Turn It Up

by Inez Kelley

  A jittery quiver exploded in her belly and sent waves of nausea rippling through her. She knew down deep why he’d made his decision, why he’d turned away from a dream being handed to him. He did it for her. She wasn’t worth that sacrifice.

  “We could’ve just used condoms.”

  “Oh, for Christ’s sake.” Raking his hand through his hair, he glared at her. “You’ve been using the dual protection argument so long, it’s ingrained in my head. It’s the best choice for our future and your health.”

  “Royce said you’d never make part—”

  “And fuck Royce and his BMW,” Bastian spat. “You can’t let him dictate our lives. He’ll screw anything in a skirt if it stands still long enough. Please tell me you aren’t comparing me to that son of a bitch.”

  “So what about Doug and Karen?”

  He jerked his chin back. “What about them?”

  “They’re separated.”

  “I didn’t know that but it doesn’t surprise me.”

  “What?” She gaped.

  “Didn’t you listen to them? They had nothing in common but a hot sex life. We don’t have that but we’re best friends. We’ve spent years together because we like each other and enjoy each other outside the bedroom. We know we’re right together. That’s all that matters to me.”

  There were a few things he’d overlooked.

  “I took the job out west. You signed a two-year contract here.”

  He snorted. “The hell with the UC. I’ll buy my fucking contract out if I have to.”

  Charlie blinked. “Where are you going to get that kind of money? We’re not talking pocket change here, wise-ass. No bank is going to loan you a couple hundred grand to leave a job unless you have another one lined up. You don’t.”

  The stiff line of his shoulders shifted as he stomped to the window. The drapes were pulled but he didn’t seem to notice. He inhaled and exhaled ten times. She counted each noisy breath. A frown drew his brows low above his eyes.

  “I don’t know. I’ll figure something out. I can practice medicine anywhere. I’ll find a job but I’m going to Arizona with you.”

  “I never asked you to.”

  He laughed but there was nothing funny in it. “I have no choice. I can’t live without you. Hell, I’ll just sell the house. Even after paying Boo half, that should cover the broken contract penalty.”

  “You can’t do that!” Her stomach plummeted to her knees then surged to her throat. “That’s your forever place.”

  “You’re wrong.” Bastian shook his head. He rubbed his thumb between his eyes then looked at her, sincerity bleeding the stiffness from his body. “It’s just a house. I don’t need it. I need you. I love you. My forever place is with you, wherever you are.”

  He fishbowled in her vision. Everything around him faded away, and only Bastian filled her gaze. “You’d sell your house for me?”

  “I’d sell my soul if that’s what it took.”

  How could he sell something so important? There were permanent notches charting his height from age two to sixteen in his dining room. A delineation in the backyard marked where a wooden play structure had stood for countless years. The bay window stuck in the summer because he’d “fixed” it when he was seventeen and bent the latch.

  He’d come home to the same walls, the same rooms, the same familiar rattle of pipes nearly all his life. But the blue Victorian that had been his home from the time he was an infant wasn’t his forever place. He hadn’t even hesitated about giving it up. His forever place was…with her.

  Blood rushed away from her head, leaving her dizzy. Then it soared to her face and sweat broke along her brow line. She’d memorized twelve addresses by the time she was nine and could recall at least fourteen different bedrooms. There were more things she’d forgotten than she could ever remember about home. She’d never had a forever place.

  Bastian was the one thing she couldn’t picture her life without.

  I’d sell my soul…

  That wasn’t what he’d done. He’d sold his future. He’d had the surgery. Her watery eyes dropped to his crotch. Bastian never wore sweats outside the house unless he was boxing. He considered them sloppy, more lounge-around-the-house wear than anything to be seen in public in. But she supposed having your testicles operated on made jeans a bit confining. Fashion had to take a backseat to recovery.

  Damn him, if he hadn’t had had a vasectomy then she might have had time to change her mind about kids, thought about it as a concrete possibility not a what-if situation. Now there was no chance for her to give him a flesh-and-blood piece of forever. He hadn’t talked to her first. He’d done something so permanent, something that went against the very basic fiber of who he was, just for her. How could he not grow to hate her in a few years?

  “I wish you’d waited.”

  “Waited for what? For you to move to Arizona and forget about me?”

  As if she could ever forget him. She pinched her eyes tight. “No, asshole, the vasectomy. You should have waited. You should have…Why, Bastian? Why would you throw your chance of having children away?”

  “You don’t want kids.”

  “You never gave me a chance. I want…wanted you. If that meant kids as well, then I’d have thought about it. You took the opportunity away from me.”

  Bastian blinked. “You’re right. I did. And you have no idea how sorry I am for that. But I didn’t have the surgery this morning.”

  “What?” Her eyes darted down again then jerked back up. “You’re wearing sweatpants.”

  Confusion rounded his brows. “So? I went a couple rounds with the bag, then drank too much scotch and sat around feeling like a piece of shit all day.”

  “You need to have the surgery! To repair the tear or whatever.”

  “I’ll have it. I just postponed it until next week.” He shrugged. “I don’t know what I’ll do about the vasectomy, okay? Your leaving just about killed me. I wasn’t in any frame of mind to make that kind of decision.” Licking his bottom lip, he walked to her and carefully reached out, taking her hand as if she might suddenly slug him. “I need to talk to my best friend before I do anything…if she’ll still talk to me.”

  All the fight drained out of her and fear rushed in. She’d been pissed when he took the choice from her but it suddenly seemed too big a decision for her to make. Responsibility weighed on her. How could she steal his hope?

  A tiny kernel of faith took root. He could have walked away, found any other woman to carry his child. But he hadn’t. He wanted her. He had to believe in her, right? If not, any uterus would do.

  “I have no idea what to do with a baby. I’d be a terrible mom.”

  Bastian inhaled, slowly, cautiously. “So you say.”

  “What do you think?”

  He looked away. “I think you don’t give yourself enough credit. Kids don’t come with a manual, but people figure it out every day. You could. You’ve never backed down when life gets hard. You just get stronger and face it. Any child would be lucky to have a mom like you.”

  Charlie drew a shaky breath. Behind him on the wall, Eddy had a collage of picture frames. Her gaze darted to each photograph. The backgrounds were different, the houses, the streets, the towns, sometimes even the states. But in each one, Charlie was smiling.

  That toothless baby grin. One where she wore a stupid floppy hat with a bathing suit, ice cream all over her face. Her elementary school science fair. The awkward year her knees grew faster than her legs. Her first car. Graduation. Her college diploma. Picking out pumpkins with Bastian last fall.

  Bubbling from somewhere beneath her ribs, a sense of completeness filled her as nothing ever had before. It swelled until her eyes overflowed. It was so simple. How had she not seen it before?

  Forever wasn’t a place. It was who you were with. Who loved you. Eddy might not have been June Cleaver but she’d been there, always, a touchstone no matter where they lived. Now it was Bastian. He was her foundation, her supp
ort, her security, her future.

  It wasn’t a house.

  Bastian was her forever place. The future was whatever they made it, together.

  A tiny cackle spilled from her lips, shaking her shoulders and scratching her throat.

  Bastian frowned. “What are you laughing at?”

  Her hysteria grew until it racked her whole body. Her bones rattled inside her skin, and her hair bounced against her forehead. She whipped around and shot into the kitchen. Heavy footsteps told her Bastian followed but she couldn’t stop. Caz and Eddy sat at the kitchen table, both with blank faces that pretended they hadn’t overheard the argument. Charlie didn’t care. She caught her mother in a hug, squeezing with all her strength.

  “What’s all this?” Eddy stroked her back.

  “Love you, Mom,” Charlie whispered and pressed a brief kiss to her cheek.

  Eddy was still blinking at her in bewilderment when Charlie headed for the back door.

  “Where are you going?” Bastian stopped at the threshold, confusion knotting his forehead.

  She threw back her head and laughed into the setting sun. “I’m having an epiphany, damn it. Come on!”

  Her feet smacked up the stairs to her apartment and his thundered behind her. With her chest heaving and her cheeks aching with a grin, she bounced into her kitchen and stood waiting as he topped the last step.

  “Charlie, what in the hell are—” His attention riveted on the disc of birth control pills in her hand. Hope surged onto his face before he tamped it down, replaced it with a cool professional mask. Still, he couldn’t hide the sudden twitch in his cheek as he pulled his eyes up to hers. “What are you doing?”

  “If I said I’d marry you but no kids, would you have the vasectomy?”

  His spine stiffened. Something darkened in his expression when he looked at her. The small smile on his face didn’t reach his eyes. “In a heartbeat. You’re more important than anything to me. And I gave up the real idea of a child a long time ago.”

  “You’re a terrible liar.”

  “I’m not lying. Sure, I wish things were different but they’re not.”

  The disc hit the trash can with a clank. The very last hidden hope Bastian probably didn’t even realize he held faded from his eyes. He nodded. “That’s the best decision you could have made.”

  “No, this one was.”

  She crossed two steps and kissed him. He returned her kiss but it tasted hollow, scotch and sorrow, just actions responding to her. Looping her arms around his neck, she nuzzled under his chin. “Don’t have the vasectomy.”

  Every muscle in his body snapped taut. “What are you saying?”

  “I’m saying yes.” The whisper barely broke the air.

  He pulled back and cocked his head. “Excuse me?”

  “Yes.”

  Confusion furrowed his brow then his lips parted in surprise. “You’re saying yes? To my proposal? To marrying me?”

  “Uh-huh.” She giggled, hysteria smoothing to calm assurance.

  “But what about…if you threw the pills away and I don’t…I don’t understand.”

  “I have no idea what’s going to happen. You and me, we’ll figure it out together.”

  “Why are you changing your mind?”

  The fear in his question squeezed her heart. He was afraid to believe her. She smoothed her hand across his chest. His heartbeat raced under her palm.

  “Selling your house, moving across country, a vasectomy…You never hesitated in any of those. If you love me that much, then can I offer you any less? I didn’t want a baby without a husband, and I didn’t think I’d ever trust anyone enough to get married. I trust you. There’s no man I’d want to have a baby with…except you.”

  His lips moved but no sound came. She watched the uncertainty dart across his eyes, watched him seeing all the pieces falling into place. His breath grew sharp and stuttered, his throat worked with convulsive swallows, and a fine tremble racked his entire frame.

  “Oh my God.” Bastian’s eyes went wide before he grabbed her and hugged her close. “You mean it?”

  “I mean it. I love you, Bastian.” Wrapping her arms around his shoulders, Charlie laughed even while tears streamed down her cheeks.

  Bastian tugged her closer to him. “Say it again. I need to hear it again,” he begged against her mouth.

  “I love you. I want to get married. No pills, no vasectomy, just us, forever.”

  “Oh, Charlie.” He breathed her name like a prayer. “I love you so damn much.”

  Love exploded in her blood like a powder keg the instant he claimed her mouth. A few short, hard kisses opened the pathway to deeper, richer, more intimate strokes of tongue on tongue, lips on lips. Scotch flavored his kiss with a woodsy allure that intoxicated her. Her hand dove into his hair, pulling him closer, wanting more of the burn.

  His entire frame shook with emotion. Stumbling forward, Bastian pinned her against the wall. His welcomed weight pressed against her, fitting along her body like a hand in a glove. Her skin flushed in awareness. A simmering ache settled low. The thick corn silk of his hair trickled through her fingers as his mouth slid down her jaw to her ear, murmuring sweet words of joy and love.

  “I need you.”

  “Yes.” Catching his lower lip in her teeth, she nipped him. “Hurry.”

  He lifted and she clung, locking her legs around his hips. She deepened the kiss, twirling her tongue with his. Warmth spread as he moaned into her kiss. Awkwardly shifting and pulling, they managed to get her shirt over her head. The cotton of his T-shirt was soft but she wanted skin. She fisted the material up his back.

  Bastian growled and palmed her ass. He carried her into the bedroom, lowering her to the unmade bed and crawling on top of her. His shirt hit the lamp and her bra flew somewhere behind him. The long line of his back sizzled under her hands, his chest scorching her taut nipples. Air was rationed against the taste, the need, for his mouth on hers.

  She rocked her hips, cradling him, calling to him. In answer, his hips thrust. The ridge in his pants firmed and she went wet. Wicked nibbles sent crackles along her skin and she arched. One warm hand cupped her breast, his fingers worrying the tip until it ached for his mouth.

  A soft sound broke from her lips. It was going to be so good.

  Bastian froze.

  “Shit.” He pulled his head back, hot breath misting over her face. “We need to stop.”

  “Why?”

  “I can’t,” he groaned, burying his forehead in the curve if her neck. “Not until after the surgery.”

  Her mouth dropped open. “Are you serious? This isn’t some holdout to win the bet?”

  “I don’t give a shit about the bet.” His chest rose and fell with his gulping breath. Tension knotted his jaw. His fist banged on headboard. “Damn it, this isn’t fair.”

  “When’d you reschedule it?”

  “Next Thursday. Then there’s a recovery period and…Screw it. I’ll be all right.” He dove into her mouth, stealing her breath, rocking his erection against her.

  “Oh no!” She dug her fingers into his hair and yanked him back. “Not if it might hurt you. We’ll wait.”

  “I don’t want to wait. I want make love to you.”

  A smile burst through her frustration. “God, I love hearing that, but no. No sex until the doctor says so.” He opened his mouth but she clamped her hand over it. “Not you, the other doctor. We’ll wait until it’s safe.”

  His shoulders went slack. “Figures. I’m ready to get naked and now you’re saying no. You just like to torture me.”

  “Yep.” She rose and gave him a sweet peck. “Set a wedding date, medicine man. I want to hit the Arizona airwaves a married woman.”

  A wicked glimmer took root in his eye. “Oh, you’re going to love this idea.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  The night was sticky hot and the air-conditioning backstage only half worked. Bastian ran a finger under his collar—his white clerical colla
r. WTXT’s Summer Kickoff was nearing a close and he was backstage dressed like a priest. Charlie was floating around somewhere dressed in a micro-mini black naughty nun’s habit. Well, he mused, at least under the long cassock, he had pants on.

  Charlie slipped her arms around his waist from behind. “Ready for this, Father O’Chastity?”

  “You betcha, Sister Milk-n-Honey. Where’s Boo?”

  “Chill out, Sebastian.”

  Bastian turned and threw his head back with a laugh.

  “What?” Caz feigned annoyance and straightened Bastian’s white coat over his pale green scrubs. He straightened the stethoscope around his neck then patted his Dr. Feelgood name tag. “I make a better-looking doctor than you do.”

  “I can’t believe you cut your hair.”

  With Caz’s tattoos covered by the coat and his hair cut short, the similarities between them were almost shocking. His brother ran a hand over the now-short blond shag and shrugged. “It fit the costume. I wanted a change anyway. Besides, it’ll grow. I kinda like this look. I might offer free breast exams after the party and see what pops up.”

  “As if you could handle a real woman.” Eddy sidled up and looped her arm through his. Her short, tight nurse’s costume showed way more cleavage than Bastian preferred to see from his almost-mother-in-law so he looked out to the stage. The morning crew was taking their final bow. He grabbed Charlie’s hand.

  “Come on, Honey, showtime.”

  The bright lights nearly blinded him but he slipped into his final performance as Dr. Hot/Father O’Chastity with ease and smiled at the audience. In the shadows beyond the stage area, he spotted Devin, in football pads, with cheerleader Melanie at his side. The teen waved back with a wide smile. He caught another set of eyes a few tables away and winked when a sparkly fairy wand waved back.

  Charlie cocked her hip in a so-not-religious way and earned several catcalls. Bastian had to wait until the crowd calmed down before speaking into the microphone.

  “Excuse me, Sister. Aren’t you supposed to be helping me over here behind this podium?”

  Charlie batted her lashes at him and licked her painted lips. “Now, Father, I offered to help you behind your cassock and you called me a Jezebel.”