by Olivia Howe
“Let’s get out of here,” he says, his eyes still on mine.
I nod and grab his hand as he helps me up. I’m burning for him inside, needing to feel him all around me.
***
Mark and I go back to my apartment. Our clothes are off before I can slam the front door. He picks me up and throws me over his shoulders. I let out a yelp. I wasn’t expecting that!
He lays me down onto the bed gently then glides his body up mine. “I’m going to make love to you,” he whispers in my ear.
That was the cutest thing any man has ever said to me. Instead of fucking tonight, we’re going to make love…
***
“Mandi,” Adam says with a tired voice.
“I’m here. I’m writing.”
Footsteps come out of the bedroom in my direction. “I woke up and you were gone.”
I look up at him. He looks so tired. I shut my laptop. “Let’s go back to bed, babe.”
He wraps his arms around me, cradling me like a baby, and then carries me to bed. We pull the blankets over us, his arms never leaving mine.
***
The hospital is busy the next morning. Nurses and doctors are running around everywhere. I overhear them talking about a five-car pileup at an intersection, so I try to stay out of their way as much as possible.
I find the nurse’s station and wait patiently for the redheaded nurse to conclude her phone call. “I’m looking for Mickey Laputo’s room.”
“Room 316, in the cardiac wing.”
“Thank you.” She smiles and nods, getting back on the phone.
I find room 316 and take a deep breath before entering.
Mickey is sitting up, flipping through the TV stations. “Mandi!”
“Hey, Mick. How are you feeling?” I set aside the flowers I brought him. “You scared the shit out of me.”
“Thank you, sweetheart. I’m so sorry you had to see that. I’m fine. They won’t let me outta this place though.”
“You need to rest, Mickey.”
“Enough about me. How are you doing?” That’s Mickey—never wanting to talk about himself. He’s always worried about everyone else when he should be worrying about his health.
“I’m fine. Book is coming along great. Adam and I are happy. Now, back to you. Where’s your daughter?”
He shakes his head, like he still doesn’t want to talk about himself. “She went to the cafeteria. I’m so happy she’s here. She’s going to be staying for a couple weeks to help me out.”
“That’s good. I’m happy she’s here for you. If you need anything at all, you know you can count on me.”
“Darling, enough worrying about this old man. I’m a fighter.” He laughs. It’s nice to see him back to his old self.
“I’m glad you’re okay.” I hug him tight. “You’ve always been like the grandfather I’ve never had. Thank you for everything, Mick.” I speak the truth. My father’s and mother’s dads weren’t ever around. They died when I was younger. I met my mom’s father a few times, but I was so young I can barely remember the encounters. My father’s dad died when I was just a baby.
He sniffles. “You’re gonna make me cry. I’m always here for you, sweetheart. You’re like the granddaughter I never had.” We both burst into laughter. “Is Adam ready for his big fight?”
I sit in the chair next to the hospital bed. “He’s been training every day. I know he can do this.”
“All you gotta have is a little faith.”
I smile. He always knows the right things to say in every moment.
A short, dark-haired woman walks through the door carrying food. “Daddy, I got you a turkey sandwich on rye.”
I stand up. I’ve never met this woman before, but she looks just like Mickey. “Elsa?”
“You must be Mandi.” She puts her hand out to shake mine. “It’s so nice to meet you. I’ve heard so much about you.”
I shake her hand. “Your dad has talked you up a storm, too.”
“Thank you so much for always being there for my dad. It means a lot.” She hands Mickey the sandwich. She’s beautiful. She reminds me of Selena Gomez.
“It’s no problem. He’s always been there for me, too.”
“You two girls are silly. Enough about me,” Mickey interrupts.
“Well, I should be going.”
“So soon?” Elsa asks.
“This young woman is going to be a famous novelist one day. You mark my words.” Mickey is always giving me compliments.
“I believe you, Dad. Good luck, Mandi. I hope to see you soon.” Elsa leans in for a hug, catching me off guard.
“Mickey, you be good.”
“Always am, darling.”
Walking home is refreshing. Life is good right now. Everything is almost perfect. How could I be so lucky? If you would have asked me a month ago if I was happy, I would have said no, hell no. But now, I’m very happy. I have Adam and Mickey, two cats, plus a career that is going to take off when I get this book done soon.
It’s safe to say I’m content with my life. I hope this happiness lasts forever.
CHAPTER 14
I WALK INTO MY BOSS’S OFFICE. Barbara has left me waiting for at least an hour now. What the hell has she been doing all this time?
“Sorry,” is all she says when I walk through her door.
“It’s fine, I guess. I’ve only been waiting an hour.” I shouldn’t be snapping at my editor, but she gets on my nerves.
“I’ve read through the pages you emailed to me. I love the rock star twist to it. I wasn’t expecting that. You said you would have a new chapter for me to read today. Do you?”
I open my purse and take out the printed pages. “It’s still rough, but here it is.”
“Give me a moment to read it.”
“Now?” I ask, shocked. She’s going to make me wait longer, it seems. At least this time she’ll be reading my work.
“Yes, now.”
I watch her facial expression intently, hoping to get her approval on the way I’m taking my story. The thing is, with all writers, we look for opinions from others to improve our work. That’s why we love reviews on Amazon and other online retailers and blogs. It’s like gold to us—good or bad. It lets us know if we’re doing something wrong so we can change it, or doing something right, so we can continue it.
It takes her ten minutes to read through the last ten pages I wrote; I think I see her read through it twice.
Barbara sets the papers aside. “Mm-hmm.”
“Mm-hmm? That’s it?”
Her smile makes all my worries disappear. “I love it, Mandi.”
“Really?” Another thing with writers: when someone likes our work, you’ll hear that word a lot.
“Yes, really. Like I said, the rock star twist was the right topping this story needed. Now, have you thought about the conflict of the novel? The ending?”
I sigh. I hate all these questions, only because I don’t really know the answer to them. “It’s hard to say. I know where this story is going per se, but I don’t know where it’s going to end up.”
One eyebrow rises on her face. That’s not a good sign. “Mandi, you should know where the book is going to end up. Are they going to be together? Is it going to be a happily ever after? Are you going to kill both of the characters in a tragic car accident? Figure it out.”
“I’m trying. I really am working on it, Barbara.” She drives me nuts.
“Have you written out an outline?” Obviously she knows the answer to her own question. Why ask?
I shake my head.
“I want more in a week via email. I know I’m hard on it, but it’s because I really believe in this novel. You have a deadline to meet, and I’m here to make sure you meet it.”
“I know.”
“Go write. You have one week to get me more. Don’t forget.” You wouldn’t let me if I did forget.
I’m glad she loves the story, though. My characters mean the world to me, and I want readers
to fall in love with them. This is a process, I know, but I can’t be pushed to write. My characters are going to take me on the path they desire, when they desire. It can’t be rushed.
***
I’m surprised when I get home. Adam’s in the kitchen wrapping up a feast he’s made for us for dinner. It’s the last thing I was expecting. I wonder if he remembers that my birthday is tomorrow. I’m going to be the big twenty-nine years old! I know one thing is for sure: I’m not going to mention it. I want to see if he does.
“Hey, love. I was going to try to surprise you with a candlelight dinner, but you came home sooner than I thought you would.” Adam looks sad. Poor thing. Spent all this time in the kitchen—rushing—to try and surprise me.
“You did surprise me. It smells wonderful in here. What are you cooking?” The scent is addicting. I didn’t know he knew how to cook.
“Chicken Alfredo. This used to be our favorite. Do you remember? We used to have my mother make this every time you stayed for dinner, which was most of the time.”
Adam does remember the little things. I’m sure he won’t forget about my birthday. “How could I forget? But the real question is can you make it like your mother?”
“Nothing beats Mom’s cooking.”
“I agree.”
I set my purse down on the counter and pull up a seat to the island in the kitchen.
“How was your meeting with Barbara? That’s her name, right?”
“Yes, that’s her name. It went well. She loves the story, addicted to the characters…”
“But…?”
How’d he know? He knows me too well, that’s how.
“But she’s driving me nuts. She wants more within a week, and she keeps asking me where the story is going to go and how it’s going to end. I can’t answer all of these questions right now. I just want to write and let my characters take me where they want to take me.”
“Well, she is your publisher, babe. That’s her job to nag you. But, you’re very right. She should give you room to let you do your thing. You’ve come this far without being able to answer those questions. And look, she loves it.” It’s nice to know he’s on my side and thinks I’m in the right about this situation.
“Enough talk about Barbara. When’s dinner ready? I’m starving!”
“Ten minutes, love.”
Hearing him call me love brings all these questions flooding my mind. Before I get heartbroken, I should know where this thing between us is going, right? We’ve been seeing each other for like a month now and getting intimate. I should be able to ask him questions. Is he going to live here with me? Are we officially together? Are we going to do the whole long-distance thing?
Here it goes. “Can I ask you something?”
“Anything.” He concentrates on cooking. I don’t think I would be able to ask my question if he made eye contact with me. Every time I look into those eyes, all I want to do is melt.
“So, are we official?”
“Like officially together?” This time, he makes eye contact with me.
I bite my lip shyly. “Yes.”
“Yes, we are, aren’t we?”
Why does he keep answering my questions with a question?
“Yes. But, you live so far away, Adam. It’s not like we can drive an hour and see each other.”
“Well, do you want me to move here?”
“Of course I do, but I don’t want to pressure you. Isn’t your training place there? Your career?” I hate to turn into this nag of a woman. I’ve never wanted to be like this, but I need to know.
“Babe, my life is wherever you are now. Do you understand? You are my life. My career will be where I am. My team can come here. They won’t care. I have nothing back in South Carolina. Everything I need is right here in Chicago with you.” Adam walks over to the counter and pulls me in for a hug. “I’m not leaving you, Mandi. I know that’s what you’re worried about. I promise you I won’t ever leave you.”
“Promise?” I look up into his eyes.
“I love you, Mandi. I’ve always loved you.” He says the three words I’ve been dying to hear. He loves me. For so long I’ve been waiting for him to utter those small three words. Now he finally has.
“I love you, too, Adam. You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting to hear you say that,” I admit.
He grabs my thigh without hesitation, like he owns me. It sends goosebumps crawling up my body.
Adam grabs my waist, pulling me close. He looks into my eyes like he’s searching for something special. Then, with hungry eyes, he looks at my lip, while biting his own. Looking back at my eyes, he grabs my face gently and slowly leans in to kiss me. Our lips lock, and I want to live in this moment forever. I love how dominant he is. It drives me wild. He knows exactly the right way to push all my buttons—in a good way.
His lips leave mine. I’m left speechless and mesmerized.
“Sit your cute ass at the table and I’ll serve you.”
“You mean the bedroom?” He looks at me and winks.
“It’s not time for dessert yet. Patience, my love.”
“Say you love me again.” I want nothing more than to hear those words roll off his tongue.
“I love you, Miss Mandi Gale. Always have, always will.”
***
Adam and I sit down at the kitchen table. A red candle burns between us. The light from the candle glares off Adam’s face, making it shimmer. He’s so damn sexy and handsome and sweet and a gentleman. I’m so lucky to have him back in my life.
“So, when are you going to let me read your novel?” Adam asks.
What kind of a question is that?
“Not until it’s finished.” I twirl my fork around in my pasta and shove a forkful in my mouth.
“Just the beginning? Or a passage? Something? Anything?” He can tell by my face what the answers to those questions are.
“No. No. No. And no.”
“Please.” He resorts to the puppy-dog face, bringing a smile to my face.
“Adam John Wilson, are you using the puppy-dog face on me?” I ask, the smile never leaving my face.
“Mandi Carol Gale, yes. I am.”
I can’t help but laugh. He gave me a taste of my own medicine. “You’re cute, but I’m not letting you read my novel until it’s finished.”
“What, is it bad luck or something?” he asks, continuing to eat.
“I don’t know. But I’m not willing to find out.” I wink.
We both finish up our meals but I stay at the table, staring at Adam with one eyebrow raised.
“What?” He smiles but looks utterly confused.
“Where’s my dessert?” I bite my lip, pulling it slightly inside my mouth.
“Naughty girl.”
He throws his napkin on the table and picks me up. As he sets me down in front of the counter, he pulls my pants down and smacks my ass real hard. A budding sensation builds there.
I hear him fumble with a foil wrapper, and before I know it, he’s deep inside of me, and I’m moaning out his name. “Adam.”
We’ve had sex pretty much everywhere in this apartment besides the kitchen. He’s decided to have me bent over the counter, and I have to say I like it.
My nipples get hard at his touch. His fingers are exploring my body as he gathers his rhythm inside of me. I crave his touch. It burns holes inside of me. The desire is indescribable. He makes me want to crawl out of my own skin.
Adam picks up his pace, and I know this time is going to be quicker than usual. I know he’s just as turned on as I am.
Before I can call out his name again, I’m moaning and shaking with pleasure. He waits until I’m finished to reach his climax. He mimics my reaction, and it makes me orgasm again. I didn’t know it was even possible to feel so much pleasure at one time.
Adam strips the rest of my clothes off and carries me into the bedroom. He lays me down softly and cuddles me close.
“That was amazing.”
“Y
ou’re amazing,” he whispers as he nibbles on my ear.
“Don’t do that or we’ll have to go for another round.”
“I’m ready if you’re ready.”
I smile, biting my lip again. I’m always ready to have Adam Wilson inside of me.
He flips me over, so I’m now lying on my back. I hope we have sex all night. I would enjoy that very much.
CHAPTER 15
TODAY IS MY BIRTHDAY. Adam hasn’t said a word to me about it. I wake up to an empty bed which means he’s probably at the gym already. Should I remind him of the special day, I wonder? Part of me was really hoping he’d remember. That would be the best birthday gift.
I throw on a robe and open the bedroom door.
Someone’s cooking. I smell it.
I follow the smell into the kitchen. A smile spreads wide across my face. Adam’s cooking breakfast. “Dinner and now breakfast. I’m a lucky girl.”
He walks over to my side swiftly. “Happy birthday, beautiful.” He remembered. Inside I’m jumping up and down with joy. He really did remember my birthday.
“I thought you forgot…”
One of his hands caresses my face, cradling my cheek in his palm. “I could never forget such an important day.”
His lips graze mine, teasingly. “I love you.”
“And I love hearing you say those three words to me. It took years. But I love you, too, Mandi. For always.”
I place a kiss on his lips. Adam’s lips are soft and smooth. I graze my teeth on them. “Do I get birthday sex?”
My comment makes him laugh. “We’re going on a weekend getaway.”
“What? Where?”
“There’s a beautiful inn called Lakeshore View. It overlooks the water. We’re going to spend the weekend together. No training. No writing. Just us for the next two days.”
“You planned all this for me?”
“Of course I did, Mandi. You deserve it.”
I’m delighted and filled with bliss. No one has ever done something like this for me before. Adam is such a generous gentleman. I definitely need this.
I go through a checklist in my head. Mickey will be fine—he has Elsa to look over him. My characters can wait two days—I just hope they keep their voices down in my head. I’ll leave enough cat food and water out for my fur babies.