by Virna DePaul
“Aimee,” Corbin said slowly, coming to me and catching my hands in his. “I didn’t bring you flowers. I brought you your family.”
* * *
Corbin
Aimee would either hate me or love me for what I just did to her. I found myself holding my breath, waiting for her to respond, but she remained silent, just staring at Grandy Love.
Fuck. What had I done? To Aimee, to myself? Had I fucked up her life completely, just because I’d wanted something different in mine? I’d arrived in Pontmaison empty, almost dead inside except for a flicker of life triggered by the music of the Louisiana bayou. I’d found Aimee, and everything had fallen into place. The screaming fans, the wild parties, the intense drive to perform, all of it didn’t matter after my time in Pontmaison. But goddamnit, had I made a mistake?
I’d thought I knew the answer. I’d overheard Aimee telling her mother there was no way she could ever find Grandy Love. And I knew from what Aimee had told me that she did want to know her father—I knew because her denial had been too emotional, too forced. Aimee had wanted something the way I’d wanted something but she’d been like me, too scared to face what was real. Too frightened to face what could hurt.
But maybe I’d hurt her too much. Because she still wasn’t saying anything to Grandy Love. To her father.
And then the tears came. I swore inwardly as two matching trails of tears streaked down Aimee’s cheeks.
Fuck! What had I done?
Maybe I should have stayed Corbin Ross, hard partying bass player of Point Break who lived life in a numb haze, feeling nothing, running from everything. Because if I had, then Aimee wouldn’t be standing in front of me crushed beyond belief.
“Aimee, I’m sorry,” I said roughly, pushing my way between her and Grandy. Her sweet scent, that heady mix of chocolate and sugar, wafted over me and my stomach clenched. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I thought you wanted to meet your father.” I turned to Grandy and his family. “This was a mistake. I’ve hurt her. Please go.”
“No. No, don’t go,” Aimee choked out. She placed her hands in mine, then tugged me to her side and faced Grandy and his family. She squared her shoulders and tipped her chin up high. “I want to ask you some questions. And I want answers. Real answers.” Her last sentence she directed at Grandy.
“I know what you’re going to ask. I made a dumb, youthful mistake,” Grandy said soberly. Next to him, his wife Constance squeezed his hand reassuringly. “I remember your mother. Lily was beautiful—much like you. The time we spent together was magical. Then The Lovewild’s manager found out how young she was. She’d lied, Aimee. Told me she was older than me. Her ID even proved it. Hell. I was only eighteen. She was seventeen. I’d thought she was twenty-one.” He cast his gaze to the ground.
“Just tell her, Dad,” Gabriel, his son—and Aimee’s half-brother—said confidently.
Grandy looked back up. “During the time your mother and I were together, The Lovewilds had our first hit. It went platinum in a flash. Our manager made an executive decision: he flew me out to L.A. to meet with the head of our recording company, and they both told me it would be all over for The Lovewilds and for me if I kept things up with your mother. I was young and cowardly and made a huge mistake. I never went back to your mother.”
“You ghosted her,” Aimee whispered.
“Yeah. That’s what they call it now. I call it being a chickenshit.” Grandy’s eyes held honest regret, and I knew from experience the dude was legit, but telling Aimee he was sincere wasn’t my place. He continued on, saying, “I never knew about you, Aimee. Honest. I would have done things differently if I had. I don’t know what, but there’s no way I would have left a seventeen-year-old girl—your mother—pregnant and alone. You can hate me for my cowardice for the rest of your life. It’s no more than I deserve.”
“That’s stupid, Dad,” Ella piped up. She beamed at Aimee. “You’re my sister. My dad was a dickhead—sorry,” she said when Constance cleared her throat, “I mean, he was a complete and utter ass—ouch! Mom! Don’t pinch me! I’m only telling the truth!” Ella twisted away from her mother. “Dad was a total and absolute jerk back then, but he’s a good guy now. And besides, Gabriel and I are awesome and we want you in our lives. No, forget Gabriel, he’s a total pill who won’t ever clean his room or do the dishes or—”
“Hold on,” Gabriel exclaimed. “I’m not a pill, I’m amazing.”
“No, I’m amazing, and I want a sister,” Ella continued even as her brother rolled his eyes, her mom sighed, and her dad shook his head. “So forgive my dad so we can go to the mall. But first can I have a slice of whatever it is that smells so delicious in here?”
Aimee’s shoulders were shaking. I put an arm around her to hold her close, to give her comfort as her heart was being ripped apart, but I stopped. That shaking wasn’t because she was crying, it was because she was giggling.
“Aimee?” I said her name, puzzled.
She looked up at me then, laughter and light in those grey-green eyes of hers, her olive skin flushed along her cheeks. “You brought me a family. A real, honest to goodness family.”
“Your family,” I corrected.
The smile she gave me, the one beaming with sunlight and sparkle, told me all I needed to know.
This time, I’d done right.
* * *
Aimee
I spent the rest of the day with Corbin and my new family. Fortunately, my mom was still out at Miss Cecily’s—I didn’t want her to know about Grandy yet, or the fact I’d found my half-siblings after all these years. That knowledge would bring her some pain, I knew, even as much as she had finally let go of the past. I’d tell her, and soon, but not today. This day was about finding my balance after being thrown so off-kilter.
In the upstairs apartment over Aimee’s Decadent Desserts, I curled up next to Corbin on the couch. We’d had a late lunch with Grandy and his family—it would take me a while to think of Grandy Love as my father—and the Love family had taken off, headed back to Los Angeles, but not before making me swear I’d stay in constant contact.
“This thing between us has a chance to work, right?” I asked, nuzzling in close to Corbin. As much as I knew he loved me, some worry still sat heavy in my chest. We had questions that needed answering, a discussion that needed to be had. “I mean, those fans can be crazy. I saw proof.”
“Liam and Tucker have all sorts of fans throwing themselves—and their bras—at them, but both are loyal to a fault to Abby and Nikki. I don’t care about any woman but you,” he said, taking my hand.
When I spoke, my voice came out as a hoarse whisper. “I am so scared of really losing you.”
Corbin leaned closer and pushed a few tendrils of my dark hair out of my face. “We already lost each other, and we were fucking miserable. I was a zombie. I hadn’t felt that empty since…well, since I ran from Kara. From Hallvard Hill.” He twisted to kiss me, and the rock Miss Cecily had given him brushed against my skin. He looked at it for a moment, as it lay nestled in my cleavage. “I’d like to go back there. To Hallvard Hill. I’d like to take you.”
“The place where you grew up? Sure. But why? I thought you had only bad memories of that place.”
“No,” he said slowly. “Actually, I only had a few bad memories—caused by Kara—but I had a lot of wonderful memories. When I ran from Kara, I ran from my family, too. When Miss Cecily gave me this necklace—”
“Talisman.”
He grinned. “When she gave me this talisman, I didn’t understand what she meant when she said it would help me see through dark veils in my past. I get it now, though. The guilt I’ve harbored over Kara, the shame… I haven’t been able to face my family and friends again. Not really. But you changed that, Aimee. You and the Louisiana bayou. The music I’ve discovered here, the friends I’ve made, the sense of community I couldn’t avoid, it all allowed me to open my heart.” He held the rock in the palm of his hand. “I’m not sure I can attribute all t
his to a rock, but I can’t say it didn’t help.”
“Are you…” I cleared my throat. “Are you going to have to go back to L.A. soon? I mean, to record. Before your next tour?”
“I will have to go back to L.A. A lot of what I do entails traveling. But I made a deal with Miss Cecily.”
“You did? And I completely forgot… Elmer Lamell told me you paid her back taxes. I can’t believe you did that for her. Actually, scratch that. I can believe you’d do something like that for a little old lady—you’re my Corbin. I know your heart. But what was your deal?”
He chuckled and pulled me in tighter. “Miss Cecily had her pride. She would only take my offer to pay off her taxes and set up the trust so she could live there the rest of her life if I agreed to one thing.”
“Which is?”
“That when the rest of the band comes to visit me here, they stay at her place free of charge.”
“When they come to visit you… You mean you’re…you’re going to move here?”
“Of course. Here is where you are. And I can be myself here. I love the beauty of the bayou. I love the small town feel Pontmaison brings, it reminds me of my childhood growing up in Hallvard Hill. I love the music—zydeco fills me with something I hadn’t known was missing. And I love you. Not sure about them gators, but hey, you can’t ask for perfection. Just something close to it.”
His answer filled me with hope, with delight. With love. “I could barely breathe when you were away,” I admitted.
“I can’t promise that nothing bad will ever happen because that’s life, Aimee, and scary shit beats you down. Sometimes you have to work on out-swimming a damn gator, but I’m hoping with me around you can feel safe. Know that I’ll always be swimming for you or at least beside you.”
I nodded. “I know. And I’d do the same for you. But maybe you can rest a little easier, knowing I quit being a tour guide last week. So that should help reduce the number of close encounters.”
“Good. The only close encounter I want is with you,” Corbin said, leaning down to whisper in my ear. “I only want to be your hero.” Corbin’s voice was husky and low, calling to everything womanly in me.
It was amazing to me how attuned my body was to his very presence, even after a few weeks. His breath on my neck caused goosebumps to spring up without effort, left me blushing and heat flaring through my belly. I wanted him, and I wanted to be with him for as long as we could.
He leaned down and kissed my lips, letting his tongue entangle with my own. That heat in my belly was flaring to life like a wild fire, and I wanted him more than I ever had, even more than our first time when the adrenaline of a near death experience had been flowing through both of our veins.
“I can’t promise that I won’t be scared.” I admitted. “I guess it’s hard to believe in happy endings when you’ve never seen one.”
“Then you’re right, don’t think about it as an ending. Think about it as every day. We promise again every day,” he said, leaning forward to kiss my throat. This time, I moaned a bit as he suckled at my throat, as his tongue teased and tempted me at my pulse point.
“I love you,” I said, finally feeling like I could admit everything to myself. The amount of misery I’d felt for almost a month without him could only make sense if I’d been in love with him to start. This wasn’t just an affair, wasn’t just someone I trusted and respected. No. I loved Corbin, and I needed to stop running from that. He stilled and stared down at me. Putting my hand on the side of his face, I said it again, making my voice as steadfast as I could. “I love you, and I’m sorry I didn’t believe you earlier.”
Corbin grinned, all those white teeth shining back at me. “I love you too, and I’m glad you believe me now,” he finished.
I tried hard, but I couldn’t hold back a yawn.
“You need some sleep. You’re always exhausted—you work too hard. But you don’t have to now, you know.”
“I can take care of myself,” I said, then I yawned again.
“That I don’t doubt, Aimee Bodine. You’re the strongest woman I know. Now where’s the bed?” he asked, sweeping me up and off my feet.
He lifted me up into a wedding carry, and I let him, some small part of me being far too hopeful and almost wishing this was a honeymoon night. It wasn’t, but it was special. It wasn’t just the reconciliation between us. No, it was us sealing a covenant, promising each other that we’d try, no matter what. We’d never run again. That was my promise to myself almost more than what Corbin was gladly offering. I had to promise myself that I’d stop pulling the emotional rip cord, that I’d stop fleeing to avoid pain.
Corbin helped me wriggle out of my jeans, and I tossed my t-shirt off my head. Before me, Corbin’s eyes grew wide and he licked his lips. It was gratifying to have the man I loved looking at me as if I were a bucket of water in the Sahara. That made the fire rage in my veins and in my belly, and I felt the wetness pool between my legs.
I was no longer sleepy—I was beyond ready for him.
Then Corbin slipped off his own t-shirt and pants, and I was practically salivating. His abdomen rippled with his eight pack, and his tawny skin seemed even more bronze than usual under the fading light of the sunset out of my window. His brown eyes regarded me with such sincerity that I could stare at him forever, will myself to stay forever in this bed and tangled in his arms.
“I love you too, so much, mon cher,” he said, as he crawled onto the foot of the bed. God bless Corbin. He’d tried so hard to mimic the Cajun accent, but he was nowhere close. I’d have to teach him.
We’d have time to teach each other so many things.
“Why are you smirking?” he asked, and I could see the ridge of his erection poking up through his boxer-briefs. God, I wanted him inside of me so badly, needed that connection with him. “I didn’t do anything funny.”
“Maybe you did,” I giggled. “Your accent is the worst.”
“Well maybe my tongue is better off doing other things, cher,” he said.
Then Corbin was on me, teasing my neck, scraping his teeth delicately over the skin there and by my pulse. Then his hands were on my breasts, stroking and petting them at first through the fabric of my bra. Already, I could feel my nipples hardening under his touch, but it wasn’t nearly enough. Sitting up, I gave him the angle he needed so that Corbin could remove my bra. His smile widened when he saw my flesh before him.
“It’s all for you,” I said, and then I was too lost in sensation to say anything else.
His mouth was over my left nipple, suckling it. My nipple was hard then, and Corbin was far from letting it lie. His tongue was flicking hard over my peaked nipple, leading me to pleasure that was making me scream. I hoped my neighbors wouldn’t notice, but most of me didn’t care, just as long as this pleasure never stopped.
Corbin kept up his onslaught, kissing his way down my breasts, then to each individual rib. Once he got to my belly button, he stuck his tongue in there, sliding it in and out, teasing me even more as his hands grabbed my hips forcefully. I arched my hips again, and he took the cue, using his fingers to help slide the thin cotton off of my lower body, exposing all of me for him. His fingers found that small thatch of dark hair at the apex of my thighs, and he ran them playfully through those curls. Moaning again, I bucked my hips a bit, rejoicing at his touch.
Then he directed his hands to my labia, spreading my most sensitive lips apart, even as his mouth found my own. As our tongues dueled for dominance, stroking and caressing each other, his fingers spread my lips apart and found the inner sanctum of my core.
He was thick and warm inside of my channel, and part of me relished the heat flaring through my body, the fire surging in my veins even as his fingers pumped in and out of me. But that wasn’t enough. The other part of me was frantic, desperate to feel all of him between my legs. Words seemed impossible to form, but somehow my mouth finally forced some out:
“Please Corbin, I need all of you.”
“Are you sure I can’t just play a bit?” he said, taking advantage of our parted mouths to ask his own questions. He highlighted his point by pressing a thick thumb against my clit, and I felt sparks arch across my vision. “I could make you wait for so long.”
“You mean you could torture me,” I said, trying hard to breathe, to remember how to do anything but writhe and moan under his talented (and possibly evil) touch.
He thrust his fingers deeper inside of me, accentuating his point, and I cursed loudly and lividly, almost lost to the pleasure completely. “I could do that…torture you for hours,” he said, even as he licked and sucked at my right nipple. Then he pulled himself back and shoved his boxers down around his ankles and eventually off in a few, fluid movements. “But even I don’t want to do that.”
“Me neither.”
He stripped, and I could see his cock springing free, as thick and hard as I remembered it. The tip was already glistening in the fading light, and I knew that despite all his tough talk of teasing and everything else, that Corbin was as ready as I was, as desperate to fully seal that covenant between us.
Corbin lunged forward and pressed the head of his cock against my pussy, teasing the skin there before he pushed himself inside of me, inch by tantalizing inch. It’d been a while since we’d made love and I appreciated deeply that he was taking his time as he pushed himself in, let me accommodate to him at my own pace. Eventually, he was balls deep inside of me, and I loved the feeling of it, the force of his pelvis against my own. He was laying on top of me now, pressing me to the mattress. He smelled of Corbin, of everything masculine and heady, and I loved the scrape of his beard against my cheek.
“God, I missed this,” I moaned. “I missed you.”
“Me, too,” he replied, and then he whispered my name like a prayer. “Oh, Aimee.”
He started rocking his hips, slow at first, but then I pushed my hips up to meet him as well, our bodies working together in a frantic rhythm. Corbin put his mouth over mine and kissed me with months’ worth of pent-up passion even as his hands dug deeper into my hips. He flexed his own hips again, and I felt him moving in and out, his cock hitting against my g-spot as he moved fluidly through me.