by Vesper Young
“In fairness, I did want to sleep with you,” I teased, wanting to ease the sting of the insult even though the thought of her own father talking to her that way pissed me off.
Kara’s light laugh filled my ears. “You also hired me for my interior design prowess. And now the Rattler looks substantially less seedy, if I do say so myself.”
“Fair enough. How about your mom?” From what I gathered she was the one who could be a real piece of work.
“She’s... difficult. Like I said, sweet as can be when she’s ripping me apart, and then she’d deny it ‘til the day she died. I’ve learned to live with it and let a lot go. They basically kicked me out when I got pregnant, and I’m pretty sure it was her idea. It was hard, being on my own.” She gave me a guilty glance, then continued. “She acts like that’s not what happened, like I kept Ryan from them, and maybe I did the first few years. After how they threw me out I didn’t want to risk them rejecting him too. But they’re completely different people with him. They’re so indulgent and kind and eager to please. They’re good grandparents.” She sounded like she was trying to convince herself.
“He’s a hard kid not to indulge,” I said lightly. Inside, coarse anger thrashed through me. She’d been alone for years. Her own parents had fucking ditched her. I’d been across the country, oblivious. And while it hurt knowing how bad off she’d been and how she hadn’t reached out, maybe she hadn’t trusted that someone else she cared about wouldn’t reject her. That I might turn her away, the way her own fucking parents did.
Those thoughts kept turning through my head while I sped through the highways. That lack of trust cut deep, but hearing how they had acted at least made it understandable.
We made it five minutes early. The highway had turned to residential streets, with Kara pointing out different houses. Their dog was capital-N nasty. Oh, this house gave out the best Halloween candy. Ugh, this dude mowed his lawn at seven in the morning. On Saturday.
I could’ve listened to her memories for hours. Finally, she pointed to a brick house on the side and grumbled “Here.”
The house fit in with the rest of the neighborhood. Redbrick front, single car garage. Plain mailbox at the end of the walkway. Carefully trimmed bushes even though it was the beginning of February.
So this is where Kara grew up.
“Showtime,” she said. She slurped the dregs of her drink. “You’ll be wishing you’d put the arsenic in like I asked soon if you aren’t already.”
Despite her words, Kara wasted no more time getting out of the car, marching up to the door and knocking. I followed her. Her foot was anxiously tapping the ground beneath her.
I squeezed her fingers in my palm. “We can do this.”
Before she could answer, the door swung open.
“Mom! Dad!” Ryan greeted us after throwing open the door. “Grandma thought you got lost.”
Kara bent down and gave Ryan a hug and a kiss. He gave me a hug after, and I ruffled his hair. I’d never given much thought to kids before I met him, but seeing him now I realized how much I’d missed my buddy in the past week.
A woman appeared in a flash, a slightly mechanical laugh coming off in waves. “No, no, we were just teasing. Hello, Kara. And you must be Lucas. Welcome to our home, sorry about the mess but with Ryan and the short notice, I’m sure you understand.”
In a whirlwind, we were ushered inside. The interior, from what I could see, was immaculate.
The woman was clearly Mrs. Iver, Kara’s mother. They had the same complexion and build, and the same hair, although Mrs. Iver had trimmed hers into a short cut.
“Lucas Northman.” I extended a hand. “You must be Mrs. Iver.”
She handed her hand over as if she expected it kissed. “An absolute pleasure. Call me Gloria, please. Can I take your coats?”
“I’ll put them in the closet,” Kara offered, already holding hers in her arms. I handed mine to her and offered the bag in my hand to Gloria.
“A house gift,” I said.
Wine was a pretty cliché house gift when you owned a bar, but I didn’t care.
“Thank you so much. Won’t you come with me to the dining room? Dinner is ready.”
I met Mr. Iver—who did not insist on a first-name basis, but at least he commented on my firm shake. Based on what Kara had said, I didn’t expect him to be warm to me. Considering how he’d let his own child fend for herself when she made a decision he disagreed with, I wasn’t feeling particularly friendly either.
Dinner was civil. That was the best I could say of it. Conversation was surface-level, with Ryan’s interjections the only source of levity. Food was served with real silverware, far cry from the busted flatware I used. The meal came in four courses, with a ridiculously decadent cake as the final flourish. After Ryan had thirds—at the encouragement of his grandparents—he wasn’t able to stop yawning.
“Someone’s up past his bedtime,” Kara said, voice low as if it was only meant for me. “I’ll take him—or better yet, Lucas, would you like to tuck him in?”
I was flattered she asked, even if it was over Ryan’s protests that he wasn’t tired.
“Sure thing,” I said, eyes flicking from her to the droopy kid across the table and back.
“Well—” Mrs. Iver’s prim voice started, but Kara cut her off equally sweetly.
“Up the stairs, second door. There’re a few books on a shelf.”
I got up without further acknowledgement from our actual hosts, not caring how rude it was. Ryan got up with some prompting, and halfway to the staircase, I wound up carrying him.
The room wasn’t hard to find. I laid him in bed and picked out a colorful dinosaur-themed book. Ryan was softly snoring before I even got ten pages in.
I passed a window by the staircase on my way back down. The snow was coming down already, and from the looks of it, it was coming down much harder than they’d predicted on the radio. Even if we left now, the roads would be a disaster. We’d have to figure something else out.
While I paused there, trying to figure out the safest way to get Kara home, loud voices wound their way across from the dining room.
“I told you when we spoke earlier you will not to talk about Lucas that way!” was Kara’s furious response to something.
I rushed to find my way back to Kara. Another angry exchange sparked in the air. I paused just outside the dining room, assessing the situation. Kara had a strained relationship with her parents, but as much as I hated to make it worse, I loved that she refused to be pushed around.
Kara’s parents were sitting still, while Kara stood with her hands slammed on the table. She looked angry. In contrast, the elder Iver faces were contorted by cold disapproval.
“Dear, he’s already run off once,” Gloria was saying. “Who's to say he won’t do it again? It’s just so careless of you.”
“I say so! He is a good man, Mother. I can count on him to be there for me, for Ryan. Even when I messed up and didn’t tell him—and I’ll hate myself for that every day, because it was entirely my fault Ryan didn’t know his father—even then, he was willing to be part of our family. He indulges Ryan with his favorite cereal, and he parents him, making sure he doesn’t have too much screen time and does his homework. Things I can’t even count on him to do when he’s here, because after screwing me up, you two decided you should get to be the fun parents, like it’s a do-over. But he’s my son, and I get a say who’s in his life, dammit!”
I stood there, stunned. She was doing more than defending me on principle. She believed I would be a good father and deserved a place in our son’s life with her whole heart. That I belonged with them. It felt so right, and so good to hear her say it when I wasn’t sure if I deserved it myself.
I was at Kara’s side a heartbeat later, three long strides returning me to the warzone.
“Kara, you are being absolutely hysterical… Oh. Lucas. I’m terribly sorry about the noise, Kara’s had too much—”
“Enough.�
� I cut Gloria off. “I understand you being skeptical of me. I want you to understand I’m not going anywhere. And I understand this adjustment may take a while for all of us. But how you treat your daughter is inexcusable. You acted like shit parents, abandoning her, and now lecture her when despite your example she’s been nothing but a fantastic mother.
“She’s been willing to step aside and allow you to have a relationship with your grandson. I can only be grateful to her forgiving heart, because she also gave me a chance with him, too. And perhaps there is some similarity between us all, who know and love Ryan. But you don’t know your daughter at all if you think she’d ever let something bad happen to him. She’s not some child for you to disparage when she’s—thankfully—not a carbon copy of what she came from. She’s an adult, a mother, and the woman I love.”
The words erupted from me, unfiltered and unfettered. I didn’t risk looking at Kara. She’d probably be angry if I stepped in. After all, she could handle her parents. I was the one who couldn’t handle their critical remarks about her.
I turned around without another word. Left the house. No coat, but the cold didn’t bother me. Not with the angry fire coursing through my veins.
Maybe later I’d regret my words. Maybe later I’d regret casting the relationship between me and my son’s grandparents, with Kara’s parents, with such a black mark.
Then again, maybe not.
I breathed the cold air in, not caring about the snow falling around me. It called me, offering a kind of clarity I hadn’t had before. Kara had never had people believe in her. I had, I did, but after so many years of being second-guessed and undermined, things made sense.
The way she was reluctant to tell me about Ryan. The way she avoided talking about her parents. The way she avoided pursuing her own passions, in favor of the familiar comfort at the Rattler.
But despite that, she still tried. Once I knew about Ryan, she set up our introduction. She backed me up when I gave Ryan instructions. She agreed to drive up here—with me—to see her parents. Once she opened up to trying, she put her whole soul behind the effort.
If I hadn’t frozen her out when I found out about Ryan, would she have put her soul into us?
With the icy wind blowing through the trees, the only sound outside, I came to the conclusion that yes, she would’ve. The woman I loved—had always loved—would have given me a real chance.
And I wanted it.
I wanted more than some person to fill a gap or even a family to fit into. I wanted Kara and our son and me to be together, whole.
I turned around to head inside and saw Kara standing in front of the shut door. She hadn’t bothered getting her jacket, hands folded in front of her, and I took a step, wanting nothing more than to take her into my own arms.
So I did. I closed the distance and pulled her against me. Whatever we were, nothing felt more right than having her heart inches from mine.
“You feeling okay?” she asked lightly. She pulled back slightly so she could look me in the eye.
“Never better.”
“Alright, because you seemed a bit upset in there, plus, you know, the whole storming out and brooding thing.”
For some reason, that made me grin.
“Kara, I’m going to kiss you,” I told her.
24. Kara
I blinked once in shock, and then his lips met mine.
It was a dizzying kiss. Once our mouths touched, I stopped feeling the snow falling on me and became oblivious to everything else. That was the word. Oblivion. The heat that passed between us scorched every part of me. My hands came behind his head, pulling him closer. His hair was wet from the snow, but that didn’t bother me at all. I’d have accepted anything about him if it meant I could pin him to me in that moment. I didn’t care we were on my parents's porch, didn’t care about anything except him.
Him. His mouth. His tongue. His body. And the way it made mine react. Like everything was falling into place, like I was tasting a bit of heaven.
The kiss wasn’t rushed. It was slow and languid and even more tender than that night in my apartment. It was like the kiss was made up of all our years of history, of all our love. It was like Lucas was saying something only for me and I could understand in a way words wouldn’t describe.
I don’t know how long it was before we broke, or who pulled away slightly first. At the loss of contact, I buckled slightly, though I didn’t have far to go from Lucas's embrace.
Then that all-consuming oblivion faded and I was left with confusion. Because unless I’d missed something, Lucas hadn’t been Team “Kiss Kara ‘til Her Knees Are Weak” for quite a few weeks. Now suddenly he was declaring he loved me and kissing me senseless.
“I don’t understand. I thought you were mad.”
He smiled down at me, a gentle, boyish smile. “I can be mad and you can be mad, but, Kara, none of it matters. We’re in this together and I want it to be that way.”
Confusion still twisted through me. He was saying nothing mattered and he wanted us to be together, and I desperately wanted to believe that.
“Look, it’s snowing and cold. It’s gotten late and I don’t think it’ll be safe to drive back to the city. Is there somewhere we can go?”
“There’s a bed and breakfast,” I said, thinking back. “Not far.”
“Let’s go,” Lucas said. Though he didn’t drop his arms.
We stood like that for another minute, maybe. Nothing was said. No one pulled away. But something passed between us until I was suddenly desperate to get somewhere private.
Eventually, we pulled away, almost in sync. Lucas pressed some button to start the car, insisting I wait inside while he cleared it off. Still stunned by the turn of events, I didn’t argue, just sat with my thoughts for the minute.
What was happening? That was my biggest question. One second I’m telling off my parents, hoping Lucas doesn’t hear us, the next second he’s beside me telling them off in his own right, supporting me. Not even offended on his own behalf, but chastising them for their treatment of me.
He’d said I was a good mother before. I desperately wanted to believe that. But the weight of it when he was saying it to my parents hit hard.
Then he’d left. I said a few words and followed him out, finding him staring into the distance.
And I was captivated all over again. The way the street light played off his features, the way his broad shoulders filled my vision. The way he could make anything make sense with the confident voice of his. I wanted him for my own. I wanted him for my family. I’d been too scared to claim him once, then too reluctant to trust he was back for real.
Then he embraced me. Kissed me. Said he loved me. And it was so much, so quickly. A wave beating against the last of my walls, breaking them down.
When Lucas came into the car—now quite toasty—and asked me which way we were headed I leaned over and kissed him again.
It was as tender as before. Warm, caring, hopeful. This time I felt more confident. Later we’d talk, we’d use words. Our expectations hadn’t matched before, no matter what we said, yet now I felt confident we understood each other on a fundamental level.
I pulled away first. Not because I wanted the kiss to end but because I needed to go somewhere with a door that we could lock behind us. Based on Lucas's own heavy breathing and straining jeans, he wanted the same thing.
I slid back into my seat. “Pull out to the left, head to the end of the street and we’re halfway there.” My breath was husky with want.
Less than ten minutes later, we pulled into the old bed and breakfast. It had once been a slightly large house, converted to accommodate people who needed a night away from their own home.
The woman in charge, the quiet sort you didn’t want to mess with, took her time getting the key to the only available room.
“I do trust one room is acceptable,” she said. Her voice was slow, creaky, but if I wasn’t mistaken, a bit teasing.
Lucas, more impatient
than I’d ever seen him, assured her the room with a single queen bed was absolutely fine. It took another full minute for her to hand over the key.
I guess it was kind of obvious what was happening. Neither of us had any luggage—this was meant to be a day trip. Or coats, because we’d left those in my parents's closet.
Then again, I didn’t care what she thought. Once she handed over the key, we wasted no time heading upstairs. Lucas pulled me in, and I kicked the door shut behind us.
Our clothes melted off seconds later. After that, Luke’s hands didn’t leave my body once. He led me over to the bed, trailing kisses down my neck, around to the base of my throat. My pulse pounded wildly, demanding I feel every inch of his naked body. His breath caught when I ran my fingers over his most sensitive flesh. I loved that. The way his body was affected by me, by my touch. The way I could tell without words what he wanted.
I gripped him firmly, feeling his arousal at my fingertips. His mouth didn’t stop moving, one moment at my jaw, then at my ear, nipping in response to my slow, languid teasing.
It was torture for us both. A sweet, slow torture. His hands found my own slick folds, and I moaned his name low.
“That’s it, baby,” he crooned. His words were tender and teasing, heavily underscored by his sensual desire. While his fingers played with me, I continued to pull him, feel him, until neither of us could stand anymore.
He slid into me easily, slowly, once. With his cock pushed to the hilt, he pulled out equally slowly.
Then again. And again.
Faster.
Harder.
My moans grew louder and louder, until they reached a crescendo. Lucas's own sounds of pleasure were equally unrestrained. My name spilled from his lips over and over like a prayer, praising me and making me crave him that much more.
We came together, freezing in a single moment of ecstasy while he released inside me. His warm seed coated my most intimate folds, striking a chord with some deep, primal desire. I didn’t process anything beyond the sensation of pleasure, of warmth and closeness and joy. Lucas collapsed on top of me, then off to the side, pulling me close to him. His breath was ragged, tickling the side of my neck.
