by Jessie Cooke
She pulled her mouth off of him, and immediately, he missed the warmth. She shifted herself forward, angling herself over him, her hands gently guiding him into her as his legs stretched out on the bed—one in a plaster cast, the other able to spread wider so that he could go deeper. Bella slowly brought Reece into her, her back to him, resting herself on her knees, giving her the ability to move herself up and down the length of him.
Reece placed both hands on each side of her waist. “Christ, Bella, where did you get this idea?”
“Don’t think I haven’t tried to plan the best way to seduce you while you’re in this cast,” she said, her back to him.
“Seems to me like you’ve thought about it very carefully,” he said.
“You like?” she asked.
“Mmmmmm,” was the best answer she could have gotten. Slowly and steadily—as steadily as she could anyway—she raised herself and then lowered herself several times. Had she had it her way, she would have pumped away, but she wanted him to feel every movement, every twinge of her muscles around him. She clinched and tightened as she withdrew and then opened herself for him in the receiving.
Reece figured out a way to angle himself so that he rested the leg in the cast while he could make the other side work for him more, and he gripped her lower hips as his slight thrusts met her rhythmic movements. He reached around in front of her and between her legs, putting pressure on the hardened core of her, and her movements increased. She placed her hand on his, applying more pressure, the blood rushing from her head to the area of intensity. She gasped, and almost immediately heard Reece’s breath catch as well until together, their voices surged, the electricity moving between them, from one body into the next, and they slowed their pace to a happy stillness.
71
Bella slid herself from the sweaty sheets, doing her best not to disturb the sleeping Reece. She had watched him fall asleep after their lovemaking, glad he didn’t see the tears that had come to her this time.
She’d never cried after making love, even with her last long-term relationship. No one had ever brought her to tears, made her feel that level of emotion before.
That’s it, she thought, I’m a goner. I’m in love with him, and I’m not going to be able to live life without him . . . especially not after all of this.
She thought of the whole cliché—about what doesn’t kill you making you stronger, about how tragedies bring people closer, and she realized just how true it was. She went into the bathroom to dress herself, combed her hair and pulled it back into a fresh braid, and tiptoed out of the room. She wanted to make him dinner. She wanted to do his laundry. She wanted to spend the rest of her life doing nothing but the mundane, everyday things with him, just to show him how much she loved him.
She pulled the steaks out of the refrigerator and peeled potatoes to put on to boil. She hummed as she rested the steaks in the marinade and cut up ingredients for a salad. A simple, all-American meal for her all-American man, who was anything but simple. As she busied herself in the kitchen, it struck Bella just how at home she did feel in the apartment. In fact, she dreaded the idea of going back to her own apartment in Fort Worth for two very specific reasons: one was that she didn’t think it would feel quite like hers anymore for some reason, and secondly, she wouldn’t have Reece either. The truth of the matter was that now that she was living with him—even in the most challenging of circumstances—she didn’t want to live without him.
She slid back into his bedroom and gently roused him with her lips gently brushing his cheek, his eyelids, his forehead.
“Dinner’s ready,” she said softly, sweeping his black waves away from his eyes. He needed a haircut, and she vowed to call his stylist tomorrow and ask her to make a house call. “Think you can make it into the dining room? A little change of scenery may do you some good,” she said.
She’d already arranged the table so that he could prop his plastered leg up on an extra chair. His smile told her he was hungry for both dinner and a change of view. Candles flickered in greeting as Reece hobbled into the dining room on his crutches. Bella helped get him seated and left to retrieve their salads and wine.
“This is nice,” he said upon her return. She responded by kissing the top of his head and seating herself beside him.
“Since you aren’t on the pain pills, you can have wine,” she said as she poured them each a glass to begin their dinner. She raised her glass in a toast, and he joined. “To health and happiness.”
“I’ve got one, let’s just make sure I heal okay and get the other one,” was Reece’s response.
They drank from their respective glasses, locking eyes with each other and smiling into the candlelight.
“You know, a man could get used to this,” Reece said as he began to cut into his steak. One swift slice of the knife, and the meat fell away, tender and beckoning. He put it in his mouth and held it there a moment as he closed his eyes and appreciated the taste. “Delicious,” he said, his mouth full.
“I’m glad you like it, and I’m glad you’re happy,” Bella remarked. “I’ve got an idea to fly by you,” she said, the hesitation in her voice indicating to Reece the seriousness of her discussion.
“If you’re going to tell me that you want to go back to Fort Worth, then I might just have to fight you on that one,” he smiled.
“But that’s just it,” Bella said. “I don’t want to go back to Fort Worth. It already feels lonely when I think about it. These two weeks have been better . . . more than I could imagine, Reece.” She stopped to fortify herself with another sip from the wine glass before continuing. “I . . . I’m thinking of asking Rita for a transfer . . . back to Dallas. I want to be with you, and it’s going to be harder to do in Fort Worth, working for Dreamscapes there.”
“You want a demotion?” Reece asked.
“I want to be here, closer to you,” Bella forged on. “There’s nothing for me in Fort Worth. I like the office there, but . . . now that the hard part is done, any fool could run it. Dallas is my home. You are my home.”
Reece reached across the table for Bella’s hand. “I’m so glad you finally realized this,” he said softly. “And if I’d known it only took my getting hit by a car for you to realize it, I would have done this a long time ago.”
He smiled, and Bella laughed lightly.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
“For what?”
“For not being honest with you or myself about my feelings for you before now.”
Reece reached his hand towards Bella’s cheek, and she pushed her face forward into his palm. “I’m just glad you’re honest about it now. I think it’s a wonderful idea: to talk to Rita about coming back. But I only want you to do it on one condition.”
Bella felt her stomach drop a bit, afraid perhaps she pushed him too far too fast. “What?” she asked tentatively.
“You move in here—with me. I want you to be here with me, Bella. I’ve always said this place is one I pictured us in. Make it a reality. Come live here, Bella, where you belong.”
Bella smiled with relief and joy. Her nod began slowly, but soon she was nodding emphatically and saying, “Yes.” She slid out of her chair and approached Reece, catching his face in her hands and bringing her lips down to his. “I can’t believe we’re going to do this,” she said.
“It’s about damn time,” he said, his grin sideways on his face.
She settled herself back into her chair and took a bite of mashed potatoes. “Oh, and don’t get used to all of this,” she said waving her fork around to include the entire scene and meal. “This is only on special occasions.”
Reece cut another piece of steak and popped it into his mouth. “Now what makes you think that living every day with me is not going to be a special occasion?” he joked.
Bella rolled her eyes sarcastically. “Dear god, I may be creating a monster.”
“But a devilishly handsome monster whom you love,” Reece countered.
And she couldn’t
argue with that.
The next day, Bella met up with Christo for coffee.
“We haven’t done this in what seems like forever,” Christo said, settling in with his latte.
Bella sipped her macchiato and allowed a sigh of contentment to escape her lips.
“You look like the cat who ate the canary,” Christo smirked. “What is it that makes Bella so happy, I wonder? Does it have anything to do with a tall, dark, and insanely handsome man named Reece Hamilton?”
She couldn’t keep herself from smiling. In fact, now that Bella thought about it, she couldn’t remember a time she hadn’t been smiling in the past two or three days. In fact, that said a lot. If she was this happy with Reece in the midst of having to care for him to this extent, she could be happy with him living a “normal” life, doing the day-to-day without the cast and extra care he needed.
“I’m going to talk to Rita and hopefully move back to Dallas,” she announced.
Christo leaned forward in his chair. “Tell me you’re moving in with Reece,” he prompted.
To which Bella nodded. “I’m moving in with Reece,” she said. “As long as the job thing works out,” she amended. “That’s going to depend on Rita.”
Christo waved his hand in front of his face. “You don’t need to worry about Rita.”
“Oh, really?” Bella said, one eyebrow cocked higher than the other. “And what makes you so sure?”
“Because it’s our time now, Bella.”
“What does that even mean?” she laughed.
“Divine Designs. It’s time.”
Her light-hearted chuckle turned into a full-on guffaw. “And how, pray tell, are we going to afford starting up a business right now in our lives?” she asked.
“Where there’s a will, there’s a way, Bella. Didn’t your momma ever teach you that one?”
“Yes,” Bella said, licking her lips after a sip from her coffee. “But she also taught me another.”
“Which is?”
“That money doesn’t grow on trees.”
Christo pursed his lips. “Trust, my dear. We’re just going to have to seize the day.”
Bella smirked to end the conversation, but inside, she felt her heart skip a beat. This actually could happen. Ever since Haiti, Bella had dreamed of going into business with Christo. They were a dynamite team, and their designs together were making waves. Already several magazines had featured spreads of the resort in Haiti, and the critics seemed to love what Bella and Christo could do together. She had confidence that with some of her contacts and Christo’s networking through the art world, they could accrue some high-end clients who would love to have Christo Drake’s original work all through their house.
Christo clapped his hands in front of his chest like an excited little kid. “I am so ready for you to get your tail back to Dallas,” he said. “Not just for my sake but for your own. You can’t have a larger-than-life romance with Reece if you aren’t living in the same city with him. And now that you’ll be living in the same apartment with him, it’s going to be even better!”
“You know, you should visit him when you have some time,” Bella said, the thought springing up. “I know Reece likes you; he’s always going on about what a riot you are. It might do him some good to see some friendly faces other than mine.”
A revelation passed across Christo’s face, and his eyes widened slightly. “You know, I should go see him. We were going to meet up anyway—before the accident. I totally forgot about all of that. He called me the day he had the accident. Said he needed to talk—needed it to be me because I knew you so well. It was all quite cryptic.” He shrugged. “Oh my god, maybe he was going to propose! Oh, Bella. I’ll bet that was it. He was thinking about orchestrating this terrific proposal and then the accident happened and ruined it.” Christo reached over and patted Bella’s knee sympathetically. “I’m sorry, honey. It’s still going to happen though, I just know it.”
“Christo, you don’t even know if that’s what he was planning. Let’s not get too carried away, dismissing the proposal that never was planned before I even move in with the man. This is all happening way too fast,” Bella said, gripping her head.
“You’re right,” Christo admitted. “It could have been any number of things. Must not have been too terribly important, or I would have heard something from him by now, I’m guessing.”
“Well, he’s been otherwise engaged, so he can’t get out on his own yet. Maybe soon, but . . . seems to me it’d do him some good for you to stop in.”
After a sip from his latte, he nodded. “I’m going to do just that. I’ll call and see what will work best for him. And I’ll find out if there was a proposal in the works,” Christo promised.
“You’ll do no such thing,” Bella admonished. “Let him do what he wants to do and in his own time. If it comes up in conversation, great, but don’t go in there with these grandiose plans and ideas. Just go for a friendly visit, that’s it.”
Christo sipped from his coffee. “Good idea.”
“I think he’s meeting up with Nicky this afternoon—part of why I called you, no offense. I’m afraid all hell is gonna break loose in that apartment this afternoon.”
“Oooo, do tell! Is he finally coming clean to her about you two?” Christo loved to dish, as he called it, and anything that served Nicky her “just desserts” was good stuff by Christo’s standards. Bella doubted he would ever forgive Nicky, and were he to learn the rest of the story—about her stealing from Reece and about who the real father was—she was certain he would write her completely off as a villain. Bella wasn’t completely convinced she wouldn’t do the same to Nicky herself. She thought Nicky needed to be thanking her lucky stars that she had such a wonderful baby that both Bella and Reece had fallen for—and hard. If it weren’t for Hayley Jo, Bella was sure Reece would have Nicky’s ass in jail so fast she wouldn’t even be able to say “Orange is the New Black.”
“I’ll wait and let him tell you what he wants to tell you,” Bella said cautiously. “There’s a lot that he’s dealing with, but I’ll tell you this much: we were friends with one person we knew as Nicky Martin. This Nicky is not the same, and I blame a lot of it on Dave.”
“Dave? He’s not even in the picture anymore,” Christo said, surprised. “Is he?”
“Oh, he’s very present. More present than any of us had any idea about and for a long time.”
72
“It really was an accident.”
“The way you say it doesn’t make it sound like an accident.”
Nicky turned to the numbers that glowed blue in the darkness. It was twelve minutes after midnight, but it felt like she had just lain down for the night. The sound of the phone at such an hour had startled her awake—her heart practically leapt from her chest, and now she was trying to keep it from exploding from her the walls of flesh that seemed to suppress it. Dave was on the other end of the phone call confessing to something she couldn’t believe.
“I meant that I hadn’t planned on making something happen. I hadn’t gone looking for him so that I could injure him,” Dave said.
“Okay, you’re starting to confuse me,” Nicky said calmly. She turned the lamp on hoping that the light would wake her up more, make it all more coherent. “Start over.”
On the other end of the phone, Dave took a deep breath. “First, I want you to promise that you won’t tell him.”
“Who?”
“Reece.”
“What am I not telling him?”
“That I knocked him off his bike.”
“I was afraid that you were going to say that,” she mumbled. “So, you did.”
Another deep inhale from Dave. “I did. I couldn’t really help myself. I saw him, there on his bike, and I thought of how unfair everything was: he’s rich; we’re struggling. He’s spending time giving Hayley Jo all that she could ever want or need; I’m slinking around as if I don’t exist. I was so intent on him and my hatred towards him that I forgot f
or a second that I was driving. I lost control of the car, and it was like the car was on him before I even realized what was happening. Almost like the car knew what I really wanted and wished on him, deep down, but would never actually do. His body hit the grill of the car, and that’s what sort of woke me up from this trance. I realized what I had done, and I was scared someone had seen it, so I fled. Sped away dialing 911 in the process.”
Nicky rubbed her forehead. “Why couldn’t you just stick with the plan? Everything was going fine.”
“No, it wasn’t. He was getting to be a father to Hayley Jo; I wasn’t. And you were the one who told me you thought he was suspicious about the missing money.”
“That’s no reason to kill the man, Dave!” she enunciated clearly and loudly into the phone.
“I wasn’t trying to kill him,” Dave defended.
“You sure?”
The question hung in the air, unanswered, and Nicky knew Dave well enough to know he was asking himself the truth.
“I told you to let me handle it,” Nicky said as soothingly as she could, though inside, she felt an intense irritation at the man for not allowing her to work at her own pace. She changed her tone. “Don’t you trust me?” she asked, her voice sounding both seductive and subtle at the same time.
“Yes,” Dave responded.
“Then prove it,” she came back carefully.
“I’m sorry. I know I really screwed this up. I tried to make it right,” he said. “I hid myself until I saw the EMTs get to him.”
“I know. I know. It’s good you called 911 when you did. It’s just, well, I wish you hadn’t had to in the first place.”
“Nicky, you know I’d do anything for you and for Hayley Jo, too. I just couldn’t stand the sight of him, knowing that he was living my dream, being the man I want to be, providing for my family when I can’t. You don’t know what it does to a man, Nicky.”
Nicky threw her head back against the wall and stared up at the ceiling. “Dave, it’s okay,” she tried soothing him again. “I’ll figure something out, just be patient. And trust me.”
