Fall In Love Again (Serendipitous Love Book 3)

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Fall In Love Again (Serendipitous Love Book 3) Page 18

by Christina C Jones


  We listened and laughed along as she weaved a very entertaining tale of seducing some maybe Italian/maybe Spanish man, then making a “narrow” escape down a mountain in the middle of a blizzard after he’d declared his love. Afterwards, she stood up, took a bow, declared the story entirely fictional, then took another bow.

  We sang happy birthday, had cake, and when Lorenzo walked in to bring Charlie a gift, Melissa — as expected — disappeared. In the excitement of opening gifts, Carter slipped out with Viv, tipping up his head at me as they left. I mouthed “good luck” to him, then turned back to Charlie just as she was slamming the top back on a box from her Aunt Morgan.

  “What’s up?” I asked, confused by the flush of red crossing her skin.

  She lifted an eyebrow at me, then raised the corner of the box, showing me the contents — a big pile of sex toys.

  “That’s from both of us, my love,” her Aunt Morgan said from across the table, pointing between herself and Melissa’s empty seat with a smile. “You kids have lots and lots of fun, okay?”

  I grinned. “Oh, we certainly will.”

  Charlie smacked me on the leg, and I chuckled as she went through the rest of the pile. To open in front of everyone, I gave her a few ingredient books she’d been wanting, along with a good camera she could use to take pictures and film video for the site. Later, when the party was over, and we were back home, showered, and relaxing in bed, I put a flat square box into her hands.

  “What is this?” she asked, smiling as I sat up beside her.

  “Just open it.”

  She raised an eyebrow, chewing at her lip as she lifted the top off the box, then pulled out a set of keys. Her fingers went immediately to the key ring, custom made into the new Pot Liquor logo she’d worked on with Astrid.

  “Nix… are you gonna explain?”

  I grinned, then turned her to face me. “You know a couple of weeks ago, when we talked about how long it was gonna take to get the restaurant open, and there was some concern about income during that time, right?”

  She nodded. “Right.”

  “Well…”— I gestured toward the keys— “Problem solved. You are holding the keys to Pot Liquor’s new food truck.”

  I got a little tense for a moment, wondering how she would react. She could get really pissed that I’d moved forward on something like that without her, but I hoped her eyes would light up with happiness, well up with tears... something like that.

  Hopefully.

  Charlie threw her arms around my neck in a tight hug, then pulled back to plant a kiss on my lips. “Nixon, are you serious? A food truck? That is… so friggin’ cool! ”

  Yes!

  “When did… when have you had time for this?” she asked, grinning down at the keys in her hand as she sat back.

  Shaking my head, I placed my hand over hers. “Well, it’s not ready to operate yet. All we have is the truck right now, but it’s ours. Astrid is working on the signage and stuff for us, and everybody has agreed to advertise, put out flyers, tell their customers, all of that.”

  “So everybody knew about this? Everybody is helping?”

  I chuckled a little, reaching up to wipe away a stray tear that escaped the corner of her eye. “Yeah. We’re family, right? You would do the same thing, wouldn’t you?’

  She nodded, then sniffled, trying not to break into full on tears. “And the website… all of that… that helps drive interest, and now we’ll actually have a place to send people.”

  “Exactly, baby. We’ll adjust the menu, start offering breakfast. I’ve already applied for permits for a good spot to reach the corporate people for breakfast, lunch, and dinner… it’ll take a couple of months to be ready, but we’ll be back in business, baby. Then we won’t have to worry about rushing to get the restaurant ready. We can make it even better.”

  Charlie smiled, then reached to pull me into another embrace. “Nix… I am so happy… and all of this sounds really good, but… I know the insurance hasn’t released any money yet. How is this getting paid for? I haven’t seen any money come out of the restaurant accounts for something like this.”

  “That’s cause I didn’t use restaurant money.”

  She narrowed her eyes for a moment, then a moment later they widened with understanding. “No. No. You used your personal savings for this?”

  “Charlie, listen to me. It’s okay.”

  Shaking her head, she opened her mouth to give a rebuttal, but I covered it with my hand.

  “Stop. It’s fine. I invested that money in the food truck because I believe in us. If something goes bad, yeah, I’ll take it back from the restaurant, but until then, we’re good. I promise you, okay. I told you I would figure it out, right?”

  She nodded. “I knew you would, it’s just… I don’t understand how you’ve always managed to make sure things were taken care of.”

  I shrugged. “Because I always wanna see you happy. Make you smile. Not having to fire our employees because we couldn’t pay them makes both of us smile. Makes everybody happy.”

  Charlie smiled, then leaned in to kiss me again. “I love you so much.”

  “I love you too honeybun,” I said, drawing her into my arms. “Happy birthday.”

  eighteen.

  charlie.

  I kinda wanted to throw up.

  I was tired. Like, real ass tired. Friggin’ exhausted, after staying up late and waking up early this entire week, trying to put together a good-sized database of recipes for the site, including step-by-step pictures.

  Exhausted.

  And disgusted by the thought of looking at, smelling, tasting, touching, or cooking any more food. I’d done enough taste-testing in the past week to last a lifetime — or at least until it was time to start developing the menu for the food truck.

  The food truck.

  Just the thought of that lifted my spirits. It was the perfect way to expand our business, and bring in some income while the restaurant was rebuilt, and an idea I wouldn’t have even thought of. But my man did.

  I sighed, then stood up from the computer.

  My man.

  Why the hell did it feel so easy and natural to refer to Nixon as my man when it had barely even been a month? Maybe… because deep down, I’d always considered him mine. I mean, you don’t love someone the way I loved him for six years and then just… forget. And honestly, it was more like eleven years. I was kidding myself if I thought those five years of harsh words and snarky comebacks were anything other than an attempt to deflect. As soon as I was back in close proximity with him, my ability to be cold — and honestly mean — to him had evaporated.

  Voodoo dick, girl. You couldn’t help it.

  Damned right I couldn’t. There was actually a hitch in my step now, accommodating the pleasant soreness between my legs from the night before, when a sleepy-sex quickie turned into an all-night thing, with us passing out asleep between sessions, then waking up every few hours to try a different position. It was very “new relationship” of us, but like he’d said before… we had a lot to catch up on.

  I clutched my hand to my mouth, trying to hold back a dry heave as I stepped into the bathroom. The pistachio cream scent of my body wash still filled the room from my shower a while before. Then, the aroma had been fine, but now… gag.

  Thinking back, if I didn’t know better, I would think I was pregnant.

  Wait… did I know better?

  I pulled my phone from the pocket of my shorts, then logged into my app to check the exact date of my last period.

  Almost five weeks ago.

  Which was really nothing to panic about.

  Nothing to panic about.

  Nothing to panic about.

  So… I panicked.

  I dropped to my knees in front of the bathroom counter, flinging the door open and digging frantically through the contents. In my head, I cursed myself for throwing away all of those pregnancy tests that last day in Cali. I really could have used one right now, but if I
were a lucky girl, Viv would have one… somewhere.

  Please Viv, have one somewhere.

  Just when I was about to give up, I spotted a familiar white foil wrapper, with pink and black lettering. Hell yes, I thought, reaching all the way to the back of the cabinet for the stray test, which must have fallen out of a box of several.

  My hands shook as I tore it open, then shoved my shorts away from my hips and sat down on the toilet. A minute later, I was washing my hands while the test rested on the counter, waiting for those two minutes to pass.

  It was kinda like deja-vu. This scene was a repeat of three months ago, when I was taking that test before I got on my flight, praying that it gave me a reading of negative. Only this time… I wasn’t quite sure what I wanted that test to say.

  Wait.

  That’s a lie.

  I wanted it to be positive.

  Was that even okay, to want that?

  Again… Nixon and I had only been back together a month. We had a lot of history, sure, but we didn’t even really know if we were gonna work out. We were still stuck in kind of a… second honeymoon phase. What if once the newness wore off, we discovered that breaking up wasn’t the mistake… getting back together was?

  In any case, we hadn’t exactly been preventing pregnancy. We’d been having sex like it was going out of style, without a thought of contraception. And I was a pretty firm believer that if you weren’t trying not to get pregnant… you were trying to get pregnant. Nixon hadn’t once mentioned birth control, never pulled out a condom to use with me… so it that what happened? We were trying to have a baby?

  The timer on my phone went off, indicating that the requisite two minutes had gone by. I took a deep breath, but couldn’t make myself look at the test.

  What if I was pregnant, and I lost it again? What if it was already gone? I drank quite a bit at my birthday party a couple of weeks ago… if I was pregnant now, it meant I was pregnant then and alcohol is one of the biggest no-no’s. What if I hadn’t even given the baby a damned chance?

  The phone chimed again, because I didn’t respond the first time. I turned the alarm off, took another deep breath, then picked up the test and held it in front of my eyes.

  Two pink lines.

  I gasped, and tears immediately sprang to my eyes. I covered my mouth with my hand, and just kept staring at the test… hoping it wasn’t gonna change in front of my eyes.

  Positive.

  Meaning pregnant.

  By Nixon.

  Holy shit.

  I lifted my gaze to the mirror, not realizing until I was looking at myself that I was smiling. I couldn’t stop smiling. Or glowing. I was… damn, I was already glowing. Or maybe it was just because I was so damned happy.

  Yeah.

  Happy.

  I almost tripped over my own feet getting into the bedroom to change clothes. I pulled on a pair of jeans, a light sweater, and shoved my feet into flats. I had to tell Nix we were having a baby, and a phone call wouldn’t do.

  His reaction was something I didn’t second-guess for a moment.

  I pushed the laptop closed as I passed by, grabbed my keys, checked my back pocket for my phone, flipped off the lights, and opened the door.

  I expected to step into the hall, closing and locking the door behind me, but there, standing in front of my door with a huge bouquet of roses was someone I’d hoped I was done with. His hand was raised to knock, and he was dressed as impeccably as ever. When he caught my gaze, his handsome face spread into a smile.

  “Charlie… that gorgeous face of yours is a sight for sore eyes. I have missed the hell out of you girl.”

  Heart racing, I managed to pull my lips into a tight smile, because I could not say the same.

  “Hello Adrian.”

  — & —

  Really, really awkward.

  If there’s ever a question about how it feels to invite the man who is legally your husband into the home you’re currently sharing with your ex-boo who became your next boo once it didn’t work out with the first guy you dated after aforementioned husband went to jail…

  Friggin’ awkward.

  That’s the answer.

  Since that crazy weekend which seemed so long ago now, where I’d slept with Nixon, fought with Nixon, then gotten dumped by Trent, I’d been ignoring Adrian’s calls. After about a week, they stopped. Anything he needed to say to me could go through my lawyer, and she hadn’t called.

  It seemed crazy now, but really… it had been very, very easy to simply pretend he didn’t exist. Just a little blip from the past, which I stored away, along with thoughts of the money and bank accounts I’d lost because of him. With so much going on, between the fire, and getting back with Nixon, and starting the food truck and the website, I realized I hadn’t even been pretending. I just didn’t have room in my mind — or my life — for Adrian and his nonsense.

  Adrian sat down on the couch, and I sat across from him in one of the armchairs, warily eying the bouquet of roses he brought.

  I hated roses.

  But Adrian wouldn’t know that. Because really, he didn’t know me. Three, almost four years married, and the man didn’t even know what flowers I liked.

  “So,” I said, breaking the uncomfortable silence. “What… are you doing here?”

  Adrian smiled, tipping his head to the side. “What do you mean, what am I doing here? I came to see my wife.”

  “You know what I mean. How did you get out of prison, and why didn’t you call first? I could have saved you the trouble of coming by.”

  He sat forward, propping his elbows on his knees. “Well, I’ve said from the beginning that I was innocent, I just needed to be able to prove that. Brandon — you know him, Brandon Jensen, the consulting firm we moved to Cali for? — he had a hookup with a guy he knew back in New Orleans. A guy that can get into anybody’s computer system, anywhere.”

  “So, a hacker. Is that how you know where I live?”

  Adrian nodded. “Yeah, a hacker. And no, my lawyer figured out your address for me. But anyway, the hacker thing… it could have backfired… if it didn’t turn out so awesomely well. He was able to find the money trails, emails, everything, proving that I was not, have not ever been, and do not ever plan to be, intentionally involved with any kind of securities fraud. One of the higher-ups from a company that tried to get me to come and work for them set me up! But… ol’ boy packaged it up in a neat little file, sent a copy to everybody who needed to see it, and I am free, baby!”

  He clapped his hands, and my face spread into a full-on smile. When he stood up, and pulled me up with him, I accepted it, allowing him to pull me into an embrace. But then, he drew back, aiming his lips toward mine, and I put a hand between us and wiggled out of his arms.

  Adrian lifted an eyebrow, running his tongue over his lips as he slipped his hands into his pockets. “Seriously, Charlie? Even now, after you see me here in front of you, I’m telling you I’m innocent, and have proof, and still you act like this with me? What is the problem?”

  “Adrian… I’ve tried to talk to you about this, while you were still in prison. I am genuinely happy for you. I’m glad you’ve been vindicated. I was hoping, even when it didn’t seem like it made sense, that you really hadn’t done the things they said. And it looks like that’s the case. I think that’s excellent. But…”

  He shook his head as he scoffed. “Ah, the infamous but. What is it?”

  “This marriage, Adrian. It past the expiration date a long time ago, and we both know that. We didn’t get married for love, we got married because it was convenient… but I’m ready for love now.”

  “Okay, so let’s work on that. We can build. I know you stopped answering my calls because of the stress of the case against me, but that’s over now. We can focus on us.”

  Pushing out a heavy sigh, I crossed my arms over my chest. “I didn’t stop answering your calls because of the case, Adrian. I stopped answering because I wanted you to leave me alone. I w
anted you to stop holding up the divorce, and let me move on. I don’t understand why you can’t do that.”

  “Because I love you.”

  “No, you don’t.” I shook my head. “You don’t know enough about me to love me. You may love having a wife, but you don’t love me. If you did, this isn’t something that would be suddenly popping up, now that I want a divorce. Not when you’ve made no effort to know me beyond a friend with benefits. Not when you were cashing in additional benefits somewhere else as well.”

  His mouth dropped open in a hint of shock, and he stuttered over his next words. “Now, Charlie. We talked about me having a little more freedom, since we weren’t… cashing in benefits very often this last year. I wanted that, you wanted a baby.”

  “You are absolutely right. Now tell me, what married couple who loves each other, sees the other person as their soul mate, their forever partner, the other half of their life, agrees to something like that? I mean… I’m sure there are couples who do, and good for them, I don’t mean to bash their lifestyle, but… that’s not what I want for me, Adrian. We had an agreement. Dissolving the marriage if either of us wanted out was a part of it. I knew you to be a man of your word… so I need you to honor that.”

  Adrian looked at me for a long moment, then plopped down on the couch, resting his head in his hands. When he looked up at me again, his eyes were glossy, and that snatched the indignation right out of my chest.

  “Charlie… come on, baby. I was accused, and almost convicted of a crime I had nothing to do with. I lost my job, lost my house, lost my money… you’re the only thing I have left.”

  I shook my head, then sat down beside him on the couch. “That’s not true, Adrian. You said Brandon helped you out, so he must have believed in you. You may have to do some major first aid to your reputation, but I’m sure he would probably hire you back, now that you’ve been exonerated. And you can buy another house, with the money that I’m sure they’ve reimbursed, now that your innocence is proven. Right?”

 

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