by Nicole Vidal
“What are you thinking, beautiful?”
“Can’t read my thoughts right now?”
He smiles. It’s genuine and makes my heart pitter-patter faster. He only smiles at me like that. “I probably could, but I would rather you tell me.”
I pull my lower lip between my teeth. “I want you.”
“I need some time, woman.”
I laugh. “Yes, that too. But I mean you, all of you.”
“I love how that sounds. Say it again.” He winks at me.
“I want you, all of you, even after my tour when I don’t need a bodyguard anymore.”
“We should probably address that after dessert.”
Having a serious conversation with Connor doesn’t even make me nervous. I purse my lips. “There’s dessert?”
“What kind of man takes a woman on a date and doesn’t offer her dessert?”
“That wasn’t dessert?”
“You and your sass. There’s actual dessert in the fridge. Want to have it in here or the kitchen?”
I shimmy upward so I don’t have to crane my neck quite so much. “Here, I don’t plan on getting dressed until I have to leave.”
He groans, presses a kiss to my lips, and rolls off his bed. “I’ll be back in a bit. He pulls on his boxer briefs and leaves his bedroom. I slide off the bed and head into the bathroom. It’s been an exceedingly long time since I saw a happy reflection in the mirror. I’ve missed her. After cleaning up a bit, I draw back the gray-toned bedding and slide beneath it.
Soon thereafter Connor comes into his room with our clothes.
“Do you want help?” I offer.
“I wouldn’t say no to help normally. However, it would require you to put on clothes, and I don’t want to mess up your plan.” He winks at me and leaves again. I sigh and snuggle deeper under the sheets.
When Connor returns, he has a tray with dessert and coffee on it. Could he be any more perfect?
“Only for you, gorgeous.”
I can feel my cheeks reddening.
“What part of that made you blush?” He sets the tray on the lower part of the bed and carefully sits beside me before pulling it closer.
“The fact that you answer my thoughts, and I think the same thing.” I scoop out some of the chocolate dessert and offer it to Connor. While he savors his bite, he feeds me his. It’s chocolate, creamy, and smooth, probably some type of pudding or custard.
“This is delicious. Didn’t you say Jill was a teacher?”
“She is for children with severe developmental deficits. Cooking is her hobby.”
“She’s talented. Everything was perfect.”
“You should tell her tomorrow,” Connor says once again.
“You never did answer my question about restrictions. How much do you plan on sharing with your family? What is your level of allowed affection in front of other people? I’m not trying to be difficult. I’ve never had the chance to navigate this before.”
He sets his hand over mine, forcing me to look at him. “I don’t think you’re being difficult. What do you want me to tell them?”
“When is the last time you brought a woman to meet your parents?”
“I dated Laila in high school and into my first year of college. After that, I haven’t.”
I shake my head. “That isn’t helpful, babe.”
“Babe, huh?”
“Trying it out. I’m not a fan.”
He grins and feeds me another bite of dessert before answering. “My family won’t press me to label us. They will see that I’m happy, and it’ll be all they need to know, for tomorrow anyway.”
“I am too. It’s been a long time, and it feels really good.”
“For me too.” He hands me both cups of coffee and sets the tray on the floor before retaking his.
“Who will I be meeting tomorrow?”
“I would prefer not to talk about that right now with you naked beside me.”
I set my empty cup on the bedside table, throw back the covers, and straddle Connor. “Fair enough.”
He finishes the last gulp of his coffee and sets his cup aside. “That gleam in your eye is hot.”
“Think we can do this my way this time?”
He hardens even more beneath me.
There’s no way he doesn’t realize I feel it happen. “Is that a yes?”
He laughs. “No, that’s a hell yes!”
I tuck my hand beneath the waistband of his boxer briefs and shimmy them down his legs. After dropping them to the floor, I grab another condom from the drawer, resettle into his lap with my hands on his chest, and brush my lips across his. The heat of our kisses skyrockets from hot to inferno expeditiously. Adding a bit of space, I roll the condom on, align us, and sink down over his shaft to the root. I lift and take him fully again.
“That feels—”
“Incredible,” he murmurs against my collarbone.
I continue engulfing his shaft while he sucks and nips my breasts. Gripping my hips, he meets me thrust for thrust. He moves one thumb and draws circles on my clit. My body shatters around him as I tumble over the edge into orgasmic bliss. Connor explodes inside me moments later. I lower myself on top of him. When our breathing returns to normal, I set my arms beneath my chin on his chest.
“That was—”
“Perfect.” He finishes my sentence as I lean forward, lightly grazing my lips across his.
“It has never felt like that before.”
“What do you mean, gorgeous?”
“I have never felt like that before, not even close. The first time, sure, it’s new and different, but for the second to be better is everything.”
“I don’t have words. It has never felt like that for me either.” He presses his lips to my forehead. A few minutes later, he moves to the bathroom to clean up. When he returns, I sidle close to him and promptly drift off to sleep.
Chapter Twenty Six
Connor
When I wake up the next morning, I’m alone in my bed. It’s surprising because we didn’t sleep much at all last night. After our second round, we both fell asleep. Later we went for a third and fourth round in quick succession near two this morning. Calliope Sutton has literally rocked my world. She embodies everything I ever wanted and more. No woman has ever taken care of me. It seems Calliope wants the job for the rest of my life. Regardless of the fast pace our relationship has taken, I’m in. All in with her.
I pad into my bathroom, pull on a shirt, and wash up. When I turn around, Calliope is standing at the threshold of the bedroom with a fresh cup of coffee.
“Morning. Happy birthday, Connor.”
I take the cup from her, set it aside, and draw her against me. “Morning.” I kiss her softly. “Thank you.”
“How long have you been up?”
She rises and kisses me again. “Not long. Where do you want to eat breakfast?”
“In the kitchen is fine. Am I allowed to leave this room?”
She smiles at me. “Yes, everything is set.”
I slide my free hand around hers, and we walk to the kitchen. The scents that wafted into my bedroom have nothing on how good my kitchen smells.
“How long did you say you’ve been up?”
“Not that long. This didn’t take too much time,” she assures me.
I wrinkle my nose. “I’m not sure I believe you.”
“I know it will be difficult for you, but can you let me take care of you today?”
“I’ll try.” It’s going to take effort, especially when everything in me wants to take care of her.
“Thank you.” She sets a huge breakfast plate in front of me. There’s a western omelet with ham, toast, corned beef hash, and bacon. A shared bowl of fresh fruit is between us.
“Did I tell you this is my favorite breakfast?”
“No, but I’ve been paying attention.” She leans over, pressing a kiss to my jawline. “What do you normally do on your birthday?”
“I visit Mara, h
ave dinner with my family, and then watch her favorite movie.”
We eat while we talk.
“That’s nice. Will you have time for all of that today? Is it safe to talk about the guest list for tonight now?”
I laugh. “Yes, she isn’t far. Sure. I already mentioned my mom, Joyce, is a social worker. Her focus is facilitating adoptions. To her, the foster system should simply be a very short-term option for any child.” I cover her hand with mine and squeeze. “My dad, Ed, teaches high school history. When we were younger, he coached Jake and me for football and baseball.”
“Football makes sense. I suppose baseball was something to do during the spring. I would have guessed hockey.”
I look over at her. How did she peg that? “I played hockey for fun in the off-season to stay in shape for football. You like hockey?”
“It was my dad’s favorite sport,” she mumbles.
“What was his favorite team?”
“The New Jersey Devils.”
“Interesting, it’s mine too. You don’t watch anymore, do you?”
She shakes her head. “Let’s not focus on me at all today.”
“That’s impossible.”
She swivels on the stool, one leg behind me and one against my thigh. I turn as well. Now our legs are staggered, and I rest my hands on the curve of her hips. Questions dance in her eyes.
“We are my sole focus.”
She’s speechless.
“I will determine who is behind the threats. Then I want to continue waking up with you every day.”
“You really are all that you seem.”
“I am, and so are you.” I lean forward and capture her mouth. I kiss her thoroughly until my doorbell rings. Reluctantly, I pull away to answer the door. I check the peephole and open the door. How does she know where I live?
“Hey, stranger!” She looks exactly as she did all those years ago. Her hair is still dark and short. She might be a little heavier, but it’s been over ten years since I saw her last. As far as I knew, she stayed on the West Coast.
“Hi, Laila. How did you get my address?”
“I had it for the Christmas cards.” An awkward silence stretches between us. “Sorry, this was a mistake. I should’ve called first.”
I nod slightly.
“I came to wish you a happy birthday and drop off your favorite breakfast. Next time I’ll call.”
“Thank you for stopping by and for the muffin.”
“Bye, Connor.” She bounds down the stairs.
I shake my head and return to the kitchen to find Calliope making fresh coffee. After verifying it is in fact a cranberry muffin, I drop it in the trash. It may have been correct at one time, but it isn’t anymore.
“Your high school girlfriend?”
“Yes.”
“Do you want me to reheat your food?”
“No, thank you.” I sit at the island and finish my breakfast. I appreciate that Calliope simply addressed the visit and let it go.
“Who else will be at dinner?”
I answer all her questions and give a brief introduction of Connie, Jill, and Cameron.
“Only five people? Piece of cake.”
I shake my head. “Maybe six. Nolan should be back from his assignment at some point today. He might stop by.”
“Sweet, now I can see what all the fuss is about.” She instantly covers her mouth.
“Now you have to share, beautiful.”
“I can’t. I’ve been sworn to secrecy. Girl code and all.”
“Right. Well, we already know about the brewing feelings between Maia and Nolan.”
“Fine, but we kind of encouraged Maia to share her feelings. She claims nothing has happened as of yesterday and Nolan isn’t aware of how she feels about him.”
“What you’re saying is you and Norah want everyone around you to be happy too?” I’m just as bad. I encouraged Jill yesterday.
“It sounds so much better when you put it that way.”
I laugh. “Let’s clean up and go for a ride.”
“I can stay here if you would prefer to go alone.”
Her words make my heart clench. “Truthfully, I wish she were here so you could meet her. My sister was my best friend and gave the best advice. I can do anything hard with you beside me.”
“Okay.”
We clean up from breakfast, dress, and walk out the door less than an hour later. After a quick stop at the town florist, we take a drive to Oakview. I pull along the curb directly behind the Blackthorne’s car—Jake’s parents, not Jake and Norah. I decide to wait until they’re walking back toward their car before getting out.
I round the truck, open Calliope’s door, and grab the flowers from the dash.
“Is that Jake’s mom with Ben?”
“Yes.” I link my hand with hers and walk toward them.
Ben must have told Connie about Calliope because she doesn’t seem shocked that she’s beside me, even here. “Morning, Connor. Callie.”
I hug them both. “Mr. B, Mrs. B. Nice to see you this morning. Callie, This is Connie, Jake’s mom. You already met Ben.” Connie is a petite, dark-haired woman, yet she commands attention.
Calliope extends her hand to the Blackthornes and both take it in turn. “Pleasure to meet you, Connie. Nice to see you again, Ben.” After she lowers it, she threads her fingers with mine again.
I don’t miss the look that passes between them. Everything they said without words is completely true. She’s different and will be part of my life, especially if I brought her here today.
“We won’t keep you. We’ll see you tonight. It was a pleasure meeting you, Callie,” Connie says.
“You as well.”
We walk toward Mara’s grave while they head to their car. My parents choose a simple stone for her. While I was an adult, I certainly wasn’t in the frame of mind to handle any details. I also wasn’t sure it was my place either. I can’t imagine how my parents made so many decisions. Jake couldn’t fathom handling the details. Propping Jake up was enough for me to handle. The only disagreement I remember is whether Michelson should be spelled out. In the end, they decided on Mara Michelson Blackthorne. I set the flowers on the top beside some other fresh bouquets. Someone other than Connie and Ben has been here today. The only thing I know for sure is it wasn’t Jake. He visits on the anniversary of her death.
Visiting a cemetery is a highly personal event. Some people talk to the deceased. I do too, but in my head.
I remember when you told me Jake was the one for you. You were so worried I would freak out. I wanted you to be the first to know, well second, Calliope is the one for me. I truly wish you were here. She’s a sassy powerhouse with the voice of an angel, has a wounded soul like mine, and she wants me. You would love her too. I’ve fallen head over heads for this woman beside me. I need to protect her and end the threat to her before I can make her mine permanently. I miss you, Mar. Love you. Happy birthday.
I exhale slowly and lift Calliope’s hand to my lips. When I turn to look down at her, I see my parents approaching from behind me.
“Morning, Mom and Dad.” My dad is tall with graying blond hair. My mom is tall for a woman and has salt-and-pepper hair and a bright, kind smile. She has the uncanny ability to connect with any child regardless of their tumultuous background.
“Morning, Connor,” they reply in unison.
“Callie, these are my parents, Ed and Joyce Michelson.”
I tighten my grip on her hand to slow the trembling and offer support as she extends the other to my parents. “Pleasure to meet you both.”
“You as well.”
The gravity of bringing Calliope here isn’t lost on me or my parents. I’m sure we’ll talk more about it tonight. “We will give you some space and see you for dinner later,” I suggest.
I hug them both tightly and lead Calliope back to my truck. After she settles into her seat, I round the hood and note my parents are watching us. I pull away slowly and remember today is
about me too.
“Are you okay?” I ask her.
“Me? I was going to ask you the same thing.”
I take her hand in mine. “It dawned on me that you don’t have a gravestone to visit. Have you been to the memorial or the museum?”
She shakes her head. “Will you accompany me when we’re in New York?”
“You made up your mind?”
“I think so. It can wait until tomorrow.”
“Now is fine, sweetheart. Truly. I’m proud of you.”
She sighs and intertwines our fingers on the center console. “Thank you. Would visiting the memorial be a big issue for you?”
“Me personally? No, I would be honored to stand beside you. For security purposes, I’ll find a way.”
She leans over and presses a kiss to my cheek.
“Did they give you a list of songs or can you choose whatever you want?”
“Honestly, I didn’t read that far. I’m confident I’ll be able to choose a song, or I won’t do it. I would still like to go, even if I don’t perform.”
“I’ll tell Jake you want to add New York either way.”
“Is it possible for me to sing as me and protect the fact that I’m Carys?”
“I don’t see why not. I’m sure Madeleine could have the organizer sign an agreement that he or she won’t disclose that they know you’re Carys.”
“Is it worth it?”
I turn to look at her. “Protecting your identity, your story?”
She drops her head. “Is it worth it? Does it even matter?”
“The answer depends on what your plan is for your career. If you decide to shift from pop music to sultry music like you were singing in my kitchen, you’ll definitely have to change your image. What I mean is everyone will see you as you are right now, every gorgeous blonde inch of you. You could stop performing as Carys altogether and start over as Callie. Another option would be to make a press release that you’re making changes to your brand and the type of music you want to sing and produce. I guess the final one would be to stop singing for an audience and only write.”
I pull into my driveway to find a huge bunch of colorful balloons on the stoop. Arm in arm we walk to the stoop, I grab the balloons, and we step inside.
