Forever (This #5)

by J. B. McGee

  Joe:

  I know. I’m on my way.

  This explains the short choppy texts.

  Sam:

  Quit texting and driving.

  Joe:

  You quit texting me.

  I hop up, toss my phone on the bed, open the door, and walk back out to the living room. Gabby’s wrapping last minute Christmas presents, and I’m pretty sure based on the amount of cookies, pastries, and pies that are spread across the island, she’ll be baking into the early hours of the morning from the coffee she consumed a little bit ago. Bradley’s on the couch, his leg over his knee. He surveys me. “I thought you were calling it a night?”

  “I was, but I texted Joe.”

  Bradley smirks. “Uh huh.”

  “Oh, it’s not the first time I’ve texted him. I’ve called too.”

  “I heard about your call.”

  My eyebrow lifts. “You did?”

  Something clanks against the granite in the kitchen, and Gabby pops around the corner. “I think I’ll take a quick break to hear about this.” She plops on the couch next to Bradley. He spoons her in his arms, kissing her forehead.

  Bradley nods. “Yeah. You know he’s been a lovesick, sexually frustrated puppy, right?”

  I swallow. “How would I know that? He’s been ignoring me.”

  “Gabby didn’t tell you?”

  She glances at me, smiling. “I told you he was pathetic.”

  “Oh well. I’m pissed at him still, but we have to talk, and it needs to be face-to-face.” I fidget with my fingers. “I was going to go to him, but he was already on his way.”

  Gabby’s face straightens. She knows why we have to talk. And she’s probably the reason he’s already on his way.

  “So what are you going to say?” Bradley asks.

  I shake my head. “When he comes, do you think you could give us some privacy?” I rub the fabric of my knit T-shirt between my fingers. “I don’t want to be alone with him in a bedroom.”

  “Fine. You can have the living room. I’d love an excuse to be trapped in our bedroom—hell, anywhere with my wife.” He smiles at Gabby and she rolls her eyes, her grin spreading.

  “Of course you would.” I squint my eyes. This is their house. It’s not like I can ask them to keep it down, but I really don’t want to have a serious conversation with Joe while listening to them make love.

  “Your face is everything right now, Sam.” He winks at Gabby. “We’ll try to keep it down.”

  I tilt my head to the ceiling, letting out the breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding. “Thank you.”

  “And if it gets quiet down here, and you’re not in the living room, we’ll just assume you’re giving us the same courtesy from your room.”

  “Touché.”

  “So, are you going to hang out with us while you wait?” Gabby asks. “If so, I can so put you to good use.”

  “Or you can watch the Nevada versus Southern Miss game with me and chill.” Bradley pats the couch.

  “Tempting, Bradley. So tempting.” I make my way to the kitchen. “I’ll help you wrap, Gabby. C’mon.”

  The doorbell rings, and it zings a current from my head all the way to my core. He’s here. He’s outside that door right now.

  I try to swallow. All the words I was so convinced I could form into a novel leave me. The boiling blood freezes.

  Gabby paints a worried expression on her face. “Want me to get it or do you wanna?”

  I nod.

  “Me get it? Or you get it?”

  I nod again, still trying to swallow.

  “You get it. Go get your man.”

  My head bobs and my feet start to move on their own volition toward the front door. My hand squeezes the cold, brushed nickel handle, twists it, and pulls. Towering over me is Joe. My gorgeous, sexy man who looks like he’s lost his best friend. His hair is disheveled. He’s wearing the same jeans he had on that day when he knew I had just left Ryan for him, a navy T-shirt under a khaki coat. Electric pings zap my core. Everything in me coils.

  “Hi,” I whisper.

  His eyes slowly close. He breathes a sigh and mutters, “God, Sam.”

  The television shuts off. I hear the sound of Bradley and Gabby’s door closing, and I know we’re alone. “Why did you do this to us?” A tear rolls down my face. I want to fight him. Every part of my being wants to just throw my arms at his chest, bang my head into it, and ask him why, why, why. But I’m just so tired. Physically tired, but also tired of fighting. And I hate seeing him like this. I hate the way this feels. I just want to go back, pretend this is the door to Joe’s place, and start all over again.

  His eyes open, and when he sees the tear, he brushes it away with his thumb. He shakes his head.

  I swallow. “Come in. It’s cold out there.”

  He steps through the threshold, and I close and lock the door.

  I point to the couch. He sits. For a moment, I consider occupying the love seat, but my body gravitates toward him and my knees lower me to the cushion next to his.

  His eyes scan me from top to bottom. “You look different. Your hair’s longer.”

  “I’m letting it grow out a bit for winter.”

  Joe smiles and his fingers lightly touch one of the waves. “I like these little soft curls.”

  I lean into his touch and grab his arm. “I can’t spend my life without you in it.”

  “Cut to the chase, why don’t you?”

  “I don’t want you to run away like a scared puppy when things get real, like you did after Ryan’s accident, not without it all on the table. I’ve been trying so hard to live my life without you, but I swear it’s impossible.”

  He nods. “I know. One word. Charleston.”

  “If you were trying to pay me back for me not choosing you then, you succeeded.”

  “I would never try to intentionally hurt you. I honestly thought I was doing the right thing for all of us.” Those words sound familiar. They’re almost exactly what I told him weeks ago about why I chose Ryan that night.

  “How’s that working out for you, Mr. Martyr?”

  He laughs a little. “Not going so well.”

  Music to my ears.

  “What made you change your mind? Why are you all of the sudden talking to me now?”

  “Ryan told me to stop being a fool and go get the girl.”

  That makes me laugh because I can hear him saying that. “How is he?”

  “He’s good. Actually, he’s better than good. It’s a miracle he’s with us, I think.”

  I smile. “You’re right. I heard you were trying to work things out with your parents.”

  He nods. “There’s thirty years of trauma to repair, but we’re working on mending it. I’m sorry for hurting you, but I wasn’t in a good place a few weeks ago, and looking back, I needed time to figure out me.”

  “I knew that, but I wanted to be there for you while you did.”

  “I needed to be alone.”

  The frustration mounts, the hormones rage. “You could have returned a text or a phone call. You didn’t have to completely shut me out…act like a…”

  “Say it. Like a son of a bitch. Like a bastard. I’m both of those things, Sam. You were right on the carriage. I bring secrets, destruction, and danger to those around me.”

  I shake my head. Tears seep from my eyes as I listen to him verbally bash himself. “You don’t to me.” Tell him, Sam. Tell him he brings life and love. That he can be all the things his parents weren’t for him to his own child. That there’s no question it’s his. That you’ll do a paternity test if it makes him feel better. Tell him.

  He leans in and grabs my head and brings my lips to his. His tongue pushes past my lips, and our lungs exchange the air we’ve breathed with each other. Our tongues intertwine like they’re meeting for the first time, tasting and exploring. I groan and wrap my arms around his neck.

  We were told in school pregnant women want more sex. With child or not, it’
s been weeks, and the only thing I want right now is him, in me, showing me how sorry he is with his actions instead of his words.

  I stand us up and walk us to my room.

  One night. One night alone with him before everything is potentially ruined again. No talking, all touches.

  The room is still dark. Joe and I are skin on skin, and our limbs are tangled, his arm draped over my side, my back to his front. The clock is on the other side, and I can’t see it. I whisper, “Is it Christmas yet?”

  He nuzzles my neck. “It is. Do you make it a habit of waking up before the sun rises on Christmas morning?”

  I nod. “I was always anxious to see what Santa brought.”

  “What’s your excuse today?”

  “I’m anxious to play with what Santa brought me early last night.”

  I feel his lips curve into a smile around my ear as he sucks. “Cute.”

  He flips me around and pulls me as close as I can possibly be to him. Heat radiates through my body. This is right. How could either of us ever question it? He kisses my forehead, then my cheek, my chin, my neck, the tops of my breast, my stomach, my thigh. I inhale a sharp breath the closer he gets to my core and thread my hands in his hair. “I’ve missed you. Promise to never leave me again. Mean it this time.”

  “You first.”

  “I never left you in the first place because I wasn’t with you to leave you. But I so promise, Joe.”

  “I promise too.” His tongue trails lightly over my sensitive skin. Every touch is heightened, and I’m not sure if it’s because I’ve yearned to feel his flesh on mine for so long or if it’s the hormones. But my breathing becomes ragged and the euphoria consumes me as he licks and laps at my core.

  “Yes, right there.” My body winds tightly and just before it’s about to spring loose, he stops and trails kisses back up my abdomen. “Don’t stop.”

  His lips splay into a smile over my skin. “I wanna be in you again so bad. I can’t wait.” He reaches for his wallet, and I am pretty sure he’s getting a condom. Every part of me wants to tell him not to bother. The one that broke weeks ago relieved the need for birth control or barriers, but that’d be suspicious, and last night I decided to wait to tell him until we’re alone tonight. We’ll have these memories if he proves he can’t keep promises.

  Joe pulls the condom from his wallet. “Last one.”

  “Better make it count, then.”

  It’s so dark I can barely see his silhouette, but he kind of laughs. I hear the package rip and him sliding it over his length. A single finger strums my neck, down my breast bone, and to my belly button like I’m an instrument and he’s making music with my body.

  He positions himself over me and slowly fills me. “I’d try to remember how good you felt, but my memories didn’t do justice.”

  I hook my arms under his and pull him closer, deeper. “Same.”

  His lips brush with mine. His tongue darts out and dances with mine as our hips twist and turn, trying to get as much of each other as possible.

  The friction and pressure intensifies. The pleasure builds with each thrust, each movement. He pushes in and pulls out. Our bodies perfectly synchronized. Everything in this moment is right. My lips part. I lift my head and suck the lobe of his ear. He groans and his length twitches inside me. His pace speeds up, I match it. We’re climbing the mountain of ecstasy together. When we reach the top, he grabs my hand and we fall together. He rides the waves of my orgasm, and when I’m done, panting and gasping for air, he pumps himself in me until he stills and kisses my lips. “I’m so sorry. I’ll spend the rest of my life showing you.”

  “I love you, Joe. I love everything about you. You’re more than enough for me.”

  His lips curve into a smile over mine. “I love you. I love you. I love you.”

  “Say it one more time.”

  “I love you.” He rolls over and tucks me under his arm. “Merry Christmas, Sam.”

  “Merry Christmas.”

  My eyes close, and I drift off into a pregnancy sex-induced coma.

  “Merry First Christmas Married, Mr. Banks.”

  He snuggles me. “Merry Christmas, Mrs. Banks.” He strokes my arms with his fingers, causing goose bumps to erupt all over my body. “We should probably get up and start on all the festivities. Lots to do before people start to arrive.”

  “Stay. Just a little longer. Let’s enjoy waking up like this for just a minute. No making love, making out, or anything. Just being here in this moment.” What I can’t tell him yet is it will be at least eighteen years before we’re able to sleep in like this on Christmas morning. He’s been all about making memories, but he doesn’t even realize I have my own to make with him.

  He pulls me closer. “Okay. But it’s hard to be naked and in bed with you in the morning without wanting more.”

  I kiss his chest and rub his abs. “Just enjoy this moment. I’ll reward you later.”

  He chuckles. “If my reward is anything like what you did last night, then it’ll be worth the wait. You were a wild woman. I’ve never seen you like that before.”

  Pregnancy sex has proven to be an incredible thing when I can stay awake long enough to enjoy it. The coffee last night had done wonders for me, and I expected it would make me sick, but the warmth kind of soothed my stomach. Weird stuff women are able to tolerate when they are growing a baby.

  A few minutes pass. “So. How long do you want to do this for exactly?”

  “We can get up now, I guess.”

  “I’m just thinking your sister is here, and I don’t want to be a bad host to her.”

  “Aw. That’s sweet.” I kiss his cheek. “I’m kinda curious how things went with her and Joe last night.”

  Bradley squeezes me and grins. “Okay. That’s the real reason why I’m anxious to get up. Screw being a good host.”

  Really, I can’t wait to tell him about the baby. For the past several weeks, I’ve watched him. Any doubts I had about him changing his mind are a thing of the past. Since Ryan’s accident and finding out about Joe being his brother, his desire to start a family has only intensified. And while I’m scared about the unknown, every day I wonder if this sweet baby is a girl or boy. If she’ll look like me or if he’ll look like Bradley. I’m a determined person, and I’ll finish school. Not because Mom wanted me to, but because I want to do it.

  Sam promised she’d stay in her room until I told her she could come out so we could have some time alone for me to tell Bradley. We make our way to the living room. “Can you get me a few ginger snaps?”

  “What’s your sudden infatuation with ginger snaps?” He smirks.

  “‘Tis the season.”

  I fumble behind the garland for the switch to turn the camera on while he’s not looking and when I see the red light, I know we’re good.

  Sam was supposed to put his gift where he usually sits on the couch. My eyes wander to the spot, and it’s there. “Hurry and come snuggle with me on the couch for a minute.”

  He laughs. “And what’s up with your urge to be snuggled this morning? I’m not complaining…” Carrying a cup of coffee and the entire box of ginger snaps, he comes around the corner.

  “I love to snug—”

  “What’s that?” He motions for the wrapped box next to me.

  “I don’t know. I thought maybe you put it here last night after I went to sleep.”

  He shakes his head. “Maybe it’s Sam’s.”

  “Or maybe Santa brought it.” I smile. “It has your name on it.”

  His brows furrow and he puts his mug on the coffee table. “Weird. You didn’t have anything to do with this?”

  “Nope.”

  He undoes the corners first, then the back, careful not to rip any of the paper. That’s my meticulous Bradley. The picture on the box comes into view. It’s a red stocking on the left, a green stocking on the right, and in the middle a striped and polka dotted mini-stocking with a baby bear sticking out of the top. On the top of t
he ribbon that hangs the ornament it says, “…and baby makes three.”

  His eyes widen. “You’re ready to try?”

  I shake my head.

  “I’m confused.”

  “We don’t need to try anymore.”

  If I thought his beautiful blue eyes were wide before, I haven’t seen wide. Those perfectly arched black brows reach to the sky and he flashes the biggest smile of dazzling white teeth before me. “You’re pregnant already? How is that possible?”

  I swallow back the nausea that doesn’t care it’s Christmas or that it’s one of those moments you wish you could relive on all the bad days. “The pill isn’t 100 percent effective is what I’m told.”

  He pulls me into his arms and squeezes me, then our lips lock and he kisses me like his life depends on it. Our tongues dance and swirl. He tugs on my bottom lip. “How long have you known?”

  I smile. “Give me a minute to cut off the camcorder. You wanna tell your baby or babies hi?”

  He waves. “I can’t wait to meet you.” He freezes. “Wait. Did you say babies?”

  I giggle and press the red button to stop the recording. Perfect way to end that. “I did say babies. I’m not sure yet, but…” I sit back beside him. “The day after Ryan’s accident when I went to the bathroom before you told me about Joe, a nurse stopped to give me the news in that very same conference room.”

  “Oh wow.”

  “And she told me the numbers were really high considering when my last period was.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “Sam says the numbers are supposed to double every day, but if you have multiples, the numbers are a lot higher than the doubles. Mine are apparently through the roof. But I kinda refuse to believe there are more than one until I see a doctor.”

  “And have you seen a doctor?”

  I shake my head. “They can’t see me until after the new year. I was glad for that because I wanted you to go with me to that first appointment.”

  “Absolutely. I’m relieved I didn’t miss it. That’s a lot to process, Gabby. I’m so happy, though. And this…” He points to the ornament. “It’s so perfect. The stockings, it being the first ornament you ever bought me, all of it.” Tears well in his eyes. “I just can’t even put into words how much I love you and how thankful I am to get to spend forever with you…” He puts the ornament down, places both his hands on either side of my face, and brings me into a kiss. Our tears bounce off the box in between us. The box that represents the life we made out of our love.