Break Point

by Rachel Blaufeld

  “Yeah?” I grabbed the spoon from the bowl and licked it.

  “Drew, don’t.”

  “Don’t tell me don’t. Tell me about the cookies.”

  “She asked me if I would cater a dinner for her. A vegetarian Mexican night, complete with desserts. Queso and quesadillas with grilled vegetables and dips, and a few bean dishes. I got so excited over the prospect of it. Apparently, there are so many vegetarians and vegans down here, it’s not PC to serve meat.” Jules was so excited, she was practically dancing in place.

  “Really?”

  “I think I’m going to do it. If it goes well, I could start a vegetarian catering company. I could do that; I know food service. It’s all I know.”

  “Babe, I like the way it sounds. You know a hell of a lot more than food service, but you definitely need a commercial kitchen. When you cook at home like this, I get all kinds of dirty thoughts. And I don’t think that’s good for business.”

  “Well, this woman asked me to cook in her kitchen, which is great, but yeah, I need a space. I’d have to take a loan from you, but my goal would be to pay you back.”

  I shouldn’t be mad, because the fact she even considered taking a loan from me was progress. Still, it bugged me.

  “Jules, it’s not a loan. It’s ours, and I say go for it.”

  “But I want to, and the cool thing is if I get big, then I could hire some staff, treat them right. I’d want to take care of people. Women. Single moms.”

  “No buts, and that’s beautiful. I don’t doubt you’ll get big.” Then I shut her up real quick with my tongue in my mouth and my hand on her ass. “But you’re never paying me back,” I mumbled into her mouth.

  She didn’t have time to respond because I gripped her from behind and slid her onto the white quartz counter. Good thing it was a mess, because we were going to make it messier.

  Jules’s hands went up the back of my T-shirt as I fumbled with her apron. I untied the flimsy piece of fabric and tossed it aside. Breaking free from her lips, I pulled my shirt overhead and yanked Jules’s leggings over her bare feet, then her thong. After shoving her tank and bra to the side, I found her nipple and sucked until she squirmed.

  I traced a finger over her top until it came to the top of her landing strip. When I spent a minute too long teasing her nub, she moaned, “Please,” so I slipped in one finger, and then two. Her sticky fingers traced my waist.

  “Love this,” she whispered, and ran a fingernail around the outline of my newest tattoo.

  A turtle, as requested by my daughter.

  It wasn’t nearly as badass as my scorpion, but it meant everything. The tortoise was slow, like our love. Jules and I were a slow-burning torch, one that never would fully extinguish. Of course, on the turtle’s shell was the name Darla, because she was our protector in all of this, the hard casing that kept us together.

  At some point, I couldn’t think about the turtle anymore because Jules was riding my fingers and getting herself there, and I wanted to be a more active participant. Dropping to my knees—fuck the bad one—I put my mouth on her. It was my favorite meal.

  It didn’t take long for me to get her off. She came apart with a delicious moan, my name rolling off her tongue in that way that always made me hard. Afterward, I stayed the course, riding out her waves until Jules tugged on my hair.

  Yep, it was long enough to do that now. I’d let it grow back out.

  She yanked me up and sealed her mouth over mine, not one bit bashful about her taste all over my face and lips. Her delicate fingers tugged at my zipper and pushed my jeans over my ass. Lucky for her, I was commando. As usual.

  “You can’t walk around here with no boxers . . . I keep telling you,” she grumbled. But I knew she liked it.

  “I’m usually wearing pants.”

  Her hand wrapped as much as it could around me and started working me hard.

  Fuck it, I couldn’t wait. I pushed her back onto the counter, bowls flying and spoons landing next to her face, and shoved inside. I took a moment after I was fully seated to revel in my life. It was love all, or whatever you wanted to call it. Cat’s game, a tie. Jules and I had both won. We had each other and our daughter.

  And this—me deep inside her, no barriers except that she was on the pill. I had to convince her to marry me first, then babies.

  One thing at a time, I reminded myself. It was like she was the teacher, and I was the student. She taught me well, so I had to go with her cues.

  “Come on, King Drew.”

  She nudged my ass with her foot, and I started moving. I took her in long, leisurely strokes, my movements slow and seductive, until neither of us could take it anymore. Then I took her hard and fast, my thumb strumming her spot and the heel of her foot kneading my ass until we both exploded in climax.

  “Babe, I don’t think you’re going to be able to cater anything out of this kitchen. Ever. Seeing you in that apron does something to me, and we’re violating every health code in the book.”

  Jules

  Dinner was ready. I paced the kitchen while Drew went to the airport to pick up his mother. Luckily, my mom was being civil to both Drew and me—not loving, but tolerant—and was reading to Darla in the other room. Knowing Darla, she was probably reading to my mom. She wasn’t one to sit around and listen to someone else. She was a take-charge person like her dad.

  It was the night before Thanksgiving, and I’d made beef Wellington and eggplant parmesan. No way was I serving Drew’s hot-blooded Southern mom only vegetables. I’d perfected my puff pastry the week before, and tried not to breathe while stuffing the slab of raw meat inside it.

  The house smelled delicious, thanks to the apple-spice candles burning in the living room and the fruit cobbler in the oven. I smoothed my sweater and rolled my sore foot a little. It still ached from too much use, but hey, I needed to be mobile in order to cook.

  “Mom!” Darla came running into the kitchen. “They’re here.”

  I silently prayed she wasn’t getting her hopes up over nothing.

  “Why don’t I fill the water glasses,” my mom called, mostly wanting to avoid the introductions, I was sure.

  I went to open the front door and saw Drew walking a step behind his mom, who had a huge bouffant head of blond hair and a face pulled so tight, her hairline was in the middle of her head. Biting the inside of my cheek, I kept myself from laughing. She was exactly as he’d described her.

  She held her hand out to me. “Sharlene King Hagman.”

  Every finger was heavy with jewels; her wrist must have weighed more than Darla. Rows and rows of diamond tennis bracelets adorned her arm, interspersed with heavy bangles. I wasn’t sure how she lugged it all around.

  “Jules Smith.”

  “Soon to be King,” Drew added.

  “No rush,” his mother said under her breath, then looked down at her granddaughter. “You must be Darla. You look just like your daddy, lucky girl.”

  Thankfully, Darla kept quiet. Even she was unsure of what to make of that remark.

  “I’m Grandma Shar,” Sharlene said, bending down.

  “Nice to meet you,” Darla finally responded, standing on her tiptoes to give Sharlene a kiss on the cheek.

  “Don’t you think this place is all wrong for a family, Drew?” She lifted her big sunglasses on top of her head as we made our way into the foyer. “All white and sharp edges. It’s much more suiting to a bachelor. You probably miss that life. Not to mention, there’s stuff everywhere. Ooh.” She jumped to the side as Calliope brushed past her leg. “What in the heck?”

  “That’s Calliope, my kitty, and I also have a turtle. Want to see?”

  “Perhaps later. This place is like walking onto a live set of a children’s program.”

  “I love this house,” Darla said, jumping from foot to foot. “Did you know we have an elevator in the back now? They’re still building it, but it’s going to connect the new room with the middle of the house and then the patio.”
>
  “How lovely. Expanding the brood, are we?” Sharlene eyed my flat stomach.

  “No, Mom. I added on a third-floor gym. I didn’t like leaving every morning to go to the gym, and then I miss Dar leaving for school.”

  “Oh. I never minded not seeing you in the morning. Then again, I needed my beauty sleep.”

  She just kept steamrolling through the house, nitpicking. We needed a yard if we were going to be real parents, or maybe Darla would go to boarding school. “I’m a fan,” she said.

  Sharlene clearly had no patience for the lesser folk, which definitely included my mom and me. When meeting my mom, she barely muttered, “Hello there,” looking down on my Midwestern mama, who wouldn’t win any mother-of-the-year awards. But still, she was mine.

  That’s pretty much how the evening went. Sharlene picked on me, a little bit on Drew, ignored my mom, and treated Darla like a doll.

  “Oh, look. She’s so precious with her food all cut up. Who will do that for her at school?”

  “Mom, we’re not sending Darla to school. She goes to school here, and maybe next year, she’ll go to private school.”

  That remark earned him a dirty look from me. He’d been on me about that, and I disagreed.

  “Sharlene, what will you be doing while you’re here?” my mom asked, trying to break the ice. I was pretty sure she felt bad for Darla.

  “Oh, well, the spa is lovely, and I was hoping Drew would come and make use of the tennis facilities.”

  Drew piped up. “Darla plays. I’ll bring her over.” Darla, of course, loved this idea. “And you too, Jules. Time to try on that foot again.”

  “Don’t force her.” This came from Sharlene.

  “You know what? This is my family, Mom. Jules is not going anywhere, and neither is Darla. Not school, nowhere. So, shut it.”

  After that, Sharlene was mostly curt, politely saying no thank you to dessert. The minute dinner was over, she asked Drew to take her back to the hotel.

  Tomorrow was surely going to be an interesting Thanksgiving. With a caterer.

  I was already dreading Christmas.

  Jesus, I was trying to be a caterer and Drew hired someone else. I vowed to myself the holidays would never be like this again. Next year, I’d ask Drew to cough up some money and we would go away. It was worth it.

  At the end of the weekend, we flopped on top of the bedcovers and lay tangled together, Drew’s fingers running up and down my arm.

  “It wasn’t so bad,” I whispered, lying.

  “Jules, don’t bullshit me.” He pinched my skin, teasing me, taunting me.

  “It was bad. Your mom basically hates me, and my mom . . . at least she loves Darla.”

  “My mom wants her to go far, far away.”

  “Like to the moon.” I laughed out loud.

  “Darla can stay under this roof until she’s forty, for all I care.” Drew pulled me up so we were face-to-face.

  “Somehow, I don’t think she’ll like that plan.”

  “I like it. A lot.” He ran his nose along mine. “A whole lot. That’s my girl.”

  “Right now, I like you,” I mumbled, pressing my lips to his.

  “You do now?”

  He kissed me with the passion of three men, our tongues meeting and twisting, like our legs. I felt my heat rub against his thigh, and I moaned.

  “Touch me.” I was desperate, hot and bothered for King, the man of my dreams. “Pinch me again.”

  “What?” He pulled back and looked at me, his brow furrowed, his eyes questioning me.

  “I have to know this is real.”

  “It’s real, babe. You, me, Darla, the fairy tale.”

  “I can’t believe it. I just can’t.”

  He kissed me again, stronger than before, headier than earlier. I didn’t need any words. I believed.

  I shoved down Drew’s shorts, giving myself easy access to his commando ass. I nudged him closer so his hardness ran along my wetness. My panties were soaked, and he didn’t waste any time tugging off my oversized T-shirt. His mouth latched onto my nipple, sucking hard and eliciting a long moan from me.

  Next came my panties, tossed to the floor, and he was in me. My back to the mattress, his frame hovering over me, taking his damn sweet time moving in and out of me.

  I thought about telling him my secret, but I didn’t. I decided to enjoy this moment, revel in my belief and my man. There was no way he’d be mad about my little lie of omission. It wasn’t exactly like keeping Darla from him for years. He’d be thrilled to learn I’d stopped taking the pill two weeks before, and I was waiting for just the right time to admit it.

  Drew moaned my name in my ear and whispered, “Love you, babe. Since the moment I sat at your kitchen table, in awe of how strong you were.”

  At that moment, I decided to wait. He didn’t need to know until I could tell him even better news.

  Drew

  “Daddy, look!” Darla’s hand stretched to the left of the kayak, almost tipping her slim body into the Pacific.

  “Whoa,” I said, slowing my oar. “I see it, superstar.”

  “Look at it!”

  A giant turtle swam just below the surface, and a school of fish darted about a bit deeper.

  “Let’s get out!” She tried to stand up in the kayak.

  “One sec. Let’s drop the anchor.” I grabbed the weight from behind me and tossed it into the ocean, ensuring the kayak would remain nearby.

  In our tiny wake, the fish and turtle moved quickly along the ocean floor, disappearing from view.

  “Aw . . .”

  “They’ll be back, and there’ll be more, baby girl.”

  “Yay! Can we go in the water?”

  “First, we need our flippers.”

  Carefully, Darla slipped her feet into small flippers and I shoved mine into larger ones, making sure we didn’t fall out of the kayak in the process.

  “Okay, now your snorkel and goggles.”

  “Ouch,” she said sliding the apparatus over her face. Loose hairs stuck to her cheek and wound their way in front of her goggles.

  “I gotta say, you should’ve let Mom put your hair back in a neat bun.”

  “I’m fine. Let’s go!”

  “Ready, Freddy?”

  “Ready, Heddy!”

  “Go ahead.”

  I held her hand while she tossed her legs over the side and flopped into the water. The Hawaiian sun reflected off her bright yellow swim shirt.

  “Come on,” my daughter said, beckoning me.

  She didn’t have to ask twice.

  I slid into the water and kicked until I was next to Darla. We floated for a minute, and then she took my hand and we swam around a bit. With our faces pressed into the water, the ocean came to life. Schools of fish, octopus, and turtles streaked by, the reason we were out kayaking in the Pacific.

  Her small hand tugged on mine, and I turned to see her free hand point to the right. An entire turtle family swam right in front of us.

  Sending Darla to private school had been the right choice, even though Jules fought me on it. Darla was incredibly smart, especially in the sciences. She loved sea life, and the teachers took care to make sure she had her fill at school. It wasn’t a boarding school. My girl still spent every night at home.

  Her school also happened to house Florida’s top tennis program.

  I rose to the surface, treading water as I watched Darla swim around, confirming what I already knew. There was no reason for my daughter not to have every advantage.

  Of course, Hawaii had been her idea for our honeymoon after Jules agreed to do the deed. We’d gone to the justice of the peace at the city-county building one December afternoon when Darla finished school. My mom had proven to have zero interest in me, and Darla’s mom was her mom. She picked what she wanted to get involved with. This wasn’t high on her list.

  After a quick civil ceremony, Sully and Rosie had taken us to Abba to celebrate. Over dinner where I first recaptured Jules, Rosi
e had asked if we were going on a honeymoon, and Darla piped right up.

  “We should go to Hawaii.”

  Jules gave me a look that said I know there’s no way you’re not taking her with us now.

  I’d missed six years of her life. Of course I said yes.

  We planned it the next day, and here we were. Christmas in Hawaii with my girls.

  “You tired? Want to paddle back to shore and get a smoothie?” I asked Darla when she popped back above water. “We can come back out tomorrow morning.”

  “We should bring Mom.”

  “Want to know a little secret?” I dragged her near, holding her wet body up and close to my face. I kissed her nose and whispered, “I kind of like it being just you and me.”

  “Me too.”

  “We won’t tell Mom. Plus, she needs her beauty sleep to beat me in tennis later.”

  Jules loved watching us play. She’d pull a chair by the net and call out the score.

  Darla didn’t know it wouldn’t be for much longer, or that Jules really needed her beauty sleep for the baby growing inside her.

  Darla giggled as I hoisted her back into the kayak. “I’m going to get a pineapple-banana smoothie. How ’bout you, Dad?”

  I climbed in, then picked up the paddle and turned us back toward shore. “Sounds good to me. Can we share?”

  “Nope.”

  “Hey, Darla?”

  “Yeah, Daddy?”

  “Remember the first time I bought you a strawberry smoothie at Rocky Brook?”

  She nodded. “After my first lesson with you.”

  “I loved you then as much as I love you now. I fell for you in an instant.”

  “Me too. I wished that day to have you as my daddy.”

  Those words were even more spectacular than the killer whale cresting on the horizon.

  Later that night, with Darla out cold and tucked into her bed, the ocean air doing its magic, I brought Jules a sparkling water with lemon. We had a suite with two rooms despite Jules arguing over it. I wanted her to get rest, and I wanted to service her. This pregnancy had made her horny as fuck.

  Considering I missed the whole shebang with Darla, my plan was to attend to every detail of this one. Especially the horny part.