Chapter Six #3
“I do,” I whisper. I take a good look at him, in his white-collared shirt, unbuttoned enough to reveal a sexy sprinkling of hair. His sleeves are rolled up, his forearms muscular. And his intense gaze bores into mine. He’s never made me feel anything but special.
Sebastian chooses that moment to interrupt our mutual scrutiny with a bottle of wine.
Nick and I enjoy a dry white with Sebastian’s Chef’s Experience menu, which he describes in detail. Through our taste buds, we travel through Spain, sampling the cuisine of the area. It is by and far the best food I’ve ever had. Eventually, Sebastian says goodnight and leaves us alone.
Nick keeps the conversation light, with most of our talk centered around Leah and her antics.
I love telling stories about my daughter, and Nick soaks them up, sometimes laughing.
But other times, I catch a sad expression on his face that seems like longing for all he’s missed.
The look is especially evident when I give him my phone so he can scroll through old photos.
“I have her baby book,” I say, just after I’ve taken my last bite of dessert. “I should have thought to show it to you earlier.”
“I look forward to seeing it.” He smiles, pushing back his plate. “My family is dying to meet her.”
I nod. “I felt bad that we didn’t have them at her birthday party.”
“It was too soon. Now that she knows I’m her father, I can tell her about my family and prepare her for the sheer amount of Dares she’ll soon be meeting,” he says, laughing.
I lift my eyebrows. “Why don’t you tell me about your family?” For all he knows about my past, I know nothing of his.
He pushes back his chair and stands, reaching out his hand to help me stand. “That’s a long story. Let’s go into the other room, and I’ll fill you in.”
***
Nick
I prefer to live my life in the present, avoiding thinking about my childhood or family history.
With my three-date rule and my life on the road, living that way has been easy.
But now I have a child and a woman I’m interested in, and they both deserve to know about my very large, very unique family.
“Get comfortable,” I say to Aurora. Although I’d rather carry her into the bedroom and bury myself inside her, we aren’t there yet.
She sits down on the sofa, and to my surprise, she inches closer, as if she senses my need for her to be within touching distance.
“I know you have a twin sister, and of course I know Harrison. Who else is there?” she asks.
I stretch my arm along the top of the couch, tangling my fingers in her hair, which grounds me. I look up at the ceiling and gather my thoughts, then start at the beginning. “My dad’s name is Michael, and my mother’s name was Audrey.”
“Was?”
I blow out a harsh breath. “Yeah. She’s gone. It’s…complicated. To sum up my siblings, there’s Asher, who runs Dirty Dare Vodka, and has his hands in a lot of other pies, too. Next is Harrison, who you know, then Zach. He owns a bar in Soho.”
I suspect there is more to my independent ‘do his own thing’ brother than anyone knows. “Then, of course, there’s me and Jade, who is the lead Event Coordinator for all the hotels. She lives here in New York.”
Aurora tips her head to the side. “Sounds like my siblings. There were four of them until they found me.” She looks at me with confusion because I alluded to more family.
And there is.
I rub my fingers along her silky hair. “My mother suffered from mental illness.” Now come the uncomfortable parts.
Aurora snuggles into me as I explain. “From what I’ve been told, she liked to be pregnant, enjoyed the attention she received, but taking care of kids and actually being a mother? Not so much.”
Aurora sighs. “That’s sad.”
“It is. I’ve only known about Leah for a couple of weeks, but I love the idea of being a part of her life.
My mother… She had Asher, and three years later, Harrison.
Apparently, she took care of Asher and Harrison as infants but once they were toddlers…
” I shake my head, grateful I don’t have the memories of neglect in my head that my older siblings have.
Aurora remains silent, but the heat of her body feels good against mine. I never told anyone about my mother before—I never wanted to—but it doesn’t surprise me that Aurora makes me feel comfortable to do so.
I swallow hard. “My mother didn’t feed or bathe my brothers, so my father hired a nanny. Her name is Serenity. She was eighteen when she moved in. She was from the Midwest, and she was great with all of us. Getting help freed my father to work on convincing Mom to go for professional help.”
“Did she?” Aurora asks. She places a hand on my chest, and I nod.
“She went on meds. I don’t remember her at all, but Dad and Asher say when she stayed on them, she was okay. But she’d go off them without telling Dad, and sink into a depression. We all lived through cycles like that, until one day, poof !” I make a gesture with my hand. “She was gone.”
“I’m so sorry,” Aurora says.
“Jade and I were only two. Serenity was our constant, thank God. Zach’s recollections of Mom are fuzzy. Asher and Harrison, unfortunately, have most of the bad memories.” I know I ought to feel more when it comes to my birth mother, but I consider Serenity to be more of a mom than Audrey ever was.
Aurora pushes herself up and shifts positions, one knee beneath her so she can face me. “So your mom suffered from depression?”
“Technically, it was more than that—an actual disorder. It manifests itself in the desire to be pregnant. She loved the attention and would fall into a depression after she gave birth. Dad says he did all he could with birth control except have a vasectomy because she begged him not to. And he loved her too much to go against her wishes.”
“I’m sure he was in a difficult position. It’s hard to help someone who doesn’t want to be helped,” Aurora says with an understanding it took me years to find.
“It wasn’t like my father gave us intimate details about his marriage. Zach was an accident, of that I’m sure. Then came me and Jade. Twins. Three kids and two infants would have been a handful for someone who was mentally stable. My mom didn’t stand a chance. ”
Aurora remains silent, simply letting me talk. So I figure I might as well tell her everything. “The police eventually notified Dad that she’d committed suicide.”
Aurora sucks in a startled breath. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry.”
I run my knuckles down her cheek. “It’s okay. It was a long time ago, and I’ve come to terms with it.”
Although sometimes, I struggle with the fact that Jade has anxiety.
She has a handle on it, but I worry about my twin, about whether she could fall into the same hole my mother did.
But I don’t feel right telling Aurora about Jade’s personal issues.
“I still haven’t told you the whole family story. ”
Aurora bites down on her bottom lip, then releases it. “There’s more?”
I laugh, because what else can I do? “Six years after my mom died, Dad married Serenity. And before you ask, I was okay with it. We all were. I mean she raised me. Jade and I call her Mom. My father is a good man and was faithful to our mother, so why begrudge him happiness? He and Serenity lived under one roof. It happened. I have no issues there.”
“You love her,” Aurora says simply.
“Yeah. She’s the only mother I’ve ever known. I was lucky to have had her in my life.”
“Yes, you were,” Aurora says, because she knows the alternative better than I do. I hope my past doesn’t bring up any pain for her, but she wanted to know, and it feels good to let it all out.
“After a while, Serenity decided she wanted her own kids, not that she ever treated us differently. But she couldn’t get pregnant so she underwent fertility treatments.
” I shake my head and grin. “She had triplets—boys. They’re seventeen now.
She also had an oops baby, and she’s twelve.
So I have eight siblings…which means Leah has six more uncles and two more aunts.
She can even play with some of them. And that’s my family situation. ”
Aurora smiles. “Thank you for telling me. Leah will be thrilled.”
“I’m glad you feel that way. And I appreciate you giving me the chance to talk about it. You know, from the day we met, I felt like I could say anything to you.”
“Yeah?” She sits up on her knees and wraps her arms around my neck, something I take as a good sign.
“I understand that you don’t trust easily, and the reasons why. You need to know I didn’t bring you here expecting for us to have sex but—”
Before I can finish my sentence, she throws herself into my arms and presses her lips to mine.