Secret Baby: A Second Chance Navy SEAL Romance (Forbidden First Times Book 4)

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Secret Baby: A Second Chance Navy SEAL Romance (Forbidden First Times Book 4) Page 6

by Sofia T Summers


  Jared guided me over to the table where I sat down and began catching up with my siblings. Growing up, we had all been so close. It was like nothing I had ever experienced before, and being around my brothers and sisters made me yearn for a big family of my own. Jasmine told me all about her latest boyfriend – Mom had always called her the “pretty” one in the family, she was the only one of us with blonde hair and blue eyes – and Jakob launched into a story about working at Home Depot.

  It felt good to catch up with everyone and with a pang of guilt, I realized that I had been absorbed in my own drama for so many days that I’d barely had time to think about my family. I had missed them, all of them. I’d missed how Jellyn snorted when she laughed and how Jason had a habit of talking with his hands. Growing up, all of my friends had always said that they’d had a hard time telling us apart but that had always seemed so ludicrous to me. Each one of my siblings was distinct, with their own personality, and being with all of them at once felt like I was a puzzle piece, sliding into place to complete the picture.

  Mom served dinner – tater tot casserole, which had been my favorite growing up – and soon, the plates were empty and I was helping her clear the table. My siblings took Olive outside to play in the backyard, leaving just my mother, Jared, and me to do all of the dishes.

  “Thanks for your help, honey,” Mom said when we were done. There were fine lines around her eyes that I hadn’t noticed before, and with a pang, I realized that I wasn’t the only one getting older. Soon, Jared or me would be the one hosting all of our siblings – Mom was getting too old to cook for nine kids these days.

  “That was great,” I told my mother. “Thanks for having everyone over. It’s so nice to catch up.”

  “Well, hon, it’s not like we live very far away,” she said, raising an eyebrow. “You and Olive are always welcome here.”

  I sensed a hidden meaning in her words, as if she were saying: Since you’re single, you may as well be here all the time!

  “I know,” I told her. “We appreciate that, but we’ve been busy. Work has been crazy lately, and—”

  “You’re still just a secretary?” Mom asked.

  I frowned. “Administrative assistant,” I told her. “And the station needs me – my boss, Donna, says that all the time.”

  “I know you’re important,” Mom said. “But don’t you want to do something else? You know – make more money and be able to save for Olive’s college fund?”

  I didn’t say anything. Mom’s words had hit home, as they always did, and suddenly I was filled with a strange mixture of sadness and nostalgia.

  “Maybe,” I said finally. “I’m going to check on Dad.”

  When I peeked into the living room, I saw Dad dozing off in a recliner. I stood there for a moment, wondering if I should wake him. Jared came up to me and put his hand on my shoulder.

  “Hey, you,” he said.

  “Hey,” I said quietly, so as not to disturb our father. “You feel like going outside?”

  “Sure,” Jared said. He glanced at the French doors that led to the backyard, where our siblings and Olive were laughing and tumbling around on the ground. But I shook my head.

  “Let’s go out this way,” I said, nodding to the front door.

  Jared followed me outside and I walked over to the white wrought-iron bench that was sitting next to my parents’ circular driveway. We sat down and I bit my lip, then stared down at my hands in my lap.

  “What’s going on?” Jared asked.

  I eyed him. “How can you tell?”

  “We’re twins, dummy,” Jared said affectionately. “I can always tell. You got boy trouble?”

  I snorted. “How about you,” I said, desperately hoping to change the subjection. “How’s your boy trouble going?”

  Jared laughed. “You know me, honey,” he said, batting his lashes and preening. “It’s like I have three Friday nights in a row. Monogamy is overrated,” he added. “At least, for me.”

  “I can’t stop thinking about Ben,” I admitted after we stopped laughing. “I’ve been dreaming about him like, all the time. It feels so real. I don’t know how to make it stop, and it hurts so much sometimes that I can hardly breathe.”

  “Wow, talk about light and easy,” Jared said.

  I didn’t laugh. Being sad was such a rare state for me that I didn’t know what to do with myself.

  “If it wasn’t for Olive,” I continued. “There would be days where I couldn’t even get out of bed. That’s how much it hurts.”

  Jared rested his head on my shoulder. “That’s love for you, sweetie,” he said. “Hurts like a bitch.”

  “My life is good,” I said with a frown.

  “Who are you trying to convince,” Jared asked. “Me or yourself?”

  I sighed. “It is good,” I said. “I have Olive, and I love her to bits and pieces. I can’t imagine my life without her in it.”

  “She’s a sweet kid,” Jared said.

  “I just always thought that things would be different,” I confessed. “I thought I’d get married young and have a whole heap of kids, just like Mom and Dad. That’s what I wanted.”

  “Hon, we don’t always get what we want,” Jared said, not unkindly. “And really, you felt like being pregnant for what, almost ten years straight?”

  “It’d be worth it for the kids,” I replied.

  Jared was quiet for a moment.

  “I’ve made the most of things. I know that I have,” I said. “But sometimes ... oh, sometimes I just miss what it felt like to be in a relationship. To be wanted. To feel that passion, to feel that connection with someone.”

  “The passion is the easy part,” Jared said. He rolled his eyes. “And trust me – it’s hella overrated sometimes. I wish I could find a guy who would just be fine with like, hanging out on a weekend in our sweats and going for brunch.”

  I swallowed.

  “Ben and I never would have lasted, anyway,” I said softly. “His family always thought we were trash. Remember?”

  “Ah,” Jared said, clutching his chest dramatically. “The rich boy and the girl from the wrong side of the tracks ... what could go wrong?”

  “That wasn’t enough to keep us apart back then, but it probably would have caught up with us,” I mused.

  Jared didn’t reply.

  “Nothing was enough to keep us apart,” I said. “Back then, I feel like we would have done everything for each other.”

  “Jess,” Jared said slowly. “No offense here, but why now? Why are you so upset? He left years ago.”

  The word ‘left’ was almost enough to bring tears to my eyes but I blinked them back.

  “You know what,” I said. “You’re right. I ... I don’t even know why I’m wasting time being sad over this. He’s never coming back.”

  “But you’re still angry.”

  I got to my feet and I nodded.

  “Yeah,” I said. “I’m angry, because he’s a coward. Asshole couldn’t even have the decency to break up with me like a normal person.”

  Saying the words out loud helped – I could feel the deep sadness inside of me changing into hot anger, and I swallowed hard.

  “He’s a coward,” I repeated. “Only a coward would leave without a word.”

  And with that, I shoved my hands into my pockets and stalked into the house.

  8

  Benjamin

  After meeting with my sister, I was more determined than ever to see Jessie again and explain myself. I’d lost my courage the first time. Seeing Jessie and her little girl, well, it had been a blow.

  I was going to find a way to move past this, though. I just wanted to tell her the truth – tell her what happened and apologize. Tell her that I still loved her.

  After I did that, it would be up to her. If she was married and happy, well, I had to believe that I’d be willing to let her go for the sake of her own happiness. I wasn’t going to do what Margot had accused me of – break up a happy relationshi
p just for my own selfish gains.

  But I had to know how she felt. I was going to have to hear it from her, or I’d never accept it as truth.

  Seeing her hadn’t just shocked me. I had cherished a mental image of her for so many years, but seeing Jessamine in the flesh again had made my blood run hot with lust. Seeing her big, ripe body playing and cavorting in the yard had awakened something long dormant inside of me. Back on the ship off the Somalian coast, I had gotten so used to living and working with just men that I’d nearly forgotten the effect a woman could have on a red-blooded man. Since I’d seen her that day, I hadn’t been able to stop thinking of tiny little memories, tiny little details. I knew just how to torture myself. Remembering her soft skin. The way she’d moan when I touched her body. The musky, sweet smell of her pussy ... and how soaking wet she used to get for me after I teased her for hours. The way that she’d give herself over to pleasure and roll her hips on me like a stripper giving the world’s best lap dance.

  Just the thought of her was driving me insane and if I didn’t do something about that soon, I knew I would likely suffer for the rest of my life.

  That afternoon, I was looking into commercial spaces for rent in downtown Wilmington. I hadn’t totally abandoned the idea of starting my own bodyguarding agency, and if I was going to do that right, I’d need an office. Besides, looking at spaces gave me something to do that wasn’t totally Jessie-related.

  None of the spaces were right, though. I wanted something that would both impress clients and reassure them – that they would be safe with me, safe from whatever they needed protection from.

  Just as the realtor was leading me into the last showing, my phone buzzed in my pocket.

  “Sorry,” I said gruffly. “I need to take this.”

  She nodded – she was a little blonde slip of a thing, who couldn’t keep her eyes off me – and blushed as I left the building and swiped open the call.

  “Benjamin, it’s your mother,” my mother’s voice said on the other line. “I’d like to speak to you.”

  I clenched my jaw. “What about?” I asked. “Did Margot call you?”

  “Margot? No,” she said primly. “This is about you. Well, you and your future.”

  “Mother,” I said, trying not to sigh. “I told you, I—”

  “Just listen to me,” she said. “You remember Bunny Cartwright, don’t you?” Without waiting for me to continue, she bulldozed on: “Well, she has a daughter who’s visiting Wilmington this weekend. She’s thinking about nursing school here, isn’t that sweet? And I’d love for you to take her out. I bet you’d have a lot in common.”

  Inwardly, I groaned.

  “And don’t say no, because I’ve already told Bunny that you would love to meet her little Catie,” my mother said firmly.

  Suddenly, an idea popped into my head.

  “Mom, I can’t,” I said. “Or rather, I can – but it wouldn’t be a date.”

  “What? Why not,” my mother asked. She sounded truly puzzled. “This girl is very pretty, Benjamin. And smart! Isn’t that what you want?”

  No, I thought. It’s what you want.

  “I can’t,” I said finally. “I’m ... well, I’m seeing someone else.”

  “Oh! Oh,” my mother said. “Well, I’m very glad to hear that. Who is she?”

  “She’s, uh, new to Wilmington,” I lied.

  “And when do we get to meet this girl?”

  “Soon,” I said, gritting my teeth. “I promise.”

  We hung up and I closed my eyes and sighed, leaning against the aged brick wall of the depot-cum-office space.

  Lying, especially to my parents, wasn’t something I’d done often in the past. If anything, I had more frequently committed the sin of lying by omission. I wasn’t a liar by nature.

  But I had to do something to get my mother off my back while I worked out how to make things right with Jessie. It was just a little white lie, one that I could likely spin out for a while. And after a while, I could even say that I was engaged ... that was sure to buy me a lot more time. My mother would dive headfirst into planning my fake wedding, and I’d be free to focus all of my energy on getting the love of my life back.

  It wasn’t right – I knew that. I wasn’t an idiot. Most of the time, I considered myself a very principled man.

  But even the most disciplined among us need a little cover story sometimes.

  Just having come up with a solution – even though it was far from a perfect one – made me feel a little bit less pressured. I spent the rest of the day looking to the future, instead of the past.

  And after seeing the last property showing for the day, I went back to my condo and poured myself a glass of bourbon. I wasn’t going to keep embarrassing myself like I had that night a week ago, when I’d drank so much that I’d been sick. I was going to have to work on getting my tolerance back up to where it should be, one glass at a time.

  I kicked back on the couch and turned on the TV, but I wasn’t able to focus on anything. I flipped from channel to channel, sighing with frustration and eventually turning the TV off.

  When I sipped the bourbon and closed my eyes, I pictured Jessie. I remembered her soft curly hair, her big brown eyes. The way her curves bounced and jiggled with every step that she took.

  Jesus, I thought. I need to stop this.

  But I couldn’t stop. I was powerless to the visions of Jessie. My cock stiffened in my pants and I groaned. Setting my drink down, I unzipped my pants and reached into my boxers. My dick was rock-hard and I grunted with pleasure as I wrapped my hand around the shaft and began to pump my hand up and down.

  I pictured Jessie in an obscene little bikini, rolling around on a sandy beach and giving me a salacious look over the tops of her sunglasses. Hot, powerful lust shot through my body as I thought about her kneeling on the sand and leaning over, her arms pressing her giant tits together. The delicious pink circles of her areolas, her stiff, pert little nipples poking through the flimsy material of her bikini top.

  God, how I wanted her. I wanted to pull her into my arms and hold her tightly with one arm while my other hand roamed her body and teased her. I wanted her to squirm on my thighs – I wanted to feel her ass jiggle and wriggle and rub all over my cock, teasing me with her perfect butt. As I rubbed my cock harder, I imagined the sweet scent of Jessie’s wet pussy filling my nose. Groaning loudly, I pumped myself faster and thought about how it would feel to slide a hand inside of her panties and find her soft pubic curls soaked with her juices. How she’d moan and gasp as I slid a finger inside of her, how she’d cry out with ecstasy as I rubbed her clit to a perfect orgasm.

  I wanted nothing more than to strip her down and pin her to the bed, push her round limbs into obscenely wanton poses and expose her. Breathe gently on her pink pussy and make her cry out with sheer frustration before diving in, sucking and licking and tasting her. Her little asshole would pucker with every powerful wave of her orgasm and her pussy would clench my fingers tightly, not wanting to let me go.

  When I came, I grunted loudly as cum flew out of my dick and covered my hand.

  I didn’t just want Jessie again.

  I needed her.

  And until I got her, I had a feeling that my life was going to be nothing less than straight up torture.

  9

  Jessie

  “That was amazing,” Emmy declared. She sighed with satisfaction and pushed her nearly-empty plate to the center of the table.

  “Agreed,” Tom said. He belched, then covered his mouth and gave both of us an embarrassed look. “Sorry about that, girls,” he said awkwardly.

  Emmy flushed, but I burst out laughing.

  “Oh, we’re not going to forget about that, are we, Em?” I teased. “That’s going down in the hall of fame.”

  Tom groaned. “Jess, you always gotta break my balls like that,” he said. In another breath, he added: “You gonna finish that?” and gestured to the remaining piece of cheesy garlic bread on my plate
.

  “Hell yes, I am,” I said. I smirked at Tom before reaching for the last piece of my lunch and taking a satisfying bite.

  It was a few days after I’d had dinner at my parents’ house and I was trying to keep things as normal as I possibly could. Olive had come down with a cold – I suspected that it was due to so much playing outside in February, despite the unusually warm weather – and that had taken all of my attention for two days. Now that she was better, she was back at pre-school and I was back at work.

  A new Italian place with a brick oven for pizza and fancy salads had opened downtown, and it had been my suggestion that my coworkers and I try it out. I was still smarting a little from my conversation with Donna, and I figured that anything I could do to be a team player at the moment would be more than welcome.

  “This place is great,” I said as I finished my piece of garlic bread. “We should make this a weekly thing.”

  Emmy groaned. “Oh, god, we can’t,” she said. “I’d get so fat!”

  I laughed. “But it would be worth it, right?”

  Tom covered his hands and burped again, more quietly this time.

  “Yeah,” Emmy said guiltily. “It totally would.”

  Even though I didn’t have a ton of surplus cash at the moment, I snatched the bill from the server when she appeared.

  “My treat,” I told Emmy and Tom. “One of you guys can get it next week.”

  “If I can ever walk again,” Tom groaned. “Those stuffed shells were amazing, but I’m about ready for a nap.”

  “Carbs,” Emmy teased, shaking her head.

  “I think naptime should be a vital part of our adult routines,” I said lightly. “You know – like, they were so good in kindergarten. Why the hell did we have to stop?”

  “Stop,” Tom mock-groaned. “You’re making me want to go sleep in the backseat of my car for the rest of the afternoon.”

  The three of waddled back to the station, rubbing our bellies and affectionately complaining about how full we were. I was glad that I’d suggested going out with Emmy and Tom – I really liked my coworkers, and despite what my mom had said, I wanted to keep working at the station for a long time. There was still a chance of me getting to cover spots, like I’d always wanted.

 

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