Undisclosed Desire (The Complete Box Set

by Falon Gold

  “I know you will handle it, Astrid. I’ve never known you to lose your head about anything, and I should’ve trusted you to be you. I won’t make that mistake again. So, where do we go from here? Hopefully to the truck for some privacy. There’s none to be had in here.”

  A flash of amusement crosses her face, then her manner switches right back to subdued. I’ll give up everything to bring her infectious joy and lively spirit back, and mend whatever I’ve broken inside her.

  “I did lose my head, Blake, when I panicked and ran home to my parents. I know I shouldn’t have done that, well, at least not before telling—”

  I drop one finger across her lips. “You should’ve went to wherever you felt the safest and most taken care of. Our baby and you deserve that, and I’m not mad about finding out about him eight months too late. I’m just glad I didn’t miss every milestone in your pregnancy.”

  “Six months too late,” she forces around my finger. I move it so she can speak freely. “I went to the doctor, when I thought I’d come down with the flu. I was already eight weeks gone.”

  “I wish you had told me were sick, Astrid. I’d have gone with you. You wouldn’t have gone through any of this alone. I’m so sorry that you didn’t think my love extended to going through thick and thin with you.”

  She swallows deeply. “I wasn’t alone. I had my parents. I don’t know how I’m going to take your parents though. I don’t have a blue blood background, nor would I trade my family for one.”

  Besides the initial shock that I gave her when I first confessed my love for her, she’s starting to tune me out every time I mention my feelings now. My parents are fast becoming the least of my problems. My worst decision, letting Astrid leave without giving her my whole heart, is coming back to bite me in the ass the hardest.

  “Don’t worry about the Powers, Astrid. I’ll handle them when it comes to you. I just need to know are we staying here or in Harrison?”

  When I think about it, Harrison may just be the best solution, which makes it harder for my parents to interfere and show up out of the blue. And they will.

  “Harrison in Utah!” Malisa yelps. She may be the only one besides Astrid familiar with the cities in that state. She still works there as Apollo’s vice president, when she’s not traveling back and forth between there and here, checking on her new home.

  Apollo puts his finger to his mouth. “Shhh, baby. Let them talk.”

  “But, Apollo,” she whispers loudly. “I need someone who can empathize with what I’m going through while pregnant, and I can call her sister. She’s the closest that I’m going to get to having one. Blake was and is a horrible excuse for a sibling. He doesn’t talk to me about anything anymore.”

  Uncle Tommy’s laughter blasts off. “Malisa, no one can empathize with you. Who in here has ever had a whole playground around their waist? Not even your father can brag about that.”

  Astrid’s chest bounces with her amusement. Every time the conversation dips below uncomplicated and fun, her tinkling laugh dries up. I rather keep the smile on her face.

  “This is what I go through in Arrow, Astrid. It doesn’t matter where we stay. Malisa has all kinds of ways at her disposal to travel, to see you and the baby. Save me and please take me to Harrison.” She giggles, and I’ve successfully concealed my desperation to be wherever she is.

  Her fingers stretch through the space between us toward mine, finally reaching for me on her own. When she’s linked to me, she looks deeply into my eyes. “Blake, you can’t move to Harrison. You have a job here that you love, and we still have so much to talk about before we make any decisions regarding our child’s future. You must make one concerning your parents first. I’m not going to build any kind of relationship with you just to have them tear it down. Something should be done about your habit for withholding information. Giving me all your body is one thing. Letting someone into your world is something else entirely, and I don’t know if it’s that easy for you to just change overnight.” Her uncertainty in me gives me hope for us and, finally, something to build on. It’s not her trust, that’s for sure, as much as I’d like for it to be, but her willingness to give me a chance is as good as any for a starting place.

  “You and now the baby are my world, Astrid. Give me this month to prove it.”

  She drops her head, starts fiddling with my fingers. “If you don’t?” The doubts ripple off her like waves.

  I release her hands to lift her chin up with my thumbs. “Then I’ll move to Harrison, help you raise our child, and never bother you about loving you again.” But losing her again is not an option.

  “Okay,” she whispers.

  “Okay.” Crisis averted, I decide to drop the conversation. There’s just too many damn people in here ear-hustling.

  Malisa takes two steps inside the room then sinks into an armchair with a throne back. “Oh thank you, Jesus. Now what else needs to be done for the wedding and reception? I’ll take Blake’s spot in helping since he needs to spend time with Astrid and secure her in the family for me. Uh, I meant for him.”

  Apollo gets to his feet from the chair sitting catty-corner to Malisa’s, and steps into the aisle between them that Malisa and Astrid used to reenter the room, getting ready to put his foot down. “Nuh huh, my Lisa. I’m worried as hell about your blood pressure. It goes up whenever you stand up. The only standing you should be doing is when we say I do, and you know I’m right.”

  She sighs. “You’re right, Apollo, but where’s the helium tank and balloons you were supposed to bring to me while I was sitting?”

  He groans. The rest of their discussion gets lost when Astrid’s mouth becomes all I can see. It’s impossible to look at it and not want it molded to mine. I move in for a stolen kiss, but the softness of her lips is enough to steal my right mind. The room shrinks to just her and me. I stand rigid, afraid to move, with my mouth pressed to hers, wanting more but satisfied with what I can get until she chooses to disrupt the fragile connection.

  A soft moan emanates from her. Her tongue pushes at the slit in my lips that open, allowing her inside immediately. I let her set the pace, whether our tongues will battle or dance together. She chooses to tango, slowly, until my jeans are a prison for my erection again, her essence coating my insides. Chests rising and falling fast, soundless music dies an unhurried death as the kiss winds down so we both can surface for air.

  “Shit, Blake, we weren’t supposed to do that again,” she whispers, while staring up at me with the windows of her soul unguarded.

  Distance is what she wants. Proximity and the pull of her attraction is keeping her orbiting too closely to me. She’s not happy about it.

  I mesh our foreheads together and weld my palms to hers. “Well, I was going for a quick ‘seal the deal of you staying for the month’ peck. You started the mouth wrangling.”

  Raised voices emit from Uncle Luke’s den, snagging both of our attention. The living area is completely empty, oddly. It’s still not settled who is going to take over my duties. Astrid giggles at the amount of conversations that’s taking place in one room simultaneously.

  “They’re going to kill each other if you don’t help. We’ll have the reception to talk… I think.”

  I laugh. “Yes, they can hover like helicopters, and they’re going to kill each other anyway, but they recognize and respect crucial moments when a couple needs to be left alone too. No one will mind if I spend time with you. That’s what I really want to do, and there’s only a few more things that need to be done for the wedding. They should be able to handle it.”

  She smirks. “I wouldn’t want to take you away from your family on Malisa’s special day, and I really don’t have anything to wear to a wedding or reception. This casual dress and flip flops make it seem like I popped up at the last minute and got an invitation for the occasion. Well, I did, but—”

  “Oh no ma’am,” Malisa says from the doorway of the den that she’s suddenly standing sideways in, hovering. “
I got you covered, Astrid. My cream romper for the reception should fit you just fine, but stop feeling like you’re underdressed. My wedding dress is made on the same style as the one you’re wearing, and it’s comfortable enough for me to wear until I get to the hotel. Whoever doesn’t like either dress can go to you know where, and I’ll be in flats the whole time. No fancy shoes for me either, but I’m going to warn you that you better talk to Blake while you can afterwards because he’s not going to make it to tomorrow. He’s kept the best thing that ever happened to him from me.”

  “Well, I knew someone wasn’t going to make it,” I grumble, officially a dead man standing who’d predicted his own demise without knowing it.

  Apollo appears behind Malisa, smiling. “Blake, I wasn’t going to have one, but would you like to be my best man today? It looks like you’re going to need practice standing in front of a preacher and you already have the outfit.”

  Astrid shifts her weight from one foot to the other, as if she’s quietly panicking that I might drop down on one knee any minute now. A proposal will leave my mouth at some point, but not yet. It’s her that’s not ready for me now, and there is no rush for her to be. I squeeze her fingers, hoping I’m reassuring her that everything will work at the speed that she wants our lives to go for here on out.

  Malisa claps her hands happily and lands a smack of her lips under Apollo’s chin, again. I look down at Astrid, who nods her approval. If I thought for one minute she’d feel uncomfortable sitting by herself with guests she doesn’t know, I wouldn’t say yes to Apollo, but she’s mostly fearless when it comes to the unknown. Hasn’t met one person that she can’t make love her. Apollo, on the other hand, has astonished the hell out of me with his request. We didn’t get off on the right foot when he followed Malisa home at the beginning of this year. He has proven himself though, and I’ll be glad to stand beside him.

  “I’d be honored to be your best man, Apollo, but I don’t have a speech prepared.” Their wedding is supposed to be a humble family and close friends’ affair without the extra hoopla, which doesn’t explain why the immediate family is required to wear formal gear.

  If I was as smart as I think I am, I’d have asked why I was being fitted for a suit a week after he proposed.

  Apollo walks over and whacks me on the back. “You can wing it.”

  Astrid shakes her head. “You don’t want him to do that. There’s no telling what he’s going to say, with lots of f-bombs and other four letter words in his speech.” It’s the truth.

  Apollo glances back at Malisa, who has a stricken look on his face. Her head swivels around to Mama O, who’s perching on the edge of Uncle Luke’s recliner in his man-cave. She rubs the bottom side of her chin and transfers her gaze to Pops, who’s sitting in the chair. He looks down at his hands, examining his nails.

  Apollo’s wide-eyes return to me. “Okay, I’ll give the best man speech at the reception then. You can help finish putting up the equipment as a substitute.”

  My mouth falls open as I pretend to be shocked at his decision. “I’ve never felt so dissed. It’s because I’m white and adopted, isn’t it?”

  “The truth is supposed to set you free, Blake,” ejects out of Malisa’s smiling lips as she waddles over, to lean against Apollo.

  I shake my head then grin. “Yes, it does, Lisa Poo… right after it stabs you through the heart.”

  However, I’m completely fine with not having to come up with pretty words on the fly that are supposed to be sentimental enough to make people sob. Well, someone would, but it’ll be from embarrassment. Curse words will surely fly out my mouth as soon as I breach the two-drink limit.

  ********

  A few hours later

  A curving runner of red carpet leads up to the designated place for Malisa’s and Apollo’s vows. An enormous pointed Roman arch, with attached curved extensions that’s needs four widely-spaced colonnades to rest on, stands over my head and Apollo’s, along with the preacher’s. He’s separated from us by a short banister created from fat, stubby posts. Each piece of the arch-system is extremely heavy, and a bitch to set in place. Especially when I must contend with six different female opinions from my aunts, Mama O, and the wedding planner—everyone had a different way they wanted everything placed.

  It’s not shocking that I got stuck dealing with all of them, climbing a ladder, and the heavy-lifting when the men with their feet planted firmly on the ground needed to position the columns that holds up the arch correctly. Who gets the most hazardous duty of equipment erection is decided by Mama O and Pops, and whether Apollo will bust his ass falling on his wedding day or not. My bones being the youngest and potentially healing faster than everyone else’s is included in the deciding factor as well.

  As far as I’m concerned, I’d place everything single-handedly if it gets this wedding started that much faster. Fortunately, the only thing left to do at this point is wait for Malisa to walk down the aisle. I’m already tired of only being able to stare at Astrid. I wouldn’t have gotten the opportunity to do that if I’d lost the argument between Malisa and I, which took place through Uncle Luke’s bedroom door. While they were getting dressed, Malisa made her demands for Astrid to sit on the bride’s side of course, but I want Astrid where I can see her.

  To get my way, all I had to do was start complaining about being white and adopted. When I vowed that I wasn’t letting Astrid out of my sight until she knew how I felt about her, I meant it. That includes not letting her out of my sight until she feels the same way I do too, if I can help it. Too bad I can’t use the same complaint of my race and rank in the Owens clan to get her to love me back.

  One side of her lips coated in more gloss, which I plan to kiss right back off again, lift in an edgy, crooked smile as she knots her fingers tightly in her lap. Subtle hints of tension. I’d go to her and soothe whatever’s worrying her, but a soft breeze carries the sound of the golf cart’s quiet engine around the shrubbery beside Astrid. Pops got the cushy responsibility of driving Malisa to the far end of the carpet, which she’ll follow to her new beginning with Apollo.

  Finally, the show is about to begin.

  Then I inhale two nostrils full of pollen, sneeze, and give a nasty look to the bushes that are concealing Malisa from her guests. Astrid and Apollo’s mother, Sienna, put their heads together and snicker quietly at my expense. Sienna seems to be the only woman here that’s laidback. I guess she would have to learn to be, to survive losing Apollo to the shady childcare system in his birth city. His father would die before they could find their only child who’ll be a successful businessman, when information of his only living relative finds the light of day.

  The Wedding March begins to play, thank God. I sneeze again and have visions of chopping down the damn shrubbery when Natalia’s and Uncle Luke’s backs are turned. Astrid laughs a little louder, probably reading my mind. Maybe I should leave the bushes alone. If my allergies make her feel comfortable enough to keep her from bolting down the aisle like she’s a runaway bride, I’ll sneeze all day.

  Malisa and Pops finally emerge on the runner, arm in arm. I huff with relief. Apollo breathes in deeply then touches the corner of his eye.

  Oh my God, he’s going to cry!

  I didn’t sign up for comforting a grown ass man sobbing while filling in as his best man. Still, I reach up and pat his back awkwardly. I think that’s what a best man is supposed to do. If it isn’t, Apollo is screwed. I don’t have expertise in this area, and at this point, I don’t want any. I have enough problems just dealing with my own emotions.

  Malisa grins wide enough at her husband-to-be for anyone to see her smile a mile away. Really, it’s only thirty yards away, so I’m practically blinded by her happiness. What would it take to get Astrid to smile at me like that? Apollo distracts me from my thoughts when he rushes forward, to reach Malisa before she can turn the corner and parade down the aisle.

  “Man, what are you doing?” I yell after him.

  No weddin
g that I’ve ever attended required the groom to meet the bride, cancelling out some of her time to shine. Apollo doesn’t even look back. I think he only sees Malisa and their unborn children.

  Definitely can’t miss the babies.

  He offers her his arm. She shoves her bouquet through the space between his bent elbow and body. The guests and I stand and watch them take their precious time getting back to the starting point for Apollo, who’s eyeballing Malisa instead of watching where he’s going. Since she’s staring at him too, I’m pretty sure Pops is walking… it’s more like he’s guiding them both down the aisle.

  If Apollo’s plan is to get her to the alter quicker, it fails epically. Maria, the wedding planner who’s dressed in yellow and stilettos that aren’t made for outdoors, hangs back behind the last row on the bride’s side, shaking her head, which probably hurts. The bottle-blond topknot looks like it’s painful and has her gray eyes stretched back to her ears.

  Yep, she’s definitely irritated.

  The teardrop diamonds in Malisa’s ears swinging ten times for every one step she takes isn’t helping the planner’s disposition—Malisa’s march was way faster in rehearsal. Enough minutes pass for me to make a long mental list of things I need to buy before my son’s birth. The wedding planner checks her watch twice, which incites me to eyeball mine and decide something monumental. Unless Astrid demands it, I’m not having an actual wedding ceremony with all the trimmings. There’s every chance that I’ll lose my composure and rush her on the aisle, too. I’d rather not embarrass myself like that. Although, I doubt if Apollo feels an ounce of shame. Neither would I.