Breathe

  “I know. You deserve to hear it all.” He lifts himself and sits on the coffee table in front of me, never taking his eyes from mine. He takes in a deep breath and slowly blows it out. “Rebecca was my girlfriend a lifetime ago. We met the summer before my freshman year of college. She had a boyfriend, Justin, at the time. Neither of us seemed to care she was with us both. I wanted her and I didn't care how I had her. I was the 'other' guy until I pushed her and she had the balls to break up with him. It was hard on her because he was her high school sweetheart.” He pauses to search my face for a reaction. I get what he's looking for, but this bit of information doesn’t affect me in the least.

  “We'd been together a little over three months when she found out she was pregnant.”

  I gasp.

  “I had no idea if this child was mine or Justin's, since she had been with us both. She swore it was mine, but I wasn't truly convinced. I talked to Mama about it and she took Rebecca in to have a Chorionic Villus Sampling done around twelve weeks. This test would tell us within a week if I was the father or not.”

  I can tell he's getting a little nervous. I want to reach out, grab him and hold him tight, but I can't. I need to hear this first. I try to keep my emotions in check and keep a straight face.

  “It turned out that I was the father.”

  I think I might throw up.

  “We were eighteen-year-old kids. I couldn't have felt more like an irresponsible fuck-up. She wanted to terminate but I didn't want her to. We got ourselves into it and I felt we had to take the responsibility for our actions. We told her parents first, which went over pretty well considering. They also thought we should go through with the pregnancy and that Rebecca should stay in school for her first semester at the University and start back again in the summer term.”

  “Then we told my parents. Mama understood our reasoning for wanting to keep the baby. Dad didn't. He was worried about what his colleagues would think and how he would be judged and the possibility that he wouldn’t be re-elected for another term if the voting public found out. He and I fought about it at length. Nothing got resolved that day and I went back to Boston for school. The following weekend I went back to the house without Rebecca to talk to him about it again. I found out he’d paid off her and her parents to keep the pregnancy quiet.”

  “We weren't allowed to see each other anymore either. She dropped out of school and dad moved her family to a home in Pennsylvania near her grandparents. He agreed to pay all of the medical bills as long as she stayed away from the family. She was only allowed to have contact with Mama. I would get updates but only on a bi-monthly basis. I had just moved home for the summer after my second semester ended when Mama told me the baby had been born three weeks prior to my return. I was a father but with no child.”

  He lowered his eyes from mine and dropped his head. He looked devastated while recalling the memories. I reached out and covered his hands with mine. He looked back up at me, turned his hands over, and took my hands in his. An uncontrollable smile peaked at his touch. This prompts him to do the same. It's quickly lost when he continues to tell me more.

  “The following two weeks after I came home were pure hell. All I could think about was Rebecca and the baby. I didn't even know its gender or name. One day a woman showed up at our door with a baby saying she was sent to deliver it to the father. Mama and I were so confused. Dad informed us that Rebecca was giving the baby to the family.

  “I found out much later that she practically begged for us to take it. Dad paid more money to her family for me to have full custody and for her to relinquish her rights as the mother. I was told she didn't want to be a mother anyway and that made the process quick and easy.

  “So, there I was, nineteen years old and the father of a newborn. The family kept the baby loved, warm, safe and fed. Dad got re-elected so we didn't keep it a secret, we just didn't give details unless directly asked. A lot of people had assumed my parents adopted or something. We let them think what they wanted. The last thing dad needed for his campaign and the family business was a baby scandal with a teenage son.

  “When I went back to school, Mama would take care of the baby during the week and I would be home on the weekends to do the fatherly duties.” He smiles again. I can tell he really loves being a dad. He drops to his knees again in front of me and pulls my hands to his chest.

  “You love being a father, don't you?”

  “I do.”

  Oh my God. He hasn't told me where the child is now. Is it with Rebecca? Is that why he went to see her? Does she have custody now? Does he want the kid back? Does he want Rebecca back, too?

  All this time and he’s never told me any of this.

  “I have another really important detail to share with you.”

  I brace myself. “Okay.”

  His eyes go soft. “The baby was a boy. A healthy and happy boy.” His eyes gloss over with unshed tears and he takes a deep breath. Oh my God. He's going to tell me the baby is dead. Or maybe Rebecca took him back and he's trying to get in touch with her to see him again. She has his son and he’s going back to her. I feel sick. I think I might throw up.

  “My son is Kennedy,” he blurts out.

  Chapter Thirty-one

  Holy shit.

  I snap my head up towards him and I'm pretty sure my face looks like it was just hit by a rather large Mac truck.

  Breathe in.

  Breathe out.

  Breathe in.

  Breathe out.

  “I...but he...what?”

  “Everyone assumes he’s my little brother and we let them. Rebecca named him Zachary. But after I got custody of him I legally changed his name to Kennedy. My father thought he should have a family name. Meaning a political one.”

  “I don’t understand. Why doesn’t he live with you?”

  “He stays at the family house so he can be properly taken care of by Mama. We have a great relationship. I see him as often as I can. I pay for almost everything for him. He's the reason I have my hands in so many businesses. I want him to have the best life possible. He's my everything.”

  “I... but...” I'm trying desperately to gather my thoughts. “Is this why you dislike your father so much?”

  “I hate him for what he did to Rebecca and her family. But I owe him at the same time for bringing Kennedy to me. Risking your life for someone changes things.” He smiles and it finally reaches his eyes. “Kennedy has made me a better man. He's taught me what it's like to love and be love unconditionally.”

  The love he has for his son amazes me. The things he’s gone through to be able to be a good father has definitely made him a strong man.

  “He told me that your good for me, good for both of us, and I need to marry you one day,” he says with a half laugh.

  “He what?”

  “You heard me, Grace. He likes that you take him to Asher's hockey games and bake him cookies and watch boy movies with him and play board games with him and let him stay here. He's crazy about you.” He grins even bigger, if that's possible. “I'm crazy about you.”

  “I don’t know what to say.”

  “You’re my everything, too, Grace.” He opens one of my hands and places it palm down against his chest, over his heart. “Do you feel this?”

  I stare at our hands as tears prick the backs of my eyes.

  “You own this. This beats for you.”

  “Linc,” I whisper. I lower my head and release the dam to let the tears freely roll down my face. He lifts my chin with his free hand, leans forward and kisses me. I have not felt these lips for days. I've missed them.

  I've missed him.

  We keep kissing gently, feeling the emotions.

  This is more than just a kiss. Every ounce of his love for me is being poured into my body through this kiss.

  I can taste the salt from my tears as they dip between our lips. He doesn't let go of my hand on his chest. I don't want him to either. I need to feel this. I need to feel him. As I press
harder on his chest his heart speeds up under my palm.

  I slow the kiss and pull back. “I need you to tell me why you were in Boston with Rebecca.”

  Linc pushes himself up and positions his body back onto the coffee table. He nods. “Okay.”

  He inhales a deep breath and lets it out slowly. “Shortly after you left for the Hamptons I got a call from Mama. She told me that Rebecca had called her. She moved to Boston recently for a job relocation. Calling Mama was her way of finding me and Kennedy. She wanted to see us so she gave her my cell. I got the call from her shortly after I hung up with Mama. She talked about regretting giving in to my father's demands and the threats and the payoff. She was crying and...” He tears his sad eyes from mine and hangs his head. Rubbing his forehead.

  I put my hand on his knee. “It's okay, Linc. I know she's important in your life. In Kennedy's life.”

  He raises his head, grabs my hand and squeezes his eyes shut. A full minute passes before he opens his eyes again. Looking deep into mine, he continues.

  “She needed to see him. She deserved to see him. I couldn't deny her that. Even if he doesn't remember her, she's his mother. I had tried to get in contact with her for so many years with no luck. I gave up shortly after Kennedy turned five. But I thought maybe if she were to see him, she would change her mind and want to be his mother again. So, I set up to take him to meet her the next morning. I picked him up from my parents and drove to Boston that night, staying in a hotel. He needed to adjust to the emotions of meeting his mother. I've talked very little about her to him. It wasn't a subject he brought up much, so I didn't have to try to explain the complicated situation to him. Until now. We sat up all night talking about her and what she was like back then. The next morning, we met her at a diner near the Harvard campus for breakfast. I thought being in public would help; keep the emotions in check. I was wrong. She cried about how she thinks about us all the time and misses us every day. She...Oh God.” He jumped up and started pacing back and forth behind the couch running a hand through his hair.

  “Linc...”

  “I can't Grace. I can't tell you more. I can't pull you into this.”

  I remain in the chair but sit back and pull my feet in under my ass. “Into what?”

  “Into...I can't.”

  “Linc, please.”

  “Into this screwed up situation.”

  “I don't understand.”

  He stops pacing, places both hands on the back of the couch and leans into it. “She wants us back, Grace. She wants us to be a family.” He doesn't look at me.

  Why won't he look at me.

  Oh God. Does he want to be a family with her?

  “Oh.” I pick at an imaginary piece of lint on the arm of the chair. “Is that what you want?”

  His head snaps up and those gorgeous but tormented eyes lock with mine. He stalks over to me, drops to his knees and pulls me into him. Wrapping his strong arms around me, he buries his head in the crook of my neck.

  “Never,” he whispers. “You are my family. You are what I want.”

  “What about Kennedy? What does he want?”

  “It doesn't matter what he wants. He's only ten. I make decisions for him.”

  I push back from Linc's embrace. “He deserves to get to know his mother.”

  He takes a deep breath. “I asked him about it the next day. He questions her. He doesn't understand why she’s waited until now to reach out to him. I'm not going to tell him about his Grandfather's hand in the situation. All he needs to know is that she hasn't been around for ten years. She didn't fight for him. I feel bad for her for what my father did, but she could have come to me. I'm a fighter. I would have found a way for her to see him. To be in his life.”

  “What about you? What does she want with you?”

  “It's been a hell of a few days. Can we go to bed and finish this in the morning?”

  “No. I want to know what she wants from you.”

  “Baby, it doesn't matter what she wants. She can't have Kennedy and she sure as shit can't have me.”

  “Is that what she wants? She wants to be with you?”

  He sighs again. “She does.” He takes my jaw in his hands. “She can't have someone who belongs to someone else. I'm yours.” He kisses me. “And you’re mine.”

  He kisses me again. Deeper this time.

  Once again, I push back from him. “Linc, I don't want to come between Kennedy and his mother.”

  “That's not going to happen. You can't come between a relationship that doesn't exist. I'm not going to let her run to us after ten years and act like nothing has changed. Everything has changed.” He kisses me. “He isn't a baby anymore. I'm not a teenager anymore. She is our past. You are our future.”

  He kisses me again.

  I'm sunk.

  I kiss him back this time.

  Hard.

  I've been so emotional and deprived of him for days. I need to feel him. I need to love him.

  We start to paw at each other getting restless and eager to be touching. He grabs the hem of my tank top and pulls it up and over my head barely breaking our connected lips. He slides his hands into the waistband of my shorts as I lift my hips and pulls them down the length of my legs. I pull back from him and grab at his shirt. I yank the shirt over him throwing it on the floor. He grabs my face and brings me to him. Our lips smack against each other fiercely and we begin to make out again. I open my mouth to let him in and he does so with force. Our tongues wrestle as my hands roam his back.

  Linc breaks away and stands. He reaches out and grabs my arms lifting me into his arms. I wrap my legs around his waist and link my arms behind his neck. I kiss up and down his neck and chin, then his jaw. He backs up and sits on the couch moving me so my legs are straddling each side of him. I can feel his manhood pushing on me through our clothes. The barrier between us sucks and I need them off now. As he kisses me, his hands run up and down my back then front. My sensitive skin tingles in the wake of his movements.

  I reach down and release the button of his jeans, taking the zipper down next. He lifts his hips and slides the jeans down his legs past his knees, taking his boxer briefs with them. His big boy stands at attention for me. I grasp it in one hand and begin to stroke up and down. Linc slides his hands to my waist looping his fingers into the band of my thong. With one quick tug, it disintegrate at his hands.

  I deepen the kiss and he growls in my mouth. I lift up on my knees as he places his hands back onto my waist. With his guidance, I slide back down onto his lap taking all of him in. He fills me to my limit and I moan in a mixture of pain and pleasure. He stills for a moment letting my body get the feel of him again. He lifts his hips and we start to move in a synchronized motion. I throw my head back as Linc takes one of my breasts into his mouth. He sucks and nips as we continue to move up and down, up and down.

  My breath is growing shorter and I can feel myself tightening around him. He picks up the pace. I grab at the back of his neck pulling at his hair as he lays his forehead on my chest.

  “Hold on, Grace. This is going to be fierce.”

  He pumps faster and harder.

  He pulls his head back and I close my eyes.

  “Open your eyes, Grace. I want to look into your eyes when you let go.”

  He wraps his arms all the way around me, holding me as close as he can while staring straight into my eyes. They are burning through me with lust and love. As the pleasure reaches its peak, I let go with a wild moan saying a bunch of words that don't even make sense.

  “Ti amo la mia bella ragazza,” Linc growls as he finds his own release. “Fuck!”

  He lays his forehead back on my chest as we both catch our breath. Minutes pass by as we soak in the moment.

  So emotional. So tiring.

  “I need you to tell me something,” he whispers.

  I would tell him anything at this point.

  “Okay.”

  “You were sent pictures of me in Boston.” I no
d hesitantly because we've already established this. “Why was I sent pictures of you and Patrick kissing in the Park?”

  “What?” I question as I pull off of him and stand. I pull on my tank top and go in search of my panties.

  Nice after sex talk we’re having.

  “Pictures, Grace.” He stands and pulls up his boxer briefs and steps out of his pant legs that are hugging his ankles. He walks over to his bag near the foyer entrance. After pulling an envelope out of it, he comes back to me and sits on an arm of a chair. “These were on my desk at Mercury when I stopped there before I left town.” He hands me the envelope.

  I stare at it for a moment. I shake my head and continue my search for the damn shorts. Moving behind the couch I get on my hands and knees and look underneath it. Aha! Not my panties, but I found my missing navy shoe, the one I didn’t throw at Patrick, from months ago. I stand back up and walk around the front of the chair. I spot my shorts peeking out from under the coffee table. I grab them, noticing my panties on the floor nearby.

  “Jesus Christ. You shredded these.” I hold them up for him to see.

  “I did.” He uses his boyish charm and grins at me. “Stop avoiding the question.”

  I scowl as I pull the shorts up my legs. He holds out the envelope for me to take. I grab at it almost crumpling it. I look up at him and then down to the envelope in my hand. I'm scared as hell to open this. I drop the shoe on the floor by the chair. Taking a deep breath, I lift the flap and pull out the contents.

  Damn it.

  It's me and Patrick in Central Park after I ran out of the apartment to meet Rafe. He's holding me. Kissing me. This is not good.

  I look up from the pictures and see Linc staring at me, searching my face for any kind answer. I'm not sure I have one that’ll ease his mind. He's going to go after Patrick for this. He may really hurt him for this.

  “It's not what it looks like.” Ugh. Such a cliché answer. “He was kissing me, but I didn't kiss him back.”

  After a few moments of just staring at each other, I open my mouth to plead to him that nothing is going on with Patrick. Linc beat me to the punch.