“I thought you left me because I stole your kill shot, everything you ever wanted in life. It killed me. But I had to.”
“Now, I know that’s what you had to do. That night, I was destroyed over it, would rather have died trying to kill him. Then finding out that I was pregnant—I couldn’t handle it.”
“So… You’re pregnant. You’re in Spain… What were you going to do?” Were you. Not are you. Notice that and agree. Just come back home.
“I was going to find a home, a place I could call mine.”
Home was with him. “There’s already a place like that.”
She didn’t answer, and the reminder drifted in the waterfront wind, floating away.
Tugging at a handful of fabric from her skirt, he pushed her to answer. “You’re saying no?”
She sighed. “I’m saying I don’t think I’m very good mate material. I went from being obsessed with the demise of a man to maybe carrying his baby, and I’m not even sure I could live up to being a good… woman to you.”
“That’s insane. I’ve never met anyone more woman than you.”
“No.” Her cheeks turned red, and she stared at the grass. “I have nightmares. I don’t think I can do that ever again. Nothing has changed. I can’t—I don’t think I can be a good…woman.”
“Kitten, nightmares we can handle.”
“It’s more than that.” Her brow furrowed. “I’m… ruined.” She jabbed her blade of grass with each word.
Oh hell. How could he be such an insensitive shit, focusing on one issue and forgetting about another. “Look, I love you. Love. Nothing about you is ruined. And nothing about you isn’t worth loving.”
“Now you’re lying.”
“When you were at Jared’s, I was in hell. I hated it. I hated him, and he’s practically family. But I never hated you. Just like you knew we were destined to meet, I know we’re destined to never stay apart. You wanna skip town, jump continents, run from me? I’ll find you. It’s what I’ll always do. You belong with me.”
“I…”
“You love me like I love you.” Two simple facts. She couldn’t refute them.
“Yes.”
“This seems simple enough. You have two options. Stay here and I’ll stay.” He looked around. Not a bad view. Beach living could be okay or at least something he could get used to. “Or we go home. What’s it going to be?”
“There are more options than that.”
“Not from my point of view.”
She avoided his gaze.
“It’s simple, Cat. Don’t make this complicated. Everything else can be screwed up. Everything else, we deal with. You and me? Simple. So simple question, simple answer. I stay or you go. What’s it going to be?”
“I guess...”
“You guess? Nah, that doesn’t work. Just tell me. Which is it? Just say it.”
“We go home.”
He smiled. Relieved. “Good answer.”
Her eyes lit up, and he felt his soul for the first time. His woman and his baby.
“Come here.” He pulled her into his arms and kissed the top of her head. They faced the water, her back against his stomach and her loose hair blowing around his face, tickling his neck. She smelled like the outdoors, like the beach and the wind rolling off the Mediterranean. The church bell clanged again overhead, and birds soaring off the water squawked.
Her hand squeezed his, and he looked at it, small in comparison to his. “You’re still wearing your band.”
She shrugged against him. “Never occurred to me to take it off.”
“Me neither.” The bell finished clanging for the twelfth time and broke into a faster pace, a song, celebrating the day, announcing noon had arrived. A minister walked through the graveyard. “Let’s not take them off.”
Sighing, she clasped her hand in his. “Okay.”
The gravity of his suggestion hit him but clearly had missed Caterina completely. “I’m serious. I don’t want to take this ring off, and I don’t want you to either.”
Her head dipped back, leaning onto his shoulder. “Are you asking me to marry you?”
He laughed. “You plan on saying yes?”
Huge smile. Happy eyes. “Yes.”
“I saw a minister.” He spun her in his lap. “We already have our rings.”
“And I am wearing a white dress.”
Rocco stood, pulling her up with him. Her arms hooked around his neck, and her feet dangled. “Caterina Cruz, will you marry me? Today. Right now, where everything started and forced our paths to cross?” He kissed her. “Gotta marry me, Kitten. Has to happen.”
The gauzy skirt billowed around them with a gust of wind. “I’m wearing white at a church when you show up? You know how I feel about coincidence.”
“Say it, Kitten.”
“Si. I’ll marry you.” And she kissed him with no hesitation, no need for deliberate caution and warning signs.
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
“You ready for this?” Rocco took her hand as they walked through the door.
“I’m never sure I’m ready for anything that Sugar’s in charge of.” Caterina could’ve killed for a Diet Coke that moment, but she had kicked the caffeine habit. “But bring on the Titan.”
“Bring on the Titan.” He laughed as they rounded the corner.
“Surprise!”
Caterina jumped. She knew it was coming, and she still jumped. When a half-dozen built-like-tanks men jumped at you, especially when they looked as deadly and daring as this bunch, all the warning in the world wasn’t going to keep a girl from taking a step back. Lord.
She threw back her head, laughing, and Rocco held her outstretched arm. “Surprise.”
“Welcome home party, Senorita.” Sugar stepped forward, handing her a glass of something sparkly. Maybe Jared never told her Cat was pregnant. Maybe she forgot. Hell, maybe she thought when Cat came home she wouldn’t be anymore. Who knew? Sugar was a wild one, and Cat wouldn’t waste time guessing her motives.
Catching her off guard, Sugar gave her a hug and whispered, “It’s sparkling apple juice.”
And that made Cat laugh. Always up to something, that one was.
They walked further into the Westin’s living room, and she was comfortable. No one gawked at her. No one whispered, not as though they would have, but it was a little over-dramatic to make Rocco chase her onto the other side of the world.
Sugar and Mia ran around, making sure everyone had a glass, and instinctively Cat knew that Mia had cooked and Sugar supplied the liquor. She liked the idea of seeing the same people on a regular basis. That was odd, a foreign concept, but normal life took getting used to. Regular place to sleep and wake. Regular stream of constant people, also now known to her as friends… It could’ve been overwhelming, but it just wasn’t.
“Told you, another one bit the dust,” Roman called out.
“Cheers,” Nicola and Sarah said at the same time, laughing. Clearly, their glasses weren't filled with sparkling apple juice.
“Cheers!” Asal mimicked, holding up her glass of something entirely different than the adults.
Jessica and Kelly, the Gamble kids, did the same thing. Then Clara imitated, copying Asal’s actions exactly, and the toddler’s voice melted Cat’s heart.
“Cheers.” Rocco laced his fingers in hers and held up her hand like she was a prize-winning fighter at the end of a round. “To my wife. Stuck with me forever.”
Whoops and hollers rang out. Roman shook his head, muttering to Parker about the problems with love, even though Caterina had noticed in the five seconds she’d been there that his head followed Beth around. Nicola fell onto Cash’s lap, and he was pulling out his wallet. A bet lost? With Brock wrapped around her waist, Sarah gushed to Sugar. And in the corner, Jared stood, arms folded, looking very pleased with himself.
Since they were making announcements… “And…” She tilted her head, her eyes meeting her husband’s. “Rocco’s gonna be a daddy.”
All
over again, the room rang out. The ladies jumped and screamed. Back slapping followed quickly with a bevy of questions. How was she feeling? How far along? What did he say? What did she feel? The answer to everything was perfect and loved.
Everything piped down after a few minutes. Mia ran off to change Ace’s diaper. Clara followed Asal, Jessica, and Kelly around. Roman followed Beth. Parker was texting on his phone. Sarah and Sugar talked non-stop, and Nicola had stolen her husband’s cowboy hat. Caterina was comfortable. She bounced between conversations with the ladies, trying to stomach food, but morning sickness seemed like it was raising its squeamish head. Jared kept watching her, saying little but Sugar more than made up for it with her snarky hostess humor.
After a few minutes of watching Jared watch her, she sidled up to Rocco on the couch. “Did you tell him?”
He shook his head. That was going to be quite the conversation, and Cat had no idea how Jared would react.
“No time like the present. Let’s do it.”
Her stomach bottomed, and that wasn’t the morning sickness. It was the right thing to do—the only thing to do—but nerves were floating in her stomach, side by side with her baby-nausea, and she didn’t want to get sick on Boss Man’s shoes.
Rocco tugged her the last few feet. “Jared—”
“I need to talk to Cat.”
Uh-oh. She gulped.
“Us first.” Rocco moved her in front of him, and suddenly she felt like a little thing in an alpha-man sandwich.
Jared grunted. “Fine.”
She took a deep breath and hoped Rocco would do it quickly, just like he’d ripped off the last of the bandages on her shoulder. “Cat and I had a lot of time to think this over.”
She gulped, and Jared’s eyes narrowed.
Roc kept going, “There’s no other way to put it.”
Get to the point already. She nudged him.
“We think you should be the baby’s godfather.”
Jared’s jaw dropped. “Godfather?”
She smiled. “Seems like a job for Boss Man. I always thought of you as mine.”
He uncrossed, then re-crossed his arms. “Well, fuck yes.”
Caterina had to laugh. Only Jared. “Gracias.”
“Thanks, man.”
Jared, apparently only able to handle one minute’s worth of an emotional moment, nodded curtly. “One more thing for you.”
She took Rocco’s hand, always a smidgen nervous when Jared had that this-is-a-heavy-moment tone. “What is that?”
“Come with me.”
He didn’t wait for an answer and stormed off. They followed just like he probably expected they would, following him into a side room that looked like a home office. On his desk was a small box, wrapped in dry, blood-covered, faded paper.
The present.
It was straight out of her nightmares. No. Her memories.
“This is yours. I kept it. Don’t know why. But there it is.” He popped one knuckle at a time, and she stepped toward his desk, pulled by the little present.
She picked it up. Weathered. The paper was crunchy and aged, the ribbon flat, as if it’d been packed away.
“Open it,” Rocco urged.
It was almost too much. She didn’t want to disturb it. Curiosity encouraged her to tear the paper off, but it also felt like disturbing history. Carefully, she ran a finger under the taped sides, and they came up with ease. Twenty year old tape didn’t keep its adhesive. She unfolded the paper without tearing and found a non-descript box. The top opened easily, and she found a bright red 1980s tape recorder and a cassette tape. The kind that allowed recordings off of her boom box.
“What is it?” Roc asked.
She pulled it out. All three of them studied it like they were preparing to disarm a bomb, and Rocco lifted it from her hands and turned it over, popping the back off. “Four double-A batteries.”
Jared moved to his desk, removed the back of a clock, put it down, grabbed a remote,and opened it. “Got two.” He tossed them to Rocco, who put them in. Jared continued through another remote, cursing when he found triple-As. “Give me a minute.”
How many remotes could a man have?
Walking out the door, he was gone long enough for nerves to kick in over the homemade tape. The label read Caterina Cruz’s Tenth Birthday in her mama’s handwriting, as if she could ever forget that.
Jared stepped back in. “Bingo.”
Two more double-As flew at Rocco. He snagged them mid-air and popped them in, closing the back.
Jared shifted in his boots. “I’m pretty sure I need to make sure Sugar isn’t terrorizing people.” After a couple of steps, he turned around, looking like his usual angry self. “Thanks for the godfather honor. You two blew my mind.” Then he left.
Rocco sat in a chair, pulling her onto his lap.
She laughed nervously, remembering all the things she used to do with her family. Her brothers singing to the radio. Leaving silly messages and recording, re-recording over and over until the tapes wouldn’t take anymore.
“You want to listen to it?”
Yes. No. Thousands of butterflies flew laps in her stomach. “It’s probably nothing. Spanish radio, circa 1980s.”
“So put it in, and press play.”
“I can’t.”
“Hell yes you can, Kitten.”
Without thinking about it anymore, she hit play. Spanish tunes screamed out. She jumped, and Rocco adjusted the volume. The music cut off.
“Feliz cumpleaños!” Happy birthday! A tidal wave of emotion hit her as her mama’s voice sang into the air. “Feliz cumpleaños! Feliz cumpleaños! Feliz cumpleaños! Feliz cumpleaños!” Her brothers each took a turn wishing her a happy birthday.
The tape crackled. “Feliz cumpleaños, mi pequeña!” Her daddy’s voice. Happy birthday, my little one. A full-body shiver started at her nape and spread. He kept talking, and she let the tears fall without bothering to wipe them away then hit the stop button.
“What?” Rocco’s face shot up. “What’d he say? Why’d you stop it?”
She rewound the tape. Translating after her daddy. “Ten years old and you're turning into such a young lady. Your family loves you. Always remember, love is strong enough to survive anything. Even what you're about to hear.” She took a breath. “That’s where I stopped it. I don’t want to hear—”
“It’s your birthday present, not something awful.” Rocco pressed play. She slammed her hands on top of his, trying to stop it. What would it be? Horrid family secrets? A reminder that she’d wanted her birthday party the way she wanted it, and it got them all killed? It was too much too—
Wham! blasted from the little speaker. Her brothers—the toughest boys she knew at the age of ten—broke into a booming. “Jitterbug.” Four freaking times, singing along with George Michael and Andrew Ridgeley. Here brothers were singing along with Wham!?
“Ay Dios mio!” She slapped her hand over her mouth.
“What the hell is that?”
“I drove them nuts with that song. Non-stop.”
All four of them sang, if it could be called that, at the top of their lungs over the music. “You put the boom-boom in my heart.”
“That is awful.” Her husband was failing to keep it together. His lips sucked in. His chiseled cheeks reddened. His eyes danced. His chest rumbled, trying to suffocate hysterics.
“Awful! I love it!”
Hands covering her face, she couldn’t stop laughing. Rocco couldn’t stop laughing. It was so bad, and exactly what she needed.
CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
“I think I’m done.” Caterina lay in bed, twirling her wedding band around her finger. “It’s over.”
Rocco rolled over, tucking his chin over her shoulder and slipping his hand over her swelling stomach. He couldn’t get over how the bump kept changing. “Done, huh?”
“It’s been a week.”
“That’s a long time?” One day, her stomach hadn’t looked so flat. Then it had a litt
le lull to it. Now it had achieved full-fledged baby bump status.
“It is when you have the world’s longest morning sickness. It’s been like a vacation.”
“You may be the only woman ever to call pregnancy a vacation.” He could feel her smile in his arms. His hand drew lazy circles on her growing belly, using it as more of an excuse to lay his biceps across her looking-fuller-by-the-day breasts.
She turned her head. “Are you excited for tomorrow?”
Tomorrow couldn’t come fast enough. He never really needed to sleep and probably wouldn’t get any that night. “Am I excited?” He kissed her neck. “Hell, woman.”
“Me too.” She nudged her head back and—he could’ve sworn—gave him the slightest bit more skin to kiss.
She didn’t have to tell him twice. Her back arched, and he groaned. The erection he’d been carrying for two-months-going-on-eternity raged to life, and he shifted. Away. One day, everything would be okay.
He wasn’t complaining. It would happen when he least expected it. At least that was what the pamphlets and counselors, and websites had all said.
“Boy or girl?”
“I don’t know,” she whispered.
Her hand rested on top of his. The big fat book of shit-he-was-supposed-to-know said that any day now, he’d feel the baby move. Any day now. He was waiting. She pressed his palm to her belly. Any day now could happen any minute now ’cause he wanted to feel his kid.
“Did you feel something?”
“No.”
“Sorry.” Her voice was feathery, and it tickled over his senses, just like her hand, no longer pressing but hovering, barely touching him, teasing his skin and drawing prickles that cascaded like thousands of shimmery bites, up his arm, down his spine. Straight to his groin.
God, he was going to die. Not wanting to be more obvious than he already was, Rocco tried to add a bit of space between them. He needed space, and she needed holding. It never balanced.
“Don’t move away from me.”
“Oh, Kitten. I don’t want to. But I kinda have to.” He kissed her neck as chastely as he could. “I’m sorry.”
Her back arched into him again, her sweet ass backing up against his erection. The touch stole his breath, shut his eyes, and left him just savoring the closeness. Patience wasn’t one of his virtues. Maybe he didn’t have any. But he had been trying like hell to behave, and little moves like Cat was making weren’t helping.
Savage Secrets (Titan #6) Page 28
