“Where you heading?”
“To get something to eat. Craving pancakes.”
I grinned, trying to break whatever the awkward tension between us. “If you have the ingredients… I can make you some.”
For some reason, her shoulders seemed to sag in relief, and she gave me a grateful smile. “I think I might.”
“Well… what are we waiting for, come on.”
Stepping past her into the apartment, I put the plant in its usual spot by the window, then took off my coat and hung it up. Viv had closed the front door, but was still standing by it, so I tugged her out of her coat too. “What’s wrong with you?” I asked, pulling her into the kitchen so I could start taking down ingredients.
“Nothing.” Viv shook her head and smiled, but her tone was unconvincing. Leaning against the counter, she took a deep breath, then said, “So… turned into a busy day for you?” She was trying to sound casual, but her words held an edge of desperation that made my heart clench.
I turned to her, and the note of fear in her eyes confirmed my suspicion. “You thought I wasn’t coming back…”
Immediately, her eyes welled up as she nodded. “It’s completely psycho, I know. I just… I texted you a few times today, and I called, and I haven’t heard from you, and it just… it reminded me so much of that first day that Darren disappeared before he came back engaged, and I just… I guess I just convinced myself of the worst.”
“Viv…” I reached for her, pulling her close against my chest for a moment before I picked her up, placing her on the edge of the counter. I stood between her legs, tipping up her chin so her teary gaze could meet mine. “That shit isn’t happening, okay? Not here. I… I got scared. That’s just what happened. And I fucked up, for so many reasons. But… I’ve gotta put that shit to the side. I know it’s hard to trust that when I haven’t been open with you, baby, but believe me… I’m trying.”
She nodded, pulling her top lip between her teeth. “I know.” She lifted her hands, running them through my locs before burying her fingers at the base of my neck. “I saw you… that night at Urban Grind. Eddie filmed it with his phone, and showed me the video. So… I know.”
A heavy feeling dropped into my stomach, and for a fleeting moment, I wanted to pull away and withdraw, knowing that she’d heard everything. Like… everything. All of the fears, all of the insecurities, everything I worked damn hard not to show. But the tears in her eyes held me in place. I couldn’t do that to her, so instead… I looked at the bright side.
I mimicked the way she was holding on to me, burrowing my fingers into her hair too as I looked her in the eyes. “Then… you should know that I love you, right?” Several tears escaped as she nodded, and I wiped them away with my thumbs. “And… you know that it’s not just some shit I’m saying, right? I for real love you. No faking, no hiding. You understand that, right?”
Without giving her a chance to respond, I kissed her, hoping that if my words weren’t convincing her, this would. I poured everything into it, and when we finally pulled back, out of breath and panting, she nodded again. “I love you too.”
I smiled, then propped my forehead against hers, feeling suddenly drained. “Your hair is damp,” I said, breaking the silence that had fallen between us. “You were going out in the cold with damp hair?” I pulled back, then slowly unzipped her knee-length boots and pulled them from her feet.
“I just took a shower. Am I in trouble?” she grinned, wiping the last of the tears from her eyes as I reached under her thick sweater dress to pull her leggings and panties from her waist. She lifted her hips so I could get them over her legs.
Smirking, I tossed the clothes to the floor and stepped between her legs. “Would you like to be?”
She bit her lip as I slid my fingers inside her, and scooted closer to the edge, inviting me in deeper. “Maybe.” With handfuls of my locs clutched in her fingers, she tugged me down to kiss me as she rocked her hips against my hand.
“You sure you don’t wanna stop to eat? You seemed pretty hungry.”
“No,” she said, then leaned back on her hands, spreading her legs wider. “You can eat though.”
A slow smile spread over my face as I caught her meaning. “Oh, I can, huh? Right here in the kitchen?”
“Is that not what kitchens are for?” she asked innocently, eyes wide, as she sat up, running her hands over the bulge in the front of my jeans. She made quick work of freeing me from my pants, and then I was in her hands, painfully hard as she dipped her fingers in her own wetness, then used that to begin stroking me. “Perhaps… I can find us a little chocolate?”
“As good as that sounds, I just wanna be inside you right now.”
With one hand still wrapped around me, Viv draped the other arm over my shoulder and leaned forward to whisper into my ear. “What are you waiting for?”
Not a damned thing. She guided me inside of her, moaning as I burrowed as far as I could. I yanked her dress over her head, and that went on the floor too after I kicked my way out of my shoes and pants without removing myself from her body. She leaned back on her hands again as I pulled off my own shirt, then lifted her legs to wrap around my hips.
She stayed like that, with her lip between her teeth, breasts bouncing, watching as I disappeared into her over and over again. “Goddamn, Frenchy. Do you have any idea how fucking beautiful you look like this?”
“Call me that again,” she said in a throaty whisper, looking up at me through half-lidded eyes.
“Beautiful?”
She shook her head, then draped an arm around my neck to pull her herself up, so her chest was flush against mine. “No.” Her eyes were glossy again, and for a moment I was near-panicked, wondering what I had said or done. She gave me a soft, lingering kiss, then said, “Say my name again.”
“Oh.” I grinned, pulling her closer as she ground her hips against mine. “I love you, Frenchy.”
She smiled. “I love you too, Carter.”
Questions. I had so, so many questions for Carter, but the last thing I wanted to do was overwhelm him, right after he’d just given me so much. He told me he loved me, and then he made love to me, and then he made me those pancakes he’d promised. Now, we were in my bed, and Carter’s head was resting on my chest. Neither of us had said anything for a long while, and I thought maybe he was asleep, but then he spoke.
“I talked to my mom today,” he said, lifting his head to look at me. “While I was at the hospital.” I nodded, but said nothing, and he lifted an eyebrow. “That’s a big deal, Frenchy.”
Again, I nodded. “I’m glad. I’m happy for you… I think?”
“You think?” he asked, lifting an eyebrow.
I gave him a little smile. “Carter… I do not really know the story, so I don’t know if you talking to your mother is a good thing or not. I’m hoping that it is?”
He dropped his head. “Yeah… it is.”
“I am sorry,” I said, running my hands through his locs. “I did not mean to ruin your news. I just… I did not want to have the wrong reaction, since I do not know—“
“Viv,” he lifted his head again, then pulled himself up so that we were at eye level with each other. “I’m sorry. It’s not like you can know something I haven’t shared with you… right?”
“Right.” I brought my hand up to cup his face. “I know that it is hard for you to open up, but I want you to know that you can with me. I want to know you, Carter. The real Carter.”
He scoffed. “Come on, Viv. You do know me.”
“Uh-uh. I know the Carter on the exterior. I want to know the real Carter. I want to know your stories, and your frustrations, and the things that you don’t want anybody else to know. I want to know the scared little boy you talked about in your poem, and the scared grown man you talked about too. I already know this,” — I waved my hand over him — “Carter. I want to know this,” — I placed my hand over his heart — “Carter. The one you keep tucked away for no one else to see.
You are safe with me. I promise.”
He smiled, taking my face in his hands to pull me into a kiss. “I know.”
“Good. And don’t you ever forget.”
“I won’t,” he chuckled.
Then, he pulled me into his arms, keeping me pressed close as he told me about the talk with his mom, which led into a full-blown history of their past. He talked about tense moments growing up with a father who didn’t understand him — something I could certainly relate to, and made me cry explaining why celebrating my birthday was so important to him — because he knew how it felt to be overlooked by your parents on that day.
Slowly, I realized the truth in Simone’s words, that Carter wasn’t who he appeared to be at all. The more I learned, the more layers he dug up for me… the more I fell in love. And it wasn’t pity for him, not at all. Yes, he’d had a hard road as a child, but it was the fact that even though this was hard for him, even though these memories hurt… he was baring his soul to me, because he recognized that I needed it. He was putting his entire self on the line to regain my trust, and my heart was so full I thought it might burst.
“You don’t have to do this,” I said, placing my fingers over his lips to stop him. “Not all at once, not right now.”
“Are you sure? Because—”
“Yes, Carter. I am sure. I… I understand. You don’t have to drain yourself like this, not for me. If it is helpful for you, by all means, continue, but… I just want you to know you can be open with me. “
He nodded, then laid back on the bed with a tired, heavy sigh. “I know. And… I can, but damn… this shit is draining, you know? And a lot easier said than done.”
“Of course. It always is. Kind of like not falling for someone who only wants to be your friend,” I teased. “You know… you said some really beautiful things about me in that poem.” I turned onto my stomach, positioning myself close enough to plant a kiss against his lips.
He buried his hand in my hair, keeping me pulled close. “I feel some really beautiful things for you.”
“The feeling is mutual… but unintended.”
“Yeah, I didn’t mean to love you either, Frenchy. But I do,” he said, kissing the faint scar on my forehead from a night that seemed like a lifetime ago. Being with him like this… this incredibly simple moment … this was love. Not the unwitting infatuation of a young girl with a man old enough to be her father, or the desperate contentment of a defeated woman with a man who barely even made her smile. This, me and Carter, sharing kisses that still tasted like pancakes… this was it.
“I love you too.”
It felt like second nature this time.
There was no worry, no doubts, as Viv and I ventured forward, together. For real together. As in, she was mine. Mine. And that wasn’t on any possessive, she had to do what I said type of shit, but knowing that I had her heart — and she gave it willingly, generously — man, it worked wonders for being able to offer her the same. When we were together, it just flowed. No awkward moments, no uncomfortable silence, just the kind of easy, organic peace that came from being with somebody you loved, who loved you in return.
It was nothing to go grocery shopping together, for me to sit at her counter working on a program while she tested a recipe, or what we were doing today— visiting Roman and Simone and their new baby— as a couple.
“That’s dangerous, man.”
I looked up as Roman approached, clapping me on the shoulder as he sat down beside me at his kitchen counter. When I gave him a confused lift of my eyebrow, he inclined his head to where Simone and Viv were sitting in the living room. Viv had their nearly six week old son, Roman Jr. — RJ — cradled in her arms, smiling at him as he looked up at her. Both of their eyes held the same look of wonder, and it made a tightness that wasn’t exactly foreign bloom in my chest.
Chuckling, I shook my head. “Yeah… I see what you mean.”
“I’m already trying to think of how to talk her into another one, but she said some shit about how she couldn’t believe I was asking that when I wasn’t even invited back to do the things that make a baby yet.” He laughed, then turned back to me with a serious expression. “This is… this shit is incredible man, for real. Finding somebody to love, bringing your family to life.”
I nodded, but didn’t say anything. My eyes were still focused on Viv holding RJ, and it made me wonder what she would look like pregnant with our baby, holding our baby, loving our baby… making up for the mistakes of our own parents.
Later, when we were back in Viv’s apartment, making love for the second time that night, I cupped her face as I hovered over her, still buried inside her. “Can we have a baby?”
Her blissful expression shifted to confusion and fear as she met my gaze. “Carter… you cannot be serious. We have been back together for less than two weeks!”
“Not right now,” I said soothingly, brushing her hair from her face as I laughed. “I probably should have led with that, I’m sorry. I mean, later. Much later. I’m asking if you want kids.”
She lifted an eyebrow. “You realize that while you are inside of me, this is a problematic question to ask, no?”
“I do. I’m sorry.” I still couldn’t help but chuckle. “You should see your face.”
“I can imagine that it is very pissed off,” she said, even though she started laughing too. “But… yes. If we are able to maintain our love, and if we get married… I would love to have children some day.”
“Okay. Okay,” I nodded. “I just… it’s important to me, so…”
“Carter… I understand. I love you.”
I smiled, dropping to give her a kiss. “I love you too.”
“Now,” she said, bringing her hands up to my face. “Can I have my orgasm please?”
— & —
— 7 months later —
— (Roman & Simone’s Wedding) —
Viv was still mad at me. If her cursing me out — in French, which somehow made it worse — weren’t enough of an indication, the fact that she didn’t even look at me, didn’t even shoot me a smile as I escorted Simone down the aisle definitely made it clear.
When I sat down, after handing Simone off to Roman, I stared at her until she shifted uncomfortably under my gaze. Finally, she glanced at me.
Got her.
She wasn’t that mad, couldn’t be, not with that smile playing at the corners of her mouth, threatening to break free. She couldn’t even stay serious long enough for me to take her seriously, now that I was staring at her, in a way that made it very obvious that I wanted her. Damn, I wanted her. I hadn’t been with her in a week, after flying to help Rod get settled into his on-campus apartment to start his first semester of college. I’d missed my flight back, and it took a whole day to get another one because of delays, which almost made me late for the wedding. That was the first reason she was mad at me.
The second was because as gorgeous as Frenchy looked in her maid of honor gown… she looked a little bit rounder than usual in the middle, and I — idiotically — got a bit overexcited. So, the first thing I did, after not seeing her for a week, was to gently rest my hand against her belly, hoping she could see the unasked question in my eyes.
Short answer — yes. Yes, she did, and my ears were still ringing from the cursing she gave me then, and again thirty minutes later when I called to tell her everything was ready for the bride. She was pissed. But now, with all the love in the air between Roman and Simone as they exchanged their vows, she had softened. When I found her in the reception hall after the wedding, she let me pull her into my arms as Jill Scott and Anthony Hamilton sang So In Love in the background.
“I should still be mad at you,” she said, weaving a little on her feet from one too many glasses of whatever I’d spotted her drinking with Eddie at the open bar. “You called me fat.”
I chuckled. “I didn’t. I just… got a little carried away. You know I think you’re beautiful, right?”
“Whatever,” she said,
even though she smiled.
“Seriously… you don’t doubt that, right?”
She gave me a slow, deliberate shake of her head. “No. You can be beautiful and fat.”
“I know that.”
“So I’m noticing that you keep reminding me that I’m beautiful… but no assurance that you don’t think I look fat.” She raised an eyebrow.
“I don’t,” I insisted, sucking my teeth when she grinned to let me know she was playing. “Your belly was just a little round, so I was hoping… you know.”
“I am bloated Carter. We are not trying for that, remember? Not until after you and I do this,” — she gestured around us— , “And who knows when that will be?”
I fought back a grin, thinking about the platinum set diamond ring I’d purchased with my first check from freelance programming, which I planned to give her later that same night, when we were back in our apartment, alone. “Right. But… you mentioned that you were late, so I thought maybe… To be honest, I hoped maybe…”
“In due time,” she said, smiling. “And to be honest… I may have hoped a little too. But… I got a negative pregnancy test result this morning, and of course my period showed up right after that. The morning of the wedding, of all times.” She shook her head, then wrapped her arms around my waist, pressing herself against my chest. “I was a little sad.”
“Don’t be.” I kissed the top of her head as I pulled her tight. “We’ve got time.”
— the end —
I would love you know what you thought about Viv and Carter’s story! You can share with me by leaving a review, visiting me at my website http://www.BeingMrsJones.com/ (you can email me there from the contact page), liking my Facebook page, at https://www.Facebook.com/BeingMrsJones or connecting with me on Twitter, at @BeingMrsJones.
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Other titles by Christina Jones:
Love and Other Things
Didn't Mean To Love You (Serendipitous Love Book 2) Page 19
