38
Family always says they’re sorry
[Midge]
A few weeks pass, and Hank and I are in a much better place. He spends a lot of his free time at my house; what free time we have. Between baseball games and a spring concert, along with Hank’s crisis center hours and my search for jobs, we’re swarmed by life. We talk again about the money, and I tell Hank how I am happy to work as a marketing consultant for a while as I learn more about the possibility of going on my own. Thankfully, he lets the subject drop.
Mother’s Day weekend, we have plans. Gage invites Hank and me, plus Edie and Tommy to join him on Saturday for something special as Sunday is the official day for mothers. We receive no other instructions—just join him at their home. We are to dress casual, and when we arrive at their oceanside home, I’m dumbstruck. It’s gorgeous with a first-floor wall of glass overlooking the water. It’s breathtaking in grays and whites, and comfortable in a way I wouldn’t expect the rich and famous to live, especially in comparison to my rare visits to Kit’s sterile home. I check my emotions at the door when I visit Lawson with Hank. He needs me, and he reminds me often.
After a quick tour of the house, Gage ushers us to their family SUV. The kids aren’t coming with us today, he says, as six adults climb into the large passenger vehicle. We travel west, curving through the hills, and at first, I think we might be heading to Kit’s home. Dread fills me. The house is a mausoleum to the dead, and the stark whiteness remains cold and unfeeling. Yet after a few more twists in the road, we pull up to a gated home, complete with an iron gate and stucco fence. Gage presses in a code, and we slip down the drive to eventually park before a sprawling home.
At first glance, it appears as if two homes have been attached, but the streamlined architecture enhances the overall beauty of the structure. One side is single level. A set of double doors is surrounded by glass panels on either side marking the main entrance to the home. This foyer connects the other side of the house, standing two stories tall. The Spanish terra cotta roof tiles gleam in the spring sunshine as the white stucco house welcomes us like a vacation villa.
As we sit in the car a moment, I notice Gage watching Ivy instead of admiring the house.
“What do you think?” he asks.
“It’s lovely.” She sighs, expressing my thoughts exactly. The landscaping softens the brick in a variety of greens with something in hot pink blooming on a vine along the front wall. Gage smiles and presses open his door. He touches Ivy’s arm, suggesting she wait, and the rest of us climb out of the SUV. Standing in a semi-circle on the drive, Gage helps his wife from the vehicle and then puts his arm around her.
“Welcome home, gorgeous.”
Edie’s breath hitches, and my mouth falls open. Ivy blinks up at her husband.
“Happy Mother’s Day, little mama.” He reaches for her stunned cheeks and drags her for a powerful kiss. I look away from the private moment. He bought his wife a freaking house for Mother’s Day! It’s too intimate to witness. I peek up at Hank, whose smile beams.
“You know something about this?” He nods sheepishly, the grin grows. Tommy chuckles, and I turn to him. His arm wraps around Edie from the back. He kisses her neck before glancing up at the house.
“What do you think, baby girl?” Tommy addresses Ivy who stands still in shock.
“You bought me a house?” she says softly, but we stand close enough to hear. I’m thinking we should give them some privacy, but Gage’s slow curling lips tell me he’s pulled off something big.
“The house is yours, yes, but it’s for all of us. Ava, Emaline, Granger…” He pauses, slipping his hands to her wrists. “And Lawson.”
Tears spring to my eyes. Edie’s already dabbing at hers.
“What?” Ivy whispers, still too stunned to move.
“Tommy and I agreed your mom’s house is too cold and needs too many improvements to make it a home for us. Plus, I don’t think it would be good for us to move in there. I wanted something for us. Ours. It was fucking hard to find a place big enough with all the specifications and handicap accessibility we need, but I did it.” He waves out a hand at the house. He turns back to his wife, whose eyes haven’t left his face. “All those phone calls. Appointments. They were about this.”
“You weren’t having an affair?” My heart breaks at the hesitation in her voice, yet a hint of relief fills her expression.
“Baby, we already talked about this. No. Definitely not.” Gage’s voice softens as he tries to reassure his wife. Tears fill her eyes and slowly leak down her cheeks. Tommy’s soft chuckle next to me adds to the tender moment.
“Princess, he can give you phone records and calendar appointment sheets if you wish, but I can corroborate his story. I went on too many of these damn home showings to say he had time for anything else.”
“I’m so sorry,” Ivy says to her husband, tears falling harder as she covers her face in shame.
“Ivy, gorgeous, I wouldn’t want anyone else,” Gage snaps, cupping his wife’s face again. “I love you. I love us. I’d be fucking out of my mind to cheat. I’m sorry I made you worry. I just wanted to surprise you.” He kisses her forehead.
“You bought me a house?” Ivy repeats, robotically, looking up at him. A weak smile graces her beautiful face.
“You wanted Lawson out of that house. You wanted to spend more time with him, include him in the family, so I found this. He can have his own wing where we can join him but still have our space. There’s a pool and a therapy tub for him. It’s amazing.” Gage’s excitement grows as the color returns to his wife’s face. She launches at him, and they kiss like a porn movie is being filmed in their new driveway. Her legs wrap around Gage’s hips, and his hands bury in her hair. As witnesses to this borderline pornographic scene, the rest of us laugh nervously until Tommy snaps, “Gage.”
“Care,” Gage retorts, but his tone is all tease as he holds his wife on his hips.
“So…” Ivy drags. “Show me everything.” Gage doesn’t release his wife until we reach the door. Inside, I try to keep my jaw up as I take in the lavish space and open concept. The kitchen is something from a home décor magazine, and as we admire appliances, Gage pulls his wife toward the grand staircase for this half of the house. Tommy continues the tour to the other side of the home, guiding us through a private living space, smaller kitchen, and Lawson’s new bedroom. Two more rooms finish the hallway.
“This is for the various nurses…” Tommy points at an open door, displaying a light yellow room with a double bed covered by a daisy print duvet. He stops at the end of the hall and waves us forward. I step in a masculine looking room of light gray with dark brown furniture. A king-size bed takes up most of the space, but it’s a comfortable room with sunlight streaming through the double-pane window. “And this last one is for you.” Tommy nods at Hank, and I look up at my flabbergasted boyfriend.
“What?” Hank chokes, swallowing what I can only assume is a lump in his throat. I have one as well. This is an amazing gesture.
“You never had a home with your child, and we both know he can’t live with you in his condition. The liaison suggested that Gage treat him like any other adult living on his own by having a guest room. Only you aren’t a guest, Hank. You’re his father. Gage wanted you to have a space in case you wanted to stay the night.”
Sweet cheese, I’m fighting tears as I watch Hank’s face. He blows out a breath. Ever see a large man crumple with emotion? Me either, and my heart rips from my chest at the fight in Hank to keep the tears at bay. He pinches the bridge of his nose, holding the corners of his eyes a moment before blinking rapidly.
“We’ll give you a moment,” Edie says softly, her hand on her husband’s chest.
“Maybe twenty.” Tommy winks. “Don’t come to the pool house.” Hank chuckles, and I’m sensing the two men share a moment of history. Edie leads the way, and Hank and I are left alone in his new room in his son’s home.
+ + +
The stunned look in Hank’s eyes is all I can focus on.
“Holy fuck,” he mutters. He hasn’t moved, and I worry he’ll tumble over. Touching his wrist, I watch as he blinks down at me, then folds down to the edge of the bed.
“You okay?”
“I think I’m numb...in a good way.” He twists slowly, taking in the space. With a deep exhale, he reaches for me, tugging me to him. I fall over his lap, straddling him as he wraps both arms around my back and holds tight. I curl my arms around his head, pressing his cheek to my chest. A shudder rattles his body.
“No, Hank,” I mutter, bending forward to kiss the top of his head and linger. “Hank, honey, don’t cry.” I pull back, but he squeezes me tighter, not releasing me.
“Why did it take so long to find you?” He pinches his eyes again, his face avoiding mine a moment. I press him back and remove the trace of his tears with peppering kisses. My heart aches. “I wish I’d met you sooner.”
The sentiment is sweet but not realistic. A man like Hank Paige would have never been interested in me. I believe everything happens for a reason, but I can’t think of one reason Kit Carrigan emotionally abused this man or why he thought he had to drink so much.
“I think we met when we were supposed to meet. When we were ready, or maybe when we needed each other most.”
“I needed you so much earlier in my life, little lady.” I continue to cup his face. My lips brush lightly against his.
“I need you now, honey,” I say with another quick kiss. “There are some things I can never wish changing. My kids are those things for me.”
“I don’t want you to wish them away, baby. If anything, I want a little more of everything with them, too.” I startle. Hank has been wonderful with the boys, considering our misunderstanding weeks ago. He accepted Ronin’s apology and opened up to them about his history. He handles Elston’s surliness. Of course, Liam already adores Hank and finds no reason to dislike him even for a second. I could remind Hank he has Lawson, but I already understand his feelings. Finding out he has an adult child isn’t the same as discovering he has an infant. He’s missed out on so many things. The squishy toddler. The whiny teen. He wants experiences.
“You’re an amazing mother, Middy. I would have loved to have babies with you.”
“I know, sweetheart,” I say softly. I’m forty-one, and while I’d love to give Hank a child, I think that ship has sailed. To be safe, we agreed I’d go on the pill. “I would have loved to give you a baby.” This is a moment of pure honesty for Hank. He’s not dismissing his own child. He’s simply admitting he wanted more.
“Maybe you could just let me share the ones you already have.” He leans forward to kiss my chest, avoiding eye contact once again. My heart contracts. This man.
His hands rub up my sides, his lips kissing my chest, nuzzling the open vee of my blouse over to get to the swell of my breast. I’m balancing on his thighs, not wishing to crush him or imply anything, but the more he sucks at my skin, and the closer he gets to my nipple, a pulse beats under my skirt. Hank’s hands slip under my shirt, massaging firmly along my sides.
“I love your skin,” he mutters, sucking at me once again. Nimble fingers begin to unbutton my shirt.
“We probably shouldn’t be doing this here.” I giggle until he bites my nipple over the cotton material of my exposed bra.
“If this is my room, I want to christen it properly.”
I laugh nervously. I agree. I want to be with him, but I don’t want the other couples to know what we’re doing.
“Maybe we should get back out there and see what everyone else is up to.”
“Sex. That’s what they’re doing. Each other.” He hesitates between lolling his tongue over the swell of my breast. “Shirt. Off.” He growls, and the vibration of his chest ripples against me. Leaning back, I do as he says and slowly remove my blouse. Hank’s hands squeeze harder at my sides, working his way just under my breasts but not touching me.
“You’re like a personal lap dance.”
“Cripes.” I choke, not wanting to consider him ever receiving one, or three.
“As I’m all about equality, I’ll match you.” He balances me on his legs while he tugs off his shirt in that guy way. Maybe I’m the one who wants the lap dance. That is, him dancing while I sit on his lap. Our skin makes contact as his arms span up my back. He tugs my hair, and I tilt back. This gives him more access to my neck, and he nibbles, teasing me once again by getting close to that spot—the one along my collarbone where he knows I like to be nipped.
“Little lady,” he whispers, and I know what he wants. He tugs down my bra and forces one achy globe upward. The nipple peaks in his direction, hard and ripe from his attention. “You know I love your tits, baby.” Hank sucks firmly, latching on to worship me. He’ll leave a mark from the suction as well as his scruffy jaw. He releases me with a popping sound.
“Middy.” He presses back at my hips, forcing me to slip off his lap. He stands, nearly knocking me back, and lowers his pants, including his boxers. Sitting back down, we gaze at one another a moment before I lower to my knees. “Little lady, what are you doing?”
“I’m christening the room.” My fingers crawl up his thick thighs and circle the silky shaft—erect, solid, and waiting for me.
“This isn’t what I had in mind.” He teases as he massages my shoulders, and I kiss the tip of him, licking a circle around the crown. “Fuck, baby.” His hands come to the back of my head, fingers delving into my hair. I open and take him in as far as I can, twirling my tongue around him. Flicking over the pulsing vein and lapping at him like he’s my favorite treat, I recall the first time I did this to him. Icing on a cake.
Hands come under my arms and lift me to stand. He tells me to remove my panties and pats his thigh after the request. Without fully exposing myself, I reach under my skirt and remove my underwear. Hank watches me, and I’d feel self-conscious if I didn’t like the way he looks at me. Possessive. Passionate. All his.
I climb back over his legs as he holds himself upright. It’s a sexy sight.
“Like what you see, little lady?”
“I love it,” I purr, lifting my eyes to his. “I love you, honey.”
His mouth finds mine, devouring me, forgetting about other intentions for a few minutes. He tugs at my lip as he pulls back.
“I love you, too, baby. I more you.” My lips curl as he positions himself under my skirt. I rise on my knees a bit, using his neck as leverage. One hand guides his length, the other wraps around my backside, and he slips in. Deep. Penetrating. Fulfilling.
Suddenly, I feel risqué knowing people might be waiting for us. My skirt covers what we’re doing if someone walks in, but neither of us is wearing a shirt. Then again, Hank’s pants are at his ankles. The moment feels scandalous, but I feel sensual. I roll my hips, building a rhythm against Hank. The pace gives new meaning to lap dancing. Hank holds me by my ass under my skirt, squeezing and encouraging me as I increase the beat. He feels so good like this, so deep, and I’m finding friction in a new way in this upright position. I clench harder than I think I ever have. I’m fighting forces, feeling like I’ll slip off his lap, and holding on tight in an effort to remain connected to him.
“Don’t drop me,” I mutter, my movements exaggerated, luscious and languid. My head falls back, and I clasp his neck.
“Never let you fall, baby. I’ll always hold on to you.” I’m forcing myself down on him in a pattern of clench and pulse. My head comes to his shoulder. I want this to be for him, but I’m finding it’s definitely about me at the moment.
“Lie back,” I whisper into his skin before licking up to the shell of his ear. He brings his shoulder to his chin as he tilts his head.
“That tickles.” I cover his mouth, but I can’t keep the pace and concentrate, so I draw back and push at his shoulders. I don’t follow him down but stay upright. His eyes never leave me.
“Tug down the other side,” he says, watching as I follow his command to release my other breast. I cup both and squeeze them together. “Fuck,” he mutters, biting his lip like he has more to say, but now isn’t the moment. I’m still rolling over him, the position filling me as the nub that triggers pleasure finds friction against his pelvis. Hank and I have made love in several positions. I find it unbelievable we can experience something new, but we always do. Each time, it feels different. Each time, it feels like something I haven’t done before because it’s always a first time for me with him.
“So close, lady.” I don’t know if he means me or him, but I’m almost there when he pins me to his hips. His fingertips squeeze, and the jolt inside sets me over the edge. Sweet cheese, I like the sensation of him jetting off in me.
Hank pulls me down to his chest, holding me once again like he did with his tears. Both arms wrap around me, pressing me into him. He’s still inside me.
“I’m sorry I can’t give you babies, honey.”
“Don’t you worry about that, little lady. You’re all I need.” He kisses my forehead. “But I’d like to have something else with you one day. Maybe a home like this. A permanent place for me with you.” I’m curious if he means an actual house the size of this incredible mansion.
“I’d like that,” I say, but really, I’d love to just see Hank in my home, joining me in my bedroom.
“Middy, I don’t want to just have sex with you once in a while and only sleep with you here and there. I want you every night.” My breath hitches as he stole my thoughts, but I try to make light of our shared emotions.
“Sex every night.” I laugh, teasing him. “I’d be too tired for that.”
“I’ll let you rest. In between times.” He forces my chin up and draws me down for another toe-curling kiss. He slips out of me, but I don’t move. I don’t think I’ve ever been so happy. His expression grows serious, and my smile slips a little until he says, “I meant what I said. I want more of you, little lady, and then some.”