Everything I Want

by MacMillan, Jerica

  Sarah tries to shush him while cutting a nasty glare in Sam’s direction. Sam either doesn’t notice or makes the conscious choice to ignore her.

  But really? It’s not Sam’s fault that Maddie wants cookies. Mom’s the one who promised cookies for dessert when we sat down. What four-year-old, or three-year-old for that matter, isn’t going to want cookies as soon as possible?

  So I glare back at Sarah, ratcheting up the palpable tension at our table until I feel fingers sliding over my leg just above my knee.

  I can’t even hide my surprise when I look over at Sam next to me.

  She gives a tiny shake of her head. “Stop it,” she whispers.

  My surprise melts into confusion. “She’s the one giving you dirty looks for no reason.”

  Sam’s cheeks grow pink. “Aaron, please,” she pleads, her whisper a stark contrast to my full volume. She squeezes my knee again. “Let it go. It’s not worth you fighting with your family.”

  I hold her stare, wanting to contradict her. To tell her that she and Maddie are the only family I need, especially if everyone else is going to treat her like shit.

  But I swallow down the words, even though they stick in my throat and make me want to choke.

  My mom asks Eric a question about his job, her tone of voice bright and forced. Sam gives my leg one more squeeze under the table before removing her hand. And as soon as she does, I wish she would put it back.

  She used to touch me as often as I touched her. We’d sit at this table and have dinner with my parents, and sometimes my brothers too, with her hand on my leg under the table the whole time.

  I focus on my plate, ignoring the conversation going on around us, cataloguing how much everything has changed since the last time Sam sat with me at this table. How much we’ve changed.

  My eyes track over to Maddie on Sam’s other side. She’s now poking at her broccoli instead of her chicken, and Hunter’s demanding cookies every other minute, with Sarah and Joey trying to convince him to eat more of his dinner.

  No matter how many dirty looks they try to throw at Sam, there’s no denying that Maddie’s better behaved than my nephew.

  Claire, my two-year-old niece, sits on Maddie’s other side, mimicking Maddie. And I can’t help smiling. Claire immediately decided that Maddie is her favorite person in the world, with Sam a close second. Much to everyone’s chagrin.

  She came in and played with Maddie and her ponies, getting her own stuffed animals from her mom to join the fun. Then she climbed into Sam’s lap and gave her a big hug, leaving her with a stuffed pink elephant to play with.

  Sam was obviously charmed, taking time to talk to Claire and play with her for a few minutes until Claire went back to playing with Maddie. Claire insisted on sitting next to Maddie at dinner, too.

  Claire reaches a hand to pat her mom on the arm. “Mommy. I’m full.” She pats her tummy. “Go play now?”

  Zoey, Eric’s wife, wipes Claire’s hands and drops a kiss on her head. “Sure. Go play. But no screaming, okay?”

  She nods, then turns to Maddie. “Come play, Maddie.”

  Maddie looks at Sam, who hands her a napkin to wipe her face and hands and leans in close to whisper something before straightening and telling her to have fun with Claire.

  The little girls scamper off hand in hand. Soon enough, Hunter’s demanding to be released as well, and his parents let him go, leaving only the grownups at the table.

  We sit there long after everyone’s done, and I’m getting bored listening to Eric moan and groan about how busy this time of year is and how hard his job is. It takes all my willpower not to roll my eyes.

  And when Sam’s hand creeps onto my leg again, I cover it with mine before glancing at her. She offers me a quick smile, and I don’t know for sure if she’s trying to commiserate or be supportive, but that’s how it feels. So I offer her a smile in return, keeping my hand on hers when I turn my attention back to whatever boring story Eric’s still telling and pretending like I wouldn’t rather bang my head on this table repeatedly than listen to him drone on about life as a CPA in a distant suburb of Philadelphia.

  When we finally gather up Maddie to leave, after the kids getting their cookies, of course, it’s amid hugs and fake smiles and even faker suggestions to Sam that we should all do this again sometime soon.

  For her part, Sam plasters a fake smile on her face as well and holds Maddie while she gives halfhearted one-armed hugs.

  Outside, her shoulders sag with relief, but she doesn’t say anything until we get in the car. After buckling Maddie in, she hands me the keys and climbs into the passenger seat, buckles herself, and then lets her head fall back against the headrest, eyes closed.

  I sit and watch her, taking in the way her eyelashes fan over her perfect cheekbones, the graceful line of her throat, and try to quell the urge to lean over and place a kiss right below the corner of her jaw.

  “Why aren’t we moving?” Maddie inquires from the back seat, and Sam’s lips tip up in a smile before she opens her eyes and looks at me, her brows raised in silent echo of Maddie’s question.

  With a smile of my own, I shake my head and start the car, smoothly pulling away from the curb and heading back to Sam’s place.

  “That could’ve been worse,” Sam says quietly after I get onto the main road.

  I spare her a glance. “Seriously? That was brutal.”

  She shrugs. “Do you blame them? You weren’t all that nice to me at first either.”

  That shuts me up. I try to respond or defend myself, but there’s really nothing I can say that doesn’t sound accusatory or stupid.

  She lets out a low chuckle when all I manage is to open and close my mouth a few times and clear my throat. Then her hand finds its way to my leg again, and I stop looking for things to say. “Thank you for trying to defend me, though. It was sweet.”

  I take the time to face her, since we’re stopped at a red light. “I’m sorry if I ever made you feel as awful as they did tonight.”

  She shrugs. “It’s okay. I expected you to hate me when I told you. I’m honestly surprised you aren’t still mad at me.”

  “Why did you?” The light turns green, so I can’t look at her while I ask the question. “Tell me, I mean. You could’ve easily kept it to yourself. Kept her to yourself.”

  She makes a sound in her throat that’s too feminine to be called a grunt, but close enough, and twists around to look in the backseat, her lips pressed together. But Maddie’s breathing is soft and rhythmic, and a glance in the rearview mirror shows that she’s slumped in her car seat, asleep.

  “It was easy to not tell you when you were off being successful and touring and living far away,” Sam answers after facing forward again. “It’s not like I had your phone number anymore. I’d made my decision already, and every time I saw you in the entertainment news it seemed to cement that it had been the right one. You wouldn’t have been able to have that life if you’d stayed with me.”

  “So you knew that I’d want to stay if you told me.”

  She sighs. “Of course I did. Look at you. The minute you found out, you changed your plans and came back here. I know you haven’t spent much time here since your dad died.”

  A stab of pain and guilt lances me at her words, and I grunt in response. “That doesn’t answer why you told me, though.”

  Her hands spread in front of her, palms up. “I wasn’t going to. I didn’t actually know I’d see you that night. My friend Kami surprised me with the tickets, not realizing that we had history. And then she convinced some guy to help me get pulled up on stage when Marcus was searching for someone to serenade.” She shrugs and looks out the window, and her voice is low and hoarse when she continues. “Then you were there, pulling me to the greenroom, wanting to talk, getting me backstage passes that I couldn’t refuse without a good reason. And then …” She swallows, and I can finally look at her because we’re parked in front of her building, but neither of us move to get out of the car.
She keeps her face directed at the window, though. “And then you kissed me,” she whispers. “And wanted to see me again. Catch up. Talk.”

  At last she looks at me, and the lamps filling the parking lot with orange-tinged light pick out the tears lingering on her lower lids. “I’ve missed you the entire time you were gone. Spent my nights wishing I would’ve told you. Trying to convince myself that I’d made the right choice, though. That you were better off without us. And then there you were, making me feel like I was eighteen again, seeming to offer everything I’d been missing for the last almost-five years. And I couldn’t take it. Not without telling you. Even knowing that telling you meant that you wouldn’t want me anymore.”

  Reaching up, I catch the tear that’s managed to escape down her cheek with my thumb, brushing it away. And before I know it, I’m tugging her close, slanting my mouth over hers, claiming it. Claiming her. Because those late nights that she spent convincing herself she’d done the right thing by letting me go, I’d spent wondering where she was and what she was doing. If she’d achieved all the goals she’d set for herself.

  Missing her.

  Comparing every woman I came across to her. And none of them measured up.

  Her fingers wrap around my arm, and she whimpers as she opens for me, her tongue sliding against mine.

  More than anything, I want her. Now.

  Even though I’ll be heading back on tour in a few short weeks, I want whatever time with her I can get. And when I leave, I want to know she’ll still want me when I come back.

  Because I want her for always.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Samantha

  When Aaron asked why I finally told him, I didn’t expect that conversation to end in a kiss. Especially not a kiss like this.

  Hot.

  Hungry.

  Demanding.

  Maddie sighing in the back seat has me pulling back, holding onto his arm while his hand lingers on the back of my head. Licking my lips, still tasting him there, I whisper, “We should go inside.”

  His lust-glazed eyes seem to sharpen on my face, then he nods once. “Right. Yeah. We should.”

  Releasing my head, his chest heaves with a big breath, and then he turns off the car and unbuckles his seatbelt.

  He sends me a sideways grin as he pops his door open. “You coming?”

  Ungh. If that kiss continues inside, yeah, I probably will be soon. But I don’t say that. Instead, I just nod, unbuckling myself and climbing out. He’s at Maddie’s door, carefully undoing her harness and pulling her into his arms to carry her upstairs.

  And if I thought I couldn’t possibly be any more attracted to him, I was wrong. Because the sight of him carefully cradling our little daughter against his broad chest and carrying her up the stairs to our apartment, then sliding her into her bed after I tug off her shoes, has my heart nearly exploding. And my libido jumping up and down and ready to throw myself at him as soon as we pull Maddie’s bedroom door closed.

  At least I’m not alone in that feeling, because he wastes no time pulling me close and sealing his mouth to mine once we’re both in the hallway. He pins me against the wall, but I’m far too conscious of the fact that Maddie’s room is on the other side of a couple sheets of drywall and paltry insulation.

  I give him a shove, and he stumbles back a step, the surprise on his face making me giggle. Then I slide my fingers into his waistband and give a tug, leading him to my room, thrilling in the way his surprise gives way to lust-filled happiness.

  He only lets me take the lead until we get through my door, though, wrapping his fingers around my wrist and pulling my hand free, using his grip to reel me in. Then his mouth is on mine once more, his fingers sliding under my shirt, lifting, breaking the kiss only to pull it over my head before diving in again.

  But there’s still fabric in the way, and from the sound of frustration low in Aaron’s throat, I can tell he’s not happy about it either. I skate the fabric up his sides with my fingers, and he takes over, yanking the shirt over his head and throwing it away like it’s something offensive.

  Instead of resuming our interrupted kiss, he places his hands on my hips and holds me at arm’s length, looking me over in the light from the parking lot slanting through my blinds. And under his examination I’m more aware than ever of how much my body changed after having Maddie.

  I never lost all the baby weight. My belly’s not as flat as it was the last time Aaron saw me naked. And I have stretch marks below my belly button and on my sides.

  But if he can see any of that, he doesn’t seem to mind. His eyes are still glazed with lust. And he mutters, “You’re so fucking gorgeous, Sam. So sexy. God, I’ve missed you.”

  And then he folds me into his arms, and somehow this skin-to-skin hug with only my bra between us seems more intimate than our kiss, more intimate than sex. It’s like our bodies are getting reacquainted with each other as separate entities from our minds.

  We stand there for several heartbeats, holding each other, breathing each other in. Then Aaron’s hands slide down my sides again, his lips running over my forehead and down the side of my face till he’s nibbling my earlobe, placing a kiss under the corner of my jaw, his fingers dipping into all my curves like he’s memorizing the way I feel now. Is he comparing it to how he remembers me? Does he like me better now or before?

  Before my thoughts and fears can run away with me, Aaron maneuvers me around so he can sit on the bed. His hands come up to cup my breasts over my bra before tracing the fabric around to the back. I can’t help grinning at the look of silent concentration on his face as he undoes the hooks one at a time. When he finishes, he meets my eyes, a triumphant smile on his face, and it’s so like when we were teenagers that it steals my breath. His boyish smile, now overlaid by the harder angles of his cheekbones and jaw, the scruff that he didn’t use to be able to grow to save his life.

  The boy I loved is now a man.

  And once again I worry about what this might mean.

  Click.

  I freeze. Aaron freezes, his hands spanning my ribcage in the process of moving … somewhere. My boobs? My waistband?

  I’ll never know, because the next sound I hear is Maddie’s voice. “Mommy? What are you doing?”

  “Um … Daddy’s, uh, helping me get ready for bed?” I don’t mean to make it sound like a question, but since I’ve never been in this situation before, never expected to be in this situation, I don’t know what the hell I’m saying. I make the mistake of glancing down at Aaron, who now appears to be fighting back laughter, his body vibrating from the effort.

  “Is that why you’re not wearing a shirt?”

  “Mmhmm.” I direct my eyes over Aaron’s head at the wall behind him. He still hasn’t removed his hands from me. “Go back to your bedroom, sweetie. I’ll be right there to help you go back to sleep.”

  “Nooo,” she wails. “I’m scared. I want to sleep in your room. Is Daddy staying the night like he did when I was sick?”

  “Ummm …” This time when I glance at Aaron, he’s completely still, his laughter snuffed out, his face serious.

  “Would you like that, Maddie?” he asks, his eyes never leaving mine.

  “Uh-huh.”

  He stares at me, and I give a tiny nod. “Sure, baby girl. I’ll stay the night with you and Mommy.” He starts up, brushing a quick kiss across the top of my shoulder before whispering, “I’ll distract her so you can get into your PJs.” Then he quickly adjusts himself before sliding around me to get to Maddie, and I’ve never been more grateful that I didn’t get a chance to undo a man’s pants before tonight.

  “Do you need a drink of water, baby girl?” And then their voices get quieter as he ushers her out of the room.

  Letting out a big gust of air, I scoop up our discarded clothes and get into the tank top and cotton shorts I wear to sleep in before heading to the bathroom to get ready for bed.

  My body is still humming with denied satisfaction, my nipples
puckered beneath the clingy fabric of my top. I scrub my hands over my face, trying to calm down. But Aaron’s going to be sleeping in my bed.

  Again.

  The last time we ended up cuddled together.

  Is Maddie going to sleep between us? Or will I end up sandwiched in the middle again?

  Aaron’s low voice sings some nonsense song to Maddie, and I poke my head out of the bathroom to see him carrying her to my bedroom. I follow them in, my heart aching as he gently lays her on the bed. I climb in, making the executive decision that I’ll be in the middle, especially since Maddie yawns and snuggles in on her side, her eyes closed, her arm wrapped around the unicorn that Aaron bought her for Christmas. I settle behind her, and soon the bed dips behind me as Aaron climbs in, his arm going around my middle and pulling me tight, his fingers sliding under my shirt to stroke my skin.

  He’s still half-hard, the brief interlude of caring for Maddie not doing much to dampen his arousal either, and as soon as my ass makes contact with his groin, he hardens again almost instantly.

  He lets out a soft groan by my ear and nips at my shoulder. “Do you think we can sneak out to the living room to finish what we started?”

  “Sadly, no.” I turn my head so he can better hear my answering whisper. “If she’s already woken up once, she won’t last longer than maybe a half an hour before waking up again if I’m not with her.”

  He doesn’t say anything, apparently mulling that over. “I can be quick.”

  Biting back a grin, I reach back and pat him on the hip. “That’s not exactly a recommendation.”

  He buries his face in my shoulder, his body shaking with silent laughter, and I try hard to suppress my own, not wanting to disturb Maddie.

  “Good point,” he whispers in my ear after he manages to stop laughing. And he doesn’t miss the way his voice causes goosebumps to ripple down my neck and shoulder, because his lips follow their path. Not a kiss, just a slide of his skin on mine.

  I’d forgotten how tactile he is. Or I haven’t let myself think about it much. Until now.