On His Turf
Page 25
“You’re mine. This baby is mine and you are abso-fucking-lutely crazy if you think I’m going to live without either one of you.”
He carries me over to the bank of lockers and reaches behind my head to unlock his. He sets me down then rummages around inside for a minute and when he finds what he’s looking for he pulls it out and places it in my palm. I look down at the black velvet box and my pulse picks up.
“I’d get down on to one knee but I’m afraid if I do I’ll lose the towel,” he gives me a naughty grin and I pop open the box and gasp. Resting inside on a black velvet cushion is the most beautiful diamond solitaire ring that I’ve ever seen. It’s a sparkly round stone with two delicate white gold bands weaved around it and it’s exactly my taste.
“You keep this here?” It’s the first thing my brain thinks to say but he just shrugs.
“It’s a guys’ locker room. It seemed as safe a place as any,” he says, grinning wide. “Marry me, Carmelina Dahl.”
“You’re proposing to me in a towel,” I say more as a statement than a question.
“I am,” he laughs before lifting me into his arms and walking me over to the counter.
“There’s no real point in fighting it, babe. You know I always get what I want and what I want is you forever so marry me,” he repeats, resting his forehead against mine. The tears fall easily now and I don’t even bother trying to wipe them away. Instead I wrap my arms around his neck and press my lips against his soft, full ones.
“Yes, definitely, yes,” I say, through the tears and he lifts me under my ass and kisses me hard. I pour into the kiss all the frustration, anger and longing that’s been building over the last four months and as my lips move frantically against his I can’t believe that I ever thought I could do this without him. Shane and I just balance each other out - we are so much better together.
“Let me get dressed,” he says gruffly, pulling back and swiping his thumb across my damp, swollen mouth. “I have something I want to show you.”
“Now?” I whine as he sets me back down on my feet. Though I’m curious about what he wants to show me my body is practically starving for Shane’s touch.
“Now,” he says firmly and I pout. “I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important,” he adds chuckling. “Trust me, Carmelina, can you do that?”
The way he asks tells me he doesn’t just mean right now. He’s asking is if I can trust him again after everything that’s happened since he knows trust isn’t something I’m used to giving people. But Shane has opened me up, driven me wild and freed me in ways that I never thought possible. Do I trust him? I ask myself as I stare into his beautiful eyes. More than anything.
“I can do that,” I answer and his eyes light with understanding.
He takes my hand and we walk to the front lot where his massive black truck is parked. He lifts me into the passenger seat and I’m about to protest that I’m too heavy but he anticipates my objection. “You’re still a tiny little thing, babe. A handful of baby isn’t going to change that so don’t hurt my manhood but suggesting that I can’t lift you,” he teases. Once we are both inside the truck he revs the engine and peels out with such urgency that I swear he must leave tire tracks in his wake.
“Oops,” he looks at me a little sheepishly and I laugh.
“Excited are we?” I tease.
“You have no idea.”
We drive to the west side of Texas to an area about fifteen minutes outside of downtown. I look out the window as we cruise along a tree-lined street of older well-established homes with nicely trimmed lawns. He stops the truck in front of a beautiful pale yellow two story house complete with a front porch and blue shuttered windows. There’s a patch of green grass out front, lush flower beds and a low white picket fence surrounding it.
“Where are we?” I ask, unclicking my seatbelt.
“We’re home,” he answers and I detect a note of smugness in his voice that I can’t quite decipher. He opens his door and comes around the truck to collect me. We link hands and he unlatches the gate and leads me along the path to the front door.
“You’re going to have to be a little more specific than that,” I say, thoroughly confused.
“The neighborhood is full of kids and we’re in one of the best school districts in Austin,” he adds.
“I don’t understand,” I say, shaking my head as I survey the house. Everything about it appeals to me and it’s like someone ripped the images out of my head and built my dream home in perfect detail right down to the tree out front. My tree.
I instantly notice how the desert willow in the yard bears an uncanny resemblance to the one I grew up with. Shane must see me looking because he smiles and tugs me by the hand over to it.
“It’s yours. I had it uprooted and replanted here so you’ll always have a piece of where you came from with you,” he says proudly and my words catch in my throat. “It’ll also make a good tree house to hide out from me in when I piss you off - which is bound to happen a lot,” he adds on a grin.
“You moved my tree?” I hiccup out a sob before launching myself into his arms. “Other than the baby inside of me it is the most beautiful gift you ever could’ve given me. Thank you.” I sniff, squeezing my arms around him. “But the house? It’s too much.”
“Well too bad because it’s already paid for and I’ve been renovating it for months now. There’s even an office for you to write in,” he says, releasing me from his hold.
“What about your condo?” I say.
“It’s sold and currently in escrow. I’m tired of that life and I think it’s about time I had a new one.”
“So you bought me a house?” I say cautiously and he tightens his grip on my hand.
“I bought us a house. Look, I know this probably goes against all of your stubborn, independent instincts but the truth is I don’t really give a shit. I want you and my baby with me. I want to watch you chase him around this yard while I barbecue. I want to watch you drinking coffee on the front porch while I teach my son to play soccer. I want to fall asleep beside you every night. I will always want you. There is no doubt in my mind.”
“I will always want you too,” I whisper. “From the moment I met you I knew I was lost. Thank you, Shane Mitchell, for giving me all of this. But more importantly, thank you for giving me you.”
Epilogue
5 years later
I watch the two of them play out on the front lawn from the big picture window in my home office. My first born furrows his brows and bites his lower lip in that adorable way he does when he’s concentrating hard on something. He has a soccer ball balanced under one tiny cleat and he’s entirely focused on what his dad is saying. Shane has one of the little pug nets set up and he’s trying to get Connor to shoot the ball. He leans down and touches the inside of my son’s foot and though I can’t hear what he’s saying a wide smile spreads across his face when Connor makes contact and the ball goes sailing into the net.
Shane has a surprising amount of patience for someone who’s used to coaching premier level college students - a job he took on after retiring from the team last year. Witnessing the bond that the two of them share is unlike anything I ever could have imagined and it fills my heart to the point that sometimes I think it’s going to burst. I lose myself in watching them together and it is not until the baby monitor rouses me from my thoughts that I press save on the story I’m working on and get to my feet.
As I exit my office I pass by the Pulitzer trophy I won last year for Excellence in Investigative Journalism. The pride I felt was way more important than the $25,000 prize which we donated to Mental Health Awareness in Shane’s late brother’s name. The piece I did on the Petroleo Energy Corporation truly launched my career and now most of my pieces focus on political corruption and corporate wrongdoing — exactly what I always wanted to do.
I climb the stairs to Mason’s room where I find him standing up in his crib. He’s almost too big for it now at twenty months. Fresh tears st
ain his sleepy face and he raises his chubby arms in the air and waves when he sees me. I lift him out of the crib and burrow my face into his neck to inhale his scent. I remember before I had my own children thinking that people were nuts when they talked about how good babies smell but it is the kind of thing you have to experience to believe. When I pull back he blinks his ocean blue eyes at me and tugs on a strand of my hair. As I watch his little face come to life I count my blessings for this beautiful family of mine.
“Momma, happy?” He coos, pressing his fingers against my mouth.
“Momma very happy,” I laugh as I carry him over to the change table.
Once Mason is in a fresh diaper we head downstairs and out front to join the other two. The leaves have started to change color and even though the late afternoon sun is still low in the sky there’s briskness in the air that can’t be ignored.
“It’s getting cold, Shane. I think he needs a sweater,” I shout across the lawn while keeping my eyes trained on Connor. Shane lifts him high up in the air and swings him around in a circle before carrying him over to the porch.
“He has probably had enough of daddy’s training anyway,” Shane answers, chuckling. “I’m pretty sure he stopped listening to me about a half an hour ago.”
I look down at Connor who yawns and wraps his arms around my leg. “Mommy?” Connor says in a muffled voice.
“Yes baby?”
“Can I play hockey instead of soccer?” he asks and I burst out laughing as Shane’s jaw drops.
“You can play anything you like,” I assure him and he smiles at me before running into the house. I listen to the sound of his studs as they scrape along the tile floor on the way to the kitchen.
“Are you sure he’s mine?” Shane teases and I punch him in the arm with my free hand. Mason giggles as Shane makes a face at him and I am reminded that he’s not wearing a coat either.
“I should get this little guy inside too,” I say as I tighten my hold on him.
“Please, we Mitchell men can handle a little cold,” Shane scoffs, puffing out his chest. “We can handle anything.”
“There’s no doubt in my mind,” I say. “But I’m cold so I’m going in.”
Shane steps closer and pulls us both against his chest. “You want me to warm you up, babe?” his voice teases as his breath tickles my neck. I wish I could say that I’m surprised that the heat between us is still going strong after five years but I’m not - what Shane and I have between us was chemical from the very start and I still burn for him. And while our love has strengthened and matured in so many ways our lust hasn’t fizzled out at all. His soft lips kiss a trail down my neck and along my collarbone and when I step away he releases a low moan. “Is it bedtime yet?” he asks jokingly and I roll my eyes.
“We haven’t even had dinner yet. The lasagna is in the oven and I still have to make the salad,” I answer and he scoops Mason into his arms and plants a kiss on the top of his head.
“I’ll take little man into the den and show him one of the euro cup games I have recorded. Maybe I can stage an early intervention with this one,” he says while toeing off his cleats at the front door.
He throws Mason up on to his shoulders making him squeal and clap his hands together. “Can I play hockey he says…” Shane grumbles as he disappears into the den.
I pause on the porch to stare out at the yard. The sun has dipped low behind the tree that has managed to survive and thrive in its new home. As I look at my tree I think of how easy it would be to dwell on all the nights I spent huddled in its branches wishing on the stars for a different life. But I don’t. Now what that tree represents to me how is how far I’ve come and how lucky I am to have the life I’m living now.
The first little while after Connor was born I battled with constant anxiety thinking that things were too perfect and carrying around the notion that having everything I wanted meant having everything to lose. But nothing is perfect and I realize that now. Shane and I fight, especially when he accuses me of working too hard or when I have to go out of town for research. We sometimes disagree about parenting; when to toilet train, how to discipline, and whose turn it is to get up at 5:30 in the morning to watch Dora the Explorer with the first riser. He still thinks I’m stubborn and at times I find him overwhelming. He hates the cinnamon scented candles I buy and it drives me nuts the way he leaves his dirty sport socks all over the house. It’s not perfect but it’s real, which in a way kind of makes it perfect.
We also argue about how much his parents spoil the boys. It’s hard for me because while I appreciate how doting and loving they are from someone like me who grew up with next to nothing it often seems over-indulgent. And Shane is trying to come to terms with my mother knowing what my childhood was like. He’s polite enough to her but I can feel him hovering when she comes around to see the boys - not that I can blame him. But she just got her five year sobriety chip and she’s living independently now and dating a nice accountant so I’m optimistic for the future.
Matty or ‘unkie Matt’ as the boys call him married Kyle last year at a beautiful ceremony up in Canada. They relocated to Houston for Kyle’s work so I don’t seem him nearly as much as I’d like to but the boys adore them both. And while we are still close our relationship changed when Shane and I started out life together. I think it’s because there’s really only room for one best-friend in my heart and my husband is my best friend. But that said my network of friends has grown larger since setting down roots and allowing myself to open up. In addition to Leigh I have a few close friends from the neighborhood and I’ve made connections with some of the wives from the team. Add to that Shane’s family and we have a strong network of love and support surrounding us.
When Mason came along after Connor Shane couldn’t have been happier. In fact, he told me he’d love it if we had enough kids to fill a soccer team but that’s not happening in this lifetime. But what Shane doesn’t know yet is that our roster is about to get a little bigger. I rest a hand on my stomach and close my eyes - I’m nine weeks along today and I heard the heartbeat at my doctor’s appointment this morning so I’m telling him over dinner tonight. I secretly hope that it’s another boy because there’s something so incredible about knowing that you’re raising good men. They run me ragged with their constant energy but I love their spirit and their honesty. Becoming a mother has showed me a love that’s so instinctively fierce that it quite literally takes my breath away and I love them like nothing else in this world.
The wind picks up and I close my eyes and listen to the peaceful breeze as it rustles through the trees. When I turn back to the house I see the warm light glowing from within, I hear the play-by-play blaring from the TV in the den and Mason’s sweet little voice as he blabs to his daddy. I smell the rich mingled scents of tomato and garlic from the homemade lasagna that’s bubbling in the oven and I send up a silent thank you to the universe for giving me my family, my home and for leading me down the right path, albeit kicking and screaming, to Shane.
THE END
Acknowledgements
Thank you to my mom, Diane Johnston, who reminds me often that ‘life is not a dress rehearsal’ and that we should endeavor to spend our time doing the things we love. Like reading and writing e-books, playing soccer, participating in mud runs, catching sun on sandy beaches and talking rainy dog walks with the family and most importantly spending time with my husband and my beautiful little boys.
Thank you to everyone in my family including my generous and loving granddad, Alan Dow. And a special thank you to my husband Thorsten for not taking it personally when I get into the zone and start frantically scribbling down scenes. Writing a book is a lot harder than it looks so a shout out to all of the authors out there who toil and sweat to make it happen.
I also want to recognize my soccer team the CCB Outlaws for keeping me in the game and my dad, Ken Johnston, who despite staring down the age of sixty five still plays soccer at least three times a week. And thank you to
the Vancouver Whitecaps FC for the inspiration; I believe it was a game a few years back against the Chivas USA that got the creative wheels turning. And last but not least thank you to the fans and readers out there. Your ongoing support makes e-publishing possible and encourages me every day to never give up on my passion.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Contents
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Epilogue
Acknowledgements