by A. J. Downey
“Okay,” I agreed.
“What’s your safe word?” he asked and I looked up at him sharply.
“What?” I asked.
“The word I told you in Florida,” he reminded me gently.
“Icarus?” I hazarded. He nodded.
“Will you go away for good if I use it?” I asked. I could tell something was different this time. He shook his head no.
“Just get ready for bed, go to sleep, I’ll be up when I can,” he murmured.
“Okay.”
“Reaver… Oh sorry Ms. Michaels, didn’t know you were home,” I turned to see one of the workmen, Buck, standing beside my pile of forgotten things.
“It’s okay Buck, I was just about to head upstairs,” I looked up at Reaver, searching his face which was back into its crafted mask of neutrality, his eyes though, his eyes were downright tempestuous. I stood up on tip toe and kissed him softly, which I think startled him. I smiled my best impish smile and reluctantly withdrew from his arms, wincing a bit when I lowered myself back flat footed. Reaver frowned.
“What was that for?” he demanded.
“Breaking in new heels, my feet are a little wrecked,” I answered.
“Buck, do me a favor and grab my girl a chair?” Reaver said.
“Uh yeah, sure no problem,” Buck sounded a little flabbergasted and it made me smile, almost as much as hearing Reaver call me his girl did.
Buck wheeled a dusty black office chair in from another room and I dropped into it. Reaver took a knee in front of me and lifted one of my feet onto his leg pressing his thumbs into the bottom and kneading. I groaned and dropped my chin to my chest. That was pure bliss!
“What did you need Buck?” Reaver asked but didn’t stop what he was doing. That was okay. I was on board. Like completely… Oh God that felt good!
Buck was saying something about a tricky installation of some sort or another when it came to a certain kind of patch or this or that, I couldn’t follow and after my day I didn’t want to. One of the projects I had been working on, the material the client wanted had been discontinued and we were just a smidge short but she just had to have that particular flooring or the whole project would be ruined. It was just plain draining working for Francesca, but as one of my better clients I supposed I should just be grateful she hadn’t fired me like some of the rest. Reaver started in on the other foot and I’d like to have died and gone to heaven.
I let my mind drift while the two men talked about putting the humpty dumpty that was my house back together again and missed it when Buck left and Reaver called my name. His hands stopped and came to rest on my knees and he tried again.
“Hey Doll…”
“What? Sorry… my brain went out to dinner without me. You are way too good at that.” He smiled.
“Go on up to bed Baby, you’re tired. I’ll be up in a few hours,” he said gently and I wasn’t about to argue.
“You better be,” I told him, “I’ve missed you.” He smiled and swept me with his cool blue eyes before standing up.
“Missed you too, Doll. More than you can know,” he said.
I nodded and went back up the step from my sunken living room to my entryway and gathered up my things. I padded up the stairs in my smoky pantyhose and by the time I got to the top declared them dead from too many snags. I figured it was a valiant and acceptable death and well worth not having to put the heels back on. I opened my bedroom door and it was like stepping from shattered and war torn to a peaceful and borderline opulent oasis. I shut out the ruin of the rest of my house by simply closing the door.
I showered and put on the black nightgown Reaver had bought in Florida. It wasn’t actually that bad. It was held up by thin spaghetti straps and plunged low in the back. The front hugged my body, subtly flaring at the hips and ending mid-thigh. Two panels ran along my ribs that were made of sheer lace, hints of my skin peeking through.
My bedroom and master bath were worlds away from what they had been. Before they had been done in subtle pastels of lilac and lavender tones that reminisced time spent in the country. Now they were done in whites and cool soothing blues that reminded me of two things, the beaches and oceans we left back in Florida, and Reaver’s eyes. Sappy and lame? Yeah. Did I care? No.
The bathroom was spectacular. It not only had a glassed in shower that was walled in beautiful light sandstone, but also a raised bath, big enough to fit three people. The bath was white, and a whirl pool, and was just the thing after a long day spent in heels being forced to deal with exhausting clients.
The wall opposite the shower and bath held the sinks and counters. The counters, also sand stone, had his and her sinks and closer to the closet, a lower counter with a small bench in front of it, a lighted mirror on the wall, specifically so that I could sit and do my makeup each morning. The closet was limned in by white floor to ceiling doors that resembled shutters. There was a window over the bathtub, I’d had the stained glass depicting butterflies and purple flowers of before replaced with one depicting a myriad of shells, sand dollars and scallop shells and even a conch. On the wall over the tub were two perfectly square shadow boxes framed in white, inside two perfect scallop shells I had saved from our meal on Cutter’s sail boat. They were as big as my hand and patterned so beautifully, I couldn’t resist. I’d wrapped them carefully in my swimsuit cover up and packed them in carefully with my things. I smiled and switched out the bathroom light and went into the bedroom.
The bed was a Queen and set high. High enough that a wooden step that matched the four thick square pillars making up the head and footboard’s four corners was set on the side so I could get up into it. The headboard was set higher than the foot board and had bronze metal scrollwork set in an expanse between the wood. The carpet was plush and off white, very similar to the white sand beaches we had enjoyed. The wall behind the bed was blue, the rest of them crisp and white.
Tall end tables were on either side of the bed so that I could reach the lamps when I was in it or out of it. They matched the satiny wood of the bed frame, lamps that matched the headboard lived on their tops. I switched one of these on. The natural fiber shade matching the creamy carpet.
I had found an antique dressing table that matched closely the color of more modern replica bed furniture and it sat in one corner. An antique dresser sat along the wall between the bedroom door and the doorway to the closet area which also acted as an entry way into the bathroom. I pulled some of the decorative pillows from the bed and turned back the white comforter revealing sheets the color of Reaver’s eyes. I got up into it and stared across the room at the wall opposite the bed and the large framed picture there.
Bronze sconces bracketed the sixteen by twenty inch frame, the frame it’s self a very modern black. The mats around the photo white then gray and the picture inside the black and white photo Marcy had taken of us in the light house. He had sent the image to Ashton and I had asked for a copy. She’d given it to me and I had it professionally printed as large as I could make it without it distorting. Never had I been more grateful for the increasingly good quality of smartphone cameras. I settled back into the bed and switched out the light. The ambient light from my bedroom enough to study the photo by. I wondered briefly what Reaver would think, but I didn’t get to wonder long because I fell fast asleep.
I woke sometime during deepest night to Reaver snugging up tight to my back, pulling me back against his chest. He paused, his hands sliding over the lace panels of the nightgown, his lips, where they were pressed against the back of my shoulder, curving into a gentle smile. He breathed me in and settled into the bed with his arms around me.
“You picked a damned comfortable bed,” he whispered and I smiled.
“It was okay,” I said, snuggling back into him, I was acutely aware of the way he spooned me, and just what my satin covered ass was wiggling against. He let out a groan as my body made more contact with his. I let out a happy sigh and told him, “Now it’s comfortable. I always knew it
was missing something.” Reaver chuckled.
“Love you, Doll,” he murmured.
“Mmm. Are you okay?” I asked softly.
“I miss him. I guess Aimee and her husband Mark have been disagreeing on some things. Not sure why, or where or how but she somehow got it into her head that they wouldn’t be fighting if Connor weren’t misbehaving but honestly, up until the whole stealing thing, Mark says he’s just being a typical ten year old.” Reaver was quiet for a time.
“What do you think it is?” I asked.
“Honestly, I don’t think Aimee ever got over the idea of ‘us’, even after she moved on with Mark. I think it doesn’t help that the more Connor grows up, the more he’s starting to look and act like me and I think that drives her nuts. She’s got a lot of pissed off and confused going on. Some of that’s my fault but only part of it. I screwed up. There isn’t a day that goes by I don’t regret those mistakes…” I hugged his arms where they were around me and twisted in his embrace to face him. I could feel the tension radiating through his body and it felt all wrong. I cupped his face in my hands and pushed his damp hair off his forehead. He’d showered before he’d come to my bed.
“What aren’t you saying?” I asked him gently.
“She tells my son she hates me and in the next breath tells him how much he looks like me,” he shuddered from head to toe and I couldn’t tell in the dark, but if I’d had to guess, I would put my money on it was to suppress his anger at the situation. God how terrible for Connor!
“Sounds like Aimee is tearing pages out of my mother’s parenting playbook,” I said softly and Reaver barked a bitter laugh and crushed me to him.
“I have to follow the custody agreement when all I want to do is rip him away from her, take him far away where he doesn’t have to put up with that shit. He’s ten Hayden, he’s ten and ought to be able to just be a ten year old boy without his parents bleeding their fucked up issues all over him,” he sounded savage and I clung to him, holding him as much as he was holding me.
“I don’t disagree,” I said softly. We held each other in the dark for a long time, and he would absently kiss my hair from time to time.
“I have him again this weekend. I want you to meet him,” he said softly, then, “Next weekend is the summer lake run; I want you to go with me.”
I nodded against his chest.
“Are you sure about me meeting your son?” I asked tremulously.
“Never been more sure of anything in my life. Trig and Sunshine are having a barbecue at their place, I figure it’d be good neutral ground.” I relaxed marginally.
“Yes, okay, that would be good,” I said and he gave me a little squeeze.
“Thank you,” he breathed. We were silent for another stretch of moments.
“Reaver?” I asked.
“Mmm?”
“What are we?” I asked.
“Dunno, Baby. Never been much for labels. Why don’t you pick one and we’ll go with it,” he said, I laughed.
“Just like that, I just say what I think we are and you’ll go with it?” I had a hard time picturing Reaver going with just anything. He was always his own man, doing his own thing and this was no exception. He rolled lightning quick and pinned me to my bed.
“Baby, I love you. I belong to you. I’m your very own monster on a leash in a lot of ways. I’ll guard you, I’ll protect you, I’ll love you and sometimes,” he nipped my shoulder playfully, “I’m gonna bite you, but never for one minute think that any word you put on us to define us to other people makes a bit of fucking difference to me. I know what we are, what I feel like when I’m with you, what I feel like without you… If calling me your lover, your boyfriend, your friend, your plaything; your anything, makes your life easier with the hoity-toity bunch or makes you feel more secure then label away. I’m a big boy and I can take it. Whatever you pick I’ve been called worse things.”
I melted a little inside at his words, tears springing to my eyes. No one had ever said anything so beautiful to me, ever.
“Kiss me,” I begged and he did, long and slow and sweet and I let the issue lay fallow. Defining our relationship suddenly became a moot point, I mean honestly! How do you define the undefinable?
Chapter 19
Reaver…
“I can’t get over how much he looks like you,” Hayden murmured for like the thousandth time. Trigger and my boy were going at each other with Super Soakers down in the grass along with Chandra’s grandkids. Dragon was manning the grill, Dray and some of the other guys were playing poker while Sunshine and the rest of the girls were putting out side dishes. Ashton was slowly but surely trying to organize some club events where the families could be more involved. She said the MC was the family she’d never had the chance to have and she wanted everyone else to feel the same so in the last year, get togethers like these started happening.
“Yeah. He’s mine through and through,” I agreed. I was sitting on top of one of the picnic tables on Trig’s back deck sipping a cold beer. Hayden was sitting on the bench beside my feet a cold glass of her sweet tea in her hand. We watched my skinny little rebel, bare foot and shirtless in a pair of red basketball shorts, charge after my best bud with a yell, firing a stream of water at will. All the kids were ganged up on him and he was fairly out matched. Hayden laughed.
“He’s got your hair and eyes,” she mused, again, not for the first time. I smiled down at her.
“Hey Dad!” I looked up and Connor trudged across the deck dripping water, out of breath.
“Yeah Bud?” I asked.
“She your girlfriend?” he asked and indicated Hayden with a wave of his water gun.
“Why don’t you show some respect? Get over here and introduce yourself, and stop talkin’ about her like she’s not here! Then you can go ahead and ask her!” I hooked Connor around the neck and pulled him into my side, planting a kiss on his temple.
“Ugh! Dad! I’m not a kid anymore!” he protested and shoved away from me. I grinned ruefully.
“Hi, I’m Connor,” He stuck out his hand at Hayden after wiping it on his shorts. Hayden shook it with a grave expression on her face.
“I’m Hayden, I’m pleased to meet you Connor,” she smiled her sweet charming smile and Connor grinned.
“So are you my dad’s girlfriend?” he asked her and I couldn’t help it, I held my breath as she turned her bright green eyes up to mine.
“What makes you ask Connor?” she turned to my boy and looked at him.
“You’re pretty,” he said and she laughed softly, “And my dad looks at you the way he used to look at my mom,” Connor looked at me.
“How’s that Bud?” I asked, taken aback.
“Mmm,” he shrugged, uncomfortable.
“Connor, what’s the rule?” I asked and he made an exasperated noise.
“Don’t open your mouth unless you’re gonna commit. Say what you mean and mean what you say,” Connor recited for me. Then he committed and I almost wished he hadn’t, “You used to look at mom like she mattered, like you missed her and wished we could be a family the three of us together… now you don’t. Now you look at her that way,” he waved his water gun in Hayden’s direction again.
Fuck.
Fuck fuck fuckity fuck.
Hayden murmured “Excuse me,” under her breath and got up and moved off towards Ashton, giving us privacy. I pulled Connor forward my hands on his narrow shoulders and sighed. Truth was best here.
“I love your mom,” I told him honestly.
“But?” He asked. My boy was smart, ten and he already knew when a ‘but’ was coming.
“But your dad did some stupid sh… stuff and your mom, well she had to do what was best for you at the time Buddy, and what was best for you was to not be around me. I’m sorry for that, but what I did… Your mom had to look out for you and that meant we couldn’t be together and then she found Mark, and Mark was good for her and for you… it just took me a little longer to really realize that and le
t her go,” adrenaline was racing through my veins while I watched him mull this over.
“I think mom’s mad you don’t love her anymore,” Connor said looking at his feet.
“Your mom has a lot of reasons to be mad, but I do still love her, she gave me you Bud. How could I not love her? I just love Hayden too…” I held my breath and Connor pretty much leveled me with my own gaze.
“Think I hurt her feelings?” he said looking over his shoulder at Hayden and Ashton. I waved Hayden over.
“She doesn’t bite Buddy, why don’t you ask her?” I said and Hayden approached.
“Do you love my dad?” he asked her and she smiled.
“Yeah, I think I do,” she smiled her perfect smile.
“You think or you know?” he asked and Hayden laughed and shot me a look over his head. I shrugged a little helplessly, the direct third degree shit, well that was all Aimee’s DNA.
“I know I do. Why?” she retook her seat by my legs and Connor twisted his lips back and forth in indecision.
“My Dad is a good guy and I want good things for him too. Not just my mom,” he said finally and I was surprised yet again. Where the Hell did he get this stuff?
“I love your dad very much,” she said softly and I felt like the whole world just clicked into place. I was pretty sure this was the happiest I ever remember being in a very long time.
“You know,” Hayden said, “I want the very same thing,” she and my son exchanged smiles and she tipped her head to the side.
“You still didn’t answer my question,” she said.
Connor snorted. “You didn’t answer mine either!” he shot back. Hayden’s smile got bigger.
“Fine, I’ll go first. Yes, I’m your dad’s girlfriend. Now what made you ask?” She looked at him and Connor grinned.
“You guys have the same necklaces. It’s what the girls in my school do,” he said and Hayden laughed, wild, high, loud and clear. Connor laughed with her and even I joined in and dared to hope a little.
“You got one more hour Buddy then I got to take you back to your mom,” I told him and Connor grinned.