Blue Sky

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Blue Sky Page 11

by Alana Albertson


  And that way—I could stay with Paloma.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Spaghetti

  Our weekend in San Diego had been glorious. I was more determined than ever to move there.

  But now, I was wondering how I would live without Beck and Sky.

  I didn’t even know what I wanted anymore. What if he asked me to move to Pensacola with him? It wasn’t out of the realm of possibilities since he still needed a nanny. But even if he asked, I wasn’t sure I’d say yes.

  I was crazy about him. Did I love him? I thought I did but I wasn’t sure yet. Even so, I didn’t want to be a nanny forever.

  Since we returned from San Diego, we had been busy with school and flying. And luckily I hadn’t heard from my mother or my uncle.

  I had just cooked a huge batch of spaghetti and meatballs, using fresh tomatoes for the sauce and both pork and beef for the meat mixture.

  Beck couldn’t stop raving about it and even had seconds.

  But Mónica hadn’t touched her food. She was pushing it around her plate with her fork.

  I knew something was wrong.

  I sat down next to her. “Are you okay?”

  “Yup. Fine.”

  But she wasn’t fine. I could tell.

  By now, Beck was sitting down on the sofa, looking at his phone. I noticed that Mónica was staring at him and biting her lip. What was she up to?

  After a few more minutes, she finally got up from the table and sat down next to Beck, a worried look on her face.

  “Beck, can I ask you a question?”

  Ay, Dios mío! No! Suddenly I knew exactly what she was going to do. Something I had done six years ago when I had been her age.

  My heart hurt.

  She was going to ask him to the daddy/daughter dance.

  Don’t do it!

  “Sure. Anything.”

  Dammit. I couldn’t watch. This was a fucking train wreck.

  Beck was a great man, but he was under no obligation to take my sisters to the daddy/daughter dance. I didn’t want him to feel pressured.

  “Uh, well next week there is this dance, the father/daughter dance. I know you’re not my father. But, I was wondering if you would take me and Ana María to it. If not, no worries. I understand.”

  My eyes watered up, and I craned my neck like one of the goddamn people who stops to watch an accident.

  Please, Beck. Please say yes.

  The room went silent. I tried to read Beck’s face but I couldn’t.

  He took Mónica’s hand. “I’d be honored.”

  Yes! I wanted to run over there and jump on him.

  Mónica’s face brightened. “Really? You wouldn’t mind?”

  “Not at all. There’s one catch though.”

  Oh great. What? Was he flying that day? I knew he couldn’t switch his schedule. I understood that but would the girls?

  “Oh, what?”

  He grabbed his keys. “We need to get you both dresses.”

  God, could I love this man anymore?

  Mónica jumped up and squealed. She ran into the other room and grabbed Ana María.

  I ran over to Beck, sat on his lap, and kissed him, for once not shy at all if my sisters saw us. “I can’t believe you did that. You don’t know what this means to me. What it means to them.” I paused. I had been unable to know my feelings about him until now. But they were finally clear. “I love you.”

  Beck cupped my head in his hands and kissed me. “Te amo.”

  He loved me, too? In Spanish no less? I couldn’t believe this was my life right now. I was in love with a totally hot, accomplished, educated, classy pilot who was a wonderful father and loved my sisters. And he had just said he loved me too. This was really happening for me.

  Ana María ran out. “You;re going to take us shopping? Can I get a pink dress?”

  “Yup, let’s go.”

  I wanted the girls to bond to Beck without me hanging around. “I’ll stay back here with Sky if you don't mind.”

  The second they left, I burst into tears. I was so happy for my sisters. I had remembered seeing those fliers in school, ripping them up, shame burning my cheeks. Sometimes the mean girls would taunt me. “Paloma isn’t going to go to the dance because she doesn’t even know who her father is.” I would never engage with the girls but secretly I was devastated. Even worse, they were right.

  I didn’t even know my father’s name.

  Abuela had talked about him only once. She said that Mama had snuck out of the house repeatedly and then became pregnant. Mama had never uttered his name and my birth certificate said unknown where my father's name should’ve been. My only connection to him were my green eyes.

  The not knowing his identity was the worst part. Maybe he wanted me. Maybe he had looked for me. Or maybe he didn't even know I existed. When I had been Ana María's age, I had dreamt that he would find me and whisk me away from my mother. But after the weeks turned into years, I had given up any hope of ever knowing the identity of my sperm donor.

  A few hours later, the girls returned. Mónica had chosen a long purple dress and Ana María picked a sparkly pink princess dress and matching shoes.

  I helped the girls get ready for bed and returned to find Beck sitting on the sofa. I felt breathless and my body throbbed for him.

  I no longer wanted to wait. I wanted him to make love to me.

  I wrapped my arms around him and we kissed passionately. Desire radiated between us.

  And I didn’t need to say another word. Beck threw me over his back and carried me to his bed.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Cherries and Pineapples

  I carried her into the bedroom and threw her on the bed. Her face broke into a nervous laugh. We’d been messing around since I’d first kissed her in my truck, but I had been hesitant to fuck her until she knew that I loved her. That I didn’t just want to fuck her. That I wanted to be with her. Right now. Forever.

  And she had said she loved me too. Now, I had a new goal. I wanted no distractions from my mission, to make her come.

  I attacked her greedy little mouth, and she passionately kissed me back. With fire in her eyes, she met me kiss for kiss. I had never in my life experienced this kind of electric, clothes ripping passion. My previous sex life had been warm and loving, not raw and unhibited.

  Tonight, I was going to fuck Paloma.

  She removed my shirt and her hands ripped on my belt buckle. I was still busy kissing her mouth, her neck, her chest. I unbuttoned her dress and unhooked her bra. Her tits were fucking gorgeous. Plump and oval shaped. I buried my head in between her chest before my mouth suckled on her nipples. They were like two perfect cherries, tart and sweet and red. I could stay here forever. I planned to.

  Paloma had succeeded in removing my belt and my pants dropped to the floor. I stood beside the bed, not sure what Paloma was about to do but not wanting to pressure her into anything. She was young and though she had told me she wasn’t a virgin, I wasn't sure how sexually experienced she was.

  “Can I suck your cock?”

  Whoa. Okay, that answered that question. Hearing her say cock rattled me. The excitement of Paloma’s dirty mouth made my cock even harder than it already was, which I didn’t even think was possible.

  “Absolutely. And Paloma, you never have to ask that question. The answer will always be yes. Suck me, baby.”

  Her eyes lit up and she crawled over the bed spread until she was laying on her belly. Her hands reached around and grabbed my ass and then she wrapped her mouth around my cock.

  I exhaled. Man, this was incredible. Catherine had never really enjoyed giving me head, and I hadn’t wanted to push her. But Paloma seemed to enjoy it. I placed my hand on the back of her neck and guided her rhythm. She hummed and flicked her tongue around it, giving me the most intense pleasure. Then she placed her hand at the base of my cock and used her fist to rub up and down while she kept her mouth on the head. Jesus. I was about to come, but I didn’t want
to just yet. Not like this.

  I wanted to taste her.

  “Babe,” I urged her off. “Lay down.”

  She bit her bottom lip. I climbed up on the bed spread and removed her panties. Her pussy was so fucking beautiful. Nicely trimmed in a triangle, dark and delicious. I kissed up on her thighs. I grasped her with both of my arms and placed my head in between her legs.

  I gave one slow lick down her center and she gasped.

  The sight of her spread in front of me, her hair cascading over her nipples was almost too much to bear.

  I devoured her pussy and she tasted like the sweetest treat—like a sweet juicy pineapple. Two beautiful little lips. I licked her lips and rubbed my thumb over her clit. Her breath sputtered, and she began to moan. I increased my pace, loving every second of this. I could eat her forever, I was drunk on her scent. I could tell she was close, so close so I reached up my other hand and rubbed her nipple causing her body to thrash.

  She finally came all over my face and I lapped up her nectar.

  Now she was ready for me.

  I reached over to grab a condom out my dresser and I slowly rolled it over my length. I pressed my body slowly over hers, gripped my cock in my hand, and slowly entered her.

  She gasped as I pressed further. She was so fucking tight. I was dying to get inside her. She gripped my ass. “Fuck me, Beck.”

  Yes, ma’am.

  I thrust deep and paused for a moment to stare into her eyes. I needed her to know that I loved her. That I never wanted to fuck another woman but her.

  I grabbed her hips, shifted her forward, and cupped her breasts. Her pussy was clamping around my cock, catching and releasing it and I was already in ecstasy. She began to moan, and I rubbed her clit with my thumb, desperate for her to come again.

  My cock throbbed, and I fucked her harder, deeper, faster. Her moans were coming more rapidly so I suckled again on her incredible tits.

  “I’m going to come again.”

  That was my girl. I cradled her in my arms and kept the friction constant, so we could move together as one. I took her hand in mine, covered her mouth with my lips, and kissed her through her orgasm. I could feel her explode under me and I finally let go into incredible bliss.

  Our bodies were entangled in the sweat drenched sheets.

  I looked over at this beautiful woman and realized that I couldn’t live without her.

  I cupped her face and asked her a question. “Babe, will you move with me to Florida?”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chamango

  “Are you serious?”

  Excitement twisted with fear in my chest. He was not asking me to marry him, which of course I didn’t expect. He had just told me he loved me, and I wasn’t trying to rush things any more than they were already rushed. Even so, I needed to know where I stood.

  “Dead serious. I love you, Loma.”

  “I love you, too. But I want to go to San Diego. I don’t know if I can move across the country. I mean, I have to support the girls.”

  “Don’t worry about money. I can take care of you and your sisters. Just come with me. I need you. Sky needs you.”

  I needed them, too. “But what if this doesn’t work out? Then what?”

  He pulled me into his arms. “It’s going to work out, baby. Trust me.”

  I had never trusted anyone in my life but my abuela. If it didn’t work out, I would be stranded in Florida, with no job, and no money. I’d be completely dependent on him. No, I couldn’t do that. No matter how much I loved him.

  I pulled away from him. “I’m not sure. I need to make my own money. I don’t feel comfortable with you supporting us.”

  His face contorted. “Well, I could still pay you as Sky’s nanny.”

  Though I was positive he meant that offer as a way to give me independence, it didn’t sit right with me.

  We were sleeping with each other now. I didn’t want him to pay me.

  I didn’t accept money for sex.

  I wasn’t my mother.

  I needed to think about this.

  “I’m not sure. I don’t know what I want.”

  He kissed me. “We don’t need to decide our future right now. Let’s just be happy. We love each other. I want to make you happy. I respect you. I’m not going to abandon you. Let’s just take this one day at a time.”

  I kissed him back but inside my heart wrenched.

  I did love him. And I believed him. But I couldn’t take this one day at a time. I had fought so hard to leave this town. I couldn’t become dependent on a man. I needed to find my own way.

  “We have a few more weeks to decide. Let’s check in and see where we are at.”

  His face grimaced. Clearly not satisfied with my answer. I didn’t think that Beck was used to hearing the word no.

  Well, I may be poor, but I wasn’t pathetic. I would stand up for myself and my sisters. I just couldn’t put all my trust in a man.

  I fell asleep in Beck’s arms and he woke me early with kisses and we made love again. This time it was sweeter and more loving. I loved how he could fuck me at night and then make love to me the next day.

  For once, I didn’t even try to sneak out of his room early. I would no longer keep where I slept a secret from the girls. I felt guilty being so blatant like mama had been, but even so, I still woke up before they did.

  I made breakfast and Beck took the girls to school. After I fed Sky, I sat on the floor and started to read to her. She was more and more active by the day and I was pretty sure she would start walking by next month. She was such a fat, healthy baby with a beautiful smile. I adored her. I loved her.

  After a few hours of singing songs, crawling, and playing games, I put her down for a nap. I walked into the kitchen to make lunch when I heard a loud knock at the door.

  I rushed to open it, not wanting Sky to wake.

  My heart stopped when I saw who was standing at the door.

  It was my mother. Her hair seemed to have become greyer and her eyes had more lines. And she was holding a cup of my favorite treat—chamangos.

  What the fuck was she doing here?

  I quickly rushed her inside, so no one would see her.

  “What are you doing here? How did you find me?”

  She pushed by me. “I’m not stupid, mija. I know things. I can find you. I’m your mother.”

  “How did you even get on base? Did you fuck the guard?”

  She leveled me with her eyes. “Your uncle got me on. You got that nanny position the full town has been talking about.”

  Dammit. My uncle sold me out. I was actually surprised it took her so long to find me. “Doesn’t matter. It’s a job.”

  She handed me the chamango cup. When I had been young, she used to take me into town and share chamangos with me. It was the best thing ever—juicy mangos mixed with chamoy, an amazing sauce that was a mixture of pickled fruit and powered chilis. Topped with chili powder, lime, and a tamarindo candy, chamangos had been the happiest part of my childhood.

  To hell with my mom—I wasn’t going to let this treat go to waste. I sucked on that straw and drank it down.

  As I was indulging in my drink, my mom opened her mouth to ruin my bliss.

  “Have you slept with him?”

  I wanted to slap her. How dare she ask me that? She had no right. No right!

  “None of your business.”

  Then for the first time in years, I saw my mom cry. Her voice broke. “Listen, mija, listen. I know you hate me. But I need to tell you something. I was once like you. I wanted to leave this town, too. Until I became pregnant with you. Your father . . .” she paused.

  I jerked my head back. My father? She never spoke about my father. Never. Even my abuela didn’t know who he was.

  “What, what about my father? Who is he?”

  “He . . . he was in the Navy. He was here for ten weeks and then left. He abandoned us, mija. He told me he would take me away, start a new life with us. He knew I wa
s pregnant with you, but he left anyway.”

  My hand trembled and heat burned my eyeballs. Oh my god, was she serious? Was my father a Blue Angel?

  “You are lying to me.”

  “I’m not lying. He was a Blue Angel! But he was no ángel. He was el diablo.”

  I fought the nausea down my throat. No. No. No. She had to be lying. There was no way this could be true.

  “Prove it. You are a liar. You have always been a liar.”

  Her hand reached into her worn leather purse, and she pulled out an old picture. A Blue Angel pilot with piercing green eyes the same shade of mine was posing for a picture with my mom, who looked just like I did now.

  But that wasn’t all.

  The pilot was holding a little girl around Sky’s age.

  And that girl was me.

  Holy fuck.

  My lips burned, and my vision clouded, and it wasn’t from the chilies on the chamango. I felt instantly weak.

  “Why have you never shown me this before? He could’ve been any pilot you took a picture with at the show. Why should I believe you?”

  “Look in the mirror! Have you ever wondered why you are so pale when me and your sisters are dark? Why you are the only person in our family without brown eyes? Where do you think your green eyes come from? From him!”

  I didn’t need to look in the mirror. I always wondered why instead of getting tan my pale skin burned. I knew my eyes were the same haunting pale green as the man in that picture. These green eyes caused my classmates to call me a gringa. These green eyes caused my uncle to tease me and say I wasn’t a real Mexican. These green eyes were proof that my father wasn’t another brown-eyed local.

  “What his name?”

  She pursed her lips and closed her eyes and said his name as if it was a prayer. “John Emerson.”

  John Emerson.

  Paloma Angélica Emerson.

  But I still wasn’t sure. “I don’t know if I believe you.”

  “Why do you think I named you Paloma? It means dove. A bird who flies in the sky like a plane. Used at weddings as a symbol of love. I thought if I named you Paloma he would return to me. And Angélica was because your father was a Blue Angel.” And with that, she broke into sobs.

 

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