by L. B. Dunbar
“Everything I do is to prove her wrong. I will be someone one day.”
“I think you’re already someone,” I say with a proud smile. I lean my arms on the table and switch topics. “You say you’re a romantic, but it doesn’t sound like you’ve had a model for it.”
He smiles sheepishly. “It doesn’t mean I don’t believe in happily ever after.” Then he questions me about my upbringing. The road. My mother. I realize I don’t have the perfect example either, but like him, I want to believe in true love. I tell him about my relationship with Tommy.
“He’s the only father figure I’ve ever known.” I rub my belly. “I want someone dedicated to my child like him.”
Gage nods and taps the table. “I need Tommy to be our manager.”
“He told me. Why do you want him?”
“Because he’s Tommy Carrigan,” Gage teases, but my questioning stare makes him continue. “I think he’s smart. He’s talented, too, but he somehow kept your mother’s band together for nearly two decades, which was no small feat with the drama. Plus, he’s told me he sees himself in me, and I want to know what that means. Can he help me be better? Can he help us be bigger than we dreamed?” His voice grows excited with each question.
“I think he should take the job.”
“You do?” he asks surprised.
“I think it would be good for him. Give him new purpose. He knows the ins and outs of the business. His band was successful, so he knows what it takes and what you don’t need. I think finding himself in you is a good thing. Might make him feel he can correct some of his mistakes and find peace in the ones he couldn’t fix.”
“Maybe I should hire you for PR. That was a good sales pitch, but he won’t take the job.”
“He told me that, too.”
“He told you I had to give you up for him to take the job?” His tone lifts with his surprise.
I stare back at him, not blinking. “Um, no, that’s not what he said. Did he say that to you?”
“Yeah.” Gage is silent, and I pause a beat.
“Which leads me back to why would you need me? I’m in your way,” I remind him.
Gage shakes his head and chuckles, a forlorn expression on his face. His fingers come to his lips, tracing over the bottom curve as he looks out at the ocean again before turning eyes the color of midnight on me. “Ivy, you’re what I need. Period.” He doesn’t clarify his meaning. He signals for the check, hands over some bills, and we exit the fish shack.
+ + +
We stroll hand in hand for a bit, and then he pulls me into his side. We don’t talk much, sharing trivial things here and there, until Gage asks, “Do you have a name picked out?”
“Ava or Adeline. I can’t decide.”
He hums before he answers. “Ava Everly. I like the sound of that.” He’s pleased with himself and his lip curls, but I’m instantly concerned. He’s jumping too far ahead.
“Gage,” I warn, worried for him. He’s painting a future I can’t have with him. We—baby and me—won’t fit into the lifestyle he wants. He doesn’t need a family as a young guy in a band. He needs to be single and wild.
He kisses my forehead in response. As we walk, his hand strokes my shoulder and massages my neck, and by the time we return to the penthouse, I’m a hormonal hot mess. A fire has been lit in the patio pit, casting a romantic glow to the rooftop. Gage takes a seat on the loveseat, and I straddle his lap. My mouth crashes into his.
I want this man and the image he draws, and it’s dangerous. So dangerous.
Our mouths move, sucking and nipping. My tongue traces the curve of his lips before dipping forward. I swirl over his tongue, drawing it into my mouth. My hips move, simulating what I want from him.
“I want you,” I tell him, murmuring against his mouth.
“I want you too, babe.” His hands trace my sides, leading up to my breasts. He cups under each of them, pushing them together and upward. I pull back from his mouth, and he lowers to kiss each breast over my dress. He nips me through the material, forcing my already hard nipples to throb. Tingles shoot through each breast like a live wire and ignite my core. I rock against his lap with more purpose.
“Gage,” I purr, slipping my fingers into the hair on the back of his head. I tug and fall forward, kissing him once again. “I want you inside me.”
He groans. “One day, gorgeous.”
“Tonight,” I whine.
“You need love first, Ivy.” He mischievously smiles up at me.
“Shut up,” I mumble. I don’t want to hear such words. I don’t want to add to the fantasy I already have of him, and me, and my baby. I can’t add visions of a family to the hope in my chest.
“I’ve never seen anyone so in need of it. You’re desperate for it,” he murmurs.
The words piss me off even more. “Just fuck me,” I growl and rock with more vigor along the bulge in his jeans. I think I’m about to get my way when his hands climb both my thighs and slide under my sundress.
“No,” he snaps, and we glare at one another until a finger traces down the seam of my thong. I’m already wet and panting. He draws back up the crease, toying with me, teasing me. “I’m gonna take my time with you, gorgeous. I’m going to keep things slow,” he whispers as his lips hit my neck, and his fingers slip under the cotton. I gasp as he thrusts one up, filling me. I undulate over him, holding the digit in my depths.
“I want to learn every curl and curve and whimper and sigh,” he breathes under my ear, adding a second finger. The fuller feeling rolls my hips, and I move as if he were in me—another part of him, that is—which is long and thick under my sex. He meets my motions with the rock of his hips, thrusting upward, forcing his fingers deeper.
“I want to feel every fold and dip of your skin,” he mutters before nipping where my neck meets my shoulder. “And I want to own every orgasm.” His thumb stretches to the sensitive spot, timing all his fingers to move in a rhythm that pushes me over the edge. My fingertips dig into his shoulders as I lower my forehead to his. I bite my lip to hold back a scream until he commands, “Give it to me.” Then he covers my lips, and I moan against his tongue while I clench his fingers inside me.
When we slow both our thrusts and our kisses, he withdraws from me and sips his fingers like he did the other day. I chuckle until he kisses me one more time, forcing me to taste the saltiness of myself on him. We stare at one another a second.
“I want to believe you,” I tell him, scared of the admission. “I want to believe in all of it.” I shrug, vulnerable in what I’ve said.
“You will, babe.” Wrapping his arms around my back, he slips his fingers up into my hair to hold the nape of my neck. And for the first time in a long time, I get the hug I’ve needed. I don’t want him to ever let me go, which is a dangerous thought.
16
IVY
The next morning, I face my uncle for the first time since yesterday afternoon. He doesn’t appear pleased, and I’m grateful Gage and I didn’t end up in my room. Gage kissed me at the door, pressing me up against the wall until I was begging him to take me like he had the first time we were together.
The reminder set him off.
This isn’t happening until you’re mine, he stated, and I wonder once again what he meant. I’m thinking about this when my uncle coughs for my attention. I’ve been staring at the coffee machine as if willing it to make the necessary drink faster.
“You think I’m a child, don’t you?” I say, keeping my eyes on the coffeemaker.
“I think you’re acting like one.”
The comment sets me off. “Why? Because a good man is paying attention to me? Because he’s being nice to me? For once, someone seems to see me, and this makes me a child.”
Tommy pauses, blinking at my outburst. I might have just proved him right in his thoughts.
“Actually, I don’t think any of those things make you a child. Maybe that’s what scares me. You’re an adult. With a baby on the way. Are you
ready for this next chapter? Do you really think he is? His life with this band is just beginning.”
“And what about my life?”
Tommy sighs. “It isn’t ending, but this is a different beginning, girl.” His thick arms cross as he glares at me. As if I don’t already realize everything will change for me in a few months. Life will never be the same again. Is that really so bad, though?
The more I’ve thought about the baby, the happier I get. Not that I was sad when I found out. I think it was shock, and after losing Cash in the manner in which we did, I think I was a little numb to emotion. But the more time that passes—hearing the heartbeat and seeing the ultrasound—the more excited I get. Scared, too, but still in awe. There’s a baby in me, and it’s going to be all mine. And if Gage Everly makes me feel a little extra special with this baby, with his tender touches and gentle kisses over my belly, then I’m going to soak up what I’ll never have from a man and store it for the future when I’m alone, and it’s only baby and me.
I take a deep breath and reach for the coffee pot when the timer beeps. My hand shakes, but I pour a cup for myself and then reach into the cabinet for a mug for Tommy.
“Maybe I’m ready for different, Uncle Tommy. Maybe I’m ready for normal.”
“How’s it going to be normal if you’re with Gage Everly, rising rock star, unless he crashes his dreams?”
“I’m not crashing anything,” Gage snaps, and both our heads turn to see him leaning against the wall leading into the kitchen. He wears long swim shorts and nothing else. My stomach clenches, and my mouth waters. He’s just so nice to look at, and his slow, sheepish smile causes my toes to curl on the tile floor. I want to rush to him, but I hold back because of the vibe coming off my uncle.
“This…” Tommy points between Gage and myself. “…has disaster written all over it.”
“Why?” I stammer, trying to avoid Gage’s eyes burning into the side of my face. Tommy doesn’t speak, and I offer Gage my cup of coffee.
“Could you give us a minute?” I plead, hoping Gage understands. I need to have it out with my uncle. He huffs, hesitates a moment, and then steps forward to kiss my cheek.
“You look gorgeous in the morning,” he whispers into my ear, brushing back a lock of hair. I weakly smile, wanting to soak up the compliment but knowing I need to deal with my uncle. Gage takes the mug and heads down the hall.
When I think he’s out of earshot, I turn on Tommy.
“Do you think I’m destined to repeat all her mistakes?” The facts are, my mother got pregnant young, out of wedlock, and by a man who wanted to be a rock star.
“Not destined. You can be smarter than her. Make better decisions.” Judgment rings in his tone.
“Like she did with Hank,” I snap, reminding my uncle of the volatile relationship which could have ended in happily ever after if my mother had only said yes. “Or Lawson.”
The mention of my brother causes Tommy’s eyes to narrow on me. “I’m not discussing either of them with you.”
“I’ll never know her secrets, will I?”
“You don’t need to know her secrets; you just need to learn from her mistakes.” One main mistake I think my mother made was never giving into Hank Paige, a man who loved her and her children without question. “She loved you, and that’s all you really need to know,” Tommy adds.
Sometimes I wondered what conditions came with that love.
When I return to my room, I find Gage sitting on my bed, a vision of casual and comfortable, with his ankles crossed and my mug of coffee in his hand. He’s reading the baby book.
“You okay?” he asks when I close the door.
I nod. I don’t know what to else to say. It’s embarrassing to fight in front of him, about him, with my uncle. Gage sets the coffee on the nightstand and closes the book. He slips off the bed to stand before me, cupping my face in the way he does. He pulls me close so all I focus on is him.
“I don’t want you defending me to him,” he tells me, kissing the corner of my mouth.
“I don’t want him judging me.” My uncle is a far cry from perfect, and while I appreciate his attention, support, and love, I need to live my life how I want.
“Let’s get out of here today,” Gage offers, and I couldn’t agree more. We head into a small beachfront town where we play tourists for the day. We shop, we eat, and we eventually end up at a baby store. Gage pulls me in to look at all the tiny clothes and gadgets. He picks up a pink onesie with a tutu at the waist.
Princess in training, it reads.
“Sold,” Gage states, tucking the item under his arm.
“What are you doing?” I laugh.
“I’m buying my girl her first outfit.”
“Gage,” I warn, my shoulders falling. He’s too good. Too sweet.
“Look, Ivy. No matter what, that girl belongs to me. To us. The band. We’re all going to love her.” I lower even more with that thought. He’s talking about the guys as a whole. The band as a unit. Collectively, they’ll love the baby. Her. And selfishly, I wonder who will love me like that.
I smile weakly, holding back the burn in my nose and the sting in my eyes. Of course, I want my child to be loved by many. I had that kind of love. A whole band worth of love.
17
GAGE
Something in what I’ve said makes her quiet, and once we’ve made the purchase, she decides she’d like to go back to the resort. I don’t want her to hole up there again and hide out in the penthouse, but I don’t want to push. A lot has happened in the past twenty-four hours.
When we get back to the condo, Ivy says she’s going to take a nap, but I don’t buy it. She wasn’t tired the whole day. She doesn’t even appear tired now, so I follow her to her room.
“What are you doing?” she snaps, and I want to suck the sting off her lips.
“I’m taking a nap with you.” Napping is the last thing on my mind, but I’ll hold her if it’s the only way she’ll let me be close to her right now. She gives me a puzzled look but doesn’t fight me. Crawling onto her bed, she lies on her side, and I climb up behind her. I have no other intention than to make her relax.
I start by massaging her neck, which she rolls forward to give me better access to work the muscles. She’s delicate, or maybe refined is the word I’d use to describe her. I press a kiss to her nape and then work my palm over her shoulder, squeezing and pressing at the tender slope until I coast down her arm. I rub up and back, watching the fine hairs rise under my touch. She shifts, and her backside hits my front.
“Ivy,” I warn. As my hand lowers to her wrist, she bends her elbow to slip up and entwine my fingers with hers.
“You’re turning me on,” she whispers, and it’s just what I want to hear. I sit up and reach behind my neck to remove my shirt. Ivy twists to look at me over her shoulder.
“I don’t think there’s any move sexier,” she mutters in a groggy voice thick with desire. I’ll remove a million shirts if she looks at me like she is right this moment. Desire fills her eyes. I lie back down and slip my hand under her dress. I tug at her panties, and she lifts her hips to remove the slip of fabric. My hand palms the cool globe of her ass cheek.
“Take off your dress,” I murmur into her hair, still fondling her smooth, rounded skin. She sits up and slips the long T-shirt dress over her head. With her back to me, I draw a finger down her spine, and she glances at me over her shoulder. “I don’t think there’s anything sexier.” My dick rises to full mast as her pouty lips pucker. I need to kiss her, and I sit forward, taking her mouth with mine. My hand cups the side of her neck, keeping her twisted in this position while I savor her lips. I’m convinced I could kiss her for hours.
I pull back and flick the catch on her bra. She tugs it forward and then flips it to the end of the bed. It’s the first time I’ve seen her completely naked. A sliver of sunshine peeks through the slats of the blinds, highlighting her hair and her smile.
“You’re gorgeous,” I tell h
er, tugging her back down to her side. Her hand moves to her belly.
“I’m getting fat,” she whispers.
“You’re becoming more beautiful every day.” She chuckles at my line, but I’m not teasing, and to prove my point, I roll her on top of me. Her back to my front.
“Gage,” she exhales my name in surprise as her body blankets mine. I reach behind me to hike up a pillow, lifting us only a little. I want her over me like she is, the warmth of her back on my bare chest. I reach both hands around her and squeeze each engorged breast. They’re growing riper every day, filling for a purpose, yet there’s nothing sexier than feeling the weight, pressing the heaviness, and then tweaking her nipples into sharp tips. I watch over her shoulder as she arches, forcing herself into my hands, begging me to continue to squeeze.
“I want a taste of each of these, but not yet.” I flatten my hands below each breast and press downward, skimming my palms over her skin until they climb the bump at her lower belly. I rest there for a moment.
“I can’t wait to meet the future princess, but for now, I’m going to have my way with the queen.” Her legs fell between mine, but I angle my feet to scoop under her ankles, forcing her legs to spread to the outsides of mine.
She purrs my name, both in a warning and with curiosity. I lift my knees, forcing her thighs to open wider.
“I feel exposed like this,” she tells me.
“Good,” I reply, lowering my hands to press on her inner thighs, stretching her even more. Then I take a finger and circle her pussy and growl at my discovery. “You’re dripping.”
“You do this to me.” I nip at her neck, pleased with her response. I want to feel her dripping all over me, but I steel my patience. I circle slick folds one more time before entering her. Her head pops off my shoulder, and my hips buck up beneath her. My dick twitches, knowing he’s right below her entrance. So close but not close enough. Not yet.
A second finger enters her, and I take my time to play in her depths. With her legs spread on either side of my hips, she’s open wide, and I watch over her shoulder as my fingers disappear inside her. I’m so hard beneath her, so desperate to enter her, but I promised her slow, and I’m a man of my word. I didn’t think it’d be possible for her to grow wetter, but she does, and within seconds, her essence coats my digits.