VEGAS follows you home

by Sadie Grubor

  While Felicity's offer of escape is tempting, I knew he would only follow me wherever I went. And when I tell Felicity about Damon Senior's behavior with his wife, the conversation turns into a feminist rant, which only ends because Damon announces dinner is finished.

  Damon made spaghetti, meat sauce, and salad, which tastes amazing. His ability to cook a meal both surprises and impresses me.

  After dinner, he plays with Alex and helps to bathe and dress him for bed. While Alex had been shockingly easy to put down the night before, tonight he’s giving me some trouble. I end up sitting in a rocking chair with him until he calms, and then stay in the chair after lying him down, just to be safe. It isn't until Damon lifts me from the chair that I realize I’d fallen asleep.

  "I should stay with him tonight," I yawn.

  "He will be fine," Damon argues, cradling me closer to his body.

  "What if he wakes up and—"

  "Then we will go to him." Damon sits me on the bed.

  After taking a moment to orient myself, I grab some pajamas from a bag and go to the bathroom to change.

  Mid tooth brushing, Damon walks in wearing only boxer briefs. In the large, full-wall mirror behind the sink, I can see how the cotton caresses his toned body. Amidst my ogling, Damon drops the briefs to the floor, giving me full viewing access to his sculpted back and ass.

  Before climbing into the shower, he glances toward me. Our eyes meet in the mirror and he grins.

  I quickly look away, spit the minty foam from my mouth, toss my toothbrush on the counter, and exit the room as fast as possible. One more moment with him in the confines of the bathroom and I would be a soaking wet mess. And not just because of the urge to get in the shower with him.

  Wrapped in the highest thread count sheets I've ever experienced, I’m about to drift off when the bed dips next to me. The smell of his freshly washed skin surrounds me, causing me to bite back a moan. The realization of how much he’s affecting me and how much I am enjoying his scent has my eyes blinking open. His eyes are looking into mine as he grins, knowingly.

  I curse my decision to lie facing away from the bathroom door, furrow my brow, and roll away from him.

  His arm drapes over my side and his chest presses tightly to my back. My muscles lock up tightly.

  "Relax," he whispers.

  The scent of his fresh, minty breath crosses my cheek. I lick my lips because they are dry, not because I want to taste his whisper.

  "I think we should discuss Rebecca and DJ," I state firmly, not giving away my nervousness.

  It's his turn to stiffen. "Why?"

  "You know why," I answer.

  With a loud sigh, he rolls away from me.

  "What did my meddling brother tell you?"

  Rolling to my back, I try to summarize as much as possible, but end up giving him everything Scarlett and Hugh discussed.

  "Damon, we are not a cure for your pain and loss." I stare at the ceiling after the words leave my lips.

  "I know that, Olivia," he barks, but then his tone softens. "You make me feel better. I can't deny that, but there is so much more to all of this. More than I realized would be involved when I came looking for you."

  "Why would you look for us? You had to know it would cause problems. What if I'd been married or had more children? What if I'd lost—?"

  "There are a lot of what ifs, but I needed it. I know it's hard for you to understand, because you don't know what it's like to lose everything and feel so empty. It's as if a piece of you is carved out and nothing can fill it. It's just a bottomless pit."

  I lock my jaw tight and will myself not to think about Isaac or his baby. Damon would be surprised if knew just how closely I could relate. A part of me wanted to sympathize with him, but the selfish part didn't want to share our common bond in sorrow and loss.

  "Then this letter appears and there is confirmation that I may have a child out there in the world. There is a part of me, living and breathing, but I don't know what they look like, what their name is, if they are well. How could I not try to find you?"

  He takes a deep breath before continuing.

  "You think I'm using you both as a replacement. I understand why you think that, but it's not true. Not anymore."

  Damon pauses and I open my mouth to speak, but he continues.

  "At first, I was being selfish. I wanted to feel like a whole person again. I wanted to get back what I lost and fix all the mistakes I made. So, when I started looking for you and Alex…for anyone who conceived my child, it was in hopes to make me human once more — to feel alive."

  He shifts, rolling onto his side. Bending his arm at the elbow, he props his head on his fist.

  "I died with them in that car, but felt resurrected the moment I saw him." Damon's eyes blaze with intensity. The fingers of his left hand start a slow trace over my cheek and jaw. "And then, there was you. You were unexpected."

  Furrowing my brow, I ask, "What do you mean?"

  "The moment we were together in Vegas, the connection began. I know you feel it. I'm not blind."

  I try to look away from him, but his hand turns my face back.

  "How much I want you scares me and fills me with so much guilt."

  "Guilt?" I whisper.

  With our eyes locked on each other's, he nods.

  "I never wanted Rebecca the way I want you."

  I open my mouth to object, but he doesn't let me.

  "I loved her, but I didn't know I could feel like this with someone — the way I feel with you. Pieces that were missing between Rebecca and I, things we couldn't quite do for each other, are not an issue with you. You are absolute, everything I never knew I needed, even when I knew I needed Alex."

  Frozen silent with my lips parted and held hostage by his gaze, I can't process what he’s saying. The moment his lips press to mine, the undeniable connection sizzles. The one I deny on a daily basis.

  Terrified by both the physical and emotional feelings, I pull my lips away and turn my head.

  His hand cups my neck as he rests his forehead on my left shoulder. No other words are said and neither of us moves. And when his breathing evens, I know he is asleep. It takes me much longer to fall asleep with the feeling of his body against mine, the words he just spoke circling in my head, and the lingering sizzle he left on my lips.

  "Momma!" Alex wakes me with a shout.

  I try to stretch, but Damon's body restricts the action.

  "Momma!"

  "Damon," I say while shoving at the restraining arm across me.

  "Olivia," he groans in a husky whisper, causing heat to shoot straight between my legs.

  He cuddles in closer, reflexively pressing his morning hardness against my leg. I shove at him again.

  "Momma!" Alex's yell is more panicked.

  "I'm coming, buddy," I yell back, shoving hard enough to move Damon off me.

  "What's wrong?" Damon gasps, sitting up.

  "Alex is awake," I answer without looking back as I exit the bedroom.

  Damon

  My body misses hers the moment she slides out from beneath me. The hard throb between my thighs burns for attention, but I climb out of bed and find Olivia calming Alex next to his bed.

  "Is he alright?" I yawn.

  Her eyes reach mine and my heart pounds. I look between them, standing in my apartment, in a nursery, and the rest of my life finally feels worth living. She will hate me, but I can't let them go. Not now. Not ever. This is right. Us, as a family, is right.

  "Yeah, he's just adjusting to new surroundings."

  Olivia will no longer meet my eyes. She smiles small and squeezes by me with Alex in her arms.

  Sighing, I know last night's conversation is probably the cause. I'd hoped it would make her walls come down just a little; instead, it seems to have had the opposite effect. Maybe I should have told her the entire tale of the night my world crashed down around me. Would it make her hate me more? Would she believe me? Maybe she would blame me, too.
>
  Stepping out of Alex's room, I stand in the hallway, listening to her move around the kitchen as she talks to Alex. My instinct is to run to her, beg her to understand, to accept us, but Olivia is stubborn and determined. Qualities I can admire, but not when I'm trying to get her to accept our unusual circumstances. Fighting the instinct, I go back to my room and get dressed.

  Showered and dressed, I return to Olivia and Alex. They’re both sitting at the kitchen island, eating.

  "There's a plate in the oven for you." She motions toward the oven with her fork.

  "Thank you."

  Retrieving my plate, I sit at the island next to them. We eat in silence, Olivia still distant and my nerves about today's plan to visit with my mother weighing on me.

  As I clear the breakfast dishes, Olivia goes upstairs to get Alex and herself ready. The closer we get to departure, the more anxious I become.

  Mother had been supportive of the search for Alex. However, she does not approve of my impromptu marriage in Vegas. To be more specific, she is bitterly angry I entered a marriage with Olivia. But not going to see Mother isn't an option. Today has to take place under my terms and arrangements. If left to her own devices, my mother would ensure a meeting and it would not be in anyone's favor but her own.

  "When are we leaving?"

  "What?" I quip, snapping out my worrisome thoughts.

  "For your mother’s. When are we leaving?" Olivia frowns.

  "Not for a few hours," I answer, still a bit distracted by my thoughts.

  With a silent nod, she places Alex, who is freshly dressed in khaki pants and green polo shirt, onto his feet. He hurries over to the toys from Heidi and my father left in the living area.

  "Will I be getting the silent treatment for the rest of your visit, or just today?"

  "Sorry," she mumbles, wrapping her arms around her middle.

  With a deep breath, I push off the island I'd been leaning against and approach her.

  Her head lifts at my movement and she takes a step back.

  "I didn't say those things last night just to say them. It was complete honesty. I meant every word."

  I watch her swallow before speaking.

  "I know you think you and I have a connection—"

  "Damn it, Olivia," I growl low, not wanting to draw Alex's attention. "I don't think it, I know it."

  "Mon," Alex calls out.

  Taking a deep, calming breath, I turn to him.

  "Yeah, buddy?" Smiling, I walk to him.

  "Pay blocks." He tugs on the basket of multicolored cubes.

  I help him pull out the toys and sit on the floor.

  "Of course we can play blocks together."

  Once settled onto the floor, I glance behind me to find Olivia gone — probably back upstairs.

  After an hour of playing blocks with my son, Olivia returns to the living room dressed in a pair of black pants, which hug her legs, a long-sleeved, blue-green, flowing blouse that reaches almost mid-thigh, and a black belt that accentuates her thin figure. The color of her blouse compliments her fair, freckled skin and bright red hair. I could only wish we were alone and she was willing.

  Turning my attention back to Alex, I ruffle his hair.

  "You ready to go for a visit today?"

  I pick up a couple blocks and put them back in the basket.

  "No," Alex states firmly, pulling the blocks back out.

  "We are going bye-bye to meet your grandmother," I repeat, cleaning up the blocks.

  "NO!" he shouts. "Pay blocks!"

  Wide-eyed, I stare at him, unsure of how to handle the outburst.

  "Alexander," Olivia authoritatively warns as she makes her way next to him.

  His body tenses, but he refuses to look at her.

  "We are leaving, so let's clean up, please."

  Squatting next to him, she starts placing more blocks in the basket.

  He pouts for a moment before slamming each block into the basket.

  "Be easy," Olivia orders.

  Alex listens, helping to put the remaining toys where they belong.

  At ten-thirty, we are received at my mother's home by her butler, Norman.

  Olivia looks more nervous than she did at my father’s, but the Banks Mansion can do that to people. She starts fidgeting and holds Alex closer.

  "Norman," I greet with a nod.

  "Mr. Knyght." He returns a brief nod. "Your mother is waiting for you in the breakfast room."

  "Thank you."

  Sliding my arm around Olivia's waist, I lead her to my mother.

  "She has a room just for breakfast?" Olivia whispers.

  I silently chuckle.

  "It's just a fancy name for the room. I did mention I come from money, right?"

  She looks up at me, annoyed. I grin.

  "Well, my mother is born and bred money. It's her family with the high pedigree and old money."

  When we reach the open French doors, I usher Olivia inside. We're the immediate focus of my mother's cold green eyes. She openly appraises Olivia and then Alex. Finally, she looks at me.

  "Damon, come."

  With a tap to her cheek, she prompts me to kiss her in greeting.

  Slipping away from Olivia, I move to my mother's side.

  "How are you, Mother?" I kiss her.

  "Nothing new to report."

  Her eyes bore into Olivia. I can feel the tension and Olivia's nervous fidgeting. Knowing my mother can exploit a weakness like a shark with the scent of blood, I move back to Olivia's side for support.

  "Introduce me to my grandson, Damon. I've waited long enough to meet him." Straightening her already perfect posture, she looks expectantly at Alex.

  Olivia hesitates, but I urge her forward. She complies, but only a few steps, so I take Alex into my arms and bring him to my mother.

  "Mother, this is Alexander, your grandson."

  Sitting in a chair beside her at the round table, I put Alex eyelevel with her. Alex grasps my shirt, hiding his face in my neck. I feel your pain, little buddy. I rub his back, hoping to soothe him.

  "Let's have a look."

  She shifts around in her seat and pulls his arm from my chest so she can look him over. Alex resists, but finally gives in.

  "He has your eyes and that God awful hair." She turns to Olivia. "It should be cut shorter to keep it from looking so wild."

  I shoot a look at Olivia, who is obviously trying to keep her anger in check.

  "He also has a lot of his mother in him, I see." Mother's disappointing tone brings my attention back to her.

  "Speaking of his mother, this is my wife, Olivia."

  I motion for Olivia to take a seat next to me. She doesn't. My mother briefly glances to her before turning back to me.

  "Olivia, this is my mother, Mildred Banks-Knyght."

  "Yes, I see." Mildred forces a smile and then takes a deep breath. "Olivia, please sit. Your standing is making me uncomfortable," she states without looking at her.

  "Wouldn't want that, now would we?" Olivia mumbles, taking a seat next to me.

  Clearing my throat, I situate Alex in my lap so he can face the table, though he still won't fully acknowledge my mother.

  "So, how long is he visiting?"

  Mother picks up her antique teacup and sips slowly.

  "Until the end of the week." There's no hiding the sadness at the mention of them leaving.

  "I see." She places her cup back onto the saucer and sets the saucer on the table. "When will he be back to spend some time or to live with you?" she asks.

  "Excuse me?" Olivia interrupts.

  "Did you not understand the question, dear?" my mother patronizes.

  "Mother," I warn.

  She waves me off.

  "Damon, I understand your need for rebellion, but your choice to marry is absolutely preposterous. And to top off this insanity, you didn't secure any of your assets before marrying this…this girl."

  I quickly turn my attention to Olivia, wanting to calm the ange
r I know she will be feeling, but what I see is smugness.

  "I completely agree, Miss Banks."

  Olivia smiles at me before turning her attention to my mother.

  "Excuse me?" my mother asks incredulously. "You agree with me?"

  "Yes. In fact, I've offered your son an annulment, but he's refused me." Olivia crosses her arms over her chest.

  I narrow my eyes at her.

  "Is this true, Damon?"

  "It's more complicated than that," I snap. "Think of Alex."

  "Hmm…" my mother responds.

  "Damon, I've told you we could make arrangements for Alex and for you to be in each other's lives. The annulment has nothing to do with him." Olivia reaches for a teacup and sips what I'm sure she believes to be a victory drink.

  "Damon Patrick!" my mother exclaims, her body shaking from anger. "Agree to this immediately. Have the lawyers review the paperwork and sign the damn papers. Make visitation and custody agreements now."

  "I'm not a child. I can make my own decisions."

  Adrenaline causes my body to shake and anger boils in my stomach.

  "Enough with this behavior. Do as I say!" Her hand slaps the table, causing the china to chatter.

  Out of the corner of my eye, Olivia flinches, guilt flashing in her eyes. She has no idea what she's started or whom she has started it with.

  "Are you listening to me?"

  I meet my mother's gaze, knowing she’s about to share her famous speech.

  "You are my only child. The only heir to the Banks’ empire and I have worked too damn hard for you to throw it all away on childish acts of insurgency. When we discussed your actions regarding this matter, I told you to seek out your child or children. Not once did I approve of marriage."

  She begins to cough and wheeze.

  "Damon?" Olivia scoots to the end of her seat, preparing to help my mother. "We should help her."

  Ignoring Olivia's panic and my mother's act, I sit back in the chair.

  "Mother, it's not going to work this time. Now, you can get control of yourself and visit with your grandson or we can go. Which shall it be?"

  Mildred Banks immediately stops her theatrics and narrows her eyes on me.

  "I don't know what's gotten into you," she grumbles, picking up her cup and sipping once more.