Broken

by Tia Sirrah

  Chapter 23

  "CONNER AND I DECIDED on teal for the walls." I flipped through the design portfolio and ran my fingers along various fabric swatches that were laid before us in my office, in our home. Fatima and Helena joined us, helping me finalize the design for the nursery before Conner and I left town for our babymoon. Upon our return, the nursery would be completed. Helena and Fatima agreed to supervise the entire project in our absence.

  "That’s a wonderful choice, dear." Emma Vantrose, famed designer and television personality clapped her hands and beamed. "I can see it now. The teal walls with the gray and white chevron motif will do a fabulous job breaking up the solid blocks of color." Emma’s sleek red bob hung dramatically over one eye, and she brushed it back with red manicured fingers.

  "The furniture will be delivered next Tuesday?" Helena asked as she sipped her coffee.

  "Yes. My crew and I will arrive at 7 a.m. sharp." Emma jotted a few things down on her tablet before packing away the color swatches and portfolio.

  "I love your show, by the way. I watch it all the time," Fatima enthusiastically said, going all fangirl on Emma.

  "Thank you, dear." Emma graciously smiled.

  I walked, more like wobbled, with Emma to her car. "Thanks so much. I know your schedule is hectic. We really appreciate it."

  "Oh, dear. It’s not a problem at all." We air-kissed each other’s cheeks. "Please give Conner my love." She smiled and took my hands. "Just beautiful. You’re glowing."

  I rubbed my enormous belly. "I feel like a whale."

  "You look fabulous. You’re all stomach, just like my daughter in law. She’s due in a few weeks also. Like I told her, you’ll have your figure back in no time. But don’t rush it." She winked. "Just take care of yourself. You won’t get a full night’s sleep for the next couple of years."

  "So I’ve been told," I said with a smile.

  The cool November breeze skated across my skin and through my hair. The crisp leaves of the oak trees crunched beneath our shoes. Emma and I embraced before she got inside of her car. "I’ll email you all the specs today. Enjoy your babymoon," she called out, before driving away.

  ∞∞∞

  FATIMA AND HELENA WERE in the kitchen seated at the corner breakfast nook. Javier had prepared a platter of sandwich wraps for us. I sat down at the table, while Fatima and Helena fixed our plates. Helena handed me a plate and sat down beside me. "Thanks, Helena." I rubbed the side of my belly as Caleb extended his foot, causing a tiny limb to protrude out. His brother, Caden, was sleeping.

  "Aww, let me feel!" Fatima came over and placed her hands on top of my belly. Her face lit with wonder as Caden starting to stir awake.

  I took a big bite of my sandwich and leaned back in my chair. "They kept me up most of the night. And the heartburn. Ugh."

  "You sure it wasn’t Conner who kept you up last night?" Fatima joshed while nudging me.

  "TMI," Helena said, as she scrunched her face. "What time do you guys leave tonight?"

  "The jet will be fired up and ready at 4 o'clock. Conner should be home soon." Conner had left his therapy appointment with Dr. Stan McLaughlin about thirty minutes ago. I met with my therapist, Dr. Sheila Jackson, yesterday.

  "I’m not entirely comfortable with you traveling so close to your due date. Your father’s not too happy about it either." Concern shone on Helena’s face.

  "Dad gave Conner an earful yesterday, making sure he had all the emergency numbers on speed dial." Conner and my dad were on speaking terms these days. They seemed to have buried the hatchet and had even played a few rounds of golf recently. Conner hated golf. My dad loved it. "Dr. Shavers cleared us for travel. We also have the top OBGYN in Monterey County on standby, if anything should arise. We haven’t had any complications up to this point, so I’m not worried." Helena didn’t look the least bit convinced. "It’ll be a comfortable flight. His jet is super comfy, and it even has a bed in it. And we’ll probably stay inside the cabin the entire time we’re there."

  "If that’s a cabin," Fatima made air quotes with her fingers, "then that Olympic size pool you have out back is a puddle. The pictures you showed us looked amazing."

  It was rather captivating. Conner owned a custom-made log cabin in Northern California, in Monterey County. It’s four thousand square foot structure, which was made of cedarwood, stone, and glass was nestled and secluded in the Redwoods. All the rooms either had a view of the Pacific Ocean or sprawling redwood trees. "Yeah, it’s not your typical cabin in the woods. He had it built a couple years back as a prototype for a development he’s planning on building in Colorado." I finished my sandwich and gulped down the rest of my sweet tea.

  "Have you heard from Amy? I haven’t seen her around lately." Helena eyed me over the rim of her glass.

  "She’s spending some time in Aspen right now with a cousin." Conner and I received a handwritten letter from Amy about a month ago. She wished us both the best and apologized for any pain and disruption that she caused in our lives. She planned to stay in Aspen, indefinitely.

  "I heard that Quentin moved out and let her keep the house," Fatima responded.

  "How did you know that Quentin left her the house?" Helena asked Fatima.

  Fatima took a few large gulps of her sweet tea like she was dying of thirst. "Quentin may have mentioned it."

  "To you?" Helena quizzically asked.

  I looked back and forth between the two of them.

  Fatima casually waved her hand and gave a light shrug.

  "Right," Helena drawled. "We’ll have this conversation later," Helena said disapprovingly.

  "Yes, ma’am," Fatima replied. Helena was more like a mother to Fatima than an aunt. She helped raise her when Fatima’s mother passed away when she was just shy of eight years old.

  "Novalee, dear, what happened between Amy and Quentin? The ink was barely dry on their marriage license before they called it quits. And to top it off, she had her tongue down your throat."

  Fatima choked on her sweet tea, and my jaw was agape in shock. "Her tongue was not down my throat."

  "Yeah, okay. And that picture was doctored, right?"

  "The photo was grainy! There was absolutely no tongue action," I defended.

  "It was really dark in that parking garage, auntie," Fatima commented, barely keeping a straight face.

  "Don’t get all in a huff." Helena shooed me with her hand. "Back to Quentin. Was there infidelity involved? I can’t imagine a woman cheating on Quentin. That man is a fine piece of ass." Helena fanned herself with her hand.

  "Helena, language," I playfully reprimanded.

  She and Fatima clinked glasses. "Here, here!" Fatima joined in.

  "And he’s such a gentleman. He is such a class act," Helena added.

  Fatima remained silent and slowly nodded.

  "You two are too much." I shook my head at them and stifled a giggle.

  "It must be something in the water out here," Helena commented. "Quentin and Conner are the finest white boys I have ever laid my eyes on. Quentin is like a hybrid of Paul Walker and Brad Pitt. And Conner…whew, chile. He reminds of that man from those Fifty Shades movies. All dark and mysterious." Helena exaggeratedly flipped her hair and clutched her pearl necklace, before we all squealed in laughter.

  "What did I miss? What’s so funny?" Conner walked up behind me and wrapped his arms around me.

  "Oh, nothing," Helena downplayed. "We’re talking our town’s drinking water quality."

  Conner’s brows drew together. "Hmm, okay. Well, don’t let me interrupt." He kissed me on my neck before leaving the kitchen.

  Fatima bit back her cackle, causing some tea to squirt out of her nose, which made us all start up again.

  "Okay, I just peed a little," I said, rising from the chair and rushing to the bathroom.

  "Eww," Fatima called out, laughing even harder.

  "I’m going to tell Conner!" Helena teased.

  "Tell Conner, and I’ll tell my dad that you like white meat,
" I singsonged over my shoulder before closing the bathroom door.

  Chapter 24

  WE WERE UPSTAIRS IN the sunroom of Conner’s cabin. Cuddling on the couch, my back rested against his bare chest. My gaze focused on the picturesque view of the Pacific Ocean. Salty air and the sound of crashing waves drifted through the floor-to-ceiling windows. Our semi-nude bodies were still damp from our joint shower, and a cashmere blanket was haphazardly strewn over us.

  Over the last four days, Conner had spoiled me senseless. A full staff, consisting of an award-winning chef, housekeeper, spa professionals, a yoga instructor, and even a violinist were housed on Conner’s adjoining servant quarters, to be available at our beck and call. Every morning, we were served breakfast in bed. My days were filled with posh pampering while Conner spent his days busy with work, morning jogs on the beach, or pumping iron in the upstairs gym. Every night, we made slow passionate love on 1500 thread count sheets. Our kinky sex was put on pause for the remainder of my pregnancy, but the toe-curling orgasms remained. Most nights after dinner, we would sit out on the upstairs deck in our fluffy robes and stare out at the moonlight reflecting off the ocean waves.

  "Sleepy?" Conner’s deep voice reverberated through his chest.

  "A little," I mumbled, my eyelids drooping.

  "Get some sleep. I have some things to do downstairs, anyway." He kissed the top of my head, before rising from the couch and tucking the throw blanket around my body. He looked delicious in his low-slung pajama bottoms. Even through my sleepy haze, my eyes focused in on his rock-hard abs and traveled down to his sexy V muscle.

  "Don’t let me sleep the night away."

  "I promise I won’t."

  I drifted off to sleep as soon as Conner left the room.

  I woke up to the soft sounds of recorded music coming from downstairs. Rain thudded against the windows. The room was dark, save for the flameless tea light candles that flickered and were scattered in a trail on the floor, leading out of the room. Red rose petals surrounded their illumination. I rose from the couch in that unceremonious way that pregnant women do and arched my back in a stretch. Before following the lighted floral path, I made a pit stop to the master bath. After emptying my bladder, I dolled myself up for whatever awaited me downstairs.

  I slipped my arms into a floor-length rose-colored silk robe, securing the ties above my protruding belly. I sauntered downstairs following the trail set before me. As I neared the bottom of the stairs, a pungent smell of something burning assaulted my nostrils. It was coming from the kitchen.

  "Fuck!" Conner’s voice boomed, as I heard a loud clatter of metal followed immediately by running water.

  I headed to the kitchen. Soft R&B tunes from my cell phone’s playlist crooned from the surround sound speakers. My eyes blurred with tears from the sight before me. A pristine white tablecloth was draped on the dining room table. Sterling silver stemware, dinnerware, and long-stemmed candles adorned it. Conner stood over the sink, a massive blanket of smoke surrounding him, as tap water sprayed into something sizzling. He had covered his bare chest with a long sleeve black henley, its sleeves bunched up to his forearms. He frantically fanned the smoke away from his face, his back muscles flexing with every movement.

  He hadn’t noticed me yet. His attention was diverted to the stove where a pot of something began to boil over, its contents spilling onto the cooktop. He instinctively grabbed the pot handle, burning his hand in the process. "Ah, Damnit!" he shouted.

  I rushed over and removed the pot from the burner with an oven mitt. I turned off the stove then focused on him. "Let me see." I took hold of Conner’s wrist and hovered his hand over the running faucet of cold water.

  "Well, I royally fucked that up, didn’t I?" He chuckled as he inspected the chaos around him.

  "Aww, babe. This is the most romantic thing you’ve ever done."

  "Damn." He scrunched his face. "I really need to step my game up."

  "You know what I mean. I never thought I’d see the day. You, cooking me a romantic meal." I couldn’t make out the charcoal crusted contents in the skillet which still sizzled in the sink. "I love the fact that you did all of this yourself." Tears welled in my eyes. Damn pregnancy hormones. One minute I was angry, the next, I was horny, and the next, I was over-emotional and crying.

  He turned off the water and dried his hands with a nearby dishtowel. "I wanted tonight to be special."

  I wrapped my arms around his waist and tipped my head back to look up at him. "It is special. I’m sure there’s something we can salvage."

  "I think I burned everything but the salad." He gestured over to the salad, which sat on the kitchen island. "I almost lost a finger slicing the cucumbers," he smirked, "but I managed to make it out unscathed."

  "Perfect." I rubbed my hands together. "I’m starving. Let’s eat."

  ∞∞∞

  CONNER PILED OUR PLATES with salad and poured sparkling cider into our glasses. We had an unobstructed view of the ocean and the crescent-shaped moon. "I could never grow tired of this view," I sighed, taking in the mesmerizing scenery.

  "Well then, we’ll have to fly out whenever you want to see it."

  Oh, this man of mine.

  During our meal, Conner seemed a bit anxious, as he nervously tapped his foot under the table. He ate his salad rather quickly and drank all his cider in a few gulps.

  "Everything alright?"

  "Yeah." I arched a brow at him. "How about we go outside? We can sit under the awning and watch the rain. There are blankets in the warmer."

  I beamed. "Sounds perfect. I love the smell of rain."

  "Okay, cool." Conner stood up a bit abruptly, the legs of his chair scraping along the wood floor. Nervous energy emanated from him as he helped me out of my chair.

  We stepped out onto the wraparound porch. It was chilly and rainy, so Conner draped a warm wool blanket around my shoulders and head, before swooping me up in his arms. "I can walk," I teased as I wrapped my arms around his neck.

  "I don’t want you to get your feet wet," he simply said as he carried me upstairs to the second story deck. The violent rain mercilessly beat down on Conner, fat droplets dripping down from his hair and onto his face. I wanted to lick every single raindrop away.

  Once we reached the upstairs awning, he planted me on my feet. He turned on the heated lamps as I leaned up against the log railing, enjoying the view and the salty air. Conner replaced my blanket with another warm one and stood behind me, enveloping me in his arms. We stood like this for a while, taking in the midnight-blue raging sea.

  I leaned my head back against his chest, enjoying the heat from his body and the strength of his arms. We had come such a long way in such a short amount of time. And we had a long way to go, and a lot of individual work to do, to become our whole, healthy selves. But I couldn’t imagine doing it with anyone else.

  Conner’s lips grazed my ear, sending shivers down my spine. "Marry me, angel?"

  I turned around as Conner lowered himself onto one knee. In his hand, he held an opened Tiffany Blue Box. A stunning round cut diamond ring on a platinum band nearly blinded me. Conner’s luminous green eyes expressed hope and a bit of worry. I nodded furiously. "Yes! Oh my God, yes!" I managed to say pass the lump in my throat.

  "Thank fuck," he sighed as he slipped the ring on my finger. I held my left hand out to examine my ring, its carats weighty on my finger. Conner quickly rose to his feet and pressed his lips to mine. He cupped my jaw in his hands, his tongue greedily seeking mine in a breathless kiss that made my toes curl and sent electric bolts from my heart down to my sex. It was a desperate, burning kiss. After our mouths separated, we pressed our foreheads together. "How’d I get so lucky?" he whispered, his voice a low timbre.

  It seemed only fitting that the faint sounds of Chrisette Michele’s A Couple of Forevers began to play from the speakers inside. Conner and I stood there, as our lips gently skated across each other’s, our breath mingling in the fresh night air. "I can ask
the same thing," I said before kissing him again.

  "I need to taste your pussy," Conner said against my mouth. Trailing kisses down my throat, he untied my robe. My body trembled with want as he backed me up to a nearby chair. "Sit down and spread your legs," he commanded, his voice sexy as sin. I did as I was told, my robe falling open, exposing my breasts, my expanded belly, and my panty-clad sex. "So beautiful," he said, as he lowered himself on his knees.

  Conner pulled my panties down slowly, before trailing his tongue along the inside of my thigh until he reached my sweet spot. He flickered his tongue over my tiny bundle of nerves, before sliding it between my slick folds and lapping up my lust. I gripped him by the hair when he pulled my legs farther apart and thrust his tongue deep inside of me, stroking within my walls. It was game over for me when he used his tongue as a vibrator against my clit. Conner was a master at eating me, knowing the exact moment of when to suck hard, when to thrust, and when to ease up and apply gentle titillating pressure.

  "That’s right. Cum on my tongue," he growled, as I became undone under his skillful touch. "You taste so fucking good," he said before he added two long fingers to the mix. In and out, in and out. My entire body tingled as I desperately tried to come down from my high, not sure if I could take any more stimulation. My womb contracted as I screamed his name, the second orgasm crashing into me immediately after the first. He hummed his pleasure as I came on his tongue again, and he licked me dry. Completely spent, I readily relaxed in Conner’s arms as he scooped me up and carried me to our master suite, where I eagerly returned the favor.

  ∞∞∞

  FROM THE NIGHT before, Conner and I sat out on the front porch swing, swathed in our white spa robes. Sheltered by the cabin’s awning, we looked out at the heavy storm and the swaying redwood trees around us. I breathed in the smell of fresh rain and wet wood.

  Conner’s phone vibrated beside him, and after looking at the screen he said, "You need to call your parents and Fatima. Fatima wants to know if I burned the cabin down with my attempt to make dinner. I promised that you would call them after I proposed, but we were a bit preoccupied last night." He rested his hand across my stomach and leisurely rubbed it.