by Aly Martinez
“So this is Tessa,” I introduced, but that was as far as I got before I realized I’d probably have to write two books.
Suddenly, Heath came barreling down the stairs in nothing but a pair of jeans, his gun drawn, his hair disheveled, claw marks covering his chest.
“Don’t move!” he yelled.
Rome barked a surprised curse and spread his arms wide, protectively shielding Cathy and Kristen.
“No. No. No!” I yelled, rushing toward Heath. “We’re fine! Everyone’s fine!”
His gaze swung around the room, but he never lowered his weapon as he growled, “What the hell is going on?”
“Luke!” Tessa cried, popping her head up and wiggling in my arms to get to him.
“Please. Put the gun down.” I begged. “This is Roman’s family. We weren’t expecting them, and Roman’s upset because one of the guys let them in. That’s all. Nothing’s going on.”
And then I decided it would take at least three books to explain this to the Leblancs as Clare came running down the stairs in absolutely nothing except Heath’s T-shirt, shouting, “Tessa!”
Of course in response, Tessa yelled, “Mama!” and struggled even harder.
Heath scanned the room one last time before reluctantly tucking his gun into the back of his jeans.
My shoulders sagged in relief, though I wasn’t quite sure I’d ever get my heart to slow.
“Come here, sweet girl,” Heath cooed to Tessa.
I’d barely put her on her feet before she was sprinting into his arms.
He scooped her up, gave her a quick once-over, flashed her a wide grin, and then handed her off to a notably frazzled—and equally disheveled—Clare.
He glanced around the room and then ran a hand through his hair as he extended the other in Rome’s direction announcing, “Heath Light.” Casual, as if he’d just bumped into him at the grocery store on a fucking Tuesday afternoon.
“Rome Leblanc,” he mumbled, cautiously taking Heath’s proffered hand.
How was this my life?
“I need more wine,” I declared.
“I could do wine,” Cathy called out.
Kristen kept her eyes leveled on Heath’s naked chest as she said, “I hope you’ve got a vineyard.”
I didn’t. But I’d give Roman’s assistant, Seth, a call.
“Clare?” I questioned.
She peeked around Heath. “Um…I should…probably get dressed.”
“Right. Well, I’ll have a glass ready if you change your mind.”
I didn’t waste a single second longer before heading for the wine.
“How are you doing?” I asked Clare as we sat on the couch, watching Rome and Cathy Leblanc play blocks on the floor with Tessa.
Roman had given the abridged version of what was going to be my three-book series to his family once he’d finally calmed down. As to be expected, they were all surprised. Rome’s surprise was expressed in a string of angry expletives similar to those of his son, but Cathy cried, exclaiming that she had a granddaughter before launching all of her pent-up Grandma energy on Tessa. Kristen spent half an hour trying to formulate a proper response. Though she did it while googly-eyed staring at Heath and Ethan.
Clare glanced up at Heath, who was leaning against the wall, hovering like a sentinel watching over his girls. Her cheeks were bright red when she turned her attention back my way, a shy smile playing on her lips. “I think I’m good.”
As it turned out, Heath was the one who had made this mysterious list of approved visitors. It consisted of Roman’s family, my parents, and his sisters. I thought it was crazy sweet that he trusted us enough to include people he’d never met on his list. However, after listening to him and Roman argue, I found out that he didn’t trust anyone. He’d just done extensive research on both of us before he’d first approached Roman.
I wasn’t sure how I felt about someone investigating my parents.
However, my wine told me not to worry about it.
And who was I to argue with wine? It had never steered me wrong before.
“You sure? I’m really sorry about all of this.” I motioned a hand around the room. “I would have asked them to leave, but not even the DEA has the manpower to deal with Cathy Leblanc’s wrath.”
She flashed me an understanding smile. “It’s okay, really.”
“Sex makes everything okay,” Kristen stated, flopping down on the other side of Clare.
“Kristen!” I scolded in a whisper.
Clare giggled, tipping her beer to her lips before glancing up at Heath again.
“What?” Kristen defended. “We all saw those two hoofing it down the stairs.” She jerked her chin in Heath’s direction. “Is the bottom half as hot as the top?”
“Oh God,” I groaned, dropping my head back against the back of the couch.
Clare didn’t answer. At least, not verbally. But her smile grew wide as she became enthralled with the label on her beer.
Kristen clutched her imaginary pearls. “Oh, sweet Jesus. It is. On that note, I need more wine.”
“We’re out. But Seth should be here soon,” I said, waggling my eyebrows.
Her smile curled down into a frown. “That hot-ass son of a bitch.”
I leaned into Clare, bumping her with my shoulder. “Just to get you up to speed, Kristen slept with Roman’s assistant. He hasn’t called her back.”
“Ouch,” she told Kristen sympathetically.
Kristen emphatically nodded. “Yeah, and worse, I’m stuck seeing him every single time I go out of my way to stalk him down at Roman’s office. The least Roman could do is fire him and make it challenging for me.”
Clare’s eyebrows shot up, her lips thinning as she suppressed a laugh.
As Kristen sauntered away, I told her, “You can laugh. We all know she’s insane.”
“She really is. Don’t take this the wrong way, but I can’t believe she and Roman are related.”
I looked up to where Roman was standing with Alex and Ethan, discussing something quietly. His handsome face contorted with anger. I, again, listened to my wine and took the last sip instead of trying to figure out what was wrong now.
“Oh, Roman’s crazy too. He’s just better at keeping it hidden than Kristen.”
Her gaze drifted up, following mine to Roman. “I’m sorry,” she apologized.
I snapped my attention back to hers. “For what?”
She shook her head and went back to peeling the label on her beer. “That Walt did this to you.”
My chest tightened, and I reached out and took her hand before giving it a reassuring squeeze. “He didn’t do this to me. He did it to all of us. That includes you. You don’t owe anyone any apologies.”
She smiled but kept her gaze aimed at her lap. “Do you think he was mine?”
“Who?”
Her sad eyes lifted to mine. “Your son…Tripp. I mean, my egg quality was bad, which is why we had to do IVF to begin with. But the doctors told us after my egg retrieval that they got three. Do you think maybe Walt had someone switch the eggs and you got mine, and that’s why he died?”
God, my heart ached at the mention of Tripp. I hadn’t had him for long, but that little boy was my life. I missed him every minute of every day and probably would for the rest of my life.
“I don’t know whose egg it was, but I know that wasn’t why he died. It was just one of those things,” I replied, glancing back to Roman, who was now studying me from across the room.
Reading my mood, he tipped his head in question, but I shot him a smile to let him know I was good.
I turned back to Clare. “Can I admit something so incredibly crazy that it’s going to make Kristen look like the definition of sanity?”
Her lips tipped up at the corners, and she nodded eagerly.
“If Walt did switch the eggs, I don’t hate him for it. I hate him for what he did to you. To Tessa. To everyone. But, if he gave me Tripp… I mean, it wasn’t ideal. Those months knowing we w
ere going to lose him were the hardest of my entire life. But I got twelve minutes with a little boy I’d carried inside me for nine months. It killed me to let him go, but I wouldn’t give up that time with him for anything.”
Her chin quivered as she asked, “Can I say something so incredibly selfish that it’s going to sound like I’m the worst person in the entire world?”
I grinned. “Lay it on me.”
Her tired gaze lifted to mine. “I’m glad it was y’all. I know that’s shitty, but I have no idea where I’d be if it weren’t for you guys and Heath. I’m sorry this is happening. I really am.” A tear finally breached her lid.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Heath come unstuck from the jamb and stride toward her. She didn’t seem to notice and kept talking.
“But I’m so selfishly thankful it was y’all. Does that make me a horrible person?”
I laughed, fighting back tears of my own. “If it does, then we can be horrible people together.” I released her hand and clinked my empty glass on her beer.
Heath stopped in front of us, concern crinkling his forehead. “You good, babe?”
She shook her head and laughed, wiping the dampness off her face with the back of her hand. “I’m a horrible person. But so is Elisabeth, so I think it’s okay.”
I bumped my shoulder with hers as I laughed even louder.
It wasn’t really funny.
It was sad. Terribly and tragically depressing.
But, sometimes in life, your only options were to laugh or cry.
And both Clare and I were way overdue for a laugh.
She handed her beer off to Heath as she fell over on the couch, howling with laughter. I was right behind her, falling over to the other side, lost in hysterics.
And we laughed.
And laughed.
And laughed some more.
Until the entire room laughed right along with us.
There would be plenty of time for crying later.
But, for one night, we drank beer and wine, spent time with family, ordered pizza, and pretended it was all so perfectly normal.
“Honey,” I breathed, threading my fingers in the top of Heath’s hair, his head between my legs.
I’d woken up in his arms as he had been carrying me from the bed beside Tessa, into his room across the hall. He’d wasted no time before snatching the panties down my legs and dropping to his knees.
“I want you inside me,” I begged.
“You come on my mouth and I’ll give you my cock.”
I groaned. It wasn’t exactly a hardship; it was, however, early. The morning sun was just starting to peek through the windows, and it wouldn’t be long before Tessa woke up.
It had been almost three weeks since the DNA results and the day Heath and I first had sex. Though, for about a week after that, it had been the only time Heath and I had sex.
The following day, Heath had told me that he wanted me to see a therapist before anything else happened between us. He was also concerned that we hadn’t used a condom. I could see his point on the condom, but there was not one thing a therapist was going to say that was going to sway me from wanting to be with Heath.
And she didn’t.
After my first appointment with the doctor they had brought in to the house to see me and Tessa, I came skipping out of the door, informing him, “She said we were both consenting adults, and if I want to have sex with you, I can.”
He arched an eyebrow and asked, “Did you just spend an hour getting permission to fuck me?”
I shrugged. That wasn’t the only thing we’d discussed, but it was one of the higher points.
He glowered and then shoved me back inside.
An hour later, I reemerged with red-rimmed eyes, emotionally exhausted.
He grinned and hugged me, muttering, “Thank fuck.”
I didn’t give up on my attempts to get him back into bed though. For a week, I tortured him with nighties and cornered him with kisses every chance I could get him alone. I never felt more alive than I was when I was in his arms—naked or clothed.
Though, the night I snuck into the shower with him, I decided I definitely liked him better naked. He wanted me. I knew he did. He was just trying to do right by me. But right for me was just being with him. So, as I pressed him against the wall in the shower, he finally relented with a sexy smirk and a, “Jesus Christ, woman.”
And it was a really good thing, because when we were together, he made me forget the rest of the madness swirling around us.
And I desperately needed more of that.
The same day I started seeing the therapist, I started working with the DEA to take Walter down. In exchange for complete immunity for my part in any of his crimes, I spent days upon days answering questions and filling them in on everything I knew about his operations.
Tomlinson wouldn’t allow Heath in the room while they questioned me, and I feared his head was going to explode the first day when I came out crying. By the second day, he relaxed a fraction, but he was always sitting in a chair on the other side of the door when I came out, an exhausted and worried look painting his handsome face.
But that was then…and now was now.
And, in the now, it was Christmas Eve and his mouth was between my legs, his tongue making tight circles over my sensitive clit.
“Yes!” I cried, arching off the bed.
“Hurry, babe,” he ordered roughly, his hand sliding up my stomach to my breasts.
He thoroughly worked me with his mouth, sucking and licking as he drew me to the edge. But it was his skilled fingers at my nipples, plucking and rolling, that sent me over.
I came hard, long, and beautifully.
“Heath, honey,” I moaned when he continued eating away at me. I squirmed beneath him, too sensitive post-orgasm but still wanting more. “You promised me your cock.”
His head lifted, a mischievous glint in his eye as he leaned to the nightstand to retrieve a condom. “You say the word cock again and we’re not gonna make it that far.”
I spoke around a wide smile as I said, “Cock.” I enunciated each letter while propping my feet on the bed and allowing my knees to fall open.
He sucked in a breath through his teeth, his eyes dipping to my core. “If I hadn’t woken up this morning with dreams of your pussy, I’d fuck that mouth of yours.”
“We could do both,” I suggested, reaching out for him.
He grinned as he tore the condom open, the muscles on his stomach rippling as he worked it down his thick shaft. “Christmas is tomorrow, Clare. We can do both then.” He winked, and my stomach fluttered with the excitement of “both” more than any gifts under the tree.
Once he had the condom in place, he kept his feet on the floor and bent his tall frame over me to take my mouth in a deep and wet kiss, the taste of my release lingering on his lips.
“What do you need, Clare?” he asked against my mouth.
I replied with the same but no less accurate answer as always. “You.”
“Then take it,” he rasped.
I reached between us and lined us up, and then Heath took it from there.
He fucked me hard and fast, but it was Heath, so it was also loving and gentle.
His hands were in my hair, his teeth nipping at my neck, his powerful body pinning me to the mattress.
Orgasm number two built within me. His pace quickened as I locked my legs at the ankle around his back, using my heels to urge him deeper.
A request he more than fulfilled.
As the first wave hit me, I raked my nails down his back and he quickly covered my mouth with his own to swallow my cry. A few strokes later, I swallowed his growl as he found his own release.
Then I took his weight as he collapsed on top of me. His mouth went to my ear as his early morning scruff scratched my cheek.
“Merry Christmas Eve, babe.”
Isn’t that the damn truth. “Merry Christmas Eve, Heath.”
“Mama! Luke made Chri
stmas bacon!” Tessa exclaimed as I entered the kitchen.
I laughed, going straight to her and kissing her forehead. “His name’s Heath, baby,” I reminded her for the millionth time.
“No. He Luke,” she giggled before chomping down on a piece of bacon.
“Sweet girl, you can call me whatever you want,” Heath said from the stove. “You want some, babe?”
I walked his way, snagging a coffee mug from the cabinet before pressing up on my toes and planting a chaste kiss on his lips. “What’s Christmas bacon?”
“It from a reindeer,” Tessa answered behind me.
I playfully lifted my eyebrows. “We’re eating Rudolph?”
He stared down at me with a bright smile. “Nah. It’s just regular bacon, but she told me she didn’t like it. Reindeer bacon is soooo much tastier, apparently.”
I laughed again. “In that case, bacon sounds ah-mazing.”
“Oh good. I saved Dancer just for you.” He kissed me again.
I went to the coffee maker and poured a cup. “Where are Roman and Elisabeth?”
A loud sizzle filled the kitchen as he added more bacon to the pan. “They went out to grab a few last-minute things for tomorrow. Oh, that reminds me. The last of the packages”—his gaze flashed to Tessa—“arrived. We’re all set for tonight.”
I smiled, stirring milk and sugar into my coffee.
Tessa and I hadn’t left the house since we’d arrived almost a month earlier. It wasn’t safe, not while Walt was still out there. So, with Christmas fast approaching, Heath had insisted we go online and do some shopping for Tessa. I felt like a mooch with no way to so much as buy gifts for my daughter, so I added exactly three items to the online cart.
Heath frowned and then took the computer from my lap, adding approximately two dozen toys before pulling his credit card from his wallet and buying them all. I bit my lip, overwhelmed with gratitude.
He kissed my temple and pulled me into a hug, muttering, “I’ve got you, Clare. Both of you.”
