by P. Dangelico
I looked up into his solemn face. Sweet, impossible man. Everyone defines love in his or her own way. Through trial and error, pain and pleasure, together we’d decided that our love was going to be defined as unconditional, beyond measure…no matter what.
“I love you, my psychotic control freak.”
“I love you more,” he mouthed quietly.
Tired beyond anything, all I wanted to do was go home, crawl into bed, and let him hold me. Unfortunately, I had a nagging suspicion that we would be spending hours getting debriefed by Interpol.
Ben walked up and inspected my person, his head shaking. “She needs to get checked out at a hospital.” He directed this at Sebastian as if I wasn’t standing between them.
“I’m fine,” I cut in.
“And you’re needed at headquarters,” Ben continued.
“The fuck, I am.” Before the words were out of his mouth, he was already pulling me away, out of the musty, cold house.
“Where are you going?” Ben shouted in exasperation.
“Home. So I can make sweet, sweet love to my wife.”
“Wishful thinking. We’re at least sixteen hours away by car,” I reminded him. At this, he smirked.
“Don’t ever underestimate me, lover.”
No…I would have to be a total idiot to ever underestimate this man. The look on his face told me not to bother arguing.
Outside, the sunlight was blinding. My eyes narrowed into two slits. I trudged through the mud slowly while Mr. Six Foot Three pulled me along. He finally gave up. Hooking his arm under my legs, he carried me the rest of the way, overriding my very vocal objection.
The rhythmic beating of helicopter blades gained my attention. It was sitting in an open field, next to the house.
“But what about––” I stuttered. He held the door open and pushed me into the back of the helicopter while Bear, sitting in the pilot seat, looked over his shoulder wearing a big fat smile on his face.
“Uh uh, nothin’ and I mean nothin’ is going to stop me from getting you home and gettin’ inside you,” he drawled in my ear, his accent as thick and sweet as honey. “First, a quick pit stop to see Yannick and get you checked out.”
I stared into the eyes of my best friend, my lover, my partner in crime––my lighthouse in this crazy storm that was my life. I crawled onto his lap, wrapped my arms around his neck, and raked my fingers through his hair. “I know what we could make,” I murmured provocatively.
His lips hooked up on one side and his head tilted, his eyes burning with mischief. “What’s that, darlin’?” he said, brushing my dirty, matted hair back and tucking it behind my ear.
“A baby.”
I should’ve known better than to pose it as a challenge.
Epilogue
Sebastian
“Babe? Baaaabe!”
“Mon Dieu, stop shouting.”
“Hey Marianne. Have you––”
“Out back.”
“Where?” I say while I walk across the foyer and reach her.
“In her favorite place––but I’m warning you,” she says with a strange twinkle in her eye.
I stop. I can feel the frown forming on my face. “Is everything okay?” Worry rears its ugly head. It’s gotten better the last couple of years, thanks to my wife––she seems to know exactly what I need before I know I need it––but it’ll always be a part of me.
“She’s fine,” Marianne assures me. Her voice fades away as I walk as quickly as I can on one fucked up knee down the hall. These walls don’t haunt me anymore, the ghosts of my past evicted by the love that lives here now. This is our house.
I rush out the French doors and cross the wide slate patio. The sun, shining brightly, reminds me what an amazing life I’m living.
I know how lucky I am. Not a day goes by that I don’t look at the people I love and thank the good Lord for giving me this gift. If I wasn’t a religious man before, I sure as fuck am now.
Things with Diana are still touchy. Vera has a better relationship with her than I do. I can’t seem to forget. Just not as forgiving as my beautiful wife, I guess.
I roll up my shirtsleeves and loosen my tie. Walking past the conservatory, I cut across the meadow––our meadow. I’ve made love to my wife here more times than I can count. I can’t even smell the scent of fresh cut grass anymore without getting hard. It puts a smile on my face every time I think about it. Sure as fuck, I’m getting hard.
Christ. I adjust myself in my pants and keep walking until I reach the wisteria tree she loves so much. She says it reminds her of us, of how it all began.
As I get closer, I realize she’s asleep on one of the lounge chairs. Her arm hangs over the armrest, a book on the ground below it.
I stop, not wanting to wake her yet, and just watch. I’ll never get tired of this. Fuck, it’s the most beautiful sight in the world. I’m no poet, or songwriter. Pretty words and melodies won’t ever come out of this mouth. But I know what I feel, and I know how lucky I am to have it. I’ve led a life that most men only dream of, and I’d trade it all to spend only a second with this woman. Where she is concerned, I have no pride, no vanity. There are no rules, or laws I won’t break to keep her safe and happy. She’s everything. It begins and ends with her.
Her eyes blink open and her head turns my way. That beautiful mouth curves into a smile just for me. “Get over here, you handsome peeping Tom.”
She doesn’t have to ask twice. I walk up and bend down to kiss her gently. Then I kiss my son’s forehead. His plump lips gape open as he sleeps pressed up against his mother’s breast, his hands fisted on his chest. Lucky little Dude. Make sure you enjoy every minute of it, buddy.
“What I wouldn’t do to be in his place right now,” I murmur, careful not to wake him.
“You can be,” she tells me and wiggles her eyebrows. “Later tonight.”
“Promise?” Shit, I’m hard already with the way she’s looking at me. I pet my son’s silky, dark hair with my index finger. His baby mohawk is irresistible.
“You have this strange obsession with his hair,” she whisper giggles.
“It’s the coolest thing ever.”
“Don’t you dare wake him,” she says more seriously. “I’m going to have to go back to work just to get some peace and quiet.”
“Quiet is overrated. Speaking of your work, I just saw Yannick. He hired another doctor, and the new MRI machine was delivered today.”
Yes, my wife built another clinic with Yannick. Yes, it still makes me uncomfortable even though he’s become a close friend.
“Really?” she says, a little too brightly. And now I’m annoyed. She reads my mind perfectly, grabs the back of my head and pulls me down for another kiss.
“Dadyyyyyyyyyyyyy!”
We break apart and my wife rolls her eyes. “Here comes the tyrant. It’s scary how alike you two are,” says my wife in a not too complimentary tone. I chuckle at the resignation on her face. We both know what’s coming.
“Should I be offended?”
“She never asks,” my wife barrels on, one dark eyebrow raised. “She just makes demands and expects everyone to fall in line. Does that sound like anybody we know?”
“Daaaaaaaaaaaad!”
I look over my shoulder to find my daughter running ahead of Olivier, all skinny arms and long legs. She launches herself into my open arms and wraps her arms tightly around my neck, her wet bathing suit soaking my shirt and pants…the little brute. Startled awake, my son starts to cry while my wife shakes her head.
I push the wet tangle of long blonde hair off my daughter’s face while she chatters on about how many laps she swam, and how she wants me to time her while my son screams at the top of his lungs, which at the moment seem to be much larger than his small body. My wife’s warm, brown eyes meet mine. There are no words, just a profound understanding of what a gift we’ve been given. “Is this what you wanted?” she asks, her question barely comprehensible over the sound of our chi
ldren.
“This is everything,” I say as I stare at the woman who brought me back to life, who erased the quiet with laughter, and filled the emptiness with love.
“You better amend that edict,” she mutters cryptically.
Panic sets in. So does a weight pressing down on my chest. “What? Why?”
“Because I’m pregnant again, that’s why.”
“Holy shit.” The panic vanishes only to be replaced with a hot lump of fuck knows what that gets stuck in my throat. I take two deep breaths. But damn, I gotta get a handle on this shit.
“Daddy,” my daughter scolds. “You said another swear word.”
“I’m sorry, Love. How much do I owe the swear jar now?”
“A lot––like a lot a lot.” My daughter’s face is very serious. I try like hell not to smile. “It’s okay, Daddy. If you don’t have any more, Mommy can help you,” she tells me while she pats my cheeks, not very gently by the way. One glance at my wife and I know she’s desperately trying to look serious and failing. And then I start laughing, and she laughs right along with me.
Afterword
I sincerely hoped you enjoyed reading Sebastian and Vera’s story as much as I loved writing it.
If you would kindly take the time to write a short review, I would really appreciate it!
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Thanks Again!
P.
Stay tuned for…
Ben and Charlotte’s story.
About the Author
P. Dangelico loves romance in all forms, shapes, and sizes, cuddly creatures (four legged and two), brick oven pizza, the NY Jets (although she may rethink that after this season), and to while away the day at the barn.
What she’s not enamored with is referring to herself in the third person and social media. But in an attempt to get up to speed with the rest of the civilized world, you can now reach her at…
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p.dangelico
www.pdangelico.com
