~ Chapter Twelve ~
Michelle
I felt his eyes on me before I opened mine.
“Do you always watch people in their sleep?” I asked, my eyes still closed.
The low rumble of his chuckle had my nipples tingling already. “Just you, sugar. Just you.”
I peeled my eyes open to see his, and the tingling moved from my breasts, down my abdomen, and into my sensitive folds.
“Did you sleep well?” He reached up and moved a lock of hair that had fallen over my face.
“Yes,” I answered, covering my mouth with my hand.
His brow wrinkled. “What’re you doing?”
“Morning breath,” I whispered.
He laughed and sat up, stripping the covers from our bodies.
“Carter!” I shouted when he lifted me off the bed with such ease. He obviously loved carrying me. “What are you doing?” I returned his question.
“Bathroom. So we can brush our teeth.”
Naked as the day we were born he strutted to the bathroom, and placed me in between the two faucets on the porcelain countertop.
“Two sinks?” I questioned, looking between the faucets.
“His and hers.” He gestured his head toward the sink he stood in front of and then the other one.
“You have his and her sinks?” I questioned, folding my arms over my breasts, anger starting to form in my pit.
His hand paused on the plastic wrapper of the toothbrush he’d been opening. He moved a few inches to stand in front of me, between my legs. He didn’t speak for a long while, instead letting his gaze rove over my face, down my body, and stopping at my breasts. As soon as he did, they began throbbing, aching for his touch again. But I held onto my anger as best I could.
“I had this house built two years ago. And you’re the first guest outside of my family that has ever seen the inside of it.”
I wanted to ask if he was being serious, but I knew what his response would be.
“I had it built for the family I knew I’d have one day. And the only woman I’d allow inside would be the woman I married and gave my name to.” He stared at me so fiercely, so intently that my mouth went dry. I didn’t have a response to his declaration and apparently he didn’t need one. He pressed a quick kiss to my opened lips and stepped back, finished opening the toothbrush, ran it under water, applied the toothpaste, and handed it to me before saying, “Brush your teeth since you’re so concerned with morning breath. I want you to be minty fresh before I take you again right here on this counter.”
I gasped and grabbed the toothbrush from him. I swore I was soaking the ceramic countertop by how wet his statements had just made me.
“Don’t move from this position,” he growled. “Brush.”
I obeyed, brushing my teeth, all the while him staring at me as he did the same. He handed me a glass of water and I rinsed my mouth. And true to his word, he took the used toothbrush from me, tossing it aside, moved in between my legs, and unwrapped another foil wrapper. He slipped the condom on his veiny shaft just before nudging my knees apart, and he claimed me again in the bathroom.
“What would you like for breakfast?” he asked as we descended the stairs a little while later. I wore the shirt he’d donned the night before, while Carter had on a pair of jogging pants and nothing else.
“You have food?” I questioned, snarkily, which earned me a smack on my ass. “Ouch!”
“Come here, lemme kiss it,” he insisted when I yelped and rubbed my backside.
“I had to ask. No way you have no furniture but have a refrigerator full of food.”
“I got anything you want. And whatever I don’t have, we can have ordered.”
He guided me to the open kitchen area. He picked me up yet again and sat me on the granite counter of the kitchen island. He moved from me to the large, metal double doors of the refrigerator, pulling it open. I was delighted to find that it was filled with groceries.
“I don’t need furniture to feel at home but I do need good food.”
I frowned. “I thought you said you didn’t like cooking?”
“I said I don’t like cooking for myself. I do it when I have to but I much prefer cooking for others.”
“I stand corrected.” I smiled.
He turned to look at me over his shoulder. “I love a woman who can admit when she’s wrong.”
My belly did backwards somersaults. That was the second time he’d mentioned the word love in less than twelve hours.
“Careful with that L word. Say it too many times and I might get used to it.” I almost said, I might believe it, but I already did. This man didn’t lie to get what he wanted from women.
“You might as well get used to it, sugar. You’ll be hearing it a lot more from here on out.”
He turned back to the fridge and I hungrily watched the contoured muscles of his back flex and ripple with even the slightest movements of his. Unlike his chest, his back didn’t hold any tattoos but his arm did. From what I was able to make out, it had something to do with the army.
“How about I prepare my world famous banana French toast? Do you eat sausage?”
“Sure do. And what’s so world famous about your French toast?”
“Because only a select few have ever gotten me to make it for them. Very few people outside of my family, my best friend, Andy, and my brothers down at the station house have had my French toast. It’s famous for being so secretive.” He gathered all the ingredients, placing them on the counter next to me.
“Can I help?” I offered.
“You are helping.”
“I’m just sitting here.”
“Exactly. Your beautiful face and tousled hair is all the inspiration I need.”
I laughed. “That makes no sense.” But I wasn’t about to argue any further. I fixed breakfast for a very picky six-year-old boy every morning. A break from cooking was well in order.
“You want to help. Tell me about Diego.”
My eyebrow raised. “My son?”
He nodded, staring down at the bowl he was now mashing up two overripe bananas in. “You said he’s the most important thing in your life. Tell me about him.”
My heartstrings tugged at the thought of my little boy. “I was twenty-three when he was born, and from the day he entered this world he’s been the center of mine.”
He glanced up at me with smiling eyes and I felt safe enough to continue.
“He was the sweetest baby. Only crying when he was really hungry or needed to be changed. He’d go to just about anybody.” I laughed. “He’s still like that today. He’s never met a stranger. He’s in the second grade and does well in all his classes, but the only common complaint from teachers since he was in preschool, was that his teachers can’t get him to stop talking.” I grinned, shaking my head. “Earlier this school year, I went to a parent-teacher conference and the teacher complained about his talking. I asked Diego about it and he said ‘It’s not my fault, Mama. Michael's new to our school and didn’t have any friends. I just wanted him to feel welcomed.’ How am I supposed to get mad at that?”
“You got me there. I hope you took him out for ice cream.”
I giggled. “I actually did. He’s so sensitive, and wants everyone to feel included. My sweet boy.”
“He sounds like a good kid.”
“He’s the best. Except when he insists I make his blueberry pancakes and eggs every morning for his breakfast.”
“Every morning?” Carter moved to the other side of me, placing a pan on one of the eye’s of the stove.
“Yup.” I nodded. “He will only eat my blueberry pancakes and eggs. Homemade by the way. He refuses anything from the box. And I have to pack his lunches every morning because he will only eat peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, cut into triangles, that have been made by Mom or Grandma. He insists on fruit with his lunch, but it has to be cut up, no matter what type of fruit. Even his grapes must be cut in half.”
“He sounds like a riot,” he laughed, flipping the first two slices of French toast.
“That smells delicious.” I nodded at the pan.
“It’ll taste even better.”
“I bet it will.”
Our eyes caught and before I knew it, Carter was in front of me, taking his fill of my lips before moving back to the stove. I licked my lips, savoring the kiss that hadn’t lasted long enough.
“What about his father?”
My body froze, a thread of fear moving down my spine. I’d almost forgotten about Gabriel. I wished I could forget all about him. I turned back to Carter’s whose eyes were on the stove. I was sure he’d missed my bodily reaction at the mention of Diego’s father.
“He’s not in the picture. Not really.”
He dredged another slice of bread through the banana and egg mixture before placing it into the hot pan. He lowered the temperature of the stove’s eye before turning fully to me again.
“He’s not around?”
I swallowed and took a sip of the bottle of water he’d given me earlier.
“Not regularly. He’s been inconsistent.”
“Does he provide financial support?”
“Some.” And by some, I meant only paying for Diego’s school expenses, but that was enough for me. Excelor Academy was the most expensive and exclusive school in the city.
Carter’s jaw tightened, as if he was grinding his teeth together.
“Breakfast is almost done, looks like,” I stated, infusing my voice with excitement. I was ready to get off the subject of Gabriel.
“Taste test first,” he said before cutting a piece of one of the pieces of bread. He brought it over to me on a fork, holding it up in front of my mouth. “Open.”
My jaw slackened, falling open at his command. He slid the fork into my mouth, pulling it out slowly once my lips had clamped down around it. I chewed, relishing the sweet taste of banana and the delightfully soft texture of the French toast. By the time I swallowed, I was ready for my next bite, and Carter was waiting to feed me again.
I ate my entire breakfast on that kitchen counter ― Carter feeding me forkful after forkful of French toast, sausage, and some fruit he’d cut up. I don’t even remember him eating himself, instead he seemed to be satiated from watching me eat. It was the best meal I’d had in a very long time.
****
Carter
“How come you parked your car in the driveway?”
I peered over at Michelle’s wet body, still wrapped in a towel from the shower we’d taken together. She sat on the edge of the bed, rubbing her body down with moisturizing cream. I, once again, made a silent note in my head to send her mother a bouquet of flowers for agreeing to keep Michelle’s son until that evening. I’d asked her to remain with me for the rest of the day and thanks to her mom, she agreed.
“Carter,” her voice snapped my attention back to her face.
“Sorry, sugar. I get lost looking at you.”
She rolled her eyes but the smile that broke out on her face said what she was really thinking.
“What’d you ask?”
“I asked how come you parked your car in the garage.”
“Oh. ’Cause my garage is reserved for my real vehicle.”
She frowned.
“Finish dressing and I’ll show you.” I threw a dark T-shirt over my head and a pair of faded jeans. We had plans to go see a movie. I was doing my best to be a gentleman and not keep her in bed all day, her legs locked around my waist. But that’s what I really wanted to do.
A few minutes later, we were headed to my garage through the mudroom. I opened the door and took her hand.
“Watch your step,” I said, gesturing toward the three concrete stairs that led to the main garage space. In the middle sat my second favorite baby. Obviously, my Ducati had moved to number two on my list since Michelle came along.
“Whoa,” she stated. “That’s a serious motorcycle.”
I grinned. “She gets parked in the garage. The Yukon remains outside,” I stated, answering her question from earlier.”
“You’re such a guy.” She giggled when I pulled her to me, encircling her waist.
“What’s that mean?”
“It means you’re such a guy. You have no … practically no furniture,” she corrected herself. “And two very up-to-date vehicles. The cost of one of which could probably furnish this entire home.”
“Probably,” I agreed. “But I’m not a guy. I’m a man. A man who waited for the right woman to come along to even think about furnishing any part of my home. I wanted this place to be hers as much as it is mine.”
Her shoulders sagged a little, and she lowered her face to my chest. “When you say things like that …” She trailed off.
“What? You believe me?”
She sighed but remained silent for a long while. My hands tightened around her waist. I was doing my absolute best to hold back. Yes, it was very early in our relationship but my instincts never lied. They’d saved my ass more times than I could count. And I was a Townsend. My father had told all of his sons that Townsend men just know when they’ve met the right one. We were laser focused in that area. I hadn’t paid him much attention when I was younger, but since the first time I’d met Michelle, she’d made a believer out of me. I’d pursue her with more intensity than I had when joining the army or fighting fires.
Her head popped up from my chest. “Let’s go for a ride.” Her eyes were wide with anticipation.
“We’ll miss the movie, sugar.”
She shrugged. “There’ll be other movies. Please.”
My knees damn near buckled at the sight and sound of her pleading. I was a strong man. Fuck that, I felt damn near indestructible most days, having survived countless close calls, but a short plea from her and the mere idea of denying her whatever she wanted was unfathomable.
I withdrew my hand from her waist and reached to the nearby shelf, pulling one of my extra helmets from it.
She frowned. “It’ll mess up my hair.”
“No helmet. No ride.” Turns out there were some things I could deny her. “Safety is paramount.”
“I bet you’ve ridden without a helmet.”
“I’m willing to risk my own life. Not yours. Put on the helmet, sugar.”
I was actually slightly saddened when her pout was covered up by the helmet. I pressed the button to open the garage door and pulled the bike out and around my Yukon. When that was done, I removed the helmet from Michelle’s head to give her a few pointers on how to hold onto me as we rode. Her excitement spilled over onto me and I silently asked God for his protection as we set out, knowing that I’d be too easily distracted by the pressing of her breasts to my back. I pulled her arms tightly around my waist, and looked over my shoulder.
“You ready?”
She nodded and I revved the engine a little before pulling off. I laughed when Michelle gave a little yell of excitement. Instead of going out the main entrance of the community, I circled around and took the back street, that led to a long, windy, mostly secluded road. We rode on that road for close to forty-five minutes, speeding up to fifty miles per hour. I often went much faster on my bike, but I wasn’t willing to take that chance with my woman on the back. When I finally stopped, we’d reached an overlook that peered down onto Williamsport.
“When can I have a turn at driving?” Michelle questioned once she ripped her helmet off, and swung her hair away from her face a little. We were sitting face-to-face on my bike with the engine off.
I pulled her face to me, kissing her lips because I needed to.
“Never,” I answered once I pulled back. “Frown all you want.”
She giggled. “That was fun.”
“First time on a motorcycle?”
She nodded. “But not my last.”
“Only if it’s my bike.”
“I wouldn’t trust anyone else.”
My damn chest tightened.
“Do you come out here a lot?” She looked around, taking note of the lake that wasn’t too far from where we parked.
“Sometimes.”
“It’s beautiful here. Close enough to the city, but still quiet.”
“It’s why Josh decided to start a development here.”
“Josh is the brother right after you, right?”
I nodded.
“And Tyler is the youngest.”
My eyes narrowed at the mention of my youngest, dipshit brother.
“You complain about them but it’s obvious how much you love them.”
I turned my eyes back on Michelle who was observing me.
“Even the mean one.”
I smirked at her description of Aaron.
“What’s his deal?”
I shook my head. “What isn’t his deal? He’s been through some things, I guess,” I replied, making light of Aaron’s background.
“What did you say to him to convince him to talk to my boss again?”
“I told him I would kick his ass for messing with my woman.” I scowled just remembering how pissed I was the day I went to see Aaron after Michelle came to me at the station. I turned and looked down when I heard giggles coming from the woman in front of me.
“You didn’t really threaten him, did you?”
“Damn straight I did. But he wasn’t afraid to get his ass kicked by me so I had to use something else.”
“What’d you use?”
“Threatened the one thing that would get under his skin. Townsend Industries.”
Michelle’s head snapped backwards and the space between her eyebrows creased. “How’d you use Townsend Industries against him?”
I pushed out a breath and told Michelle all about how I told Aaron I’d use my stake in the company against him as CEO if he didn’t get her, her job back.
“You did that for me?” Her voice was filled with a little bit of awe.
“Of course, sugar.”
Her honey brown eyes softened and shone, and just as she bit her bottom lip I wanted to lean in and take what was mine again. Instead, I was thrown off when she shoved me away.
“Good! It was your damn fault I got in trouble in the first place.”
My chest rumbled with laughter that eventually spilled out of my mouth. She was right but I wasn’t about to make any apologies.
“Come here.” I pulled her pouting mouth to me and wiped that little frown off her face. Before I could get too carried away, I released her from the kiss and then repositioned ourselves on the bike, with Michelle’s back to my chest. Even our breathing was in sync as we sat quietly watching the cars down below pass by.
“How often do you come up here?”
“Not a lot anymore. I used to come frequently when I first moved into the house. I had a lot of time to myself then.” My voice sounded weighed down by a pair of dumbbells.
Michelle turned to look at me over her shoulder. I only caught her out of my peripheral as I was staring out into the distance.
“Why’d you have so much free time?”
I clenched my jaw and peered down at her before staring off into the distance again. “I’d been having some trouble at work.”
“What kind of trouble?” She turned to face out into the distance again, but her hand rose to stroke the side of my beard.
It was all too comforting and I leaned into her soft palm. I sighed and briefly debated on how to say my next words. I had told Michelle she could trust me and that I wanted her to know everything about me. What I was about to reveal was one of my uglier truths, but for better or worse it was a part of what made me who I was.
“I’d been suspended from work. I got caught coming into work drunk and high on oxycodone.”
Her hand paused on my cheek and she sat up, turning to me. She stared at me, searching my eyes. I wasn’t proud of my past, nor was I ashamed, and so I wouldn’t look away from her.
“You were high at work?”
I nodded. “For the third time.”
Her eyes ballooned.
I lowered my head and clenched my fists before raising my head to look her in the eye. “I’d been going downhill for a while. A few years back, a lieutenant and I got trapped in a warehouse fire. A beam fell on us. I was injured but Gary got it the worse. He had removed his helmet and mask. His skull was nearly caved in. I tried my damndest to resuscitate him while the guys outside had to search for a way to get to us. By the time they did, Gary was dead and I had second degree burns, smoke inhalation, and a major back injury.”
“You were given oxycodone for the pain,” she stated just above a whisper.
“Yeah.”
“And it turned into a habit.” It wasn’t a question.
“Yes.”
“So what happened?”
“The final straw was Eric walking in on me stumbling around the bathroom.” I squeezed my fists, hating the memory of that embarrassment. “He reported me to the higher ups.”
“He reported you? You two seem so close when you’re around one another.” Shock was apparent in her voice.
“We are,” I countered. “Eric did what he was supposed to. My behavior wasn’t just endangering to myself. It put all of my brothers at the station house and the people we were supposed to be saving at risk.” I still regretted the position I’d put Eric in. “The brass put me on a six month suspension and demanded that I check into a thirty day rehab before I was able to return.”
“Did you go?” Michelle questioned as she leaned into my shoulder, laying her head down and starting to stroke my jaw again. Her touch was soothing the raw edges of pain from that time period.
I nodded slightly. “I went. Could’ve gotten out of it by using my name to throw my weight around but I knew I’d lose the respect of my teammates. And the last thing any guy in my squad wants is to lose the respect of the guys who walk through hell with him. They wouldn’t hold it against me for needing help, but they sure as fuck would hold my being a pussy and not owning up to what I’d done against me.”
“How was rehab?”
“A shithole.” I smirked and pressed a kiss to her lips when she giggled. “No really, it was one of those secluded, expensive places that a lot of celebs go to detox and get dry. My father saw to it that I’d have my privacy.”
“Your family supported you?”
“They did.” I’ll never forget the unquestioning support I received from all the members of my family and my squad.
“And the department let you return. No questions asked after your stay?”
“I took another thirty days off and continued to see a shrink for a few months after.”
“I’m sure that wasn’t easy to do for a guy like you.”
I gave her a curious look.
“You know what I mean. You’re the oldest of four brothers so you’ve obviously been looked up to your entire life. The last name you carry holds a lot of respect. You’re a damn special forces veteran and now, work for the toughest rescue squad in all of the Williamsport Fire Department. And you wear it naturally, as if you were born to carry the weight of it all. I imagine it took a lot ask for help.”
She had me pegged. Described perfectly the heart of who and what I was.
“It was the hardest thing I’d ever done.” In spite of that admission, I smiled, gazing down at her. “But instead of it being utterly humiliating as I thought it would’ve been, it was the most humbling and rewarding time of my life. I’ve fought wars and beat back hundreds of fires, but nothing showed me how tough I was like asking and receiving help.” I moved, pulling her into me again and resettling her head on my shoulder. Inhaling, I smelled the sweet scent of the moisturizer she’d put on at my place. “And if I hadn’t had that experience, we wouldn’t be here right now. And this,” I squeezed her hip with my left hand, “you are my destiny.”
It was quiet for a long while. I could feel her thoughts as they ran through her mind. I’d just laid a lot at her feet. There was still more where that came from, but I believed in doling out my secrets in doses. She would get to know all of me and I her, in due time.
“Have you taken drugs since then?”
I shook my head. “I haven’t picked up anything stronger than a beer in well over a year. I haven’t even touched ibuprofen since then.” I had no desire to.
I felt her head move as she nodded. “You were a situational user.”
I pinched my brows, wondering how she knew a rather clinical term. I’d heard counselors at the rehab center use it on occasion.
“I learned that phrase while reading up on addictions.” She sighed. “I wanted to learn more about my mom.”
My eyebrows spiked.
“She used drugs all my life from what I can remember. My father died of a heart attack when I was still a baby. I thought that maybe that was what set her off. Caused her to love drugs more than me. But I read and found out that it wasn’t just any one thing. She was an addict and she’d actually been using way before I came into the picture or my father died. My whole life I was the one taking care of her. At ten, I was running home from school on the first of the month to check the mailbox for my father’s social security check before she could get to it. I paid our rent and bought groceries. Sometimes … most times, I wasn’t quick enough so we wouldn’t have food for weeks because she spent everything on drugs. More than once, she sold my clothes and other belongings to get more money for her next fix. We moved from place to place.” She blew out a shaky breath, and I pulled her into me tightly. I hated the pain I heard in her voice as she relived those memories. Suddenly, another thought came to me.
“Isn’t your mother taking care of Diego right now?”
She sat up and gave me a half smile. “She got clean six years ago. Just before I gave birth to him. When I told her I was pregnant, she went to feel my belly and I moved back, shielding my unborn baby from her. Something changed in her right then. It’s weird to describe, but I saw it. As if she saw everything she’d put me through. The next day she called and told me she was finally checking herself into rehab. She didn’t make any promises beyond that, but even that willingness was different for her. I’d begged for years that she go to rehab but she refused, saying just a few NA meetings were all she needed. She barely did those, though. My expectations were low, however. By then, I’d had twenty-three years of being let down by her. I wasn’t about to get my hopes up. I had to protect myself and my son.” She paused, looking around and sighing.
“Anyway, she did ninety days at the rehab, then came home and did another ninety meetings in ninety days. It was the first six month period of time I’d ever known my mother to be drug-free. After I had Diego, she asked me to move in with her so she could help take care of him while I worked and went to school. I refused. I still didn’t trust her. I never left him alone with her. I was most surprised when she said she understood. She let me get comfortable at my own pace while she continued her meetings and her recovery. It took more than a year for me to leave Diego with her while I ran to the grocery store, let alone a full day at work. In her second year of sobriety, she got a job as a counselor at a shelter in the city. She provides services to other addicts and support to their families. Not until Diego was two did I leave him alone with her overnight. Slowly, I began trusting her more and more.” Her smile grew. “And Diego’s love for his grandma shows how much she has changed. She’s been clean going on seven years and she still works everyday to maintain it.”
I ran my thumb down the side of her cheek. “It’s incredible that you could forgive her after all of that.”
“It wasn’t easy.” She shook her head. “I was angry for a long time. How could she get clean and sober for my son, but not for me? You know?”
I nodded in agreement. That would’ve pissed me the hell off, too.
“It’s why I began reading about addiction. I thought it might help me learn to forgive her.”
“Did it?”
She gave a one shoulder shrug. “Somewhat. I learned that she honestly didn’t have a choice in the matter. I never understood when they say addiction is a disease, but I started to comprehend it a little more. It wasn’t until one day Diego was around four and he was begging me to let her come to the zoo with us. I watched how excited he became when I finally said yes. His eyes beamed and he jumped up and down, clapping. I thought, if my mom can make my son that excited, I could forgive her. After that, I began letting her into more of my life, not just my Diego’s.”
My hands went up to cup her face on their own accord. I pulled her in and right before our lips touched I said, “You’ve got the purest heart of anyone I know, sugar.”
Her gaze lowered. “I’m not perfect.”
“No one is, but you are perfect for me.” I sealed my comment with a kiss that could last forever. Unfortunately, I did have to cut it shorter than I wanted to get Michelle back home. That was the longest date I’d ever been on, excluding my bevy of one-night stands. And I hated for it to end. I vowed, that one day soon my home would become our home.