MAYBE BABY

by ANDREA SMITH

  I didn’t want to look up at him because I knew my eyes were red and my face splotchy from crying. He pulled me into his strong arms. I didn’t push back too much. He held me close and I melted. He put one of his hands behind my neck, capturing my ponytail and twisting it around his fingers gently. His other hand was on my back, gently rubbing and pressing me close to his heart.

  “Tylar,” his voice was gentle, but a little husky so I knew he was going to say something that would stir up my emotions. I was not real sure that I wanted him to, but I needed to figure out what this man was to me.

  “I’m sorry that I had to scratch Jezebel from the race this evening. But I will tell you this, if I had it to do over again, I would do nothing differently.”

  (Huh? What kind of a half-ass apology is that?)

  I looked up at him confused.

  “Come here,” he said, softly, as he moved over to the small sofa and sat down, stretching his long, well-muscled legs out, and pulling me on to his lap.

  I didn’t object; I curled up on his lap and my head rested against his chest, just underneath his chin.

  I didn’t want to look at him while he tried to explain his

  whole weirdness and over-protective bullshit to me. I knew that was what this was about.

  “I have a legal and fiduciary responsibility to this business we call Sinclair Stables and to my family who are the major shareholders in it," he started out.

  (Okay, this is not sounding romantic whatsoever.)

  "You were injured a little more than a week ago, and it was significant. As one of our employees I have a responsibility to make sure that your working environment is safe and relatively risk-free. There is a matter of liability involved.”

  (Objection: Confusion of Issues).

  “Apart from that,” he continued, I can’t get you out of my mind it seems. So this over-whelming concern that I have for your safety, had caused me to behave, in a sort of over-protective manner.”

  (You think?)

  “Why did you not want me to be in the race?” I questioned.

  He shifted me around a little, so that I was forced to look at his gorgeous face.

  “Because, Tylar, I was worried to death that you might fall, or get thrown. Those jockey caps offer very little protection. Please agree to pacify me when I make these requests of you that are only meant to keep you safe. It won’t be forever, I promise.”

  “What do I get in return?” I asked, giving him a coquettish smile.

  He grinned, dimpling me.

  “Hmm, let me think about that…how about you stay on my good side?”

  “And why is that important?” I countered.

  “Oh, Ms. Preston, or is it T.J.?” he grinned, “Being on my good side has all kinds of rewards.”

  “Show me,” I dared.

  (Did I really just say that?)

  He grew serious then.

  “I want to very much,” he responded. “But the last time you were less than pleased with me as I recall.”

  I felt myself blush. I had acted act like an idiot, and I couldn’t figure out why. I really loved his touch and his kisses. I was not going to explain because I couldn’t.

  “I’ve missed you, Trey,” I said simply, peering up at him from under my lashes.

  “I’ve missed you, too, baby.”

  He pulled me close and gently brushed his soft, warm lips against my check, then the tip of my nose, then brushed them across my forehead. I was lying across his lap, my head against the couch cushion. I boldly reached up, locking my hands together behind his head, pulling his face down to meet mine.

  Our lips met tenderly, sweetly, and the magic began. His lips worked mine expertly; our tongues met and explored each other with a gentle passion that was sexy and intimate. My hands fisted in his hair, loving the masculine feel and smell of him. I couldn’t get enough of him.

  I should have still been furious with him but I wasn't. I needed my ‘Trey fix’. Deep within my body, there was a sensation that I had never felt before. It was like an ache that needed relieving, an emptiness that needed filling, and a thirst that needed quenching. I wanted Trey in every way possible that a woman wanted a man, but I was not sure what that meant in my case.

  ‘Stop, whore’. I could hear my mom’s mocking voice. It was as if she was in the room with us right now. This was definitely killing the mood. I never wanted Trey to meet my mother. I never wanted him to see what she was, what I could become if I was not careful.

  Men expected certain things according to Mom. I was not sure I was able to give those things without turning into a younger version of my mother. That was what absolutely scared the shit out of me. That was what made me want to scream right now, to “stop.” I could not stop. If I did Trey would think I was some kind of a tease.

  ‘Well, aren’t you?’ My mom’s mocking voice reverberated in my mind. ‘After all, it was me that had to finish things with Daniel, didn’t I? You weren’t going to fuck him so I had to, right? You think little girl I didn’t know you were watching us from the doorway that night? You don’t think I enjoyed putting on that show for you, showing you how much more he wanted me than you?'

  I heard her cackle like a witch in my mind.

  'Don't worry. You bring Trey around so that I can meet him. I need to meet the boys you date, remember? You bring Trey around and I’ll show you how to fuck him properly.’

  “No…. stop!” I cried out.

  Trey lips froze on mine. Oh, God, it was happening again. I hated her for what she was putting me through in my mind.

  “Tylar, what is it?”

  He raised his face from mine. His eyes were searching mine for an answer that I was not equipped to supply. I hurt inside because of this. I owed him some explanation, but I couldn’t explain it myself. I knew what the fix was for my problem. I knew what it would take to get her out of my head and memory and make the dreams stop, once and for all.

  “Trey, I whispered hoarsely, “Will you fuck me?”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  It was out of my mouth before I realized how it had sounded. It was something that Jenna would have said; it is something that my mother had likely said many times; it is probably even something the gentile Charlotte might have said to Trey already.

  Perhaps he had taken her up on it. Perhaps that was why it seemed like an eternity since I had asked the question and had yet to receive a response. Perhaps if I continued to mull around these various ‘perhaps’ scenarios I could avoid the obvious which was that Trey had not responded to my request.

  Oh, God! I was afraid to look at him. I was now totally humiliated, embarrassed, and ashamed of myself.

  “Tylar,” he said softly, “Look at me.”

  I didn’t want to. If I did, I knew that he would see what I already knew. I was a fucked-up mess, incapable of being what he wanted, or what any man would ever want for that matter. I was damaged goods, but still a virgin. How in the hell did that happen?

  “Look at me,” he said more firmly this time.

  I was still on his lap. I had buried my head against his chest when more than thirty seconds had passed after the invitation for Trey to fuck me had gone unanswered. I reluctantly raised my head from his chest, wiping the tears that again had spilled. I looked at him. He wiped a rolling tear from my check with his thumb.

  “Do you want to tell me what’s going on with you?” he questioned softly.

  “I really don’t know, Trey,” I answered honestly. “Please, forget what I just said. I know how trashy that sounded, and I can’t understand what prompted me to behave like this with you, or with anyone for that matter.”

  I was sniffling now.

  “I see,” he replied. “Well, I’m not a virgin, Tylar,” so I’m not insulted by your proposition, just caught off guard by your bluntness I suppose.”

  I hoped that meant that he had not found the notion totally distasteful.

  “I’ve never said that sort of thing to anyone before,” I adm
itted, sheepishly.

  “I guessed that, Tylar,” he replied with a slight smile.

  “Can I ask you kind of a personal question, Trey?”

  “Ask away, if it’s none of your business, I have no problem telling you that.”

  “Has any other . . . girl, I mean woman ever been, uh, that blunt with you before?”

  “Not in my recent recollection,” he answered.

  Oh that was good; that was the lawyer coming out. Leave room for the possibility it may have happened, there just wasn’t any current recollection. I had another, even more personal question but wasn’t sure how to approach this one.

  “Can I ask you another personal question, Trey?”

  “Yes, same rules apply, though.”

  “Are you and Charlotte – I mean, well, are you two, intimate?"

  “Why would you even ask a question like that?”

  “I know, it’s way personal… all you have to say is that it’s none of my business like we agreed,” I said, blushing.

  “No,” he laughed good-naturedly, and continued, “I mean how you could think I would want to make love with Charlotte?”

  Oh, I was now relieved for a couple of reasons: first, that he hadn’t done her, secondly, that he referred to sex as “making love,” not a term that I was familiar with in my crowd I suppose. I smiled to myself, happy.

  “What?” he asked, obviously curious as to my changed demeanor.

  “Nothing,” I replied, sheepishly. "Trey could we forget any of this happened? The truth is, I've really not been myself since the accident in the pool. I'm not making

  excuses, but even I shocked myself just now. You are right when you said it takes some time to fully recover. I should have listened to you earlier. I’m sorry that I overdid it and took risks today.”

  He cocked an eyebrow, considering whether I was genuinely contrite, or simply trying to save face since it was obvious that I had received no answer from him to my request.

  “I’ll tell you what,” he said smoothly. “Why don’t we both forget it, just for now?”

  He smoothed my ponytail, and gently tugged on it a couple of times, kissing my forehead.

  “Okay?”

  I nodded affirmatively. He certainly had left me with some pride, and I was appreciative of that.

  “Now, why don’t you scoot off to the shower, and get ready for bed? I’ll stay out here and watch television until you’re ready. I want to make sure that you are safely put to bed and no monsters are lingering in the shadows, okay?”

  I started to protest, feeling really childish and needy, but he held up his hand to stifle any response I was considering.

  “Ah,” he cautioned, “I believe you agreed to humor me in my over-protective ways with you, remember?”

  He could be so playful at times, and I liked it. I smiled and gave him a quick peck on the cheek, shifting around to launch myself out of his lap. I realized after it was too late – as he groaned audibly – that he had a nice erection going and I had caused him a bit of pain in extricating myself that way from his lap. My hand flew up over my mouth. Oh my god. How much worse could I be to this man?

  “Sorry,” I mouthed the word, quickly turning and feeling a little bit better that at least I knew he found me “erection-worthy”.

  I giggled silently to myself.

  I felt safer with Trey in the cottage with me while I bathed. I knew that I had not left my cottage unlocked or interior lights on prior to leaving for the track.

  I realized that a couple of people had probably been in and out the last week while I was in the hospital getting this or that for me. How many keys were floating around to this cottage?

  I went to the bathroom and decided I wanted another bubble bath. It was more relaxing than a shower before bed. I turned the water on, got the temperature where I liked it, pouring the Calgon along with the bubble bath into the tub. .

  I sank into the luxurious bubble bath and it felt glorious. I lathered up my bath sponge and washed myself squeaky clean. I emptied the tub and towel dried my freshly washed skin. I rolled deodorant under my arms, finished dressing, brushed and flossed. I was bed ready.

  Pulling my robe on, I went from the bathroom into the bedroom, turning on the window A/C to cool the room. My sheets were clean and fresh from the laundry. My bed was made up. I folded the quilt back and in that moment there was no doubt that someone had been in my cottage.

  Trey was instantly by my side within seconds after hearing my scream.

  “What is it, Tylar?” he demanded, spinning me around to face his concerned gaze.

  “On the bed,” I choked.

  He turned to look and picked up the two blue velvet boxes, opening one that contained a pair of pearl drop earrings, and the other one that held a beautiful gold necklace with a single tear-drop pearl attached to it.

  “I don’t understand,” he turned to look at me, a puzzled expression on his face.

  “This jewelry, it’s not yours?” he questioned.

  I shook my head back and forth, but my response didn’t match.

  “They were mine,” I explained, “My mom gave them to me the night of my senior high school prom. She said that they had been the only gifts to her that my dad had ever given her. She said she wanted me to have them now."

  “Go on,” Trey encouraged.

  “I wore them that night, to the prom with my boyfriend, Daniel.”

  I noticed Trey’s head snap up when I mentioned ‘Daniel’s’ name.

  “I don’t remember a lot about that night because, well,” I blushed with embarrassment, “There were these after-prom parties, you know. I got drunk; threw up all over myself. Daniel took me home and carried me into my house. I never saw the necklace or earrings after that. I was afraid to tell Mom that I had lost them at least that is what I thought had happened up until now. Trey, these are even the same velvet boxes she had them in when she gave them to me.”

  “This makes no sense to me,” Trey said. “I mean I understand about prom parties, getting drunk and losing things, but are you sure that these might not have been stowed away? Maybe in that trunk over there that’s hanging open?”

  I glanced over to where he was pointing to the trunk that contained my riding clothes.

  “Well even if that were true,” I argued, “how would they have ended up under the quilt and not just on top of the bed? Trust me I know these were not in the trunk.”

  I was becoming more upset.

  Trey sat down on my bed and pulled me down next to him. I knew that he wanted to provide a reasonable explanation for the appearance of the jewelry boxes from my past. He wanted me to consider all of the possibilities. I knew that there was only one.

  “Tylar are you absolutely sure that there is no other way the jewelry could have gotten in your cottage then

  by someone other than you?”

  His eyes searched mine.

  “I can’t be sure of anything these days, Trey. I feel like I am going crazy. It scares me.”

  In two seconds I was enfolded in his strong arms, feeling his warmth around me, keeping me safe.

  “Trey?” I asked shakily. “Will you please stay here tonight?”

  “You know that I will, baby.”

  Relief flooded over me. I knew that I could sleep if he was nearby.

  “Tomorrow morning, I am having the locks on your cottage re-keyed.”

  He got no argument from me on that score.

  Trey put me into bed, tucking me inside the covers, and gave me a quick peck on the cheek. That was not going to get it for me.

  “Trey,” I looked up at him, smiling meekly, “Aren’t you coming to bed, too?”

  He looked uncomfortable. Perhaps he thought I was being forward again.

  “Tylar,” he replied earnestly, “It might be better if I crashed out on your couch.”

  Oh, I got it, he felt pressured because of what I had said earlier. He didn’t trust me. He thought I was pulling a fast one on him. I turne
d over and faced the wall with the air conditioner.

  “Good night,” I said to him. “There are blankets and an extra pillow in the closet.”

  He grabbed the bedding, turning out my overhead light and closed the door softly behind him. I heard the low voices from the television and Trey trying to settle in on the couch for the night. He wasn’t going to be too comfortable on that couch I realized. It was made for a shorter person. A smile formed on my lips as I drifted off to sleep.

  A thunderstorm blew in during the night. I heard the loud clapping of thunder, and heavy rain pelting the cottage from all directions. It appeared that the electricity had gone out because my A/C unit was now quiet. I couldn’t see the illuminated numbers on my digital alarm clock radio. I could only see flashes of lightning outside the bedroom window. Loud thunderous clapping followed within seconds of each flash.

  I was scared and I was not sure why.

  Thunderstorms had never been a particular fear of mine before. I crawled tentatively out from beneath my covers, trying to get my eyes adjusted to the dark. The only light to guide me was the sporadic flash of lightning that came through the bedroom window. It was enough. I was going out into the living room and climb on that couch with Trey. I didn’t give a damn how much he protested. I did not want to be alone during this storm. I needed his strong arms around me.

  I felt around for my bathrobe that had been lying across the bed. I found it and shrugged it on. The next flash of lightning guided me toward the door, allowing me to see the knob so that I could turn it.

  I felt my way through the kitchenette, making my arrival into the living room. Another flash of lightning served to illuminate the room. The couch was empty. No blanket, no pillow, no Trey. What the hell? I hurried to the front door, opening the big wooden door. I peered out from behind the screen door to see if perhaps he was out on my porch. Nothing there either.

  I noticed that the other cottages still had electricity. I could see their porch lights illuminated. Where had Trey gone? Why had he left me alone in this darkened cottage?