Sasha

It’s been two weeks since Xander sang me to sleep in his bed. Zion came home a week ago, and I learned why Victoria adores her so much. She’s a no-nonsense mama like Leigh Anne Tuohy from The Blind Side, but she’s also got the soft intelligence of Clair Huxtable from The Cosby Show. I wish she were my mom.

Since that night, we have become a tight-knit group of five. No one makes a move without notifying Tito. If we go outside, Tito goes. If we go to the grocery store, Tito goes. Sometimes I look behind me when I go to the bathroom and find him watching me like I’m going to try to escape.

He’s right to think that. I’ve been thinking about it ever since Xander wouldn’t completely promise not to kill my ex-husband. Speaking of Enrique, I haven’t heard a peep from him—no calls, no texts, and no piles of Fiesta cigarettes around the house.

That’s not to say he isn’t watching us. He’s probably just keeping his distance because we have two men patrolling the outside of the house at all times. Or he’s on the downside of his manic episode, and he’s holed up in bed. Either way, I know better than to think he’s given up.

Victoria seems to be warming up to Tito. I was shocked at how long it took for this to happen. She gave him a wide berth for at least a week, never speaking to him and positioning herself as far away from him in a room as possible.

But Tito’s good with kids. Slowly and cautiously, he gained her trust, and in the past two days, she’s let her guard down. I never had to undergo her initiation process, and for that, I am glad. I might have given up.

Today we are at the beach like most days. Tito stands behind us with Mark and Matt at his flank, and the alarm has been set in the house. The first few days we spent at the beach were tense and awkward, but we have since let our guard down a little.

Zion sits on her beach lounger under her giant umbrella offering her encouragement and clapping when Victoria rides a wave all the way to the beach.

From what I have observed over the last few days, Zion seems to be doing well—well enough to go back to work full-time and let me skip out of the Sullivan’s lives, so they can go back to normal without me.

I don’t want to leave. My heart aches at the thought of it. Xander and I have been getting along great, more than great—perfect. I’ve never met a more handsome man inside and out. No matter how hard I tried to keep my distance and keep it casual between us, it was never going to happen. If it’s possible to love someone after knowing them five weeks, I think I love Xander.

He senses something’s up with me. In fact, there are times when I feel like he can read my mind even though that’s impossible. Me being here with them is like a ticking time bomb. Tick, tick, tick, and when Enrique wakes up from his depression nap or gets tired of watching from a distance, BAM! He will strike, and it won’t be pretty.

Thursdays are Xander’s late night at the clinic. He stays to catch up on paperwork in his office. I don’t like him being there alone, but he says they have the same security system there as he has in this house. He also says he can take care of himself, and when he does, I roll my eyes to the heavens and pray that he can.

Today is Thursday. Xander is at work, and it’s starting to get dark. I can’t believe we’ve been out here so long, the sun’s going down, but Victoria insists riding one more wave. I help her holding onto the tail of her board as the wave comes toward us, and then I guide her into it not letting go until I’ve set her on a line and bam, she’s off!

We cheer her on as she pops up and rides to shore like a little pro. “That was great!” I yell helping her to her feet when she falls into the shallow water.

“I wanna go again!” she yells smiling ear to ear.

“Little lady, we’ve been out here all day, and it’s getting dark,” I say.

“And your Zion is pooped,” Zion adds walking toward the water. “We need to get cleaned up and make supper before your papa comes home,” she adds.

I tussle her hair. “There’s always tomorrow, don’t forget,” I say.

She looks up at me with her eyes that look so much like her father’s. “Sometimes it rains.”

“Ah, yes, but the forecast for tomorrow is sunny with a high of eighty degrees, perfect beach weather.”

“Okay,” she says dragging out the word like it’s a task to say.

“Tito, can you turn off the alarm in the house?”

“Sure thing, Miss Sasha,” he says and presses some buttons on his phone, so we can get inside. He helps Zion with her umbrella, and we trudge up the beach with our boards and towels. That’s when the exhaustion of a full day in the sun and water hit me. I wish I could go straight up to bed and fall in—sandy bikini and all.

That’s not in the plans, though. Zion goes with Victoria upstairs to her bathroom so she can shower while I wash my hands and start pulling ingredients out for grilled salmon and bacon-braised string beans.

Tito is standing at the top of the stairs where he can see me in the kitchen below and watch down the hall to the bedrooms where Zion and Victoria are. We try hard not to be in two places that Tito can’t monitor at the same time.

I turn on a few lights as the sun continues to set and check my phone on the counter for any messages. There are two from Twyla, and one from my mom?

My mom never texts me—I didn’t think she even knew how to text. I go to that one first with a bad feeling in my stomach.

Mom: Dear Sasha, you had a visitor here today. He said his name is Julio, and he’s Enrique’s uncle. He was looking for Enrique. When I told him the two of you were divorced, he seemed very surprised. Didn’t he tell his family? Anyway, I thought you should know he said he’s going to California. He needs to speak to you about something important. He wouldn’t say what. I hope things are okay. Love Mom.

Normally, the fact that she wrote the entire text in letter form would make me smile but not today. Why in the hell is Enrique’s uncle looking for me? He’s the one who married us in Mexico. And more importantly, why is he coming here?

I don’t know if this is something I should tell Xander or not. It is obvious that Julio doesn’t know where I am if he’s snooping around in Minnesota. He will never know where to look here. I should be safe with a full-time bodyguard, two house guards, a million-dollar security system and essentially off the grid.

But I need to warn Twyla so she won’t tell him anything if he shows up at the apartment. Shit, what do I mean if? He will show up.

I dial Twyla and softly talk so Tito won’t hear me. “Hey T, what’s up?”

“What’s up? I’m missing the hell outta you, woman, that’s what’s up. When are you gonna invite me over to that fancy beach mansion anyway?”

I have been telling her for weeks that I’ll have her over for a movie and martini night to pacify her. I feel bad, but I don’t want to get her mixed up in this mess. That would just be one more person for Tito to babysit.

“Soon, I promise. I’m sorry,” I whisper. “It’s been hectic helping Zion and taking care of Victoria. This is a twenty-four-hour-a-day job. I don’t get to punch out, ya know?”

“Why you whisperin’? You in bed doing the boom-boom with the hot doctor?”

“Twyla!” I hiss. “Would I be calling you if I were?”

“Nah, guess not. Why the whispering then?”

“I’m just trying to keep it down so Xander can watch the news.”

“Oh girl, you sound so domesticated and shit.”

“Yeah, domesticated.” I fake chuckle, and she’s on to me.

“What’s the matter? You gotta say something, spit it out, I’m listening.”

“Oh, all right. So, I don’t know why, but my ex’s uncle who married us in Mexico is coming to California looking for me. He’s probably going to show up at the apartment. Can you just tell him you don’t know where I went?”

“Whyyy am I lying to this guy?”

“Can you trust me that I’ll tell you soon and that I can’t talk about it on the phone?” Twyla loves drama. I know this for a fact. That’s why I never told her the whole story about Enrique and me. She’d flip out and never stop talking about it.

“Please, it’s life or death. I need this favor. You can think of like ten things you want to do, and we’ll do them when I’m done with this job.”

“Done?” she shrieks, and I can just see her standing in our kitchen with one hand on her hip, phone tucked against her shoulder waving the other hand around like a diva. “You’re not gonna be done with that job. You wanna know why?”

I roll my eyes and look at the ceiling. “Why?”

“Because it’s a relationship, woman, not a job. How dense are you anyway?”

“We’re from different worlds. I’ve been telling you that from the beginning.”

“Yeah, but that’s before y’all became the freaky Brady Bunch over there with your African nanny and your sexy beast bodyguard guy. Why do you have a bodyguard anyway? Does that have something to do with why you don’t want to talk to Enrique’s uncle?”

“Twyla, do I have to have an excuse not to want to talk to him?”

“Nah, guess not.”

“So, will you do it? Will you tell him you haven’t seen me in a few weeks, and I left a note that said I was going to visit family or something?”

“Sure thing, but only if you promise to show me that house this weekend.”

“All right sure, this weekend, house of the rich and famous tour.”

“Now that’s what I’m talkin about!”

“Okay, so we’re straight? You cover for me, and I invite you over.”

“Yes, ma’am. Hey did you see my texts? You got a stack of mail over here, some of it looks like bills, and your mama called looking for you.”

“I didn’t see them, but my mom text me and just hang onto the bills. I’ll be home to go through them soon. Thanks for letting me know.”

“How ‘bout I bring ‘em with me when I come for my tour?”

“Sure, that’s fine. Okay, I gotta go. Xander’s going to be home soon, and I have to make dinner.” She makes a little huffing sound. “What?”

“I miss your cookin’, that’s what. I lost like ten pounds this month, and I’m sick of take-out and cereal.”

“I’m sorry, I’ll make you your favorite when I get home… spicy chicken tacos.”

“Did I hear you say something about spicy chicken tacos?” Xander says coming in from the garage. I swallow my heart when it springs into my throat and whisper a quick goodbye to Twyla who is protesting about hanging up.

“Oh, sorry, that was Twyla. She loves my chicken tacos, too. I was going to make salmon and veggies tonight, though. I hope you’re not too disappointed.”

He drops his briefcase on the couch and loosens his tie all the while making his way to me. “Nothing you ever do or say and especially cook could ever disappoint me.” When he’s toe to toe with me, he pushes a stray curl behind my ear and trails his finger lightly down my mostly-healed nose and brushes it over the spot on my cheek where he stitched me up in the ER. “This looks perfect.”

“Well, I had an awesome plastic surgeon. The best in the world some might say.”

“Really? Wow, he must be something else.”

“Yep, something else about sums him up.” I smile, and he chuckles and wraps his arms around my waist sliding a hand inside my bikini bottoms.

I look up at him thinking he probably has a fist full of sand right about now. “Sandy enough for ya?” He grabs a chunk of my cheek.

“I love this ass, even when it’s sandy and best when it’s bare.”

“Well, let me cook you some dinner, and later you can take my bare ass to bed.” He relaxes his grip and slides his hand out swatting me on the ass and kissing me long and hard and deep leaving me breathless.

When he pulls away, he leaves me standing in the kitchen panting and gripping the counter with one hand. He has a habit of getting me all hot and bothered and walking away. Sometimes it’s hot, and sometimes it’s downright frustrating—this time is the latter.

“That wasn’t nice,” I say to his back as he crosses the room to the stairs.

“Really? I thought it was very nice. Later on, I’ll make sure it’s out-of-this-world nice. It’ll be the best dream ever.”

I roll my eyes at no one. Ever since the first time we made love, he’s referred to it as dreaming. It’s his code word for sex in front of Victoria.

Hey, do you think we’ll have time for a great dream tonight? What did you think of that dream you had this afternoon? I’ll bet I can make you scream in your dreams.

I’m going to miss that. I’m going to miss a lot of things. So much so that I have no idea how I’m going to survive without this little family I’ve become a part of. I wish there were some way to make Enrique stop so we could be together.

He hasn’t made a move in weeks, and that has me on edge. It’s only a matter of time before he crawls out from under his rock and starts making my life a living hell again.

I cook dinner, and our ragbag family enjoys another meal together. Afterward, exhausted and stuffed, we retire to our rooms making it an early night. I shower and flop down into bed on my stomach to wait for Xander who is in his office finishing up a virtually simulated consultation for a patient who wants a new nose and cheek implants. I snuck a peek at her before pictures, and I can’t figure out why she wants to change her already pretty face. Xander says she’s had five plastic surgeries trying to make her boyfriend like her more. He also says if she keeps going, she’ll end up looking like a cat.

I struggle to stay awake after a long day of fighting ocean waves. I know Xander won’t be long, he never works for more than an hour in the evenings, but I can’t make it.

In a dream where Victoria and I are tubing a giant wave together on the same board, I feel something warm on my calf. I look down at my leg and see a dolphin with arms stroking my skin. He’s smiling and friendly, but he’s going to ruin our run. I’m just about to kick him in the head when I hear a voice say my name. It’s close and familiar and very sexy—it’s Xander—he’s giving me butterfly zings.

I open my eyes, and the ocean and Victoria and the dolphin are gone replaced by Xander who is sitting on the bed dressed only in black boxers and sliding his hand up my thigh to my ass. I’m still on my stomach hugging a pillow wearing a pair of red lace panties and a t-shirt with one leg hitched up.

“I know you’re tired, but when a man enters his bedroom and finds his woman looking like this…” he says as his hand reaches my ass, and he squeezes a cheek. “… he’s going to wake you up with no guilt.” He trails kisses following where his hand just scorched a trail up my leg and ends with a gentle bite of my ass.

“I was dreaming about the ocean,” I murmur against the pillow smiling.

“Mmm, close your eyes, and I’ll make an ocean between your legs that’s much better than the one in your dream.” He crawls onto the bed over me and slides my panties off following them down my legs with another trail of kisses. This man’s mouth has touched every single centimeter of my skin. He has effectively worshiped every spot on my body inside and out.

Kissing the small of my back with his hands on my bare hips, he murmurs against my skin. “Butterfly zings?”

“Oh yeah, millions.” I want to tell him my butterfly zings are so powerful they could provide power for the entire state of California, but his mouth on my skin is short-circuiting my brain.

There are no more words, just his hands on my hips and my back and my shoulders, his thick erection against my back when he presses his weight against me, and the chill of the air when he moves away. I’m about to protest when he slides his hands around my waist and pulls me up onto my knees, my back against his front.

His powerful hands cup my hyper-sensitive breasts, and I drop my head against his shoulder granting his mouth easy access to my neck. I hold my breath as his fingers feather down my belly and between my legs.

Working me into a frenzy, he circles my clit and kisses me until I’m aching. I’m on the verge of begging him to take me when he bends me at the waist and pushes into me from behind.

Relief and exhilaration explode as he starts a steady rhythm that quickly accelerates like a freight train barreling down the tracks to its destination. I bury my face in the pillow and grip the sheets taking every inch of him until my orgasm takes hold ripping through my body.

I scream and moan into the pillow as I ride out the final moments of my climax feeling Xander following close behind with a final determined thrust.

Sometimes the best days end with even better sex.