Coalescence

by J. C. Hannigan

  My balls tightened, pleasure surging through my veins, and I came at the same time she let out a breathless moan against my lips.

  Gwen

  After work on Friday, I tore through my wardrobe, looking for something to wear to Alaric’s for dinner. I’d be meeting his mom, and that sat heavily on the forefront of my mind.

  Every outfit I chose was too…something. Too tight, too revealing, too patterned, too plain.

  “Relax, Gwen.” Kelsey rolled her eyes, turning so that she laid on her stomach on my bed, watching me with a bored expression while I rooted through my closet like a maniac. “You’re overthinking this.”

  “Of course I’m overthinking this, I’m about to meet his mom!”

  “Yes, you’re about to meet his mom, who probably loves him and just wants to see him happy. Since you’re the one making him very happy, I’m sure she’ll like you.”

  I pursed my lips and folded my arms, not overly confident. Things were going too smoothly for me to truly believe I couldn’t mess up this particular step.

  Kelsey sighed, standing up and crossing over to my dresser. She rooted through a few drawers and pulled out a pair of torn jean capris. Tossing them at my face and knocking my glasses askew. Then she moved to my closet and found a loose-fitting plum t-shirt, throwing that at me too. This time, I caught it.

  “Casual is always in style.” She arched a brow. “Wear your brown ankle boots, and you’ll be all set.”

  “Fine,” I sighed, resolved to go along with what my sister recommended. At least it took away the pressure of actually having to think. I changed quickly, pulling the denim over my hips. My stomach was rolling with nervousness.

  “It’s going to be fine,” Kelsey assured me, putting her hands on my shoulders and squeezing.

  “I do not remember being this nervous to meet Erik’s parents,” I muttered, scowling at my reflection critically, wondering exactly what Alaric’s mom would see when she looked at me.

  “Filler love,” Kelsey reminded me, bumping her hip against mine. “It’s like when you’re in high school, and they make you take that careers course and do those fake interviews? You always nail them, because you don’t care. It’s just school, right?”

  “Ugh, you’re so right. Remember that group interview at the video store?” I shuddered, the memory of it still enough to make me break out into a cold, mortifying sweat.

  “Yeah, I still can’t believe you used the iconic Snakes on a Plane line for your movie quote.” She chortled. My sister had been at that interview too, so she’d witnessed the whole thing.

  She’d quoted Bring It On and got the job. I’d quoted Sammy boy and got slack jaws of astonishment from all—myself included.

  “Great, now I’m even more nervous.” I scowled. My mouth tended to get me into a lot of trouble when I felt jittery, and right now, I felt every bit as jittery as that day I did my best Samuel L Jackson impression—f-bombs and all—in front of two managers and ten other interviewees.

  I didn’t even like that movie, but I blurted the line out anyway.

  Good times.

  “Look at it this way, you can’t do much worse than that interview.” She grinned, picking up her purse from my bed. “Text me and let me know how it goes. I need to go home and sit on Elliot’s face or something.”

  “Ew.” I laughed. Shaking my head, I headed to my closet, my eyes quickly landing on the brown ankle boots. I snatched them, following Kelsey into the living room, tugging them on as I went. “Well, you have fun with that.”

  “Leave the Sammy quotes at home, okay?” Kelsey joked as she waited beside me in the hallway while I locked up.

  22

  End Piece

  Alaric

  “So, tell me a little about her. What’s she like?” Mom asked, turning on the tap to wash the lettuce. She glanced up at me, flashing me a knowing smile.

  My mother was naturally intuitive, and I was never able to hide things from her. Before I even had a chance to tell her about Gwen myself, she sensed something was different in me.

  Then Sawyer flew down the porch steps, loudly declaring that I had a girlfriend and she was coming for dinner before Mom had even gotten out of her vehicle.

  “She’ll be here soon,“ I pointed out, arching a brow. Mom gave me a look, one that I knew meant I wouldn’t be getting out of it so easily. I smiled, shook my head, and continued rubbing the dry herb on the steaks. ”She’s funny, beautiful, smart, and talented. She’s writing a book.”

  “Really?” Mom smiled, her eyes softening while I spoke about her. “How did you meet?”

  “At a bar. I was watching my realtor’s band play a gig, and she was there.” I told her, washing my hands.

  Tig let out a rumbling bark to let us know someone had pulled into the driveway. I dried my hands on a towel and tossed it onto the counter.

  “She’s here!“ Sawyer shouted with excitement, racing past me down the hall with her braids flapping behind her. She opened the door and flew onto the front porch. I followed behind her, shaking my head and chuckling at my daughter’s exuberance.

  Gwen stepped out of the car, tucking a bottle of wine beneath her arm. Her brown boots crunched against the gravel, and she wore her dark hair in long waves down her back. She looked refreshing and gorgeous, and I couldn’t help but press a tender kiss to her lips when Sawyer’s back was turned.

  “Come meet Grandma!” Sawyer exclaimed, grabbing Gwen’s free hand and tugging on it, leading her the rest of the way inside.

  Tig was occupying a lot of space in front of the door, his tail wagging happily. He licked at Sawyer’s face when she passed, and she let out a giggle, dropping Gwen’s hand to push Tig’s face away.

  “Hi. You must be Gwen. I’ve heard a lot about you,” Mom said, smiling warmly and extending her hand. Gwen took it, shaking it with a shy smile.

  “Hi. It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Petersen.”

  “Please, call me Barb.” Mom laughed. “Oh, is that wine?”

  “Sure is.” Gwen nodded, holding the bottle out to her. After grilling me needlessly, I’d told Gwen what her favourite wine was.

  “You’ll have to have a glass with me,” Mom said as four of us—and Tig—headed back to the kitchen.

  I took Gwen’s hand and tugged her back to me. She caught herself, hands splaying against my chest. “You look beautiful,” I told her, loving the colour that stained her cheeks.

  “Thanks,” she murmured, her eyes dropping to my chest and lower before she stepped back, giving herself distance we both seemed to need. If she continued looking at me that way, I’d have a hard time keeping my hands to myself. Already, I was struggling.

  “Big glass or a little glass?” my mom called out, effectively dousing the moment.

  “A little glass is fine,” Gwen replied as we moved into the kitchen. My hand brushed against hers as I passed, rounding the counter. “Can I help with anything?” She watched as I picked up the plate of steak and the tray of tin foil wrapped potatoes.

  “Everything’s done except for the stuff that needs to go on the barbeque grill,” I told her as I paused beside her on my trek to the back door.

  “Let’s go sit down and get to know one another,” Mom suggested.

  Gwen looked from Mom to me and relaxed when I gave her a reassuring smile. Balancing the plate on my arm, I opened the door and stepped onto the deck.

  Gwen

  Alaric’s mom—Barb—smiled brightly at me as she carried the salad bowl to the dining room table.

  I took a fortifying breath, hanging on to the heartened feeling Alaric’s smile had brought.

  “Gwen! Look! I put a picture in my frame!” Sawyer said, jumping off the bottom step and flying into the kitchen to show me.

  I took it from her and looked at the photo inside the frame. Sawyer was holding her tiny newborn sister in her arms. The breathing apparatus over the baby’s small features made it kind of difficult to see the baby’s face, but the look of pure love on Sawyer
’s face was too much.

  “Aw, what a beautiful picture,” I said, gently passing the frame back to her. Sawyer nodded proudly.

  “Her name is Olivia,” Sawyer told me. “Daddy says she looks just like me!”

  “Let’s have a look,” Barb bent forward and peeked over Sawyer’s shoulder. “Aw, she sure does! I can see it. You make sure you give your mama a hug from me, okay?”

  “I will.” Sawyer nodded.

  “Now, go put the frame back in your room and wash up for dinner, okay?” Barb added, ruffling her head. Sawyer nodded again, pivoting and racing for the stairs. “Slowly!”

  “Okay!” Sawyer called back, slowing her movements a fraction.

  Barb smiled after her, then turned to look at me. “My son tells me you guys met at a bar,” she said, with an amused twinkle in her hazel eyes.

  “Oh, yeah.” I laughed awkwardly, swishing the wine around in my glass carefully before taking a long sip. “I, uh, don’t usually do the whole bar thing. But my sister dragged me out for a girl’s night, and then she ditched me there…and Alaric, being the gentleman that he is, offered me a lift home.”

  I bit my tongue to stop the onslaught of words from spilling out. I always talked too much when I was nervous. My eyes frantically went to the mudroom, where I could see Alaric through the window of the door, still grilling. With no hope of rescue there, I turned back to Barb and forced a nervous smile.

  She topped up my wine, her eyes twinkling with amusement. “I remember the first time I met Alaric’s dad’s parents. I was so nervous! Parents can be downright intimidating, but you don’t have to worry about me.”

  I laughed a little, relaxing.

  She winked, topping up her own glass. She eyed me reflectively, her smile never losing its warmth. “Alaric told me that you’re writing a book.”

  “Ha, yeah.” I flushed crimson, deeply embarrassed. I felt foolish admitting my little side-project out loud, let alone to a near stranger that just so happened to mean a lot to the guy I’d gone and fallen head over heels for.

  “What’s it about? I love reading—I’m in a book club with some girlfriends back home,” she told me, strategically revealing bits about herself, likely to ease my anxiety. I smiled, appreciating her effort.

  “It’s a sci-fi dystopian romance novel,” I replied, taking another large sip of wine.

  “That sounds intriguing.” Barb’s eyebrows rose, and she grinned.

  “Okay! My hands are clean!” Sawyer called out, taking the steps slower this time and holding on to the railing.

  The back door opened, and Alaric walked through, balancing the plate of cooked steaks in one hand and the tray of potatoes in the other. He closed the door with his foot and brought the food to the counter, sending me a beholden glance as he passed by.

  “How hungry are you?” he asked Sawyer, who stood on her tippy-toes beside him, trying to see onto the counter.

  “Super hungry!” she declared. Alaric sent her a smile that made my internal organs—especially the baby-making ones—melt.

  He grabbed one of the smaller steaks and put it on a plate, cutting it into tiny, manageable pieces.

  “Need another top up?”

  “Hmm?” I asked, tearing my eyes away from the tendons working in Alaric’s forearms.

  Barb sent me an insightful smile, nodding to my now empty glass. “Do you need another top up?”

  “No, thank you. I think I’m going to switch to water now.” I flushed, setting the glass on the counter. I was already feeling a buzz. Alaric opened the refrigerator and handed me a bottle of water, the pads of his fingers connecting with mine.

  By the end of the night, I’d completely relaxed around Alaric’s mom and had even let her talk me into another glass of wine when Alaric went upstairs to tuck Sawyer in.

  We’d moved our little party to the living room, and Barb was happily regaling me with stories of Alaric’s childhood.

  “He’s been welding since he was old enough to hold a stinger.” She grinned, pausing to take a sip of wine. “He used to hang out in his dad’s shop all the time.”

  “I can see that.” I laughed, setting my glass on the end table beside me, one that I knew Alaric had made himself. “He even welds in his spare time.”

  “He’s a lot like his father was, in that respect,” Barb remarked, her eyes a little wistful. “Idle hands drove that man crazy. He could never sit still, always had to be doing something.”

  “I’ve noticed that about him.” I nodded solemnly. There was a certain way people spoke when they talked about a loved one who had passed on, and I heard that in Barb’s voice. The love was still there, the sadness, but also…a fondness, as if the memory brought comfort instead of pain.

  “I’m delighted you came into my son’s life. You’ve awakened him, breathed essence back into his existence.” She smiled at me with warmth.

  “I’m not sure what you mean,” I said, feeling a little wobbly.

  “Since Sawyer’s birth, Alaric has lived for her. She’s his light, and when Cheryl left him, the thing that wounded him most was losing time with his little girl. His light dimmed, save for those precious weekends with her. For the last several years, he’s thrown himself into work and projects and kept everyone else but that little girl at a distance. You’ve opened him up again, given him a reason to take a chance. Thank you for that.”

  I swallowed, my eyes misting from Barb’s poignant words. “Well, he woke me up, too,” I admitted, biting down on my bottom lip.

  Barb’s hand reached over to take mine, her fingers squeezing gently before she released. “Love wakes us all up,” she said wisely, capping her words with a wink.

  “It does,” I laughed lightly, turning when Alaric walked into the room.

  “Is Sawyer asleep?” Barb asked. He nodded, and she smiled. “Why don’t you two head out for a bit. I’ll hold down the fort.”

  “I should really get going,” I replied, standing. I felt emotional following the raw conversation with his mom, and I knew from experience he’d want to stay close to Sawyer.

  “How many glasses of wine have you had?” Alaric asked, tilting his head with a subtle smile.

  I glanced down at my empty glass. “Oh, um. Probably more than the legal limit, but you can thank your mom for that. She’s really good at topping up the glass without drawing attention to the fact that she’s topping up the glass.”

  Alaric chuckled, shaking his head. “Don’t I know it. All right, I’ll give you a lift home.”

  “On your motorcycle?” I asked, perking right up. I was tipsier than I originally thought.

  “Sure.” Alaric smiled, and I grinned in response.

  “It was really nice meeting you,” I said, turning to Barb and shaking her hand. “Thank you for all the wine—and for not being terrifyingly mean.”

  Barb laughed with delight. “I’m sure we’ll be seeing each other again soon. Take your time, Alaric. Sawyer’s safe with me.”

  “I know. Thanks, Mom,” Alaric said, pausing to kiss her briefly on the cheek. “See you in the morning.”

  He took my hand and led me out of the living room. I waved at Barb over my shoulder before following him to the garage. He released my hand long enough to open the garage door and grab a helmet, tugging it onto my head.

  Brushing my hair out of my face, he gave me a look loaded with significance before he reached around to slap my ass playfully. “Ready?”

  “Ready!” I couldn’t help feeling giddy. It was due to the mixture of wine, good feelings, and the prospect of a motorcycle ride.

  Alaric’s grin widened, and he crossed over to his bike. He swung his leg over it, straddling the bike between his powerful thighs, and beckoned with his hand for me to join him.

  Gleefully, I climbed on behind him, my hands settling against his abs. The bike roared to life, the headlight coming on and pointing down his driveway.

  He maneuvered it out of the garage, down the driveway and to the road.

&nb
sp; I rested my head against his back, appreciating it all—the security I felt with him, even on the rear of a two-wheeled vehicle, speeding down an empty country road, was something I never had before, not even with Erik.

  Comfort, companionship, contentment—maybe. But not this all-consuming love that lit me up from the inside out.

  We were pulling up to the curb in front of my building all too soon, and I let out a little mewl of protest when he shut the bike off. Alaric chuckled, helping me climb off the back before swinging his leg over and joining me on the sidewalk.

  He took my hand, and we walked up to the building, trading glances. He didn’t seem able to pry his eyes off me, either.

  We walked silently up the stairs, pausing in front of my door so I could unlock it before dragging him in behind me.

  Once inside, he pulled me against him, kissing me deeply, and letting go of all the restraint he held on to during our G-rated dinner at his place. The pent-up sexual energy was off the charts, and I moaned, my pelvis grating against him.

  Alaric picked me up, cupping my ass in his large hands, and carried me down the hall to my bedroom. Dahmer let out an angry hiss, flying off the bed and out of the room.

  I paused to laugh—and to draw in a revitalizing breath, my eyes finding his in the dark.

  He cupped my chin, gently guiding it so I’d look directly into his bright blue eyes, illuminated by the light from the streetlamp outside my bedroom window.

  “It took me eight weeks to realize I’m irrevocably in love with you, Gwen, and have been since the moment I laid eyes on you.”

  My throat closed, emotion clogging it; my heart bursting. “I’ve fallen in love with you too,” I admitted, my eyes misting a little.

  Alaric smiled, lifting his hand to cup the side of my face. He leaned forward, pressing his lips to mine, kissing me slowly while his hands moved over my body reverently.