Chapter 14
CHAPTER 14
B eatrix
Present Day
I guess I was too shocked and hurt back then to hear what Ren was trying to tell me.
“We were so young…” I say, thinking back to my na?ve self at twenty, willing to leave college to follow a guy. Maybe Ren did set me free to grow up and find my purpose. Not that I want to thank him for dumping me, but his explanation makes me feel a little less wounded over how we ended. And I love my career, and it satisfies a creative hunger I didn’t know I had ten years ago.
“We were,” he says, plopping onto the lounge beside me. “And now…look at us. About to have a kid? Guess that means I’m not a kid myself.”
I offer him a small smile. “Says the guy who plays sports for a living. Ren, you will always be a kid at heart, even when you’re a dad on the outside.”
He draws a shaky breath. “I’m just…not sure I know how to be one. I didn’t exactly have a great role model.” His body folds over in defeat, and it hurts my heart.
I can remember Ren talking about his dad only once. “My mom said he wasn’t a bad person; he just did bad things,” I recall him saying. Specifically, he drank too much and didn’t think twice about getting into a car when he could barely see well enough to put the key in the ignition. Ren’s mother tried for years to get him to seek treatment, but when Ren was only six years old, his dad drove off the side of a mountain road and died. The saving grace was that he didn’t involve anyone else in the accident.
“I’m sorry,” I say, pretty certain I had the same response back then. I wish I knew now how to say something more helpful.
Ren covers my hand with his. The tiny reassuring gesture reminds me that he still knows me after all this time. “I know alcoholism is an illness, and it wasn’t his fault that he had the disease, but I still hold him accountable for not treating it like one. Then again, I barely knew him. I’ve spent a lot of years in therapy talking about my resentment, and it made me want to double down and be the best father I could. Someday.”
“Just not today.” I can’t help but clarify. I know this wasn’t his choice, and I want him to understand that I get it.
He shrugs. “It wasn’t the plan, but maybe now it is?” He squints like he’s uncertain of what he sees in the distance.
“Maybe. Or not. You should take your time thinking about it.” I know it’s the right thing to give him space, even if a part of me really wants to know right now what he’ll decide.
Ren nods and inhales deeply. “Okay…sure.” He sounds like he’s agreeing to get takeout instead of cooking. He twists, stretching his neck and back. I feel bad for dropping this bomb on him, but what choice did I have? “Honestly, it’s all I can do on mo st days to get Truman fed and walked.” He doesn’t say what we both know—his travel schedule doesn’t lend itself to much of a stable home life. “It’s why I always put parenthood far down the road. But…plans go awry.” A boyish grin pulls at his lips.
That, combined with his explanation for why he broke things off, cracks my heart open a smidge, and I can’t deny a glimmer of old feelings. I tell myself it’s dangerous to feel anything for him, but my heart disagrees.
Gingerly, he reaches for my hand. It feels right to let him, though I can’t articulate why. “I think…” He lets out a long, slow breath, and I get ready for a big pronouncement. “Maybe we should get some food.”
I can’t help but laugh. “Maybe we should.”
It’s six in the evening, and I haven’t eaten all day. This is what happens when I wake up nauseous and spend several hours worrying about how Ren will react to my news.
The sun disappears behind the hills, but the sky still has that hopeful afternoon light that makes me believe in endless summers. It’s still warm enough for shorts, though Ren offers to swing by my house if I want to change. “I’m good. Let’s go someplace casual.”
We drive south on Silverado Trail, passing one winery after another. Tru naps in the backseat, and I watch the wind from the open window ruffle his wavy fur. I still feel leftover nerves, which translates into me yammering about the local history. “The owner of that one and his wife split, and she opened her own winery right across the road,” I say, pointing to the dueling signs that have similar fonts and similar names. “He took her to court, saying she ripped off his name and design, but he lost. Now, people assume they’re connected because they look so similar. When they visit his, they visit hers. So even though she’s brand new, she gets a ton of business.” I’m talking too fast.
We drive past another one and point to a wooded area where the road disappears. “That’s Meadow Hill. It’s kind of the gold standard for expensive, small-batch wines. We’re watching what they’re doing very carefully. Everyone is.”
“Interesting,” he says, finally, when I let him get a word in.
“It is, isn’t it? If you live here long enough, you know everything about everyone.”
“So that means people will know about this in a minute,” he says, pointing at my belly.
“Oh.” I inhale a shaky breath at the idea. “I hadn’t really thought of that, but yeah. I guess they will.”
We continue driving, but my who’s who of the Buttercup Hill area has lost some steam. “That one’s been around for three generations. The kids all live out of town, so it’s not clear if there’s an heir to take it over,” I say, pointing vaguely to the left.
Ren puts a hand on top of mine. “I appreciate the greatest hits tour. But I can tell you’re working really hard not to talk about the elephant in the room.”
Another glimmer of warmth unleashes in my heart at how well he knows me. Even after all this time. It makes me a tiny bit excited about the prospect of raising a child with him, but that’s putting the cart way in front of the horse. This horse hasn’t even decided if he’s steady on his legs yet.
“I guess I don’t want to freak you out.”
“I’m not freaked out,” he says, keeping his eyes on the road.
“Okay, well, maybe you should be. It’s freaking me out that you’re so calm.”
He lets out a long breath. “I’m just…I don’t know…I guess I’m trying to take it one step at a time. First step seems like getting some food in you.”
I can’t help but chuckle. “That’s how we got into this trouble in the first place. You insisting on replacing my muffin.”
“Your muffin, indeed.” Ren smirks and I feel my face heat. His eyebrows bounce as we pull into the parking lot of a taco place. “Tacos okay?”
I nod, worried I’ll spew more innuendo if I speak .
At the little stand just outside of town, we order beef and chicken tacos and take them to a picnic table under a tree. The air between us feels heavy as we sneak looks and awkward smiles at each other and chew through the food. Maybe this is a new normal for us—uncomfortable silences.
Wordlessly, Ren answers my concern by coming around to my side of the table and sitting on the bench next to me. He puts his hand on the small of my back and rubs soothing circles. I never said my back was aching from the muscles stretching as my insides make way for a baby, but he knows.
Tentatively, I tip my head against his shoulder and sigh at the warmth of his body. His hand comes up to smooth my hair, and we stay like that, each lost in our own thoughts and maybe bound by a similar one—whatever this is, we’re in it together.
One hour later, we arrive back at Ren’s casita, and I stand in his driveway, expecting him to hug me and say goodbye. After all, I’ve given him a lot to think about, and I can see the fatigue etched on his face. Truman exits the car and takes off into the vineyards.
“Do you…want to come in?”
The obvious answer is that I need to go home. He’s just being polite, and I’m worn out from the anxiety of anticipating telling him my news and the emotions of rehashing our breakup.
“Sure. That’d be great.” Apparently, I have no control over my mouth.
Truman greets us happily, circling around our legs and getting his share of belly rubs before disappearing to his doggy bed.
“Can I get you anything?” Ren asks, turning to face me at the base of the stairs. I shake my head, still unsure why I stayed, but knowing I want to be here .
Ren meets my uncertain gaze and reaches for my hand. Interlacing our fingers, he brings them to his lips and softly kisses my knuckles. “I don’t know what this is.” His voice is a quiet rumble that sends a flood of sparks through my body.
Taking a step closer to him, I let out a slow breath. “Me neither. But I think I like it.”
“Last time you were here, you said you didn’t like me. Is that still true?”
Slowly, I shake my head. It seems impossible to dislike him now. “In some ways, this feels like us—the old us. But I know we’re different now.”
He takes a step closer. “Maybe not so different.”
I freeze, intensely aware of the heat of his chest, which is only a couple of inches from mine. I swear, if I lit a match, the electricity between us would send the room up in flames. I’m uncertain what he’s feeling, yet a part of me responds to him with a deep understanding.
There’s vulnerability in his eyes, along with something more intense. Smoldering.
I feel a closeness that comes from finally understanding why he did what he did all those years ago. And from our current situation, however it pans out in the future.
“I, um, you should know that my pregnancy hormones are making me…feel some things.”
Ren barks out a laugh. “That your way of telling me you’re horny?”
I nod.
He smirks, running a finger from my temple to my cheek and over my shoulder. His hand continues down my arm until our fingers intertwine. “Well, I’m here for you. Whatever you need.”
I nod again, leaning closer to him until we’re breathing the same air. My forehead rests against his chest.
“ Anything you need.” The heat in his growl makes my stomach flip and my core burn hot .
Ren leads me up the stairs, and I don’t question it. When we reach the hallway outside his room, he spins me so my back is against the wall and leans a forearm against the wall over my head. His eyes are molten as he lowers his lips to mine with such slow, intentional precision that it feels like he’s moving in slow motion. By the time his hand slides into my hair and his lips make contact, I’m a shaking, writhing bundle of need, desperate for the taste of him.
He takes his time with this kiss, overwhelming me with the heat and sensation of his mouth on mine. It’s a kiss I never want to end, a kiss I’d betray my country for.
It’s the polar opposite of the last time we were together. There’s no sparring or salty retorts. I could question the wisdom of letting my guard down with the man who broke my heart, but I’m too addicted to the feel of him to bother.
As we move into the room, Ren strips off each piece of my clothing so deftly that I don’t even realize it’s happening until the backs of my knees hit the bed and I realize I’m naked.
“How the heck did you do that so efficiently?” I sigh, hating that I need to break our kiss to ask, but needing to know.
He smiles against my mouth. “I know efficiency is your love language. I’m adapting.”
“Right when I didn’t think you could turn me on any more…” I giggle.
I can’t get Ren’s clothes off fast enough. Belt—ripped through the belt loops. Shirt—unbuttoned and on the floor in under ten seconds. I have none of the grace or finesse of what Ren managed to do, but I’m suddenly so fired up for him that I don’t care. I lean back on the bed and pull him toward me until his body is flush with mine. His groan of pleasure matches my own.
“There’s something so hot about knowing you have my baby in here,” Ren breathes against my belly. His hands leave goose bumps in their wake as he runs them along the skin of my hip and waist .
Maybe the pregnancy hormones are on overdrive because I’ve never felt so turned on in my life. Then again, it might just be him. I have no way of deciphering the origin of my feelings, and I have no interest in trying. Not when Ren holds himself over me on his forearms and my hands trail over his hard pecs and abs. I just want one more night with him where my body can feel only pleasure and my brain can take a break from worrying about what the future will hold. His mouth is hot and commanding as he works his way from my stomach to my breasts and closes his mouth over one nipple. “Oh, God!” I cry out so loudly that he stops his gentle assault on every one of my senses and looks at me.
“Did I hurt you?”
Shaking my head, I try to explain, even though I don’t really understand it. “Just sensitive.” My breasts are already a big erogenous zone for me, but now that they’ve been called to action by pregnancy hormones, they’re like a beacon on a dark night, begging to be seen. And touched. “Keep going, please.”
Ren comes to my rescue with guns blazing. “Don’t have to ask me twice.”
His tongue runs light circles around each nipple, sending ripples of heat through my body. I’m dying for him to suck and bite and kiss me. It’s a new sensation of pleasure mixed with an ache that makes me yearn for more. I’m both marveling at how my body has changed in a matter of weeks and telling my brain to shut up for a few minutes so I can enjoy this.
I hum my approval as Ren flips me over and I straddle him, staring down at his hard chest and his beautiful cheekbones. I inhale deeply, and his manly scent of pine and soap is the first smell that makes me feel calm instead of nauseous. He’s the balm to my hormonal spikes.
With a strong hand gripping each hip, Ren moves me up his chest until I’m sitting on his face .
Reaching to the side, I grab a throw pillow and prop it under his head. “Here. That’s more comfortable.
He smiles. “Are you seriously worried about my comfort when I’m getting ready to devour you? I’m like a king at a banquet.”
I shrug. “I can’t help it. I’m a host down to my bones.”
“You,” he rasps against my skin, guiding my hips so they’re locked around his head. Each word vibrates through my center, followed by a surge of pleasure. “Are the perfect host. You are the appetizer…” His kisses burn my skin. “The cocktail, the main course…but I never could wait to get to my dessert. You’re the most alluring goddamn banquet.”
His hands sear my skin in every place he touches, and I sigh as he ravishes me with his tongue. My brain takes a back seat to the ribbons of heat coursing through my veins. I’m fully present and also losing my mind.
I may not be good at feeding myself at regular intervals, but I am very good at knowing what my body really wants. It’s the man who looks like a Greek god and kisses like a saint. The rest of life is negotiable.