Coming Home (Friends & Lovers Book 2)

by PE Kavanagh

  His breath caught, tension gripping his abdomen. “What are you saying, Ramona?”

  She flashed to what he might have been thinking. “No. I’m not saying I don’t want this… pregnancy.”

  An exhale preceded the press of a kiss into her hair.

  “I’m more scared than I’ve ever been. People don’t stick around in my life. My Dad ran to the bottle, my Mom ran to the jungle, Connor is running toward the life he knows I can’t tolerate. I won’t be able to do it on my own. It’s too much.” The tears fell hard and fast, her body finally hydrated enough to cry.

  “How about me, Mo? I’ve never run away from you.”

  “I know, but…”

  “But what?”

  There was no use in holding anything back. Her silencing her true feelings was not protecting him. “How could you possibly want all this? A woman who’s not even happy to be pregnant with your child? I saw the look of disgust on your face. I know it’s going to be too much for you, too.”

  His grip tightened around her back as she coughed and sputtered the final words.

  He didn’t speak until she’d settled back into stillness. “I’m not going anywhere. And this… you… our child… is everything I’ve ever wanted. There’s nothing you could do that could change that.”

  “I’m so scared, Luc. What if-”

  “That’s not what we’re doing right now. Tonight is for you to remember how much I love you and that I’m here. I’ve got you.”

  It did not take long for Ramona’s exhaustion to push her into a deep sleep. She dreamed of being eaten alive by piranha.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Ramona untangled herself from Lucas’ arms and nearly didn’t make it to the bathroom in time. Her hopes that all the vomiting would disappear after her stay in the hospital were dashed. Maybe the doctor was right and it was just a matter of time before it went away. At least she could hope.

  She crawled into the open space left by his curled body, letting herself be spooned.

  A moan resounded from his body to hers. “How are you, love?”

  “It’s not as bad, I think.”

  “Can I do anything for you? Would you like me to make you some tea? Get you a green juice?”

  Just the thought of the sharp, pungent drink that used to be a daily staple caused her to grit her teeth. Her body definitely didn’t want a green juice. “I’m okay for now.”

  They snuggled in silence. Ramona couldn’t get back to sleep. “Thanks for listening to me last night.”

  “I’m always here to listen.”

  “I said some pretty awful things.”

  His arms tightened around her. “I wish you’d talk to me more. I know it frightens you to say some of the things you’re thinking. But you need to remember that it’s me. You can’t scare me away.”

  She hadn’t ever been that honest with another person. “Nothing’s coming out right. Like my brain is scrambled or something.”

  “Grief and severe dehydration will do that to you. But you don’t have to make sense. That’s not who we are.”

  She pressed herself into him and for the first time in a long time, a swell of desire filled the center of her body. Nearly as violent and consuming as the waves of nausea had been. She needed him. Now.

  Ramona spun herself around to plant a kiss on his mouth and grab a handful of his ass. His shock and resistance passed quickly and he was on top of her, pressing her knees open, before she caught her breath. He pushed into her, their groans matching the fever pitch of desire. And then everything stopped.

  “Why are you stopping?” she panted.

  “I… You’re so fragile, Mo. I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “I need you to fuck me. Please. Like it’s just you and me again.” She pawed at him, but he wouldn’t let himself go. “Please, Lucas.”

  The entire spectrum of emotion appeared across his face. He held himself up on stiff arms while she pulled him to her. She tried to relax, to slow her breathing, to connect with his panicked eyes. “It’s okay, Lucas.” She stroked his cheek. “It’s me.”

  He closed his eyes and dropped a bit of his weight down. She wrapped her arms around his back, using all her self-control to touch him gently. Her hips softly pulsed and within a few breaths, he matched her movements.

  “God, Mo, I’ve missed you so much.”

  She caressed his broad, strong back, his powerful legs, his carved arms. The bristle of his beard rubbed against her cheek as the vibration of his breath penetrated her. Each stroke deepened the tremor in his body. This tower of muscle and mettle was crumbling in her arms.

  It didn’t matter that this wasn’t what she had in mind. She’d wanted to lose herself in the type of passionate claiming that made her knees buckle. But this - holding her guy as he released all he’d been protecting her from - was exactly what they both needed.

  * * *

  As carefully as Ramona could, she crawled out of bed for another trip to the bathroom, which, surprisingly did not end up with her face-down over the toilet. Maybe the hydration and the vitamins were working. Maybe.

  She splashed her face with cool water and took an unwavering look in the mirror for the first time in a long time. It was not a great sight. Sunken eyes, gaunt cheeks, none of that tawny glow she’d inherited from her mother. A month of not eating had taken its toll. It would be some time to get back to normal, and maybe by then, the whole pregnancy glow would kick in. The thought made her gasp. She was pregnant. Officially. Fuck.

  Thankfully, Lucas was still asleep as she slipped back into bed. Deep breaths, Ramona. Don’t panic. She closed her eyes and soothed herself with the most complicated list she could think of: the master list of parenting dos and don’ts.

  It wasn’t nearly as complex as she hoped, primarily because of her complete ignorance. How the hell were they going to manage?

  The sight of Lucas, so peaceful, helped her release some of the tension building up around her chest. He needed the sleep. He’d been going nonstop, taking care of her and the restaurant and everyone who needed anything. Maybe they would spend the day in bed together. And maybe she would convince him to have another round of sexy time. Her way, this time.

  * * *

  His mouth opened wide in a yawn while his hands rubbed the sleep from his eyes. He lifted his head up, as if to look for her, then put it down on her chest. One hand cupped her breast.

  “Good morning,” he said between kisses to her chest and belly.

  She smoothed the hair from his face. “Good morning, love.”

  “How are you feeling?”

  “Mmmm… so much better. Maybe Dr. Sanchez was right, and I don’t have the hyper gravy thing.”

  His hand skimmed over the top of her concave belly. So empty. But strangely full. His fingers continued downward, curling into the space between her legs. She stopped, mid-breath.

  With the heel of his hand pressing on her mound, he spread her open. The first stroke of his finger along her slit emptied the breath she was holding. The graze of his teeth on her breast elicited the first moan. When he gave her clit a light smack with several fingers - just once - she yelped.

  She closed her eyes as the sharp, hot sensation dulled. “Do that again.”

  He slapped, just a tiny bit harder this time, her wetness creating a wonderful snap to accompany the nearly involuntary squeal.

  “More?” he growled before biting harder.

  “Yes.”

  Three more times, until she could have sworn the bed had started vibrating. Maybe the entire room. Then, instead of the piercing pleasure, he took a single fingertip and circled her. Slowly, with each cycle, the pressure increased. Her fingers burrowed into his scalp and wove through handfuls of curls.

  Just as she thought she might crack from the pressure, his finger circling and circling, his thumb swiped across her clit, fingers plunged inside her, and her orgasm exploded around him.

  She was hardly aware of the lift of his body and the turn of h
ers so she was on her stomach instead of her back. He slid his hand into the space between her and the bed, one finger pressing on her while he thrust so hard, she went sliding up toward the headboard.

  He dipped his head down to her ear and whispered, “Hold on.”

  Any worries about Lucas’ previous tentativeness vanished as she braced herself, fingers gripping the bed frame, and got wonderfully, gloriously, mind-blowingly fucked.

  Ramona evaluated the bits of egg on the side of her plate. She had agreed, under duress, to try to eat something other than toast or pear slices. The first few bites of egg were fine. Lucas had cooked it perfectly, as expected. But something about the current state of her stomach was guiding her to stop. Best not to push it and ruin what had turned out to be the best morning she’d had in a really long time.

  He squeezed her shoulder. “You did great, baby.”

  What a silly thing to smile about - the fact that she’d partially eaten a tiny meal - but it didn’t stop the smile spreading across her face. “Although I’m not taking advantage of your culinary range, I’m infinitely grateful for your help.”

  “My help?” He shook his head. “Nothing means more than feeding the two most important people in my life.”

  “Two?” Oh. She patted her belly. “Winny says thanks.”

  He froze. “Did you just call the baby, Winny?”

  Couldn’t deny it. “I guess so. I’ve been thinking Baby Winston, and it just got shortened on the way out.”

  Her awkward self-consciousness sent heat to her cheeks. Before her hand had risen to cover her face, his mouth was on hers, fingers tangled in her hair, not giving her an inch. She gasped as he pulled away, just as dramatically.

  His eyes blazed. “Is it weird that I thought that was one of the sexiest things I’ve ever heard?”

  Probably, but it didn’t matter. If giving their poppy seed of a baby a silly name meant kisses like that, she was all in.

  The stun slowly wore off, allowing Ramona to speak again. “Do you have anything going on today?”

  “I hate to leave you, love, but I have to go to work. We’ve got a high profile event and I’m expected to be there. It’s for the ambassador. I think I had mentioned him.”

  Yes. With my Dad. “I understand.” She tried not to let disappointment seep into her expression.

  “If there was any way I could get out of it…”

  Don’t be a baby, Ramona. “Oh, sweetie, it’s okay. Of course you have to work. I’ll be fine.”

  “The ambassador has been a major supporter. He’s basically my sole advertising on The Hill. I need to make an appearance.”

  She hated that he felt he had to justify his doing something other than waiting on her, hand and foot. “It really is alright.” She wove her fingers through his. “Isn’t this the same guy that Connor said was trying to steal you away?”

  His face tightened. “It doesn’t mean anything, Mo. It’s just an offer.”

  “It doesn’t sound like nothing. How many American chefs get this kind of offer?”

  Lucas swallowed. “Well, only one other, as far as I know.”

  Her mouth dropped open. “Holy shit! This is a really big deal.” She shook her head. “Why aren’t you even considering it?”

  “There’s nothing to consider.” He stood up. “You… our family… my life… it’s all here. I’m not going to spend weeks or months away building a restaurant on the other side of the planet.”

  He picked up her plate and brought it over to the sink. His discomfort was palpable, but she couldn’t let it go. “I’m going to ask you something, and you have to promise to not get mad.”

  He turned with a frown. “Mo…”

  “If I wasn’t here, and… pregnant… would you be taking this more seriously? It sounds like a once-in-a-lifetime offer.”

  He dropped the plate, which clattered loudly. “Business comes and goes. Love and family are my priorities. I thought you knew that.”

  Guilt pushed on her partially full belly. She should have known. This discussion wasn’t worth ruining the wonderful morning they’d had. “I do know. And I love that about you.”

  His frown turned into a smile, but her concern didn’t dissipate quite so easily. The last thing she wanted was for him to feel tied down, unable to pursue his heart’s desire. If it wasn’t for her, he would go after this amazing offer. She was sure of it.

  “You remembered that Camille and Jackson are in town, right?”

  The abrupt change of topic made her head spin. “Wait! It’s the thirtieth? Today is December thirtieth?” It couldn’t be.

  He laughed. “Yes, love. We’ve been living time-free for a while. Pretty much missed Christmas.”

  She scrunched her face. “Shit. What a mess. I’ll have to make it up to you soon. But today, I’m pretty sure I’m supposed to be meeting with Camille about the bambinos.”

  “If you’re not up to it, I’m sure she would understand. I can give them a call and-”

  “No. It’s fine. It’ll be nice to wrap my brain around something that’s not…” She couldn’t get herself to actually say it, the topics that had hijacked her life: her father’s death, her pregnancy, and now the fact that she had become the proverbial ball and chain.

  * * *

  By the time the doorbell rang, Ramona could almost be mistaken for someone who hadn’t spent the past ten days in bed. Hair tied back, clean clothes, smile on her face.

  She had hardly opened the door before Camille was wrapped around her. Ramona wasn’t even able to hug back, her arms pinned to her sides in her friend’s unrelenting grip.

  “It’s so good to see you,” Camille said as she finally loosened her grasp.

  Ramona stepped aside. “Come in.”

  “I’ve been thinking about you so much.” Camille paused before sitting down.

  “You have?” Ramona hadn’t meant for that to come out sounding quite so dumbfounded.

  “I’m so sorry about your father. We didn’t get to see you at the funeral and I was so worried.”

  Ramona rubbed her forehead, trying the piece together the sparse memories from that day. “You were here for the funeral?”

  Camille’s brows lifted. “Of course. Lucas told us you were really ill, so we didn’t want to intrude.”

  Ramona shook off the memory and remembered her manners instead. “What can I get you? Coffee? Tea? Something to eat?” Thankfully, her amazing guy had set up some snacks.

  “I’m fine for now, thanks.” Camille nodded.

  The compassion coming off of her friend reached right into the center of Ramona’s chest. Camille had experienced one of the worst tragedies imaginable - both parents murdered when she was a teenager. But now, she was one of the most together people in Ramona’s life. So smart, recently engaged to Jackson, and not at all scarred or broken. This woman was like a rare bird.

  Camille tilted her head. “I really want to know how you’re doing.”

  “But we’re supposed to be meeting about the mansion. Next steps and such.”

  Ramona picked up the glass of water she’d left on the side table and took a sip. Camille gazed at her, eyes so soft and warm, a smile lifting her lips. If ever there was a moment to come clean, to say everything she’d been holding in for fear of hurting Lucas, this was the moment. Especially with Connor mastering his assholery, she might never have as receptive an audience again.

  “Come sit down, Ramona.” Camille patted the couch. “We can talk business afterward. First, I want to hear about you.”

  The tears began as soon as her bottom hit the cushion, as if they’d been lying in wait. Camille slid over and took her hand.

  “Not that great, Cam. Actually, not great at all.”

  Camille’s arm moved around her shoulders as she sobbed.

  The burst of emotion passed quickly. “Wow, I’m always surprised to have any more tears left. I think I’ve used a few lifetimes’ worth.”

  Camille handed her a tissue. “I’m here,
Mo. You can talk or you can cry or whatever you need. I know there comes a time, much too soon, when people expect you to be normal again even when you’re feeling anything but. You don’t have to pretend that everything’s okay. I get it.”

  Of course she did. She’d been through much worse than this.

  The urge to speak supplanted her tears. “I don’t even know where to start. You wouldn’t believe all the drama that’s happened in the past few months. Like all of a sudden, my life has become a soap opera, complete with dead fathers, crazy exes, blackmail schemes, power-hungry brothers, and an accidental pregnancy.”

  Surprise overtook Camille’s normally composed face. “Oh… that’s… uh…”

  Ramona laughed. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to vomit it all out at once.” She flitted eyes at Camille’s open mouth. “I’ve gotten really good at that, lately. Vomiting.”

  “Oh?”

  “I know I’m not supposed to tell anyone - it’s pretty early - but I’m pregnant. How crazy, right? In the middle of all of this, adding a baby into the mix.” She dropped her head in her hands.

  Camille’s hand brushed across her back. “Congratulations.”

  The sweetness of the word forced Ramona to look up. Camille was the first person she’d told and had no idea what to expect. How do people usually react to unplanned pregnancies? That expression on Camille’s face looked a lot like happiness.

  “Thanks. I’m as scared as I’ve ever been, but also…” Happy? Excited? “Hopeful. Is that insane? I’ve got this brand new relationship, this brand new life, and I’m almost excited about having a baby.”

  “It makes total sense to me.”

  Ramona wanted to ask how and why and what could possibly make sense about all that, but instead hugged her friend.

  “I’m sure Lucas is thrilled, right?”

  Thrilled didn’t begin to describe it. “When I look at him, I feel like this is his fairy tale. He built this house for a wife and whole bunch of kids and then made it happen.”

  Another vault of Camille’s eyebrows. “Wife? Are you two…?”