by London James
The truck fishtails when I take a curve too sharp, and I almost hit a little Mini Cooper. My truck would have demolished that. I breathe a sigh of relief when I’m finally on the road. I put my hazards on and floor it. I drift in and out between traffic, careful not to run into anyone. When I look at my speedometer, it is saying I’m going eighty-five miles per hour. It still isn’t fast enough. I need to get to her now.
I twist the ring on my finger with my thumb, a habit I’ve formed over the last few days. I don’t know why we are acting like this. We finally have everything we want. There seem to still be unresolved issues, but that isn’t anything that can’t be fixed. And I’ll do whatever it takes to fix it with her because I am in this.
For good.
Forever.
I want her.
The road to her old house is coming up on the right, but there are a few cars ahead of me that won’t get out of my way, so I have to slow down to forty miles an hour. “Come on,” I groan and slap my steering wheel with frustration.
I turn my blinker on and turn down the dirt road. My tires kick up dust and rock as I fly through the potholes and uneven terrain. If something happens to this truck, fine. I can buy another. I can’t buy another Everly, and that house she is going in has been on the verge of collapsing now after a heavy windstorm came through and nearly demolished it, just last year.
It’s actually on my things-to-do list. I wanted to fix it up and renovate it for her, so when she did come home, she can see someone took care of it. But now, she’s going to see what a mess it is.
After driving on the dirt road for about five minutes, her house comes up on the left, but no cars are out there. She must have taken a taxi. I slam on the breaks and put the truck in park. As I look up at the house, memories of my first eighteen years assault me. The classic white paint is chipped off and peeling, the wood is rotted, the deck is gone, the front door is hanging on one hinge, but the one thing that hasn’t changed are those bright green vines that have grown up the side of the house. They scale right underneath her window, just like before.
I walk through the tall grass and test the strength of them out. I grab one, then another and pull. Still as strong as the day I discovered them. A gust of wind blows, rustling the tall grass, but it doesn’t drown out the sobs I hear coming from her bedroom.
I pull myself up along the vines, stepping on them like a rock wall. I hope she is ready because after today, she is never going anywhere again. I don’t care if we sit in front of each other and cry, scream, and yell. Just as long as at the end of it, we kiss, and I get to wrap my arms around her.
That’s when life feels right. I’ve been a stupid man, an impatient man, a too patient man, an unreasonable man, and a scared man. And that is not the kind of man I want to be. I want to be the kind she can sit down with and tell me that she wants to cry.
And I’ll listen to her problems without being a jerk and wipe her tears away. I’m letting go of all the anger because the only thing in the end I want to gain is her.
Chapter Thirty
Everly
I’d forgotten how run down my old childhood home is, but it doesn’t stop me from sneaking in and climbing up the stairs to my old bedroom. I just needed a change of scenery. So I came back to the place that always made me feel a little better.
My room used to be painted a light green color. I had a queen bed that laid on the floor, no bed frame, and I had bead curtains for my closet. Jonas Brothers posters used to litter this wall along with all the other boy bands. Rowan used to give me such a hard time about them, but I loved them, just like every other teenage girl in America.
Now when I look around the room, it looks dead inside. The walls are black, covered in mud and dirt and who knows what. Leaves and twigs are sprinkled along the ground, and I can see the wood that was used to build the walls since they are falling apart. The floors seem strong… dirty, but strong nonetheless.
I sit in the middle of the floor where my bed used to be and think back to all the times I had everything in the world, and I tossed it all away due to fear. I don’t want to be that person anymore. I don’t like that person, and I think that’s where all my uncertainty is coming from. How can I be certain about a lover, a husband, a best friend, when I’m not even sure about myself?
Being back home in Spokane has put things in perspective for me. When I was a kid, I acted like a kid, but now, I still think like that eighteen-year-old girl. And that needs to stop. I need to put on my big girl panties and be a wife, talk to my husband and tell him that we are pregnant, and that I can never get rid of him.
Okay, maybe I’ll rephrase that because I don’t want to come off like a psycho. No matter how much I fluff it up though, that’s what I mean. And that’s just how it is. I bring my hand to my stomach to see if I can feel the baby move yet, which is what I am going to blame my crazy on. I can’t do that, but I feel a little off-put ever since the doctor confirmed elevated levels of hCG in my blood.
Which usually means pregnancy.
I can’t believe there is a baby inside me. I still look normal, so I’m finding it hard to wrap my head around. “You know, I don’t think this will be the case, but if your daddy wants nothing to do with you, I’ll love you. I’ll always love you, but I want you to know that Rowan is a good man, and he will take care of you too. Your father and I have a way of bumping heads, but don’t worry, we will figure it out,” I say to the little bean. “Oh, and if you could try not to crave donuts and have me gain a ton of weight, that would be really fantastic.”
I sigh and rub my belly when it starts to hurt again. “And if you could stop making me sick, that would be great too. I’m not supposed to throw up until later on, but you are just wanting to break records, huh?”
I never believed that I’d be having Rowan’s baby. But here I am, married to him and pregnant, trying to figure out what I want to tell him before it’s too late. That’s another thing. I don’t want it to be too late. I don’t want it to be like before. I want it to be different this time around.
I want to believe in the love I have for him instead of turning away from it. The thought of him leaving or giving up on me when I finally know I need to get my stuff together, causes the baby hormones to make me cry.
Ah, it’s so easy to blame everything on the baby. It’s too soon for that. I need to stop. But it’s just so easy…
I sniffle, wiping my nose on my shirt when I hear something outside of the house. I snap my head up from the ground and look out the broken window. Past and present mix when I see Rowan sneaking in. The past, everything is clean and new in my room, and Rowan is young with no facial hair. Present, everything is demolished and needs a fresh start—like us, and Rowan finally grew a beard.
“What are you doing here?” I ask softly. I want to make sure I don’t come off too harsh.
“Gray told me where to find you. Don’t be mad at him. I might have threatened him with an envelope cutter.” He dusts off his hands on his trousers and comes to sit in front of me on the dirty floor.
“Damn him. He promised,” I mutter, swirling designs into the thick dust layered on the floor.
“Yeah, but he wants us to figure things out. And I want to figure things out too. I want to start by saying, I care about you, and I know you don’t think I do, but I do, Everly. Every day, even when you left me, and I felt shattered. I was broken in ways I never thought possible. You were the only woman I ever loved. It started with you. It has to end with you. Don’t you get that?” he says, twisting his wedding band on his ring finger.
“I’m pregnant,” I blurt out, startling even myself. I blink a few times and shake the shock off me. “I wanted to say that in a different way, but I wanted to get it out there. I wanted to throw it in your direction and see how you felt about it.”
Rowan’s elbows are on his knees, hands dangling, and he just stares at me, unmoving, and not saying a word. I think I broke him. “Rowan?”
“What?” he mana
ges to rasp out as he clears his throat.
“Did you hear me?”
“That you’re pregnant?” he asks. “You said you were pregnant. How do you know already?”
“I was sick, but it was too soon to tell on a home test so I went to the doctor to take a blood test. They found elevated levels of hCG in my blood, which means I’m most likely pregnant. They want to confirm it with an ultrasound in a couple of weeks. Everything is starting to make me queasy. I told you as soon as I found out. I swear, I’ve only known for like, a day. I took a flight out here right after the doctor.”
“You’re pregnant,” he repeats.
“Do you still feel that way now? Do you still want it to end with me?”
He drags himself closer to me and puts one hand on my stomach, while the other hand cups my face. “Of course, I do. I love you until the end of time and space, Everly. I can’t imagine this life with anyone else. We’re a family,” he whispers, placing his forehead against mine. “You’ve just made the happiest man in the world.”
A huge sigh escapes my lips. Relief. Excitement. Happiness. “I promise to be better for you. I’ll always try and be better. I never want to lose you again, Rowan. I love you.”
He takes my mouth in a soft kiss, but there is something else behind it. It isn’t desperation, or desire, or frenzy. It’s acceptance and love. “Let’s get out of here,” he says.
“Oh, where do you want to go?”
“I’ll show you. Just come with me?”
“I’ll go anywhere with you.” I place my hand in his. He picks me up in a wedding style hold and carries me down the steps. My arms are wrapped around his neck, and when he jumps off the floor of the house to the ground, I squeak, holding myself close to his chest.
“Like I’d ever let anything happen to my wife. Come on, now,” he grins.
He opens the truck door and lays me down in the cab of the truck, lifting my dress above my head. All the doors are closed, and he darkens the tint of the windows with a click of a button so no one can see what is going on.
Rowan shucks his shirt off, then his pants, and then his long, thick cock is standing straight toward the roof, waiting to penetrate me. “I haven’t had you in days. It’s been too long.” He climbs over me, just like the time in the cab of his truck when we were eighteen and pushes my legs apart.
He doesn’t say anything else. There is no need. We are married. We are devoted. And he is taking me to the end, but only so a new beginning can start. The cab is crammed—granted a little more roomy than the first truck, but he is bigger now, so when he tries to climb over me, his foot hits the horn, making it go off.
I bark out a laugh, watching him struggle to try and find a way to lay on top of me, but he can’t. He is just too big. I push on his chest and make him sit up and straddle his waist. I keep my hands perched on his shoulders and watch his face as I slide down his cock. His mouth opens wide, and his eyes hood. His chest hair tickles my nipples, causing them to bead instantly.
“Didn’t you tell me you’re on the pill?” he asks suddenly.
I nod, barely holding it together from the pleasure. “I was. But it’s not one hundred percent effective.”
“I guess we should use a condom,” he chuckles, unable to keep a straight face.
“It’s a little late for that now,” I moan when I bring myself up and back down.
His hand lays flat on my stomach, and his thumb rubs back and forth across the plains of the flat surface. “I wouldn’t have it any other way. This is how it is supposed to be. Me, you, and babies. So many babies. We’ll have the most beautiful family.”
I should protest, but all that comes out is a strangled moan because if we have so many kids, it means he is going to be fucking me all the time, coming into my depths. And the thought has me wanting to try and get pregnant all over again.
“I’ll give you whatever you want, Rowan. Just as long as I have you.”
He thrusts up, spearing his cock inside of me from the seated position he is in. I hang on to him, clutching onto him as he takes me to cloud nine.
Epilogue
Rowan
Seventeen years later…
“You are not going on a date with Crowic Anderson, Lila.”
“Why not, dad? I’m sixteen now! I’m going to date eventually,” my teenage daughter argues as my wife sits on the couch, eating popcorn to enjoy the show. The show meaning us. It’s the same argument we have every weekend, ever since she turned sixteen.
“You want to know why? Because his name is Crowic. That should be the number one strike. Two, you’re too young. You aren’t allowed to date until you’re eighteen, we have talked about this. Three, you know what boys want at sixteen? Sex. They want sex, Lila. He is going to use you, and then what if you end up pregnant, and we’re on one of those reality shows? The answer is no. And that is final.”
“Mom! Say something. This isn’t fair. I’m not going to have sex with him!”
“You say that now, sweetie,” Everly says. “Let me talk to your father. Go to your room. I’ll be there in a minute.”
“You aren’t going, young lady,” I use my deep, parental voice. The one that says, ‘do not fuck with me on this’.
Her bottom lip wiggles. Her eyes get wide with tears. She has her mother’s eyes, too. “Don’t you dare pull that on me. I know what you’re doing! This isn’t my first rodeo, Lila.”
But she doesn’t stop. Her eyes well with tears. She has the same dent in her chin as her mom and that starts to tremble. I bury my face in my hands and sigh. Why did I have to have a beautiful daughter? She looks just like her mom.
“If Jaxson was going on a date, you would just let him walk out the door, and that isn’t fair!”
“Honey, your brother is fourteen,” Everly points out, “and that isn’t true. We aren’t going to let your brother date until we agree on a dating age for you.”
“All my other friends are dating. This isn’t fair.”
“You know what else isn’t fair? Me in jail because of some asshole kid name Crowic,” I spit.
“He isn’t an asshole. He is in the marching band, and you’re being mean!” She stomps down the hall, dramatically of course, and slams the door. Awful music blares behind it. It’s her way of giving me the middle finger.
I pinch the bridge of my nose and sigh, plopping down on the couch. “She is going to be the death of me.”
“You’re really hard on her, Rowan. She’s sixteen. All girls want to start dating at that age. She’s a good girl. She’s smart. If you do this, she will pull away, and then just date behind our backs. And then who knows what she will get into. Sex, drugs, prostitution. She will run away from home, and work as a sex slave, trying to pay rent because she has daddy issues.”
I grab the remote from my crazy wife’s hands. “Okay, no more Netflix documentaries for you. Crazy,” I mumble.
“Says the guy who won’t let our daughter go on a date with a kid in the marching band.”
I snort, tossing popcorn in my mouth. “Please, those marching band kids are the ones that push the most. I wasn’t born yesterday. I know what that kid wants. I’ve been sixteen.”
“Oh, I know. I was there. Need I remind you. It was different for us, Rowan. We grew up together, we kind of always dated each other even when we weren’t dating. It was always us. You have to let the strings go, just a little, with Lila. I say she can date, but she has to text us every thirty minutes and be home by ten. And if she’s late, then she can’t see her boyfriend for a week.” Everly tosses a piece of popcorn in her mouth, crunching on the buttery goodness.
I sigh. She’s right. But that’s what I love about Everly. She always knows how to keep me in check.
I guess I’m just not ready to admit that my daughter is growing up. It’s so hard to believe. She’s almost getting to the age that Everly and I were, back before this all began.
“Besides,” Everly purrs, “maybe if she’s gone for a few hours we can get u
p to some trouble.”
Now that sounds like it’s worth it.
“Lila!” I call. I can practically see her eyes roll from my position here on the couch.
“What.” She stomps. “Why won’t you—”
“You can go out with Crowic tonight.”
Her mouth falls open. “R-really?”
“But! Your mother and I have some very strict rules. And if you break any one of these rules you are not leaving the house for a week, do you understand?”
Everly looks over at me, her eyebrows raised, knowing that I made her punishment harsher.
Lila’s eyes light up the same way her mother’s do. “I promise I won’t break the rules!”
“Good, now listen closely. No sex. No drinking. Keep your seatbelt on in the car. And I want you to text us every thirty minutes and be home no later than 10. Do we have a deal?”
Lila practically jumps up and down with joy. “Yes! Thank you, Dad!” She dashes forward and embraces me in a hug. Her honey brown hair—the exact same color of Everly’s shimmers softly. It just melts my heart.
“Don’t thank me, young lady. This was your mother’s idea.”
“Thanks, Mom,” she says, as she reaches down to give her a hug.
Everly kisses Lila on the forehead. “Go get ready. You don’t want to keep him waiting too long.”
Lila grins and dashes up to her bedroom.
“You’re a smart lady,” I grin, taking the bowl of popcorn away from Everly and setting it on the table. “It’s hot.” I settle over her and take her lips in a slow kiss.
Even all these years later, I love her more than I ever thought possible. And I want her more every damn day. If we could have more kids, we would, but Jaxson nearly killed Everly, and she had to have a hysterectomy. I told her I didn’t care if we couldn’t have more kids. She gave me two beautiful children that are perfect, and if we wanted more, we would adopt.