“What? Where in the hell did you find a tattoo artist on the island?”
“Brando did it.”
“Brando?” He stepped back. “He . . . you let him . . . touch you?”
“Give me a break, Blake. It’s a tattoo.” I dismissed his surge of outrage. I knew he would react that way.
“I just can’t stand that guy. I don’t know what you see in him.” It was difficult to hear. Brando was a good guy, and I knew there was nothing I could say to convince Blake otherwise. Any effort I put into it would be a waste.
“I’m going to bed, Blake.”
“Wait, Tay. I’m sorry.”
“No, I’m going to go . . .” He grabbed my arm tightly at first but then loosened his grip.
“I miss you.” He wrapped an arm around me and pulled me close. “Being without you is driving me crazy.” He buried his face into the side of my neck.
“You had the chance at Christmas.”
“I know, but Grandmother died and my mom was a mess. I didn’t want to add to things. We talked about this.”
I rolled my eyes. Even though I understood his reasoning, it still hurt.
“Yeah, so you chose her feelings over mine.”
“No, it’s not like—”
“No, no. I get it.” I pushed away. “Why can’t you see that we can overcome anything as long as we have each other? When we’re divided like we are now, everything is doomed. We can be happy together or miserable apart.”
“Tayia, I don’t want to fight. I love you.”
“I don’t believe you.” I tried to step away but he pulled me to him.
“Don’t ever say that. I love you with every breath I take. You’re all I want and everything I need.” Then his lips crashed over mine.
Tears were running down my cheeks as I lost myself in the kiss. I wanted so badly to forget all the hurt and accept his words.
He lifted me onto the table and parted my legs then unzipped the back of my dress. The top had been secure enough that I didn’t need to wear a bra. With no further barriers to remove, my breast spilled out. He fastened his mouth over one of my tight nipples and sucked. It had been so long since I’d allowed him to touch me. I longed for it so much that I didn’t want this moment to end. I ran my fingers through his hair and inhaled his scent: fresh air, Irish Spring soap, and a faint hint of motor oil.
After paying special attention to each nipple, he trailed kisses up the side of my neck and to my earlobe. “I love you so much,” he said into my ear as his fingers slid my panties down my thighs. His mouth was on mine as he lined the head of his cock at my opening. I was already so wet and dripping with want that he was able to ease in with one smooth motion.
“God, Tayia. I wish you knew how good you felt. Never felt anything like it.”
I moaned as he pulled me to the edge of the table and rocked his hips back and forth. There were so many things I wanted to say. I wanted to tell him how much I loved him and how miserable I’d been without him. Instead, I let my body do the talking; it somehow felt safer that way. I was sure he knew how I felt; I didn’t need to say the words. I was also sure he knew why it was difficult for me to ever speak them again.
I ran my hand under his T-shirt and felt the muscles of his back as he thrust into me, allowing myself to enjoy the present and the way my body was on fire with his every touch. My breath quickened at the intense pleasure that was building every time his hardness stroked that spot—the one he knew so well. He pulled my legs higher around his waist as I tilted my hips in time with his movements. My moans grew louder as my breaths turned to tiny gasps.
“Blake, Blake. I’m gonna . . .”
“Yes, yes, baby. Come. Let me feel it. Show me what I do to you.”
“Ahh, oh God.” I threw my head back and cried out as my inner walls contracted and waves of pleasure consumed me. The feeling seemed to last forever as I pulled him tightly against me and my greedy pussy clamped down on him with raw need.
“Oh, fuck. Baby, I’m coming.” Then he roared as he spilled himself deep inside me, releasing every ounce of pent up desire we’d been withholding from each other for weeks. Our hearts beat rapidly in our chests as our tongues entwined. Neither of us wanted the moment to end. However, what we’d just done didn’t change anything. We were still divided, and until we came to an agreement, we could never be truly happy together.
Later that night, after I had showered and gotten into my bed—alone—I realized that was the first time he’d ever come inside of me.
Chapter Twenty
“Tayia Jones.” The nurse called my name as Brando and I sat in the waiting room of the OB/GYN office we’d found in Key City. I needed to confirm that I was pregnant and figure out what to do from there.
I closed the Parenting magazine I’d been mindlessly flipping through and tossed it on the table beside me but didn’t move.
“Tayia Jones?” the nurse called again as Brando nudged me. I didn't know who else to call.
“They’re calling you,” he whispered. “Here. She’s right here,” he called aloud and pointed to me. The nurse’s eyes settled on us and she gave me a warm smile.
“Right this way.” She gestured for me to enter through the door she was holding open. My legs felt wobbly as I forced myself to stand. I swayed on unsteady feet and Brando grabbed my hand.
“You okay, T?” His eyes were full of concern. I shook my head. He grabbed my hand more firmly and pulled me to where the nurse was waiting. “It’s all going to be fine,” he said in my ear. I desperately wanted to believe him.
Once the nurse had taken my weight, blood pressure, and had me provide a urine sample, she escorted us to a tiny room and instructed me to undress from the waist down and cover my lower half with a paper gown. Brando was visibly uncomfortable, so he stepped into the hallway. A short time later, I was sitting on the exam table, eyeing the stirrups warily and clutching the paper tightly around my waist. There was a light knock followed by Brando entering the room on the heels of a female doctor with a short salt and pepper pixie cut.
“Hello, Tayia. I’m Dr. Sonya Hillson.” She beamed while reaching out to shake my hand. Her palms felt incredibly soft and she smelled faintly of fabric softener. She stood no more than five foot and looked to be in her fifties judging by the crinkles at the corners of her brown eyes as she smiled.
Dr. Hillson sat at the portable computer desk against the wall and tapped a few keys while she spoke. “You came in suspecting you were pregnant and your results confirm your suspicions.” She winked. “Congratulations.” Brando and I exchanged glances, neither of us surprised by the outcome. I had already taken several tests, but it was helpful to have it officially confirmed.
Dr. Hillson’s gaze shifted knowingly to Brando, who was shuffling nervously in the corner behind her. “It’s okay if you want to have a seat, Dad.” Brando’s eyes grew to the size of saucers and he gulped a few times but didn’t correct her. Instead, he simply nodded and plunked down into the chair.
“Now,” she continued, “if you’ll lie back, we’ll see if we can get a couple of pictures of your peanut.”
Dr. Hillson prepared the sonogram machine. I lowered the paper so that she could have access to my stomach, but she explained that she wouldn’t be able to see the baby and that she would need to insert a piece of equipment inside my vagina to get a better picture. Mortified, I placed both feet in the stirrups and slid to the end of the table just as she instructed. Brando kept his eyes to the ceiling the entire time until the paper gown was back in place. The doctor reached over and lowered the lights just as splotches began to appear on the black screen. I couldn’t make out anything. Just grayish white lines, blobs that would appear then disappear. Dr. Hillson concentrated on the screen as she wiggled the wand around for several moments, and her face relaxed when she found what she was looking for.
“Ah.” She clicked something on the machine several times and tiny plus signs appeared in the screen as she zoomed in on an image. “There’s your
peanut, and that little blinking spot right there is the heart. A very strong heartbeat.”
All I could do was focus on the blob that actually did look a little like a peanut and the little pulsing movement of the heart. My cheeks grew warm, and my own heart began to beat in sync.
My baby.
Blake’s baby.
Our baby.
I felt a hand on the side of my cheek and realized that Brando was wiping away my tears.
“Congratulations, T. It’s a peanut.”
I snorted and giggled as he handed me a tissue. Dr. Hillson continued clicking and gathering data as I stared in awe at the screen, unable to believe that a tiny, wonderful little person was growing inside of me. I would never be the same, and I knew I was never going to let him or her go.
Brando and I left the doctor’s office with several sonogram print outs, prenatal vitamins, and an appointment to return in three weeks. She determined I was about nine weeks along and due in October. Everything felt so surreal. I didn’t know it was possible to be completely overwhelmed with joy and totally heartbroken at the same time. Blake should have been there. He should know, except I had no idea how to tell him or what it would mean for us. I wanted our parents to know about us, but this wasn’t exactly the way I intended for them to find out. Selfishly, I wanted Blake to choose to be with me because he loved me, not out of obligation or because he was doing the “right thing.” I had so much to think about and only seven months to figure it out.
On the ride home, I held the blurry black and white picture in my hand and stared at the image, especially at the little dot that represented the baby’s heart. I knew I would do everything in my power to protect this gift. I had never wanted something so badly in my life. For as long as I could remember, Blake had been my everything, and now, our baby was about to become my whole world.
Until I figured out how to tell Blake, I thought it was best that I stayed away from the house for a few days. I always worked better having a plan. This wasn’t the type of news I wanted to blurt out and not have other options to fall back on in case Blake’s reaction wasn’t positive. I had to face the possibility of taking care of a child all on my own. It seemed everything in my life was entirely dependent on Blake. We worked and lived together.
I couldn’t go home yet, so I asked Brando to take me to get a few things. On the way, I called Aunt Bridget, who lived in Summerville, a small town outside of Charleston. It had been a while since I’d seen my dad’s sister, so she was delighted to have me for a visit. When we pulled into the driveway, Blake was in the garage. With my heart beating a million miles a minute, I ran up to my room and closed the door behind me. I pulled the sonogram picture out of my purse and stuck it in the back of my top dresser drawer. I certainly didn’t need anyone finding it. After gathering enough clothes and things to hold me over for a few days, I hurried downstairs.
“Tay?” Blake called just as I was opening the door.
“Yeah?” I answered, sounding breathless.
“Where are you going?” He stepped forward, wiping the black grease from his hands with an old towel. “More importantly, why are you running out of here? Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine.”
I’m just a little knocked up and terrified to tell you, but other than that, I’m good.
Blake eyed me skeptically for a moment but didn’t speak. The confusion and the desire to ask a hundred questions were written all over his face. I knew I was being a selfish shit, but I’d made my bed. Now I needed to figure out a way to get back in it again, hopefully with him beside me.
“Blake, I talked to Aunt Bridget today and she asked me to come for a visit, so I’m . . . uh . . . going to go. Tonight.”
“Wait, what? You’re going to Summerville tonight?”
“Yeah.”
“Your car needs new tires. At least let me get some new ones put on then you can go in the morning.”
Crap. I hadn’t thought about how I was actually going to get there. My mind was a mess. Even the simplest thought processes were hard for me. I saw Brando still sitting in the driveway and I breathed a sigh of relief.
“No, that’s okay. I have a ride.” I hurried outside as Blake followed, but not before I noted the way his face changed from confusion to fury as he noticed who was waiting for me. I nearly ran all the way to Brando’s car, not sparing a look back. With my chest heaving, I pulled open the door and settled onto the passenger’s seat.
“Drive,” I commanded, and Brando immediately shifted the car in gear.
“He didn’t take it well, I’m assuming,” he commented as he stared straight ahead, taking us away from the house.
“I didn’t tell him,” I choked out as I rested my head against the cool glass of the window.
Ten minutes later, we were sitting at the Sea Whisper Island dock waiting for the ferry. Brando was standing with me as I paced along the wooden deck. When I saw Blake was charging our way, I knew something was terribly wrong. Brando grabbed my hand and pulled me behind him as Blake approached.
“Blake?” I called out to him, unnerved by his demeanor. “What’s the matt—” My words were cut short by the sound of Blake’s fist smashing into Brando’s face.
“Blake!” I screamed as he repeated the motion and landed another punch. “Stop it!”
Brando was clearly stunned by the unexpected blow to the face but quickly gathered his bearings and pushed Blake back a few feet.
“What the fuck!” Brando growled and advanced forward until the two were entangled, throwing fists at each other. I had no clue what was happening as I screamed over and over for them to stop. Both men tumbled in my direction, and I backed away to avoid impact. Before I realized I’d run out of deck to stand on, I was falling into the dark water.
I came up gasping for air and screaming at the same time. My gasps quickly turned into choking coughs as I swallowed mouthfuls of ice-cold water. The long skirt of my dress was gathered tightly around my legs, restricting my movements. For the briefest moment, I thought I would drown before a pair of strong arms wrapped around me and I looked up to see Blake pulling me to the dock. Brando was leaning over the side with his hands outstretched as he grabbed my arms and hauled me up.
I was lying on my back, coughing and shivering, as both men gathered around me.
“Tay?” Blake was kneeling beside me. “Jesus. Are you okay?”
I nodded and inhaled deeply as the coughs subsided. My throat and nose burned a little, but I was fine. A bit shaken, but fine.
“You sure, T?” Brando’s face mirrored Blake’s concern.
I sat up and gave him a small smile. “I’m fine, B.” My voice came out raspy.
Blake’s face immediately transformed from concern to anger as his eyes moved between Brando and me.
“Blake? What’s the matter?” I asked as my confusion about the reason he was here returned. Blake stood, reached into his pocket, and tossed something down. The item floated downward then skittered along the deck beside me. When I looked, my heart instantly stopped. It was the sonogram picture, all crumpled and soggy.
I lifted my head and met Blake’s eyes. They were filled with so much hurt and anger that I began to sob immediately.
He knew.
“Blake, I—”
“Save it,” he interrupted. “You and B over there have a happy fuckin’ life together with your baby.”
Wait? He thought the baby was Brando’s? I stood up, not sure what I was going to say but knowing I needed to do something.
“Blake!” I called after him. “Blake! Come back!” But he didn’t stop. Not long after, the roar of the Chevy’s engine filled my ears as he peeled away from the dock.
Brando grabbed a blanket from the trunk of his car and wrapped it around me as I stood motionless and internally numb. After we rode the ferry over to Key City, I followed him to King’s Cabin Cruiser that was tethered to their private dock.
“Let’s get you out of these clothes,”
I heard Brando say through the fog in my brain.
I took a quick shower in the tiny bathroom on the boat, just long enough to wash away the saltwater. I put on one of Jonna’s tank tops and a pair of shorts then curled up on the large mattress that took up most of the space. A few minutes later, Brando came down and settled beside me.
“Well, I reckon we have ourselves a giant fuckin’ mess.” He smirked then winced while putting a hand to his bruised jaw. I didn’t think there was any humor in this situation, yet I found myself laughing uncontrollably, anyway.
“Story of my life. One big hot mess.”
My laughs quickly turned into sobs, and Brando held me as I let the tears fall while I gasped and hiccupped through the ugliest cry of my life.
What the hell was I supposed to do now?
Chapter Twenty-One
“Tayia, wake up.” Brando’s voice traveled through my sleepy brain. Slowly, I opened my eyes and was aware of the boat swaying and Brando sitting on the edge of the bed. His hand rested on my thigh as he shook me awake. “Tayia.”
“What is it?”
“I’ve got to go. I just got a text about a race tonight.” The expression on his face was grim as he stared down at his phone.
“Wait, what? A race?” I sat up quickly and rubbed my swollen eyes. The last thing I remembered was feeling warm, salty tears run down my cheeks while Brando rubbed my back. “Who sent the text? Who is racing?”
Brando gave me an indecisive look, as if he wanted to reveal the name but wasn’t sure if he should.
“Brando? Who’s racing?”
“Blake.”
I swung my legs over the side of the bed and hopped off. I knew Blake was upset. No, furious . . . and hurt. The last thing he needed was to be out racing.
I made my way up the staircase to the top deck of the boat. Relief was instant when I saw we were anchored to the dock on the island. Brando must have sailed us back while I was sleeping.
“Brando, I need to get to The Spot. I need to stop him.”
“Tayia, it’s not as easy as you think. He has to do this.”
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