the armless sofa.
My fingers are in his hair when his mouth begins to move down my body, leaving a wet trail down my chest and stomach. Involuntarily, I arch my back, needing his kisses lower.
“Show me what you need, sweetheart,” Brody looks up and says, while swirling his tongue around my belly button.
So I push his head lower. When he gets to my panties, he jerks them down to put his mouth on my flesh, making me writhe and moan.
“Right there! Yes!” I scream, as the tip of his tongue starts lashing at my clit. He knows all the tricks to make me crazy, bringing me to the edge of ecstasy and then backing off, taking turns with my clit and tunneling into my pussy until I’m desperate for a release.
“Please!” I beg him, nearly sobbing at his pleasurable torture. When he finally sucks on my clit and shoves two fingers inside me, I levitate up off the sofa before my body begins to convulse with the nearly painful release.
Brody doesn’t give me time to recover before he moves up my body and fills me with his hard cock. It’s like he’s frantic and can’t get inside of me soon enough, but once he’s buried deep, he relaxes above me. Watching me the whole time, he slowly rolls his hips, making love to me, passionately, tenderly. I don’t doubt the term now, seeing the love for me in his eyes as our bodies join.
…
Brody
“I love you,” I tell Riley as I worship her from above, memorizing how beautiful she is with her dark hair fanned out, her blue eyes soft and filled with emotion, red lips parted.
I swoop down to kiss her while our bodies are connected, giving and taking pleasure like I’ve never felt before.
“I love you,” Riley whispers against my lips, her arms around me holding me to her tightly.
Being with her is so amazing, I don’t want it to ever end. But like everything good in life, it’s over way too soon. Neither of us move afterward though, content to kiss each other softly while our bodies remain connected. The warm, soothing skin to skin contact acts as a healing agent, erasing the past to start fresh with a clean slate.
“I missed you last night,” Riley eventually says. “But I think it was worth it.”
“I missed you too,” I tell her. “I thought you might want some time alone, and that gave me the idea to do this.”
“You worked your butt off,” she says with a grin.
“Nah, it wasn’t that much to do,” I reply. “I thought you should have your own workspace. You don’t have to do boudoir. Whatever kind of photos you decide to do, you’ll be great at it.”
“I still have a lot to learn,” she says, turning her head to glance around the room. “But this is a perfect place to do that.”
“Yeah, I think so too,” I happily agree.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Riley
“While I start closing up, will you check and see if I have any appointments tomorrow?” Brody asks on Monday afternoon.
“Sure,” I agree. He disappears toward the front as I go over and take a seat at his computer.
The last few weeks have been better than I could have ever expected, both relationship-wise and professionally. After the announcement went out on Brody’s social media yesterday afternoon, I’ve had a few of my own clients schedule for the coming weeks. After hours, of course, because Brody refuses to be in the building with women in lingerie, unless it’s me.
The two of us have fallen effortlessly into a routine together, at home and at the studio. In fact, it feels like we’ve been living together for years, not weeks, and I couldn’t be happier.
Moving the mouse to wake up Brody’s desktop computer, I click on his calendar to open it up and see what’s set for tomorrow. The days all blur together here because we’ve been so busy, so I have to look at the date on the bottom of the screen to figure out what today is first.
Wow, it’s already August thirty-first? The month is flying by and tomorrow is the first day of September, which means I’ve been here for four weeks.
Suddenly, I’m even more struck by the date.
Scrolling backwards through the months to May, I realize that the date of my last birth control shot was more than three months ago.
Shit! I completely forgot that I needed to find a gynecologist here to get another one.
Then, when I try to calculate when my period is due, I realize that I’m…more than a week late.
Fuck!
This can’t be happening. It’s probably just the shot making my periods crazy. But if it’s not…
How could I have been so damn stupid and irresponsible?
Maybe my dates are just a little off and I’m panicking for nothing. I need to get a test ASAP to find out for sure.
“Anything?” Brody asks, sticking his head back in the office.
“What?” I ask him in confusion.
“Appointments tomorrow?”
“Oh, eleven and three,” I tell him, checking again to make sure.
“You okay? You look a little pale,” he says with his brow furrowed.
“Oh, um, about that time of the month,” I say. “Would you mind letting me stop by the pharmacy on the way home? I’ll just run in real quick and grab what I need.”
“Yeah, of course,” he answers. “We can go to the one in the shopping center with the La Bamba if you want Mexican food tonight?”
“Sounds great,” I say, forcing a smile on my face, even though the thought of food makes me feel queasy. Which reminds me, I felt the same way at the fundraiser Saturday morning but thought it was just the heat. And then yesterday morning, I woke up nauseous too, but thought that was because of the stressful conversation with Brody and him not coming to bed the night before.
While Brody walks over to pick up our dinner, I’ll take a test to see if I’m pregnant. And if I am, oh God. Brody is not going to be happy. Just two days ago, he was adamant about not wanting to be a father again!
There’s no use getting all worked up until I know for sure, though.
In the shopping center, which is just down the road from the studio, Brody parks in between the distance between the pharmacy and restaurant. He asks for my order and then he goes to the left as I go to the right. Rather than buy a test, wait to get home, then sneak in the bathroom to take it, I grab one from the shelf, pay for it at the register while evading Tom, the friendly owner’s, small talk as best I can, and then hurry back to the restroom to do it right now.
Familiar with the directions from before, I pee on the stick and then busy myself wit
h washing my hands while I wait.
It doesn’t take long for the two bright pink lines to appear.
Oh God.
I’m pregnant. And I have no fucking idea how I’m going to tell Brody.
…
Brody
“How’s your taco salad?” I ask Riley after she pushes the same piece of lettuce around with her fork for at least five minutes.
“It’s good,” she replies. “Just not real hungry.”
“Everything okay?” I ask.
“Yeah, of course,” she says, flashing a smile that disappears as quickly as it appeared. That’s a lie if I’ve ever heard it, and I hate seeing her look so sad, especially knowing what I need to tell her.
I’ve put it off for days now and time is running out.
“There’s something I need to tell you,” I say, causing Riley to look up at me across the table and drop her fork.
“What’s up?” she asks.
“I talked to Sara earlier this week,” I start.
“Oh? How’s she doing?” she asks, just to be polite because I know she doesn’t care for my daughter. Not that I blame her after what I’ve heard Sara say about Riley.
“She’s good. Actually, she has a few days off for Labor Day, and said she’s planning to come down this weekend.”
“Oh,” Riley mutters. “Oh!” she repeats in understanding, her shoulders slumping even more. “You want me gone?”
“Don’t say it like that,” I tell her. “It will just be easier if you stay at a hotel Friday night until Tuesday. Sara knows you’re working with me, but not that you live here.”
“Yeah. Right, of course,” Riley replies. “Actually, I think I’m gonna go home.”
“Home?” I say, confused, because I thought this was her home now.
“I haven’t seen Cheryl in a while, so I could go stay at the apartment in my own bed instead of wasting money on a hotel.”
“Okay,” I agree, even though I wanted her to stay nearby so I could see her whenever possible. “And I guess we should pack up your things, at least from the guest room, in case Sara sees it.”
“Fine, I’ll get started now,” Riley says, jumping up from her chair and taking off down the hallway.
“Riley, wait,” I tell her, putting my burrito down and getting up to follow her. “You don’t have to do it right now. Finish dinner, at least. We have the rest of the week!”
“No, I want to do it now,” she says when I find her in the spare bedroom, pulling out boxes from the closet. “Actually,” Riley starts, setting the box down on the bed, “you don’t have many appointments this week, so I think I’m gonna go ahead and go home tonight.”
“Tonight?” I exclaim, surprised by her urgency to leave. “No, Riley. It’s too late. At least wait until tomorrow…”
When a tear slips down her cheek, I realize how upset she truly is about leaving.
“Sweetheart, don’t cry. Just stay,” I beg her, going over to wrap her in my arms.
“No, I need to go,” she says through her sobs, and then she pushes me away to gather more of her things.
“Dammit, Riley. Would you just stop and talk to me?” I ask, stabbing my fingers through the front of my hair in frustration.
“I want to go, you need me to go, what else is there to say?” she asks, swiping her fingers under each of her eyes to dry her tears.
“How about you tell me why you’re crying?”
“I dunno,” she replies with a shrug.
“Is it because you’re upset I asked you to leave this weekend?” I ask.
“Yes. No. I dunno,” she answers, covering her face with her palms.
“This is what we agreed on,” I remind her. “The only way to make this work!”
“I know,” she says.
“So then what’s going on, Riley?” I ask, sitting down on the bed, waiting for her to talk to me.
She doesn’t answer. Instead, she walks out of the room and goes upstairs. That’s when I realize that this is more serious than I thought, and she really is planning to walk out the door tonight.
…
Riley
I don’t want to leave Brody, but with everything all jumbled in my head after finding out I’m pregnant, and then him pissing me off by kicking me out for Sara, I know I need to go. Back home, I can talk to Cheryl and try to figure out what the hell I’m gonna do.
While I know I agreed to keep our relationship a secret from Sara, that doesn’t mean I like it. If anyone else was Brody’s daughter, I would just beg him to talk to her about us honestly. Not Sara. Of all the people in the world, she will never, ever, accept that the two of us are a couple. And therefore, Brody will never choose me over her. Not that I would ask him to. I may not like Sara but I wouldn’t take her father from her.
My palm goes down to my lower belly as I think about his other son or daughter. He made it clear that he doesn’t want to be a father again, that he’s too old.
God, what am I going to do?
First, I’ll get home, and then I’ll be able to think things through clearly.
“I’m not happy about this,” Brody grumbles from the doorway of his bedroom, as I go back to gathering my clothes from the closet and dumping them into my suitcase. “And she won’t see your things up here. They can stay.”
“Better safe than sorry,” I mutter, unable to miss the irony of that statement. We weren’t safe. Brody was counting on me to take care of our birth control, and I let him down. Even with everything going on with moving and all, I still should have remembered I needed to get the freaking shot. Now everything is ruined.
“It’s late. Just get your things packed and leave in the morning,” he says.
“I’m not tired,” I reply. There’s no way I’ll be able to sleep tonight. I’ll just toss and turn, when I could’ve been on the road, or back at my apartment coming up with a plan.
“I won’t be able to sleep until I know you get back safely,” Brody says.
“When I’m there, I’ll send you a text,” I tell him.
“I won’t be able to sleep without you in my bed for a week,” he adds.
“You’ll be fine,” I tell him, even though I know I’ll miss being in his arms at night. Especially after these last few weeks of getting so used to his warmth and comfort.
“When are you coming back? Tuesday?” he asks.
“I dunno,” I answer.
“Are you trying to make me crazy?” Brody asks, making my lips quirk up.
“No.” I finally stop packing look over at him. “I just need to go, and it seems like a good time.”
“There’s never a good time for you to leave,” he says. “Should I…should I tell Sara not to come?”
“No, Brody,” I answer on a sigh as I grab my underwear from a drawer and shove it in the front zipper of the suitcase. “You should spend time with her. I know that’s what you want.”
“I want you, too,” he says softly.
“I know,” I reply. “But that’s not how it works.”
“Guess I’ll start loading up your things from the guest room into the car, then,” he offers.
“Thanks,” I tell him with a small smile.
Brody stands there, looking at me silently for several seconds, before he walks out the door.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Brody
Seeing my daughter on Friday afternoon is a nice relief from the previous three days of misery.
Riley won’t answer my phone calls, but at least she returns my texts. Her answers are short and to the point, polite even, but they don’t tell me a damn thing. Like, what the fuck is going on with her.
I know having Riley leave the house for a few days isn’t ideal, but I didn’t think she would be this upset about it. We agreed that keeping our relationship a secret was the only way we could make things work.
By Saturday evening, Sara is already bored. There’s not much to do on the island and she doesn’t have her friends with her, like back in Ju
ne.
Although, Riley doesn’t seem to ever get tired of just soaking up the sun on the beach with me. We take runs and long walks together some mornings, and laze around in the surf during the afternoons we have free. It’s paradise, but apparently, it’s not for everyone.
“Can we go out and do something tonight?” Sara asks as we sit in lounge chairs on the sand.
“Sure,” I agree, happy that she just wants to spend time with me. Getting out of the house will help take my mind off of Riley for a little while. “Where do you want to go?”
“Anywhere,” she says. “Dinner?”
“Yeah, wherever you want to go,” I tell her.
“I think I want Japanese,” she decides.
“That works for me,” I agree. “And while we’re out, I’ll grab more sunscreen. I don’t want you to get burnt. Your skin’s not as dark as…” I barely catch myself from saying Riley. “Mine. You’re not as dark as me or as used to the beach sun.”
“Sure, whatever. Anything that doesn’t involve sand is fine with me,” Sara replies, getting up from her chair and shaking out her towel. “I’ll go get ready.”
“Great. I’ll be in soon,” I say as she starts back toward the stairs leading into the house.
As soon as she’s out of sight, I pull up Riley’s number on my phone and try calling her.
Of course, it rings and rings before going to her voicemail. After I hear the beep, I tell her, “Riley, it’s me again. Why won’t you answer your phone?” Sighing in frustration, I continue on. “I miss you and I just want to hear your voice. Please tell me you’ll be back on Tuesday. Call me. I love you. Bye.”
Even though it’s only been a few days, nothing seems right without Riley by my side. The sky isn’t as blue, the great, wide ocean isn’t as magnificent, and I feel like I’m missing a piece of myself.
Heading inside, I shower and get dressed while continuing to check my phone every few minutes. Finally, I get a text message from Riley. Although I would prefer to talk to her, it’s something. Four words, but at least they let me know I haven’t completely lost her, even if it’s starting to feel that way.