“Help me!” I call out to the waitress as I cradle my wife’s limp body in my arms. She fainted—literally passed the fuck out from seeing that.
“Beth? Open your eyes, baby.”
The waitress, Deb, comes back over with a wet towel and a glass of water.
I place the towel on her face, hoping it will jar her back to consciousness and I’m instantly rewarded with the sight of those big baby blues.
She blinks a few times before she realizes she’s lying on the restaurant floor.
“What happened?”
“You fainted after seeing the news story on that missing girl. How do you feel now?”
She closes her eyes again and I worry she’s fainted again on me when she finally speaks. “Truthfully? I feel pretty damn embarrassed. Any chance that everyone in the restaurant left and no one saw?” Her eyes open again and fixate on me.
Another customer chooses that moment to interrupt. “Do you need me to call an ambulance? Is she going to be okay?”
I nod at the man, “She’s going to be fine. Her blood sugar got a little low and left her lightheaded. Thank you for your concern though.”
She smiles at me as he walks off, “Thanks. Any chance we can get our food to go?”
I’m giving myself a headache in an effort to make sense of everything. I remember just enough about Landon to be concerned, but not enough to provide myself with any concrete evidence. I have this sick feeling in the pit of my stomach that actually has nothing to do with morning sickness. At least, I don’t think so—the fainting thing might be related to the pregnancy though.
David ordered us a couple of plates to go while I sat with my head down in the booth. My cheeks burned with embarrassment at drawing the entire café’s attention. We managed to make it home where he promptly ordered me into bed. I can hear him banging away in the kitchen as he gets our lunch ready; I’ve got the strangest feeling of déjà vu, but it’s comforting.
“Hey Beth? Do we still have those wooden T.V. trays?”
“Check the pantry. They’re on one of the lower shelves in the back.” What? Seriously? I cannot remember whether or not Landon is a good person, but I can sure tell you where the T.V. trays are kept.
David comes back in a few minutes later with a tray. He gently sets it in front of me before going back to grab his food. I look at my plate—the chicken fried steak is cut into bite-sized pieces. It’s such a simple gesture, but this man is killing me. Just when I think I’ve got it figured out, he shows up and turns everything upside down.
I blink rapidly and fan my eyes—do not cry…do not cry…
“Baby, you okay?”
I look up at him, although my vision is slightly distorted from the unshed tears. “I’m fine. Just tired.”
He eyes me warily before climbing into bed. We eat in silence while my brain swirls violently back and forth between the man beside me and the man who may or may not be responsible for Katya’s disappearance. Maybe the divorce is a mistake… Could Landon truly be capable of violence? My eyelids grow heavy, something I’m experiencing a lot more with the pregnancy and I drift off.
I awaken hours later to a tickling sensation on my cheek. I’m lying on my side and David’s body is spooned around mine, his nose buried in my hair and his beard tickling my face. His arm is draped across my hip and his hand absentmindedly strokes my stomach. I still.
Does he know?
“Does Jess know you’re here right now?” I don’t know why I say it. It’s unfair, but I could easily slip into this role of playing house with him if I’m not careful. I’m wrapped up in a dangerous fantasy here.
His hand stops moving and I can feel him stiffen up behind me. His voice sounds gravelly when he finally answers me. “No, she doesn’t know I’m here. Why? —you call up Landon and let him know?”
I exhale forcefully, my bladder giving me a painful reminder to end this argument before it gets out of hand, “No—I haven’t spoken to Landon since that day in the parking lot. Considering his ex-girlfriend is missing, I doubt he’d care.”
“You think he did it?”
His question surprises me and I roll over to face him, my unruly hair falling in waves over my face. I brush it out of my eyes and whisper, “I don’t know. I’m sure he’s suspect number one though.”
He reaches out and tucks more strands of hair behind my ear, “I’m not comfortable leaving you alone until we have more answers.”
I pull away from him, “You can’t make that call, David,” I sit up in bed and gesture at him, “You—being here—it’s confusing as hell. I want you almost as much as I want my next breath, but you’re having a baby with Jess. I can’t foresee any outcome that works for us.”
He sits up and grabs onto my arms, “So, you want me. You don’t want to be with Landon?”
My head drops in frustration, “That’s what you took away from this? No, I don’t want Landon. I can’t relate to the woman that cheated on her husband. It makes me sick, but it doesn’t change the fact that it happened,” I pull away and swing my legs down off of the bed, “Now, I have to pee so can we put this on hold for a sec?”
“Yep.” He comes around to help me up.
“I’m fine.”
“Beth, you passed out earlier. I’m not taking any more chances with you today.”
He guides me into the bathroom, but doesn’t leave. “Uh, David, could you wait outside?”
He grumbles about having seen it all before, but leaves nonetheless.
It’s afterward, when I’m washing my hands that the nausea decides to make a sudden reappearance. I clench my teeth together in a vain attempt to keep the chicken fried steak in my stomach. I will force my stomach to obey me.
Just wait until he’s gone.
Once he’s gone, I can vomit to my heart’s content. Seriously?
Please stomach, I’ll give you a cracker.
My stomach and I are not on the same page. I begin dry heaving and then my lunch comes up, followed by breakfast. I’m trying to do it as quietly as possible, but I hear the bathroom door open.
“Beth? Jesus, are you okay?” David comes over and pulls my hair back out of my face, “Let me get you a wet washcloth.”
I nod, or at least I think I do and sit back against the wall. He places the cold washcloth against the back of my neck and picks me up as though I weigh nothing. After letting me brush my teeth, he lifts me again. A small part of me thinks I should fight him on this, but I don’t have the energy at the moment. He talks to me as he carries me back to bed, the deep timbre of his voice soothes me.
“—you ate the same thing as me so I wonder if you might have a bug or maybe just the stress of the day got to you.” He places me on the bed before continuing his thoughts, “Either way, I want you in bed resting. I’ll run out and get you some ginger ale—”
I place my hand on his arm, “David, you’ve done enough. Really. I just need to sleep and I’ll feel better. You can go, I’ll be fine.”
He tenses up, “I already told you I’m not leaving you alone. Not until we know for sure that Landon had nothing to do with that girl’s disappearance. Why do you have to be so stubborn?”
I push him away and lay my head back on the pillow, “Why’d you have to sleep with my best friend?”
He reels back as though I’ve slapped him. It’s low, but I’m scared he’ll find out I’m more than just sick if he stays here any longer. I can’t handle the added stress right now.
His voice is quiet, “I’m going to go out and get you a few things. I’ll be back later.” He skips over the emotional slap I just gave him and kisses me on the cheek before leaving.
I’m an asshole.
I grab my phone off of the nightstand, nearly upending a glass of water in the process. I send a text to Lauren.
Me:
You free tonight? I’m thinking the only way I’m going to get David out of this house is if you sleep over.
Lauren:
I don’t have plans,
but wouldn’t you rather David sleep over?
I’ll just run you a nice cold shower if you get all hot and bothered again.
Me:
Had my head in the toilet about twenty minutes ago…
not really in the mood for romance.
See if Mike can take David out and then we’ll be golden.
Lauren:
There’s a missing person case he’s been working on, so I haven’t had a chance to see him today. I doubt he’ll be leaving the office anytime soon though.
Me:
Yeah, I heard about that.
We can discuss it more when you get here.
Lauren:
Let me finish up this load of laundry
and I’ll head your way in an hour or so.
I place the phone back on the nightstand along with my glasses. I’ll just rest my eyes for a few minutes.
I’m at a large indoor pool, swimming laps, when I hear an infant cry. I stop swimming and begin looking around. There’s a baby no more than a few hours old lying on one of those inflatable rafts in the middle of the pool. Its screams echo off the concrete walls and I begin to swim toward it as fast as I can. Somehow the pool has gotten larger and it seems to be taking me forever to get there. I feel its wailing in every fiber of my being and I know that this isn’t some random child—it’s my baby. I urge my body to move faster, my heart racing. I’m about ten feet away when the raft begins to disintegrate and the child slips into the water. The cries stop immediately and I scream “no” until my voice is hoarse. I dive under the water and reach out my arms for it. Just as I’m about to make contact, strong arms wrap around me and pull me back toward the surface. I’m fighting for all I’m worth now to get free, but it’s useless. The person holding me is too strong.
“Hush, you’re safe now. You’re safe now.” Landon’s words chill me and I continue struggling in his arms.
“My baby! My baby! Let me go!” I can see the baby still struggling and anguish covers me like a blanket.
He’s got this maniacal grin on his face and he grips me even tighter, “You’re safe here. Shhhh…..Shhhh…You’re safe here.”
“Shhhh…Beth, you’re safe. Wake up!”
I sit up with a scream, wrapped in strong arms. I begin fighting to break free, convinced Landon is still holding on to me.
“Beth, baby, it’s me! Stop fighting me.”
I begin weeping. Guttural sobs wrack my body. What the fuck was that? It felt so real.
David pulls me into him, rocking us back and forth on the bed. He doesn’t ask any questions and I briefly wonder if nightmares are a common occurrence with me. I’m an out-of-control hormonal wreck, bouncing between emotions like a pinball machine, and yet here he is. Holding me. Loving me.
His hands tangle in my hair as he crushes me to his chest. My heart is still pounding and I try to steady my breathing.
He murmurs into my hair, “Good girl. Deep breaths—in and out. I’ve got you. I’m not letting you go.”
I cling to him, “It was a nightmare, but it felt like it was real.”
He laughs, “You were screaming the house down when I walked in,” his laugh dies away, “I thought someone was hurting you. I ran in here ready to fight and you were thrashing around screaming about a baby.”
I stop breathing. No.
I try to make my voice sound calm, “Oh?”
He doesn’t seem to notice my reaction and continues, “Yeah. I didn’t understand at first, but I think I do now.”
Here we go.
He elaborates, “You’ve had to deal with the fact that I’m having a baby with someone else and you wish it was us. I get it. If I could go back and do things differently, I would. The fact that it’s causing you nightmares kills me.”
I exhale slowly, “I guess I didn’t look at it that way.”
I’m safe. My secret will remain just that. I’m feeling pretty proud of myself for not giving anything away, so much so that I don’t think through my next actions.
I pull back slightly and look up at him. The last remaining rays of sunlight filter through the window, illuminating his face. His hair and beard look almost golden brown in the light, he’s absolutely stunning. I press my lips to his jaw, my eyes never leaving his. I kiss a trail down his jawline and stop at the corner of his mouth. He’s remaining absolutely still, but I can feel his heart beating out a strong rhythm underneath my hand.
I close my eyes and move my mouth over his. For a man whose hands are callused and rough from years of hard labor, his lips are surprisingly soft. The sparks are off the charts and I worry that they’ll light a fuse, causing me to self-destruct. I ignore my doubts and instead turn reason over to my mouth, exploring the man I pledged to love until death.
He lays me against the pillows and my hands move down to grip the hem of his t-shirt. He grabs the back of the collar and lifts it over his head effortlessly, his ink on full display. Tattoos coat his muscular arms, the corded veins a testament to how hard he’s worked to get his company where it is today. He’s never been afraid to get his hands dirty. I pause as the memory catches me off guard. Memories of him coming in from work—early in our marriage, covered in sawdust and drywall, pour in and I remember vividly that he never once complained about how hard it was to get his company launched.
“You want a notebook for all the studying you’re doing over there?”
I look up at his face, “I can’t help it. I didn’t exactly get a lot of time to look you over the last time.”
He smiles and leans down, lifting my tank top up and over my head, “My turn…I didn’t get to see you the last time.”
I giggle, “Liar.”
He brings his mouth back down over mine and my only thought is more. More of this. More of him. I don’t think it’ll ever be enough, which is going to make this even more difficult. I’m letting him in on an impulse, but I fear that when he leaves he’ll be taking a big part of me with him.
He rocks his body into mine and I arch up into him, needing the friction. A moan involuntarily escapes and he takes it as his cue to continue. David uses one hand to brace himself, while the other is on my lower back, guiding me. He can’t be comfortable in those jeans, but he doesn’t seem to be in any hurry to get them off. I reach down and fumble my way through undoing his belt buckle while his hand moves up to unclasp my bra. I free him from his jeans and boxer briefs and pull him into me. I’m so close. My breathing becomes heavier and he increases his movements against me. I come with a cry and a death grip on his waist. Does pregnancy make orgasms more intense?
He stops moving against me, “Watching you come is absolutely fucking beautiful, babe.”
My breathing is ragged and I can’t find my voice. I unbutton my Capri pants, but his hand stops me.
“No. We’re not doing that.”
I scoff, “Why the hell not?”
“I told you I was going to win you back. Until you call off the divorce, this is as far as it goes.”
I sit up and reach for my bra, “You’re serious right now? You’re going to hold out unless I call off the divorce? Who does that?”
He adjusts himself as he pulls his pants back up. Seeing as to how he’s still rock hard, I’m not sure how he’s expecting that to work. “I’m serious, Beth. I want you forever, not one night. I think you’ll find that I can be very patient.”
He reaches for his shirt just as we hear a voice call out from the living room, “You know who else is patient? Me. I’ve been sitting here quietly playing Candy Crush for the last twenty minutes while you two are in there not having sex.”
I stifle a laugh and look over to see David is grinning as well. Leave it to Lauren to lighten the mood. He tosses me my shirt and I try and make myself look presentable before leaving our bedroom.
We exit the room sheepishly, like a couple of teenagers just busted for breaking curfew. Lauren is sitting on the couch with her feet propped up on the ottoman, happily playing on her phone.
She g
lances up at us. “Well, hey there! I made myself comfortable. I hope that’s okay. What am I saying? Of course it is. I probably could’ve loaded up the nice electronics without anyone noticing,” She tosses her phone down on the couch, “Now, who needs a cold shower?”
I laugh at Lauren’s words, but I am in desperate need of a cold shower or at the very least, non-restrictive clothing.
“Lauren, you staying the night?”
She grins, “Yes, under one condition.”
I gesture for her to spit it out, “And that condition would be?”
“Promise me that you eased her sexual tension and that I don’t have to be worried about her sneaking into my room tonight.”
I look over at Beth, her face turning a lovely shade of crimson. Forgetting the physical discomfort I’m in for a moment, I give her a seductive smile, “I dunno, baby. You gonna be good for a while or should we go back and try again?”
She refuses to make eye contact with me when she answers, her eyes glued to the carpet. “Nope, I’m good. Thanks for lunch earlier.”
I walk over and stand in front of her until she looks up. I lower my voice, “You sure?”
Before she can answer, I pull her into me, my mouth claiming hers as mine. I pull away when she puts her hands on my chest. “Let me know if you change your mind, Beth,” I glance at Lauren on my way to the door, “Lauren, always a pleasure.”
She looks up from the phone she seems to have picked up again, “Same here, David. Same here. Oh, call Mike when you get a chance. I was supposed to tell you the minute I got here, but I decided that was a sight I did not need ingrained in my mind,” she waves cheerily, “Take care.”
I towel dry off after a long, somewhat satisfying shower and fish a pair of black sweatpants out of my bag. I should probably unpack my things and put them into drawers, but I feel like that would make this seem like a permanent thing.
Forsaking All Others (From This Day Forward Book 2) Page 6