“I don’t know,” she says with a shrug. “Maybe I’m just feeling insecure about this summer. A lot can happen in six weeks.”
I pull back from her and look her straight in the eyes. “The only thing that will happen is that I will fall even more in love with you . . . if that’s even possible.”
She smiles at me and then looks over at the bouquet of flowers on the nightstand. She reaches out to pull one free from the vase, studying it. “Do you want to know why I was so surprised when my dad told you to get me purple orchids?”
“Sure.” I wrap my arm around her as she settles her head into my neck, holding the flower over my chest so that we can both see it.
“When I was growing up, my dad would sometimes bring my mom flowers. You know, the usual roses for birthdays and anniversaries. But one day, when I was five years old, he came home with a huge bouquet of the most beautiful purple flowers.
“I had never seen my mom so happy. She was so happy that she cried. My dad picked her up and twirled her around as they laughed and kissed each other for what seemed like forever. For days afterwards, I watched her and was mesmerized by how his bringing her flowers had made her float around almost like a fairy princess.”
Baylor plucks a silky petal from the stem and rubs it between her fingers.
“I told my dad that I thought the flowers were magical because they made my mom so happy. And apparently, after that conversation, he researched the flowers and later told me that purple orchids represented love and beauty and are known as the ‘true queen’ of all flowers. Just like he thought my mom was his true queen. I told him that one day my prince would bring me purple orchids. And for years after that, I often drew fairytale pictures of purple flowers and princes.
“Of course I had no idea at the time that the real reason for my mom’s reaction was that their loan for Mitchell’s had come through and they were going to open their very first restaurant. He had brought the flowers home with the exciting news.” She shakes her head and her breathy laughter washes over my chest. “I overheard my dad telling the story to his sister when I was twelve. But it didn’t matter, I was so enamored with the flowers by then that nothing would have ruined the fantasy.
“So when you showed up that day, telling me my dad said you should bring me those flowers, it felt like he was giving us his blessing or something and that you were my . . . well, it’s silly, I know.”
She blushes as I take the flower from her and bring her hand up to my lips. “It’s not silly. It’s a five-year-old’s fairy tale,” I say. “And I want to be that guy. That guy who makes you so happy that you cry. That guy who makes you float around for days.” I kiss the tip of her nose. “I swear I’ll always bring you purple orchids, darlin’.”
“Oh, Gavin,” she whimpers with glistening eyes, “please tell me everything will be okay. Tell me it will go by quickly and we’ll talk every day and I don’t have anything to worry about.”
I kiss her temple. “Yes. To all of that,” I say. “Don’t you know by now that I’m yours? You own me. You might as well put a fucking ear-tag on me and brand your name on my ass, because there’s no way in hell I’ll ever be good for anyone but you.”
She giggles. “I might well do that,” she says in her best southern drawl, causing me to laugh.
“Hey, I almost forgot.” I reach over and pull open my nightstand drawer. “I have a surprise for you.” I grab the printout of my itinerary and hand it to her.
She takes a minute to read through it as her lips turn up and her face all but splits in two from the smile plastered on it. “Two weeks?” she squeals. “You’re coming for two whole weeks?”
“I already cleared it with your dad,” I tell her. “He even insisted I stay at your house.”
She drops the piece of paper. “You called my dad to ask?” She shakes her head. Then she does something truly amazing. She reaches over to get my cowboy hat, putting it on her head. Then she climbs on top of me, straddling me naked in the bright morning light. “I love you, Gavin Maddox McBride.”
“Show me how much, darlin’,” I demand as I spring to life underneath her.
Her eyes darken as they trail a path across my chest, burning into me as she takes possession of me solely with her gaze. She devours me with those sultry hooded eyes as if we hadn’t just had sex mere hours ago.
I haven’t even touched her yet, but her nipples get hard and pucker as she grinds her hips into me. I sit up and lean against the headboard, keeping her on my lap, putting myself in a perfect position to suck her tits. I take one in my mouth, laving it while my fingers pinch and tug at her other one. She moans and throws her head back, thrusting her chest even harder against my mouth. I can feel her wetness spreading over my dick and thighs as she writhes on top of me.
I throb painfully beneath her, swollen with intense desire for this perfect being that straddles me. I can tell she’s close from merely rubbing her slick clit over me. “God, Bay, I can smell how much you want me. You are so damn sexy.”
I resume sucking, licking and flicking her nipples with my tongue as I let her rub herself off on my cock. I look up at her just as she screams, “Oh, God, Gavin . . . oh, God.”
She thrashes about as she spasms on top of me, her orgasm washing through her. It’s an amazing thing to witness, Baylor coming all over my leg wearing nothing but my cowboy hat. I almost lose it myself, but I do everything I can to hold out because I want nothing more than to be buried in her when I come.
She’s still quivering beneath me when I flip her onto her back, and I quickly reach into my nightstand for a condom. I put it on in record time and then sheath myself inside her slick entrance before she can fully recover from her climax.
She opens her eyes as I hit the end of her. I still myself and savor the feeling of her tight walls surrounding me completely. We lock eyes and every emotion we’ve been feeling comes across without so much as a single word.
I know she’ll be leaving soon, in a few hours in fact, and we’ll barely see each other all week. We are both well aware of this, so we’ve made the most of our time together and fucked a lot in the past twenty-four hours. We fucked in my bed. We fucked in my chair. We fucked in the shower and on the floor. But right now, with our gazes holding each other and our bodies melded together as if we’re one—we make love. We make love like we’ve never done before. I start to move within her and every stroke is a testament of my love for this girl. Every gentle thrust a sonnet of my overflowing emotions. Every kiss across her soft lips a promise of our future.
“Tell me you love me, Bay,” I beg. “Tell me you’ll always be mine.”
“Yes, Gavin. I’m yours,” she declares as tears slip out of her unforgettable eyes. “I love you. No matter what happens, I’ll always love you.”
Her words milk my throbbing shaft and send me into a pulsating orgasm as I place my thumb on her clit to make sure I bring her right along with me.
chapter twenty-one
After our day and night together on Saturday, I’ve only seen Baylor twice. We had lunch on Monday, and I saw her during our Film Studies final. It’s Thursday and that’s all we’ve seen of each other—it’s all she’s given me.
I understand the demands of her job at the paper, especially as they wrap things up this week. And I know she won’t skip her volunteering time, since she’s already sad about not seeing those kids all summer. But dammit, between those and school, I can’t help but think, quite selfishly, that I’m pretty far down on the proverbial totem pole.
She even missed both our runs this week. That’s always been our time. Hell, we even did it over winter break. We plan to do it all summer. Now it’s become one more thing on her plate that gets pushed aside.
Fuck.
I need to get my head out of my ass. Last Saturday was amazing and I need to remind myself of that. It’s not too hard to do right now as I watch Baylor walk towards me with a sweet smile that shows off her beautiful dimple. She throws her arms around me and
says, “Miss me?”
“No,” I say.
“Liar,” she responds.
“Like you wouldn’t fuckin’ believe,” I say.
She laughs and I give her a kiss. Then I pull her behind me into the classroom so we can go take our philosophy exam.
Two hours and one headache later, we’re done with the final and we head over to the student union for lunch.
“They shouldn’t be allowed to schedule finals at night,” she says. “But at least I’ve only got one more and then I’m done with freshman year.” Her eyes brighten.
I try not to think of how after lunch, Bay will be meeting Chris for a last-minute study session before the final they have tonight.
She seems distracted while we eat. I know it’s probably the upcoming test stressing her out. Econ is her hardest class and she’s worked her ass off to do well in it. She’s got a borderline A, so the final will determine her grade. Lucky for me, Asswipe has been all too eager to help her with her studies.
She leaves most of her food untouched as she silently picks at an invisible spot on the table. A lock of hair falls onto her face and I’m not even sure she’s aware of it. It’s physically painful for me to see her stressing out this much, but even the crinkle in her brow and the frown on her face can’t keep her from looking beautiful. I’m just not sure if it’s school or our impending separation that’s got her so depressed.
“You know you’ll do great and that everything will work out,” I say.
She stares at her finger that is working back and forth on the table.
“You know I love you, right Bay?” I ask.
She’s lost to the world and again doesn’t reply. I reach over and push her hair back behind her ear. “Darlin’?” I run my hand down her cheek. “Did you hear me?”
“Huh?” She finally snaps her eyes to mine as if she’d forgotten I was even here. I can’t help the wave of sadness that courses through me. “Sorry. You were saying something?” she asks.
“Only that I love you, and that everything will be okay.”
“Oh.” She smiles up at me.
“Now you say it,” I say.
“What?”
“You say you love me,” I tell her. “That’s how it works. I say I love you and you say it back.”
“Sorry.” She shakes her head. “Of course I love you, Gavin. I’m just distracted by . . . well, everything.”
“Hey. Cheer up,” I say. “One last final for each of us and then we’ll be done. Don’t forget to meet me at my house at noon tomorrow. Don’t be late, and make sure all your packing is done before you come. I only get you for five hours and I plan to make the most of every minute.” I squeeze her hand for emphasis.
She giggles. And blushes. There’s my girl.
Tomorrow at noon. That’s when I get my Baylor back—well, for five hours anyway.
A couple walks by our table as we get up to leave and I laugh at their ‘Thing 1’ and ‘Thing 2’ shirts. I ask Baylor, “Who’s ‘Thing 1’?”
“What?” She piles her barely-eaten sandwich onto my tray.
“You know, ‘Thing 1’,” I say, pointing at the couple walking away. “You have a ‘Thing 2’ shirt. Who’s ‘Thing 1’?”
“Oh.” She smiles and thinks on it for a beat. “Nobody, actually,” she says. “I got it by myself during one of my rebellious high school phases. It was a reminder that I didn’t need anyone else. It’s stupid, I know.”
I shake my head and laugh at my independent girl. Then I kiss her goodbye.
“See you tomorrow at noon, McBride,” she says.
“Not if I see you first, Mitchell.” I wink. She smiles. We part.
Finally!
I close my blue book to my last exam and get up to place it on the table at the front. The TA gives me a nod and I give him a half-smile. I’ve been preoccupied the entire morning after that cryptic text from Baylor earlier. She sent it to me at ten o’clock, right before my test.
Baylor: We need to talk. Can you swing by my dorm right after your test?
Me: What about just meeting at my house like we planned? And I plan on doing a hell of a lot more than talking
Baylor: I thought we could talk first and I didn’t want to be interrupted by your roommates.
I got a funny feeling in the pit of my stomach.
Me: What’s wrong, Bay?
Baylor: I’ll tell you when we are alone. We need to talk in person. Please, just come here as soon as you are done with your exam.
Me: Of course, darlin’. I’ll do my best to hurry.
Baylor: No! Don’t do that. Give your test proper attention and I’ll see you right after.
As I leave the building, I re-read the texts and realize that none of them have her usual abbreviations or smiley faces. Shit. What’s going on with her?
On my way to her dorm, I spot Karen running over to me with a sad smile on her face. “Gavin, we need to talk,” she says, hooking an arm around my elbow.
What is it with women and their need to talk today? “Karen, we have the next six weeks to talk. Right now, Baylor needs me and I only have five more hours with her.”
“Gavin, this is about Baylor,” she says, stopping me in my tracks. I look at her with questioning eyes. “Just give me five minutes. That’s all I ask. Remember when we said we’d always be there for each other? Well, this is one of those times.” She pulls on my elbow. “Let’s sit down over there. Please, Gavin?”
I blow out a breath. “Five minutes,” I say, reluctantly letting her pull me over to the side of the building.
We sit on a bench where she pulls out her phone and sighs deeply. “You know about this new Internet thing called Facebook, right?”
“Yeah. Jonesy showed it to me last month. Seems pretty stupid if you ask me. It didn’t look all that different from what I can do with texting, so I didn’t see the point.” I shake my head at her. “What’s all this about, Karen?”
“Well, it’s a lot more than texting, Gav. I need to show you something and I need you to know that I’m here for you.” She scoots closer to me and taps around on her phone. “We can leave now, this minute for Brazil if you want.”
“Why the hell would I want to do that?” I ask, incredulously.
“Just look.” She holds up her phone. “See here, this is Baylor’s Facebook page.” I take the phone from her and let my eyes wander over the picture of Baylor. I recognize the picture. I took it on my phone and sent it to her phone because I thought it was a really good one.
“Okay,” I say to Karen. “I still don’t see the point of this conversation.” I’m getting impatient and want to get to Baylor.
“Look closely,” she says. She leans over and taps on the screen and more photos of Bay come up. Photos of not only Bay, but Bay and Asswipe. In fact, he’s in almost every one. I scroll through them as my heart rate increases and my gaze hardens. There are pictures of them eating together, one has them holding hands, and there’s even one of them kissing. My blood starts to boil as I realize there’s none of me. Not one picture.
Then it dawns on me and a wave of relief surges through my body. Duh, I think to myself. They were all from last semester when they were dating. She probably stopped using Facebook when we got together.
“Karen, why are you dredging this shit up? All of these pictures of her and Chris are obviously from last fall. They used to date. You know that.”
I try to hand the phone to her but she pushes it back at me. “No, Gavin. Look.” She taps on it. “This is called her ‘wall’ and it shows any status updates that she writes. Anyone can see them, but only Baylor can write things. You can even see the dates that she did it.”
I’m only somewhat familiar with the program. Jonesy will sometimes show me updates from a few friends of his that post ridiculous pictures and messages on their ‘walls.’
Karen puts a comforting hand on my leg. “Scroll down through the messages, Gav. I’m so sorry, sweetie, but it seems like Baylor’s not been
honest with you.”
My heart beats into my chest wall as I do what she says and scroll through the status messages that Baylor wrote on her wall. There are a lot of pictures along with the messages. Mostly of her and Chris, but some of only her. I recognize a few of the pictures of her as recent.
I read the first thing I see on her page. It says, ‘Have to do something very hard today, but it’s for the best. I’m done playing, I’ve made my choice. I have to follow my heart, ya know?’ I see that the status is dated today, and the time stamp is about an hour after she texted me that we needed to talk.
I read the next post. It’s from last night. There’s a picture of her with Chris. It says, ‘Study time over. Time to play!’
My hands are sweating and I wipe one on my jeans before scrolling down to read more. One from last week reads, ‘Why should only guys be allowed to play the field? How come when a guy does it, he’s cool, but girls are called sluts?’
I see one dated the day of our fight. It simply says, ‘Guys are dicks.’
One from the week of spring break reads, ‘A girl’s gotta have something to do while the cat’s away – back in Maple Creek.’
I read message after message that she’s written about college being all about sewing oats and playing around. I read everything, back to the day we started dating. On January 24th, the day I asked her to be my girlfriend, her status reads, ‘Score! Love it when they play right into my hands.’
But the one that really guts me, the one that cuts me the deepest, is the one that reads, ‘Two guys in one day. The beast has been unleashed. Why did I never do this before?’
I can’t read anymore. I shove the phone at Karen. None of this makes any sense. This is some kind of practical joke. I know Baylor, she’s not like that at all. I get up and start walking towards her dorm. I have to see her.
The Mitchell Sisters: A Complete Romance Series (3-Book Box Set) Page 15
