by Paula Cox
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, damnit, I’m sure.”
He grinned at me and stepped inside, shutting the door behind him. “Thank you.” He took my head into his hands and held me gently as he lowered his lips to mine. The kiss had no heat, just a tender brush of his lips to mine, but damned if it didn’t feel nice. As soon as he kissed me, he let me go.
I stepped back and stared into his eyes. “You’re not staying the night,” I said firmly, as much to convince myself as to tell him.
“I didn’t think I was.”
“Then why did you kiss me?”
“Can’t I kiss the mother of my child?”
“No.”
He held his hands up in surrender. “Sorry. I was just saying thank you.”
“Is that how you thank all the women that do something nice for you?”
He gave me that mischievous smile again. “No. Just the woman that is the mother of my child.”
“I have to go change,” I announced as I turned away, just to get away from his presence. I could feel the pull of him again and I didn’t like it. Well, actually, I did like it, but I didn’t want to give in to it.
While I cleaned my face and slipped into my sweats, dressing down as much as possible, I heard him go into the garage, then return. When I stepped out of my room, he was under the kitchen table with my adjustable wrench. That wrench, along with straight and Phillips screwdrivers, and a hammer were the sum total of my tools.
“What are you doing?”
“I noticed this morning the table was a little wobbly. I thought I would tighten the legs while I waited on the cab. It’s just a nut that needs tightening,” he said from under the table.
“Would you stop it?” I cried as my fists clenched.
“Stop what?” he asked as he looked up at me from the floor.
“I know what you are doing, and it’s not going to work!”
He looked genuinely puzzled. “What are you talking about?”
“You! Being so nice and helping! I’m not changing my mind, Cain. So forget it!”
He kicked his feet, slid around to a new position, and reached up with the wrench again. “I’m just tightening your table legs. It’s a two-minute job. I’m not expecting anything for it. What’s wrong with you?”
I stood and watched him as he twisted around again and tightened another leg before he slid out from under the table and pushed the chairs back into place. He walked past me and into the garage without saying a word, returning empty-handed a moment later.
“Thank you,” I muttered.
“No problem,” he replied gruffly. “Do you always have a problem with having someone help you? Or is it just me?”
“No! I don’t know! It’s just you. You make me crazy!”
“Me?” he said indignantly. “What have I done?”
“Being nice to me! Opening the car door! Driving me home! Fixing my table! Making me apples! Why are you being so nice?”
“What?”
I looked at his face and I could tell he didn’t know what I was talking about. “Why are you being so nice to me? Why won’t you just go away?”
His face crumbled and he smiled sadly. “Is that what you want?”
“Yes!”
“It’s not what I want.” He continued to look at me and then took my face into his hands again. He paused a moment, as if to give me a chance to protest, then kissed me softly. I wanted to pull back, but I wanted to return the kiss, as well. So I did neither. He broke the kiss and looked into my eyes, still holding me gently by my jaw. He lowered his lips to mine again, and this time I met him halfway, returning the kiss.
“I just want what’s best for you and the baby, Alex. That’s all I want. Why won’t you let me help?”
“I can’t, Cain. I can’t trust you.”
“You can,” he whispered as he brought his lips to mine again. “Trust me, Alex. I won’t hurt you. I’ll clean up my act. I’ll be here for you. You’ll see.” He kissed me again, more firmly this time, and I felt my body respond.
“But what about the club?” I gasped as our lips parted again.
“They’re my family. They would never hurt me, or anyone that I care about.” His lips danced along my neck. “Trust us, Alex. I won’t hurt you. The Hounds, they won’t hurt you. Let us help you.”
I pushed him back and he stopped his maddening kissing. I looked into his eyes, trying to read the intent. I couldn’t read him, but I wanted him… badly. “This is such a bad idea,” I whispered as I pulled him into a kiss.
I expected him to fuck me like he had the night in his hotel room, but he didn’t. We slowly undressed each other, kissing and touching, and he was making me squirm with his soft kisses and licks when I heard the car horn of the waiting cab.
“Your ride is here,” I panted, pulling his mouth harder into my breast.
“They can wait,” he murmured as he returned to my lips. His kiss was electric as he moved between my legs. He probed me, searching for my opening, then finding it.
“Wait!” I cried.
“I’m clean, Alex. I’m safe and clean. Trust me,” he whispered as he thrusted slowly.
I couldn’t get any more pregnant, and god did he feel good without the condom on. The car horn sounded again, but I no longer cared. I hadn’t had sex without the man wearing a condom in years, and I rejoiced in the feeling of skin on skin.
He took my lips, kissing me with purpose, and I could feel my toes curl as he drove into me harder, faster, my skin tingling as he wrapped me up, his arms around mine and holding my head gently in his hands. I crossed my ankles behind his back and held him by his shoulders, pulling him down to me as my orgasm began to rise within me.
He pulled back, pushing up through my embrace. I held tight but he was too strong, rising only enough to look into my eyes, his face intense, yet soft.
“I’m going to come,” I whispered.
“Come for me,” he replied just as softly, his eyes never leaving mine.
My orgasm flowed over me, wrapping me in its warm embrace. I clung to him, waiting for the rushing pleasure to subside, holding my breath as I swam in warmth and satisfaction. I exhaled as my climax washed out of me, and his lips were waiting. His kiss was soft, loving even, but as we parted, it was his eyes that held me. Never had a man looked at me the way Cain looked at me then.
I watched, mesmerized by his face. As I watched, his face twisted and he grunted once, his gasp almost inaudible, and I felt him flow into me. His faced relaxed and he, once again, had that look, the look I had seen on Rand and Christy’s face as they looked at Gunner.
His lips took mine as he settled softly onto me. “I will never hurt you, Alex,” he said softly as he kissed me gently. “You can trust me. Let me help you.”
I wanted to. Oh, how I wanted to… but I just couldn’t. “I can’t,” I whispered, and I felt like I was going to cry.
“You can,” he said, his lips hovering millimeters above mine. “Let me prove it to you.”
“You need to go,” I gasped out. “This was a mistake. I shouldn’t have let you stay.”
“Please, Alex. Let me stay.”
“I can’t, Cain… I can’t.”
“I won’t hurt you, I promise.”
“It’s not me that I’m worried about,” I murmured as I felt a tear trickle down the side of my face.
He kissed me once, very gently, on the lips then rose from me. He began to dress, refusing to look at me. I felt like shit, but I couldn’t allow him to stay. I couldn’t allow him into my life.
I rolled over and dressed, pulling my sweats on. “I’m sorry.”
“Yeah. Me, too,” he said quietly. He looked at me and I could see the hurt in his eyes. When he shrugged into his Hounds vest, he pulled the phone and dialed.
“This is Cain Rodgers. I ordered the cab for 1622 Tonti Street. Yes, I know. I got busy and couldn’t meet the driver. I know, but I will pay double. Yes, okay, thanks.”
We sat
in uncomfortable silence until the cab arrived. I walked him to the door. “I’m sorry, Cain.”
He looked at me like he was going to say something, but then just turned and walked out of the door. When he reached the cab, he paused, as if waiting for me to call to him back. I didn’t, and he opened the door and sat down. As the car backed out of my drive, I closed my front door and locked it.
I went back to bed and I could smell him on the sheets. I lay there, sick at my stomach, not from morning sickness, but from dread, wondering what I was doing, wondering if I was making the right choice, the tears slowly rolling down my cheeks until I slipped into sleep.
Chapter 8
I pulled my purse and the baggy with the peanut butter sandwich from the passenger seat and stepped out of the car. Dinner would be waiting on me, but over the last several days I had learned that strong spicy smells and foods could sometimes upset my stomach. I had been eating a lot of pasta, fruit and, my old standby, peanut butter sandwiches.
I slid the baggy into my purse so Granny wouldn’t see it. I would only pull it out if I had to because I was looking forward to some of her low country gumbo and I had eaten a peanut butter covered apple before I left home to try to head off any queasiness. I would go heavy on the rice and light on the gumbo, season it with a prayer, and hope I could get through the meal without embarrassing myself.
Granny was waiting in the living room as I entered and I gave her my hug and kiss, repeating the process with Grandpa before following her into the kitchen. I took a deep breath and was relieved that the wonderful smells of Granny’s kitchen didn’t bother me.
We talked about this and that in low voices. I told her about the morning sickness but she had no advice other than stick with what I was doing. She hadn’t suffered with morning sickness, and my mother hadn’t either, though she said Mom had tended to binge on various foods when a craving would hit, and that would make her puke. She told me a funny story of my mom eating corn on the cob during one of her cravings and had me in tears of laughter as I imagined the mess she must have made.
When we sat down to eat I followed my plan, dipping out a lot of rice but only a little of the gumbo. Grandpa looked at me kind of funny but said nothing and I kept my head down to avoid making eye contact. But it was all for nothing. When I bit into my first shrimp I felt my stomach roll over and I knew what that meant.
“I can’t,” I said softly as I pushed the bowl away.
“It’s okay, Alexandria,” Granny said softly. “Do you want me to make you a sandwich?”
“No,” I said miserably. “I brought one.”
“Are you okay?” Grandpa asked looking at my bowl. “You’re not sick are you?”
“A little,” I said as I stared at the table.
“Go get your sandwich,” Granny said.
I rose from the table and returned with my slightly squished sandwich. “I’m sorry,” I whispered as I pulled the sandwich out of the bag and laid it on my napkin.
“Oh, poo,” Granny said with a wave of her hand. “Nothing to be sorry for.”
I took a bite of the sandwich and felt my stomach settle almost immediately, even before I swallowed, and I wondered how much of my upset stomach was all in my head.
Grandpa might be old school, but he wasn’t stupid, and he looked back and forth between me and Granny. “What’s going on here?”
I couldn’t meet his eyes. “It’s time, Alexandria,” Granny said softly.
“Time for what?” Grandpa asked, looking at me. I could feel his eyes even though I couldn’t look up and meet them.
“I’m pregnant,” I mumbled, holding to the sandwich, unable to do anything else in my misery.
“Pregnant? Are you sure? When were you going to tell me?”
“I’m sorry,” I whimpered as the tears began to fall. “I was afraid of what you might think. I didn’t mean for this to happen. It was an accident.”
“Accident my ass. You don’t get pregnant on accident.”
“Esten, that’s enough,” Granny said firmly as I wept.
“I’m sorry, Grandpa! I really am! Please, don’t hate me!”
I heard his spoon clank as he tossed it into his bowl, and I looked at him, afraid to see his face, but I had to know. He looked at me a moment, his face hard, and then he stood. I thought he was going to walk out of the room, but he pulled me to my feet and hugged me. As my arms went around him, the waterworks really started. I clung to him, my relief so great I couldn’t stop my tears.
“Shhh, child. I can’t hate you. I could never do that,” he said softly as I blubbered into his shoulder.
“I’m sorry, Grandpa! I don’t know how it happened. I was so careful!”
“Shhh…” he whispered as he rocked me in his arms. He held me until I cried myself out and then wiped my eyes with a finger. “Nothing for it now. Seems like this runs in the family.” I heard what he said but I didn’t understand what he meant. “Sit down. Finish your dinner. Then we’ll talk,” he said as he released me.
I ate the remainder of my sandwich in silence, staring at my bowl. I was so ashamed that I couldn’t even meet his eyes. He may not hate me, but I knew he was disappointed in me. They had done everything for me, from the time I was a little girl, raising me as another daughter and sending me to school after their own daughter had grown up and was gone. And I had let them down. They had cautioned me to be careful, to not get myself into a situation that I would later regret, and, despite my best efforts, I had.
When the meal was over, I began to help Granny clear the table as Grandpa returned to his chair.
“I’ve got this. Go talk to your grandpa. And don’t worry. Remember, no matter what, Alexandria, we will always love you,” Granny said.
I started to cry again as I held one of the two most important people in my life tight. There was so much I wanted to say, so much I wanted to tell her, but I couldn’t find the words. “Thank you. I love you so much,” I finally gasped out.
“And I love you, too. Now scoot.”
I walked into the living room and sat down in Granny’s chair beside Grandpa. I leaned forward and rested my elbows on my knees, staring at my shoes.
Grandpa turned off the television and looked at me a moment. “I’m not going to lecture you, Scooter,” he said and I smiled in spite of myself. He hadn’t called me Scooter in ten years or more. “Do you know who the dad is?”
I felt my temper flair at the question but tamped it down. I was the one in the wrong here. “Yes. His name is Cain Rodgers.”
“Known him long?”
I didn’t want to answer that one. “No,” I whispered.
“Does he know?”
“Yes.”
“Good. He has a right to know.”
“I know.”
“What’s he going to do?”
“What do you mean?”
“What’s he going to do to help you?”
“Nothing.”
“Nothing?”
“Well, he offered to help me, but I don’t want his help, Grandpa.”
“Why?”
“Because, he’s trouble. I should have never gotten involved with him.”
“What kind of trouble?”
“I don’t know. I just know I don’t want his help. I don’t want him around me or the baby.” Grandpa said nothing until I looked up from the floor to meet his eyes. “What?”
“To deny him his child is wrong, Alexandria.”
“But you don’t understand. I think he may be a criminal.”
“Why?”
“He won’t tell me what he does. All he will tell me is he is in the import business. He said he imports ‘machined parts’ but he won’t tell me what they are or what they are for.”
“Who does he work for?”
“Nobody. That’s the problem. He’s part of a motorcycle club and they do this import business thing.”
Grandpa rubbed his chin like he does when he is thinking. “I can understand your fears, but peo
ple can change. If he offered to help...”
“But I can’t trust him!”
“Alex, let me tell you a little story. You know I was in the Longshoremen, right?” When I nodded, he continued. “I’m not proud of what I have done, but you can’t change the past. Not only did I load and unload ships, but I also was an…enforcer… for a while.”
