by Lisa De Jong
Mallory comes up behind me. “Hey, I’m Mallory. It’s nice to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you, too. I’ve had the female version of Blake on my mind, and you’re not it.” Mallory is naturally thin with long brown hair; she looks like an angel compared to her brother.
“I’ll take that as a compliment.” She smiles. “Let me take the bottle from you. I’m guessing this is for her,” she says nodding in my direction, “because I have the real stuff for us.”
“You’re darn right.”
Another knock sounds on the door. Reece.
“I haven’t seen you in forever,” I tease when I open the door.
“Eight hours does seem like forever.” She sticks out her lower lip.
“Awe, but you have the Big Bang to keep you company.”
She wags her eyebrows. “Maybe I’ll find out if he lives up to that nickname tonight.”
“Reece.”
“What?” She throws her arms up. “I’ve been reading a lot lately, and I have an itch that needs to be scratched, or I’m going to go crazy.”
Dana and Mallory both laugh. Reece’s face burns red. “Reece, I want you to meet Mallory.”
Reece raises her hand slowly to take Mallory’s. She has the I-want-to-get-the-fuck-out-of-here-look on her face. “If it makes you feel better, it’s been forever for me, too. My electric boyfriend is getting a little tired of me,” Mallory admits in an attempt to ease Reece’s embarrassment.
“Sounds like Lila is the only one getting any around here,” Dana chirps in.
They all start laughing, but I don’t really find it funny. Their shoes would be easier to fill—no broken hearts.
We continue small talk as Mallory brings a plate of cupcakes and glasses of wine to the table. I wonder what Blake is doing, but then I hear the shower running.
“So,” Dana says, “why did you call this meeting, Lila? We know the big news, but there has to be something else. It’s too early for a baby shower.”
Taking a deep, cleansing breath, I start, “Blake is moving back to Nebraska with me tomorrow. I didn’t realize how much I missed it until last week, and Blake fell in love with it. We both agreed it would be the best place to start our family.”
“But I just got home,” Mallory pouts.
“I know,” I say, pouting right along with her. “I don’t want to leave any of you. I’ve never had friends who are more loyal … who are there when I need them like you all are. You could always move to Nebraska.”
All three quickly say no.
“I’ll come visit, especially after that little baby is born,” Reece says, sipping on her wine.
“This baby is going to have three of the best aunts ever,” I add. I never had any sisters, but now I feel like I have three.
Blake comes out of the bedroom in gray workout shorts and a white tank, his hair still wet from the shower. Every time I look at the man, the other crazy pregnancy symptom creeps up. Maybe he’ll take another shower with me later, I think to myself.
“Blake, you’re going to hate Nebraska,” Mallory says as soon as she sees him.
“Why do you say that?”
She throws her arms up. “It’s nothing but cornfields and grass and people in overalls. What is there to like?”
He looks into my eyes. “The company. The quiet. It’s exactly where I want to raise a baby. Lots of babies.”
Reece rests her head on her hand. “Swoon.”
“Don’t egg him on,” Mallory snaps.
“I’d go to Nebraska with him,” Dana whispers into my ear.
Blake pulls me up from the chair, sitting down on it then setting me on his lap. “You guys are invited for the holidays, and we’ll come back here when we can.”
He pulls me against his chest, kissing my shoulder. No one can argue with what we have.
“Where are you guys staying?” Mallory asks, crossing her arms over her chest.
“I rented an apartment for now,” Blake replies. “I’m hoping we can fix up Lila’s grandparents’ old farm before the baby comes.”
“Farm?” Dana’s eyes double in size.
“You’d love it, Dana. There’s a creek that runs along the back.”
We spend another hour talking about Nebraska and even getting suggestions on what we should name our baby. With every one, Blake whispers no behind me; at least we won’t take any of their favorite baby names, should any of them have children.
Reece leaves first, followed by Dana. I’m not going to lie, tears flowed with each one. There won’t be any more stops into Charlie’s on the way home from work or quick morning chats or lunches with Reece. Those are the things I’m going to miss most.
When they’re gone, Mallory stands up and announces she’s ready for bed having flown the night before. I hug her, too, knowing we’ll probably be gone before she gets up in the morning.
“I just got you back,” I whisper in her ear. “Sorry I’m leaving so soon.”
“It’ll be okay,” she says. “I’ll be out there in less than a month. I guarantee it.”
“Love you,” I say before letting her go.
“Love you, too.”
We’ve been crossing paths like this since college. This is nothing new. We move apart, but we always find our way back to each other.
Blake wraps his arms over my shoulders as soon as she’s gone. “You look tired.”
“I am. It’s been a long day.”
“Let’s get you to bed. I’ll wake you up at six, and you can sleep in the car.”
“I need a shower before bed then.” I bite my lower lip, hoping he takes the bait.
“Maybe you need some help washing a few spots,” he offers, kissing the spot below my ear.
“That would be nice.”
And he does. For the last time, we make love in this apartment. It’s just another fitting goodbye.
“HEY, BABY, WE’RE HERE,” Blake announces quietly, shaking my arm. This trip went much like the last, and I finally drifted off after filling my stomach with truck stop pancakes.
I rub my eyes, sneaking a glance out the window. Instead of seeing houses or the small shops that line our small town, I see my grandpa’s old farmhouse. “What are we doing here?”
“This is our home, baby. You said you wanted to live here so I made it happen.”
“But it needs to be cleaned and fixed up. No one has lived in it for a few years. We can’t stay here, Blake.”
He covers my lips with his index finger. “I talked to your dad before we left. A cleaning company came out yesterday and got it all ready, and he moved some of the old furnishings out. We still need to renovate, but I thought we could make it ours together.”
I freaking hate how easily I cry these days. It’s nice to have someone who listens to me—who makes my dreams come true when I least expect it.
“I love you,” I say, kissing his finger.
“I love you more,” he answers back, running his finger along my lower lip.
I hop out, practically running for the front door.
“Lila!” he yells. “Wait, I need to show you something!”
For once I listen, standing on the front porch waiting for him to catch up with what looks like a picnic basket. “What’s in there?”
He flashes his cocky smile. “You’ll see. Can you wait out here for two minutes, or do I have to tie you down?”
“Don’t tempt me with a good time,” I tease.
“I swear to God your sex drive is going to kill me if it doesn’t slow down. I didn’t think that was possible.”
“Challenge accepted.”
I sit on the old porch swing while I wait for him. I imagine him setting up a blanket so we can have our first meal together here. Or maybe he’s drawing me a bath after the long ride.
The wondering stops when he comes through the door. “Come here,” he instructs, holding his hand out to me.
I walk quickly, listening to the old boards creak under my feet. The place smells like
lemons as we step inside and looks as clean as grandma used to keep it—shiny hardwood floors, gorgeous woodwork and an array of outdated wallpapers.
He squeezes my hand, leading me to the kitchen. “There are so many things I didn’t do right since I met you, and I can’t go back and change them, but I want to do what was right all over again. I want a second chance to make everything right.”
His fingers find the bottom of my sundress slowly lifting it up over my thighs. His fingertips brush my bare stomach then my breasts. “Arms up, Lemon Drop.”
I do as he asks, shifting my feet in anticipation. He unfastens my bra then slides my panties down so I can easily step out of them. Before I know it, he has me sitting on the counter as his warm mouth explores my body.
Reaching between us, I work the button on his pants. It hasn’t even been twenty-four hours, but it feels like forever.
“Hey,” he groans, gripping my wrist. “There’s no rush, Lemon Drop.”
My thoughts flash back to the night he had me on the counter, teasing me while explaining the nickname he’d given me.
He talks between kisses. “The first moment I’d want to do again is Truth. That’s when I started seeing you differently. Ask me something, baby, and I’ll answer it. Anything.”
Caught off guard, I think about it. He’s told me so much over the last week that there’s not much left to know. “Are you happy, or are you just working toward it?”
He stops what he’s doing, tipping my chin up to look in his eyes. “If you don’t have an answer to that after tonight, then you can ask again.”
“My turn,” he says, kissing down my stomach. “What was the first thing that went through your head when you found out you were pregnant? Be honest.”
“I just hoped you wouldn’t leave me.”
“Oh, baby. I’m so sorry.”
I grip his hair between my fingers. “I know, but we’re trying to forget all of that now, right?”
“Good girl.” He opens the drawer, pulling out a lemon drop. Just seeing the small yellow candy brings back good memories. He sucks on it first then kisses me, carefully placing it on my tongue, while skimming his fingers along the inside of my thighs. I roll the candy around and pass it back. He runs his candy-coated tongue along down my throat, against each of my nipples then slips down circling my belly button.
He presses one finger into me while working his mouth back up to my breasts. “You’re so wet. What do you want first, baby?” He pushes a second finger inside me, and I swear I’m going to lose it. “Fingers or cock?”
“Mouth,” I moan, feeling him smile against the crook of my neck.
“Lean back,” he instructs, removing his fingers and spreading my legs.
He’s everything. I could live the rest of my life alone in this house with him and have everything.
His candy-covered tongue works its way down between my legs. I wrap my legs over his shoulders as his hot mouth works more core.
He sucks.
Then circles.
Then sucks again.
I lose myself, screaming his name over and over as I tug his hair. He waits for me breathing to slow before working his way back up, passing the little bit of candy that’s left back to me.
“And that was number one.” He throws out a cocky grin, reminding me of that night.
“You think you can make it four this time?” I tease, rolling the little bit of candy that’s left around on my tongue. I taste myself as I watch him strip in front of me.
He rests his forearms against the cabinet as he sinks into me slowly. “Baby, I can give you as many as you want. You just need to tell me when to stop.” He plunges all the way in, almost daring me to beg for it. “You’re still my Lemon Drop.”
I moan. It’s all I can do. His words used to cause rivers of desire to flow, but they could cause a tidal wave in the ocean now.
“Do you know how many of those I ate in the months we were apart?” he whispers against my lips.
I shake my head slowly waiting for him to kiss me.
“At least ten a day. I couldn’t stop because they remind me of you, and you’re my addiction.”
“Kiss me,” I beg, covering his cheeks with my hands.
He pulls my hands away, pinning them up against the cabinet as he continues to push into me over and over. “This is my game tonight, Lemon Drop. I make up the rules.”
The way he has me pinned combined with his words has me coming around him within seconds. Something about giving him all control turns me on. It’s only then that he kisses me—soft and tender—weakening my cries.
Blake is a protector.
A lover.
A fighter.
He’s not always sweet, but that’s what I like most about him.
“That’s two,” he says against my lips.
When my breathing slows, he wipes us both off and leads me to a spare bedroom that’s already been setup as a studio of sorts. The walls and floors are covered in a protective white canvas.
He stands me in the middle of the room and tells me to close my eyes. If it were anyone but him it wouldn’t feel right, but trust gives a person a license for many things. Besides, I remember this moment like it was yesterday. I’d relive it every day if I could.
“The night in the studio … I held back on things that I shouldn’t have. I was scared of the way you made me feel.”
Cool paint touches the space between my breasts. I flinch at first and then just like I did last time, I try to figure out what he’s painting. The contrast against my skin, the coolness … it feels exactly the same. When I remember the first time he did this, it feels like falling in love all over again. The lemon drops were special, but this stole my heart.
“I want you to listen and feel. Nothing else.”
He continues to paint down my stomach. My eyes twitch, waiting to open. “Don’t open your eyes, baby. I’m almost done.”
If he only knew what he does to me. You think you know what love is until you really feel it. You have to truly fall before someone can catch you.
I’ve definitely fallen.
I hear his bare feet on the canvas-covered floor moving away from me then coming back. His calloused fingertips trace a line from one side of my hips to the other, not cold or wet. My breath hitches when they slip between my legs, two entering at once while his thumb works my clit.
“Still wet,” he growls, pulling my lower lip between his teeth. His touch switches between sensual and rough—loving then teasing. His fingers halt, and I want to cry. “Do you remember what I said that night? What my favorite part of your body is?”
How could I forget? “My eyes. You said my eyes.”
He inserts his long fingers inside of me continuing what he’d started. Standing in darkness, the only thing I have to do is feel his skin against my swollen flesh.
The friction.
The tension.
Two hearts further melting into one.
The pressure builds, and I come hard around his fingers, digging my nails into his shoulders to hold myself steady. His mouth covers mine, swallowing my screams. He groans, kissing me hard, punctuating it by lightly kissing each corner of my mouth and the tip of my nose like he’d done that night.
I attempt to open my eyes, but he kisses me before I get a glimpse of what he painted. He’s good at diversion. He finally steps back, and says, “You can open your eyes now.”
As soon as my eyes adjust to the light, I see “I LOVE YOU”. The “I” between my breasts “LOVE YOU” on my stomach.
“I should have told you I love you then because that’s when I knew.”
“I loved you then, too,” I admit.
“Think of how many of our problems could have been avoided if those words had been spoken.”
“I’ll tell you every day,” I promise.
“I feel it, baby, and every time you look at me, I feel it.”
He’s scrapbooking our whole relationship right onto my heart—the one he fore
ver holds in his palms.
He grabs my hand again, leading me up the stairs to the only bathroom in the whole house. It has a white pedestal sink, toilet, and oversized claw foot tub. I used to swim it in as a kid. He lets go of me just long enough to start the water. The picnic basket he carried in earlier is sitting against it. He reaches inside, sprinkling rose petals over the rising water.
“Let me wipe some of the paint off you,” he says, wetting an old yellow washcloth. “You’re not going to forget it now, are you?”
I shake my head, enjoying the texture of the warm cloth against my skin—the gentle way he moves it over my stomach. “It’s written in your eyes, too, Blake. It’s written in lots of the things you do for me.”
“Don’t forget it. There’s going to be days when I’m a complete asshole, but even then, I need you to remember I love you. I can’t think of a single thing that would change that.”
He kisses me, tracing his thumbs over my nipples. I moan against his lips, ready to go at it all over again.
“Let’s get in the tub before I end up bringing you to bed instead,” he mumbles against my lips walking us back until the backs of my legs hit the porcelain. He helps me in then sits across from me with our legs entwined.
“Remember the night I came home and climbed in the tub with you, and you started to cry after we made love?”
I nod.
“Tell me what you told me before you climbed out,” he says.
“Tell you what?” I ask, staring into his deep blue eyes. There are other parts of that night I remember more vividly.
“That you love me. Tell me again.”
“I love you, Blake.”
“I love you, Lila.”
I bend my legs, closing enough space between us that I can easily kiss his lips. He only allows a taste before pulling back. “If I’d said it back then, what would you have said next? How would that night have been different?”
I scoot back to my side of the tub, looking into his eyes. “I’m pregnant, Blake.”
He moves toward me like I’d just done to him. “Are you sure?” he asks, placing his hand over my flat stomach.
“I took a test this morning.”
His eyes well with tears. “What if I’m a shitty parent?”
