by Kristy Love
“No, it’s my gift. You’re having my niece or nephew.” I smiled, though sadness stabbed at my heart. “I’d be honored to make you a cake to celebrate him or her.”
Roxie’s eyes teared up as she launched herself at me to wrap me in a hug. “Thank you. You have no idea how much it means to me.”
“Of course.” I hugged her back, wishing I could stop all the negative feelings. Though the happiness was starting to outweigh the sorrow. Hopefully over time, I’d be elated about the baby. “How far along are you?”
“Almost twelve weeks.” She beamed.
“So close to being out of the first trimester.”
“I can’t wait for the morning sickness to go away.”
“It’ll get better and then you’ll feel amazing for awhile. Then you’ll feel like your body is stretched to the max.”
“I can’t wait. I want to experience it all. The vomiting, the swollen ankles, the kicks and stretching.” She rubbed her belly. “It’s a gift, you know?” She looked at me as though she was telling me she knew it was a gift that so many took for granted. She wanted me to know she’d give anything to experience the beauty and pain of pregnancy all over again, so she would do her best to enjoy it all.
Roman put his arm around the back of my chair, pulling me closer to him as the conversation flowed around the pregnancy and their plans. The ache subsided as we talked and I took in the excitement from my brother and his girlfriend. It became easier to smile and enjoy their company.
Maybe things would be okay after all.
* * *
Roman and I had been at the hospital for an hour, visiting with families and kids. We talked and laughed, and a few times I cried with families. It was therapeutic and depressing all at the same time. I could tell Roman was getting tired, as was I. It wasn’t physically exhausting; it was more emotionally taxing. It was hard to see such small children so ill. It was hard seeing all the grieving parents. It made the grief and hopelessness I felt grow with each room I visited. At the same time, it reassured me that I wasn’t alone, that no matter how bad things were, there was always a chance that things could get better.
We knocked on the door of a room I’d visited last time. I hoped a different family answered this time, but my hopes were dashed when Tammy peered out the door.
“Mia, so good to see you,” she said with a smile that barely touched her lips. Her eyes had dark circles under them and her skin was pale. Her eyes were dull as though the life had been sucked out of her. “Come in.” Roman put his hand on the small of my back and guided me inside when he sensed my trepidation. Duncan, the little boy who had been so sick last time, was still swallowed by the bed, but he looked even worse. His eyes were closed and his breathing was slow and shallow. “I’m sorry things aren’t better,” Tammy said. “Duncan isn’t doing well.” Her eyes filled with tears and her chin wobbled. “He’s . . . he’s on his way out.”
“Oh, Tammy.” I engulfed her in a hug. She cried softly into my shoulder. “You could have called me. You don’t have to go through this alone.”
“You’re dealing with so much on your own. I didn’t want to burden you.”
“Never. We have to stick together, right?” In so many ways, we had a link connecting us. We were both going through hell with our children. We didn’t know each other well, but I felt I’d found a kindred spirit.
After a few minutes, Tammy calmed down, then motioned for us to sit. I handed her the last of the cookies. She needed them. “This reminds me,” she said, opening a package and taking a big bite out of a cookie. “This may be morbid,” she glanced at Duncan, “but I’d like you to make cookies for the reception after the funeral.”
“Tammy, don’t talk that way.” My heart split in two as she talked. How could she give up hope on her baby boy?
“It’s a matter of time. Duncan lost consciousness. He’s . . . he’s literally dying right now.” A sob escaped her.
I shook my head, my own tears threatening to fall. “Anything you need from me, please let me know. Cookies, a hug, friendship, or just to talk. Please.”
“I’ve been making arrangements. I want . . .” her voice cracked and she cleared her throat. “I want this to be a celebration of his life. I want to have his favorite things here and he loved your cookies so much. He talked about them for days. It makes me feel closer to him . . . being surrounded by things he loved and cherished. It’s an awful request, I know, but it would mean so much to me.”
I grabbed Tammy’s hands, holding them tightly. “Of course. I’ll help in any way you need me.”
“Thank you.”
We spent some time with Tammy, mostly keeping her company. After a while, she seemed tired so we left. Outside the hospital room, Roman pulled me into his arms, holding my head against his chest. His heart raced and he swallowed a few times.
“You handled that amazingly well,” he said.
“That was unbelievably hard.”
“You were strong. You brought her small comfort when there isn’t much for her.”
“I hope so.”
“You did.” He kissed the top of my head. “Let’s go home.”
Home, he’d said. I didn’t care if it was mine or his. I just wanted to be with him. I wanted his arms around me, his warmth surrounding me. We slept in his bed, as he held me so close there was no space between us.
At three in the morning, I got a text that Duncan had passed. I cried into Roman’s arms for over an hour.
CHAPTER 19
Roman
I KEPT MY ARM PRESSED tightly around Mia’s shoulders the majority of the time we were at Duncan’s funeral. She was incredibly poised the entire time. She greeted everyone, offered her condolences, and helped Tammy without being asked. She acted as if all of this weren’t hard on her, as if she weren’t living out her worst fear. She had made several dozen cookies and even a cake. She’d been furiously baking, trying to keep her demons at bay with sugar and flour. By the time we left, her body sagged against mine. I took her home and tucked her into bed, holding her as we watched a movie. She was quiet, clearly absorbing everything that had transpired.
“That casket . . . it was so little. Too small to be committed to the ground forever,” she said, her voice so quiet I almost missed what she said.
“Losing someone that young is always a tragedy.”
“Do you think he’s okay? That he’s not in pain anymore?”
“Absolutely.” I squeezed her tighter. “He’s pain free and happy, though I’m sure he wishes he could be with his mom.” We didn’t talk about or mention the fact that Duncan’s dad hadn’t been anywhere around. It seemed Tammy and Duncan had been abandoned by him the way Mia and Gia had been abandoned by Mia’s ex.
“Do you think he’s in Heaven?”
I had hoped she wouldn’t’t ask me this because I wasn’t sure how I felt about it. More than anything, I wanted there to be a paradise where our loved ones went. I wanted them to be at peace and happy and pain free. I just wasn’t sure such a place existed. If Mia needed to believe in such a place, I’d tell her I did. The thought of simply . . . not existing was too awful to contemplate. Thinking about those I’d loved and who were gone not living on spiritually was painful. “I’m sure he is. If there is ever a candidate for an express ticket to the pearly gates, I’m sure being so young is a guaranteed entrance.”
“I hope so.” She turned to face me, bringing our lips together, kissing me fiercely. Her body melded to mine as though she wished we could be one person. She hooked a leg across mine and ground her hips against me. Her hands moved furiously, tugging my shirt up so she could drag her nails down my chest. I groaned into her mouth and rolled her to her back. She wrapped her legs around my waist, keeping her hips moving against me.
“If you don’t stop, you’re going to kill me,” I said against her lips.
“Shut up and kiss me.” She yanked my shirt and I helped her take it off before sliding hers off. I took her bra off and looked down
at her, completely in love with the way she looked. Her eyes were full of desire, her cheeks flushed, her hair already messy. Her breasts heaved from arousal. I could see the faintest flickering of her heart beat in her neck. I leaned down and kissed her pulse and she moaned, wrapping her arms around me.
My lips hadn’t had enough of her skin, so I kept going. I kissed down her neck until I found one perfect nipple, took it into my mouth, and moved my tongue over it. She cried out, arched her back and pushed her breast closer to me. She moaned my name and I wanted to explode. Was it possible I’d never felt this amazing?
I couldn’t think about that. I couldn’t let the idea of this being a betrayal stop me from enjoying the writhing beauty in front of me.
I ran my fingertips lightly over her abdomen, over the jagged scar that cut across it. She had a few other tiny scars, but a prominent one low on her belly.
“Stop,” she said, pushing my hands away and turning her head away from me.
I gently pulled her hands away and pressed a kiss right along the scar. “You’re beautiful.”
“It’s ugly. What it represents . . .” her voice trailed off. Her words were thick with emotion.
“Look at me.” She didn’t move her head, so I turned her face toward me. She looked up at me, moisture filling her eyes. “You’re gorgeous. This scar is part of your story. It’s part of you. Every part of you is gorgeous.” She squeezed her eyes closed, and a single tear slid down her cheek. “I can’t pretend to understand, but I understand it bothers you.”
Her eyes opened up, meeting mine. “Thank you,” she whispered. Her body relaxed and she took my hands, resting them against her abdomen, flush against her scars. “Make me feel better. Make me forget.”
I turned my attention to her, determined to show her how beautiful I found her. How fucking irresistible she was, and how she was everything. I teased her with my lips and tongue. I traced them over her breasts and nipples, over her abdomen, down to the top of her panties, where I teased her, making her think I was going lower before I stopped.
Her hands were buried in my hair and she moaned and muttered incoherent things. She was completely at my mercy. I slid her pants down her legs, and kissed my way down until her pants were off. Then I kissed my way back up until I made it to her inner thigh. The skin was so sensitive she jerked as I licked and sucked. I could smell how aroused she was and that kicked what I was feeling into overdrive.
I ran my finger over her through her panties. She looked down at me, her eyes dilated with want. She bit her lip, clearly waiting for what I would do next. I slipped my finger inside, teasing her as her hips bucked into me. I slowly felt her, watching her body to see what she liked.
I loved touching her. I loved feeling her. Fuck, I just plain loved everything about her. Knowing I could play her body like an orchestra made me feel I was the most important man in the word. I could make her body crescendo and diminuendo. I could delay her grand finale or even give her a standing ovation. She ate it all up, loving the way I made her feel.
I pulled her panties to the side, tracing my tongue over her. She cried out, saying my name repeatedly. I grinned against her. My tongue became the conductor. She was both the musical instruments and the captive audience. Her hips moved in time with my lips and her hands tugged at my hair. When she finally went over the edge, she made a beautiful noise.
I climbed up her body, pleased with myself. Who knew that making someone else feel good would bring me such satisfaction? I could touch her or kiss her all day long and never get bored. I loved discovering new ways to make her tremble and cry out. The possibilities seemed endless.
Instead of letting me wrap my arms around her, she rolled me to my back, pulling my boxers down. She ran her hand up and down me, making me groan. She straddled my hips, holding me so she could slide down on me, but stopping before she actually did. “Is this okay?” she asked. I nodded and she lowered herself. I hissed out a breath, loving the feel of her warmth and tightness around me. She wasted no time and immediately started moving. She lost herself in the rhythm and my body, her head slightly back as though she was praying. I grabbed her hips and watched as she moved. Hell, watching her was almost as erotic as what she was doing to me.
In that moment, I knew I could watch her forever. I could worship her body, her mind, her spirit. I could spend decades trying to unlock all her secrets and never tire of it. Even if I knew every single thing about her, I’d still want to know more. I’d still crave her.
In so many ways, she’d become my addiction.
She brought us both to the edge and carried us over before collapsing on my chest. I traced lazy circles against her back as she lay against me.
“Thank you for not making that weird,” she said softly.
“Weird?”
“I didn’t want to have the whole condom and disease talk.” She rested her chin against her hand. “I trust you. I hope you trust me.”
“I trust you with my life,” I said, cradling her cheek in my hand. And I meant it, every word, every syllable. There had only ever been one person who I trusted more than Mia. And Mia was quickly taking the number one spot.
We stayed curled up in bed until I had to go to work, though pulling myself away from her was damn near impossible. I left her in her bed as she gazed at me as though I was the only man she’d ever cared about.
That both exhilarated me and scared the fuck out of me.
* * *
Time passed between the increments spent with Mia and those at work. Our lives became interwoven more and more until I wasn’t sure where hers began and mine ended. Each night I wasn’t working was spent with her, in her bed or mine. Neither of us seemed to have a preference as long as we were together.
Slowly, she was becoming my other half. I stopped trying to fight it. Instead, I embraced it with open arms. Somehow, I’d found someone else to fill the empty holes. We fit together in ways I never expected.
If I believed in miracles, she’d be mine.
In the past, time had seemed torturously slow. Days crept like months. Now, with Mia, time passed too quickly. I wanted to soak in every moment. I wanted it to seep into my bones and imprint on my soul.
Maybe if I was lucky she would.
Today, I was helping Mia with some kind of cream-filled pastry. The last time we went to deliver cookies, she’d decided to give people information on how to contact her if they wanted more. Now she had a website with an order form to an email address, but I had a feeling it would expand into something even more. Everything she touched seemed to flourish. Everything she baked was more delicious than the last, so I had no doubt people would take notice and want more.
“Put the mixer on a slow speed and add the sugar. Slowly,” she instructed, never taking her eyes off the batter she was whisking. I followed her directions, though I was sure I’d mess it up because I couldn’t stop looking at her. The way she concentrated entranced me. A small crease formed between her eyebrows and the tip of her tongue poked out. “Good.” Again, she never looked at me, but somehow she knew I was following her instructions.
This order was for a graduation party. She’d been so excited when the form was delivered to her email inbox. She’d squealed as she jumped up and down, flinging herself into my arms. We’d ended up on her couch, nakedly celebrating.
She worried that it took time away from Gia at the hospital, but I reassured her that if she got her baking business off the ground, maybe she’d be able to quit working at David’s. It’d be work to own her own business, but I could tell it was something she really wanted to do. She was so passionate about it. I wanted to help her reach her dreams in any way I could.
“I’ll take it from here.” She bumped me out of the way with her hip and combined things. It didn’t take long before she was putting everything on cookie sheets and popping them in the oven. I sat on a stool at her kitchen island and watched her in her element. When the first batch was in the oven, she came and sat next to me. “You
don’t think this is a mistake, do you?”
I rested my hand on her thigh, my thumb caressing her soft skin. “Absolutely not. You’re talented, Mia. Everyone loves your desserts. Making some items for parties or events or even for friends isn’t an issue.”
“What if people don’t like them?” She worried her lips with her teeth and focused on the oven as though it would leap up and try to eat her.
“That’s what taste testing is for.” I kissed the side of her head and she leaned into me. She always sought out contact with me, whether it was a touch or a kiss.
“What if we like it and they don’t?”
“Then they’re idiots.”
She laughed, the sound light. “Leave it to you.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“Leave it to you to have such a way with words.” She turned toward me, resting her arms on my shoulders and burying her hands in my hair. She kissed me so softly that I craved more contact. I wanted her to brand me with her lips.
“You like my words,” I teased.
“I like you,” she responded, losing herself in the kiss until the timer on the oven went off. Then she was a flurry of activity as she set pastries on cooling racks, put new cookie sheets in the oven, and frosted cooled ones. I sat there, watching her, knowing that if I attempted to help her, she’d shoo me away. I enjoyed the view as her hips swayed back and forth and she hummed to herself. There was something so simple about being with her that I enjoyed more than I thought possible.
It really was the simple things.
CHAPTER 20
Mia
ROMAN AND I HAD BEEN seeing each other for four months. I’d known him for almost eight. I could barely remember what my life was like without him. We spent almost all of our time together. He even came with me to the hospital most days. Sometimes, he told Gia stories or read from her favorite books. Emotion bubbled up in me every time I saw him interact with her. I had no doubt he’d be an insanely compassionate father. He’d dote on his children and give them the things they needed from a father.