Forever with You

by Jennifer L. Armentrout

  Nick seemed to sense just when I needed him. Even if he was asleep, his arms would tighten around me, and sometimes, when my restlessness woke him, he would talk to me until I fell back asleep, distracting me with some of the crazy things he’d seen while working at Mona’s. He was simply there for me, and I let him in completely.

  And there was no denying how much I loved this man.

  Mom arrived Christmas Eve morning, and after checking in at a nearby hotel, she came straight to my apartment. When she knocked on the front door, I glanced over at Nick as he rose from the couch. “You ready for this?” I asked.

  A lopsided grin formed. “Of course.”

  I wasn’t so sure as I opened the door. My mom could be . . . a lot to handle, and she all but tackled me as she rushed through the open doorway, wrapping her arms around me. I was enveloped in her warmth and vanilla-­scented perfume.

  Her hand smoothed over the back of my head. “Oh, my sweet girl . . .” She held me tight, and I was suddenly the little girl who just . . . just needed her mom, because now everything would be okay.

  Loki’s muffled bark drew us apart. Looking over her shoulder, I spotted the little dog eyeing us from inside the carrier. I lowered my arms as I stepped back. “I better get the dog before it chews its way through the metal bars.”

  Mom rolled her eyes, but she knew it could happen. When Loki wanted out of something, Loki got out of it. The dog could scale fences. As I picked up the carrier, I brought it into the apartment with me, closing the door behind us. I wasn’t surprised that she had Loki with her instead of leaving the dog at the hotel.

  She didn’t leave Loki anywhere.

  Nick stepped forward, extending a hand as his one-­sided grin grew. “Hello, Ms. Keith.”

  “And this must be Nick. Now I can see why you are so distracted when you’re on the phone with me and he’s around.” Mom eyed him as she took his hand.

  He smiled as his gaze found mine. “I like her.”

  “Of course you do,” I muttered as Mom checked him out.

  “Wow. Stephanie, wow.” She glanced over her shoulder at me. “I’m very proud of you.”

  “Oh my gosh.” My cheeks burned. “Mom.”

  She chuckled as she turned back to Nick. “It is a pleasure to finally meet you.” Then she dropped his hand and folded him into one of her mom hugs. I could see that Nick was surprised, but he returned the gesture without awkwardness, and I loved him even more for that. “I’m so sorry about what has happened,” she said, her voice low as I bent down, unlocking Loki’s carrier. “These things are never easy, but you look like you have the shoulders to carry that weight.”

  “I’m going to do everything I can to do just that,” he replied, earning a smile of approval from my mom.

  Loki scrambled out, commencing the marathon sniffing event as Nick offered my mom something to drink. Nervously, I watched them move into the kitchen as I folded my arms across my waist. They were talking about her drive up here, how long she was staying, and just general chitchat as he made her coffee. I stayed back, pretending to keep an eye on Loki as the dog darted across the couch and then jumped to the floor, racing back toward the bedroom. When Mom looked over at me and winked, my lips curved up at the corners. She didn’t have to say it, but I knew she was already starting to fall for Nick herself.

  Taking a deep breath, I walked over to the kitchen and my stomach twisted pleasantly as Nick drifted to my side, curving his arm around my shoulder. As my mom tinkered with the sugar and creamer, Nick leaned down and brushed his lips over my cheek.

  I swallowed hard as I glanced up at him. “You doing okay?” he whispered.

  “Yeah.” I smiled. “Yeah, I am.”

  After my mom went back to the hotel with the little hooligan known as Loki, I packed a bag and rode back to Nick’s house to spend the rest of Christmas Eve there so Kira, the in-­home nurse, could be home for the night. Mom would be joining us at Nick’s house in the morning, and it seemed like an awful big step, but Nick was chill about her coming over.

  While Nick was upstairs checking in on his grandfather, I pulled the gift I’d gotten him for Christmas and carried it into the living room. With the TV off and only the flickering white light from the Christmas tree, a very mellow feeling settled over me as I sat on the couch.

  It wasn’t long before Nick joined me on the couch. “How’s your granddad?” I asked.

  “He’s sleeping.” He glanced down at my hands. “What’s that?”

  I held up the small wrapped box. “It’s a Christmas present. I wanted to give it to you now.”

  “You don’t want to wait?”

  “I’m impatient. Plus it’s really not that awesome a gift.” I grinned when he laughed. “I mean, I suck at getting gifts. I’m not the most creative person when it comes to those things, but yeah, I just want to give it to you now.”

  Nick grinned as he took the present from me, slipping his finger under the edges of the wrapping paper. He peeled the paper back and made quick work of it. When he flipped open the box, I pressed my lips together. “Whoa.” He reached in, lifting the watch out of the box. “This is nice, Stephanie.”

  “Really?”

  The smile reached his eyes. “Hell yeah. I’ve been saying for months I need to get a watch. It’s good to have one when I’m working.”

  “It’s also water resistant,” I pointed out, feeling goofy, “and . . . yeah. I’m glad you like it.”

  “I do.” Stretching over, he placed the watch on the coffee table, and as he straightened cupped my cheek. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome,” I whispered.

  Nick kissed me slow and sweet, his lips and fingers lingering as he drew back. “Stay right here, okay?”

  “I’m not going anywhere.”

  His eyes held mine for a moment and then he stood, disappearing around the corner of the couch. It sounded like he was heading into the bedroom. He returned quickly, taking his seat beside me. A square, unwrapped dark velvet box was in his hand. “Since you gave me your gift, I want to give you mine.”

  I glanced up at him as I quietly took the box that was a little smaller than my palm. I had no idea what to expect when I popped it open, but when I saw what was in it, my breath caught.

  Nestled in the box was a pair of silver dog tags. “Oh gosh,” I whispered as I smoothed my thumb over one of them. My throat clogged.

  “It’s two of them.” Reaching over, he turned one around. His name was carved into it. “The other has your name. I know it sounds kind of cheesy. Dog tags. But I saw them in the store and they made me think of your dad and how your mom wears his tags. It was kind of spur-­of-­the-­moment thing. You don’t have to wear them—­”

  I looped my arm around his neck and pulled him over, kissing him. “I will wear it. Every day.”

  “Yeah?”

  Sniffling, I nodded as I sat back and looked down at them. I pressed my lips together. The gift was so incredibly thoughtful. “Will . . . will you wear the other?”

  “Fuck yeah.”

  I laughed and my breath hitched again. Carefully pulling the tag with his name on it free, I slipped it over my neck, letting the cool metal slide under my sweater. I took the one with my name on it and lifted it. Grinning, Nick lowered his head and I slipped it over his head. He pulled his shirt loose, letting the tag with my name on it fall against his chest.

  And then I smiled for what felt like the first time in days. The words came right out, requiring no effort. “I love you.”

  Nick froze and his shirt floated back against his skin. He started as if he was about to say something and his head swung toward mine. His lips parted. “What?”

  “I love you,” I repeated, holding his wide gaze. The pupils had dilated and the green seemed brighter. I couldn’t believe how easy the words were to speak. “I’m in love with you. I
fell for you weeks ago—­months ago—­and I just wanted to tell you that.”

  He stared at me.

  “And you don’t have to say it back. I don’t—­”

  Nick’s large hands clasped my cheeks and within a stuttered heartbeat his mouth was on mine. The silky soft kiss stole my breath. “Let me hear it again,” he asked, his breath rough, but then he kissed me again, his tongue gently parting my lips. “Tell me.”

  I wrapped my hands around his wrists. “I love you, Nick.”

  “Christ.” He rested his forehead against mine, his large hands trembling as he held my cheeks. “I never thought I’d hear you say that.”

  “What?” I whispered.

  He slid one hand around, his fingers delving deep in my hair. “Because I never thought I would be lucky enough to hear it—­to know that what I felt for you was the same thing you felt for me.”

  I stilled. There was a good chance I wasn’t breathing. A flutter started deep in my chest. “What are you saying?”

  “I don’t just love you. I’m in love with you. Hell, I have been for a while, and I wanted to tell you that so many times over, but I . . . fuck, I couldn’t get it out of me. I don’t even feel like I deserve this.”

  My heart was racing so incredibly fast. Tears blurred my eyes, and the sweetest yearning blossomed in the pit of my belly, chasing away everything else. “You deserve that.”

  “I’m going to prove it to you, Stephanie. You have no idea.” His lips met mine again, and the kiss was deeper, rawer. “And you’re going to get tired of hearing me saying this. I love you. I’m so fucking in love with you, Stephanie.”

  “I’ll never get tired of hearing that.” I slid my hands down his strong arms. “There’s no way.” I squeezed my eyes shut. “This is what I’ve been waiting for. You’re what I’ve been looking for.”

  Nick’s hand flexed in my hair. “You don’t have to wait anymore. We don’t have to wait anymore.”

  Chapter 31

  Job Blanco, the kind and hardworking man who held his family together through the worst kind of tragedies, passed away peacefully, while asleep, on April eighteenth. When he slipped away early that morning, he hadn’t lost his battle with Alzheimer’s. No. Job had fought too long, too hard, and too bravely for him to have lost any fight.

  He was simply done.

  The timing of his death was not entirely unexpected. For several days Nick knew it was coming. He was still shocked when it happened, but the writing was on the wall, and while anyone would wish that was a message no one ever had to see, it enabled Nick to take the time off to be there with his grandfather.

  For about a week, I spent the nights at his house, and I was so thankful that I was there with Nick, my arms wrapped around his waist, as he sat by his grandfather’s bed and said good-­bye for the final time.

  Saying good-­bye was never easy, but I think there was a relief mixed in with the grief Nick was feeling. His grandfather was no longer suffering.

  In his grandfather’s will, he had requested certain customs to be carried out based on his heritage, and Nick had honored those wishes, which weren’t very different than the processes I was familiar with. The funeral was less than a week after his death, and he was laid to rest beside his wife and the rest of his family, which had left long before him.

  The following weekend I helped Nick at the house. We cleared out his grandfather’s bedroom, setting aside items that he wanted donated into one pile and little personal effects that Nick wanted to keep in another.

  With spring in the air, there was something refreshing about the whole process, not just for Nick, but also for me. Windows were open. Breezy air floated through the rooms. Everything felt open and new. With each load of clothing I packed, it was like I was folding up the lingering guilt and the hurt, storing it away, because each day it got a little easier to deal with the loss of the baby. It got a little easier to accept that no one had done anything wrong, and each day both of us moved a little closer to moving on. It was a process, though, just like clearing out his grandfather’s room. One where some days it felt like one step forward was actually five steps backward. Some days it was hard not to try to hide from the pain, to not give in to the what-­ifs of the past and of the future.

  As expected, when I met with the doctor after the miscarriage, there were no answers as to why it happened and no way to guarantee that it wouldn’t happen again. We simply would not know until the next time I got pregnant. And not knowing was hard to process. It wasn’t like I dwelled on it every day, but there were moments when a near paralyzing uncertainty would seize me. Could I have kids? I didn’t know, but I kept telling myself that if I couldn’t, it would be okay.

  Like Nick had said, we had each other.

  And that was what we needed.

  Nick wasn’t sure what he was going to do with his grandfather’s room, leave it as a guest bedroom or convert it into something else.

  Standing in front of the newly remade twin bed, I looped my arm through his as I leaned into him. “You don’t have to make a decision right now about this room.”

  “You’re right.” He turned his head and dipped his chin, brushing his lips across the top of my messy and probably dusty bun. “I think I’ll keep it like this for right now. I like it as a bedroom.”

  My gaze traveled across the room. On the now empty dresser, framed photos of his grandfather over the years were lined up like little memory soldiers. Leaving this room as it was for now was a good idea. “Me, too.”

  “Thank you for helping out. I really appreciate it.” Nick pulled his arm free and then reached down, taking hold of my hand. He lifted it. “But you’re filthy.”

  I smiled up at him. “So are you, babe.”

  “Then I think we need to rectify that.”

  My body was immediately on board with that idea. Nick led me out of the room and downstairs, to the master bedroom off the kitchen. Nick made a show of stripping off our clothes, and it took longer than necessary, but there wasn’t a part of me that was disappointed in the pacing. I think, before the water was turned on and before the wispy steam filled the bathroom, he’d kissed every square inch of my body. And he wasn’t done yet.

  “I love your lips.” He kissed me. “And those cheeks.” His lips found their way there. “I love your eyes.” He dropped a kiss against my brow and then started working his way down. “I love your throat.”

  “My throat?” I laughed huskily.

  “Uh-­huh. And I love your shoulder blades.” He kissed my collarbone.

  “You’re so fucking weird.”

  “I’m so fucking in love with you.”

  My heart squeezed. It did that every time I heard those words.

  He worshipped every inch of my body, and when he took the tip of my breast into his mouth, sucking deep, he drew a ragged moan out of me, stirring up powerful desire. “And I really love these.”

  I liquefied, ready for him to the point where it was almost painful. “Oh God.”

  We took our time in the shower, and I was sure that no more than a handful of minutes was actually dedicated to the whole cleansing part. It wasn’t long before my back was pressed against the slippery tile and Nick was on his knees, drawing every soft cry out of me. My knees were weak and my body still trembling from a powerful release when he rose before me, the water sluicing off his bronze skin as he thrust into me, his green eyes latched onto mine in a possessive, consuming stare.

  He stretched me in the most delicious way and he held me so gently, even as his body strained against mine. Our bodies were flush, hips-­to-­hips, chest-­to-­chest. “God, you feel too damn good for me to take my time.”

  “Don’t take your time.” I skated my fingers over his skin, down his chest.

  Nick groaned. His muscles trembled as he moved and my hands slipped over his skin. We quickly lost ourselves in each o
ther, him pumping wildly, my hips meeting his, and it was no small miracle that we didn’t fall and break our necks in there.

  Later, much later, we lay on his bed, face-­to-­face, our skin long since dried as he toyed with the damp strands of my hair. “I’ve been thinking,” he said.

  I arched a sleepy eyebrow. “Congratulations.”

  He chuckled. “Smartass.”

  My smile stretched my lips. “What have you been thinking about?”

  “It’s kind of random.” He tossed a strand of hair over my shoulder and then picked up another. “But I’ve been thinking of talking to Calla, telling her who my father is.”

  My breath caught as some of the sleepiness faded. “For real?”

  “Yeah.” One side of his lips kicked up. “What do you think about that?”

  “What do I think?” I wiggled over to him, inching him onto his back. Straddling him, I placed my hands on either side of his face.

  “I like where this is heading,” he murmured.

  “Shush it,” I told him. “I think it’s a great idea.”

  “You doing me on top?”

  I cocked my head to the side, shooting him a bland look. “No. That’s not what I’m talking about.”

  He laughed again, and those green eyes were lighter than I’d seen in days. “I know.”

  Bending over, I kissed him lightly. “I’m proud of you.”

  His hands settled on my hips. “Why?”

  I raised a shoulder. “I just know it’s going to be a hard conversation to have, and I know how much you’ve really been thinking about this. Talking to Calla is a huge step to just letting all of that go.” I kissed him again and then sat up. “Whenever you’re ready to have that conversation, if you want me there, I’m there.”

  “I want you there.”

  “Then I’m there.”

  One hand lifted, threading through my hair. He guided my mouth back to his, stopping just short of our lips meeting. “You know what?”

  “What?”