Love Me Now (Encounters #4)

by Fifi Flowers

  “Cookies?”

  “Yes silly, they’re cookies… Mommy let me come bake gingerbread cookies for you. She makes the very best ever, it’s an old family recipe and I’m trying to memory it like Mommy.”

  “You will memorize it, I’m sure of it.”

  “You liked them?”

  “I loved them! They are the best! We should have them here and the big tree your mother gave me.”

  “Mommy always takes stuff out of our house to put in other people’s houses.”

  “She does?”

  “Yes, some of the things come back, but a lot disappears. The kettle is whistling at you!” She announced with another one of her giggles. And then she watched me intently as I scooped ground beans into the press, filled it with boiling water and pushed down the metal filter. As I poured the dark, rich roast and sipped from a cup, she finally spoke up. “You won’t disappear, will you?”

  “No… Never.”

  “Good, now I can write a new letter to Santa.” Her worried look was replaced with a delightful smile.

  “Santa?”

  “Yes, every year I asked him to find my daddy. I thought Santa would find him sooner since his real name is the same, you know, St Nicholas…” she continued on telling me what she knew about the North Pole and reindeer. She was so adorable, so animated and then she turned somewhat serious. “Can I call you Daddy?”

  My chest instantly tightened and my heart beat faster as I answered, “Of course.”

  It appeared that she was happy with my response as she squealed, jumped off the stool across from me, hugged my legs, and ran out of the room leaving me with tears in my eyes, a lump in my throat, and a warm feeling all over.

  Waiting for my precious girls to join me for breakfast, I washed off dishes in a farm sink, and then strolled out of the kitchen for a look around. The family room proved to be the only space fully furnished on the first floor that also included a living room, a dining room, a library, another bedroom and a bathroom, the kitchen and a laundry room. After hearing that she had dispersed many of her furnishings, I wondered what was coming back. I could totally envision my sectional sofa in the living room and the Christmas tree definitely belonged next to the real fireplace—not in my apartment. The stunning additions to my place all looked out of place when I thought about it even though they were exactly my style, but they were perfect for this house. I saw myself in this house too. Hopefully Victoria felt the same way, and just as I was thinking that the hair on the back of my neck began to tingle before a voice broke my thoughts.

  “What are you mumbling about?”

  And there was the smell that Nicolette was talking about earlier; sweet flowers and cinnamon pastry—Victoria, my Sugar! Gazing at her, I suddenly had a feeling that she’d been nearby longer than I had sensed her, watching and listening. Had she heard my conversation with our daughter? Had I overstepped my new position in their lives, admitting to Nicolette that I was her daddy?

  Chapter Eight

  Victoria…

  Wow! Nick really looked at home moving around the kitchen with Nicolette. They seemed so natural together and when she asked him if she could call him Daddy, I nearly burst out in sobs. I had to bite my lip to stifle my own cries as I heard him agree and saw him wiping his eyes as she skipped off. I was thankful that I was tucked away enough that Nicolette wasn’t able to rat me out. I needed a few more moments to gawk at him, he’s so handsome—even more so than when I first met him. He’d definitely aged very well and I loved the sexy scruff on his face. It was difficult not to give into my body’s cravings being in the same bed as him. And according to his appendage, I believe that his desires were very much the same as mine. Had he not gotten up early, I may have welcomed him into my bed fully—giving him a good morning greeting like our last time in bed together.

  Snuggled up together in Nick’s private cabin, the early morning hours were moving along too quickly for both of us. I could never get enough of smelling his scent on my skin, and feeling his hard muscular body up against my softness.

  “I never want to leave this bed,” he said kissing the top of my head, tucked contently under his chin.

  I never wanted to forget his sexy morning voice or his warmth, wrapped up in his arms. I could’ve stayed there forever. Why did it have to be the last day? If only we had been on vacation alone, just the two of us, no friends.

  “We promised to ski with our friends today. Besides, I’ve kept you from the top. I’m sure you’ll love being off the bunny-slopes—hitting the big boy slopes with your pals.”

  I really didn’t want to remind him of that. I wanted to be selfish and keep him all to myself. They could have him after we left the mountain.

  “I love hanging out with you everywhere, Sugar. Let’s stay here.”

  Shaking my head, I reiterated what our plans were for the day which included a separation for part of the day. Growling at me, he agreed that we had pledged to put our friends first, but he also added on the slopes only. Breakfast time was to be ours and ours alone. I couldn’t refuse or sway him (nor did I want to), as he nudged my legs apart and expertly maneuvered his firm body over mine.

  Capturing my mouth with his, he ensured no protests would escape from me and I melted into the mattress as he kissed me silly. He had me panting wildly as he slowly entered me—filling me up completely, he felt so good! We were a perfect fit together, connected. Every part of my body seemed to be lined up just right to his and with each movement—the thrusting of his pelvis—he hit every nerve-ending, sending me quickly into a rhapsody of moans. He had me quaking and tingling all over as he hit all of the right spots ever so gently, not in a rush to finish, the pleasure went on and on. It felt like nothing I’d ever experienced before in my life, incredible. There was pure emotion and passion in every caress, every kiss. I had the overwhelming urge to throw out three little words, “I love you,” suddenly as he stared down at me as we shuddered and orgasmed as one.

  Maybe that was the moment that we created our little Sugarbug.

  “Nicolette is so smart—she reads, and sounds out words so well,” are the first words out of his mouth, followed by, “coffee?”

  His voice steered me away from thoughts that had my whole body on high alert as I watched him move around the kitchen, opening drawers and cupboards. Nick seemed to already know where everything was, I noticed, as he pulled out a spoon, a cup and creamer before pouring steaming hot coffee into one of my favorite white porcelain, oversized cups with gold and silver polka-dots on it.

  “Thank you.” I brought the cup up to my nose. I love the smell of coffee first thing in the morning, it seems to be saying “hello!”

  “I have pancakes warming in the oven. Thought I’d fry up the bacon I found in the fridge. Might be a good time before Cupcake comes back.”

  “Cupcake… she does smell like one.” I laughed softly, loving the way his voice sounded using a pet-name for Nicolette.

  “Funny! When I called her that she explained to me that she was not, in fact, a cupcake. Then she defined what a cupcake was as if she were reading the definition right out of a dictionary or cookbook. She might make a good lawyer someday.”

  He laughed as he continued working on something, I couldn’t see what was on the counter in front of him. I did see the cutting board and a bowl… maybe he had cut up some fruit, I swear I could smell bananas and oranges in the air. So many yummy smells in the kitchen—his scent the best.

  “She has been interested in reading since she was about four and a half when I put her in pre-school. Always fascinated with stories. Bacon sounds good.” My thoughts were all over the place with him near. “And to be honest she knows that book and the recipes almost by heart.”

  “Don’t tell me, the book holds family secrets!”

  “Well, yes, actually it does… it’s my book.” I bit my thumb wondering if he remembered that my family was big on cooking traditions and that I said one day I would put them together.

 
“You published a book?” His voice sounded more impressed by my words than surprised by them.

  “Self-published, yes.”

  Moving away from the pan on the stove and the bacon that he was unwrapping, he stepped to the island and removed the book from its stand.

  “It’s illustrated with photos and has a full cover that’s beautiful.”

  “I snapped photos in our last house. Hence, the white counters—they were perfect for photographing. These counters are not as good…”

  “…This kitchen is great! You selected some awesome items; stainless steel appliances, counters, tile, knobs, and lighting. I love it all!”

  “Thanks. I’ve had a lot of experience over the years. I’ve seen how things fit together; what I think works and what does not work. Not to mention the big mistakes I have seen others make. Design jobs always entail what the client wants, good and bad. Some listen and some do not—fortunately, most of mine have been receptive. For those who have not, I sometimes end up with items they decide don’t fit in with their vision. It’s a good thing that I have a warehouse to store things in.”

  “Nicolette told me you give away things out of the house… that things often come and go… even your own Christmas decorations?” It’s definitely a question based on the tone of his voice and the look on his face which causes me to feel a bit uneasy.

  “Yes. She’s right, but I haven’t finished furnishing this house. Only the chair and ottoman in the living room were purchased, I like them by the front window or maybe in the library. A good set-up for reading.”

  “I think that your Christmas tree would be amazing by the front window. I want to move our Christmas tree back here, where it belongs. It was there, wasn’t it?”

  At first, I simply nodded as a knot had formed in my throat.

  “I’ll have it moved after you entertain your parents for the holidays… we have a tree in our family room that will be fine.”

  “We are going to spend the holidays together with them.” His tone dictated that his decision was firm.

  His statement both shocked and annoyed me… and made me feel loved, wanted. But what was I feeling about his whole “I’m taking over, moving in speech,” rather than asking to move in? He is everything I’ve ever wanted and yet it had been so long. Did we just pick up where we left off? What if things didn’t work out… we were different people. And then I asked myself, why am I even thinking these thoughts? Everyone takes a chance in relationships and I definitely wanted one with him.

  “We are not spending any more time apart.”

  He was in front of me. I hadn’t even noticed that he had moved toward me until my face was in his strong hands.

  “I’m not wasting a minute without you and Nicolette. Besides my parents are going to want to see their grandchild… wow… their first grandchild! I just realized that we gave them their first grandchild, not my sister. Nicolette has cousins!”

  I hadn’t even really thought about our new family being more than Nick, Nicolette and me. I had met his parents the night before and they did seem rather fond of my little Sugarbug immediately. But there would be more, of course, as I knew he had a sister. I did not know that she had a family of her own. We hadn’t gotten around to speaking about our family members. I had not told him what had happened to mine since we were last together. His apparently had grown while mine had diminished.

  “She’ll love hearing that,” I said, thinking of her playing with her friends at school. And not to mention, her asking for a baby brother or sister.

  “Everything is coming here,” he said moving back to the stove and sizzling bacon sounds resumed as he continued to speak. “Just tell me what furniture you want and don’t. You can use it for your business or we can donate it to a charity. Besides, it’s only right that I move into this house… the house you stole from me.” He laughed, shaking his head. “Stolen by the two people I love the most.”

  Furniture, I loved so many pieces in his apartment—they just lacked warmth. Maybe because there were no pillows, no throws, and the lack of personality on the walls that made them appear so stark and in need. In my… our house, I could see them fitting in quite well. Thinking about each piece, knowing that he wanted to purchase this house, I had to wonder if he had purchased them with moving in mind. Everything did look crisp, shiny and new and I had asked Louise if he had just moved in when I first entered the place. I couldn’t for the life of me remember what she had answered and then again, maybe she did not—she was rattling off so many things that my head was swimming. I’d have to ask Nick… or did he already mention that he had started to shop for the house he lost out on?

  “Nicolette stole it.” I reminded him.

  “Yes, that’s true. She told me the story about winning over the previous owners while telling me about living at the North Pole with reindeer. She’s quite a character, her stories rolled from one to the other without a break.”

  “Please tell me that you did not tell her that she can have a reindeer! She’s been asking me for weeks after seeing a Christmas movie about a little girl caring for a hurt reindeer.”

  “Prancer. That movie is a real killer, gets to me every time.”

  And then all at once the sadness looming in the air, thinking of good-cry-movies, was gone within an instant as Nicolette ran into the room waving a piece of paper in her sweet little hand. We both turned to look at her and I will admit that I snuck a peek at Nick while he glanced at her. Uncanny their resemblance when I could look from one to the other—I knew that she definitely had his features—but wow!

  “Can we mail it today? Can we? Can we?” She danced around the kitchen.

  “Mail what, Sugarbug?” She finally stopped to show me.

  “My new letter to Santa. What I want. I don’t have to ask for my daddy anymore, he’s here and you’re right, Mommy, he is heavenly—he makes pancakes… and bacon!”

  How did you argue with that logic? I couldn’t think of a rebuttal, nor did I have an opportunity while Nicolette read off her list very animated—explaining what each thing was in great detail. I loved watching their interaction, it warmed my heart. Nick seemed to be taking to his new found fatherhood quite naturally. You’d never know that he had just been dubbed as her Daddy. Even more amazing, they made the same faces. How was that even possible? And no, I was not imagining it because they looked so much alike. They actually moved their hands in the same gesturing manor as they spoke and scrunched their noses the same way when mentioning certain words. Some strong genetic traits perhaps? I was bewildered and delighted all at the same time as I viewed their father-daughter bonding over vanilla pancakes, crispy bacon, and cut-up bite-sized fruit, hence the orange and banana smell.

  Maybe Nick moving in with us was a good thing. Why not jump right in, both feet at the same time, and really give it a go and be a family!

  Chapter Nine

  Nick…

  I probably shouldn’t have told Victoria what I was going to do involving her home. And I probably should’ve asked her what she wanted regarding me moving in with them. But there was no way that I could walk away from her. I had been praying for her every day since we were separated and with the additional bonus of a beautiful child that we had created together. There was no way in hell that we would ever be apart. I would do whatever it took to make a home and the best life possible for both of them.

  I nearly lost it seeing Cupcake running in and wrapping her arms around Victoria and then hearing her call Nicolette Sugarbug—what my mother called me as a kid. (Hell, she still did on occasion, usually if I was down or under the weather.) There was not one instant that I thought she wasn’t mine. Cupcake looked just like my childhood pictures that my parents have proudly on display to this day. She had the same dark blonde colored hair as me—of course hers was much longer in length than mine—and her bright blue eyes, those were undeniably the same shade as mine. The emotions that struck me as I looked between them, I can’t even describe; shock, sorrow, joy. My
chest hurt and I had a hard time keeping my tears at bay. I admit to swiping under my eyes a few times. Best night of my life at that moment, hearing Cupcake chatter on and Sugar saying my name.

  “Nick… Nick, your phone keeps ringing.”

  Back to the present moment, I reached out for my phone that Victoria was extending out to me. My assistant’s name was on display, she was probably thinking I fell off the face of the earth. “Excuse me,” I said, kissing Sugar’s cheek. “The office. Tell Cupcake that I will walk her to the mailbox as soon as I finish with my call.”

  “She’ll like that.”

  Smiling at each other for a few moments, we then turned, and walked off in opposite directions.

  “Good morning, Louise. I’m not coming in today, but I have a long list of things that need to be accomplished and some that we need to get the ball rolling on.”

  “Louise? Sounds serious. I was wondering where the hell you’ve been. Being late is so not like you. I knew something was up. Workaholic-man not behind his desk at the crack of dawn?” I could just imagine her digging the end on her pen into her right cheek.

  “Yes, your workaholic boss is going to work from… home today.”

  “Was there a meteor shower of pods last night? You’re not Nick! What have you done with him? Are you sick? Need chicken noodle soup?” Her mouth moved a mile a minute and those were the only words I caught throughout her ramble.

  “Not sick. I feel great!”

  “Did you take your temperature?” She was not giving up.

  “No fever…”

  “I could maybe get Betty to make you a pot of chicken noodle soup.” Betty. She sure got her name wrong. I was sure I would hear a scream when I revealed who Betty really is to her, so I decided to ease into that.

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t call you earlier. I need to talk to you about a few things. I really need movers today if possible…”