by L. B. Dunbar
“Is this why you’re planning to move to Lakeside? Are you coming to see him?” Has my brother paid him visits before?
“I think we should discuss this another time when you can act like a rational adult.”
I snort. This, coming from the man who still acts like a college guy, going to bars on the regular and hooking up with rich women in hopes of I don’t know what. “Yeah, I gotta go.”
“Zack, don’t be like this,” Noah pleads, his voice a whine, restoring him to the brother I know.
Don’t listen to them, Zack. Suck it up, Zack. It’s only a little longer, and then you’re out of there, Zack.
Easy words for the teen who left shortly after everything blew up. He wasn’t the one left behind to face it all alone with a heart-sick mother and nowhere to call home.
“I’ll call you later,” I mutter, acting petulant in my own right as I disconnect the line.
+ + +
By the time I’d made the three-hour trip back to Lakeside, it’s dark outside. My boys are with our new nanny, and I hated to leave them behind already, but this visit needed to be done alone. I needed to see River for myself. Logan said he hadn’t found River at home, which made my heart rate race even harder. I didn’t really believe Robert would physically harm River. I just didn’t want him anywhere near her.
Dammit, I shouldn’t have left her alone. I shouldn’t have left her at all. Barreling across the state, I felt an unsettling sensation ripple over my skin, and I thought about a lot of things. Number one being how I didn’t want to live without River in my life.
Once I reach her front door, I hammer at the wood. Growing frustrated with the lack of response, I help myself to round her house and enter the backyard. I hardly note the missing fence that once lined her property. It wouldn’t have kept me out anyway.
I find River sitting in her chaise lounge. Only . . . another body sits beside her.
“Zack?” Anna questions, noticing me first. River twists beside Anna to look at me over her shoulder. Slowly, Anna rises, says something to River, and crosses the lawn to me. “Don’t be stupid.” The warning surprises me as she pats my chest over my heart. I lean forward to kiss her cheek, and then Anna leaves the yard, easily walking through the space between the trees behind her garage.
“I see you’ve kept your clothes on,” I tease, finding my voice rough as River rises next from the lounger.
“Don’t have a fence to protect my privacy.” The previous barrier was transparent, but in all honesty, the way I saw River was looking over the shrubbery from the second-floor next door. Now that room is vacant and dark.
“I don’t want any boundaries between us anyway,” I admit, and I’m not referring to a damn fence. River steps closer to me but not close enough.
“Then you’ll need to let me in.” She doesn’t stop at that, though. She passes me, crosses her small patio, and enters her home, leaving the sliding glass door open.
The only way to mend this broken fence is to step inside.
28
[River]
I walked into the house, leaving the door open for Zack to follow. It’s only a house, I want to say, but it’s so much more to him. The child inside him feels abandoned by the rugged man who’d stood in my yard this afternoon, and watched a fence be torn out. While his face was hard, his expression was kind, resolved even to the damage he’d done. I wasn’t afraid of his presence or even demanding he leave. I let him stand there, watching the men work. He didn’t say much. He didn’t ask about the house or Zack or the boys. He just watched. I allowed him his memories, even if Zack said he shouldn’t have them.
In the kitchen, I round the peninsula cabinet and set the wineglasses from Anna’s visit within the basin. Turning to the side, I watch Zack walk inside, slide the glass door behind him, and lock it. Then he pauses and looks around. The cabinets are dated. They might have been the original set from his childhood. Hardwood floors throughout the place show wear and tear from the years this home was a rental property. I personally tossed most of the rugs when I inherited the place. The kitchen dining set is definitely old, bulky, and too large for the space.
Zack doesn’t linger long in his inspection. His eyes quickly find me, and he lasers in on my position. Rounding the cabinets himself, he stands before me. With his gaze focused on me, he slowly folds to his knees before me and wraps his arms around my waist. His head meets my belly, and he squeezes me tight.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for what I said, for what I did.”
Hesitating only a second, I seek his hair and tenderly comb through the strands.
“You hurt me,” I admit.
“I know. I don’t know what came over me. I’d seen my dad. Then I heard those women, and I just reacted. You aren’t my father. You aren’t Jeanine. You aren’t like any other woman I’ve known.”
“Jeanine?” I question.
“She was all about the buck, the bottom line, and wanting more.” His voice quiets. “She was so much like my father, and I didn’t see it because she was smart and successful in her own right.”
I continue stroking through his hair, waiting on more from him.
“I overreacted.”
Scoffing at the comment, he tilts his head and gazes up at me.
“Zack, you have no boundaries.” I’ve used the word too many times to describe his actions. He doesn’t hold back, taking what he wants, going where he pleases. If he isn’t careful with this trait, he could cross a line.
“I’d like to learn. I’d like to . . . compromise.”
My lip curls only a touch in the corner. “What does that even mean to you?”
“Don’t leave me. I don’t want to lose you.” That vulnerable tone returns, and it’d break my heart if I wasn’t already a little broken by him.
Sighing, I stare down at him. “You’d have to trust me, and I don’t think you do.”
“I don’t trust myself.” He takes a deep breath. “I’m afraid to love because people get hurt. People do stupid things to prove themselves.”
“Zack,” I whisper, accepting that he must see his mother as loving his father too much and his father trying to please her, justifying his choice to gamble.
“I’m so grateful for how you are with the boys and how good we are together.” He takes a deep breath as if he’s about to dive into the lake. “Ben’s letter to me told me to fly in love, and I didn’t know what he meant. I thought he must have miswritten his intention, but now I understand. When I’m with you, I’m soaring. It’s a high I’ve never felt before. It’s freeing and scary, but, River, I love it. I love you, angel.”
I don’t know what to say. My heart still aches, but sincerity rings through his apology confirmed by those pleading silvery eyes.
“Where are the boys?” I wonder.
“I left them with the new nanny. I wanted to bring them, but it was too soon. My decision was so quick.” He pauses a beat. “My father was here.”
The heaviness in the statement says it all. The concern in his eyes says even more as he clings to me on his knees. I continue stroking through his hair.
“He didn’t mean any harm. It was all innocent,” I say, instantly realizing my mistake in word choice.
“He wasn’t innocent of anything,” Zack snaps, slowly releasing me and rising to his feet but still crowding my space.
“Poor choice of words. I mean, he didn’t do anything. He didn’t really say anything either. He just stood there, watching the men work, watching them remove the fence.”
Zack swipes a hand through his hair, eyes shifting to the side. “He shouldn’t have been here. He shouldn’t have even been breathing the same air as you.”
“And what? Now you want to build an eight-foot fence around the place or place a bubble around me?” I exhale. I can’t even address the fence issue yet. “Zack, you need to forgive him.”
“Never,” he hisses in that toughened voice he used upon our first meeting.
“Do you remember me
telling you that love and gratitude are not the same thing?” Zack’s eyes meet mine. “Maybe you can’t love him again. Maybe it’s not an option, as you say, because you don’t know him, but you need to come to terms with having him at one point in your life. You need to be grateful for the father you had when you had him.”
“He took everything away.”
“He did.” I sigh again. “But now it’s time to forgive him. Forgiveness isn’t for the faint at heart; only the weak can’t forgive.” The world according to Grandfather number two point three seven nine.
“I don’t think I can.” His voice lowers, as does his head.
“You’ll be a better father if you do,” I whisper, knowing that doesn’t explain it well enough, but Zack needs to let go of his anger at his own father to open himself up better to his boys.
“I don’t know how,” he states, even lower. His lips twist, and if I didn’t know he was forty-one, I’d guess him to be all of seventeen with his hesitant, strained expression.
“Maybe just talk to him. Or better yet, listen.” My grandfather would say talk is cheap, but listening doesn’t cost anything. However, I hold back that Grandpa-ism. Comparing something to money might not be appropriate for Zack’s situation.
“Quincy wanted to make amends with his children as he lay dying. His children didn’t. They have to live with the loss of him all over again. They’ll never have answers because they couldn’t listen to him.” I sigh, thinking this comparison isn’t getting through to Zack any better. I don’t want him to regret never hearing his father’s side of the story. I don’t want him to be bitter like Daniel Quincy.
Zack closes his eyes for a second. “Can we not talk about my dad right now?” His exhale warns me that he has a lot going on in that head of his, and he can only tackle one issue at a time.
I have my own questions.
“What are you doing here?” I ask, wondering why he left his boys, drove across the state, and stands before me this late at night.
“I had things on my mind.”
“Like what?” I whisper.
He licks his lower lip and bites the corner. “Why did you do it, stubborn woman? Why did you pay for the fence removal?”
“I don’t need you to pay for things. You don’t owe me. You aren’t indebted to me. Not apologies, not gratitude, nor any other thing you’ve worked up in your head.”
“I just want to take care of you.” His face shifts, his expression confused.
“Then take care of me.” I point at my chest, and Zack’s eyes follow the motion. “I don’t need your money. I only want you.”
His fingers reach for my jaw, and his mouth lowers, brushing over mine as they did during our first kiss. He’s holding back again.
“Don’t be afraid to ask for what you want,” I whisper against his mouth after another swipe-of-a-kiss I hope to never receive again. This isn’t my Zack. This isn’t how we kiss. As much as he needs to learn about respecting boundaries, he also needs to learn it’s okay to want things. All he needs to do is ask for them. Hell, even take it in this situation. Take the kiss.
He reads my thoughts, and his mouth crashes to mine. Teeth and tongue. Lips and licks. We meld together in apology, forgiveness, and desire. His hands drop to my hips, and he lifts me to the countertop. My knees spread, and he steps into the space, pressing us together while our mouths continue to speak for us. His hands return to my jaw, and mine wrap around his head. For a moment, it feels like there’s no beginning or end between us. We are one, and this is love. A circle that goes round and round, in dips and lifts, spinning, spinning, spinning.
He called it flying instead of falling, and I love the difference. Flying feels freeing while falling sounds fearful. I’m not afraid to love him.
“Let’s go upstairs,” I say, needing our circle more complete. Our connection to be deeper.
Zack helps me down from the counter, and I lead the way. If he wants to inspect the house, investigate as we go, he doesn’t. His gaze is on me as I cross the family room and head up the staircase. Down the hall, we go to the last door. I pause outside the room, knowing this was once Zack’s parents’ space.
“Will you be okay going in there?”
“I’ll be okay, as long as anywhere we go, you’re by my side. I’ve already lived too long without you, and I don’t want another day to pass without us together.”
“You’re getting better at this compromise thing,” I tease.
“I’m better because of you.”
At his words, I leap upward, and he catches me under my thighs. Wrapping my legs around his waist, he steps forward, and I turn the knob at my back. We enter the room with Zack’s mouth on mine. He stumbles. He trips, and then we’re both floating down to the bed. I bounce on the mattress and giggle while Zack catches himself over me.
“Please let me in,” he whispers, moving his hand to my shorts and unsnapping the button. Assisting him, I unzip them and push them over my hips. Zack stands back and removes them, admiring my skimpy panties and the tank top I’m wearing.
“You’re so beautiful, angel,” he says, reaching behind his head for the collar of his shirt and tugging it over his head. It’s another dress shirt unbuttoned a few buttons at the collar. This one is crisp and white, and more business attire than his other ones. He’s also wearing suit pants and dress shoes.
“Did you come here from your office?” I question.
“I didn’t stop until I was here.”
“Zack,” I whisper, reaching for his belt. He kicks off his shoes as I work at his pants. Then he’s shoving them down and removing his socks. Pressing me back, he kneels on the bed and balances over me again.
“I need to be inside you, but I understand if you want to go slow. I understand if you want to back up a bit, and I’ll understand if you only want me to hold you. Just don’t ask me to leave.”
My fingers hook into the waistband of his boxer briefs.
“I need you inside me,” I say to his lips before they crash over mine, taking me with more urgency and passion than I thought possible. Breaking free, his hands roam my body, over my shoulders, and down my arms to my wrists. He retraces his path before jumping to the hem of my tank top and removing it. Quickly, my bra follows, and Zack lowers for a breast. His teeth scrape the soft flesh before he nips at the peaked nub. Then his tongue swirls, and he opens to latch on to me. His pace is leisurely, dragging out the suction and forcing my back to arch.
Need builds quickly, and I awkwardly push at the edge of his briefs.
“Want something, angel?” he teases before moving to the other aching swell. My thighs are spread, and his abs rest against my core. I buck my hips, seeking friction against him.
“I want you.” Zack bites my nipple, and I squeak. He soothes the sting by sucking at the tip. With open-mouth kisses, he moves down my body, taking his time to reach my center. He blows over the cotton strip covering where I want him most, and then he removes my underwear. His eyes devour my body as he admires what he’s already seen before. Only this time, the lights are on. We aren’t under the dark sky but in the dim light of my bedroom. A small lamp illuminates the space, and Zack’s eyes worship all he sees.
“My God, you’re sunshine,” he says, glancing at my hair before scanning my body once more. Then he dips his head and laps at folds seeping with need. My hips surge in reaction to the sudden warmth of his tongue. He takes me to the brink like only he can, licking and kissing like the unquenchably thirsty man he is. Eventually, I break, spilling open over his mouth, and even then, he’s still drinking me in.
I whimper his name because I need him closer. My fingers tug at his ears to remove him, and I crunch upward.
“Inside me,” I murmur. Zack sits back. “Condoms in the drawer.” I nod to the nightstand, and Zack freezes. His eyes widen. “They’re for you. Only you.”
“Damn straight,” he hisses, reaching over for the nightstand and hastily working the drawer. I hear rustling, and the box fumb
le. A packet is produced, opened, and Zack covered. “I’m wearing this tonight, but soon we’re going to talk about going without this barrier. I want to give you that someday, River. The one where you wanted babies and more.”
He can’t mean it. We’ve jumped from a ten-day fling to I love you to children in a matter of a few weeks. My head is spinning until his tip rests at my entrance. Then he’s slowly filling me, and all thoughts dissipate. There is only him and me. Zack slides to the hilt, taking his time as he did that night on the lounger. He made love to me under the stars, even if he didn’t intend to do such a thing. It was romantic and sweet, and one of many moments when I felt the flying sensation of love he mentions.
“I’m soaring for you,” I say as he pulls back to the edge of my channel, teasing me with retreat before surging forward to fill me once more.
“Soaring?” he questions as he balances over me, watching himself disappear into my body.
“Gliding. Flying. Getting higher.”
His gaze moves to my face. “What are you saying, angel?”
“I love you, too.”
Zack stills, watching my eyes before lowering to kiss me. With his thickness buried inside me, he delves into my mouth with his tongue. “Say it again,” he mutters as his lips remain over mine.
“I love you.”
Zack pulls back as if he doesn’t believe me at first. As if he isn’t certain he heard me correctly or understands what I’ve said. Then his expression shifts, and those white teeth show. His mouth curls wide. He bites his lower lip, giving me a knowing smirk. Dazzling. The happiness written on his face is truly breathtaking.
“I love you, too. I love you so much.” His mouth returns to mine until his hips need to move. He pulls back, pressing inward once more before moving at a faster pace, thrusting with more determination. He wants to mark me inside and outside, but there’s no rush. He’s already staked his territory. I am his. He is mine. There are no barriers between us. We are a circle, on repeat, of love, and love, and love.