Love Complicated (Ex's and Oh's Book 1)

by Shey Stahl

  He laughs. Again. Through most of the video and then hands my phone back to me. “It was terrifying. Can we just have sex with no fruit now?”

  “Sure.”

  “You sound so thrilled.”

  “I just. . . .” I pause, nearly losing my courage but then I think, it’s Ridge. I shouldn’t be afraid to tell him anything. Not like I was with Austin. And the new me says what she’s feeling, or thinking in this case. “Well. . . a guy like you, you’ve probably been deep throated and sucked off by the best of them, and I’m not very good at it.”

  The laughing finally stops and he kind of looks upset again? “Why would you think that?”

  “Because you’ve had a lot of sex. I’ve only been with Austin.”

  Two warm fingers slip under my chin, and he forces me to look at him. “Still doesn’t mean you’re not good at it,” he points out. “And for the record, I haven’t had a lot of sex.”

  He has a point. But I do call him out on his last statement. “Bullshit you haven’t had a lot of sex.”

  “I think in not so many words you called me a whore.”

  It’s my turn to smile. “You kinda are.”

  “You’re the only girl I’ve fucked in the last twenty-four hours. A whore would have at least a few a day.”

  I shove at his shoulder, knowing he’s teasing me now. We fall backward on his bed. His hands come up, framing my face as he kisses me, slowly.

  He moves quickly, letting go of the hesitation he had with the grapefruit incident. Leaning down a little closer, I can taste the sourness on my lips as he kisses me hard but slow, deep, speaking for the desire he hasn’t let go of.

  I close my eyes, holding on to him as tightly as I can, my hands slipping from his shoulders when he pries them off, holding them above my head.

  My legs wrap around his waist, my feet resting on his calves, the muscles in his legs flexing with the movement of his hips.

  When he gives me all his weight, he trembles, grinding his hard cock between my wet folds. His movement tense, fast but slow at the same time, savoring the feeling. “Fuck,” he breathes, gripping me harder, rocking faster, deeper, the pain spreading like fire. “So much better than a grapefruit.”

  I want to smack him.

  He doesn’t use a condom this time, mostly because we ran out, but also because I’m on birth control and I don’t stop him. He’s not a whore like I said he was and I know he’s not sleeping with anyone but me. Maybe this is his way of telling me that? I don’t know. Ridge’s always been fairly cryptic.

  My head falls back, Ridge’s mouth capturing my cries of pleasure. He lets my hands go, and I pull against his shoulders, raising my head, my lips finding his collarbone, sliding across his skin.

  I feel him everywhere, all around me, inside me and my heart.

  Our lips brush tenderly, and I taste the sourness again. Ridge gasps into my mouth, his hips moving faster. This angry, loving man who’s always held a piece of my heart in his hands, he’s giving me himself so deeply I know there’s no going back from this.

  We are in over our heads. I know that. He knows it too, he believes it, but still, here we are, living in hidden moments tucked away in his trailer away from the rest of the world, loving dangerously.

  He hardens between my legs, moaning so low I swear he’s hurting—maybe he is—but then his breathing changes to panting, gasping and becomes unsteady, synchronizing with the rhythm of my heart.

  “I never want this to end,” I whisper over my heartbeat pounding in my ears.

  Ridge holds me so close I cry out against his shoulder. His nose brushes against mine. “Never,” he promises, shaking his head slightly. “Never, Aly.”

  “Ridge,” I pant into his mouth, my legs burning, my body on fire with need.

  I don’t realize he’s stopped his moving until I felt him gasp again, his breathing beginning to even out but not making any movements. He touches his nose and forehead to mine. Kissing my top lip, my bottom one, his breathing slowing.

  He blinks, his eyes on mine, wanting, loving, needing me in more ways that he’ll ever admit. “You were mine before you were his,” he says against my lips. “Mine.”

  “I know,” I whisper, kissing his top lip, his bottom one, just like he did mine. There’s so much truth to his words. I was Ridge’s long before Austin’s. “Keep kissing me. Don’t stop—”

  His lips are on mine before I get the rest of the words out. He kisses me with his tongue and his lips, loves me with his body, not his words, and I can feel his heart beating in his chest, thumping hard and fast against my own.

  I bet you’re wondering about the painful urination part of the experiment, aren’t you?

  I was too, and I watch him like a hawk later that night. It’s around midnight, and I’m curled up with his velvet sheets when I notice the door to the bathroom close behind him.

  I wait thinking I’m going to hear him screaming in pain and while I’m waiting for it to happen, I hear him laugh.

  “Why are you laughing?” I ask, smiling to myself.

  “My dick is sticky,” he mumbles.

  Well, apparently it doesn’t burn, but it’s sticky. I think I’ll stick to “regular” sex in the future. Or maybe at least try the exploding whip cream blow job.

  As you might have guessed, I wasn’t excited about the holidays this year, but then again, I am. I’ll get to the good stuff soon, but the bad always comes before the good.

  For now, you’re probably wondering the bad?

  Well, there’s certainly bad and his name starts with an A. Might as well end in an E as far as I’m concerned because I’ve never been more disappointed in him as I am now, and that’s fucking hard to accomplish after the shit he’s pulled in the last five months. By the way, our divorce was final two days ago. Thank fuck.

  After the incident at the house a week before Halloween, I was granted full custody of the boys pending a hearing.

  Guess who didn’t show up for the hearing?

  Austin.

  He didn’t call on Thanksgiving, either. It’s now Christmas Eve and guess who hasn’t called or asked to see his kids?

  Austin.

  He did send them each a gift, one I’m sure was picked out by Brie. They send fucking gift cards to Best Buy. How impersonal can you get? Even my neighbor put more thought into the boys’ gifts.

  They even had the nerve to sign the card, Dad and Brie and baby boy Lucas. I ripped the card up and threw it away. Too much?

  Probably, but I was pissed off he couldn’t come see his kids.

  Wanna know the worst part about this? The boys haven’t asked about Austin or asked to see him in over a month. I’d love to say this makes me happy, but it doesn’t. I feel bad for them not having him in their life.

  I’m in the kitchen making gingerbread cookies and attempting to perfect their faces when Ridge comes into the kitchen from outside. He sets an envelope on the island and takes one of the gingerbread cookies and bites the head off.

  Then spits it out in the garbage. “I hate ginger.”

  I laugh. “You hate all food.” It’s true. Ridge’s harder to cook for than the boys.

  “Not true.”

  Still trying to perfect the face on the gingerbread man, I nod toward the envelope. “What’s that?”

  He shrugs, palms against the counter, leaning in. His expression reminds me of the day in the school when I first saw him after ten years. “Open it and find out.”

  “Can you?” I hold up the tube of frosting. “I’m kinda in the middle of something.”

  Again, he shrugs. “Guess you don’t care then.” And then he takes two more cookies, leaving the headless one on the counter and disappears into the living room where the boys are playing some zombie video game.

  “Take that!” Cash yells. “I ate your face!”

  My curiosity gets the better of me, and I reach for the envelope. Inside is a legal form, and my heart races.

  I read through it, and it’s a
grant deed transferring shared ownership of Calistoga Speedway to me. That’s not what makes me cry. I had a feeling that was coming when he asked me to be the track promoter for the speedway this coming season. I agreed because I wanted to do something like that since I was a kid. Now I finally can.

  What makes me cry is who he names as the beneficiaries. Equal rights to Cash Alan Jacob and Grady Nathan Jacob.

  My throat tightens, my stomach burning. I drop the papers in my hand, gripping the counter and draw in a deep breath trying to fight the lump rising in my throat.

  Nope. Not gonna work this time. I rush to the bathroom and vomit.

  I’m not sick.

  I’m emotional.

  I’m in love.

  I’m pregnant and relieved to have a man in my life who’s thinking of more than himself.

  I know, you’re shocked. I slipped the pregnancy in there, didn’t I?

  Had to. It slipped in on us too.

  There’s a knock at the door, soft and subtle and Ridge asks, “You okay?”

  “Yeah. Be out in a minute.” I brush my teeth, run water over my face and then step out to find Ridge leaning into the wall, his arms crossed over his chest.

  He’s smiling, but there’s concern in his features. “How long does morning sickness last?”

  I breathe out slowly, shaky, nervous. . . and then lean into the wall across from him, my hands flat against the wall. I think about the papers, and I don’t ask him about the grant deed. I know why he did it. “Usually the first trimester but with the boys, I was sick through the whole pregnancy,” I answer, falling deeper in love with him.

  A smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. He steps forward, closing the distance between us. His left hand rests on my hip, then trails across my stomach. I’m not showing yet, I’m only ten weeks, but it doesn’t stop Ridge’s newfound obsession with the life growing inside of me. Life he had a hand in and would no doubt be a part of.

  His head dips forward, lips teasing at my ear. “Can we tell the boys tonight?”

  Our plan was to wait and tell them Christmas morning, but patience has never been Ridge’s strong suit. “If you want to.”

  He draws back. “I want to now.” And then he marches down the hall, and I’m thinking he’s going to tell them himself.

  I follow him, and when I enter the living room, he’s on the couch with both boys, one on each side of him. Ridge’s holding a card in his hand.

  I eye the three of them suspiciously. “What are you guys up to?”

  The boys giggle, and Ridge hands the card to me. No words. Just smiles from boys withholding secrets.

  Taking the card in my hands, I run my fingers of the construction paper they used, breathing in slow breaths of courage not to burst into tears just yet. I open it to find a handwritten note from the boys and a ring taped to it.

  I laugh, but underneath Grady’s note is one from Cash saying: No I Don’t!!!

  Tears burn my eyes and nose. There’s even a check yes or no box.

  I look up at Ridge. He’s full of surprises today. “Do you have a pen?” I ask, tears released.

  He winks and pulls a red crayon from his pocket. “I do.”

  Do you notice the way he says I do?”

  Me, too.

  Taking the red crayon from him, warm fingertips brush mine in the exchange, his heat undeniable. There’s nothing cold about this man.

  My eyes drift to Cash first. His expressions hopeful, his demeanor almost giddy. He winks at me; a gesture he’s learnt from Ridge. It’s his okay. His approval.

  I move my fingertips over the simple diamond ring and then look to Grady, who’s standing now, his hands on Ridge’s shoulder, his excitement unable to be contained as he jumps around. “Say yes, Mom. Say yes!”

  Taking the crayon between my fingers, my eyes meet Ridge’s as I check the box. His breath draws in, as though he’s waiting on my answer for his next breath.

  Handing it back to him, Ridge leans forward, taking it from me. His lids lower to my answer.

  I watch his chest move, his exhale, his relief.

  He nods, his jaw tense, and I notice his hands are shaking. I’d give anything to know what he’s thinking.

  Scooting forward on the couch, he kneels in front of me and takes the ring from the card, placing it on my finger. Leaning in, he holds my gaze and hand. “This one stays forever.” And then he presses his lips to mine.

  Did you burst into tears yet? I nearly do.

  “Did she check yes?” Grady asks, reaching for the card.

  Cash slaps his shoulder. “Yes, dummy. That’s why he put the ring on her finger.”

  “That means you can’t give it to Arrow now,” Grady teases, shoving Cash.

  He growls at his brother. “I don’t like that girl!”

  While the boys tease, push and shove, Ridge pulls me on his lap. “Hey, dudes, we got something else to tell you.”

  They both turn, and you can immediately tell they’re not sure what that means. Last time they heard those words, Austin told them he didn’t love me anymore and was moving out.

  With the Christmas tree shimmering behind them, bright reds, greens, and blues contrasting against the worried sky-blue in their eyes, I start bawling and stare down at the ring on my finger.

  How’d this happen? How’d I go from getting a divorce to getting engaged in the same year?

  Ridge looks to me for approval, and when I nod, he’s about as giddy as the boys had just been. “Your mom is gonna have a baby.”

  The boys don’t say anything at first. They really don’t need to say anything at all because their beaming smiles are enough.

  “Really?” Grady asks. “We’re gonna be big brothers?”

  “Cool.” Cash nods, then glares at Grady. “I’d like a sister this time.”

  I’m an emotional shit show of tears while Ridge is the one holding it all together, like usual.

  The boys move on pretty quickly to counting the presents under the tree. Ridge’s arms tighten around me, and I lean my back against his shoulder. He kisses my temple, his lips lingering as I lift my hand staring at the ring once again.

  “I hope you like it. You’re never taking it off,” he teases, but we both know he’s not teasing.

  “I love it and I love you.”

  You’re in love with him too, aren’t you? Too bad. He’s all mine.

  Everyone wants to fall in love. Why?

  Because it’s the only experience in life where you feel completely alive. Everything inside you is heightened, every emotion magnified. It may only last a moment, a night, an hour, an afternoon, but it doesn’t discount the value of falling.

  “I love you,” he whispers, his eyes tender and bright. I want this look for the next sixty years.

  After my divorce, I felt unloved, unwanted, undeniably broken. I took comfort in knowing starting over wasn’t a bad thing. Sometimes it’s exactly what you need.

  Love’s complicated. It’s not meant to be perfect.

  “What’s her name?” Grady asks, staring down at his newborn sister in my arms.

  “We haven’t named her yet,” I tell him, kissing the side of his head, trying like hell not to cry. “We wanted you guys to help us. What should we name her?”

  Aly’s crying. She hasn’t stopped for the last nine months. Believe me. She cried the day she found out she was pregnant, the day we told the boys, the day I asked her to marry me, and the day we exchanged vows, forever. Oh, and she cried the day we moved in to my house and rented hers out because well, she’s Aly and she cries.

  I’ll tell you what though, I will never go back on the promises I’ve made her. And now, the day she brings our little girl into the world, she cries again.

  I nudge Cash, who’s on the other side of me, looking at his sister. “You happy, dude?”

  He smiles and nods. “Can we name her Judith?”

  Ah, yes, the kid in The Walking Dead. I want to laugh, but the glare Aly gives me shuts me up. “Maybe so
mething a little more modern?” I suggest, winking at my wife.

  Cash frowns, and then Grady knocks me in the head in his rush to stand up. “What about Renly?”

  Cash perks up. “Yeah, Renly!”

  Can you tell what show we moved onto? Game of Thrones. But Renly isn’t bad. I raise an eyebrow and look at Aly. She winks. Her approval. “Renly it is.”

  As I rock our baby girl, I stare down at her. Her tiny features remind me of Aly, but I can see myself in there as well. She’s the perfect mix of the two of us blended together.

  She has my black hair and dark eyes, but Aly’s chin and cheeks.

  I have a daughter. Crazy thought, huh? I’m a dad. Not only am I going to have to get a gun, but I know she changes everything.

  It feels almost anomalous to think I gave life to another human being. I kind of fell into the lifestyle of being a dad to Cash and Grady, and though I never looked back and have loved being around them from day one, I always knew they weren’t mine. Someone else will always be their father. It certainly doesn’t stop the love I have for them in any way.

  But this little girl, she’s a part of me. I could never let another man raise her, but I can also understand Mike’s decision to raise me, even though I wasn’t technically his son. How can you walk away from something so innocent and precious?

  Renly looks up at me and I know, just like her mother, I can never deny her anything. Gently rocking her, I hum softly and think to myself she probably has no idea what she’s looking at. Either that or she’s thinking, I chose this dude as my dad?

  The thought makes me chuckle.

  There’s a shift next to me, and I notice both boys have gotten into bed with Aly, snuggling against her. Her cheeks are flushed from the exertion she put forth today. She’s still fucking beautiful, and she had just given me the best gift anyone could have possibly given me.

  She made me a dad.

  A tiny hand frees from the blanket, and Renly’s delicate fingers curl around my pinky. I smile down at her, so pure and innocent.

  My daughter.

  For months, I prepared myself for the idea of having a daughter, and my gut instinct told me Aly was carrying a girl even though the ultrasounds revealed nothing. I had no idea how to act around a girl. With Cash and Grady, it’s easy. I relate to them. With Renly, will I know what to do? And what happens when she gets older? And dating?