Fool for Love (Believe #2)

by Karen Ferry

  He leans forward and rests his forehead against mine.

  “You’re an amazing woman, Suzanne Christensen,” he whispers.

  I jump slightly.

  “That’s the first time you’ve said my full name,” I whisper back.

  “I know; but this moment seems like a big one somehow.” He leans back and angles his head a bit, placing a sweet kiss on my mouth. My lips tingle like always when I feel his touch, and I make to deepen it when we’re interrupted by my phone belting out the lyrics to Jon Bon Jovi’s ‘We’ve Got It Going On’.

  Garrett groans and drops his head on my shoulder. I feel just as annoyed by the interruption as he does. I hurry to take the phone that’s lying on the couch and when I see it’s my mum calling, my eyes widen in surprise.

  I lean away from Garrett and show him the Caller-ID, and then hurry to answer it.

  “Hello?”

  “Suzanne?” my mum’s voice greets me. “I hope I didn’t catch you at a bad time?”

  The insecurity in her voice does funny things to my insides.

  “No, mum, you didn’t.” Feeling Garrett’s hand on my neck, his thumb making soft circles on my sensitive skin, I look up and take courage from the protective way he’s staring at me.

  “How are you?” my mum’s voice calls me back to the present.

  “Ah, I’m good, thanks. Really good, actually.”

  “I’m glad to hear it.”

  An awkward silence falls between us, and I shrug at Garrett’s questioning stare.

  “Did you get my email?” she asks me.

  My heart begins to beat faster.

  “Yes,” I whisper.

  “I…I miss you, Suzy,” she cries. The brokenness in her voice followed by a sniffle makes my stomach clench. “I wanted to apologise in person for those horrible things I said to you all those months ago. I’m…I’m so sorry, dearest.”

  Tears gather in my eyes from hearing the endearment.

  She hasn’t called me that in years.

  “Mum,” I whisper, not sure of how to go on.

  “I know that the way I reacted when you…when you came out was unforgivable, Suzy…not a day goes by when I don’t regret spewing such foul words at you, at my own daughter.”

  More tears fall. I can hear them in her voice, and my breath hitches from trying to keep mine at bay.

  “I…I just wanted to tell you that I understand if you can’t forgive me, but that I hope you’ll find it in your heart to do so one day.”

  I can hear her blow her nose, and I smile gratefully at Garrett when he hands me a napkin from the coffee table behind us. I dab my eyes and sniffle.

  “Mum, I don’t know what to say,” I murmur softly when I find my bearings. “What you said…that hurt so much.”

  She sobs. “I know, and I don’t know what came over me, honey. I swear, I’m so sorry.”

  I wipe my eyes and swallow the lump in my throat.

  “Mum, we need to have a real talk, and soon, but I need more time. Thank you for calling. I hear what you’re saying, and your apology means the world to me. Truly, it does.”

  “But?” she asks, her voice quiet.

  I take a deep breath and then take the plunge.

  “I’ve met someone so very special to me, mum.”

  “Oh?” I smile at the open curiosity I can hear in that single word.

  “Yes. His name’s Garrett Thompson, and he owns his own restaurant.”

  Garrett looks questioningly at me, arched brow in place, when I say his name.

  For once, I’m thrilled that he doesn’t know all the important words in Danish, because what I’m about to tell my mother should technically be for his ears alone.

  Looking down, I take a deep breath.

  “Mum…I love him,” I whisper, voice hoarse. “So very, very much.” Garrett’s body stills completely, but I’m so focused on my phone call with my mother that I don’t notice it at once.

  “Honey,” she breathes. “Oh, my gosh…”

  I nod even though she can’t see me.

  “I know. This is huge.”

  I sigh and continue to whisper.

  “The problem is that he hasn’t said that he loves me yet, and I’m worried…I…” I glance quickly up at the man who holds my heart and gasp at the blazing gaze that meets mine.

  “Honey, if there’s one thing I know about you that I doubt will ever change, it’s that you follow your heart. You always have. I don’t think you should hold back now.”

  I frown.

  “What do you mean?” I ask her.

  Her voice turns fierce. “It means that you should always go where your heart leads you; yes, there’ll be plenty of bumps on the road, but, Suzy – you’re a strong woman. You can handle whatever storms that come your way.”

  “I’m still scared,” I keep whispering, wanting so badly for Garrett to say those three pesky, frustrating words to me first; but I don’t see that happening anytime soon.

  “Suzanne,” Mum’s voice softens, and I pay close attention. “Believe in yourself. Have faith that even if this man ends up hurting you beyond belief, you’ll come out the other side even stronger than before. Promise me?”

  I take some time to really take in her words, and then I whisper, “Yes. I promise.”

  “Good. Is he –?”

  “He’s sitting right here next to me, mum. I’ll email you later and give you all the details, okay?”

  “Please do. I’d love to hear about him.”

  “I’m really glad you called, mum.” The tears well up again. “I meant to call you sooner, but it’s been so hectic here lately, and –”

  “Please don’t apologise,” she says. Even though her voice remains gentle, it comes out strong, and my heart warms from hearing it. “I don’t blame you for keeping away from me, Suzy. I really don’t.”

  I open my mouth, but Garrett silences me with a finger on my lips. I frown at him when he holds his hand out to me; my heart hammers away against my ribcage when he indicates with his head that he wants to talk with my mother.

  ‘No’ I mouth at him. But in a swift move, he takes it from me, and I stare at him when he begins to speak to my mother.

  “Mrs. Christensen, this is Garrett Thompson speaking. I felt it was time that I introduced myself.” Fuming, I cross my arms and glare at him, but his lips only twitch with amusement.

  “I also want to tell you that the only reason I haven’t told Suzanne that I love her yet is because I was planning a surprise for her.”

  My eyes bulge, and I slump on his lap, feeling winded and completely gobsmacked.

  ‘Breathe’, he mouths at me.

  I gulp like a fish.

  How the hell – he loves me?

  “No, Mrs. Christensen, I haven’t learned Danish yet, but I’ve picked up a couple of things,” he explains.

  He keeps silent, the same fierce expression marring his every feature, no doubt listening to what my mother has to say.

  “Yes, ma’am, I promise you,” he vows. “It was nice to talk with you. Oh, and one more thing…” His voice loses its polite tone. “If your husband ever lays a hand on Suzy again, there’ll be hell to pay.”

  I groan and cover my eyes with my hands, mortified.

  “Here’s Suzy again, ma’am. Goodbye.”

  My head snaps up and I wrench the phone from him.

  “Mum, I have to go,” I hurry to say, almost tripping over the words in my haste.

  “Yes, you do, my dear. But wow…what a guy, hey?”

  “Mum!” I snap.

  “Oh, yes, of course. Please don’t forget to email me, okay?”

  “I won’t. Promise. Bye.”

  Not giving her a chance to respond, I end the call and jab a finger in Garrett’s chest.

  “What the hell was that?” I almost shout at him.

  He wraps his arms around me and pulls me closer. I brace my hands on his shoulders, refusing to give in to whatever distractions he has no doubt planned for
me.

  “That, my love,” he murmurs, “was me trying to get your mom to go away so I could fuck you and tell you that I love you.”

  “What?!” I shriek.

  He looks to the ceiling and seems to be lost in thought.

  “Well, probably not in that order,” he muses, and I grab his face in my hands, needing his eyes to be on mine now.

  “How did you know I told her that I love you?” I ask him quietly, tightening my grip, almost desperate for answers.

  “I googled how to tell you earlier this morning while you were in the shower.”

  “Oh, I see.” I clench my teeth at how blasé he sounds just now – like he can’t grasp how huge this moment is. “And when were you going to tell me those words?”

  He grins at me, clearly amused, but I don’t get it.

  “Well, since I’ve been bursting to tell you for a long time, I wouldn’t have been able to hold it in for much longer, waif.”

  I stiffen, narrowing my eyes at him.

  “Define ‘a long time’, please?”

  The playfulness disappears from his eyes, replacing it with the familiar intensity.

  “Suzy, I have only said those words to two women in my life: my mama, and Cecilia. I wanted, no, needed some time to sort out the mess in my head before revealing the true depth of my feelings to you.” He shifts underneath me and leans back on the couch, still keeping my body pinned to his.

  “Do you understand that?”

  The seconds tick by as I try to understand his reasons, and then I relax slightly against him.

  “Yes. But now that you have, aren’t you forgetting something?”

  He smirks at me and then leans forward to capture my mouth in a searing, toe-curling kiss. I meet his tongue with mine, trying to put all my love into it, throwing caution to the wind.

  This man intoxicates me.

  He makes me feel everything. Hope, happiness, heat, tenderness, anger, frustration, impatience – everything.

  I can literally feel his love for me in this kiss. The way his lips move over mine, gentle, yet firm, branding me as his, making my head swim. His hands move up to cradle my face, and when I open my eyes, wanting to see him as I tell him that I love him, I become lost in the warmth of his brown gaze.

  “Ti amo, amore mio,” he whispers, and my lips tremble. “Jeg elsker dig. I love you, waif. You came into my life when I was wandering, lost in darkness, and your light burned me. You made me feel something for the first time in over a decade, and you pushed me to see that denying myself a chance at a good life was wrong.”

  “Garrett,” I breathe.

  But he isn’t done.

  “I still don’t know what you see in me, but I can’t let you go now. You’re mine. If you’ll have me, I promise that I will treasure you and your heart for the rest of my days.”

  I fling myself at him, kissing every inch of his beautiful face that I can reach as I hold him tightly.

  “Of course I’ll have you, you stupid, stubborn man,” I cry, laughing when I feel the vibration of his beloved rumble sounding in his chest.

  Our laughter dies down, but I hold on as tight as I can. My heart is light, and free, and the future holds nothing but possibilities for us. I know it.

  “I love you, Garrett – so, so much,” I whisper.

  His arms flinch and then tighten around me. I can feel his hard dick pressing in on me, waking up my desire, and I lean back to kiss him and press down, rocking against him. He groans against my mouth, and a thrill courses down my spine at the tantalising heat that he always manages to awaken in me when he’s near.

  “Make love to me, please,” I sigh.

  Not having to be told twice, he stands up, and I wrap my legs around his back, locking them in place. He walks us to our bed, all the while trailing his lips across my neck and collarbone. My blood heats up when he places me on the bed and I feel his familiar weight settle on me.

  We stare into each other’s eyes for a long moment, his hands pinning down my arms, and my eyes lingering on his scar for once.

  “You’re beautiful, Garrett,” I whisper softly.

  He winces and closes his eyes briefly.

  “I hope you’ll come to believe it one day.” I make a silent vow to myself to tell him those exact words often.

  “The way you see me takes my breath away, my love.”

  I smile at him when he lowers his mouth, and then I lose myself in his lovemaking, all the while rejoicing that I have the man of my dreams.

  I have my happily-ever-after at last, and I’ll fight tooth and nail to keep it.

  Forever.

  6 years later

  “MOM! CHARLIE WON’T STOP hitting my head with her doll! Make her stop!”

  The muffled, but no less angry voice that belongs to one of my five-year-old twin boys, Jonathan, reaches my ears in the laundry room. Like all mothers around the world know, I need to go play referee at once before all hell breaks loose. With a sigh, I abandon the laundry I’ve been busy folding for the last twenty minutes.

  I walk swiftly down the long hallway that takes me to the bedroom of my twins.

  “What’s happening, Jon? Sam?”

  I place my hands on my hips as I stand in the doorway, trying to survey the damage before me.

  My sweet little Charlotte is standing in front of the flat screen TV, which hangs on the wall to my right, looking very innocent in her glittery, pink top and purple skirt; she gives me a big smile, her right hand fiddling with her long, blonde curls. I narrow my eyes a bit when I take in the doll she’s hiding behind her back.

  That girl can be so devious sometimes.

  And she’s only three.

  Lord help me.

  “Mom, can’t you take her now?” Samuel begs, pushing up the glasses that have slipped down his nose. I look to the centre of the room where he’s sitting on the floor with Jonathan, trying to build a very difficult LEGO tower – or that’s what it looks like to me, but I could be wrong. Both of them look adorably cute, all cranky and tired even though it’s only early afternoon. I’m glad they’re not identical twins. They get into enough trouble almost on a daily basis – at least I don’t have to play a game of Who’s Who every time I look at them.

  “Sam, honey, you know I have so much to do today.” I wipe my sweaty brow. “I thought you could at least play together quietly while I sorted out the laundry, but I guess I was wrong. Your dad will be home in a couple of hours, and we still haven’t made the cake, remember?”

  Jonathan huffs. “She always ruins everything.”

  “Jon!” I snap and walk inside to sit down next to him. “That’s no way to talk about your sister.”

  He crosses his arms, and my annoyance lessens up when his lips begin to quiver.

  “Sorry, mom,” he mumbles. “But she does.”

  I run a hand over his dark-brown curls and rest my hand on his cheek. He’s so sensitive and gentle, whereas his brother is a tough smartass.

  “She’s young, sweetie. Before you know it, she’ll be the age the two of you are now, and then you’ll all be able to play the same things.”

  I cross my fingers behind my back. Technically, I’m telling them a white lie, but they don’t need to know that. Right now, it’s all about damage control.

  “Mama,” Charlotte calls to me. I turn my attention to the little troublemaker. She’s crossed her legs, fidgeting on the spot, and I know I have to work fast if I want to avoid any accidents on the carpet.

  “I have to go pee-pee,” she whines.

  I stand up and walk quickly to her spot and pick her up.

  “Right, let’s go.” I glance down at my boys before I give her forehead a kiss. “Jon, Sam, I’ll be back in a bit, and then we’ll make your dad’s birthday cake. Alright?”

  “Yes, mom,” they mumble at the same time. My heart skips a beat with the unconditional love I have for my boys.

  I turn back to Charlie who’s playing with the end of my braid hanging over my left
shoulder.

  “As for you, young lady: when we’re done, you’ll apologise to your brothers for hitting them.”

  I raise my eyebrow at her, giving her the sternest look I can manage, as we leave the bedroom.

  “Yes, mama. Sorry, mama.”

  Placing her on my right hip, I shake my head in wonder and think back on how this became my life.

  Marriage.

  Three children.

  And all of it before my thirtieth birthday.

  “Right, sweetie, let’s do our best to get back on track, yeah?” I say to Charlie as I open the door to the bathroom. “Daddy will be home soon.”

  “Yay!” When she claps her hands, all excited about seeing her dad again, I can’t help but laugh with her, forgetting how tired I am.

  Yes. It’ll be great to have Garrett home again.

  Sometimes, I miss living in Garrett’s old apartment, but I love our red-bricked town house in Brooklyn. True, it’s not as fancy as Manhattan, but when we found out that I was pregnant with the twins, we knew we needed to move and find a more family-friendly place to call our home. This house, while not exactly new, but which has a lovely garden and four bedrooms, was in the right price range for us. The real estate agent told us that the reason it wasn’t as expensive as others was the fact that the seller was an elderly lady who’d had a stroke recently; her family just wanted to sell it quickly so they could move her into a nice retirement home.

  I know that Garrett actually enjoys taking the train into the city, and since we decided to buy a car a couple of years ago, I don’t have to worry about transportation when I need to go to a client’s house, either.

  “Sam! Jon! Time to make the cake!” I call out to them as I walk into the kitchen, Charlotte skipping behind me while she hums the tune of The Finger Family song. I really need to find some other songs for her before this one makes me lose my mind.

  “Coming, mom!” they shout. I go to the sink and wash my hands, turning around to Charlie next to me.

  “Honey, can you fetch the big, yellow bowl for me, please? The one Auntie Emma sent to us for Christmas?”

  Nodding, she heads to the cupboard at the bar and takes it out. I can hear the running feet of my sons as they come closer, and I beam at them when they rush inside and step next to me to wash their hands.