“Who?” I asked, feeling like I had whiplash.
She rolled her eyes. “Augustus Waters! From The Fault in Our Stars?”
I shook my head. “Okay, but Whitney, you said you weren’t ready for me to date anyone. You said you were scared of what might happen.”
“I know what I said on New Year’s Eve, and I’m sorry. It wasn’t fair. If you and Henry love each other, you should be together. Keaton and I just talked about it, and we agree.”
I placed two palms on the tablecloth, wishing the world would just slow down for a moment. I couldn’t keep up. “Wait a minute. You spoke to Keaton about this already?”
“Yes, right after I talked to Henry. We want you to be happy, Mom. I know you say you don’t need anyone but us, but that’s a lot of pressure—and it’s not working. We can hear you crying at night. We think you need something of your own.”
I stared at her, openmouthed with shock. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Say you’ll give him another chance. Say you forgive me for standing in the way before. I was scared—I’m still kind of scared—but the therapist says you can’t let fear get the best of you. She says I’m stronger than I think.”
“Oh, baby, of course I forgive you.” I sniffed as I rose from my chair and reached for her. “Come here.”
She stood up and we hugged for a long time.
“Your therapist is right. You are strong. And I’m so lucky to have a daughter like you,” I whispered. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Are you going to call him?”
“I’m going to think about it, I promise.”
“Okay,” she said, trying to detach herself from me. “But can I go now? Millie said she was going to be here around four, and I think it’s after that.”
“Oh. Sure.” I released her, and she gladly hightailed it out of the restaurant, leaving me to sink back into the chair and sit there in a stupor.
I couldn’t believe it. Whitney had gone to see Henry. Whitney was taking what she learned at therapy and helping me. Whitney and Keaton wanted me to give Henry another chance. They wanted me to have something of my own.
Was I strong enough to go after it? Was I brave enough to let myself love and be loved? Was I ready to talk down that voice of doubt in my head and offer my heart to Henry—whole, unguarded, and open?
I was sitting there struggling with it all when he suddenly burst into the empty restaurant. He seemed out of breath, like he’d been running, and when he spotted me sitting alone at the table, he moved toward me with long, purposeful strides.
He reached my side and stood above, his chest rising and falling fast, his eyes pinned on mine. “No,” he announced.
“No?” I blinked at him.
“No. I changed my mind. I’m not walking away. Fear doesn’t get to win.” He grabbed my arm and pulled me to my feet. My legs were so weak and rubbery that he practically had to hold me up. “I love you, Sylvia. But more than that, I love us together. I love that you listen to me ramble on about volatile acidity like it’s the most fascinating subject in the world. I love that you don’t care if my shirts have holes. I love hearing you tell stories about growing up here. I love the way you smile at me across a room. I love the way I can guess what you’re thinking by the blush in your cheeks. I love the way you put family first, because that’s all I’ve ever wanted to do too.”
I’d started to cry, and he brushed his thumbs beneath my eyes.
“I know you’re scared, and that’s okay. I know you’re not used to someone keeping his promises. And I know it’s going to take time for me to break down all those walls, but damn it, Sylvia, you’re going to let me try. You’re going to let me stick around. And you’re going to let me love you, and prove to you that we can build something so real and so strong, it’s unbreakable.”
“Henry,” I whispered, shaking my head. “What did I do to deserve you?”
He smiled gently. “You came looking for me. That very first night you were home, you came looking for me. I’ll never forget that.”
“I must have known.” I couldn’t help smiling.
“You must have known.” He briefly pressed his lips to mine. “And I knew it too, that very same night. When I walked you back home through the snow and stood there with you on the porch, I never wanted to kiss someone so badly in all my life.”
I gasped, laughing a little. “Really?”
“Yeah.” He chuckled. “You don’t recall how fast I took off?”
I tried to think back. “You know what? I do remember that. You said something about being able to give in to a woman, and then the next second, you were gone. But I kept thinking and thinking about what you’d said—I couldn’t get you off my mind.”
“The feeling was definitely mutual.”
“I heard you had a visitor earlier today.”
He nodded, giving me a crooked grin. “I did. Surprised the hell out of me.”
“When she told me where she’d been, I nearly fell over.”
“She’s a good kid, she and her brother both. I’m looking forward to getting to know them better.”
I looked up at him, searching for certainty in his eyes and finding it there. “This is real, isn’t it? The way we feel? Even though it happened so quickly and unexpectedly?”
“It’s real, Sylvia. Trust me.” Then he smiled. “Trust you.”
* * *
That night, I invited Henry over to have dinner and watch a movie with the kids and me. He stopped on the way and picked up cupcakes for the kids, and he brought me a bottle of wine.
“Thank you,” I said, giving him a kiss on the cheek and pulling the corkscrew from a drawer. “Want to open it? I’m just finishing up the sauce for the tenderloin. Then I’ll give you a tour of the house.”
“Perfect. It’s a beautiful house. I can see why you fell in love with it so fast.”
“Thank you. There’s work to be done, but I’m in no rush.”
“So are you coming back to work soon?” He opened the bottle and poured two glasses. “I’m not sure if Chloe has mentioned it or not, but she’s interviewing two people this week for tasting room help.”
“I definitely want to come back,” I told him, stirring the mushroom glaze. “I’ve missed it. I’ll talk to Chloe tomorrow.”
I gave Henry a tour of the new house, and the kids proudly showed off their rooms. While they dragged him outside in the dark to see the yard, the barn, and the other dilapidated outbuildings I’d have to deal with in the spring, I sliced the tenderloin and made sure the mashed potatoes were still warm.
They trooped inside again, and Henry asked if I was planning a vegetable garden. “You’ve got a great spot in the yard that would get plenty of sun,” he said, removing his jacket.
“Can we, Mom?” Whitney asked.
“Sure,” I said. “I used to love working in the garden with my mom when I was young. But I don’t know much about putting one in.”
“I can help,” Henry said.
I imagined it all—a summer day full of sunshine, a garden full of vegetables, a yard full of kids and animals, boisterous shouts and good-natured teasing, a home full of laughter and life . . . Henry and I, together.
I saw it so clearly, there was no doubt in my mind it would happen.
Twenty-Five
Henry
One week after Valentine’s Day, I went to pick Sylvia up for our first official date night. It was snowing pretty hard and the roads were bad, so I was running a little late, but she’d said that was okay because it had taken her a little longer than planned to get back from dropping the kids off at her parents’ for the night.
Which I was pretty excited about.
It would be the first time we’d been alone since New Year’s Eve, and every time I thought about it, I immediately got hard.
But I willed myself to have patience. This date was important to me—we’d always remember it. I figured we’d have dinner in town, maybe catch a movie or just stroll up
and down Main Street. It wouldn’t even matter what we did—I just wanted to be the one that got to take her somewhere, open the door for her, sit in a cozy booth and hold her hand across the table.
Then I’d bring her home and fuck her senseless.
But when she answered my knock, I suddenly wanted to reverse the order of my plans.
“Hi,” she said, giving me a mischievous, cherry-lipped grin.
My jaw dropped.
She wore a red and white cheerleader costume, complete with short—and I mean short—pleated skirt, tight crop top that said CHEER across the front, white ankle socks and sneakers. Her hair was pulled off her face in a high ponytail tied with a big red bow, and she carried red and white pom poms in her hands.
I think I tried to say hi, but all I got out was a word that sounded like “hot.”
“Would you like to come in?”
Nodding, I stepped into the house, unable to take my eyes off her or close my mouth. My dick was already standing at attention yelling GO! FIGHT! WIN! as I shut the door behind me.
“I know we’re supposed to go out for dinner, but with the snowstorm and everything, I thought maybe you’d like to stay in,” she said seductively, walking backward. “So I planned a little evening for us here.”
As if in a trance, I followed her to the family room at the back of the house, where all the shades were pulled and the only light came from candles set on the coffee table—right next to a box of Krispy Kreme donuts and an oversized Restoration Hardware catalog.
I looked at her in surprise. “What’s this?”
“It’s your favorite things,” she said with a grin. “I know one cheerleader isn’t the same as teams of them competing on ESPN, but I thought you’d like the outfit just the same.”
I had to laugh. “I do.”
“Good. Want to take off your coat?”
I shrugged my jacket off and threw it aside, anxious to get my hands on her.
She had other ideas. “Okay, now you sit down and eat a Krispy Kreme.”
“You want me to sit down and eat right now?” I put my arms around her. “What if I’d rather do something else?”
“Hey. I’m in charge here.” She tapped her pom poms against my chest.
“I love when you try to get bossy.” I buried my face in her neck and inhaled. “But I’m not hungry, Sylvia. Not for donuts, anyway.”
She laughed when I tickled her throat with my tongue. “Hey, I’m just trying to make our first official date memorable here.”
“Goal achieved,” I said, backing up toward the couch and bringing her with me. “Seriously. V-I-C-T-O-R-Y. Now let’s see your straddle.”
Giggling, she let me pull her onto my lap, her knees on either side of my thighs, and tossed her pom poms over my shoulders. “So impatient.”
“I can’t help it,” I said, kissing her lips as my hands slid beneath that skirt. “You know how I get when you wear a short—” I stopped. “You’re naked underneath this outfit?”
Her eyelids lowered half-way as I stroked her. “Uh huh.”
The bulge in my pants was almost unbearable as I caressed her tongue with mine and mirrored the slow, sensual motion with my fingers between her legs. She rocked her hips over my hand, growing aroused and restless.
“Now who’s impatient?” I teased as she reached for my belt.
“S-Y-L-V-I-A.” She quickly unbuttoned and unzipped, reaching inside to free my cock, which sprang up eagerly. Wrapping her hand around it, she gave it several tight, hard strokes, making me groan with agonizing pleasure at her touch. I wasn’t sure how long I could maintain control, so I was glad when she lowered her body onto mine inside a minute.
I gripped her hips and worked her up and down my hard length, my eyes practically coming out of my head at the sight of her bouncing on my cock in that cheerleader getup. “Oh fuck, I’m not going to last,” I growled. I knew it would help if I closed my eyes, but I couldn’t do it—she was so fucking hot, it was mesmerizing.
“It’s okay,” she said breathlessly. Then she leaned down and whispered against my lips, “And we have the whole night together. You can make me come as many times as you want.”
That nearly sent me over the edge, but I willed myself to hang on a little longer. I moved one hand between her legs and rubbed my thumb over her clit the way she liked, and her mouth dropped open, her eyes closing. She made soft little sounds as she circled her hips and dug her fingers into my shoulders. When her cries rose to a fever pitch and I felt her leg muscles tense and her body still, I couldn’t hold back any longer. I grabbed her hips and thrust into her again and again, my orgasm thundering throughout my body as she came undone above me.
And as I poured into her, I held her close and felt my heart surging with love for her, and I wondered how I ever thought I could give her up.
“Never,” I heard myself whispering fiercely into her ear. “I will never let you go.”
Her arms tightened around me, and she laid her head on my shoulder. Our hearts beat hard and fast against one another’s. “This is right where I want to be, Henry. In your arms. Always.”
* * *
A little while later, she got up to use the bathroom, and when she returned, she was carrying a plate. Reaching into the box of Krispy Kremes, she set a donut on the plate and handed it to me. “Okay, now you have to let me do the thing I planned.”
“Does it involve eating this donut while you jump around in that outfit with no underwear on? Because count me in.” I picked up the Krispy Kreme and bit into it.
She laughed. “No, it’s even better.” Sitting next to me on her knees, she leaned over and picked up the Restoration Hardware catalog and opened it up. “I am going to read you a bedtime story in my sexiest voice.”
I burst out laughing and took another bite. “Do it.”
She opened the book to a random page, inhaled, and looked at me with sultry eyes. “The reclaimed rustic oak collection.”
“Mmmmm,” I moaned. “Tell me more.”
Posing seductively, she spoke in a breathy, sex kitten voice. Whenever she got to words related to wood, she’d look me in the eye and arch her brows. “Celebrating the organic beauty of salvaged wood, our table is handcrafted of solid oak timbers reclaimed from decades-old buildings.”
“God, you’re making me hard.” Groaning, I shoved the rest of the donut in my mouth. “Can I jerk off while you read?”
She was trying to stay serious, but a smile was creeping onto her lips. “Rough-hewn planks define a simple parsons style, allowing the oak’s rustic character to take center stage. Each one-of-a-kind table displays the nicks, knots, and imperfections that speak to the wood’s former life.”
“You’re killing me. This is so hot.” I reached for the book and set it aside. “But the imperfections of the wood’s former life don’t matter.”
She laughed. “No?”
“No.” I pulled her across my lap, cradling her in my arms. “What matters is here and now, and you know what? Here and now is pretty fucking perfect.”
Smiling, she looped her arms around my neck. “I agree.”
I pressed my lips to hers. “I love you, Sylvia Sawyer. And I might never be able to give you fancy things, but I’ll take care of you. I promise.”
“I believe you with my whole heart.” She gave me that smile, the one that would melt my insides for the rest of my life. “And I don’t want fancy things, Henry. I’ll take your time and attention over expensive gifts any day. I just want to belong to you.”
“You do. And I belong to you.” I kissed her once more, and knew in my heart that with these words, we were putting down roots that would be forever intertwined. “We belong together.”
Epilogue: Sylvia
“I’m sorry. Could you say that again?” I asked Dr. Kelson, a dark-skinned woman with kind eyes and a soft voice.
“The test is positive. You’re pregnant,” she said firmly.
“I can’t be. I’m infertile.”
She looked at the results again. “Not according to this.”
“But my eggs.” I shook my head, feeling dizzy and disoriented and sick to my stomach, which was why I was here in the first place. “My eggs aren’t good. They’re past their due date.”
She smiled gingerly and opened a paper calendar on the counter. “The only due date you have to think about is probably sometime this fall. When was your last period?”
“Uh . . .” I tried to think. “Maybe early December?”
She looked up from the calendar. “So did you miss one in January too?”
My brain was reeling. Had I? I must have. “I guess it’s possible. My life has been sort of upside down since the move. And my periods have been irregular for the last year, probably because I lost quite a bit of weight.”
She nodded. “That can happen. Your weight is in the healthy range now, but let’s see if we can pinpoint when you might have conceived.”
Conceived.
Oh my God.
“So today is March twelfth. You know for sure you missed one in February, and you think maybe you missed January.”
“I’m pretty sure I did,” I said, reality sinking in. “And my best guess is that I conceived somewhere between Christmas and New Year’s.” Tears filled my eyes.
Dr. Kelson plucked a tissue from the box on the counter and handed it to me. “I take it this baby is a surprise?”
“Yes.” To say the least.
“You mentioned you’re divorced on your intake forms. Is the baby’s father—”
“Not my ex,” I said, trying to gain control. “It’s someone else.”
“Is he part of your life? Would he be supportive?”
I nodded and dabbed at my eyes with the tissue. “Yes, he is part of my life, and he’s wonderful. He’ll be supportive.”
Unbreakable Page 25
