by Paige Parish
Lacy
I didn’t sleep well the night before. I kept worrying about what I might have done or not done to make Brent cool off about us. Or maybe he’d never been as interested as I’d thought. I couldn’t stop remembering the passion in his eyes though, and the way he’d given me such pleasure and then held me. It didn’t feel like he was playing games. But something had happened after he’d left.
Early that afternoon, he called me and asked if he could come over. I didn’t hear any of the passion he’d held for me before, but I didn’t hear anything in his voice that indicated he’d lost interest either. He’d managed to tell me how much he’d been thinking about how I smelled and tasted, and it gave shivers, even as I worried.
When he arrived, I could tell he’d slept very little as well. And it appeared something big was on his mind. I tried to make sense of the mixed messages he was putting off and failed. I just couldn’t figure out what was going on.
He led me to the couch, and I blushed at the memory of him pulling me on top of him there two nights earlier.
“I know you must be wondering what’s going on,” he finally started.
“Well, it did seem we were really connecting and then . . .” I shrugged.
His brows knit together. “We were . . . we are,” he emphasized. “This has nothing to do with you and me, I swear, but something has happened, and I need to let you know what’s going on. To decide if you still want to be with me. I promise you that I’m still just as ready to make you mine as I was this weekend, but you have to know this before you give yourself to me.”
I shivered with sudden fear.
“Lacy, there’s a possibility that I’m a father.”
Whatever I thought I was prepared for him to confess; this was the furthest away. I blinked. “You . . . what? A father? What do you mean?”
He ran his fingers through his hair and took a long, deep breath. “Before I moved here, I was involved with someone . . . engaged actually. Allie.”
I felt my heart drop.
“I thought I loved her and wanted to spend my life with her, but she broke off the engagement about three years ago and left with very little explanation. And Sunday, she showed up here, at my house, with a little girl . . . Kimmie.”
I saw a grin start to form for only a second before it vanished as he continued. I felt as though I were paralyzed.
“She says Kimmie’s mine . . . that I’m the father, she found out she was pregnant after we broke up and at first wasn’t going to keep it. She says she didn’t want to tell me because she didn’t want to hurt me any more than she already had.”
“Are you sure she’s yours?” I whispered.
He shook his head, never taking his eyes off me. “No, I mean, I don’t know for sure that she’s not. The timing is right. And something made Allie leave. I’d assumed she’d found someone else. She hasn’t denied that so I think it still could be someone else’s, but she did put my name down as the father on the birth certificate.”
I blanched.
“Which doesn’t prove anything,” he continued. “And even if she is mine, this changes nothing about us. There’s nothing left between Allie and me, I swear to you.” He put his hands on mine, and I pulled them away.
“Brent,” I said, swallowing hard, “but don’t you see? This changes everything.” I couldn’t stop the tears as they spilled over. “I told you about Bradley, about how I’d felt about him, about how he hurt me. You never mentioned anything about this . . . this . . . Allie.”
“I know—”
“No,” I continued, “you don’t. You say you have no feelings for her but then why not tell me when I told you about Bradley unless you are not over her. And if this is your daughter, then you and Allie will be tied together forever. She’s going to need you just as much as your daughter does.”
“Lacy—” He reached for me again, and I stood up.
“I know we don’t yet know everything about each other, but this is pretty big to have not told me, especially after I told you.” Blessed anger overtook my hurt, and I asked him to leave. When he didn’t move, I reiterated the command.
After another moment of staring at each other, he dropped his shoulders and went to the door. He looked back at me as he opened it, about to say something, but I ran into the kitchen until I heard the door shut, his footsteps fade away, and finally his motorcycle crank.
Then, I went to my bed and cried for the next hour.
For the rest of the week, I kept myself as busy as possible. Both my mom and Janine checked on me at least once a day. I didn’t hide my grief and anger from them, but I reminded them—and myself—that Brent and I hadn’t gotten started. It was just a couple of dates. And both my mom and Janine shook their heads at me, knowing I was full of shit, knowing what Brent had meant to me.
I knew from experience that it rarely helped to try to force myself to stop thinking about pain and grief. That it was healthier and better for the process if I leaned into it and let myself feel everything as it came. I also knew better than to cut myself off from the brief joy, from imagining the possibility that it might not be over, that perhaps I had acted too harshly, too quickly.
And the more I dwelt on that thought, the more I worried that I’d ruined it, that I hadn’t given him a chance to explain. I wasn’t being sensitive to what he must be going through, learning that he had a child he’d never met had to be chaos in his thoughts and feelings. And I’d made it all about me.
I suddenly felt ashamed.
So, on Friday, I stopped at a shopping center and searched for a little gift to express that I was willing to hear what he had to say if he still wanted to explain and give him the compassion a friend should offer. I hoped and prayed he’d listen to my apology. I raced home, thinking I’d try to call him once I got there and see if we could meet to talk.
But when I turned the corner to my house, I nearly slammed on my brakes. There was a bike sitting in my driveway, and Brent Majors, flowers in hand, was sitting on my porch. I pulled in and grabbed the gift bag before nearly running up to the steps.
“Hi, gorgeous,” he said tentatively.
Before he could speak further, I launched myself into his arms. “I am so so sorry, Brent,” I said. “I should have let you explain. I should have given you a chance. Instead, I acted like a spoiled brat.” Before he could interrupt, I pulled back and put the gift bag in his hand, while I continued, “No, please, please let me apologize before you say anything. I wasn’t hurt because you might have a child. I was hurt that you hadn’t told me about Allie. But I don’t know anything about the relationship, nor do I know that you wouldn’t have told me soon enough. It’s not my place to decide what and when you tell me about the details of your life.” I nodded at the bag. “Something to show you that I’m willing to hear you, that I’m willing to accept your child if that’s what’s to be.”
He grinned and looked at me for a long moment before handing me the flowers and opening the bag. He pulled out a pink teddy bear with a tee-shirt that read, “Daddy’s little angel.” He stared at it for just a moment before dropping the bag and pulling me to him, crushing the flowers between us before I could get them out of the way.
“The flowers,” I squealed against his lips.
“Not important,” he said. “I can get more later.” He lifted me and carried me to the door as if carrying a bride across a threshold. I pulled my keys from my purse, and he leaned me forward to unlock the door
He carried me over to the sofa, but instead of setting me on it, he dropped the teddy bear onto it and urged me to toss the flowers and my purse to it.
“God, Lacy,” he said as he carried me on to the bedroom. “I was so afraid I’d lost you. You had every right to be upset with me.”
I tried to speak, but he hushed me.
“My turn to talk,” he said as he laid me gently on the bed and crouched next to me. He reached his hand to my face and kept his eyes on mine while he gently brushed the hair from
my face.
“First of all, Kimmie’s not mine. Allie seemed surprised at the news. Obviously, she knew there was a possibility I wasn’t the father, but I think she wanted it to be me.” I started to frown, but he ran a finger down my cheek. “Not that she wanted me back. Don’t worry about that. But the birth father was not kind to her. She was afraid of him. I helped her find a safe place to go with her daughter, and we worked with my lawyer to get a restraining order, but she doesn’t expect him to come looking for her, and she doesn’t plan on telling him about Kimmie. I hope she and Kimmie stay safe.”
I nodded, tears in my eyes at the kindness I saw in his. I started again to speak, and he again cut me off, putting this finger on my lips.
“I should have told you about Allie. I didn’t because, frankly, she didn’t seem important and I was so focused on you, she didn’t even cross my mind. I thought she was important to me once upon a time, but from the second, I laid eyes on you, I realized I was more in love with an idea than her. In just the few hours I’ve spent with you, I’ve felt more fulfilled than the three years she and I were together. You took that much space in my heart. I didn’t know it could feel like that. I love you, Lacy. I think I fell in love with you the moment we met.”
“Oh god, Brent,” I breathed. “I didn’t think it was possible to already be in love with you, but I am. I am mind-numbingly yours.”
He leaned down and kissed me gently and then more urgently before pulling back to study me. “So, Lacy, are you sure now? Are you ready for me to make you mine? No turning back after this. I’m going to make you mine completely, body and soul, and I have no intention of letting you get away from me again. Are you forever mine?”
I nodded eagerly. “I’m yours, Brent. All yours.”
He needed no further declaration. He stood and pulled his shirt over his head and began pulling up my blouse slowly, landing kisses along my belly and inching upward, moving my shirt as he went. Then he pushed my arms above my head and pulled my shirt up and off, tossing it carelessly on the floor. He nudged me over and climbed onto the bed, stretching out next to me. Then he leaned over me and cupped my breasts, then placed his face between them and breathed deeply.
“God, Lacy, I could get high on you, just your scent right here.” Then he inched down me and unbuttoned my jeans, pulling them down, along with my panties. “And here,” he added, pressing his face into my pussy and breathing in even more deeply. I was so eager for him, I felt like I was about to erupt. He sat back up and continued to pull off my jeans and panties until I was completely naked, but feeling no vulnerability.
He stared at me for a moment, and I nearly came just from the desire when he said, “Jesus, Lacy, I couldn’t have made you. You are perfect, in every way. As if I’d ordered you from a catalog.”
“Brent, I want you inside me . . . now.”
He smiled devilishly. “Oh, I will be soon. Don’t you worry. I’m about to take this pussy and make her all mine. But you need to be patient. I’m still enjoying just looking at you.” He pulled off his jeans and boxers, and I gulped. He was huge and hard, so hard I felt a moment of panic before he knelt back on the bed and pulled my legs apart, planting himself between my knees.
He leaned forward and took in my scent again, licking me for a moment before bringing his mouth to mine. My pussy pulsed in anticipation, the wetness spreading, and he put his finger at my opening. “Say you’re mine again, Lacy.” He pushed his finger inside, and I arched under him, barely able to believe the pleasure he could bring with such a simple touch. “Say it,” he repeated.
“Yes, yes. I’m yours, Brent. I’m fucking yours.”
He continued to kiss me as he plunged his finger in me over and over, faster and faster, until I burst in his hand and nearly bit his tongue.
He groaned, and I felt his cock hard against my leg, as I came down from my high. He pulled his face back and watched me as I panted. I felt a heat surround my chest and face and a trickle of sweat between my breasts. His eyes moved down my breasts, and he licked the sweat as he pulled his finger from me and brought it to his mouth, sucking my juice from it and sharing it with me. I sucked on his finger until he groaned again, and pushed his dick against my leg, grinding.
Then he rolled and pulled me beneath him, lying on top of me and settling his hips to mine, his hardness between us, pushing into my lips.
Then he breathed in deeply and reached down to guide himself to my opening, where his finger had just performed as an appetizer. I felt his tip as it began to push inside, and I remembered how big and hard he was, and I took in a deep breath, ready to accept him.
He kissed my nose and lips, holding himself still against my heat. He inched further in, and I felt my pussy begin to open more and clamp tight around him. He continued to go slow until it started to drive me mad, and I begged him to give it all to me.
He moaned and put his face into my collar bone as he buried himself deep in me. The soreness I felt was delicious as he began to thrust in and out of me. I had never felt so filled. I clutched at his back and announced I was about to come again. He pushed faster until I nearly screamed, my fingers digging into his ass.
Then he growled. He panted and groaned, and I felt his heat spread through me, pushing me over the edge into yet another orgasm that took me by surprise. I gasped and swore I saw fireworks explode behind my eyelids.
He collapsed gently onto me and continued to breathe hard in my ear before whispering, “I love you, Lacy.”
Tears began to roll down my cheeks as I pulled him tighter into my arms. “I love you too, Brent.”
Before we’d had much time to recover, he was fucking me again and pushing me into ecstasy over and over, until we finally relented and allowed ourselves to relax, exhausted, in each other’s arms.
He kissed the top of my forehead, and I suddenly had a thought. I had no idea where it had come from. “Brent, what are we going to do with that teddy bear now? Now that we know you’re not Kimmie’s dad?”
His eyes sparkled as he looked down at me. “Let’s put it away. We can give it to someone special someday,” he said gently, putting his hand on my stomach.
Understanding, I snuggled deeper into him and allowed myself to find sleep, no doubt that he would be next to me in the morning.
Epilogue
I brought the last box from my buddy Trey’s truck into my new home and stepped into the kitchen where Lacy was adding some of my glasses to a shelf.
“This is the last of my clothes,” I said, setting the box on the kitchen table. My hands-free, I made my way to her and put my arms around her, kissing her neck as she continued to work.
“If you don’t stop that,” she scolded, “I won’t be able to work.”
“That’s the idea,” I murmured against her neck.
We’d barely been dating a month and had spent very little time apart. I hadn’t spent a single night in my own home since we’d started seeing each other. So there was very little discussion when she suggested I move in. At that point, it was apparent that my house was just a waste of rent.
“I got something for you,” I said, nibbling at her ear.
She giggled and turned around to face me. “What is it?” she asked, putting her arms around me to squeeze my ass.
“Do you think you’ve been a good little girl? Do you deserve a present?” I asked, pushing my crotch into her.
She narrowed her eyes. “You have to ask? After last night?”
I laughed and grew hard remembering the night before, on the very kitchen table where I had just put my box of clothes.
“You’re right. You deserve everything.” I kissed her nose and went into the living room to bring in a bag, setting it on the counter next to her.
She lifted it—or tried to. “It’s heavy,” she added and set it back down to get a good look inside. She pulled out one of the boxes and set it aside, then pulled the second one out and set it on the counter next to it. I pointed to the second one and told her to o
pen that one first.
She gasped in delight when she pulled out the pink helmet. On the back, under “Lacy” was written in script, “His.”
“Open the other one now.”
She pulled out a black helmet with my name on it over “Hers.”
“I love them,” she squealed.
“I figured they’d go well with those matching ‘His’ and ‘Hers’ towels we’ll be getting.”
She looked at me, her eyes narrowed, confused.
I reached into my pocket and pulled out the ring, then wiped away her tears. “I assume that’s a ‘yes,’” I said.
She nodded vigorously. “Oh . . . oh . . . Brent, yes, yes, yes.”
I slid the ring on her finger and kissed her tears and then her eyelids. I lifted her into my arms and carried her into our bedroom. “Okay, then, I hope you know I want to have a family.”
“Of course,” she giggled.
“So, let’s get started now.” Then I kissed her over and over, every kiss a promise of what the next day would bring.
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