by Kate Stacy
She gasps and a bit of her light returns to her eyes.
Not giving her a chance to respond, I keep going, “This might not be how I wanted to say those words for the first time, but I’m going to say them again anyway.”
I push up on my knees, putting my face level with hers. I reach up, framing her face with my hands. It’s a gesture I use with her often, a familiar comfort. She knows what’s coming. My lips meet her forehead, only a couple inches from the stitches she received just yesterday.
“I’m very much in love with you, Camille. I need you to hear my words now.” I kiss the apple of her cheek. “Feel them.” I kiss just below her ear. “Accept them, Camille. I love you. With all that I am.”
Tears roll down her cheeks, running onto mine.
Turning my head, I stop when my lips are only a whisper away from hers.
I wait. She has to want this. Want me.
She presses her lips to mine and I sigh into her kiss.
This.
This is everything. She is everything.
I never want to go another day without her kiss.
Too soon, I force myself to pull away.
“I want to explain everything to you, Camille. Will you let me?”
She nods, adjusting her position to get comfortable. I pull myself onto the couch next to her and take her hand. I need physical contact with her after not having any for what felt like weeks. I know it was only days, but even days is too damn long.
“When you called me...my mind was in a whole other galaxy. It’s not an excuse, just an explanation…”
I tell her everything. Give her all my truths.
She cries when she hears about Elena’s death. Her tears come harder when I tell her how Hannah reacted to the news. It’s the same when I mention Adam taking the news the hardest.
Trying to find the right words is difficult, but I explain how I struggled to navigate their grief while trying to determine what the lack of mine meant. For a short time, I hated myself for not being upset to hear about her overdose. I’m not heartless, but that day...I felt like I could be.
Everything that happened after. It’s a simple case of me reacting badly.
Hurting her was never my intention.
I tell her as much, and she kisses me softly.
Her lips taste like salty tears, but I swear I could drown in them and die a happy man.
“I can’t promise I’ll never fuck up again, Camille, but I’ll do everything in my power to make sure you never feel unwanted or unloved again.”
She takes a minute to pull herself together as she wipes her tears and tries to steady her breathing.
“It’s okay, Ryan. I understand now. I should have given you the chance to explain sooner, but my stubbornness wouldn’t have let me hear you.”
A chuckle slips out and I worry about upsetting her, but she laughs.
“I know my faults,” she says with a lift of her shoulder.
“You said it, not me.”
She punches my arm and I take it like a champ. It’s playful, but even if it wasn’t, I’d still take it. The tension between us has finally broken and I’m beyond fucking grateful.
Camille is quiet for a minute and when she looks at me, I know something heavy is still weighing on her mind.
“Are we okay?” I can’t help but ask.
“Yes, but...I owe you an apology, too.”
Shaking my head, I vehemently deny her need to apologize.
“No, Gorgeous. You have absolutely nothing to apologize for. You did nothing wrong. This was all me.”
“Ryan, I feel horrible. I wasn’t there for you when you needed me and that’s not acceptable to me. I took what you said the wrong way. I let my insecurities get the best of me and we both suffered. An apology is the least I can give you.”
“Really, you did nothing wrong. What I said? I would have taken it the same way you did, especially with your history. I know your past, baby, and I’ll never be so careless again. This pregnancy may have been what brought us together in a more permanent way, but there is nothing...absolutely nothing I want more than to spend the rest of my life with you. I love you. So much.”
“I love you too, Ryan.”
My heart skips a beat.
“Say it again.”
“I love you, Ryan. I have for a while, but I was too afraid to say it out loud. Too fearful of the past repeating itself. Terrified of being hurt and ruining things with you. That fear is gone now, you make me less afraid. I don’t know how to live without you.”
“Good thing you’ll never have to.”
Pulling her onto my lap, I take her mouth in a kiss that says everything I can’t find the words to express.
Everything is right in my world.
THIRTY-SIX
Camille
Licking the last bit of frosting from the fork, I drop it to the plate and push it away.
I want another piece of cake, but I’m trying to resist.
It’s hard.
The cake is delicious—it’s from the Sweet Spot, so of course it is—and I can always use eating for three as an excuse. No one would judge me.
But I already feel like I’m as big as a house, and I swear it feels like each week a new room gets added on. My doctor swears I’m at a healthy weight for this stage in a pregnancy with multiples. I trust her, but I swear some days it feels like my belly is gonna burst like a balloon.
Giving the cake one last glance, I push myself up from the chair. It’s a struggle, but I manage.
Everything’s a struggle lately, which is why today is my last day at the salon. In no time, I’ll officially be on maternity leave. Hence the reason for the cake. They threw me a little “Pop those babies out before you pop!” party.
No, I’m serious.
That’s what the banner hanging in the break room says.
Word for freaking word.
Ginger’s got jokes.
I take a quick drink of water and wash my hands before I make my way back up front. It’s a slow trip nowadays. I waddle more than I walk. It’s a fact I struggle with, but it is what it is.
I’ve got a little more than ten weeks until my due date and I’d prefer to keep these babies cooking as long as possible. Ten weeks feels like such a long time, but I know the day will be here before I know it. Plus, since I’m having twins, there’s a good chance I’ll go into labor early.
Ginger snags my attention when I finally make it up front. She tips her head toward my chair, letting me know I’ve got a customer.
Hope they weren’t waiting too long.
“Thanks, Ginger.”
I’m thanking her for so much more than the client. She knows it.
She nods. I wink.
It’s all we need. Any other outward displays of affection would result in a dramatic episode of ugly crying. We’ve been through it already once today. No one wants to deal with that mess of hormones again. Not even me.
We don’t have time for that.
Attempting to tie the strings on my smock—they barely fit around my enormous belly—I head toward my chair and greet my client.
“Thank you for your patience. I hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long.”
“I’d wait forever for you, Gorgeous.”
My head jerks up at the sound of his voice and I can’t hide my surprise.
A devious smirk curves the corner of his lips before transforming to that gorgeous smile of his. Those sexy dimples deepen into laugh lines. One look in his eyes and I’m a goner.
I swoon. Right there in the middle of the salon.
He knows the effect he has on me, but the mischievous sparkle in his eyes has me playing his game. We’ve got an eager audience, so I put it to use.
I fan my face dramatically. “Whew. Is it hot in here, ladies, or is it just me?”
The giggles and tittering laughter are the only answer I need. No one is immune to Ryan’s charm
.
I close the distance between us, and Ryan stands, taking me into his arms.
“It’s you,” he whispers against my lips. “Definitely you.” He drops his lips to mine and takes them in a panty-melting kiss. He kisses me so hard it steals the breath from my lungs. Heat coils in my lower belly, ready to ignite.
A low rumble works its way up Ryan’s chest and I capture it, returning it with a needy whimper of my own.
A sharp whistle cuts through the air, followed by catcalls and cheers.
Our lips part on a breath of laughter and my cheeks flame.
I bury my face in Ryan’s chest, body shaking with embarrassed laughter.
I lose myself in him so easily.
Like time and space are nonexistent.
That’s what he does to me.
I completely forgot we had a live audience. Their enthusiastic response to our heated kiss has me curious. Did they want us to stop? Or were they encouraging us to continue? It’s difficult to tell.
“Don’t make me hose you down, Officer,” Ginger hollers. Someone lets out a loud “whoop” and everyone else laughs.
“No need for that, Ginger. I’m just here for a haircut,” he says pressing himself to my back. He rests his chin on my shoulder and places his hands on the sides of my belly. “I’ve got an important event to attend this weekend. Need to look my best.” He rubs my belly and brushes a soft kiss along my jawline.
The ladies in the salon—stylists and clients—visibly melt at the caring attention he gives me.
Not Ginger.
“Mhmm.” She looks at him sternly, lips pursed, brow arched.
I stand corrected. There is one person immune to his charm.
Snickering under my breath, I grab Ryan’s hand and pull him toward the sinks. “Come on, Officer. Before you get me fired.”
Ryan chuckles, allowing me to practically drag him across the salon. He knows she won’t fire me. Today might be my last day before I start my maternity leave, but there will always be a chair open for me in Ginger’s salon. We’re family here.
Like the professional that I am, I treat Ryan like any other client.
He doesn’t make it easy.
The low moans and rumbling growls he emits while I massage the shampoo into his hair torture me in the best kind of way. Pulses of heat spark through my body, each and every one settling deep in my core. By the time I finish rinsing his hair, I’m a mess of hormones, desire, and raw need.
I’m entirely too pregnant to be so horny all the time.
It’s ridiculous what a few simple sounds do to my body.
Moving him to my chair, I make quick work of trimming his hair, styling it perfectly in the way he likes. It’s not the first time I’ve cut his hair, but this is the first time he’s come to the salon to get it done. I suddenly wonder if he had ulterior motives for coming here.
I get my answer as I remove the cape from around his neck.
“I wanna take you home with me.”
My lust flares, and I can only imagine what he sees in my eyes because his darken.
“Love the way you think, Gorgeous.” His tongue darts out to wet his lips as his eyes drop to mine, but then he shakes his head and his expression turns serious. “Unfortunately, I had something far less pleasurable in mind. We need to talk about your case.”
Well, damn.
“Get out of here, Cami,” Ginger chimes in, obviously eavesdropping. “I’ll see you this weekend, but don’t be a stranger.”
Arguing with Ginger never works, so I make my goodbyes quick. I’m more than a little anxious to hear the news about my case. The last thing I need before I head home is to have another hormonal meltdown while I give a temporary farewell to my work family.
Ryan insists on driving me home, refusing to talk about the case until we’re at there. Times like this, living in a small town is a blessing because the trip is short. I head straight to the bedroom and change into something more comfortable while I try to steel myself for the conversation we’re about to have.
Ryan’s flirty disposition at the salon should be enough to convince me that he has good news, but it’s not. Life has a way of throwing surprises at me. I’ve learned to expect the unexpected. I can’t help but be skeptical.
He waits for me in the living room, holding a hand out for me when I near his place on the couch. Pulling me down next to him, he smiles. It’s meant to ease my nerves and soothe the anxiety he knows I’m feeling, but it’s not very effective. I close my eyes and inhale deeply. Blowing out a slow, steady breath I open my eyes and ready myself for what he’s about to say.
“Relax, baby. We got him.” His smile widens.
The tension drains from my body. Covering my mouth, I choke back a sob of relief.
I fall into Ryan’s arms, soaking up his strong presence as he gently rocks me back and forth. I let my relief wash over me, letting my pent-up emotions flow from my body in the only way I know how.
“You don’t have to worry anymore. He’s going away for a long, long time.” He whispers the words next to my ear as he continues to hold me. “You’re safe, baby. I’ve got you. It’s over.”
He murmurs soothing words of comfort, holding me in the safety of his arms until I’ve released every pent-up bit of emotion.
“It’s really over?”
“It’s really over,” he confirms. “Are you good with knowing that, or do you want the details?”
I pull back and dry my eyes.
“I want to know everything.”
Pure relief sweeps over me as I listen to the official details of my case.
They can’t get Chad for anything that happened in the past. Maybe it should bother me that he’s technically getting away with what he did to me as a teenager, but part of it’s on me for not reporting him back then. I take full responsibility for my part. I can’t change the past and I accepted the truth of what happened to me a long time ago, even if I still can’t remember everything.
He’s being charged with assault, among a slew of other charges. Harassment. Stalking. Possession with the intent to sell. Those are a few on the long list of combined charges that will ensure he has an extremely lengthy stay in prison.
Ryan gives me the rundown on everything that happened after he was arrested in the grocery store parking lot.
His truck and apartment were searched.
Officers found a stash of burner phones, several of which link to the numbers used to harass me. They also found hundreds of pictures of me taken in various locations, including inside our home. I knew they existed, obviously, but hearing that there were so many was hard for me. He may be behind bars but it’s still creepy to know he was watching me for so long and I had no idea.
Drugs were also uncovered, in both his house and in his truck. Various types, but the one of note...date rape drugs. He was in possession of all the major players. Rohypnol, GHB, and ketamine. It’s sickening, honestly. The truth is, I may never know what happened on the night of my graduation. But the knowledge that even now, he was in possession of those mind-altering, memory-erasing drugs, confirms that he did, in fact, drug me that night. It’s not concrete proof, but it’s enough for me.
Chad Sullivan may not go down for drugging and raping me when I was eighteen, but I still feel as if justice is being served. He’s going to jail where he belongs, and I can finally let go of my past. Truly and completely let go.
It’s time for me to enjoy my present and future.
I can finally live my life without my past hanging over my head.
THIRTY-SEVEN
Camille
The entire town of Blackwood is here.
Not really, but you would think the same if you saw the crowd of people gathered in Madalyn and Jaxson’s backyard. There are people everywhere. I’m honestly a bit astonished by the turnout.
Everyone I know is here.
That one isn’t an exaggeration.
Our
families. Friends. Co-workers. Friends of friends. Even a few people I barely recognize.
They’re all here to celebrate the upcoming birth of our beautiful baby girls...or boys.
We’re going to find out today.
I’m pretty sure that’s the real reason everyone is here. They’re all curious. In a small town like Blackwood, Madalyn, Presley, and I have always been a bit of an oddity. Multiples are rare around here, so a set of triplets always garnered attention from the townspeople. Hell, everyone was surprised when Hailee and Drake had their twins. Even more so when they found out that multiples don’t exactly run in either family.
As one of three, the surprise wasn’t necessarily that I’m carrying twins, but rather the way we found out. I’m still not quite sure how the “hidden twin” news got around town, but I shouldn’t be surprised. It’s obvious that keeping a secret in a small town is next to impossible.
“So, what do you think?” Ryan nudges me, nodding toward the giant chalkboard propped up on a tailgate.
My sisters—and Holden, I’m told—went all out planning this event.
The chalkboard contains a tally of all the attendee’s guesses on whether the babies are boys, girls, or one of each. From the looks of it, the majority vote says both twins are girls.
“I honestly don’t know,” I admit. “I thought at some point I’d get some kind of feeling, some kind of motherly intuition that would give me some sort of insight to their genders. It hasn’t happened.” I pop a strawberry into my mouth. I can’t seem to get enough of my latest craving. “What about you?”
“I think you’ve ruined strawberries for me in the worst kind of way.”
“What on earth are you talking about?”
He leans in, lips brushing against my ear. “Oh, Gorgeous girl. Don’t you know you smell like perfectly ripened strawberries? It’s one of the things I remembered most after our one-night stand. Drove me fucking insane, thinking of you every time I caught a glimpse of the red berries.” He steps up behind me, pressing himself against me. “Every time I smell even a hint of strawberry, my dick gets hard.” He subtly grinds against my ass, physically proving his words. “Do you know how uncomfortable that is for me?”