41. Vaughn #2
“You make me a better man by challenging all the things I always believed to be true.”
“Like what?”
“Like my belief that my success in business defined me. That I needed to push and push just to prove something. That letting go of my business was failure, because that’s what I’d watched my own father do time and time again.
But I let it go, Alba. I sold the business and walked away, and I’m no less of a man, no less of a father. ”
“You sold your business?”
I stroked her cheek and smiled. “I met a guy at that gala after all. Leif Sorensen, the property developer. We came to a deal, and I officially retired a week ago.”
Alba’s mouth opened and closed like she didn’t know what to say.
“You told me you wouldn’t be someone’s second priority. Let me put you first.” With the fingers of my free hand, I touched the slight swell of her stomach. My voice cracked, so the next words came out as a whisper: “Let me put you both first.”
“I thought—I thought you’d tell me to leave,” she whispered. “After I said I didn’t want to be with you, I thought you’d throw it back in my face when I told you about the baby.”
Lifting my hands to cup both sides of her face, I looked into her eyes and said, “I’m not your parents, or your lover, or your ex-fiancé.
You had every right to be angry with me.
I’ll take your anger, Alba, and I’ll cherish it if it means I get to be near you.
I’ll take it all. Anger. Frustration. Guilt.
Fear. Hurt. Everything you can fling at me will be worth it if it means I get to spend a lifetime making sure you stay by my side. ”
“Vaughn—”
“I’ve been cursing myself for what I said to you that night, and for not getting on my knees and begging for your forgiveness when you tried to give me the dress back. So let me do it now. Forgive me, Alba. Forgive my harsh words, and let me spend the next several lifetimes making it up to you.”
Tears fell freely from her eyes, and she shook her head. “This isn’t how I thought this conversation would go.”
“What did you think I would say?”
“I thought you would tell me that you’d moved on. That we’d had our fun, and that it was over. I thought I would feel used and tossed aside, like I’ve felt with every other relationship I’ve ever had.”
“It’s not over,” I told her. “It’ll never be over between us.”
Her laugh was watery. “Do you remember what you said to me, before?”
I leaned my forehead against hers. “When?”
“When you put me up in your penthouse.”
“You told me you didn’t want me to kiss you.”
Her lips curved, her cheek shifting under my palm. “Yes. And you said it wouldn’t happen again until I begged you for it. And you wouldn’t let me go so easily.”
My heart thundered. “I meant it.”
She pulled back, met my gaze, and traced my upper lip with her index finger. “I’m begging for it, Vaughn. Kiss me, and never let me go.”
Relief swept through me, washing away the hurt and the pain and the despair I’d felt since she left. I angled her head, gripped her chin, and kissed her with all the love, the passion, the need that was inside me. She flung her arms around my neck and gave as good as she got—as usual.
“I want to show you something,” I said, panting, when we pulled apart to catch our breaths and stood swaying on the sidewalk.
“What’s that?”
“Come,” I said, tangling my fingers with hers. I floated back to my townhouse, stopping every few feet to wrap Alba in my arms and kiss her. She laughed, finally batting me away and shoving me toward the house. I grinned; the curiosity was getting to her.
I put my arm around Alba as we went up the steps, my gaze dropping to make sure she didn’t lose her footing. She was carrying precious cargo, after all.
She gave me a flat look. “Don’t start. I’ve made it this far without being treated like I’m made of glass.”
“Can’t help it,” I said, grinning.
“Why is your door open?”
“Left in a hurry.” I tugged her over the threshold and guided her up the stairs to the third floor, then over to the attic ladder staircase.
I stood behind her as she climbed, my heart rattling as she made her way up the narrow staircase.
She sneezed at the top, and I hurried her across the plank I’d laid over the rafters to the ladder.
“I’ll make a proper walkway,” I told her, and gestured to the ladder. “Careful as you go up.”
Her eyes were bright as she looked back at me, and then Alba started up the ladder. I wasn’t far behind—close enough to hear her gasp when she cleared the trapdoor. We clambered out onto the rooftop terrace, Alba’s eyes on my summer project, my eyes on her.
“Vaughn,” she whispered, staring at all the greenery, the raised planters, the rich dark soil. “Vaughn—what is this?”
The sun had gone down fully, and the stars were beginning to blanket the sky above.
A nearly full moon hung low over the tops of the buildings in the distance, bright and beckoning.
I crossed over to the power point in the corner of the terrace and plugged in the orange extension cord I’d left hanging there.
Dozens of buttery yellow bulbs came on, crisscrossing above us, and Alba let out a delighted laugh. I crossed the terrace and wrapped my arms around her, pulling her back to my front.
“You built a veggie garden on your roof,” she finally said. “Look at that cucumber! Oh my God. The mint! It’s huge!”
“And invasive, apparently. I’m going to have to put it in its own pot. It killed off my parsley.”
“And green beans!” In her voice, I could hear the delight of seven-year-old Alba, who never got to pick her first harvest. “Vaughn, this is incredible! You did this?”
My throat was tight as I said, “Ralphie helped set it up. After you left, I had to take a long, hard look at myself. At my priorities. I knew I’d lost you, but I decided I needed to make changes to make sure I wouldn’t lose my daughter too.
And I guess building this garden, it was kind of a…
a message to the universe. That sounds lame, I know, but I thought, maybe… ”
“Maybe I’d hear the message, and I’d come back.” She turned in my arms, her eyes bright with unshed tears.
“Maybe you’d hear the message, and you’d come back,” I repeated softly, leaning down to kiss her.
She tolerated my kiss for about three seconds, then pulled back and asked, “Can I pick one of those green beans? I always wondered how they’d taste fresh off the vine.”
I wanted to keep kissing her, but I couldn’t refuse when she smiled at me like that.
We crossed over to the raised planter containing my green beans, and I watched Alba lean in to inspect the plant, choosing her green bean carefully.
She picked two good ones and handed one of them to me.
Then she crunched down and chewed, and I had the privilege of watching those beautiful blue eyes light up like she’d just won the lottery.
“I love you,” I couldn’t help saying as I watched her hunt through the growing beans for another good one.
She abandoned the task, turned into me, and pulled me down for a long, hard kiss. “I love you too,” she finally replied. “And most importantly, I love your rooftop veggie garden.”
Laughing, I leaned down to kiss her—but she stopped me with the tips of her fingers.
“Oh,” she said. “That reminds me. My rent. Did you pay my rent until the end of the year when you were ‘handling’ my mold problem?” At my expression, Alba reared back, frowning suspiciously. “What? What’s that look on your face?”
“I didn’t exactly pay your rent,” I admitted.
“But…?”
“But I might have bought the building.”
She gasped, then smacked my chest with her palm. “Vaughn!”
“What! You were living in a shithole, Alba. I knew you wouldn’t stay in the penthouse, so I had to come up with another solution.”
“Another solution? That’s what you call buying up an entire building just to save me from a little mold under the sink? You can’t—that’s not—no! That’s crazy! You can’t do that!”
I caught her around the waist and pulled her close. “Try and stop me, princess.”
“I’ll move out,” she warned.
I gave her a sharp, victorious smile. “I know you will.”
Her brows tugged, confusion flitting across her expression. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Because you’re moving in with me, here, today.”
“I—”
“I told you that when you came back to me, I wasn’t going to let you go so easily. And I meant it.”
She opened her mouth to protest, but nothing came out.
“Besides,” I continued more softly, my nose nudging hers, “I need someone to help me up here with all these vegetables.”
“You’re blackmailing me with green beans.”
“Is it working?”
Alba’s eyes sparkled under the fairy lights. “Yes,” she admitted, and began to laugh.
I caught her laugh between my lips and kissed her as deeply as I’d been craving since we walked up here. Then the kiss became a touch, and the touch became a moan, and then I got on my knees and begged for forgiveness the way I should’ve done all those months ago.