Joshua

by Beatrice Sand

  “In about seven hours from now.”

  This keeps getting better and better. “I’ll take you.”

  “I’m so sorry for doing this to us, Josh,” she says in a low voice, picking up her coat and bag.

  “Me too, you have no idea.” I shouldn’t let her leave, but open the door for her anyway.

  She stops in the doorway and faces me, pressing her lips together. “You want to come with me?”

  “And watch you pack a suitcase?” I ask, still much chagrined. “No, thank you.”

  On a sigh, she stands on tiptoes and kisses me softly. “Happy New Year, Josh. For what it’s worth.”

  The moment I hear the door slam in the stairwell, I wander toward the window and peek outside, watching her cross the street to her own building.

  There she goes...

  The love of my life...

  She’ll be gone by the first ray of light and she doesn’t even know I love her. Am I letting her leave like that?

  “Hell, no!” I curse softly as I stride through the room. I grab my keys and jog down the stairs. She can leave all she wants, but not without knowing the full truth about my feelings for her.

  “Hey,” she says, mouth gaping when I step into her apartment. My gaze momentarily shifts toward the half packed open suitcase.

  “Hey,” I say, focusing back on her. My gaze travels over her body. She’s still wearing the tiny dress, but removed her heels and pantyhose and now ambles around the house with her feet bare. Her nails are painted a flaming reddish color.

  Terrific.

  “What are you do–”

  Call me rude, but I silence her with my mouth. Time’s a wastin. “I forgot to tell you something,” I mumble against her lips.

  “What?”

  “I love you, and I’m sorry about the grapes. I’ll make it up to you next year.” Then I dive right into that sweet mouth that tastes of celestial nectar, and on a throaty moan she stumbles back as I kiss the ever-loving shit out of her like a man possessed. She crashes her back against the wall and I mash my body against hers, unstoppable now.

  Too far gone.

  When my hands find the bare skin of her thighs, I lift the hem of her dress over her hips, revealing panties as tiny as her dress. She’s perfect. In and outside. The way she moves, talks, and the fucking way she smiles at me.

  When she starts undoing my belt, pulls the zipper of my pants down, and impatiently takes out my throbbing erection, a dark groan rises up from my throat. I pull her panties down and lift her up, then slide her soft dripping flesh over my rock-hard cock, and forget about our obligations and responsibilities threatening to keep us apart.

  It’s just me and her.

  Me inside her.

  Nothing else matters.

  “I love you too, Josh,” she rasps into my ear.

  “Shit,” I grumble as I feel an electric shock rippling up my spine, trying hard to remember where she keeps those damn rubbers. I wanna come in her, not on her.

  “Don’t!” she says with a cry in her voice as I start pulling out.

  “I can’t hold back any longer, baby,” I pant. “I’m sorry.”

  “Just don’t,” she repeats softly, her voice raw.

  I pull back my face and search her eyes, trying to gauge her intention. “Jesus,” I utter when I see they’re full of lust. “Keep looking into my eyes and think very hard, because I’m two seconds away from coming inside of you.”

  “Do we need a condom, Tess?” I ask when she keeps quiet.

  “No,” she whispers.

  “God, you’re fucking breaking me apart,” I say, my emotions all over the goddamn place. I thrust in and out of her, holding back as long as possible, and then, when I notice her legs begin to shake, send us both off that ledge with a few hard, deep penetrations as we keep watching each other closely.

  “Do what you have to do, go wherever you need to go, but whatever you do, you better not forget me,” I pant. “You still with me, Tess? You better fucking remember me when that plane touches down in Spain!”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  teresa

  Palma de Mallorca...

  Exhausted from the intercontinental journey and three connecting flights, I pick up my rental car and drive away from the airport. In another hour, I’ll probably collapse in bed, but this island is worthy of travels, even during winter. The weather is still soft, it almost never freezes, and the tourist crowds are gone.

  I pull down the window to feel the gentle breeze on my face, and enjoy the scenic drive as I continue my journey maneuvering my way down narrow and winding roads. The landscape of windmills, old farmhouses, and dry-stone walls never ceases to charm me, and always make me feel as though I’ve come home, and finally able to breathe again, as life progresses in a slower rhythm in the rural parts. Mallorca will always be my go-to island when I need to escape the rush from everyday life, it’s my calm in the storm, but my heart lies in America.

  With Josh.

  The last time I rode a rollercoaster of emotions was when I learned my parents died, and Felipe was critically wounded. Nothing compares to that tragedy, but I did find myself in emotional distress when I thought I could very well be losing Josh after my decision to return to Spain. Neither he nor I have an idea how we’ll make it work, but thankfully we’re far from over.

  I love how he responded when I told him I was leaving. Yes, he was shocked and wondered where that left us, but he also knows how important my little brother is to me, just as his twin-sister is to him. He would never make me choose between them like Xavi did, but that doesn’t mean he’s giving me up – like Xavi did.

  You better fucking remember me when that plane touches down in Spain...

  Smiling, I steer my Mini Cooper diagonally across the roundabout toward Campos. “Don’t you worry about that, cariño!”

  How could I not remember him when I still feel his warmth and presence between my thighs? How could I not when I keep thinking of him moving inside me with long, deep strokes. And then that wet, sinful mouth plundering mine over and over again one would think I left permanently. Madre mia, but he was HOT.

  And I’m his.

  He’s mine.

  God, I hope we’ll last. Our relationship has intensified, and although I know there’s so much more to discover about him, it feels as if I’ve known him for years, but the truth is we’ve known each other for only a few weeks.

  Beads of sweat form on my forehead when I think of the possibility I could very well be pregnant. What was I thinking when I told him he didn’t need a condom? Was that my way of claiming him? Was I, unconsciously, hoping to get pregnant with his child, so we are bounded for life? Could I be that irresponsible, or selfish for that matter?

  And what was he thinking when he humored me by planting his seed inside me? Because even in the heat of it all, he forced me to think of what I was asking of him. We both knew the potential consequences of our actions and, like me, he didn’t care. I wonder if it’s too soon to tell whether I’m indeed pregnant?

  Suddenly worried and feeling insecure, I inhale a long deep breath, wishing I knew what’s going on in Josh’s head, now that we’re an ocean apart. Does he regret our night of binge-fucking without protection? Because that was what it was, there’s no way of dressing it up. Josh fucked me all over the place; pinned against the door, sitting on the couch, in the shower... hardly allowing me time to pack my suitcase. Yet, we ended up making sweet love in my bed, and again without protection. Neither one of us brought it up on the way to the airport. In fact, come to think of it, we didn’t talk at all. Silence replaced the dirty words and pillow talk.

  Fifty minutes later, I pull off the road into a bending driveway overhung by fig trees, leading to my family’s superbly traditional finca set around an outdoor swimming pool. I didn’t let anyone know I was coming, so Felipe is in for a big surprise in a few moments. But not before texting Josh.

  Fucking remembering you.

  I add a heart
, and then walk up to the main house in the late afternoon sun, where a crowd of family members and two laid-back greyhounds greet me. A cork pops as we all exchange kisses and best wishes for the New Year. One of my older cousins presses a glass of sparkling wine in my hand, and, as much as I need it, only for form’s sake I sip the lovely ice-cold Cava, and then set the glass on the coffee table.

  Just in case.

  Shit, but I need a pregnancy test.

  “How long will you be staying?” Felipe asks as I try to calculate my next period.

  “Well, in theory, five weeks, but I’ll stay until you’re settled.”

  His mouth drops. “Are you saying you’re letting me stay?”

  I flash him a smile. “If you’re happier here, then yes, I’ll let you stay.”

  “Really? Wow, thanks, Tess. You won’t regret it. I’ll get my high school diploma and then I’ll come home again for college.”

  “I’d love that, but for now I just want you happy, and if that’s in Spain, so be it. We should have stayed in the first place until you finished school.”

  He shrugs. “It’s not that I was unhappy in Portsmouth, but it’s just not the same without Mom and Dad, you know? I liked our house where we lived with them.”

  “I know, and I understand. If you promise me to get through high school without smoking another joint or skipping classes, you’ll make me a very happy sister.”

  Felipe laughs sheepishly while raking his hand through his thick black hair. He looks awesome, and the marks of weariness under his eyes have miraculously disappeared. “Don’t worry,” he says. “Uncle Martín already warned me. I gave him my word.”

  “Good. And I’ll be here to make sure you keep it.”

  “What?”

  “I’m moving to Spain too.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you’re my brother, and after Mom and Dad died, I promised them I’d take care of you until you’re old enough to take care of yourself. This is non-negotiable, Felipe. If you go, I’ll go. It won’t be like that always, but you’re stuck with me at least until you turn eighteen.”

  “What about the restaurant?”

  I shrug. “I’ll find a job in a bakery somewhere, or go to culinary school. Emma continues the workshops.”

  “And Josh?”

  When I don’t answer, he looks at me with a perplexed expression in his sincere gray-blue eyes. “You broke up with him?”

  “It’s...complicated.”

  “I like him, Tess. He’s a good guy.”

  “Yeah, he is,” I say, rubbing his back. “We’ll see how it goes. Let’s get you settled first, okay?”

  That night, before my head touches the pillow, I glance at my phone and notice a message from Josh. My fingers tremble as I open it.

  Ditto!

  I smile at his short but sweet answer, so typical Josh. I can almost hear him say it. But it’s the emoticon at the end moving me to tears. Like me, he closed with a red heart.

  Only his is broken.

  “I’m sorry, baby,” I whisper in the dark.

  ***

  The weeks fly by as I meet with old friends, stroll through the medieval streets of Palma, and organizing everything for Felipe’s stay abroad, which, fortunately, isn’t all that hard since he has a dual nationality by descendant and family to stay with. That will change on his eighteenth birthday when he’ll need to make a choice, but we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. For me it’s a little harder, but I’m allowed to stay for three months without a visa, so that’s what I’ll be doing first before I take the big plunge of moving back altogether. I’ll take this situation step by step, but for now my job here is done.

  I open my laptop and log into the airline’s website to retrieve my booking and change to another available flight as soon as possible. A week earlier than planned. When I’m done, I leave my bedroom located in one of the other buildings, and walk to the main house where I find my aunt and uncle in the living room.

  “Hey, Tess!” my aunt calls out from the kitchen. “I was just going to get you. I made snacks. Don’t know where the guys are, though.”

  “They went to the beach to play soccer with friends,” my uncle says from behind his Diario de Mallorca.

  Aunt Pilar places a serving tray filled with mouthwatering goodies on the coffee table. “Ah, we’ll leave some for them then.”

  The wonderful smell of prawns in fried garlic hits my nostrils immediately. “That looks very tasty, Aunt Pilar.”

  “Dig in.”

  I grab a plate and put a meatball in garlic tomato sauce on it, then add a few prawns. No one makes tapas like Aunt Pilar.

  “We’re so delighted Felipe is doing great at school,” she says. “I know it’s hard for you, but Martín and I really think you made the right choice.”

  “Yeah, I couldn’t be prouder of him. I was afraid of the language barrier, but it doesn’t seem to be a problem.”

  “He’s quick on the uptake and has a sharp mind, like your father,” Uncle Martín chimes in. “And it’s a joy to watch him fool around with his cousins.”

  I nod, swallowing. Tears well up in my eyes when I think of how happy and free-spirited he is, but that doesn’t automatically mean I’m happy too. Truthfully, a part of me feels miserable.

  “I, uh...” I put away the plate. “I don’t know if Felipe told you, but I met someone in Portsmouth.”

  Aunt Pilar raises a quizzical eyebrow. “He mentioned something about a chef, and that you were spending Christmas with him and his family, but unfortunately I couldn’t squeeze more out of him. Tell me about him.”

  “Yes, he’s a chef and owns his own restaurant. It’s called Suite 63, and it’s located across my own restaurant.”

  “How convenient,” she answers dryly as she reaches for a slice of Mahón cheese. “What does he look like?”

  “Bueno, time to get a drink,” Uncle Martín mumbles while carefully folding his newspaper.

  “Well, he’s quite tall, I have to look up to him, then again, I have to look up to everyone, except little children,” I joke. “Anyway, he’s–” I pause for a moment until my uncle is out of earshot. “He’s one of the hottest redhead men I ever laid eyes on,” I whisper. “His hair is curly, very unruly, and longish.” I point to my chin to indicate the length. “And bright green eyes.”

  “Ooh, I bet you make a gorgeous couple. Do you have a picture?”

  “No, but there was a picture of us in the local newspaper. I’ll try to look it up for you online. His family owns the Vandenberg hotel chain, so I’m afraid paparazzi are lying in wait in the rhododendrons to catch a glimpse of him and his new love interest,” I say soberly.

  “That must be tough.”

  I shrug. “It makes no difference.”

  Aunt Pilar nods wisely. “You love him.”

  I nod back. “Josh, that’s his name, is a great man, Aunt Pilar. And the best part is, he genuinely likes Felipe.”

  “Of course he does, why wouldn’t he? He’s a great kid.”

  She must have blocked out Xavi. “He even sat down with Felipe to talk sense into him when he busted him with marijuana, can you believe it? He’s a Michelin star chef, and he takes time to talk to my little brother.”

  “I’m loving him already. When can we meet him?”

  I exhale a sigh. “To be honest, I don’t know where we stand right now. And... and I miss him like crazy. It’s why I changed my ticket. As much as I want to be with Felipe, I also want to be with him. We just decided to go for it when Uncle Martín called to tell me about Felipe.”

  “I’m sorry, sweetie. Your uncle’s timing always sucks. It’s a flaw in an otherwise perfect man.”

  I chuckle at her comment. Maybe there’s no such thing as a perfect marriage, but I’m pretty sure Aunt Pilar and Uncle Martín have found the right recipe, the right mix between arguing and loving, to make it work. They respect each other and they’re definitely an example for me.

  If I would marry.
>
  Uncle Martín enters the room carrying a bottle of red wine. “Did I just hear you say he’s from the illustrious Vandenberg Clan?”

  “Yes, he is. His cousins manage the hotels. Josh went another way, but he’s very close to his family. I met them at Christmas, and they’re lovely people.”

  “That’s nice. Remember we stayed in one of their hotels in Boston when we visited the country, Pilar?”

  “I certainly do. Their breakfast buffet was pure delight.” Aunt Pilar focuses back on me. “Listen, Tess. If you love him, you should be with him. Felipe’s in a happy place, and as much as we like having you here, you have to think about your own well-being as well. And if that’s in America, then there’s where you should be.”

  “You’re right. I had a lot of time to think these last weeks, and with Felipe doing so great, I might travel back and forth instead of moving back here. I need to talk to Josh, see what he thinks, and whether we can make it work like that.”

  “You and Felipe can always count on us, Tess, whatever you decide. We’re here to help.”

  Tears well up in my eyes. I’m so emotional all the freaking time.

  Aunt Pilar gets up and hugs me. “Thank you,” I say, hugging her back firmly. God, I need them in my life.

  “Go and get your guy,” she says softly. “He must be miserable too.”

  ***

  I stride across the airport with a café con leche in one hand, dragging my trolley suitcase behind me with the other. It’s already my second coffee after checking in my other luggage, which is strange, because normally one large coffee in the morning is enough, but for some reason I’m craving the caffeine. Well, it’s probably for the best, because I need something to battle my fatigue since I can’t afford to fall asleep on the plane when I need to catch a connecting flight in Madrid.

  I sit down on one of the few empty seats at the gate and gaze at my watch. Thirty minutes before boarding. To kill the time, I grab a copy of Cosmopolitan I just purchased from the bookstore from my bag, and begin reading when the baby of the couple sitting next to me starts crying. The man, which I assume is the father, picks the baby girl out of the maxi Cosi, and I melt into a puddle when he tries to soothe his daughter by gently rocking her and kissing her head.