Ireland
The car ride was the quietest one I had ever experienced in my life—so quiet that I fell asleep against Jensen. Our hands linked as one, smelling him next to me, it was easy to relax enough to drift off. No different than I had found myself every night in bed since we met, minus a brief time when I packed up my things to move in with him. I hoped that the revelation wouldn’t change things between us. It would be a shame if we went our separate ways because we had fallen into a trap that wasn’t really set or known.
We thought we were being naughty, rebellious children going against our parents’ wishes and making our own way in marital life. The joke was on us! How could we meet? No one could’ve set it up. Montana and I had gotten bumped from our original hotel—we never even told my parents where we were staying until we got it all worked out with crazy complimentary services.
Jensen wasn’t any wiser about me. He didn’t know who I was and he didn’t come onto me—I approached him in the pool. Maybe we should’ve questioned the fact that we both had parents that were arranging marriages for us. His fiancée was foreign, I remembered him mentioning that so why would I connect the dots.
“Ireland, we’re home, baby.” Jensen’s voice was so soft and loving—he’d never called me baby. I took that as a good sign as I followed him out of the car and up the front stoop of our brownstone. Our brownstone…he had told me that his parents had wanted him to sell it and to buy a new place for us—but not the “us” that they thought—and he refused but gave in to a few remodeling upgrades.
Walking straight into the kitchen for a glass of water, I looked at everything in a different light. It was the kitchen that a married couple would cook in together and the little nook in the corner next to the door to the backyard was where their children would eat their cereal before going off to school every morning. Drinking a cold glass of water, I looked out the window over the sink into the darkness of the yard, and imagined a family barbecuing in the summer…picking fresh vegetables from the garden.
I was so focused on my own thoughts that I had not realized that Jensen was speaking. I turned my head to the side and looked at him sitting on a stool at the kitchen island nursing a bottle of beer. “Your parents are Americans…not foreigners…you’re not some foreign princess.” I wasn’t sure what that meant at first, but I shook my head.
Why would he expect any of that? And then I remember as I began to sort out conversations in my mind with Jensen in Vegas and what my mother had told me about him. She hadn’t really told me about him per se, but more about his parents and their company vaguely. Things that he told me about his work did not compute. He hadn’t stated any particulars about his so-called new division. He told me that he didn’t want to talk about it because he didn’t want to get his hopes up since he was not holding up his part of the deal. He was hoping for an alternative solution to stay on track and move forward.
“What was the deal, Jensen? Did you ever meet with my parents? No, I guess you didn’t.” I didn’t let him answer…it had been obvious that they were total strangers to him. “What is the dream you were afraid of losing?” I moved to the island and leaned on it to be eye level with him.
“D & D International is a foreign company!?” His voice sounded more like he was questioning me rather than making a statement. “I was supposed to handle clients…foreign clients…or I should say Callum Sports would sponsor them with equipment and ridiculously high monetary contracts.” With a confused look on his gorgeous face, he ran his fingers through his great hair. I wished that he was close enough so my fingers could trade places with his. I hated the island separating us, but we did need to talk through so many issues.
“Novak works on our foreign contracts…he calls me the fluff guy—I dazzle the clients, schmooze the PR companies or whoever we need to get the athletes seen. Novak does the behind the scenes stuff.”
“My parents’ company represents foreign athletes… The company was started by my father’s family in Europe many years ago. That is why they travel so much and have a home in France and a flat in London.” I shook my head realizing that he must’ve only known about their corporate office abroad, which apparently was opening a new division in New York. “You made me think that your company was a chain store for sporting goods.”
“How can you not know about key sporting products with your parents’ involvement in sports…and with athletes?” He reached out to me and took my hand in his, narrowing his lovely eyes at me. “Are you pregnant?”
Which question did I answer first? The easy one or the one that entailed many aspects going all the way back to our wedding night in Vegas. Neither was a great subject to spill, but he already knew that my parents weren’t wild about my business so he shouldn’t be surprised that they would leave me out of their dealings. I keep saying my parents because my mother goes along with my father to events and he keeps her updated with a good portion of his dealings. However, the truth is that my mother is arm candy for my father. She doesn’t go into the office to handle business dealings, she is more of an ambassador of goodwill for which she draws a nice paycheck.
My father is part of the old school where men support women and if they must work, stay out of sports. Over the years I have pointed out that he has had some female athletes as clients and his retort was the same. “I can’t stop women from competing and there are appropriate sports for them to participate in.” I just shook my head and silently laughed as I wasn’t sure if he truly believed that or was taught those words…or it was his way of keeping me out of the business. The very business that he wanted to continue with…my husband’s family.
“My father runs a tight ship and if you remember…my parents don’t believe in my company and have never offered to bring me into the business. They have been willing to give me a portion of profits, but I prefer to make my own money than be given an allowance or have things bought and paid for me.” It was easier to get the parent stuff out in the open. “About the…” I wasn’t sure how to continue and stood up, removing my hand from the warmth of his.
“And?” He stood up and walked around the island to stand right in front of me.
No hiding from him, I looked up into his gorgeous face. “I could be pregnant…I was a virgin that night…not safe because of my cycle.” I hated to talk about my bodily functions, but I needed to explain. “I’ve always had irregular periods, so there might not be anything to worry about…”
“Worry about? I’m not worried, Ireland.” His hands gently gripped my upper arms. “I hadn’t expected us to be parents so soon…I never really thought about it at all. We’ve been so careful since…but I am not worried.” I felt a couple of tears roll down my cheeks. “Why haven’t you taken a pregnancy test? I’m assuming that you haven’t yet since you aren’t sure. And drinking coffee and wine…champagne tonight—”
I was quick to let him know that I would never do anything to harm our possible baby. “—only a sip tonight. Only decaf coffee. And one glass of wine here and there is fine according to articles online… I haven’t taken a test yet. I bought a couple a few days ago, but they are still in a bag under the sink in our bathroom.” I bit my lip not knowing whether I should suggest we run upstairs and try one or… Truly, I didn’t know what to do at that very moment. Part of me just wanted him to rip my clothes off along with his own so he could lift me up on the counter and make me his—to prove that he still wanted me…still wanted us.
It was like he read my mind or that I pleaded aloud for him to take me right there on the spot because the next thing I knew his clothes were coming off quickly and my dress was following suit, landing on the floor. Our hands were flying to grip each other while our mouths and bodies were colliding frantically like we had never had sex before…like we couldn’t get enough of each other. There was a desperate need to be one…a whole with no separations…no way to tell where we weren’t united…together perfectly.