Gravity, p.15
Gravity, page 15
Her eyes are wary until the smile starts to grow on my face.
In general I try to avoid beating the shit out of people.
But I’m so fucking proud of her.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Abby
After we give our statements at the police station, an officer gives us a lift back to my office. Without a word, Dex leads me to his car. I climb in to the passenger seat and breathe him in.
He steers us to a 24-hour diner between Beechford and Winthrop Harbor, and over burgers, we talk.
The scene at my office takes a little explanation.
After that party—he knows the one—I signed up for self-defense classes. I never told my parents what happened, but they didn’t discourage me. I took them all through college. For a while I even joined a martial arts studio and worked my way up to a brown belt.
I practiced every day.
Dex looks at me while I tell him this, his eyes shining with pride.
“So you don’t need me to save you any more, is that it?”
“No. I want you. I don’t have to have a man. But I want you in my life.”
Understanding lights up his face, like he’s finally understanding what I’ve been saying all these years. He’s good enough.
He reaches across the table and takes my hand. Squeezes.
I can tell he wants to ask more questions, but I’ve been waiting all day to tell him something else.
He listens as I take him through getting the appointment reminder and rushing to the doctor. He wrinkles his forehead in confusion.
Then I tell him about the conversation I heard outside my exam room. The name I heard when the nurse called in the prescription.
“Holy shit,” he says, almost to himself. Understanding dawns on his face. “Holy shit.”
His expression swings from anger to relief, then back again. “What the fuck,” he says, his voice still soft. “Who does this type of shit?”
I eat my last fry. “Have you seen a pregnancy test?”
He shakes his head, then keeps shaking it. “No.”
“Has she taken you to any appointments?”
“Not a single one.”
“I think it’s worth asking about.”
Dex stands up, digs in his pocket, and throws two twenty-dollar bills onto the table. “Let’s go.”
“Right now?”
“Yes.”
“Should I—”
“Bee, don’t ever leave my side again.”
***
We’re climbing the stairs to his apartment inside of fifteen minutes. When we reach the hallway, I see why it was so convenient to visit Nikki. Their doors are across from one another, the only two apartments in the hall.
TV noise blares from her doorway. Dex walks right up to it, no hesitation, and knocks.
Knocks again, louder.
“Hang on a second.” Nikki’s voice is the same as the one in the doctor’s office, only now it sounds irritated. A few seconds later the door opens a few inches.
“Dex,” she says, her expression going innocent. Then she sees me and her eyes narrow. “Who is this?”
“How’s your IUD, Nikki?” he says, his voice casual, conversational. “It didn’t fall out or anything, did it? When’s the last time you had it checked?”
For the first time in my life, I witness someone’s jaw drop.
“What the fuck, Dex? What are you accusing me of? How could you—”
“Spare me, Nikki. The whole pregnancy bit—it was a lie, wasn’t it?”
She sputters, her cheeks going bright red. “I don’t know—”
Dex cranes his neck as if to look into her apartment. “Do you have a pregnancy test in there? Maybe one you could take in front of me?”
She snaps her lips closed and glares at me. Her hatred is so strong I almost have to step back.
There’s a heavy silence.
“Fine,” she spits. “Fine, asshole. I’m not pregnant.”
He doesn’t ask any follow-ups.
“Great,” he says, stepping back and giving a wave that would look apologetic if I didn’t know. “Sorry to have taken up any of your time.” I swallow a laugh. “I won’t be seeing you, Nikki.”
He turns around and folds me in his arms, his eyes aglow, all the tension gone from his body.
“Bee Schaffer, for the love of everything that’s good, never leave me again,” he says, and kisses me so deeply I think he will never come up for air.
Nikki rolls her eyes. Steps back. Shuts the door.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Abby
In the gray half-light of the early morning, I come awake slowly, sweetly, and breathe in.
I’m in Dex's bed.
The kiss led to another kiss, which led to Dex backing us up to his doorway. He only stopped kissing me long enough to unlock it.
I took over once we were inside, backing him into his bedroom, pushing him down onto the bed. As I straddled him and his hands went to my hips—right where they belonged—he sighed, then smiled at me, eyes glistening with tears.
He peeled my shirt over my head and I unhooked my bra.
Then the love of my life worshipped each one of my breasts until I was writhing on top of him, so wanting, so ready.
By then we were both naked and he pushed inside of me, claiming me even as I bucked against him, riding his cock for all I was worth.
Nothing in the world has ever been more right.
I leaned down to press my lips against his chest as he pulled my hips down hard with every thrust. Every nerve was on fire.
It wasn’t long before he began to pull out, to stretch his arm across to his bedside table for a condom.
With a hand on his wrist, I stopped him.
“Are you sure?” he said, low and urgent.
“Yes. Yes.”
It wasn’t a risk. Not with Dex.
I rocked my hips, drawing him in, taking him to the edge as I reached mine and plummeted over, crying out into his kiss.
Now, in the very earliest stages of dawn, I can’t ignore the heat between my legs.
Dex sleeps on his back, arms thrown above his head. I put my hand on his gorgeous abs and start to slide it lower, lower…
At my touch he stirs, and a sleepy, sexy smile spreads across his face.
It’s the smile I’ve waited all my life to see.
It’s the smile I thought I’d never witness.
It’s the beginning of everything.
Epilogue
Dex, two years later
The ultrasound technician slides her wand back and forth, looking, looking again.
My eyes are glued to the screen. A lump is in my throat. I get that same joyful tightness at every single appointment.
Bee reclines on the examining table, beaming at the screen. With one hand she props her head up, and with the other she clutches mine.
We wait approximately forever before the tech finally speaks.
“Everything looks great.” She pauses, looks again, and then: “Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Stevens. This baby is a girl!”
Bee lets out a screech of joy and squeezes my hand.
A few tears squeeze out of the corners of my eyes. My smile is so wide it hurts.The tech takes a few more pictures, then excuses herself. “I’ll be back with a CD for the two of you.” She leaves with a grin.
“Well,” I say, wiping my face with the back of my hand. “Should we call your parents?”
“Let’s just drive over,” says Bee, practically vibrating with excitement.
“They’ll hear the news in twenty minutes. Are you glad you stayed?”
Her happiness is incandescent. “Oh, my god, yes. Leonard’s offer was so flattering. But this is the right place for me.” She gives my hand another squeeze. “For us.”
Twenty minutes later, we’re walking slowly through the parking lot to my car, the swell of Bee’s belly preceding her. It’s a goddamn miracle, being with her.
It was like night and day once we got together, and Bee let everyone know it. We got married in a restaurant downtown and moved into her condo while I finished school. Sometimes I even invite my parents over.
The feeling I have when I’m with her—like I’m getting everything right, even when I screw up—is priceless. I never imagined I’d feel like this. Every day practically explodes with possibility.
She turns to me just as we reach the car and kisses me, tasting sweet and clean. When she pulls back, she claps her hands together. “We have to celebrate!”
I pull her in close and kiss her hair, breathe in the scent of her shampoo. “Every minute that I’m with you is a celebration.”
“Who knew you were such a romantic?” she teases.
“Me? No way. But I’ll still buy you a burger.”
“I knew you would.”
“Cate got into town yesterday, didn’t she?”
“Yes. Perfect timing, too.”
“Call her. Tell her to meet us at the diner and bring your parents. We’ll get some girly balloons on the way and surprise them.”
Bee looks up at me and smiles, her face pink and just a little fuller than it was five months ago.
“And then we can go home?”
“Home?”
“To bed?” A sly grin.
“You don’t have to ask me twice,” I say, opening her door for her.
She climbs in, her laughter sending warmth down my spine. “You sure you don’t want someone a little sexier?”
“I’ll only ever need you, Bee.”
“Forever is a long time.”
“Not nearly long enough.”
Amelia Wilde is a writer of sexy stories who could not resist the siren song of full-blown romance novels. She loves Diet Coke, paperback books, and jelly beans. Summer is her favorite season.
Amelia writes about alpha heroes and heroines who have real life skills. Sparks always fly, and readers are never left without a happy ending.
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Wilde, Amelia, Gravity
