The Reward

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The Reward Page 11

by Jade A. Waters


  Fortunately, I got too caught up in the move to care. The week was chaotic at best, and in hindsight, opting to cram in a bunch of moving before Dean left town was probably insane—but from the moment he’d proposed it, we’d both been itching to make it happen. That enthusiasm had ridden with us through the entire haul of my piano on his last Saturday, where even the movers had commented on what a “cute couple” we were. We’d followed them with a dozen more boxes shoved in my old car and spent the day arranging the things I’d already brought over while the movers set up the piano in what was officially Dean’s and my house.

  Our house.

  It felt like the best thing I’d said in a long time.

  With Selby and Alex home earlier in the week, I’d managed to miss seeing them between my trips back and forth from Half Moon Bay, Alameda and Hayward; plus, Selby was wrapped up in prepping for the start of school. But on the occasions I’d spoken with her, she seemed unusually pumped to hang out. She sounded relaxed and happy after her honeymoon, but I imagined she, like me, was anticipating the dramatic change in how often we’d hang out after I moved in with Dean. It wasn’t bad, but it would be different. So when Selby called Sunday morning to say the wait was killing her and might I like to come for dinner before the school year kicked off in full force again, I’d run the idea by Dean and he hadn’t given it another thought.

  “Of course you should, silly.”

  “But you’re leaving Tuesday.”

  I held on to the phone having disconnected with Selby, but Dean paid this no mind before swapping the spatula to his other hand to grab my wrist in my stance beside him. He tugged me against his naked torso, his attempt to make us the perfect Sunday morning breakfast wearing only his sweatpants—which he’d jokingly teased I’d “better get used to suffering through”—on pause when his lips met mine in a brief, sweet kiss. I relaxed into him, looping my arm around his waist and breathing in the scent of bacon grease and eggs while his hand trailed down over my ass.

  “Yes, I’m leaving. But I had all yesterday with you, and I have plenty of future nights with you after I finish this job,” he said, cupping my ass cheek. “Selby just got back. She misses you. We upped and moved you pretty damn fast, and you two are used to hanging out whenever the hell you want to. It’s okay.” He slid his hand up to massage my neck while he flipped my egg in the middle of a frying pan coated in bacon grease. Him cooking was already delighting me, but with our cozy nights together, his words shot warmth through my chest. “The goal was to get you closer. Not to take away your old life.”

  “I know, but I—”

  Dean tapped my nose. “Go. It leaves me time to get my packing done for my trip, and I can give you a break and put some things away.” I opened my mouth to speak, but Dean continued. “Don’t worry. I’m well aware the décor is a team effort. You haven’t let me forget that.”

  At this, I giggled, since we’d agreed the walls would need an overhaul between the framed art I cherished alongside what he already had. Until he was back from L.A., that project was on hold. “All right. Selby will be happy.”

  “She’d have my head if you didn’t go, anyway.”

  I poked him in the side, and then I backed away with a smirk before setting the table while he worked over breakfast. This entire arrangement felt great, as did the stretch of the next few hours we spent unpacking and moving things around. At about four, I changed and gave him a hug to head off for an early dinner at Selby’s house. “Later, handsome.”

  “See you when you get home, lovely.” He laced his fingers into my hair and clutched the mass of it tight before he gave me one sexy goodbye kiss.

  “Don’t have too much fun without me.”

  “Same goes for you, miss.”

  I practically danced out to my car.

  My drive over to Selby and Alex’s was quick and easy, and after my light tap on their front door, I walked in and shouted, “Hey!”

  “Hey!” both of them called. They huddled in the kitchen straight ahead of me, Selby’s back against the counter and Alex staring down at her with this crazy affectionate look on his face.

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa. What’s this?” I gestured from their heads down to their feet before I reached them. Mushy to this degree wasn’t generally something they did, even around me, but Selby grinned at Alex before circling her arms fast around me.

  “Marriage.”

  “Sap,” I muttered, both of us swaying for a second in our hug. When she drew away, I examined them both. “I haven’t seen either of you this tan in years.”

  Neither one of them commented. Alex was still smiling at Selby, but he backed away to grab the glass plate of hors d’oeuvres they’d arranged with pickles, olives, crackers and cheese. I grabbed a cracker. “Fancy. This is different.”

  “We’re celebrating,” Alex said.

  After chewing half the cracker, I said, “Sheesh. Crazy newlyweds.”

  “That’s it.” Alex shrugged. He peeked at Selby, and she grinned.

  “Ridiculous.” I shook my head and took a seat at the table. “Well, don’t leave me hanging, you two! Tell me about the trip.”

  Alex jumped in first. “Florence was the best.” He explained dreamy details of the city, from the art to the music that he said occupied every nook of the place. Selby added a comment on occasion. For the most part, she wore a cheerful shine on her face and finished tending the mushroom risotto she explained she’d gotten the recipe for after an hour-long personal conversation with the lead chef at some exquisite restaurant in a small Tuscan town. Once Alex settled into the chair across from me and finished recounting the adventure of climbing the steps of the Duomo, I nodded at Selby.

  “What about you?” I asked her. “Was Florence your favorite, too?”

  “Nope. Tuscany, all the way.” She turned off the stove and spun around, and I examined her while she spoke. I couldn’t figure out why, but she looked different somehow. She had her hair in a soft, loose braid—something I rarely saw her do—and there was this bright light in her eyes as she shared her own anecdotes from the trip. When she mentioned the wineries they’d visited, Alex jumped back up to bust open one of the bottles of Chianti they’d brought home. He gestured for Selby to sit with me, which she did.

  “That stuff’s amazing. Alex gulped it down wherever we found it.” Selby watched while Alex poured two glasses with a wink at her, and I narrowed my eyes.

  Selby wasn’t a big drinker, but she wasn’t one to skip wine with dinner, either. I had the funniest feeling all of a sudden. “None for you?”

  “No. I’m good.”

  I tilted my head before Alex handed me a glass, and while I sipped, Selby’s cheeks turned bright red across the table from me. Alex stayed quiet but wore this enormous grin, sipping his own glass of wine and propping himself against the counter.

  “What is going on?” I asked.

  She glanced at Alex, then me. “Okay, I give up. I can’t even wait until dinner. We’re pregnant!”

  I flew up from my chair. “Oh my fucking God! No way!” She beamed when I bent myself over her in a hug, and then I grabbed Alex in one, too. I clapped my hands together, squealing while the two of them giggled at me. “Holy shit! How did that happen?” I waved my hands around. “I mean, obviously. We know how. You know what I mean.”

  Selby snickered, and I sat down. Alex started handling the serving of dishes while she began. “We decided we didn’t want to wait long after the wedding, and I got off the pill early, thinking it would take way more time than it would...”

  “Ha. Of course it didn’t! You’re the queen of all things domestic and traditional.”

  Alex laughed and set a plate in front of each of us. “Pretty much.”

  “First try,” Selby said. “Maybe second. I don’t know. There was a lot of excitement going on.”

&nb
sp; I snorted as Alex tucked into his own seat with a plate of food. “Does this mean all the ginger ale I had to buy you wasn’t for wedding nerves?”

  “No, it was.”

  “But she was also trying not to puke everywhere,” Alex teased. He took her hand in his, and none of us touched our dinners. It was hard to care about food. This was so fucking cool, I was glowing.

  “Crap,” I said, considering the timing. “Did it fuck up your trip, though?”

  “It wasn’t too bad. I ate a lot of these yummy Italian table crackers. And bubbly water.”

  “Nice.”

  Alex lifted his fork. “Okay, ladies. News is out. Let’s eat. The missus worked hard on this meal.”

  I jostled his arm, such a wave of warmth rushing over me. The food smelled incredible, but my excitement for them surpassed it all. Everything clicked in my head, from Selby’s extreme nervousness in anticipation of the wedding to the nausea I’d been convinced was anxiety. “Sneaky girl! I can’t believe you kept this under wraps.”

  She lifted her shoulders playfully before Alex stroked the side of her thumb, and both of them stared at one another. They looked so enamored right then, I almost cried. This was what Selby had wanted her whole life—the husband, the house, the kid, and I knew they’d make the perfect parents. I swayed my head with sheer joy before Selby said, “You were the first person I wanted to tell. But you know, this was our thing. It wasn’t time to tell you yet.”

  “I get it.”

  “I’ve been dying to, though.” She scooped up a bite of her food and circled her belly with her other hand. “Okay, we can talk about this for, you know, nine months or so. I want to know about your move. We had a glass of wine for you when we got your email. Okay, Alex did.” He agreed. “I, on the other hand, downed a ton of seltzer water in your honor.” All three of us laughed. “But it went okay? How was your official first night together? Are you so happy?”

  Her rapid-fire questions didn’t jar me at all.

  For the rest of dinner, we bounced back and forth with chipper stories.

  Chapter Eight

  My excitement for Selby and Alex had carried me through dinner and all the way home, so I’d been about to burst with the news by the time I reached Dean’s and my front door. When I found him stretched out on the couch, wearing a light blue T-shirt and plaid pajama pants and holding a book in hand, I paused. My smile had to be out of control, but damn.

  This was what I got to come home to from here forward?

  “Hi,” I said, shutting the door. Dean had already looked up, his face calm, his eyes shining under the lamplight behind him.

  “Welcome back, beautiful.” He closed the book, and I dropped my purse on the entry table we’d moved over from my place. I couldn’t resist the urge to join him on the couch. He chuckled when I slid into place in front of him and encouraged the curve of his arm around me. “Oh. So that’s how you’re going to be, huh?”

  “Yep. I’m cuddly tonight. Sorry to interrupt your reading.”

  “It’s all good.” Dean stretched the book over me to drop it on the coffee table, then adjusted his back against the couch and propped his elbow on the armrest to leave room for me to lie flat in front of him. Beside him, I was comfy. I’d seen him read in brief spurts on a handful of relaxing dates at the beach, and on an occasional morning we spent lazing in bed rather than fucking around, but the prospect of sharing these moments on a regular basis with him lit me up inside.

  Dean grazed a finger down my cheek in his quiet repose. Once he reached my neck, sending warmth into my chest, I smiled wider.

  “Did you have fun?” he asked.

  “I did.”

  “Well...what was the news?”

  “They’re pregnant!” I blurted.

  Dean smirked. “I thought that was it.”

  “You did?” When he nodded, I caught his hand and flattened it on my sternum, caressing his long fingers. “How? I thought maybe that could be it, but how did you ‘know’?” I flashed an air quote with my free hand while I spoke.

  He shrugged. “Call it a feeling.”

  “Why?”

  “You kept saying she was freaking out, and...I don’t know how to describe it, but she looked different to me at the wedding.”

  I wriggled my mouth in thought. “Are you telling me you were checking out her boobs?”

  Dean tilted his head back in a laugh. “Well I wasn’t staring. She’s your best friend. But she seemed...rosy and rounder, somehow?”

  “Ha. You dirty man!” I kissed the tips of his fingers, undaunted. For one, Dean meant it playfully and I’d never lacked trust in him—not with the experiences we’d had together. We’d spent the first few months of our relationship open to playing with others, too. We’d tried it once at a sex club in an attempt that failed due to my past rising up and fucking with my head, and again later when Dean had invited his old friend into our bed before their history had messed it up for both of us. While the event itself had been fun, the aftermath had been a disaster. However, it’d forced Dean to open up about his past, his jealousy and what it turned out both he and I truly wanted: wild, naughty exploration of this dynamic, but just between the two of us.

  That didn’t mean we couldn’t talk about attractions to other people, or that he couldn’t notice my best friend’s breasts, though. They were pretty phenomenal. Even I knew that.

  “So,” I teased, “you’re telling me you figured out she was pregnant because of her boobs?”

  Dean tickled my side. “No. Something just seemed different. The vibe was different.”

  “Like you sensed her hormones or something?” I clutched his hand tighter against me and eyed him skeptically. “That’s hilarious, Dean.”

  “Is it?” He freed his hand to trace his fingers down to my belly in a gentle stroke, then straightened his chin over his propped hand. “I can tell when you’re on your period before you tell me sometimes.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  He shook his head. “Not every time. I’m not going to proclaim I know all, but sometimes I can tell.” He smoothed his palm over my belly. “You’re softer here.” He ran his fingers back up to tease my nipple through my shirt and grinned. “Sometimes I notice you’re extra sensitive here.”

  That was true. I murmured, “Okay, that’s fair.”

  “Also, you’re always a little more feisty and testy—”

  “Hey!”

  “But I like you feisty.” Dean caught the hand I’d driven into his side in a playful stab. “I love it, actually.” Both of us chuckled before he snuggled down next to me so we were eye-to-eye in a close press on the leather couch. After he curved his foot around mine, he continued. “But I’m happy for them,” he said, bringing me back to Selby and Alex’s news as he draped his arm over my side.

  “Me, too.” For a few minutes we lay there, enjoying the quiet between us, the warmth of our bodies together. Selby and Alex’s happiness made my heart swell. Dean and I had talked about wanting kids at some point in our lives, but we hadn’t gone too in depth beyond the general urge to one day have them. I lifted my eyes to his. “What about you? I know you want kids one day. How many?”

  “Two,” he said, without hesitation. “I’d be open to three. You?”

  I clucked my tongue. “Two is my max.”

  “Reasonable.”

  I loved how heavy Dean’s stare was, and how he didn’t shy from this conversation. He’d told me that he’d talked about these things with the one serious girlfriend he’d had—Kendra—but he hadn’t been ready to go that route before she’d died. Charlie and I hadn’t ever talked about kids beyond him telling me in his ever-abusive way that he’d never want them with me, and after him, I’d never dated anyone long enough to go there.

  It was funny how at first I’
d never thought Dean and I could head that direction, but we’d barreled forward into this wonderful, warm thing, the perfect blend of sweetness and incredible, wicked delights.

  “Okay. Big question.” Dean cleared his throat, drawing my focus back. “One day, would you want those two kids with me?”

  “Yes. For sure.”

  “That’s good.” My heart pounded in my chest while he brought our hands up between us and smashed them in the heat of our bodies. My cheeks felt warm. Good warm. “Do you have a time frame?”

  I lifted my shoulder in a half shrug. “I don’t think so. I mean, I don’t want to be forty when we start, but I’m not ready yet. Do you have one?”

  “Well, I am forty—but it’s down the line for me. I’d want to be married first.”

  I held my breath. This was by far the most serious the conversation had ever gotten, and yet it felt easy. Perfect. “I love that.”

  Dean kissed my fingers. “Good. Because I’m serious about you, Maya. That’s why I wanted you here, with me. And one day...”

  The low hum of his voice trailing off caressed my ears, and I whispered, “One day.” Despite the tease of his teeth over my fingertips, I kept my eyes wide-open. His irises were such a soft, sweet color while we talked, the blue overruling the gray, a dark ocean of possibilities playing in them as the expression on his face remained loving and warm. “I’m going to miss you while you’re gone.”

  Dean lifted his head. “I know. I’ll miss you, too. At least it’s the last trip, even though it is for such a long time.” He kissed me, gently, and when he peeled back, I flexed my foot against his.

  “Whatever will I do in this house without you?”

  “I think you’ll have to enjoy it. Decorate the parts you like, make it home.” I grinned, and he snugged his arm tight around me to plant a firmer kiss on my lips. “Speaking of...come see what I did.”

  He winked, then shifted his body to rise from the couch. I arranged myself into a sit, entranced by the shimmer in his eyes once he reached his hand out for mine.

 

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