29. Every Ounce Of Vulnerability
EVERY OUNCE OF VULNERABILITY
“That is just a crazy conversation with your mother,” Tasha said later that night.
Micah was in bed, the two of them sitting in the living room watching TV. More like the TV was on low and was nothing more than background noise.
He’d come over later than normal, having got hung up at work. And since he knew she liked to keep Micah on a schedule and was adapting to the routine of being back to school, he didn’t visit until her son was in bed.
But he was spending the night and she was looking forward to it.
He’d be out of the door before her in the morning. He wouldn’t get in her way, she was positive, but it was all part of life and adjusting.
“It was. I’ve had crazier,” he admitted. “I’m not sure what she wants from me. I’m not going to pretend that he hasn’t treated my mother like shit for decades. That he hasn’t stepped on her emotions, broken her heart, and made her feel as if she was worthless.”
She put her head on his shoulder. “No one wants to feel that way.”
“Nope. I’ve been there. I’m sure you have too.”
“Yeah,” she murmured.
He turned his head and placed a kiss on her forehead. “So, that wasn’t the only crazy conversation I had today.”
“Really? It gets better?”
He lifted his arm, dropped it over her shoulder and tugged her in closer.
“Jolene stopped in to see me right after I hung up with my mother. It was obvious what she was doing there, but she took one look at my face and decided on another route.”
“She was an ear for you to talk to?” she asked, her voice gone all tender and sappy.
“She was. I didn’t expect that. She was really sweet about it. Told me some things that mothers are fearful of.”
“You told her what happened on your call?” she asked, her voice full of more shock than a downed power line.
“Not in detail. Just that it was some family drama. She knows a thing or two about that.”
“That she most likely creates,” she said, sending out a short laugh.
“I said that. But, she was giving me a free pass.”
“I’ll get to that in a second. What did she tell you mothers are fearful of?”
“The usual things. Your children being hurt, sick, unhappy, alone. I get that. But the last part was that they do and say things out of love and caring but then worry it will upset and push their children away. There is always that fear that what they are trying to do is taken out of context.”
“I think she’s right,” she said. “Not that I’ve had much to worry about just yet with Micah, but you felt it. When I discipline him and he cries, it hurts me just as much. But I know I’ve got to do it.”
“We’ve all gotten in trouble and survived just fine.”
“That’s right,” she said. “I remind myself of that too when he has to sit in timeout, or he doesn’t get to play as long as he wished, or he wants something else for dinner.”
“I think Jolene was just trying to get me to see that maybe what my mother has done wasn’t meant to hurt us but to protect her.
Or the place it’s coming from is a good spot.
But what Jolene doesn’t realize is that most of the drama has nothing to do with Brittany or me, it’s my parents with each other. ”
“It doesn’t mean it’s still not coming from a place of love.”
“Oh, I don’t doubt that my mother loves my father. She says he loves her, but how do you love someone and treat them that poorly?”
“I don’t think you do,” she said. “I don’t know them though.”
“You don’t need to know them to believe what I do. It’s not right in any form to treat someone you love that callously.”
“It’s not. So right now, you’re not talking to her?”
“We’ll go a few weeks, I’m sure. She’ll call Brittany if she hasn’t already. I expect to hear from my sister soon. Sorry if she calls tonight.”
“Don’t be sorry. I guess being an only child, I don’t have to worry about those things, but it doesn’t make it any better either. There also isn’t anyone else to bond with when your parents get on your nerves.”
“There is that.”
Her hand ran over his thigh, rubbing it gently. “I’m sorry you had a bad day.”
“It wasn’t really bad. Just that blip. And back to Jolene, because we got sidetracked. She knows about us now.”
She scooted back and looked at his face. Saw the smirk in his brown eyes, along with the humor.
Her hand lifted, smoothing his hair back into place where the wind had messed it up earlier.
Or maybe it was just an excuse to touch him. To linger.
“What does she know, exactly?”
“That we’re seeing each other,” he said. “I didn’t have to spell it out. She figured it out.” He filled her in on the conversation with Mason there as backup. “Do you have a problem with it?”
“If I did, it wouldn’t matter now,” she said with a small smile.
Maybe once, it would have.
No. There was no maybe about it.
She absolutely would have panicked.
But now? Too many people knew. Not just her parents and Baker’s family, but coworkers. Friends. Their worlds had started overlapping whether she’d planned for it or not.
She’d even told a few people at work she was seeing him. And the soft, almost surprised smile Baker had given her when she told him had been worth every ounce of vulnerability it took not to keep everything locked down.
“Of course it matters,” he said. “I can’t take it back, but I didn’t think you’d mind.”
“I don’t.” She leaned in, kissed him, then shifted, settling into his lap, her knees bracketing his hips like she belonged there. “Not even a little. You know how open I’ve been. And you’re meeting my parents this weekend, too.”
Something she hadn’t done in years. Not since James. Not since her parents had told her how much they liked her ex years ago and made her feel foolish for walking away from a man she’d always known she would’ve merely settled for.
What she had with Baker now told her she’d been right to wait.
That patience mattered.
That she hadn’t missed her chance at the life she wanted.
She’d just been waiting for the right person to walk into it.
And he had.
She could feel it in the way he held her, in the way his presence filled the space like it belonged. She was going to show him just how much he meant to her.
How deeply she was falling in love with him.
No. Not falling.
She’d already landed with her heart wide open, steady, waiting for him to land beside her.
Maybe tonight she’d finally find the courage to say it.
The words she hadn’t given to any man in years.
The words that could change everything.
But she wasn’t afraid of that either.
She couldn’t be fearful of something that she knew was going to be right.
She slid off his lap without breaking eye contact and reached for his hand.
“Come with me,” she said softly.
He followed down the short hall, into her room, with the door silently shutting, then locking.
Her bedroom was dim, the curtains half-drawn, the late-day light washing everything in gold hues. It felt intimate without trying.
She turned to face him, her hand still wrapped around his. For a moment, she just looked at him, really looked. The man who had slipped into her life quietly and then stayed. Who showed up. Who listened. Who steadied her without ever asking her to shrink away from who she was.
This mattered. He mattered.
She pressed her forehead to his chest, breathing him in, grounding herself in the solid warmth of him. Then she lifted her head, palms flattening over his heart like she needed to feel it beating. Needed to know it was the same rhythm as hers.
“What’s going on, Tasha?” he asked, his voice low. As if he were whispering for fear of even hearing the words coming out of his mouth.
“This thing we have,” she said. Her hands went under his shirt, lifting it over his head, his chest there for her to look, touch, taste.
She placed a kiss right in the center, right by his heart, getting up on her tiptoes to do it.
“Yes?”
He was holding his breath. She could see it. Feel it.
The tension in his shoulders as if he wanted to say it also but was afraid.
Maybe as afraid as her.
But she wouldn’t let the fear overtake one more minute of her life.
“It started out slow. It started out... simple.”
“But never was,” he murmured.
“No,” she said, shaking her head, her lips landing on his nipple, her tongue swirling around and making it pucker. “I didn’t plan it. I didn’t want to rush it. But it’s there. It’s been there.”
His fingers threaded into her hair, lifted her chin up. He dropped his mouth to hers, their lips touched, held on, like he understood the weight of what she’d given him. Like he’d been entrusted with something precious.
“It is there,” he said.
She smiled around his mouth, then leaned back so she could look into his eyes when the words escaped.
“I love you. I don’t know when it happened. I just know that when I saw you playing with Micah on the patio alone, the way you watched him, then turned and watched me. I just knew, right then, my heart had been falling and it was on the floor in that moment.”
He let out a soft huff, then lowered his mouth for another kiss. A gentle one. Tender. Just a peck.
“You know something funny? That was the moment I knew it was there too.”
She led him backward until the backs of his knees hit the bed, then gave him a playful nudge. He could have found a way to stay standing, but didn’t.
He went onto his back, his arms circling hers and bringing her down with him on his chest.
When they settled together, it wasn’t about urgency or heat.
It was about closeness. About choosing. About staying.
She curled into him, her heart full and finally at rest now that the words had broken free.
She’d waited a long time to say them.
And she knew deep down, that he’d done the same.
“How about this moment?” she asked, giddy now. The weight of it all was lifted and they were able to soar anywhere it took them.
“Oh, the moment where I get you naked?” he said, rolling her.
“Yes, this moment.” She wiggled out from under him and got back on top. “But I’m going to get you naked first.”
He lay there, his arms out wide. “Go right at it. I’m all yours.”
Her lips landed with a loud smack against his. “And that is exactly where I want you.”
She slid down, undid his shorts and yanked them off, tossing them out of the way, then stood and removed her clothing just as fast.
He reached for her hips, pulled her between his legs that were hanging off the bed, then sat up, his mouth going right for her breasts.
He cupped them both, one in each hand, and his lips moved side to side as if trying to decide which one to latch onto first.
She didn’t care. She just wanted him to pick one and get to work.
He did. He never left her wanting. Waiting. Or feeling as if she weren’t enough.
Her back arched, his fingers gripped her tighter, held her in place by the tender flesh, the touch of pain almost as pleasurable as his tongue darting around and stabbing at her hardened peak. His warm breath on the cool air.
“Baker?”
“Mmm,” he mumbled.
“I’m on the pill if you’re okay with it?”
His mouth released her with a smacking sound as if he’d just popped the best tasting lollipop out of his mouth.
“I am if you are.”
She crawled into his lap before he could move, his feet still on the floor, her legs around his hips, lining them up to fit perfectly like they always were.
His hands went to her hips, sliding her down, her wet heat covering him, the skin to skin, the tightness no longer there like it was months ago.
It was as if her body saw him and was immediately ready. Every. Single. Time.
She moved with him, the rhythm instinctive, his hands guiding her hips, steady and sure, keeping her grounded even as everything inside her felt weightless. Not that she doubted him for a second. He had her. He always would.
Her arms slid around his neck, pulling him down until her mouth met his. Their kiss was deep and unrestrained, their breaths mingling, their bodies pressed together in a way that left no room for doubt or distance.
Heat built between them, their skin slick, and the world narrowed until there was nothing but the connection they were creating.
Nothing about what she shared with Baker made her want to hide. There was no shame here, no instinct to tuck it away and pretend it wasn’t real.
What he made her feel was something she’d waited far too long to claim.
If she had her way, she’d cry out to the world.
He lifted her then, standing effortlessly, her legs locking around him as she held on, trusting him completely. Letting him take the lead and fuck her like she’d never been fucked before.
Like no man had ever been able to support her.
She let herself surrender to the moment, to the ache and the want and the way he seemed to know exactly what she needed without her saying a word.
He was jerking in and out of her. Short jabs of pleasure. Skin slapping skin.
Every movement pulled her deeper into him.
Every breath felt shared between them.
She was building. She was climbing. She was ready to come undone all over him.
“That’s it,” he said. “Hang on tight. I’ve got you.”
His hands were on her ass, spreading her cheeks apart as if it would help him find that right spot.
Every spot was right with him. Every move he made.
The deepness of him in her, the feeling of wet silk filling her.
“Don’t stop,” she screeched. “I’m right there. Right now!”
Her head went back, her body went limp, but Baker had her.
He was holding her tight. He was coming right with her. Clutching, twitching, prolonging each pulse her body was releasing.
Then he was whispering, “I love you.”
And she was shedding tears.
The tears of love.
The tears of finally finding the one.