“We had to pick up Quinn from Jarrod and Amalie’s; plus, our car will fit all of the kids and car seats. Jarrod and Amalie’s won’t. Unless you thought she’d just take a cab from your parents’ house with your kids — alone?”
I didn’t think about how she’d get home.
I didn’t think about anything.
I didn’t care either.
I just left.
“Thanks for getting them settled,” I mutter, not really all that thankful for the ass chewing he’s giving me. But I deserve it.
“She’s pregnant with your twins and has two kids under five at home, Carlos. I don’t want to get involved in your marriage, man, but I gotta tell you the truth when it needs to be doled out,” he pauses, taking a breath before continuing, “You’re being a gigantic dick. So she freaked the fuck out. So she made an appointment for you to get your nuts snipped. What’s the big fucking deal?”
I don’t see anything but red. I am completely irrational at Jackson’s questions.
“She made a decision without me,” I roar.
“And?”
“How would you feel if Maggie made decisions without you? Huh? Big decisions,” I ask.
I know this man. Maggie isn’t allowed to breathe without his permission.
“You want to know what I’d do if I were in your shoes this exact moment?” he asks.
I grunt, waiting for his response.
“I’d go home and beg my wife to accept my apology for being a giant fucking dickhead. I would understand that although her reaction to the situation wasn’t ideal, she was Freaked. The. Fuck. Out. She’s home with two kids all day, and I know Vic, she tries to make everything perfect for them, and for you. She takes on too much on her own.
“I would understand that adding twins will mean a huge change, not only to the household, but to her body, and her mind as well. So, I would understand where she was coming from, and I would help ease her fears. I would hire a housekeeper for her, minimum. What I would not fucking do, is abandon her,” Jackson calmly states, as if he just told me he was ordering a fucking sub sandwich and not changing my whole perspective and calling me a dumbshit all at the same time.
“I’m a shit,” I mumble.
“Yeah, you are,” he agrees. I can’t help the chuckle that escapes.
“I can’t go back tonight. I’m too fucked up. I’ll go back tomorrow,” I say, looking at the almost empty bottle of tequila, knowing I couldn’t drive even if I wanted to.
“You do that. I gotta go,” he murmurs but I hear Quinn in the background.
I know she has his full attention now. I hang up the phone, feeling even shittier about myself, about life, and about how I handled this situation.
I have never reacted this badly before. I don’t know why it angered me so much. Maybe it was the fact that she was so willing to take away a piece of my manhood, my ability to create more life. We certainly won’t need any more kids after these two creatures make their way into this world.
I reach into my back pocket and take out the sonogram picture Victoria hastily threw at me. I take the time to really look at it. Two little round blobs; but I know what they are. They are half me and half of her. They are beautiful.
I am a worthless piece of shit.
My semen isn’t so important that I can’t give it up. There’s no other woman I’ll ever be inside of. If Victoria is done having kids, then I am too. I think four is sufficient enough.
I lie down as the room spins around me and I think about my life.
My beautiful wife.
My wonderful children.
My breathtaking life.
The fact that I get to live my dream every single day. I walked away from it all, and for what? Selfish pride.
My wife is spread out on the hotel bed, her legs spread wide and her pussy waiting for me. The last thing I want to do is call Jackson to see if he was able to pull Carlos’ head out of his ass, but I do it anyway. I let my eyes travel over Libby one last time before I press send.
“Play with yourself while I make this call,” I demand.
I then watch as her body breaks out in pretty goosebumps.
“Lexington,” he barks into the phone as Libby dips one of her fingers into her pretty pink pussy.
“You get his shit sorted?” I grunt, licking my lips when Libby pinches one of her nipples.
“Think so. He was drunk as fuck, so I hope it sunk in,” he admits. Fucking Carlos.
“All this bullshit over getting his nuts cut?” I ask, still astonished at the man’s reaction.
Libby whimpers, sliding a second finger into her wet pussy. Fuck, so goddamned fucking perfect. My cock is rock hard and the blood is draining from my brain, traveling down, leaving me with nothing but pure instinct to get me by. I want to stick my cock into her pussy—my only coherent thought.
“I think he was more pissed about her making that decision for him, not the actual decision,” he says. I nod. I can understand that.
“I guess we’ll find out tomorrow if she takes his stupid ass back,” I grunt before ending the call, telling Jackson I’ll touch base tomorrow.
I throw the phone to the floor and jump on top of my wife. She gasps in surprise—her eyes were closed.
“Fuck, Libby baby, you look so pretty all laid out with that hot cunt waiting for me,” I murmur, kissing the side of her neck.
“You’re disgusting,” she grumbles, lifting her hips slightly toward me.
I don’t need a written invitation. I slowly sink my cock into her hot, wet, pussy.
“Yeah, but you love it,” I grunt, wrapping my hands around the backs of her knees and spreading her thighs even wider for me. She’s helpless, unable to move, and I love it. I look down at her cunt taking my cock.
It’s so fuckin’ gorgeous.
“Pete,” she whimpers from beneath me.
I lean down slightly and take her mouth with my own. My tongue slides deep inside of her, the same time my cock slides deep inside of that sweet pussy.
“You gonna come on my cock, Libby baby?” I ask tipping my hips just the way she likes.
“I need more, please,” she begs.
Her fucking sweet words are my undoing. I release her knees and wrap my hands in her hair, tipping her head back, before I fuck her hard — just the way she likes.
“Pete,” she cries out.
I slam in and out of her, enjoying the hitches to her breathing. Her eyes widening in surprise, then her final scream at the exact same moment her pussy wraps even tighter around my cock, forcing my orgasm from my body as well.
“I love you,” I murmur against her sweat soaked neck as I lazily glide in and out of her, never wanting to leave my most favorite place.
That hot cunt of hers.
“I love you so much, Pete,” she sighs before her eyes flutter closed and she falls asleep, with me still inside of her.
My gorgeous girl is exhausted.
Too much fun this weekend.
I slide out of her, then out of the bed, going to the bathroom to get a warm wash cloth. I clean Libby up before I slip into bed behind her and wrap her up with my body. The extra day I booked at the Inn was totally worth it. We are completely alone without anyone else’s drama. I close my eyes and let her smell assault my senses before I can finally find sleep, myself.
Lying on my mama’s legs while she strokes my hair will never get old. I hate that my parents still live in California while I’m in New York. However, it does make me cherish these moments even more.
Mama called the agency that Jackson used when he hired help for Maggie. My mama is a doer, not a sayer. So when she said I needed help around the house, it wasn’t an option – she’s already set up three interviews.
I haven’t heard from Carlos since Saturday evening. Two full days. It is the longest we have gone without communication. The kid’s haven’t asked any questions at all, not even Rocio. I don’t know what that means. Maybe they just think he’s out on the road for
a game. I’m not going to say anything otherwise.
“What should I do?” I ask my mama.
“You need to do whatever is best for you, hija,” she not so helpfully explains.
“I’m so angry at him, but I miss him,” I admit.
“You’re married,” she shrugs. I roll my eyes.
My mama has put up with a lot of shit from my dad and us kids. She always has a way of looking at it in a positive, yet self-explanatory manner. You’re married, or I’m a mother, it’s what I do. It used to irritate me. Now, as I grow older, I understand her better. It isn’t an excuse, it is just the way it is. I’m a mother and I’m married, therefore I have to choose to make this shit work.
I fall asleep in my mama’s lap, hoping and praying that I can, indeed, make this shit work. A life without Carlos doesn’t seem possible. I can’t let it come to that. We have to work this out. I couldn’t go on without him.
It is late Tuesday evening and I’m watching television. I can’t sleep. I haven’t been able to sleep since Carlos walked out on me, not really anyway. My mother is sleeping in the guest room while I watch television in the living room. I also haven’t been able to go into my bedroom for more than showering and changing my clothes. It’s just a reminder of what’s wrong with my life. It is where we made these babies and it is where my husband isn’t.
The door handle jiggles and I turn to see Carlos walk through the front door of our apartment. I gasp at how horrible he looks. His hair is unkempt, his clothes rumpled, and he has black circles under his eyes. He looks like complete shit. I’m sure I don’t fare much better, though.
“What are you doing awake, hermosa?” he asks, his voice soft and ragged from being so tired.
“Can’t sleep.”
I shrug as I watch him close and lock the door behind him. He walks right over to me and sits down, looking straight ahead at the television. I can practically see his thoughts spinning inside of his mind. I want to scream and yell at him, I want to tell him to fuck off, to go away, but my words are trapped in the back of my throat.
“I was a dick. I shouldn’t have left the way I did. There is no explanation I could give that excuses my behavior,” he admits, which shocks me.
I blink once, shaking my head, wondering if I imagined his words – his apology.
“My mother’s here,” I blurt out. Carlos turns and looks at me in surprise.
“From Cali?” he asks slowly. I nod.
“I called her and she flew here. I needed my mama,” I explain as my bottom lip wobbles.
Carlos grabs me by my waist and pulls me into his arms. It feels good, they feel good, wrapping around me. I hear him inhale my scent and I pull him tighter, wrapping my own arms around him. I missed his touch, his voice, and his smell. I missed everything about the pendejo.
“I’m so fucking sorry. I was so wrong to get so angry. I was so wrong to leave you,” he confesses and my whole body relaxes.
I am still beyond hurt but I’m married. If I don’t forgive him for his instant, immediate reactions, how can I expect him to forgive mine? We both freaked out and we both handled it differently and neither of us did it the right way.
“I’m sorry, too,” I confess as tears roll down my cheeks and into his neck.
“Never again, morenita,” he murmurs. I nod unable to speak.
He doesn’t say another word as he turns the television off and then picks me up and carries me toward our room. I am nestled into his chest and open my eyes in time to see my mother watching us. She smiles and winks before closing her bedroom door. My mama knows all. I don’t know how I would have made it these past few days without her.
“Where were you?” I ask as he lays me down in our bed, pulling the comforter over my body.
“A hotel, alone, and drunk,” he confesses, shedding his own rumpled clothes and sliding into the bed next to me.
“Los,” I whisper. He silences me by placing a chaste kiss on my lips.
“Sleep,” he orders, and it is as if my body understands what he is saying. My mind finally shuts down and I fall into a deep slumber.
I watch as her body finally relaxes and sleep takes over. I feel like an even bigger dickhead. She’s fuckin’ exhausted and it’s all my fault. I should have been home last night. No, I should have never left that Inn. After Jackson talked to me, I was going to come home first thing Monday morning, but I didn’t – couldn’t. I was still angry. I needed to really re-evaluate my anger and why I was so goddamned pissed off at Victoria.
I ended up calling my dad. The man is a genius and he’s been married to my mom for over thirty years. I don’t ever remember them arguing growing up, so he must be doing something right.
He told me I was being a dumbass.
I started drinking again after that conversation, well into Monday evening. I only sobered up enough to drive home tonight. I am a dumbass, though. My dad wasn’t wrong. I let Victoria down and everybody else in my life, too. Before driving home, I decided to sit down and really think about my situation.
Do I love Victoria enough to forgive her for making that appointment? Undoubtedly. She owns my balls anyway, why do I give such a fuck what she wants to do with them?
Can I let it all go? I can and I choose to.
Can I make my own vasectomy appointment and go through it, for her and for myself? I think I can. I have to. Not only for her but for us.
I e-mailed my doctor and made the appointment.
I need my wife more than I need air to breathe.
I can let it all go because, in the long run, it’s what needs to be done and it will make my beautiful bride happy. Finally, I close my own eyes and I rest. I sleep. I am where I belong, next to the love of my life.
The next morning, I wake up to the sound of cartoons in the living room and my mother-in-law banging pots and pans around, probably making breakfast.
I leave Victoria alone to sleep. She needs her rest. Before I get up, I slide my palm to cup her belly. Its firm and beginning to round with my babies’ growth. She’s bringing two lives into this world, carrying them and giving them life — for me.
I need to take better care of my woman. I need to tell her how much I appreciate her. I do appreciate her, more than anything in this world.
My mother-in-law is making eggs, bacon and pancakes in the kitchen when I walk in. I grab a coffee and lean my hip against the counter. The kid’s haven’t noticed I’m awake yet, Mickey Mouse Clubhouse has their undivided attention. I need to speak with my mother-in-law, anyway.
“Mother-in-law,” I murmur and her eyes lock with mine.
They are so much like Victoria’s, but she holds wisdom in hers that is frightening.
“You done being immature?” she asks bluntly.
“I am,” I admit.
“You ever do this to my hija again, I take her and my grandbabies with me back to California, where her family is,” she states, flipping pancakes.
“Her family is here,” I counter. She shakes her head at me, thrusting the spatula at my chest.
“Family doesn’t walk out the way you did. Family doesn’t abandon. You leave her like that again, I call her papa and we bring her back. Good luck ever seeing her again if Armando is in charge,” she says.
The color drains from my face.
Armando is my father-in-law. He’s also a scary motherfucker. I’ve seen the guy in action when it comes to protecting his family. No, thank you.
“I promise, never again,” I say, and I mean it. I’ll never leave my family again.
“Okay,” she says as she turns to finish making breakfast.
I make my way out of the kitchen and into the living room to see my babies. Rocio is sitting on the couch, her long dark hair crazy and messy. Junior is on the floor, playing with his cars. I sigh.
I left this.
How could I be so angry that I could walk out on these two? I am a complete shit. Never fucking again. No matter what.
“Daddy,” Rocio whispers when
I sit down next to her. I exhale when she curls her tiny body into my side, lying her head on my stomach.
“I missed you, Rocio,” I murmur, running my fingers through her messy, soft, hair.
“I missed you too, daddy, so much. Mama was sad when you were gone,” she says.
I pinch my eyes closed. I try to keep the tears out of my eyes but they come anyway.
“I missed her, too,” I whisper, trying not to let her know I’m a crying pussy.
“Time to eat,” my mother-in-law calls out. She then thrusts a plate at me from the other side of the sofa. “Go take this to Vic, she needs to eat.”
I take the plate and quickly go into the bedroom in search of my wife. My eyes adjust to the darkness of the room and I grin when I see she hasn’t moved a muscle. I sit down next to her and gently stroke her bare arm. She frowns and then mumbles some curse words in Spanish, making me chuckle. I watch as her pretty amber eyes flutter open. She looks confused for a second and then surprised.
“Los?” she asks. I pick up the food that I sat down on her nightstand.
“Your mom made you breakfast in bed,” I say with a shrug.
“Pancakes, with powdered sugar?” she asks beginning to sit up. I chuckle, my wife and her fuckin’ sugar.
“Yeah, baby, powdered sugar,” I murmur, handing her the plate.
I watch with rapt attention as she starts to devour her breakfast. She’s eating the food like it’s going to be her last meal here on earth.
“You that hungry?” I ask.
“Starving. These babies, Los, I’m starving all of the time. I’m going to be three hundred pounds by the time I deliver,” she whines around a mouthful of sugar and pancake.
“You’ll be the most gorgeous three hundred pound mama on earth, Vic,” I say. She narrows her eyes and lets out a puff of air.
“Los,” she warns. I cut her off and brush my lips against her sweet ones.
“Te adoro, hermosa,” I whisper against her lips.
“I adore you, too,” she whimpers back as tears fill her eyes.
“Do you think your mama would hang with the kids today?”
Sweet Spot for Victoria (Men of Baseball Book 4) Page 7
