by Maya Banks
Her father closed his own eyes when Beau spoke the last and Ari frowned, realizing this hadn’t come as a surprise to him.
“My father,” he said, with bitter emphasis on the word, “refused and instead sent your birth parents to . . . them.”
Beau pointed at her parents as his words trailed off.
“I’m very glad that he did,” Ari said softly.
She reached up to touch Beau’s jaw, sliding her thumb over the hard cheekbone.
“I would hate to think of us as having been raised as siblings. That would put quite a kink in our relationship, don’t you think?”
And then she groaned.
“Oh my God. Forget I said that. I did not mean it that way.”
“Jesus,” her father muttered, reaching to cover his ears. “There’s only so much a father can take, Ari.”
Her mother was battling a smile and Beau looked baffled, almost as if he’d fully expected her to think he was repugnant because of the kind of man his father was.
“It would indeed put a kink in it,” her mother said with a completely straight face.
“Enough!” her father groaned.
Beau went tense again, and he was studying her father intently.
“There is one thing I’d like to know,” Beau said in a quiet tone.
Since it was obviously directed at her father, he nodded in Beau’s direction.
“You went to see my father the day before he died. Ari would have been around two years old then. Both my father and my mother died the next day. They were murdered.”
Ari gasped because surely . . . No, he couldn’t think . . . Did he think her father had anything to do with his parents’ death?
Her father met Beau’s gaze unblinkingly. “If you’re asking me if I had anything to do with their deaths, the answer is no. I did, however, go to see your father. I went to warn him.”
“About?” Beau prompted.
“About the fact that there were some very discreet inquiries into Franklin’s business dealings. Particularly those involving his funding of CAS—Creative Adoption Solutions. And let me answer your next question before you ask. No, I had no idea at the time that Franklin had anything to do with Ari appearing on my doorstep. There was a note left in her car carrier begging us to take her in and raise her as our own daughter. So we did. It wasn’t until Ari was several months old that we made the move to Houston. When Ari was a year old, Franklin came to see me. To tell me about his role in Ari becoming my daughter. And I’ll be straight with you, son. The son of a bitch tried to blackmail me.”
Beau flinched, but he didn’t look at all surprised by her father’s accusation.
“If he tried to blackmail you, then why would you later warn him?” Beau asked.
Her father signed. “Because he had you. And three other children. He had a family anyone would be proud to have and his children didn’t deserve to suffer because of his sins. I’m just grateful that whoever did the job didn’t also kill you and your brothers and sister.”
“So am I,” Beau murmured.
Ari squeezed Beau’s hand this time, offering him reassurance and comfort. She knew his father wasn’t Father of the Year material but she hadn’t realized just how loathsome he was.
The two men talked a bit further, but the pain was starting to come back, and she drifted, trying to get comfortable on the narrow hospital bed. The doctor still hadn’t come by, so she didn’t know if she required surgery or not.
The idea of having to be off her feet for so long was irritating. But at least she could use her powers to float food and drinks to her. Or maybe Beau would sign up for the role as her personal assistant. The idea had merit. She’d make a very exacting job description for him.
She was about to hit the nurse call button, realizing her pain was only getting stronger, when she heard her name being called. Shaking herself, she looked up to see Beau’s concerned face as well as her parents’.
“Do you need pain medicine, honey?” Beau asked gently.
She nodded.
Beau reached over for the controller that operated the TV as well as the call button and punched it. Her father leaned closer to Ari, placing his hand over her forehead and wiping up and over her hair in a soothing motion.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked gently.
She knew he wasn’t acting about her physical hurts. He was asking if she was okay emotionally after having so many bombs dropped on her in such a short period of time.
She was silent for a moment and then she glanced up at her parents, love for them welling deep, so deep.
“Do you think it’s stupid of me to grieve the deaths of two people I never knew?” she whispered.
Ginger lowered the bedrail and carefully slid onto the edge of the bed so she faced Ari.
“You’ve always had such a huge heart, Ari. I’d be more shocked if you didn’t feel at least some sadness for the deaths of the people who gave you life. I owe them a debt I could never have hoped to repay. The only thing they asked in return for the blessing they gave us was for us to love you as our own daughter, and baby, that’s the easiest promise I’ve ever had to keep. No promise was required because we fell in love with you the minute we laid eyes on you.
“So, no, I don’t think it makes you stupid at all. It makes you human. It makes you the beautiful inside and out daughter we love with all our hearts.”
“Thanks, Mom,” Ari said, emotion thick in her voice. “I love you.”
Her mom leaned over and kissed the top of Ari’s head. “I love you, too, my baby. And you will always be my baby. I don’t care how old you are.”
“Same goes here,” her dad said in a gruff tone.
The door opened and a nurse came striding in, pushing a portable cart that held the computerized record keeping as well as meds and instruments for checking vitals. Ari’s mom and dad backed away from the bed to give the nurse access to Ari’s IV port.
After checking all her vitals, the nurse drew out a syringe already filled with medication, swabbed the port site and then injected the pain medicine into the IV line.
Ari felt the uncomfortable burn of the medication as soon as it hit her bloodstream and continued up her arm until it reached her shoulder, at which point the burn dissipated and a nice, warm, floaty feeling assailed her.
She vaguely remembered her last encounter with pain medication and she hadn’t lasted more than a few minutes before she’d sunk into oblivion. This time she wasn’t ready to float away. She’d only just gotten her parents back. She’d only, just hours before, experienced the euphoria of knowing Beau was alive. She didn’t want to give them up, even for a minute.
Blinking furiously, she fought the effects of the drug, frowning with concentration.
“Stop fighting it, honey,” Beau said in a tender voice.
“Don’t want you all to go,” she fretted.
He kissed her forehead, placing his palm on top of her head.
“We’ll be here. We’re not going anywhere.”
“Promise?”
He stroked his thumb down her cheek and then to the dimple in her chin.
“Promise.”
FORTY
BEAU sat in the darkness of Ari’s room, elbows propped on his knees, his hands wearily covering his face as he scrubbed his eyes to stay awake. He refused to go to sleep and miss the opportunity to speak to Ari—alone. Gavin had taken Ginger to a nearby hotel so Ginger could rest after her ordeal.
He couldn’t go another day, hour or minute without knowing if he had a future with Ari or not. Whether she felt for him all that he felt for her.
He couldn’t help but swell with pride, his male ego stroked that he’d been her first lover. And her last if he had anything to say on the matter.
His head shot up when he heard her stir and then emit a soft groan. Immediately sliding to the edge of the chair he’d positioned at the head of her bed, he lifted her hand and twined their fingers together.
“How are yo
u feeling, honey?”
Another sigh.
“Hurts.”
“Let me call the nurse.”
“No,” Ari protested. “Not yet. It just knocks me out and so all I’ve done is sleep. Between the anesthesia taking forever to wear off and the pain meds, I feel like a zombie.”
Beau could understand, and if he were honest, he was glad she was refusing the medicine, at least until he got to have his say. Hopefully she’d put him out of his misery so he could start breathing again.
She’d been taken to surgery the morning after she’d been brought into the hospital and she’d been out of it that entire day and well into the next until dusk had descended, heralding the coming night.
For the next six weeks she’d wear an awkward cast that encased her hip and was completely inflexible. It was like wearing a block of cement. Or so she’d grumbled to him.
“I love you,” he said starkly.
Ari’s startled gaze found his and he groaned, lowering his head to smack his forehead repeatedly with his palm.
“Fuck,” he muttered. More slapping. “That was smooth.” More thudding his head against his palm. “Jesus, I’ve been waiting for this moment. I’ve wanted this moment. With you. I’ve imagined it in my head a million times. It’s all I’ve thought of. And when I finally get to the big event, the one where I tell you that you’re my entire fucking world and that I don’t want to live my life without you I freeze up, and all I can manage is three words with no preamble, no context, no buildup.”
He sighed, a mournful, disgusted sound.
“I’m so sorry, Ari. I completely fucked this up.”
She smiled, her eyes lighting up like he’d just laid the world at her feet. Was it possible she returned his love? That she had the same dreams and desires he did?
“It may not have been the most eloquent declaration in the world, but it was utterly perfect,” she said in a dreamy, satisfied voice. “I mean who can argue with phrases like ‘You’re my fucking world’ and ‘I don’t want to live my life without you’?”
She patted the space beside her on the bed. “Come here.”
He leaned farther toward her and then, as her mom had done that first visit, he carefully slid his ass onto the edge of the bed, ensuring he didn’t jostle her in any way. And then his eyes narrowed, but not before she saw stark vulnerability reflected in them.
“Do you have something you’d like to say to me?” he asked pointedly.
She nearly laughed, but he looked too close to being sick for her to tease him. She could swear he was sweating.
She crooked her finger at him, making him lean farther and farther until their faces were mere inches apart. Then she slid her arms loosely around his neck and pulled him into her kiss.
“I love you too,” she whispered
He immediately sagged, closing his eyes. He rested his forehead against hers, his breaths coming in ragged bursts over her chin. He lifted his hand to caress one side of her face, sliding his fingers around and then thrusting upward into the thick mass of her hair.
“Thank God,” he whispered back. “Thank God. I thought I was flying solo on this one and it wasn’t a pleasant thought at all.”
He gave her a light smooch, peppering tiny kisses along the entire arch of her mouth.
“Will you marry me?”
“Hmm, that depends,” she said, waiting for his reaction. He was going to kill her because he was sweating bullets and she was teasing him mercilessly.
“On what?” He sounded outraged.
She waggled her free hand at him. “The ring, of course.”
He chuckled, shaking his head. “I think I can manage a ring. Now, if I promise to deliver the perfect ring, will you marry me? Please?”
“I’m a sucker for please,” she grumbled.
“Wish I’d have known that sooner,” he said dryly.
“Yes, I’ll marry you, Beau,” she said, suddenly growing more serious. “I can’t imagine not being with you now. I don’t want to imagine it or live it. I dearly love my parents, but I had already moved out on my own, even if I was more dependent on them than I liked.”
“I’ll build the most fucking amazing house you’ve ever seen,” he vowed.
“How many kids, er-um, bedrooms will we need?”
His eyes narrowed for a moment, almost as if he were trying to ascertain whether she was yanking his chain again.
“How many do you want?” he asked, turning it around on her.
“At least four,” she said, a contented smile on her face as she imagined a house full of children. Her parents visiting their grandchildren. Watching her children wrestle with their father on the floor.
He lifted his eyebrows. “Four, huh. Sounds like I have a lot of work to do.”
Her mouth dropped open. “A lot of work you have to do? What the heck does a guy do except get a really good orgasm? The woman carries the baby around for nine months and . . .”
She broke off and then glared at him when she realized he was merely dishing it back at her and yanking her chain. “Just for that, you draw diaper duty for the first nine months to offset the nine months I carry them around inside me.”
She sent him a smug look that dared him to top that.
His features softened, and a warm smile lit his face. “When will you marry me? Or maybe I should ask how soon will you marry me?”
She could feel herself softening just as he’d done. Her heart contracting under his bone-melting smile.
“As soon as my cast comes off,” she said, looking down in disgust at her plaster-covered hip and thigh. “I want a wedding, honeymoon, the entire shebang, and I can hardly enjoy any of that with my clunky cast on.”
Joy flooded her heart, bursting like fireworks as the implications of their oh-so-casual conversation really hit her.
“You love me,” she said in wonder. “And you want to marry me.”
She stared at him in utter bewilderment. And then she promptly burst into tears.
Beau was horrified, frantically scrambling for tissue and then tilting her chin up so he could wipe the tears from her face.
“Ari, what’s wrong?” he demanded.
“I’m happy,” she said with a sob.
He scowled. “You have a damn funny way of showing it. You just scared about a decade off my life. Okay, we have to establish some ground rules for this relationship right now. Starting with you never being able to cry, because the sight of you crying, even happy tears, scares the ever-loving hell out of me. And manipulating me with them now that you know what they do to me.”
She laughed and wiped at her tears, trying to keep more from falling. Then she gave up, facing him, her hands extended outward for his. He clasped them firmly in his warm, strong grasp and gently squeezed.
“I love you,” she said, tears still glistening on her eyelashes.
He gazed at her, returning love glowing like a beacon in his eyes. “Promise me you’ll never leave me,” he said hoarsely. “Promise me you’ll love me forever. Stay with me forever.”
“ ’Til death do us part,” she murmured. “I’ve at least got that much down.”
He smiled. “Yeah, believe it or not, I paid attention at Caleb and Ramie’s wedding. Or at least to the good parts. ’Til death do us part’ is right up there with ‘to love and cherish.’ Because, Ari, I will cherish you. All the days of my life. You’ll be the most pampered, spoiled and adored woman in existence.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Ari said thoughtfully. “My dad may have the market cornered on pampering, cherishing, et cetera. It’s kind of embarrassing to see my badass father make a complete wuss of himself over my mother.”
He scowled again. “Is that a challenge I hear? When it comes to taking care of my woman, there is nothing remotely embarrassing about doing whatever it takes to make her happy—to make her smile.”
“Glad you think so. I admit, watching my parents makes me jealous sometimes. I never dreamed I’d have what they have,” s
he said softly.
“Just wait until our wedding,” he vowed. “Then we’ll see who does the most spoiling.”
“I want my parents there,” Ari said wistfully. “I want my father to give me away. I want my mother to see me in my dress. To help me with my hair and give me marriage and wedding night advice.”
He looked horrified. “Of course they’ll be there. What would make you think any differently? And really, Ari. Wedding night advice? Have I not shown you I’m more than capable in the wedding night department?”
She looked laughingly up at him. “Maybe I was thinking more about advice for me. And well, as far as the wedding goes, I wasn’t at all certain you weren’t going to haul me out of the hospital and to Vegas or something so we got married more quickly.”
“It’s tempting,” he mused. “But your mother would kill me.”
“And not my father?”
Beau laughed. “He’s a man, honey. He’d probably buy our airline tickets if I even mentioned eloping. Hell, he might even buy us our own plane. We hate wearing suits and monkey tails, remember?”
She rolled her eyes. “Whatever.”
Then her expression went soft and serious and she shifted as much as she was able to free up a small area beside her on the small bed. He knew without her saying what she wanted.
Gingerly, he maneuvered his big body against hers, carefully lifting her head so he could position one arm underneath her head, the other free to roam and caress the rest of her body.
“You think you can live with my powers?” she asked quietly.
He went still and then leaned back just enough that he could see her face. With his fingertips, he nudged her chin up so her gaze connected with his.
“I love you, Ari. Everything that makes you who you are. Everything about you. And if you come equipped to ward off an entire third-world nation’s army then I guess I won’t ever have to worry about getting my ass handed to me.”
Her eyes sparkled in the low light of the hospital room as she reached up to trace her fingers down his jawline.
“Having this cast on sucks,” she said huskily. “But I guess it’ll make our eventual wedding night all the more sweeter.”
“Honey, I hate to be the one to break it to you, but after six weeks with you and no sex my balls will be so blue that I give myself thirty seconds tops inside you before I have the mother of all premature ejaculations.”
She leaned up to nibble on his chin, eliciting a soft rumbling groan from his chest.
“My cast may knock me out of the orgasm game awhile, but I don’t see why you should suffer. There’s nothing wrong with my hands—or my mouth,” she finished with a throaty purr.
“Have mercy,” he rasped. “You’re killing me here, honey.”
“Mercy?” She laughed. “I can assure you, Beau. Mercy is the very last thing you’ll want from me over the next several weeks.”
Damn if she didn’t prove to be right about that.
