Splinter of Hope (Shattered Hearts of Carolina Book 1)

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Splinter of Hope (Shattered Hearts of Carolina Book 1) Page 4

by Jody Kaye


  I could have found someone else. No, that’s a lie. I couldn’t. She is My Love. And I won’t love anyone else the way I love Kimber ever again.

  “I would have been wrong to force you to stay,” she says, knocking me out of my thoughts, and away from the juvenile schemes I’m not above using to salvage our relationship.

  “Trig, are you listening to me?”

  On baited fucking breath.

  “If you want a baby, we just stop using those.” Kimber points to the used condom wrapper on the nightstand.

  I shake my head. There must be something I’m missing.

  “I haven’t been on birth control for a while now. You always took care of it and I,” she pauses, guilt flashing across her face. “I figured on the off chance that you didn’t and something happened… Then if you didn’t want it… Well, I’d figure it out.” Kimber keeps babbling and I’m desperate to see where her thoughts have taken her. “It wasn’t to trap you and I didn’t expect it would be easy on my own. But I have a degree and a job now—even if it is at Sweet Caroline’s—and I wouldn’t have asked you for anything.”

  “You didn’t expect me to stand by you?”

  “He didn’t. It scared me to tell him. You? I kept imagining you getting excited, and I told myself it was a fallacy. I was prepared for you to say it was my fault. I mean, I didn’t tell you I wasn’t on the pill anymore.” She frowns and her shrug is caught by the pillowcase.

  “So you’re saying to me for the past year or so, you’ve wanted a baby and I’ve wanted a baby and we’ve both been too damned stubborn to let the other one know.”

  “Yeah?” She questions me back to make sure I’m not pissed as hell. It’s so damned cute all I can do is steal a kiss.

  “You’re not mad?”

  “At myself, cuz who the hell wants to wear a rubber if they can be knocking someone up instead?”

  My response makes her laugh. Our mouths side together. I lick the seam of her lips and Kimber opens for me. I kiss her long and lazy, the same way I plan on making love to her until the sun comes up.

  “Tell me next time. I won’t break you trying to make you share anything weighing on you. It’s not my way, Kimber. I steal facts about a person’s life, and because of this, I won’t read into emotions. I can’t convince myself that I’m a good man if, trying to gather what you need to keep private, I wind up prying. Promise me if it’s something like this—something about us or our kids—you’ll come to me. I don’t ever want to hurt you, intentionally or by accident.”

  “You could have made me a momma by now if I’d spoken up.” Her eyes are watery, but her understanding is clear.

  “Mmm, My Love, don’t underestimate yourself. Mothers are the most giving people on the planet. What we need to get to work on is making me a daddy.”

  My breath gets caught in my throat as Trig’s tongue slides along my hip bone.

  “If it’s the last thing I do, I’m making sure you get a matching tattoo right here, My Love. Two more footprints and a name to carry with you,” he says with reverence.

  “Only one name? What if I want a belly covered in them?

  “I will fill you up as many times as you let me.” He stares up at me under hooded eyes, stroking the underside of my leg with his large hand.

  I’ve made love to this man a million times. We’ve done dirty, unspeakable things to one another. Touching one another in hedonist ways that lay our vulnerabilities on the table plain for each other to see. The trust it takes making a baby with Trig is the most vulnerable I’ll ever be. He knows this. It’s why he waited to ask. What’s more, I know part of biding his time was for my daughter. Aidy won’t see this child as competition. Not that she should. Nothing compares to her and the love I have for her.

  At the same time, not a damned thing will ever come close to the love I have for Trig. He put us first. Kept his life on hold. That’s not easy for people our age.

  My eyes flutter closed as Trig’s beard scrapes the apex of my sex. My legs fall open, giving him access while his hands grip the globes of my ass. Trig presses his thumbs into my flesh to hold me steady. He swirls his tongue around my clit and I let out a whine. My hips lift, trying not to lose the connection with his mouth.

  “Oh, my needy girl, I’ve already told you I’m giving you everything. Don’t go getting impatient with me when I’ve been the one waiting.”

  “Please, Trig. I’m ready. I’m so, so ready.”

  “Not yet.” he teases, sucking the sensitive skin on my upper thigh. His hand kneads my breast, tweaking the nipple. I take my breasts in my palms and Trigs fingertips skitter down, sliding inside of me. My pussy clenches and Trig draws the orgasm out of me.

  “That’s it, My Love. We’re going to remember tonight.”

  His body rises to cover mine. Trig pushes my knees to either side. “Wide.” He uses a single word direction. “I’m so hard for you it hurts.” Trig enters me skin to skin for the first time with one smooth stroke.

  “Oh, God.” I mumble as our bodies move in unison. If this is heaven, I’m for damn sure never stepping one foot in hell again. Everything Trig says and does to me is perfect. And it dawns on me it’s because he knows me inside and out. He patched up my heart, holding it close to his own hoping one day I’d recognize it wasn’t a splintered mess anymore.

  I silence my phone alarm before the classic rock playlist blares. We have to vacate our hotel room soon. I’ve been awake a few minutes already, twirling a loop of Kimber’s long red hair between my fingers. From the way she’s curled up in a fetal position at my side, it’s obvious she needs a few more Zs.

  Careful not to disturb her, I shimmy out from under the warm blankets and scratch below the belt, wordlessly telling my dick it needs to knock it off. He’s had enough for now. We’ve got important shit to do today if we’re bringing a baby into this world.

  My muscles pop and I stretch to loosen up before we ride back. Grabbing my glasses from the nightstand, I turn toward the John. I give Kimber a few more minutes to recharge while I use the bathroom and find my pants and shirt.

  For the first time in a week, I slept like a log. I could have been the sexfest, which wore me out. But I have a feeling it’s more that I’m no longer worried about what direction our relationship is headed in. In fact, I know right where we belong and hope she agrees.

  “Come on, sleepyhead.” I kneel on the bed. Slipping my arms around Kimber from behind, I cup under her breasts and drag her up into a seated position. Her back rests against my chest.

  “Five more minutes?” Her head falls forward. She lets out a contented sigh when my index finger grazes her supple nipple.

  I sit back down, wrapping my legs around her and giving her the time she’s requested. Her ass crack cradles what is left of my morning wood. I wait for Kimber to come awake and rub her sleepy blue eyes.

  She stretches, intentionally brushing against my dick.

  “We don’t got time for that, My Love.” I pinch her nipples, leaving Kimber in anticipation. For the number of times I came inside her last night, I’m pretty damned sure I’ll have her knocked up soon. I’ll also have her laid out on my bed later on to make sure of it.

  I tug my sweatshirt over her head and toss her the pair of tight jeans, which she uses to hide her long creamy legs under. Such a fucking shame. I love those legs, especially when they’re wrapped around me.

  “Coffee.” She yawns, lifting her arms over her head.

  “I have just enough time to get you fed at the restaurant downstairs before we need to get a move on to meet the realtor.”

  I flick the screen on my phone and turn it toward her.

  Kimber’s big blue eyes pop open. She reaches for my cell, her jaw dropping lower than it had when she was waking up. “Is this—”

  For us.

  For real.

  Forever.

  All of the above and a hell of a lot more.

  “Do you like it?” I ask her as she sinks to the bed, scrolling f
or the location and specs. “We’ll need a place to bring ‘em home to.” And it sure as hell isn’t going to be Carver’s mill. “I’m not interested in waiting until we know for certain you’re pregnant.”

  “I love it. I love you, Trig.”

  “You’re such a heartbreaker!” My nineteen-year-old daughter cuddles Owen, my infant son, close to her chest as we cross the threshold into Ghillie and Don’s house.

  Trig has an empty baby carrier in one hand and an overflowing diaper bag slung over his shoulder.

  “Can we keep him? I want one so bad!” Aidy squeals like it has been more than a week since she’s babysat for Trig and me.

  “NO!” All four of us yell in unison.

  Our shouts startled the baby. He frowns and fusses.

  “I was kidding!” she says, bouncing Owen. “Wasn’t I?” She coos, trying to settle him. “Wasn’t I? I could eat you up.” She nibbles his cheek.

  Owen smiles, making a silly baby laugh. They disappear to a couch in the living room to bond.

  “Nobody else is here yet?” I question, placing Aidy’s birthday present on the kitchen counter.

  Ghillie makes an mm-mh sound. “This year she only wanted her family here, especially that baby brother of hers. She’s been planning this for weeks, Kimber, since you and Trig let her visit you in the hospital when Owen was born.” Ghillie pauses, looking uncertain. “It’s not uncomfortable, is it? Aidy isn’t forcing herself on you?” Her voice comes out a whisper.

  “Not at all. I’ve worried about the opposite. That you feel like we’re encroaching on your life.”

  Ghillie places her hand on her heart. “You gave us your baby and then gave our daughter the baby brother she wanted. Aidy is doing amazing in college. Though, I’m sure she’ll tell you all about it. What I’m trying to say is, she’s happy. What else can I ask for my child?”

  “I’m so glad to hear that.” I touch Ghillie’s arm. “But, for what it’s worth, in my eyes, you’ll always be her mom. I’d never take back what I gave you or ruin those memories.”

  “I know you wouldn’t. It’s why you stayed away during the years when life was rougher for you. You trusted us enough to love her when you couldn’t.” Ghillie stops. I can see her searching for the right words so she doesn’t offend me. “This may come out snotty, but I don’t doubt my relationship with Aidy. When things go wrong for her, I’m the person she comes to. But you and Trig are her family too. And, once I’m done washing these vegetables, I plan to go steal Owen from her to get my own snuggles in before dinnertime. He’s beautiful. Just like Aidy was. Don and I are so happy for you and Trig.”

  “Thank you.” I wipe the tears pooling under my eyes and curse my hormones.

  Trig holds Owen through dinner until I’ve cleaned my plate. Then we switch off so he can eat while I feed the baby.

  Aidy brings her cake to the table when we’re finished, and Ghillie asks if we’d like coffee with dessert.

  “Decaf?” I question.

  I’m certain I was pregnant on the ride back to the mill. Kicking my caffeine dependency while I was pregnant was tough. I was a little cranky, and morning sickness made me an awful lot to deal with. Ever since I could stomach it again, I’ve been good at sticking to one cup in the morning. It still has to be rich and caffeinated. I’m nursing Owen, and don’t want anything interrupting his nightly routine. We’ve finally gotten him on a schedule and settled in at night in the nursery at our new home. Sleep being of vital importance to us with an infant in the house, neither Trig nor I are jinxing it.

  “I’m sure I’ve got some,” Ghillie replies.

  “I can get it.” Aidy offers.

  “No, sit down. It is your birthday.” Her mother instructs. “Enjoy your company. Open your gifts.”

  Trig places his fork on his plate and takes Owen back to burp him. The baby spits up and, in true new dad style, Trig removes Owen’s stocking cap using it to wipe the baby’s face.

  “He’s only a few months old and you’re already a pro,” Don comments.

  “I’m trying.” Trig grins. He runs his fingers through our son’s baby soft hair. Whispers of red have appeared over the past few weeks. My husband’s face lights up watching Owen smile while fighting to keep his eyes open.

  Aidy finishes opening the gift from Ghillie and Don. She picks up ours with the pink wrapping, organdy ribbon, and Sterling’s sticker and shakes it. “I wonder what this could be?” She jests, tearing into the paper and lifting the lid of the box.

  I worry my lip and Trig reaches for my hand under the table, lacing our fingers together.

  “It’s us.” She’s astonished. “Mom, look. It’s all of us.”

  Aidy rushes to show Ghillie who brings the silver fame over for Don to take a peek at. He winks at me.

  In the hospital, Don had wanted to take Aidy’s picture with Owen and I. I think he’s known all along I had none other than the one I won’t give up. After years of declining, and pushing Don onto the other side of the camera, I asked the maternity ward nurse to take a snapshot. Not just of me and my son and daughter, but of all six of us.

  Trig had two copies made. The match to this one sits on my dresser in an identical Sterling’s frame. It’s next to the one he’d given to me when we moved, and the picture he’d found of me holding my newborn daughter.

  Shattered Hearts of Carolina

  Shred of Decency

  ©2020 Jody Kaye

  All Rights Reserved

  **This book contains sensitive scenarios that may trigger readers. Please consider reading reviews or contacting the author if you have questions.

  “You should report this, sweetheart.” The nurse practitioner’s voice is soothing, and in harsh contrast to the echo of the speculum clattering onto the metal tray. She rolls it out of the way, placing a reassuring hand on my shoulder as I sit up.

  I don’t want anyone touching me. Shrugging her off, I reach for my clothes heaped on a nearby chair. I pull my panties and slouchy sweatpants up to cover myself before a physician excuses themselves from the room during a normal exam.

  “What is there to report?” I ask with a quiver in my low voice, hardly audible as the vents in the small room kick on.

  My internal thermometer is off. I’m bone-chilled and my skin is prickly hot. Tunnels of darkness and spots have threatened my vision for hours. The walls have been closing in, even when I walked outside across campus to the health center.

  I push up my sweatshirt sleeves and am as quick to drag them back down, covering my wrists. Having my skin exposed to the nurse was enough. I don’t want anyone to see any part of me and will risk becoming overheated and passing out to keep covered.

  After slipping on my shoes, I focus on my bent knees. She crumples the blue paper that covered the tray and the trash can clangs open and shut. Coming into the clinic was a mistake. I was trying to prove to myself I was being stupid. That if I didn’t remember what happened then it couldn’t possibly be the truth.

  The nurse steps in front of me. She holds out an appointment card. I take it because my parents raised me to mind my manners and, in this situation, I don’t know how else to act.

  “Aidy, you may not have bruises on the outside, but it doesn’t mean there aren’t any on the inside. Your confusion is obvious.” She looks at me with so much sympathy. It’s as if she can see red gushing out of the gaping wound in my heart. “Sweetheart, there are people who can help you. I’d be glad to stay with you the whole time if you need someone. If it means anything, I don’t think you changed your mind.”

  Gee, what made that obvious? I think to myself. I have zero inclination to be sarcastic when she’s trying her best not to rattle me any more than I already am.

  I’d confided I wasn’t on birth control when we were reviewing my medical history. There was no reason for a healthy nineteen-year-old to be when they weren’t sexually active. My periods were enviable; a few light days on the twenty-eighth of each month. Can I be any luckier? Even February ha
s that number on the calendar. Because of this, I’ve never had an internal exam until a few minutes ago. I hadn’t been sure what to expect, but the way the speculum hung from my lower area reinforced the discomfort I’d already been feeling.

  “It’s best to report a rape right away.”

  The shame and self-loathing connected to the word is too much for me. I haven’t been able to meet her eyes the whole time. How did I allow myself to become a woman who had to deal with these emotions?

  “I can see how troubled you are accepting this, Aidy. I want you to understand I’m here no matter what you decide.” She wraps her hand around my fingers, now holding the appointment card. “Come back this week no matter what your choice is. I’d like to see for myself you’re okay. Can you do that for me? It would make me feel better, and I’d be glad to answer any questions you think of between now and then.”

  I finally look up. The kindness in her face reminds me of my mom’s. She wants to help me, but this isn’t a skinned elbow from landing on the grass when I skidded, missing while trying to catch a fly ball. I want to forget whatever game this is because my name wasn’t supposed to be on the roster. I’d gladly rewind to the point where I booked this appointment. I’d almost rather have lived the rest of my life in limbo than know this happened to me.

  I stuff the card into my hoodie pocket next to the wallet holding my Pinewood College ID. Clutching them as if a thief will steal them the way my virginity has been stolen, I run-walk back to my dorm.

  I’m filled with anxiety and unanswerable questions. How could he have done this to me? How could I have been so naive? Was it even him? And if it wasn’t, then who?

  I take the stairs up to the fourth floor because I’m petrified to be with anyone in an enclosed space. Halfway up, I start to cry because maybe waiting for a group of people to get on the elevator was safer. I fall to my ass on the concrete step, choking down sobs. The rocky texture of the formed stone grinds into my bottom, making my butt hurt. I may not have bruises, but it hasn’t stopped everything from aching. When I regain the strength to walk again, I make it to my door. With my head ducked low, I fumble with the lock. It opens and the door swings wide. In a swift motion, I have it shut and flip the bolt.

 

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