Chapter 12 Josie
Twelve
Josie
Three Months Later
Shattered Dreams Become Reality …
Who am I kidding? I keep trying to convince myself I’m inviting him over because it’s the polite thing to do. The truth is I want the man more than I’ve ever wanted anything before in my life.
I never understood sex addiction before now.
Sex was good with Jonah, it was decent with Brett, but I’ve never had a partner so focused on making sure I get mine every single time.
Having it this good all the time, yeah, I’m hooked, and I don’t want rehab.
It’s more than orgasms. The way he looks at me it’s like the whole world stops.
Jonah loved me but it was in this innocent way.
Dean looks at me like he wants to devour me.
He has this hunger about him that makes me feel safe.
He will take on the world to protect me and it’s written in his eyes.
Stirring the pot, I glance at the clock for the third time. It’s Sunday afternoon after a month of consistent time together, especially nights. True to his word, Dean has let me set the pace, especially with Justice.
I have never felt so embraced and not just physically but emotionally. For the first time in a long time, I relax. A month of getting to know him, being with him, and having someone who doesn’t push me beyond what I am ready for is breaking down walls I didn’t know I had built.
The weekends when he has to do club stuff, I miss him. The days I have to work late I am anxiously anticipating getting home where I know he will have picked up Justice and started dinner.
What I have come to realize is, I want him here. I want these casual moments together as much as I want the sensual ones. This anticipation to see him, the butterflies, it’s such an exciting and scary thing. I haven’t felt this way since Jonah.
Justice is running wild around the house. Dean barely gets the first knock before Justice is at the door. I get the door open as Justice grabs him by the hand.
“Dean, you have to see the car wash I built for us. I put it beside Honey’s Hot Rod shop, but we can move it.” He tells him exuberantly. He’s been working on this little town build forever and constantly adding new things like a car wash for his toy cars that change color in water.
“Good evenin’, gorgeous,” Dean says with a kiss to my temple in passing as he takes off with my son.
“Sorry that call took longer than I expected.” He explains when he doesn’t have to.
Dean owns his own construction company. He’s sort of a jack-of-all-trades and Honey called with a kitchen faucet problem.
He left after lunch to go take care of it.
“We gotta come up with what else we need. I thought we’d be building this tonight. You beat me to it.” He taps his cheek while studying the layout they have built in Justice’s room. “Maybe we make a paint and body shop? We could start the design after dinner.”
My heart feels like it might burst. He is attentive in a way no one ever has been for my son.
Is this what life would be like with Jonah?
They have created this whole map and design where Justice colors and cuts while deciding the materials to build whatever comes next for this little township.
Dean has taken us to his friend, Stud’s shop and to the Hellions clubhouse.
It’s a lot to learn and people to remember, but I find they all seem to embrace us as their own.
My family certainly would never be so open and accepting.
“I wasn’t sure if you’d make it back, so I kept goin’ on the wash.” Justice explains as I stand in his doorway observing.
“Told ya I’d be back.” He looks at my son, “man to man, learn early, Justice, give your word, keep your word.”
Justice nods not truly taking in the life lesson just dropped on him. Tears fill my eyes thinking this is what I’ve wanted for my son. A man to use everyday things to teach Justice but also to lead by his own example.
“Dinner’s ready,” I inform them motioning towards the kitchen as I make my way back to the stove to make our plates.
The guys follow, Justice taking his seat, and Dean taking his like he belongs here. It’s natural like we have done this forever. What should feel awkward doesn’t.
“Dean, do you think we need to add a clubhouse like yours across from our garage?” Justice asks stuffing a giant piece of cornbread in his mouth.
“Whatever you want, buddy. You design it and we’ll build it.”
After dinner, I clean up the kitchen wondering if Dean is going home or will he stay the night.
We never really seem to have a plan. Mostly, he tends to fall asleep in my bed after making love and he tends to wake before Justice and head home to shower and ready for his day.
I find the man really likes food though and makes sure he’s back for breakfast with my boy and me.
It's when I glance into the living room, I come to a complete halt.
Dean is on the couch with Justice curled into him holding a book.
Justice is reading to him as Dean gently corrects mispronunciations.
I never asked Dean to help with homework or in this case the baggie books for reading.
He simply sat down and did it. Seeing them together shatters me inside for the dreams I once had and yet puts me back together too.
I used to dream about Jonah being home and reading to Justice.
I grip the kitchen counter trying to stop the tears.
Jonah never got the chance to experience this. Here Dean sits like it’s the most natural thing in his world.
They finish the book and Justice hands Dean another one. “You read to me,” he instructs, and Dean does just that not even noticing me watching them.
In time Justice begins to yawn and before Dean finishes the book, my son is asleep in his arms. Dean lifts him effortlessly, carrying him to bed like he’s done this for Justice’s entire life.
I stay in place pretending like I’m not falling apart as my entire life feels like it’s unraveling inside me.
This is not how it’s supposed to be. Jonah. He should be here and he’s not. The grief washes over me.
Dean comes back, leaning against the counter studying me, “he’s asleep and you’re in a faraway land. Wanna talk about it?”
“Thanks for putting him to bed. You didn’t have to,” the words come out in a hushed whisper as I fight back the tears.
“You’re checkin’ out on me.”
Can I say it out loud? Do I dare tell him the ghost that haunts me will forever overshadow anything we can have? The last time I opened up about the way I can’t let go of Jonah, I got a five-fingerprint necklace that stayed in place for over a week.
I take a deep breath. Dean is not Brett. And if this is going to be something, he needs to know where my heart and head are, right?
“My first husband, before Brett. Jonah. He is Justice’s dad.”
Dean doesn’t make a move. I’m not even sure he breathes.
“He died before Justice was born. In combat. I was pregnant, alone, and away from home trying to figure out life. We had years together before Justice and my son got zero seconds even with his dad. Watching you embrace him the way Jonah would have, it’s beautiful, Dean.”
He takes a soft inhale, “and it’s painful because it’s Jonah’s place.”
I blink in shock. Silence stretches between us as I wait for Dean to be angry at the mention of Jonah. Only he doesn’t get mad. Instead he steps closer, cupping my face gently, he looks in my eyes, “I’m sorry, Jo. I’m sorry the world took him from you both.”
Tears burn behind my eyelids, I am speechless. “I’m sorry, I try to keep Jonah tucked away.”
“What?” He asks with a sad look to his features. “You need to hold onto him. He is Justice’s dad, that never changes, Jo. He was a huge part of your life and still is.”
“That doesn’t bother you?”
“Hell no, I’ll help you hang more pictures all around. I’m not here to erase Jonah. I’m not here to replace him either. There is no way to do that, and no one should want to. Justice came from a special love you shared. Don’t diminish any of that ever, Jo. Not for me, not for anyone.”
My chest tightens as my breath hitches.
“Hold onto him, Jo. Hold onto the memories for Justice and for you. Just don’t let any of it stop you from making new ones. Life is for the living.”
I close my eyes as his words are a balm to my broken heart. For the first time in a very long time, the weight of my past doesn’t feel quite so heavy.
Stepping closer, his eyes look down on me.
The passion in them is ever-present, but the genuine concern and love envelope me in the cocoon of his safety.
Rolling up, I press my lips to his. His hands grip my waist, lifting me to the counter as his mouth crashes onto mine.
We’re moving, colliding, as his hands roam, my hands roam.
Carrying me to my room, I lose track of everything.
I cling to him, needing more, craving these new memories with him.
He moves over me, inside of me, and I’m lost to everything that is completely Dean O’Neal.
The sun dips lower as the day comes to a close, casting this golden glow over the clubhouse and surrounding lot. Laughter echoes around us blending with the classic rock and motorcycles coming and going.
Sara wasn’t kidding. The Hellions don’t do small gatherings. We are at the clubhouse for a barbecue. I made some potato salad, but I don’t think I made enough looking at the cars and bikes. She told me it’s going to be loud, crowded, and full of food. Hopefully someone else made potato salad too.
When Dean asked me to come, I was excited especially because he asked if Justice would be comfortable first. Knowing how much Sara loves these things I said sure.
Here we are.