Worst mother-in-law who isn’t even my mother-in-law anymore ever.
*****
When Leah tells me I can have another week off, but it won’t be paid leave, I decide to take it anyway. Maybe I should go and surprise Dean? I begin to formulate a plan and look up ticket prices. When I find a good deal, I book it. Looks like I’m going to LA. In four days. Shit. I take my suitcase out from under my bed and open it up, then I start to pull out my clothes, choosing whatever I think I’ll need. I pack all the necessities, plus a few sexier outfits. Boots, sneakers, heels, and flats get thrown in there, and then I wonder if that’s too many shoes for just a week. I want to cover all bases though. I look in the mirror and smile, excitement filling me at the thought of seeing Dean again so soon. I send him a message asking for his address because I want to send him something, hoping that he doesn’t suspect anything, then continue getting ready for this spontaneous trip.
For once it’s me going to surprise him.
And I hope he loves it.
Chapter Twenty Two
When the cab stops at Dean’s house. I have to do a double take. It’s huge. I mean I knew it would be, but it’s a fucking mansion. I’ve never even been inside a house like this before.
“Ummm,” I mumble, paying the driver, who gets out and helps me take my suitcase. “Thank you,” I tell him, giving him a tip. He drives away and I drag my suitcase up to the front door. Luckily the giant gates out the front were open, although if I were him I wouldn’t leave them like that. What if some of his fans decide to pay him a visit? I knock on his front door, but there’s no answer. I call his phone, and lucky for me he picks up straight away.
“Babe?”
“Hey,” I say, smiling. “Where are you right now?”
“I’m at the studio. Why? Is everything okay?”
Do I just tell him that I’m here? So much for a surprise.
“Yeah,” I say, dragging out the word.
“What is it?” he says, sounding concerned. I hear him tell someone, “Give me a minute.”
“Dean—”
“You sound weird, what’s going on? I can’t fix it if you don’t tell me what it is.”
“Ummm.” I take a deep breath and decide to just tell him. “I’m in front of your house. Surprise.”
He’s quiet for a moment. “Babe, if this is a joke, it’s not cute.”
“I’m here, Dean. Your house is cream and black, and there are two cars out the front.”
“Fuck,” I hear him whisper. “Babe, holy shit! I would have come and picked you up from the airport.” I can hear the smile in his voice. “I’m on my way home now. Don’t move, Sabina.”
I look around. I’m not moving anywhere. I sit down on my suitcase after I lean it against the wall, and listen on the phone as I hear Dean getting into his car. He puts me on speakerphone.
“I can’t fucking believe you’re here. Today is the best day ever.”
“I wanted to surprise you but that was a fail.”
“Are you kidding me? I am surprised!” he says, sounding excited.
“Can you even just leave the studio like that?”
“Well, this is an emergency, so they will be fine with it.”
In twenty minutes, I see a car pull up.
It’s him.
I push off the wall and walk towards him, laughing as he gets out of the car and literally runs to me. He picks me up in the air, then lets my body rub against his as he lowers me until our lips are on each other’s. He carries me in his arms and I wrap my legs around him as he walks to the door and unlocks it with his key.
“My suitcase,” I remind him when he’s about to pass the threshold.
He puts me down, grabs my suitcase, puts it inside, and then closes the front door. I look around his house, and it’s beautiful. I’ve never seen anything like it. It’s all open, with glass doors.
“No time for that, babe, I’ll give you a tour later,” he says, picking me up again and walking up the stairs with me.
“Why do you leave your gate open? Isn’t that unsafe?”
“I usually don’t,” he explains. “But I’m glad I did or you’d have been waiting at the gate instead of the door.”
He opens the door to his room, and I eye the huge-ass bed in the middle. “Have many orgies?” I blurt out, then cringe, making him laugh.
“Not recently. Why, did you want to have one?”
I scowl.
He lays me back and says, “I’ve never even fucked anyone on this bed, Sabina. And I’ve never had an orgy, but thanks for thinking that about me.”
“The bed can fit like eight people at least.”
“Don’t act like you don’t like big things,” he fires back, making my jaw drop.
“Good one,” I admit.
Must give credit when it’s due.
He starts laughing, and continues to do so while he undresses me.
“I want to have a shower,” I tell him. “I’ve been travelling for almost a whole day. I don’t smell good.”
“You smell good to me,” he says, eying my now nakedness with heat in his eyes.
“Shower,” I demand.
“Okay,” he agrees, taking my hand and leading me to his bathroom.
“Wow” is all I can say when I see it. A huge shower, spa bath, and mirrors everywhere. “This is stunning.”
“Yes, I agree,” he says, but when I look at him I find his eyes on me.
“Dean,” I say, smiling.
As if unable to help himself, he tastes my lips, pulls away, and turns the shower on. I go in first, groaning at the feel of the hot water on my skin. His shower has the perfect pressure too. I’m about to tell him so when he jumps into the shower with me, his front pressed against my back. His hands cup my breasts, feeling them in his hands while his lips start to kiss down my neck.
“Dean—”
“I want you so badly right now, Sabina. Seeing you here.... You have no idea what it means to me.”
I turn around and wrap my arms around his neck, and he lifts me up and pushes my back against the cold tiles. Mouths connected, his hand slides between us and he starts to play with me, making sure I’m nice and wet for him. I can feel his hard cock pressed against my skin, more than ready to slide inside of me. When Dean feels how wet I am, he takes his cock and slowly starts to push inside.
“Yes,” I whisper against his lips.
It hasn’t even been that long since the last time we were together, maybe a week, but it feels like forever. My body misses him. He pumps in and out of me while kissing my lips, neck, and jawline. I score my nails down his back as I feel my orgasm approaching, biting down gently on his bottom lip.
“I’m going to come,” I say, closing my eyes.
“Open your eyes, Sabina,” he whispers, so I open them and look at him, my head resting back against the tiles, water dripping down every inch of me. He runs his thumb along the column of my throat, pressing gently as I begin to come, my thighs quaking as I’m lost in the moment of pleasure. When the last wave has passed, Dean slides out of me, spins me around so my cheek is pressed against the wall, and slides back into me from behind. I stick my ass out for him, giving him better access, moaning as he fucks me slow and deep, taking his time now. When he comes he says my name and buries his face in my neck, kissing me there sweetly.
He eventually pulls out of me, and he washes my body and my hair with his boy shampoo, the process sensual and one I’ve never experienced before. I’d never think to ask a guy to wash my hair, but it seems I really like it.
“That feels so good,” I tell him on a sigh.
I can hear him smile as he says, “I can tell.”
We get out of the shower. Dean brings my suitcase up while I dry myself and my hair, and I unlock it and pull out my nightclothes before getting into his giant bed.
He smirks when he sees me. “You look so small on my bed.”
“That’s because it’s fucking massive,” I say, burying my face in
the pillow. “I could sleep for a year.”
“Jet lag, babe,” he says. “You must be exhausted. Can I get you something to eat or drink? Fuck, I should have fed you before I fucked you, but I just had to have you. I missed you so much, and seeing you show up here…. You have no idea, Sabina.”
He sounds a little worried.
“I wanted you too, Dean. And yes, I’d love some water. I’m not hungry now, but I know I will be when I wake up from this coma of a nap I’m about to fall into.”
“Okay, I’ll get you some water. And whatever you want to eat, I’ll get it for you. My chef is here for dinner. I usually fend for myself for breakfast and lunch, but if you’re here I might tell him to stay all day.”
“I can cook us food, Dean,” I say, yawning. “And so can you. We don’t need a 24/7 chef.”
“You’re on holiday,” he says. “I don’t want you to have to lift a finger.”
“You cook and do everything when you visit me,” I point out. “No double standards. Besides, I like doing it, and what else am I going to do? It’s not like I’m working or anything, so don’t be ridiculous.”
“I’m going to be taking you here, there, and everywhere,” he says, frowning. I glance up at him and just take him in, standing here in nothing but a white towel, wrapped low on his hips. His hair is damp and messy, a few water droplets still on his chest and abs. If I wasn’t so tired, I’d lick them then trace his six-pack. But I am, so I’m just going to admire the view. His sleeve tattoo gives him an edge I like, and I really can’t describe a better body, even in my dreams. He’s something else.
And he’s all mine.
“We won’t have time to worry about doing all that shit,” he continues.
I yawn. “Babe, come cuddle. We can argue about this later, okay? After I’ve slept and I’m feeling fierier.”
He laughs at that and joins me in bed, throwing his towel on the floor. “I finally have you in my bed. You have no idea how long I’ve thought about this.”
I smile and rest my head on his chest.
It’s nice to be away from everything.
It’s just us here, in this big house.
No Kate dropping by. Nothing to really worry about, except apparently whether or not to have a chef on hand all day. Dean has made such an amazing life for himself, and now he wants to share it with me, which I appreciate. I just hope I don’t feel weird, like the thought of having someone cook all my meals makes me feel. I’m used to doing things for myself. I’m an independent woman. I don’t want him to take that away from me, but I know he wants to spoil me, and that’s a very nice thing. Where do I draw the line?
I don’t know.
“’Night, Dean,” I whisper.
“’Night, babe.”
I fall into a deep sleep within seconds.
Chapter Twenty Three
When I wake up feeling rested and it’s still night-time, I know I’ve already messed up my sleeping schedule. I force myself back to sleep, and the next time I wake up it’s to Dean playing his guitar and singing softly to a new song.
“Morning,” I say, getting out of bed and walking over to him.
“Morning,” he says, smiling and putting his guitar down. He pulls me onto his lap, smiling up at me. “Hungry?”
I nod. “You don’t have to stop playing though. What was that song?”
“You want to hear it?” he asks, kissing my forehead.
“Of course I do.”
I hop off his lap and sit next to him as he picks his guitar back up and starts to play.
This song.
My eyes widen as he sings the first verse, and I just know that this song is about me.
She’s always been my dream.
My secret sin.
I fought with myself, but now the war is over.
I fell in love with the impossible, I hope reality never sets in.
Because right now, in this moment, next to her, I win.
When he finishes, I clear my throat, feeling emotional.
“Dean--”
“The words have never flowed so easily,” he says, placing the instrument back down and kissing my lips. “They say missing someone is the best thing for a writer, but I think that nothing is better than being with you.”
I don’t know what to reply with to that, because nothing can beat those words, so I just kiss him, sinking my body into his.
When he pulls away, he smiles at me, and says, “Come on, let’s go eat.”
I don’t know how I’m meant to eat after that. I just want to listen to him play over and over again, soak up every moment of it.
We head downstairs and I take the time to look around his house. It really is beautiful. Whoever decorated it did an amazing job.
“I love it,” I tell him, staring at the pictures on the wall. “Your home is beautiful, Dean.”
“Glad you think so,” he says, studying me.
We walk hand in hand to the kitchen. As he starts to make breakfast, I wonder if he feels lonely in this big house all alone sometimes. Or maybe he’s hardly home, who knows? He does live a busy life. Maybe he’s usually not here alone. I cringe at that part. He said he’s never had anyone else on his bed though, so that’s probably not the case, and I’m just being a little paranoid. I know he won’t lie to me, I trust him. Still, he’s known for being quite the ladies’ man.
“How have you had no other woman in your bed?” I blurt out, unable to help myself. “You’re a good man, Dean. The best. But you’re no saint.”
He lifts his head to look at me, watching me silently for a few moments. “You want the truth?”
I swallow, then nod.
Yes, always the truth.
“I’ve dated a lot of women over the years, yes,” he admits, taking a deep breath. “I couldn’t have you, Sabina. And it killed me. I needed distractions, and I wanted to meet someone that I could love. Someone that could be mine.”
It kills me to hear those words from him, but I do understand.
“But you didn’t.”
Luckily for me, I suppose, but I didn’t want him to be unhappy these past few years.
“No, I didn’t,” he says, eyes softening. “Nothing and no one ever compared to you.”
“And no one in your bed?” I probe further. Something hits me then, “Wait, how new is the bed?”
He throws his head back and laughs, “It’s about a year old.”
I still.
A year?
“Hey, Dean?”
“Yes, Sabina,” he says, watching me.
“Do you believe in fate?” I ask, using the words he said to me on my wedding day.
He cups my face and rests his forehead against mine. “Yes, I do.”
“Me too,” I whisper, closing my eyes as he kisses me.
We both eat the omelette and toast and then Dean asks me what I want to do today.
“Have a lazy morning and then drive around and see LA?” I suggest.
“Do you want to go out for dinner or something?”
“Sounds good,” I say, smiling.
I don’t care what we do, as long as I’m with him.
He shows me the rest of the house, and outside where he has a beautiful pool and deck, and then I have a quick shower and get dressed.
Then I hop back into bed, making him laugh.
*****
The next night, Dean takes me to his performance. I wait backstage while he sings on a popular TV talk show, then does a little interview. When the host asks him if he’s dating someone, he says, “I am most definitely taken.”
Most definitely.
I smile as I hear those words, even as the crowd all says a collective awwww.
When he’s done, he comes straight to me and I’m back in his arms. “What did you think?”
“You were amazing,” I say, smiling at him proudly.
“It’s so different. It makes everything more exciting, knowing I have you here with me, Sabina. It’s like everything finally ma
kes sense, all the puzzle pieces fit now.”
I rest my head on his chest and close my eyes. “Those words should go in a song.”
He chuckles, then kisses the top of my head.
How am I meant to leave him again?
We head back to his house, where the chef cooks us a delicious dinner. I can see why he keeps him around, his food is amazing.
While Dean’s life is so different to mine, he’s still the same in any environment, and I like that. Even though this isn’t my lifestyle, I still feel comfortable because he makes me that way. I don’t think it matters what situation I’m in, as long as it’s with him.
He is where I’m meant to be.
Dean is my home.
Who said home had to be a place?
*****
A few days later, I’ve decided that I love everything about LA. After seeing sights, exploring the city, and eating out at all the different spots, I never want to leave. I read a book on the couch while Dean works on his music; he’s writing down lyrics and playing his guitar, a new song in the making. I can’t help but watch, mesmerized by the process.
He lifts his head and grins when he catches me watching. “Pretending to read?”
“I like watching you when you’re in your element,” I say, shrugging unapologetically.
He smiles softly then returns to playing.
I’m about to read the next sentence when he says, “You should just stay here, Sabina.”
My head snaps to him. “What?”
“There’s nothing holding you back, you should just move in with me here. I’ll fly Tara here to visit you whenever you want. You’ll be so happy here.”
He wants me to move in with him?
Wouldn’t that be the ultimate gamble? I’d be putting all my trust, hopes, and dreams into something that is so new. I’ve done that before, and look how that turned out. But Dean is not his cousin.
“Dean—”
“Don’t think about what you should do, just think about what you want, Sabina. If you don’t want to work you don’t have to, if you want to, and knowing you, you will, we can find you a new job doing whatever you want to. It’s only hard if we make it. I want you here. I don’t think I’ve ever been happier in my life than right now. And fuck, I don’t want you to leave. I want to come home to you every day, and wake up to you every morning.”
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