“He’s right honey,” Cammy agrees, bending over the couch to kiss Johnathan on the cheek. “Eric needs a hat and blanket…this way.” She waves me to follow and her I do, trying to ignore the tension building in me. I don’t have a single clue what Emily ever saw in Johnathan; it’s blatantly clear he’s not done any leg work in trying to educate himself in being a parent. While I was away, I read eight parenting books and numerous articles. I’m not an expert by any means, but I refused to walk into this role lightly.
In the laundry room, Cammy gently covers Eric’s head and tosses a blue crocheted blanket over my shoulder.
“He likes you, I always knew he would. He’s probably missed you and didn’t even know it until you held him this morning,” Cammy sweetly confesses, rubbing my son's tiny hand.
“She’s missed you a lot too…Ya know? ... Emily’s been lost. I’m glad you came home for her sake as well as mine. This might help Johnathan finally get over his obsession. I know he’s told her he’s done. But I’ve heard him fucking her in his sleep. He dreams about making love to her and it kills me. Even though there isn’t anything I can do about the dreams, neither can he and he rarely remembers them. It doesn’t feel good to hear your man moaning her name. And in the morning with a big smile, tells you how much he loves you. It’s not easy, James. I know being with her can’t be, not when you’re living here under the same roof as him. But it’s good for her and all of us to be close. I hope you can accept that and stay.”
Wow, she’s opening up to me. I hardly know the woman. She’s never confided in me before. Maybe she hopes I’ll be her ally in all of this. I can’t blame her for being upset about his dreams. They make me angry that he would not only dream about my lady, but hurt Cammy. It’s written in deep creases across her china doll face. I feel sorry for the woman. Any female to put up with Johnathan has to be a saint. There are no ifs ands or buts about it.
“It’s okay Cammy.” I clasp her over the shoulder, “I’m not leaving ever again, and if you need someone to talk to about him, I’ll listen. I’m not a big fan of the guy salivating over my lady. But I’m here and I’m here to stay.”
We talk a few more moments and I take off and out the back door, with my son wrapped tightly in his blanket, fully awake with big green eyes taking in the bright colors.
Dropping down onto a lounger, I rest, with him sitting in my lap, his back laying against my stomach. Wobbly, his body sways trying to keep his head from toppling over. My son is beyond adorable. I feel whole when I know he’s within the same vicinity as his mom and Jenna. They are all that matters.
***
“Dinner's ready, handsome,” my sexy woman calls from the back door.
She’s been slaving over a hot stove for the past three hours cooking up a grand ol’ feast for me, Stacy, Kyle, Johnathan, Cammy and Deacon. I’m still soaking in the California weather as dusk sets in and my kids are sleeping inside, in their cribs, after I helped bathe them, feed them and clothe them. Emily let me do it all and was more than surprised to see I was as capable as I am. To be honest, I was extremely nervous the entire time, but I tried to hold it in, in fear of scaring her. I don’t want her to question my ability to care for our twins. I know she doesn’t trust Johnathan, she told me that twice today, when I was scrubbing the twins and handing their tiny naked bodies over for her to dry them off and diaper them. I did the rest.
I plan on discussing the upcoming wedding with the family tonight over dinner. I haven’t exactly ran that by Emily but I’m not going to wait much longer. She has a month, tops, to walk down whatever aisle she chooses. If she wants to elope in Vegas, I’ll do it. If she seeks something fancy like a three hundred thousand dollar rocker wedding, then so be it. I don’t care. The only thing that matters in the end is her last name is changed to James and I will be her husband. The rest is just semantics.
Slugging myself out of the lounger and down the deck steps, I slide open the door and pop into the house. It smells amazing!
“What did you cook, sweetheart?” I ask, walking into the kitchen, watching her supple body tossing a leafy green salad, clad in a blue dress and a vintage lacey apron around her waist. She looks like a hot pinup straight out the fifties. Her hair in a messy bun resting on the top of her head. Sexy—is the first word that comes to mind.
“I’m making you, Papa Bear, some dinner, now shoo…. You can’t see it all.” She brushes me off and I chuckle, leaving her to her duties. I attempted to help her about two hours ago but I was quickly spanked on the behind and pushed from the confines of the kitchen, to be sequestered with either my sleeping twins or the back deck. I refused to stay inside with Johnathan. Getting used to being around him daily, not as my employer, will take some time.
Entering the dining room right off the living room, I take a seat on one of the high back, pretentious wooden arm chairs with stiff cream cushions. I know Emily didn’t pick this twelve seated dining room set up. This has Johnathan written all over it. It’s so heavily varnished, that it looks like water is sitting on top of the finest wood. Not sure why he selected such an uptight set for this house, but it is his house to decide what he chooses to do with it. Including the furniture.
It doesn’t take but a few minutes for the majority of the seats to be filled with Emily’s closest friends. Stacy and his boyfriend Kyle sit across from me, Johnathan takes the head of the table, Deacon pops down next to me with a ‘Hey man’ and Cammy, along with my beautiful woman come strolling into the room arms full of delicious foods. Shrimp Alfredo, crab bisque, a colorful salad, cheddar biscuits, steamed mussels in a garlic infused white wine sauce and chicken Kiev are all served family style in fancy chinaware. Mint green napkins are folded fancifully around our dinner fork, salad fork and knife. We have one plate and a bowl to serve ourselves and I can’t help but relish in the fact that the two prettiest hands on the planet just made us this entire feast—all on her own, I might add.
“Bon Appetite!” She kisses her fingers and gestures spiritedly with a giant smile plastered on her face, toward the vast array of delicious culinary creations.
“Here, sweetie.” I stand and slide out her chair next to me.
“Why thank you, sir.” She bows slightly and eloquently sits herself on the chair which I then scoot in for her.
I watch her out of the corner of my eye as she talks vivaciously with her friends, flashing nothing but smiles, her hand forever planted on the top of my right thigh as she eats. I don’t have much to say and I enjoy listening to her talking about business, me coming home, the babies, basically catching up with the important people. Every so often she squeezes my knee or blows me a kiss with a wink. That’s all the assurance I need, to know she loves me.
“Papa,” She turns to me.
“Yes?”
“Why aren’t you talking with us?”
What do I say? I’ve never been much for words, except with her. I’ve probably spoken more in the past year than my entire life. I’ve always been a man of few words, a man of observation and reflection. Not of socializing. It’s not me.
“I’m just listening to you, that’s all I need.” I shoot her a reassuring smile and she returns to her food and being the sweet sassy socialite she is. She can’t have a PR degree and not know how to use it.
Sitting here and reveling in my life, this must be what a committed domesticated man feels like? I never saw myself being one of those men. But in my forties I’ve been proven wrong. I enjoy every minute of it. Sitting with Eric on the deck today was beyond relaxing and serene. I got to watch and experience my son. To touch his soft skin, see his green eyes searching the world. There is nothing more beautiful or precious than being a father. Talking to him and his sister as they lived inside of Mama Bear, was spectacular. But to experience that same devotion with him outside of the womb, knowing he knows your smell, your heart, your voice, it’s enough to bring a man to his knees with divine gratefulness.
“So James, what do you have planned?” Kyle inquir
ies from across the table, sipping on a glass of red wine.
“I don’t know. I was worried about coming home and marrying Emily. I will probably pick up in my investments and start trading more often in the market. Other than that, I don’t know.” I shrug.
“Marrying?” Johnathan nearly chokes on his shrimp.
“Yes, marrying her. She is my fiancé.” I raise her hand off my knee to show him the big fat diamond on her dainty hand.
“You broke that off. She isn’t your fiancé any longer. You left.”
Stubborn Johnathan, little do you know. And arguing with me isn’t going to change the fact that I am going to marry the woman you want to be with. She’s not yours. She never was. She’s mine.
Leaning back in the chair, I hold her hand in mine and get comfortable. I can’t lash out even though that’s the first thing that comes to mind when I think of how I want to deal with him. I want to bash his face in. But I won’t, that’s his moneymaker.
“You...”
Emily, cuts me off. “Johnathan we are getting married. James is going to be my husband and the sooner I walk down that aisle the better. I want to be with him. He didn’t leave me on purpose and he fought to come home to me...”
“But he did leave, he doesn’t want you. Or he wouldn’t have broken your heart and broken the engagement.” He folds his arms across his chest and he too leans back in his chair. Offering an air of defiance and anger to cloud him.
I’ve had about enough of his lip already, no one will talk to her that way.
“Listen,” I boom, my voice widening everyone’s eyes in the room except his and Emily’s. “I will…”
“Honey, please,” she cuts me off again with a sweet smile. “Let me deal with this.”
I nod, giving her the floor, before I lose my cool. I might need to take a brisk run down the beach before this is over.
“Johnathan, he might have called if off. But it wasn’t malicious. It was out of love for me. Don’t you see we are happy together?” She speaks so gentle and sweet to him, I can’t believe that she’s being so comforting. I realize she is treading lightly for his benefit. But, come on, the man needs to get this fact though his thick skull.
“I don’t give a fuck Emily. He doesn’t belong with you!”
I don’t think so! That isn’t going to fly.
Furiously I stand up from my chair and it comes crashing down behind me.
“You do not speak to her that way!” I roughly chastise.
“Oh really? What are you going to do about it?” He stands up with obvious disregard to his own personal health. If I wanted him dead, it would take three seconds; he would do good to remember that.
“Johnathan, don’t make me show you. You don’t want that,” I bark, shaking my head. Stopping his temper tantrum would be good right about now. I don’t think I can control my anger much longer. I can feel my cool demeanor slipping.
Calm down man, keep it together. You can’t slip and add more problems. She doesn’t need that.
Breathing in deep, I concentrate on the inhale and exhale of oxygen, willing my fury to fade into mild resentment.
“Listen, you two! James, sit down.” Emily pushes me out of the way so she is standing between me and Johnathan. My arms instinctively shoot out and wrap around her, anchoring her tightly to me and she lets me. If he blows his top, I have to protect her and just touching her keeps me grounded. I need that right now.
“Now you listen here, Johnathan. You will get that sick fucking head out of your ass and think straight. You have Cammy.” Sharply, she points directly at his woman. “Do you realize what you acting like this does to her? One minute you want to be my friend, the next you ogle with your eyes and now you’re angry I want to be married and happy with the only man I love? Get the fuck over yourself. The world isn’t Johnathan’s world. It doesn’t revolve around your goddamned mood swings. Now man the fuck up and cut the shit. I am marrying James and that is final. Take it or leave it. You either hop aboard the Emily and James train of get left at the station because asshole, I am marrying him. You are going to be happy for me and you are even going to attend the godforsaken wedding. You selfish, pompous, sadistic, dickhead. You got me?”
Wow, now that’s one hell of woman! I can almost see the fire smoking off her body with how enraged she is. She is staring right at him the entire time she lets loose. Is it wrong to say that I’m a little turned on at this protective display? Because my manhood is starting to wake up.
Turning around in my arms, she grabs my crotch and gives me a dirty smile.
“Come on honey, we are going to go fuck!” Pushing me backward, I follow her lead, I’m not going to argue if she wants me to service her. I’m more than a willing participant.
Looking over her shoulder, paying special attention to Johnathan, she says, “Now if you’ll excuse us, I have some time to make up for. Which includes having my pussy hammered by my Papa Bear's hot dick. You all enjoy your meals and clean up when you are done. I need to feed the whore.”
Enthralled with her strong sexiness, I follow her upstairs and to the guest bedroom. It’s show time.
Chapter Nineteen
~Emily~
Two weeks later- The Wedding
“You ready to get hitched, hot mama?” Stacy, my all adoring maid of honor, teases, pinning my silver, crystal encrusted tiara in my long flowing hair using bobby pins. This beauty was a present from him as my something new wedding gift. It’s gorgeous, heavy and probably cost him a small fortune.
“Yes, Stace, I’m more than ready.”
Smoothing my hands down the sides of my simple white flowy, strapless, sweetheart neckline wedding dress, I give myself a once over in my bathroom's floor length mirror. I really do look fabulous in this gown. My hair is down, no veil; those are too archaic, and I’m going barefoot with freshly French pedicured toes, adorning my simple silver anklet from Claire around my right ankle and I’ve never felt better.
“Voila!” Stace steps back to examine his masterpiece. He’s done everything, including my makeup and selecting my dress. My something blue is a darling solitaire sapphire necklace from Johnathan and Cammy. My mom, who’s tending to the twins, gave me her wedding garter as my something borrowed and James, my sweet sweet James, provided the something old, bequeathing me his fraternal grandfather’s embroidered J handkerchief. That I have gently tucked down the center of my cleavage for easy access, just in case I can’t stop a highly probable crying fit. Stacy’s already had to reapply my makeup twice because I’ve lost my proverbial nuts and bolts.
Shit, just thinking about crying and today, makes me want to cry! Damn it all to hell. Oh crap. I didn’t mean that. I meant, stupid eyeballs.
“No, stop,” Stacy scolds, shoving a tissue into my fanning hands that I have flapping close to my eyes, trying to dry my watery sockets.
“I can’t help it,” I blubber, dabbing my eyes before the spill over and smear my canvas.
“I know, it’s an emotional day for you darling, but you’ve gotta keep it together.”
“Five minutes,” Cammy says poking her head into my bathroom. “Wow, Emily you look beautiful. Maybe we should have thought twice about inviting Johnathan or maybe we should ask the preacher to skip over the; speak now or forever hold your peace, part.”
Chuckling, I toss the tear soaked tissue in the wicker trash can.
“He’ll be fine.”
I’m trying to reassure her, even though I’m not quite sure that’s the truth. Johnathan’s been a basket case for the better part of the last two weeks. The closer the wedding nears, the stranger and clingier he’s become, to Cammy mostly, but I’ve also had to bear the brunt. James has deterred him away from me a good majority of the time. But, last night he was sitting on the couch in the living room next to me when he sort of copped a feel, right after I unlatched Eric. Milk seeped from my nipple and he was the one to catch it with his finger and suck it into his mouth, groaning as soon as my milk touched his tongue.
It was highly erotic, if it was coming from my Bear, but coming from Johnathan it kind of freaked me out.
“I don’t...”
“Can I come in? Is she going to see me? Did you ask her?” Johnathan cuts her off, he’s frantic, sputtering words a million miles an hour. Today is not the day for this Johnathan. Can’t it wait until tomorrow?
“Hold on,” she snaps at him, and turns back to face me.
“Tell her, tell her, tell her I need to speak with her.”
Sweet Jesus, he has got to calm the fuck down. This hopped up on sugar shit’s got to go. After that day in the dining room, he’s not been as big of a jerk to James about marrying me. He’s tried—and I do mean tried, to climb aboard the wedding train. But he’s not quite there yet.
Ignoring him, she raises a brow and I give her the approval nod. The nod that gives her permission to allow him to see me. I’m not in the mood but I can’t let him ruin the ceremony without talking this out. I know he’s going to have plenty to say.
“Alright,” she huffs, pushing the bathroom door wide open and my spastic friend pushes past her and into the bathroom where he stops dead in his tracks, his eyes locking onto my wedding dress and he loses it. He falls to the ground and breaks into a fit of all out crying.
What is his deal?
I glance to Cammy and she appears to be more angry than worried about this outburst of emotions. I turn to see Stace and he’s watching Johnathan just as the rest of us are. Crying in a black suit and tie on my travertine floor. What do I do? Should I stop him? Today is not the day for emotional breakdowns unless you’re me, the Bride.
Staring down at Johnathan and back up to Cammy, in her pink summer dress and sandals, I mouth ‘go’ and she listens without a second thought. Shutting the door behind her as she leaves.
“Johnathan, what’s wrong?” I finally speak up, I still can’t believe he is acting this way.
Stricken Rock Series: Complete Box Set Page 88
