After all, the BDSM thing no longer disgusts me. Maybe Patrick’s walk on the wild side was too much for my personal tastes because I know I’ll never be interested in blood or asphyxiation edge play. Yet, I understand better where my ex is coming from now. Different strokes for different folks, as my gram used to say.
But there’s still one outstanding problem: Patrick himself. In the aftermath of our visit to the club, I feel even worse about what I did to him. His tastes are normal, even if he was cheating on me at the time. Even more, I feel like such a hypocrite for actually getting turned on by what I saw at Club Om. As a result, it feels wrong to let things stay the way they are between us, and I know that there’s more to closure than just seeing it from his perspective.
Still, it’s not until the following weekend that Frisco broaches the inevitable question. “Now that you’ve experienced it firsthand,” he says as we’re lounging in bed one night, “what do you think about tying things up with my brother? Officially, I mean, so that we can put things to rest.”
I bite my lip and look away. “I have thought about it,” I admit. “I’m just not sure how.”
“I’m not going to pressure you either way,” my lover says, “but I do hate to see things left like this where my brother is involved. It’s your decision, but I do think it would make sense to talk to him. Clear the air, if nothing else.”
I purse my lips for a moment.
“But what if he doesn’t want to talk, though?” I protest. “We parted on such horrible terms. I humiliated him, and he got me arrested. How does someone even fix that kind of a mistake?”
“There’s no way to be sure unless you do it,” Frisco growls, pulling me close and placing a kiss on the top of my head. “But that’s the point. If you don’t at least try, you’ll never resolve things between the two of you. And since I care about both of you, I would hate to see this keep festering.”
“You’re saying I should just show up on his doorstep?” I ask.
Frisco shrugs. “You’ve got nothing to lose, and everything to gain. Think about Club Om: you would never have discovered a new way of life if you hadn’t taken the risk.”
“But that’s because I had you with me!” I protest. “I can’t do it myself!”
My boyfriend grins.
“Well,” Frisco says simply, “that’s easy enough. I’ll come with you if you decide to talk to Patrick again.”
“You will?” I open my mouth, struck by a sudden wave of emotion. Even after all this time, I’m still astonished at the generosity of my boyfriend.
“Of course I will,” Frisco replies. “Just tell me when and where, and I’ll be there.”
Now, we’re pulling up outside Patrick’s apartment in Frisco’s sports car. I’m jittery with adrenaline, and it only gets worse as we walk up the steps and ring the doorbell. My stomach literally hurts, and I fight the urge to clasp my tummy. What if Patrick tells me to fuck off? What if he decides to call the cops on me again? There’s so much that can go wrong, that I nearly run in the other direction when I hear movement from the other side of the door.
“I’m with you, sweetheart,” Frisco growls, giving my hand a reassuring squeeze. “You’re going to be fine.”
I cling to his palm, steeling myself, and then the door swings open. Patrick is standing there, and he looks completely normal, and not like the monster I’ve painted in my head. He’s dressed in pajama pants and a t-shirt, his hair sticking up in places. His apartment is just like I remember it too: neatly furnished and organized, with beige furniture and a gray carpet. The TV is on in the living room, and I’m struck by surprise at just how mundane it all is. This isn’t a den of sin; it’s just the apartment of a regular guy.
Patrick’s eyes narrow when he sees me.
“What are you doing here?” he asks before turning to his brother. “And you, Fris? What’s up?” There’s definitely suspicion in his voice.
“Hey,” I begin tentatively, hugging myself, and then the words start to spill out before he can slam the door in my face. “I came here to apologize, Patrick,” I rush, and it’s hard to keep the emotion out of my voice. “I’m sorry about everything. It’s been eating me up inside, what I did to you. It was wrong, and it was cruel, and you had every right to call the police on me.” I glance up tentatively, and see that Patrick’s eyes are still narrowed. But I’ve come this far, so there’s no point in stopping now. “I don’t expect you to forgive me, but I wanted you to know how much I regret what I did. I hurt you, Patrick, and I’m sorry.”
My ex stares at me for a long moment before clearing his throat.
“I… okay,” he says at last. “Thanks, Libby. Apology accepted.” He glances away awkwardly, but then looks back at his brother standing beside me. Patrick frowns. “Are you with her?” he demands. “What are you doing here? Did you engineer this apology, brother?” His eyes dart from the older man to me, and I can see the confusion on his face.
Shit. The moment of truth has come. It was going to come out sooner or later, though, especially because I’m serious with Frisco. Still, right now, I’m nearly shaking with nerves.
“Um well, after our fight,” I explain in a halting voice, “I was angry at you. I wanted to get back at you, and I was willing to do whatever it took to make you as upset as I was.” I take a steadying breath before saying simply, “So Frisco and I hooked up.”
Whatever understanding was on Patrick’s face dissolves in an instant. “You what?” he hisses, his mouth twisting into a snarl. “You and Frisco…? Frisco, what the fuck?”
“I know you’re angry,” I say, putting my hands up, “and I get it. If I were you, I would feel the same-”
But Patrick isn’t hearing it.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” he bellows, practically shaking with anger. “Here I was thinking the revenge porn was the worst of it, and now you’re telling me you fucked my brother? Who does that?”
He takes an angry step forward, but Frisco moves in between us protectively.
“Hey, slow down, tiger,” he growls in a low voice. “Libby came here to explain herself, and to come clean about everything. This hasn’t been easy for her, and she understands that she hurt you.” He raises an eyebrow. “But you need to calm the fuck down.”
Patrick looks at his brother with disgust.
“Do you hear yourself? Calm the fuck down? You’ve been fucking my girlfriend this whole time, knowing what she did to me? What the fucking hell is wrong with you?”
Frisco starts to seethe, but manages to comport himself with admirable calm.
“The passion between us was unexpected, yes, but it was also undeniable. Besides, you were broken up already, so it’s not like I destroyed your relationship with Libby.”
Patrick looks between us with disbelief.
“We were broken all of two seconds! You just couldn’t wait to jump her bones, huh? Who’s more depraved now? Me, or you two fuckers?”
I want to cry, and my lower lip trembles, but Frisco intercedes once more.
“I took Libby to Club Om, Patrick. Neither she nor I think you’re a freak because of your habits. That’s over and done with.”
Patrick looks utterly flabbergasted, and his mouth opens and closes a few times with shock. “You what?” he asks incredulously. “Why though? Are you joking?”
“He’s not,” I manage to stammer. “We went there last Saturday night, and I saw what it was like. That’s another reason I wanted to apologize. I shouldn’t have judged you for your kinks the way I did, and I shouldn’t have called Raina a latex whore. If I could go back and handle things differently, I would do it in a heartbeat.”
Patrick snorts. “Right. Hindsight is always 20-20, huh? That’s so convenient for you, but what about everyone in our Bible study? In our church for that matter? I haven’t been able to show my face since!”
“Listen, Patrick,” Frisco intercedes again, “I hear what you’re saying, and I get it. Your reputation, so to say, has been ru
ined among the Bible-thumping crowd, but the good part is that that congregation is made of good people. They’re not going to hold it against you long-term. Jesus walks for us all, and they will welcome you back into the fold, have no doubt.”
Patrick stares daggers at his older brother.
“Oh yeah? But when, may I ask? In this lifetime or the next?”
Frisco raises one big hand.
“I don’t know,” is his concession. “But it will happen, mark my words.”
Patrick snorts, his expression disdainful.
“Okay, I get it,” he says flatly. “The two of you wanted to clear your consciences by coming over here. Good for you. Fine. Consider it done.”
He makes to slam the door in our faces, but quick as lightning, Frisco reaches one big hand out and stops him.
“No, we’re not just here to clear our consciences. Libby made a mistake. A big one, I think we can all recognize that, and she is sorry about it. But the issue’s grown,” he adds, fixing me with a look. “Libby and I are expecting a child now, and we’re in love, and we want you to be a part of our lives, Patrick, despite everything that’s happened.”
My ex and I both stare at the billionaire, sure that he’s joking. Expecting a child? What is he talking about?
“I’m sorry?” I ask, raising my eyebrows. “Frisco, what are you saying? I don’t even know that I’m pregnant!”
The handsome man turns to me, and his expression is both loving and dead serious. Slowly he lowers his hand to my rounded tummy, and I can feel the possession coming off him in waves.
“You’ve been feeling queasy lately, right?” he asks in a low tone. “I saw the way you were picking at your food at the bistro. Every time we’ve eaten together, the smells have put you off, isn’t that so?” My mouth drops open, but no sound comes out. He has a point. “When was the last time you got your period, Libby?” my boyfriend asks.
My heart skips a beat as I cast back over the past few months. It’s all been such a blur, like a tidal wave of sex and romance that has swept me completely off my feet.
“Oh my god,” I breathe. “It’s been two months, I think. And I have been having weird food cravings. Not to mention the nausea…” I stare at Frisco in disbelief that I never took note of something so obvious. The next thing I realize, tears are stinging my eyes as I glance down at my stomach before covering his hand gently with mine. I’ll need to take a test to be sure, but it makes so much sense. It feels right.
“Tell me I’m wrong,” Frisco murmurs, reaching up to brush his thumb over my quivering lips.
“You’re not wrong,” I whisper. “I think I might be pregnant with our child. But…” I swallow hard, finally returning to the second part of his announcement to Patrick. “You said you love me.”
“I do,” Frisco says calmly. “It’s the truth. I love you, Libby, just as you love me.”
For a moment, it’s as if we’re the only people in the universe. “Yes, I do, Frisco,” I breathe as intense emotion floods over my soul. Suddenly, everything feels right, more right than it ever has before. “I love you,” I repeat, relishing the way the words sound. “And if you’re serious about this…” I trail off, glancing down at my belly. “This is something I want. A life with you. With both you and our child.”
“I want that too, Libby,” my handsome lover rasps. “More than I could possibly say.”
I’m faintly aware of Patrick making a disgusted sound off to my left, but that doesn’t matter anymore. My whole world is standing in front of me, caressing me with his cobalt gaze, and his love for me is all that matters. Then, Frisco leans down and kisses me more sweetly than he ever has before.
“You’re mine,” he breathes hotly.
I merely smile against his lips.
“I am,” I whisper in agreement. “Always.”
Then, I melt into Frisco’s hard form, and it’s perfect. Maybe he is the brother of my ex, and maybe I was a very rash girl who made some very bad decisions in the past. But the good part is that Frisco has helped me become a better woman, and to mature into the best version of myself that I can be. Now, with our baby, we have the future before us, extending into the horizon and beyond.
Epilogue
Libby
* * *
After six months, the day has finally come. It’s something I’ve dreamed about ever since I was a little girl, but even before the fiasco with Patrick, there were always doubts. Would I ever find my soulmate? Would a guy appreciate my desire to dedicate myself to raising children as a stay at home mom? Would I find someone who loves me for who I am, curves and all?
Yes. The answer is yes, and now, standing at the altar across from my handsome groom, it feels almost inevitable. How could I have ever been unsure?
Frisco, who looks ungodly handsome in his tailored tux, takes my hands in his. He looks down at me with heartrending affection, but not before caressing my stomach gently. The baby isn’t due for another two months, and I was a little nervous about showing up to my wedding so visibly pregnant because I’m so huge now that I can’t see my toes over my tummy. Judging by the expressions of the guests, though, I didn’t have anything to worry about.
Out in the audience, I can see the faces of my parents and Frisco’s parents, as well as Dakota and her family. My friend waves merrily when she catches my eye, and I nod slightly and wink. I’m taking a break from the Blue Bean for the foreseeable future, which she understands completely. I suppose it’s possible that I’ll end up being a barista at one of Frisco’s shops later on, but that’s a question for later. For now, I want to focus on being a full-time mom to our daughter.
There are more familiar faces alongside Dakota and Jack. Bo from Club Om is present, and he’s mouthwateringly handsome in a black suit. A few ladies are sneaking looks at the enormous man and I giggle because they probably don’t know what he does for a living.
But then, my attention is caught by my ex, Patrick. We decided to invite Frisco’s brother, even though things weren’t completely healed between us, and to our surprise, he responded yes. He’s sitting off to the side with Raina Peterson, and it seems both have now gone completely goth. They’re dressed in all black, which is unusual for a wedding, but even more unusual is that they’ve both dyed their hair jet black, caked their faces in pasty white make-up, and drawn on black lips. Weird. They stand out amidst the sea of attendees, but it’s fine. I’m just glad that Patrick’s here so that we can move forward. We aren’t really talking yet - the situation between us is still decidedly awkward - and I’m sure it will still be a while before we do, but I’ve left the anger and resentment in the past. I can settle for being civil, and so can he. There’s no more bad blood there.
Pastor Ed smiles at the both of us before he begins to speak. The words are timeless and magical, and seem to float by within seconds. When my pastor utters the final words of the ceremony, my heart contracts with happiness upon hearing them.
“Do you, Frisco Arrington, take Libby Rain to be your wedded wife, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better or worse, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?”
Frisco doesn’t even hesitate, and I can feel the love emanating from his huge form as he growls, “Yes.”
Pastor Ed turns to me, a knowing smile on his face. “Do you, Libby Rain, take Frisco Arrington to be your wedded husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better or worse, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?”
Tears fill my eyes as a gentle smile takes over my lips. “I do,” I reply, squeezing Frisco’s hands.
“Then,” Pastor Ed continues majestically, “by the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife! You may kiss the bride.”
Frisco takes my face in his hands, leans forward, and presses his lips to mine. I lean into the kiss, basking in the applause and cheers from the audience, and enjoy the feeling of that possessive mouth against mine. This is what this was all leading to, and at this moment, I couldn�
��t be happier.
We’re all but swept up in the crowd after that, and the reception itself is a blur. Everyone flocks around us to congratulate me on the baby and my new husband, and it’s a while before we even make it to the dining room. It’s not until I’m seated at the table, with Frisco standing next to me to give his speech, that I’m finally able to catch my breath.
I listen to him with an amused smile on my face as he speaks. My gorgeous husband wrote this speech last night, and it had him up until the wee hours, but his words are sincere and fill me with love. He looks at me, and there are tears in those blue eyes.
“Lastly, I want to thank my new wife, Mrs. Libby Arrington. I’ve loved you since the day I’ve met you, and today you’ve made me the luckiest man in the world.” I slip my hand into his, looking up at him with adoration from the table. “You’re the mother of my child,” Frisco continues, “and since we’re all here today, I think this is as good a time as any to announce that we’ve decided to name our daughter Kona, which is a special type of coffee from the mountains of Hawaii. Although you may not know, it’s actually a discussion about coffee that brought us together the first time. Libby,” he growls, looking at me like I’m the only person in the room, “I love you, and I’m so incredibly lucky to have you as my wife.”
I stand up to kiss him as the room erupts into applause again, and as we’re sitting down, I manage to get close enough to murmur in his ear, “Meet me in the hallway when you get a chance. I want to show you something, husband-mine.”
Frisco raises his dark eyebrows, but doesn’t question it. As the reception goes on and the guests start to eat, I slip out under the pretense of going to the bathroom. Out in the hallway, I find a secluded nook away from the rest of the crowd, and there I wait for my new husband. It isn’t long before the gorgeous man arrives, blue eyes glowing. “I have to admit, Libby,” he growls, pulling me against him, “you’ve piqued my interest.”
My Boyfriend's Brother Page 7
