by Kim Karr
The doctor comes in and I begin pushing. At first I think I might throw up—the pressure I feel everywhere is too intense. But once it subsides, I push again and again. My hand is gripping Ben’s so tightly, but he doesn’t care. He wipes some hair from my eyes and I look up at him and see amazement and wonder on his face. My eyes drop to where his are locked and I see our baby’s head crowning. Intense stinging radiates from my core as I push harder and scream louder. Then just like that, our baby emerges into this world.
His cries are hoarse but steady as if he’s having little tantrums.
“I’ll do that,” Ben says to the doctor as he prepares to cut the cord.
“Can I hold him?” I ask with tears of pure joy leaking from my eyes.
The nurse lays him on my chest for only a brief moment but long enough for me to feel the beat of his heart.
“He has red hair,” Ben says, his voice strained with emotion as he tries to hold back his own tears.
The nurse takes him from me. “The doctor just has to examine him and we will have him right back to you.”
Ben squeezes my hand and presses a kiss to my forehead before he follows her. When he turns around he’s grinning ear to ear, holding our baby bundled in a blue blanket.
“Is everything okay?” I ask, unable to wait another minute.
“He’s perfect,” he says as he crosses back over to me.
I turn away for a brief moment with relief seeping through me to sip on the ice water by my bedside and catch sight of the book Ben had been reading to me just an hour earlier. Ben carefully places our baby on my chest and I study his little face—the shape of his cheeks, the slope of his nose, the fullness of his lips. Suddenly he opens his eyes and lets out a loud cry. That’s when I see his perfect dimples and blue eyes so much like his father’s. With tears of joy I look up at Ben and say, “Finn. Let’s name him Finn.”
Ben’s grin is wider than I have ever seen. “Finn is perfect.” He smiles down, resting his hand over mine. And as my eyes shift from the baby to Ben and back to the baby, I think this has to be the single-most beautiful feeling in the world. It’s a feeling that reaches all the way into my soul and takes my breath away. And it’s a feeling I know will never leave me.
Hours later when I awake, I know Ben is nearby because I can hear the sound of his breathing, but this time my senses are heightened. As my eyes flutter open his soft lips are on mine, and although he is barely skimming them, I can feel the heat that sears me every time he touches me. My eyes lift to see Finn in Ben’s arms. In looking at them together, observing the bliss I see on Ben’s face, I know that what we have isn’t perfect, but it is our own version of perfect. And even though the edges of our relationship may be frayed much like the hem of his shirts, the framework is solid and in the end . . . that’s all that really matters.
See where it all began in
CONNECTED
the first in the Connections Series by Kim Karr!
Available in print and e-book from New American Library.
We walked through the open door to the University of Southern California Campus Bar and Aerie pulled her tail up. “At least they aren’t playing that Halloween crap in here,” she yelled a little too loudly. As my ears adjusted, I heard a velvety-soft voice singing an unfamiliar yet captivating song.
Aerie stopped to put her devil horns on, and I glanced around the large room, recognizing a lot of students, while trying to get a look at the band. I shouted directly into her ear, “They sound really good. Have you heard them before?”
She was on her toes trying to see over the crowd. I laughed at how short she was until her pointy devil horn hit me in the eye. “No, but I love their sound,” she responded, still trying to see the stage and almost falling over.
I had been coming here for the last three years and couldn’t ever remember it being so crowded. I could barely see the long wooden bar to my right, and with the mass of bodies bumping and grinding on the dance floor, I couldn’t even catch a glimpse of the stage.
“Do you know their name?” I asked Aerie.
“I think they’re called the Wilde Ones.” She hiccupped and laughed. She winked at me as she started to dance her way toward some friends on the dance floor and yelled over her shoulder, “By the way, I love them! Great name and an even greater sound.”
“I’ll get drinks and meet you out there in a bit,” I said to no one since she was already gone. When the bartender acknowledged me, I ordered two beers, one with ice and one without, and tacked on two shots to help Aerie drown her misery.
The live music stopped and typical Halloween songs were blasted through the speakers. I turned my back to the bar and scanned the crowd for Aerie. You would think she would be easy to spot in her red sequin devil costume. She said she was out for vengeance, and if her outfit was any indication, she would be vindicated.
I didn’t see her anywhere but I did spot an attractive guy. He was still too far away for me to zero in on any specific feature, but something—no, everything—about him drew my attention.
I watched how he moved; his confidence captivated me. He seemed relaxed, like he knew exactly where he was going. And as he headed in my direction, I became mesmerized. Biting my bottom lip, I was unable to focus on anything but him. My head was still a little foggy from the three beers I’d consumed earlier and I was clearly not thinking straight when I made eye contact with him, and then slowly studied his body from head to toe.
As the distance between us narrowed, I could see that he was alarmingly attractive: long, lean, and muscular but not bulky. He wore a black beanie hat with his light brown hair sticking out. When I looked into his eyes, they undid me. Although I couldn’t see their color, I could feel their intensity. I almost feared that if I looked into them for too long, I might never walk away. His eyes aside, the words handsome and gorgeous weren’t strong enough adjectives to describe this man.
My mind wandered to where it shouldn’t. Knowing better than to compare this guy to my boyfriend, I did it anyway. I felt incredibly guilty, but I couldn’t help myself. Ben was all surfer. He was attractive, hot, and sexy with an ego to match. This guy was equally as attractive, hot, and sexy, but there was something else—something more. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it.
Easing his way through the crowd, he removed his beanie and ran his hands through his hair. When our eyes connected it felt like minutes, but only seconds passed. Suddenly I felt an electric pull forcing me to keep looking at him. Everything I felt indicated he was dangerous. I knew I should look away, walk away, but I didn’t. I couldn’t. He was just too alluring.
He was finally close enough that I could tell his gleaming eyes were green. I was instantly drawn to his smile. It wasn’t a full smile, more like a half grin emphasizing his dimples. His skin was smooth with no facial hair and that made me weak in the knees. His full lips were begging for a kiss. I’d never looked at a guy like this before, not even Ben. So why was I eyeing him this way, and why was I unable to avert my gaze?
Aside from his overall sex appeal, his clothing made him even more irresistible. He wore faded jeans, a black Foreigner concert T-shirt, and black work boots. I had to laugh a little when I saw the concert T-shirt because I was wearing one, too—my dad’s U2 T-shirt, knotted on the side, hanging off my shoulder.
Having made his way through the crowd much better than I had, he was now standing in front of me. His face was breathtaking; he had a strong chin; a small, straight nose; perfectly shaped eyebrows; and long eyelashes. He was a vision of utter perfection and I couldn’t help but smile.
The bar was crowded and there was no room on either side of me. Putting both hands in his pockets, he smiled back at me. Then, running his tongue over his bottom lip, he asked in a low, sexy voice, “Were you staring at me?”
I pouted my lips and rolled my eyes. I took a deep breath as I straightened my shoulders and placed my hands on my hips. “No, I was just looking for my friend while I waited on my drinks. You just
happened to be in my line of vision.”
He chuckled a little, then said, “That look was hot.”
I huffed out a breath and tried not to laugh. Did he really just say that?
When the bartender brought my order and set it in front of me, my phone started ringing in my pocket, but I ignored it as I continued to stare at him. “Why would you think I was looking at you, anyway?”
As the person beside me settled her tab and walked away, he moved to fill the empty space and tossed his beanie next to my drink. His proximity caused my pulse to race and my heart to pound harder. Leaning sideways, he rested his hip against the bar. With his eyes still locked on mine, he answered, “Because I was staring at you, hoping you were staring back.”
I looked directly into those powerful green eyes, so full of intensity, and I instantly lost my train of thought. With the electric pull only growing stronger between us, I feared I wasn’t going to be able to get out of this encounter unscathed.
He dragged his teeth across his bottom lip and his eyes scanned my body. The expression on his face told me he wanted to do more than just talk. I wanted to do more as well.
A moment of comfortable silence passed before he cocked his head to the side in the most adorable way and grinned. “With all this talk about who was staring at whom I think we forgot the basics. I’m River,” he said as he extended his hand with the most devilish grin on his face.
Feeling bewitched by him, I put my hand out to shake his but quickly pulled it away. Unfortunately, I also bumped into the person standing next to me and accidentally spilled his beer.
He gave me a dirty look and swore under his breath. River’s grin quickly turned into a frown, and he gently moved me away. In a clipped tone he apologized, “Sorry, man. Just an accident, but let me buy you another.”
The now drinkless man with a wet shirt looked at him and nodded. River pulled out his wallet and handed him a ten. “Buy two.” The man took the money and walked away, muttering something under his breath. River immediately returned his attention to me, and I bit the corner of my lower lip and smiled at him.
There we were, standing face-to-face, with only a few drinks separating us. Sliding one of the beers toward him, I took a sip of my own even though the ice had melted. “Thank you. That guy sure as shit wasn’t happy with me. In fact, he kind of acted like an asshole.”
Taking a sip of his drink, he started to laugh, almost spitting it out. Skimming his finger over my bare shoulder, his eyes locked on mine. “You’re more than welcome.”
Quivering from his touch and intense gaze, I took a step back, fearful of where this might lead.
Moving forward, he traced my last step. He was not going to let the distance widen between us. He stared intently into my eyes. “Now, where were we? Do we need to start over?” He waited for my response as he watched me swallow my drink.
I pulled my lower lip to the side with my teeth and smiled playfully. “We were introducing ourselves.”
“Okay, so let’s try again. I’m River and you are . . . ?”
“I’m not sure you need to know that information right now. I’m kind of thinking you might be a stalker.”
His eyes widened as he laughed. “You’re not serious—are you, beautiful girl?”
Unable to control my own laughter, I simply said, “Maybe I am,” but my laughter subsided when I registered the sweet name he’d called me.
Leaning toward me, he was close enough that I could inhale his fresh scent. It was a soapy, just-out-of-the-shower smell.
“What? If you’re not going to tell me your name, then I get to call you whatever I want.”
Averting my eyes from his gaze, I looked down.
After taking another sip of his beer, he set the mug down. He hooked my chin with his finger and tilted my head up toward him. His touch seared my skin and left it tingling. He stared at me with his intense green eyes and chuckled. “Can we talk about you thinking I’m a Jack the Ripper type? I just want you to know, I’m definitely not. In fact, I think it’s safe to say you were staring at me first, but in no way do I think you’re a stalker.”
My mouth dropped open. I was unsure of what to say. I knew he was right. I had stared first.
“So we can get past this, let’s just say I was staring first. Not that it really matters.”
We were looking into each other’s eyes as the bartender passed me my bill. When I turned to pay for my drinks, our connection was broken. Handing my money to the bartender, I thanked him and told him to keep the change. This distraction gave me some time to think about how to handle this potentially dangerous situation.
I watched River as he ordered two more beers, and realized I had to work out my conflicted feelings. I pushed my guilt aside and handed him one of the shots.
“Cheers.”
“It’s a beautiful day,” he replied before shooting back the shot.
I tried not to show how turned on I was that he had just quoted lyrics from one of my favorite songs.
Setting his shot glass down, he put his hand in his pocket. “So, does this mean you forgive me?”
His voice was strong, but soft, and made him even more tempting. I found myself thinking that he was not only adorable, but unlike anyone I had ever encountered before. I knew I shouldn’t be doing this. I had a boyfriend who I loved waiting for me.
I raised an eyebrow and asked, “Forgive you? Forgive you for what?” I was having a hard time concentrating on the conversation and honestly had no idea what the apology was for.
He shifted on his feet. “You know what? Never mind,” he muttered in my ear. His warm breath brushed my neck and I wanted to feel it everywhere.
Looking me up and down, he changed the subject. “What, no costume?”
Continuing our dangerous flirtation, I glanced down, motioning with my hands from head to toe. “How do you know this isn’t my costume?”
While tugging on my T-shirt and pulling me a little closer, he seductively whispered, “If that’s your costume you’re definitely taking first place in the contest because it’s the sexiest one I’ve ever seen.”
We were silent for a minute, not even our heavy breathing could be heard. The noise from the bar and the crowd around us had quieted, but his words, his touch, they inflamed me, excited me, and sent fire through my veins.
“Where’d you get this, anyway?” he asked, tugging at the knot on my shirt, pulling me closer.
It felt like the room was spinning and I wasn’t sure if it was him, the alcohol, or the fact that he had just asked me a question I didn’t want to answer. “My dad managed the Greek and was a collector of concert T-shirts,” I said, trying to push back the emotions welling up inside me.
He seemed to understand my hesitation before nodding, clearing his throat, and he once again changed the subject. “So, have you ever seen Foreigner play?” he asked, now pointing to his own shirt and grinning.
As I looked at the bold white letters across his chest, I pushed aside my sadness and refocused on our conversation. We were just two people who had a lot in common—or at least that was what I wanted to think. When our drinks were gone, he ordered another round. As I finished the shot, I accidentally slammed the glass on the bar, and the bartender glowered at me. “Sorry,” I mouthed.
River reached out and grabbed a strand of hair that had come loose from my ponytail. He very slowly tucked it behind my ear, sending shivers down my spine. Circling his index finger around my ear, he lightly tugged on my lobe. He sparked a fire in me that never before existed.
Gulping the drink I didn’t need to be drinking, I hoped to extinguish the flame. I hoped no one had seen him touch me that way. Ben would be fucking furious. He was ridiculously jealous. We had had many arguments about other men, all unjustified. At least until now.
As the strobe lights started to flicker and I leaned my hip against the bar for support, he put his hand on my waist and turned me so my back was against the bar. I wondered if he noticed me almost lose
my balance from the flashing lights and drunkenness. Moving to stand directly in front of me, he put his hands on either side of me and pressed his palms into the bar. He was enveloping me, but I didn’t feel trapped. I didn’t know what I felt, but I knew my heart was pounding out of my chest, my stomach was doing flips, and I became light-headed as goose bumps emerged on my skin.
I thought he was going to kiss me as he stared intently into my eyes. I closed my eyes, preparing for it, but I felt him abruptly pull away. Immediately, I heard a high-pitched voice squeal, “River, don’t forget we’re leaving right after the show,” and before I could catch a glimpse of the girl, she bounced away.
Smirking at me, he said, “My little sister has the worst timing.”
I was going to respond when I heard a drumroll echo through the bar. Glancing around, I tried to figure out what it was for. Amused, he rolled his eyes before looking at the stage and then back to me. “That would be for me,” he laughed, leaning in so we were face-to-face. “They want me back onstage. I’ve gotta go unless you’d rather I stay and we finish what we started? Because that certainly would be way more fun.”
I really hadn’t heard anything he said, but everything seemed to finally make sense. He was the voice I’d heard when I came into the bar. He was so charming, so captivating, and so aware of me. I was pretty sure I was drunk because I was feeling things I should not have been feeling. As I stared into his powerful green eyes, I knew I should’ve been trying to escape them.
Before I could say anything in response, he moved his head slightly back, lifted my hand, and slowly kissed it. Then he leaned into me and whispered in my ear, “Guess not. Not yet, anyway.” My hand was on fire, my ear scorched.