Author : Georgia Cates This is an unprecedented moment. I’m awake before Jack Henry, studying his sleeping figure—it’s a fine one—but that’s not what makes this morning a new experience. I’m waking next to him as my husband. Wow. I did it. I married a man who propositioned me a year ago, asking me to be hispanion for three months. His idea of our pairing deciphered into something much different back then—an offer of nomittal sex in exchange for the time of my life. Translation? I agreed to be his whore. There, I admit it, and it was the best decision I’ve ever made regardless of what kind of label we place upon it. Now he’s my husband—forever mine—and I couldn’t be happier. No number fourteen for him. Ever. We began as strangers—as most couples do—but our beginning was so much moreplicated. That simple word makes me giggle each time I hear or say it now. There’s never a time I don’t recall the freakish control my husband displayed when he told me he was a man who didn’t doplicated. Damn, was he ever wrong. I turned his world on its head. To know I hold that power over him makes me feel invincible. And adored. Some would consider our inception into this whirlwind a perverted one. Even I did in the beginning, but then we became so much more than either of us intended. Now we’re Mr. and Mrs. Jack Henry McLachlan and this is the beginning of the rest of our lives. We’re setting out into the world to write our own story—in stone, never sand. I look at my husband’s face and see his eyes flutter beneath his lids, a clear indication...
Beauty from Love Beauty from Love Page 1 1 This is an unprecedented moment. I’m awake before Jack Henry, studying his sleeping figure—it’s a fine one—but that’s not what makes this morning a new experience. I’m waking next to him as my husband. Wow. I did it. I married a man who propositioned me a year ago, asking me to be his companion for three months. His idea of our pairing deciphered into something much different back then—an offer of noncommittal sex in exchange for the time of my life. Translation? I agreed to be his whore. There, I admit it, and it was the best decision I’ve ever made regardless of what kind of label we place upon it. Now he’s my husband—forever mine—and I couldn’t be happier. No number fourteen for him. Ever. We began as strangers—as most couples do—but our beginning was so much more complicated. That simple word makes me giggle each time I hear or say it now. There’s never a time I don’t recall the freakish control my husband displayed when he told me he was a man who didn’t do complicated. Damn, was he ever wrong. I turned his world on its head. To know I hold that power over him makes me feel invincible. And adored. Some would consider our inception into this whirlwind a perverted one. Even I did in the beginning, but then we became so much more than either of us intended. Now we’re Mr. and Mrs. Jack Henry McLachlan and this is the beginning of the rest of our lives. We’re setting out into the world to write our own story—in stone, never sand. I look at my husband’s face and see his eyes flutter beneath his lids, a clear indication he’s dreaming, and I wonder what a man like him sees when he’s in the deepest of sleep. Whatever it is, I don’t want to disrupt it so I slide to the edge of the bed in slow motion and place my feet on the floor of the plane’s bedroom suite. I look over my shoulder to make sure I haven’t disturbed his slumber—and he’s unmoving—so I ease from the bed with the agility of a thief in the night. When I’m finished in the bathroom, I return to bed and repeat the same motion in reverse. I’m so pleased with myself because I’ve managed to slip into bed next to Jack Henry without waking him. But then I realize I’m basking in my accomplishment prematurely. He suddenly rises, pinning me beneath him, a huge grin wide across his face. “Mornin’.” He lowers his mouth to mine and kisses me as his grin grows larger, a sweet kiss just on the surface of my lips. “My wife.” He places his forehead against mine. “You know … I think I like the sound of that.” “You better love the sound of it.” “Hmm. Maybe it’ll grow on me with a little time.” I push against Jack Henry’s chest and we roll so I’m on top. “And maybe you’ll grow on me.” I lower my mouth to his as close as possible without our lips touching. “If I try really, really hard.” I move my knees on each side of his hips and slowly grind against him. His hands creep up my thighs until they’re on my waist. “I think something may already be growing on you. Really, really hard.” “You and that mouth of yours, Mr. McLachlan.” “You love this mouth of mine, Mrs. McLachlan, along with everything it does to you.” He’s told me that before. He slides his hands up the sides of my bare body and then quickly turns us so I’m on my back again. His mouth begins a journey at my neck and leaves a trail of wet kisses on its way down until reaching my belly button. “And this tongue of mine. Don’t forget how much you love what it does to you as well.” He dips it inside my navel and I lace my fingers through his hair before dragging my nails across his scalp. “I could never forget about your highly talented tongue. Or how good it made me feel last night.” He looks up at me and beams. “Our wedding night was everything you hoped it would be?” I can’t believe he thinks he has to ask. “It was perfect—everything I dreamed plus a whole lot more I couldn’t have possibly imagined. I didn’t know I could be so happy.” “Last night exceeded my every expectation.” He laces his fingers together and places them on my belly before propping his chin on top. “It was the same physical act we’ve shared countless times but I never imagined it feeling so different as husband and wife.” I run my fingers through his hair again but I’m speechless. I think he’s waiting for me to respond but I can’t because my heart feels like it might explode from the love I have for this man. “Come on, L. You’re making me feel pretty damn sappy since you aren’t saying anything.” I beckon for him to come closer and caress his cheeks once we’re eye to eye. “You’re right. It was a level of intimacy we’ve never shared and I couldn’t feel more connected to you.” He tucks each side of my hair behind my ears before pressing his forehead to mine. “You are my world and I’ll do anything to make you happy.” “You. That’s all it takes to make me smile.” He nuzzles against my neck and I feel the freshly grown scruff on his chin. “Your face was smooth at the wedding yesterday. I can’t believe you already have this much growth.” He reaches up and strokes his chin with his hand. “Is it too rough for you?” “No. I like you with stubble. It’s sexy. I wouldn’t mind you growing it a little.” “But just a very light beard, right? Nothing heavy like I had several months ago?” I’ve never seen him with heavy growth. “I didn’t know you grew a beard.” “I fell into a depression and sort of let myself go for a while when a certain unnamed young lady left me without a word.” He isn’t the only one who was in a bad place. “I was depressed too but I didn’t grow a beard. I took the highlights out of my hair—the lighter streaks didn’t seem to go with the darkness I felt.” “When my beard grew out, I found highlights.” He points to his temples. “And several here on each side.” I grab his face and turn it to the side for a better look. “Really?” “Yeah. Gray ones,” he laughs. “Are you really oblivious to the fact that you just married an old man?” I turn his face back so he’s looking at me. “You’re thirty. That’s not old. Got it?” He playfully rubs his nose against mine, giving me an Eskimo kiss. “Your disappearance put me through hell so I blame you for giving me my first gray hairs.”
Beauty from Love Beauty from Love Page 2 He rubs his nose up the length of my neck. “Does that mean you won’t get any more since I’m never leaving again? Even if you toss me out on my keister?” “Sorry. I’m afraid it’s inevitable. I got my hair from Dad and he was mostly salt with little pepper by forty-five. That doesn’t leave you many years with a youthful-looking husband.” I’m imagining Jack Henry with gray hair in place of his near black. I’m certain he’s going to be like Richard Gere and only get better looking with age. “So when people see us together ten years from now, they’ll think I’m some sweet young thing on the arm of my sugar daddy?” He’s laughing. “No, they’ll see our swarm of mini-Laurelyns buzzing around us and know I was smart enough to make you mine while I was still young and had a chance with you.” “Exactly how many children are in a swarm?” His lips next to my ear, he whispers, “Several.” I won’t be distracted by the stir his nearness causes in my groin. “‘Several’ is a number that may vary quite a bit depending on who you’re talking to.” His fingers lace through the nape of my hair and his thumb rubs that spot below my ear. “You once told me you saw yourself with three.” “Three is a few—which isn’t several.” “I know but I’d like to talk you into more.” He runs his nose down the length of my neck again and I feel his warm breath on my skin. He knows how much that turns me on. “And I’d like to persuade you into starting on the first one right now.” He didn’t want a wife or children when we met. Somewhere in the theory of my future, I wanted a husband—which I now have—but I’d like to wait on the children. I want to enjoy us before a baby is added to the mix. “Why are you so anxious? We haven’t been married a full day yet. Don’t you want time for the two of us?” He rolls onto his back and stares at the ceiling. “What’s going on with you and this rush to start having babies right away?” He sighs and turns onto his side so we’re facing one another. “Dad’s side of the family has a significant history of heart disease and heart attacks. He’s fifty-five and has already had his first episode. His brother wasn’t fifty when he had his first heart attack. I’m afraid that’ll be me in twenty years, so I feel like waiting to start our family is wasting time I could be spending with our children while I’m still young and healthy.” This is the reason he hoped I was pregnant. He’s afraid of dying young. I had no idea he had this fear bottled inside him. “You don’t know that you’ll have those kinds of problems.” “You don’t know that I won’t.” He reaches for the back of my neck and pulls my face to his. “Promise me you’ll think about it.” This beautiful man wants to create a life with me—little people that look like us. Isn’t that what he once told me he saw when he imagined his future with me? I want him to have everything his heart desires—and this is something only I can give him—so how can I not consider it? “I’ll think about it. Promise.” “Thank you.” He kisses my mouth so lovingly. It isn’t urgent as many of our kisses are. It’s sweet, and he makes me feel so beloved. “I love you so much, L.” “And I love you but I need you to promise me you’ll share these fears and concerns. I’m your wife and I want to know everything. Your hopes. Your dreams. And especially your fears.” He needs to see he shouldn’t keep these things from me. He touches his finger to the tip of my nose. “You. You’re what my hopes and dreams are made of.” I pull him back on top of me. “You know exactly what to say to get into a girl’s panties.” He runs his hands over each of my bare hips. “I think you’d need to be wearing knickers in order for me to get into them but you’re not, Mrs. McLachlan.” “Oops.” I cover my mouth with my fingers. “You’re right. Mr. McLachlan took them off hours ago.” “You never put them back on and now you’re under me, completely naked.” I bring my legs up and squeeze him closer. “For good reason. Easier access.” He rubs the back of my thighs, squeezing them. “Easier access. I like that. You should go without knickers all the time.” “Maybe I will.” Jack Henry possesses my mouth as I lower my hands down his back until I have two handfuls of his perfect ass. “I love your … bum.” He moves from my mouth to the side of my face and then on to that special place below my ear. “My bum, huh?” His voice is a breathy whisper. “Is my Yank wife turning Aussie so soon?” “Maybe.” His mouth creeps down my neck. “Probably. I see no reason to fight it since I’m here to stay.” I feel a sudden drop in the plane’s altitude. Jack Henry lifts his face to look at me but he doesn’t appear alarmed. “I think we’re descending.” He leans over to take his phone from the bedside table. “Dammit. The flight is right on time.” A pilot’s voice comes over the overhead speaker. “We’re beginning our descent into Maui so our flight will be landing as scheduled in approximately fifteen minutes. It’s been a pleasure serving you, Mr. and Mrs. McLachlan. Looks like you’ll be having beautiful weather for the duration of your honeymoon. Maui is currently seventy degrees and sunny with a high of eighty-three later today.” I make my pouty face. “Only fifteen minutes.” “I know. It’s not enough time for me to do what I want to you. And we still have to get dressed and be in our seats for the landing.” He gives me one last kiss. “We’ll have plenty of time to do everything we want once we’re on the ground. We’re here as long as we want to be.” He kisses me chastely and gets up. He’s naked, his back to me as he stands, searching through the suitcase for a change of clothes. I take a few seconds to admire his physique. He’s so beautiful. And all mine. I get up and walk over to grab something to wear. I opt for the first outfit I find since the clock is ticking. A strappy floral sundress with a fuchsia cardigan packed right on the top. It should look lovely with the lei I’ll be given when we land. We’re dressed with clean faces and freshly brushed teeth when we buckle into our seats. We have maybe one whole minute to spare, but I plan on indulging in a long, hot bath—hopefully with Jack Henry joining me—once we arrive at our hotel. I hope our suite has a huge shower to accommodate both of us because I have lots of naughty things I want to do to him.
Beauty from Love Beauty from Love Page 3 He holds my hand as the plane touches down and I’m immediately relieved. I grew a little more accustomed to flying while touring with Southern Ophelia but I’m still happier when my feet are on solid ground. “Have you visited Hawaii often?” “Yes. Quite a few times.” He brings my hand to his lips and kisses my knuckles. “I’m glad your first time is with me.” I wonder what brought him to Hawaii. A family trip, perhaps? Maybe business. Or possibly pleasure with a companion. A pang of jealousy strikes within. I wish I wasn’t on my honeymoon thinking of such things but I’m curious by nature. “How many times have you visited?” He answers immediately, “A lot. I couldn’t even take a guess at a number. Dad spent the year working like crazy but he’d take off for two weeks after harvest season so we could come here. It’s my mum’s favorite getaway so she’d bring us even when Dad was too busy to come. We always stayed at the same house—it felt like my second childhood home.” “So you were always with your family?” “No. I came once without them.” “You came alone or with a friend?” I shouldn’t ask since I might get an answer I won’t like. “Friends.” Plural. What does that mean? Friends, like the ones everyone has or the kind of friends only he has? I mean had. He’s laughing but I’m not. “Friends?” “Well, I guess drunken college buddies is probably a more accurate description of the company I kept the time I came without my family.” Oh—that I can handle. “You and your pals came here to party?” “Yeah, but only once during break. The guys wrecked the place and the owner was furious. The damage wasn’t minimal. Mum paid for it but threatened to beat me within an inch of my life if it ever happened again.” He’s grinning. “I knew she wasn’t kidding so I never brought them back.” “I bet Margaret wanted to beat your ass.” “There was definitely some smacking with a purse. She loves to do that. She knows it doesn’t hurt but it sounds like it does so she enjoys it. And it’s dramatic. She did that to me in front of my mates. God, I was humiliated. But of course, that’s why she did it.” I’m laughing as I imagine my mother-in-law clobbering her college-age son with her handbag in front of his friends. “Have you seen her in action? She should’ve been a professional boxer. She can get at least three good licks in before your brain has time to register that you’re being smacked.” I love Margaret so much. She’s going to be the best mother-in-law I could ever wish for. I could stand to learn a thing or two from her. “I’m going to have her teach me her moves.” “Baby, please don’t. I can’t take any more unnecessary roughness. Unless you want to get unruly with me in the bedroom.” He leans over to kiss the side of my neck and my skin instantly prickles while something stirs deep within my belly. He loves doing that to me. “Down, boy. We’re not at the hotel yet.” He leans back and I can tell he’s fighting a grin. “What? Are you up to something, Mr. McLachlan?” “Maybe, but it’s a surprise, Mrs. McLachlan. One I can’t wait to show you.” The car stops only moments before Jack Henry’s warm hand squeezes mine gently. I recognize the sound of an opening car door. I’m guessing the driver is probably waiting for us to get out. “Can you see anything through your blindfold?” That’s right. My husband has blindfolded me in the car, not the bedroom. “No. Not a thing.” And I can’t. All I see is total blackness and it’s disorienting. But not as much as what we’re doing now. It’s becoming more and more evident that we aren’t at a hotel. This is something entirely different. I feel him slide across the seat away from me as he tugs on my hand. “This way, love.” I step out of the car and hear waves in the distance as I breathe in the salty air. We’re at the beach and I’m confused. I don’t understand why he’d bring me here directly from the airport instead of checking into our room so we could take a hot shower after our long flight. It’s too early to swim. And I’m in a sundress, not a swimsuit. These are the thoughts of a nagging wife so I hastily put them away. What do I have to complain about? I’m married to the man of my dreams and he treats me like a queen. I could do much, much worse. “Walk this way.” I take a few baby steps in the direction he’s pulling me. I can’t see but it feels like he’s walking backward as he holds both of my hands. “Don’t be afraid, L. I won’t let you fall. Ever.” I don’t doubt him for a moment. “I trust that you won’t, but I have an innate instinct telling me I will so it’s hard to ignore.” “Not much further.” It’s not sand I’m walking on. It feels firm, like concrete or asphalt, but I take about twenty more steps before we stop. “I’m taking your blindfold off but I want you to keep your eyes closed until I tell you to open them.” “Okay.” He removes my blinder and the sun shines directly on my face. I feel its warmth against my skin and see its brightness on the other side of my closed lids. “You can open them.” The breeze from the ocean blows a strand of hair into my face and lodges itself in the slit of one my eyes. I shake my head to make my hair fall over one shoulder. When I straighten, I look before me and see a magnificent beachfront home. I wait for him to say something—give me an idea about what we’re doing here—but he doesn’t. “Is this where we’re staying?” “Yes.” He’s beaming, appearing so proud of himself. Maybe he’s pleased he has pulled one over on me because he has. I completely expected a honeymoon suite in one of Maui’s finest hotels but this is so much better. “Do you like it?” Now I’m the one grinning like the Cheshire cat because I know this means we don’t have to be quiet. We can lose control without the fear of being heard by others. “Are you kidding me? It’s breathtaking. Who wouldn’t love it?” I wrap my arms around him and squeeze his middle. “This is going to be so much better than a hotel.” “This is it—the house I was telling you about. My vacation home as a child.” Oh my. I can’t believe he brought me to the place he thought of as his second home while growing up. “Oh, Jack Henry.”
Beauty from Love Beauty from Love Page 4 “It wasn’t possible for me to come to Maui with my bride and not stay here.” He would’ve been so limited on time when planning our honeymoon. I can’t believe a place like this would have a vacancy. “Then we’re incredibly lucky it was available for rent on such short notice.” He beams before turning me so I’m facing the house. Behind me, he snakes his arms around my waist and pulls me tight against him, his mouth next to my ear. “I own it, L. I bought it for you. It’s your wedding gift.” I turn my face toward him and his stubble grazes me. “I want to spend the rest of our lives making happy memories here with you and our children.” Omigod. Best. Husband. Ever. 2 I once thought I didn’t want a wife and kids but it was because I hadn’t met the right person. Everything is different now—I’m married to the perfect woman and I can’t wait until she becomes the mother of my children. I’m glad L asked me why I was anxious to begin our family. I’m not sure I would’ve ever been brave enough to volunteer that information. Fear. It’s not something a man likes to admit but that’s the beauty of my relationship with L. I can tell her anything. She turns in my arms and kisses me between words. “You. Are. Amazing.” “I’m glad you think so since it seems you’re stuck with me for the rest of our lives.” “Happily stuck by choice. There’s a difference.” I watch the sun dance on her face as the palm tree leaves above move in the breeze. A shorter strand of hair at her temple has escaped her grasp and I tuck it behind her ear. “Are you truly happy?” “It isn’t possible for me to be happier than I am in this moment.” I grasp her face and look into her golden-brown eyes. I see her sincerity and know her words are true. She didn’t marry me for any reason other than her love for me, so Laurelyn Paige Prescott McLachlan is a woman to be treasured. “Nor could I.” I lean down to scoop her from the ground and she squeals. “I think it’s time I carried my bride across the threshold. I want you to see the rest of the house.” I turn the knob and gently push the door open with my foot. L is like a wide-eyed child. I return her to her feet and her head oscillates slowly as she takes it all in. The floor plan is open so she’s able to see the living room along with the kitchen and dining room. She says nothing and I can’t tell if she likes it or not. “What are you thinking?” “How much I love you,” she says, propelling herself into my arms for a kiss. “You take care of me,” she says against my mouth. “No one’s ever done that before.” It’s a shame. She should’ve been cared for by loving parents. But she wasn’t, and it’s shaped her into the person she is today. I don’t know how she’s not utterly damaged but she’s the complete opposite—the strongest person I know. I wonder who she would’ve been if they’d treated her the way they should have. I give her a quick kiss and take her hand. “Come. I want to show you the rest.” I begin with the five smaller bedrooms and work our way toward the master suite. I ask her to close her eyes. I cover them with one hand and use the other to lead her into the center of the room. I like this grown-up game of peekaboo. “No peeping.” “I’m not. And I don’t have X-ray vision so I can’t see through flesh and bone.” “True.” I take my hand away once she’s facing the bed. “Okay. Open your eyes.” She softly gasps as she scans the room—our newly remodeled master suite. “I was only able to have this room and one other remodeled since the purchase was so rushed. Do you like it?” “I love it. I couldn’t have chosen anything more perfect.” She turns in my arms and slides her hands up to my shoulders. “Or sexier.” This is my first time seeing it as well and I’m pleased with the results, although it’s very different from our bedroom at Avalon. This is a lot girlier, yet not emasculating. It’s lighter. The walls are pale beige, almost white. It’s going to reflect the morning sun even with the drapes pulled, so I doubt there’ll be much sleeping late in here. I don’t mind because I’m an early riser, but it could be a problem for L. She loves her sleep. There’s fabric and upholstery everywhere. Coordinated shades of pale blue, beige, and cream dominate; plenty of candles wait to be lit. It smells heavenly—much like the red currant L loves so much. I don’t have to work hard to imagine what this bedroom suite will look like lit up tonight or how beautiful L will look illuminated by candlelight. I’m so glad she approves. “I think the designer did a great job. I gave her full control. The only requirement was that she make it romantic.” “Mission accomplished.” L walks toward the bed and runs her hand down the post. I wonder if she thinks I made a special request for that. I didn’t, but I admit it’s a very nice surprise. “This is absolutely amazing. Makes me want to stay in bed all day—with you.” “Then I believe I owe Miss Rutledge a bonus for a job well done.” I take her hand and lead her toward the small sitting room currently occupied by a chaise with a side table. It’s not a huge area but it’ll suffice for what I have in mind. “I was thinking this would make a perfect nursery. It isn’t big but I think it’ll hold a crib and changing table. Maybe a rocking chair in the corner.” She’s quiet as she looks around the room and I fear I may have pushed her too hard, too soon. That’s not my intention at all. I don’t mean to press her. It’s only been an hour since our conversation—and she told me she’d think about trying to have a baby—so I need to back off before I anger her. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think of how that sounded until I heard myself saying it.” I pull her into my arms and kiss the top of her head. “I’m sure I’ve bombarded you with the baby-making talk but I promise I’m not ignoring your need to think it over.” “It’s okay. You’re being honest with me about what you want and the reason why. I could never be upset with you about yearning to start a family with me.” She twists in my arms so we’re facing one another. “The baby-making part doesn’t scare me. We’ve had a lot of fun practicing, but I worry about the after part. We’ve had so little time together.”
Beauty from Love Beauty from Love Page 5 An hour isn’t even close to long enough. She needs way more time to sort this out. “I think it’s a good idea to put the baby talk on the back burner for now.” “Agreed.” I kiss the side of her face. “I have something else to show you.” We walk the hall toward the other remodeled room. “This is a vacation home and it often houses two families, so it has two master suites.” “Another romantic getaway?” I laugh inwardly. “Not exactly.” I grasp the knob. “Close your eyes.” “This is becoming a habit for you.” She does as I tell her so I open the door and lead her into the second master suite. “You can open your eyes now.” Her eyes are wide as she assesses her surroundings. Mirrored walls. Overhead lights. A stage. A pole. She’s grinning so I take that as a good sign. She walks up the steps onto the stage and runs her hand up the golden brass. “Wow. This room is a little presumptuous on your part, Mr. McLachlan. One might assume you have an obsession with pole dancers.” She has no idea. I join her on the stage and place my hands on her hips, pushing her backward until she’s pressed against the brass extending from floor to ceiling. “I have an obsession with one.” She reaches for the button of my jeans and pulls it free. She looks down—and so do I—to watch her skillful fingers push the zipper of my pants down. Then her hands are inside the waistband of my boxer briefs, shoving them down. “I may have my own obsession.” And like a scene worthy of any man’s sexual fantasy, L drops to her knees before me. Oh God. My wife is so smokin’ hot. How did I get so lucky? She looks up at me from her knees, the same way she’s done countless times before, and it couldn’t be sexier. Until I see her tongue stroke me from base to tip. I want to close my eyes and become totally lost but I can’t stop watching her mouth on me. It’s too fucking hot. She goes through a series of motions. Fast. Slow. Soft. Hard. I can’t predict what’s coming next and I fucking love it. She’s at it no more than a minute and I’m almost ready to come because she’s too damn good at this, but her mouth isn’t where I want to come. I tap the top of her head. “Stop, L.” She does and I help my wife to her feet. My hands go fishing beneath her dress where I grasp her almost nonexistent knickers and drag them down her legs. She steps out one foot at a time and kicks the two white lacy triangles aside. She sheds her cardigan and pulls her dress over her head before chucking it across the stage. She’s left wearing only her bra and heels, though not for long. The bra is going, but not the heels. Those stay. I step back and behold the lovely sight of my bride. Laurelyn is absolutely the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. I can’t believe I get to call her mine forever. I’m a fortunate man. She gives me a come-hither motion with her finger and I obey. I have no choice because I’m hers to do with as she pleases. This woman owns me completely. “Inside me. Now.” She reaches over her head and grasps the pole tightly. She lifts her lower body to wrap her legs around me and I understand the position she has in mind. My girl is strong. Most women don’t possess the physical strength it takes to do the things she’s capable of on a pole. “This is new. I like it.” She frees one hand and pulls my face to hers for an urgent kiss, and I’m again made aware of the physical power she possesses. “Wrong. You’re gonna love it,” she whispers as she sinks down, pushing me deep inside her. I groan with pleasure and grasp her bum so I can move with her in perfect rhythm. I thrust hard and she matches me evenly. My girl does me fucking proud but it doesn’t last near as long as I’d like. She brought me close to the edge using her mouth so I’m ahead of her. I know I am. She gave me a huge head start so I slow down—I’m not crossing the finish line without her. I bring my fingers around to her most sensitive spot. I rub it in no particular order, the way she did when she went down on me. Fast. Slow. Soft. Hard. And I know when her breathing picks up that she’s close. And then it’s over for me as I explode inside her. “I. Love. You. L.” I’m buried deep inside her and she has no reply for me, but I know why. I feel the ripple of her body tightening around my cock and know she’s too preoccupied with her own climax to respond. When it’s over for her, she lets go of the pole and wraps both arms around my shoulders. “I love you too,” she says, kissing my mouth. She holds on tightly, trembling. I’m guessing it’s overuse of her muscles since she hasn’t had a workout like that in a while. “I think I’m a wee bit out of practice. I’ll be feeling the results of that little trick all week.” I don’t want her sore on our honeymoon. There’s way too much I want to do with her. “You should take a soak in the tub. It’ll help relax your muscles and then I’ll give you a massage when you’re out.” She looks up at me so adoringly and stretches on her toes to nuzzle my nose. She isn’t tall enough so I lean down and meet her halfway. “Mmm. I was right. You’re definitely the best husband ever.” “I’m just getting started, babe. You haven’t seen anything yet.” I carry her to the bath—not because I don’t trust her legs—but because I want to. I set her down and make her sit on the vanity stool. She laughs and says I’m being ridiculous but I don’t care. I can never overdo it when it comes to her comfort. I turn on the water and the room quickly becomes a sauna. “Check the water to be sure it’s not too hot for you.” She gets up and walks over to the tub to dip her fingers under the stream. “Perfect.” She slips off her heels, which managed to stay on during the transport here, and she’s instantly at least three inches shorter. “Will you soak with me? I wasn’t the only one exerting my body.” I had planned on checking in at the vineyards while she soaked but how could I possibly decline an invitation like that? “Absolutely, but let me get your body wash and shampoo first.” I return with her bath supplies and shed my pants, which somehow didn’t manage to get removed during our sexual escapade. We step into the tub together. I sit first, per our routine, and then L lowers herself gracefully as ever into her usual spot between my legs so she can lean back against my chest. I revel in the simple feel of my beloved’s skin against mine.
Beauty from Love Beauty from Love Page 6 This is how life should be. No more emptiness in three-month affairs with women I don’t care to know. I can’t believe I once found—whatever the right word is—in what I used to do. It certainly wasn’t happiness or fulfillment. I don’t have a label for it. L is my everything and there’s no going back. I wouldn’t have it any other way. I run my hands along her hips, massaging them under the water. I feel something stuck to one of them. It feels like a sticker and the corner pulls up more and more as I rub so I give it a yank. She gasps and I immediately know I’ve done wrong. “Jack Henry!” Oh hell. I think I’m in trouble. “Should I have not done that?” “No. You shouldn’t have.” “I’m sorry, L.” I hold up the flesh-colored square and she goes pale. “I thought it was some kind of sticker accidentally stuck on your bum. What is this?” “It was my birth control patch.” “Oh.” She’s going to think I took it off on purpose because of the baby talk. She’s probably going to be pissed off at me the rest of our honeymoon—or cut me off so she won’t get pregnant. Shit. “I didn’t know. I swear. Do you have another one to put on?” I move to get out of the tub. “I’ll get it for you right now.” She stops me by grabbing my hand. “I have one left but it’s for next week. I’ll be short one week of hormones so that’s probably as good as not wearing one at all.” “Please don’t be mad. It was a stupid move but I didn’t know.” She relaxes against me again and I breathe a sigh of relief. “It’s okay. I told you I started new birth control so I’m sure you assumed it was the pill. I guess I should’ve told you what kind so we’d be on the same page.” I didn’t know the ramifications of my actions but it doesn’t stop me from feeling as though I’ve wronged her. “I told you I refused to wear condoms on our honeymoon but I will. I deserve that for being stupid enough to yank off that patch without asking what it was first.” “Baby, it’s okay. You don’t have to do that. Rubbers aren’t fun for you or me. I used a spermicide as backup last night. We’ll just use that the next couple of weeks and I’ll restart the patch next month. I hadn’t been on it long anyway.” I’m lucky. She could seriously be giving me shit right now. “Thank you for not being angry with me.” “There’s nothing to be angry about, McLachlan.” “You say that now but what will your feelings be if you end up with a bun in the oven because I ripped that thing off your arse?” She leans her head back and tilts her face to kiss my chin. “I would think it takes two to tango and it’s meant to be.” 3 I’m confused. I’ve always associated dark sand with unattractiveness but this isn’t. It’s … breathtaking. “Black sand.” I hear the surprise in my own voice. “This isn’t at all what I expected to see on a Hawaiian beach.” Jack Henry laughs at me, apparently entertained by my astonishment. “It’s another reason I love this place so much. It’s different from the beach at my Auckland house. Polar opposites.” I rake my toes through it. “Had I known it was black, I wouldn’t have expected much so I’m glad you didn’t mention it.” He prepares my lounger, spreading a towel across the cushion. “The lava of an erupting volcano rushes into the ocean and it cools when it hits the water. The waves force it back onto the beach and that’s why the sand is black.” I sit on the chair. “My husband, the environmental scientist. Who knew?” Jack Henry repeats the same process on the second lounger and then joins me. He’s wearing my favorite sunglasses and I can see my reflection when he looks my way. “So this little piece of heaven is your private beach?” “It’s our private beach, Laurelyn. Everything of mine is now yours. You’re going to need to get used to that.” I unfasten the back of my bikini top and allow it to drop. “Then it’s okay for me to do this?” “Damn, L,” he laughs while scanning the property for prying eyes. “It’s ours, and it’s private, but that doesn’t stop the occasional beachgoer from stumbling across here.” “Well, I guess they’ll think they’ve happened upon a topless beach.” I toss my bright red top over and it lands on Jack Henry’s chest. “Because I’m not putting it back on.” “Damn rebel.” “Damn right.” I lie on the lounger, basking in the sun. I love the outdoors; it’s still the only place where I feel completely free. As a child, going outside was my only escape from her. My mom was always hungover—except when she was high—so the house was forever dark, dreary, and cold. I wasn’t allowed to open the curtains for sunlight. The brightness hurt her eyes and prevented her from sleeping all day so she could party all night. Lifting a window for fresh air was out of the question since it allowed her precious, frigid air conditioning to escape. Those were bad days. Bad years. I don’t want to think about those times and ruin this perfect moment. The weather is beautiful and I’m soaking in the sunshine. I have my man by my side; therefore, I want for nothing. Everything in the world is right. “You’re doing some serious thinking over there.” How can he possibly tell? I turn to look at him. “How do you know?” He points toward my thigh. “You’re tracing the infinity symbol on your leg with your fingertip. It gives you away every time. ” I didn’t realize I was doing that, but he did. He always does. “What’s on your mind, babe?” Do I brush the thoughts of my childhood away, keeping it to myself so I don’t ruin this perfection? Or do I put it out there so Jack Henry can know a little more about the wretched past that makes me who I am today? He already dislikes my mom. I’m certain this will only add fuel to his contempt—but he’s straight up asking, so it doesn’t feel right to keep it from him. “When I was a kid, the outdoors was one of my only escapes from my mom when she was high or hungover. I feel my freest when I’m in the sun.” He doesn’t reply and I’m pretty sure it’s because he’s fuming. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything. I’ve ruined this beautiful moment.”
Beauty from Love Beauty from Love Page 7 Our loungers are side by side, close enough that my hand is within his reach. “You haven’t ruined anything.” He strokes his thumb across the top of my hand and it finds its way to my wedding ring. “I’m your husband so I want to know everything. The good and the bad.” Most of the good has happened since I met him but what about the ugly? Is he really ready to hear that stuff? “I want to ask you a question about the wedding.” Sounds like he’s preparing me for something bad. He never tells me he’s going to ask a question. “Okay.” “Why did you let your dad walk you down the aisle? He’s never been a father to you so I don’t understand how you felt like he deserved that honor.” His voice is oozing with contempt for the sperm donor. I didn’t wimp out, if that’s what Jack Henry thinks. I’m done with flaking. There’s only one reason I allowed Jake to do it. Irony. “Think about it. He claims me as his daughter and his first official act as my father is to give me over to you—a strong, honorable man who will always take care of me. I thought it was quite fitting.” “Huh,” he says. “I was worried your mother guilted you into doing it but I should’ve known better. That’s not who you are.” “She thinks she convinced me. I choose to let her believe that but I have the pleasure of knowing otherwise.” “My wife, the satirist. I’ll know better than to ever cross you.” “You will if you know what’s good for you.” “I’m not mistaken about what’s good for me. It’s you, L. Always you.” Oh, sheez. Hearing him say that almost makes my bikini bottom melt away. I get up and take his hands. “You think I’m good for you, huh?” I pull so he knows I want him to slide to the foot of the lounger. “I know so. No doubts.” I grin as I push my thumbs inside the band of my swimsuit and shimmy out of it. “I know something else that’s good for you.” I kick out of the red fabric at my ankles and step closer to Jack Henry. He grabs my ass and I squeal as he pulls me closer. He watches my face as he slides his hand between my legs. “And I also know what’s good for you.” He rubs his hand up and down, back and forth, in an exquisite torture, before gliding his fingers through my slick center. Yet I know what he’s doing when he avoids my most sensitive area, the spot where I crave his touch most. It’s purposeful on his part because he wants to feel me ride his hand. And I give in because I have no choice. I grab his wrist and guide his hand upward while rocking my hips against it. I’m worse than any petted cat. And I’m pretty sure he loves it. “More,” I plead. He crooks his thumb and rewards me by stroking my clit. “My girl is greedy.” He has no idea. My head is spinning because I want him so much. “I want you inside me when I come,” I tell him while reaching for his swim trunks. He makes no haste in helping me get them down and then I crawl over him. I sink down hard so he’s deep inside me and he returns his hand to its previous task. “Is this what you want?” He knows it is. “Yes!” I move up and down, sliding him in and out, gaining unrestrained pleasure as his hand rubs my clit. I arch my back and thrust my breasts forward as I hold his shoulders. “I want to feel you come all around me, L.” And I do. I feel those familiar quivers squeezing Jack Henry while he’s inside me. Seconds later, I recognize the telltale rhythmic quivering and know he’s met his undoing before I ever hear him groan my name. Nothing beats both of us coming at the same time. He grabs my face and kisses me hard. When he finishes, he presses his forehead against mine. I think he loves doing that. I know I do because it makes me feel so adored. “You and I are going to have an amazing life together. I’m going to make certain of it.” “I know.” And I do. There’s not a bit of doubt in my mind. “Wanna go skinny-dippin’?” “With you?” He sucks my bottom lip into his mouth and then lets it go. “Absolutely.” I lean closer to the mirror as I apply eyeliner. Jack Henry slinks up behind me to sneak his hand up my sundress and down my panties. I stop lining my eyes and look at his reflection. I’d like to be irritated with him but I can’t be when I see his crooked grin. “You must know this is a good way for your wife to lose an eye.” “What?” “Sneaking up to put your hand down my panties while I have a stick near my cornea is never a good idea.” He palms my bare cheek. “We’ve been here twelve hours and haven’t christened our honeymoon bed yet.” Good grief, I married a horny bastard. “We consummated our marriage in the sky. We did it up against a pole as soon as we got here. And then got naked at the beach and did it again. We managed all of that in less than twenty-four hours. The bed will have to wait until we get back from dinner.” “I love the way you say we did it instead of saying we had sex or we fucked.” He slides his hands around to my belly and sucks my earlobe into his mouth. “It makes you sound so sweet and innocent.” I’m sweet because I’m not going to let him get a raging hard-on when I already know we’re not christening that bed right now. “No.” I swat his hands away. “We have reservations in forty-five minutes and we’re not going to be late because you messed up my hair and makeup wallowing me around in that bed.” He sighs but knows I’m right. “Okay.” He leans around and watches my face in the mirror as he presses his partial erection against my bottom. “But I’m only backing down because I plan on fucking you like a champion as soon as we get back.” “All right, McLachlan.” I rub my bottom against him since he wants to play like that. “I look forward to being fucked like a champion.” He grinds against me. “Mmm … I love hearing you say things like that. Turns me on.” I could say a lot more but I won’t because it would just end up with us in that bed and I need to finish getting ready. “I love you but you’ve gotta go away so I can finish.” He holds his hands up in surrender. “I get it. I’m leaving you alone.” He kisses the side of my neck and growls. “But only for now.” “I’ll hold you to that promise later.”
Beauty from Love Beauty from Love Page 8 We arrive at the restaurant and a hostess escorts us down a path lined with lit tiki torches through a garden with waterfalls and tropical foliage. I realize we’ll be seeing a dinner show—a luau—when we’re led to a table with a stage and stunning oceanfront backdrop. I’m not at all surprised to be seated on the first row, obviously the best seats available. My man doesn’t do second rate. The sun dances just above the water’s surface. We’re seated at the perfect time to watch it set. I reach under the table for Jack Henry’s hand. “Nothing could be more romantic than this.” He leans over and kisses the side of my neck just below my ear. “I thought our first night in Maui should be a traditional one.” He gestures toward the empty seats next to us. “Which means we’ll share this table with strangers. It’s the way it’s done, I’m afraid.” “It’ll be fun.” “Maybe. But if they know what’s good for them, they won’t put wife swappers at this table.” “Definitely not.” I remember the way Jack Henry put swinger Chris on his ass when he expressed interest in fucking me. Those were such different times for us. “I don’t need my husband punching anyone in the face tonight.” “I might not mind an indecent proposal from some swingers.” He moves his hand to my leg and strokes it. “I seem to remember a mighty fine reward for coming to your defense.” “The compensation is the same if you don’t get into a fight. You’d just be making extra work for yourself.” I grab his hand from my leg and bring it to my mouth for a kiss. “And busted knuckles.” “Oh. Well, in that case, no sucker punches tonight.” “Thank you.” Our tablemates—a husband and very pregnant wife with three young boys and a toddler girl—fill our table to capacity. I have spent much less time around children than Jack Henry but even I know this is going to be entertaining. His eyes immediately hone in on this picture-perfect family and he slips his arm around me. He gives my arm a slight squeeze and I’m pretty sure I can accurately guess what he’s thinking—that’ll be us one day. And it will be. It’s not a question of if, but when. “Hello,” the couple says in unison as they assist their children into their seats. “Hello.” We mimic their greeting. The wife settles the baby girl into a high chair. “We didn’t realize we’d be seated with anyone but we’ll try to keep the circus to a minimum. Won’t we, boys?” The boys do a fair job of ignoring their mother so I take that as a bad sign and a likely indicator of the free show to come. “It’s okay. We’re used to kids.” Jack Henry looks at me and shrugs. It’s a half-truth because he’s very used to children. Me … not so much. “You must have left yours at home?” the husband asks. “No. We don’t have children yet. We’re here on our honeymoon.” “Then congratulations are in order.” “Thank you.” We continue the small talk with the couple briefly before the server brings our first round of mai tais. “Wow. That’s beautiful.” It’s a tall, stemmed glass curved in the center, the dark rum collecting in the bottom. Each is garnished with a tiny umbrella, pineapple slices, and cherries with a lovely purple orchid next to a sprig of mint leaf. I can smell the liquor as soon as it’s placed in front of me. I’ll need to show restraint so I don’t get wasted. “I must admit I don’t feel very masculine with such a pretty drink in my hand.” Jack Henry holds his glass toward mine for a toast. “Here’s to us and a very long and happy life together.” I touch my glass to his. “Thank you for making me your wife.” I lean over and a place a kiss against his lips. “Yuck! That’s so gross. I may throw up.” I hear gagging noises from one of the boys across the table, followed by a chastisement and apology from his mother. I silently pray this isn’t what we have to look forward to during the entire dinner but I soon discover it’s only the beginning. The boys’ antics alternate between booger picking, booger eating, making fart sounds—some, I question the authenticity of—a stunning display of controlled chaos. Jack Henry squeezes my hand as he leans over to whisper in my ear. “They’re little boys trying to get the attention of my pretty girl. Ignore them or it’ll get worse. Trust me.” He knows children. I don’t so I take his advice. The night seems to take a turn for the better once I no longer appear preoccupied by the mischievous boys. And the fire-knife show holds their attention, preventing any further performance out of them. I’m in the midst of clapping for the fire-breather when one of the performers comes into the audience and grabs my hand to take me on stage. I’m surprised because I didn’t see it coming but I should’ve known. Shows like these always select people from the crowd to participate in the performance. I turn to look back at Jack Henry and see him grinning and clapping as I walk away from the table. He probably volunteered me and paid them to put me in a string bikini so I could dance on stage for him. Horny bastard. I’ll get him for this if I find out he’s behind it. I’m quickly given directions about my performance while shoved behind a divider to change into an orange bandeau top and green hula skirt. I come out and costume designers surround me—and the others pulled from the audience—to place flowers around our heads and ankles. I’m handed two feathered rattles. “The girls will demonstrate the motions. There will be a series of hand, hip, and foot motions. They’ll introduce them slowly, one at a time—nothing complicated. All you have to do is mimic what they show you.” My man is so gonna love this. 4 I watch the show with much enthusiasm but not because of a particularly spectacular performance. I’ve attended countless luaus. Although this one is quite good, it’s L’s performance I’m anxious to watch. The audience members are led onto stage and L is the last one. That places her right in front of our table. The people range in age from young children to, well, old as dirt. She’s definitely the hottest one in the bunch. I’d say that about her even if she weren’t my wife. The hula dancers position themselves in front of the audience participants and demonstrate the first motion with their hands. Laurelyn mimics it slowly. Gracefully. Perfectly. They incorporate the hips next and I’m mesmerized by the way her body moves. I think she’s better than her demonstrators. The foot motion is last but I’m already lost in her sensual motions when she peeks over her shoulder at me as she turns. Her body language is unmistakable. She’s gonna let me fuck her ever how I choose.
Beauty from Love Beauty from Love Page 9 My wife is hotter than hell. Every man—and woman—here knows it, including this guy with the wife and four-point-five kids sitting across from me. He’s rarely taken his eyes off Laurelyn since the moment they were seated at the table. Surely, his wife has noticed, or maybe she hasn’t since he completely turned the childrearing over to her so he could ogle my wife’s tits. This guy is blatantly staring and it is pissing me off, but I remind myself these aren’t swingers in a club. This guy’s here with his family but he should show respect toward his wife and mine. I take a cleansing breath and exhale slowly. I’m letting this go because that’s what mature men do. And it’s what L would want from me. When the show is over, Laurelyn returns to the table, changed back into her sundress. I rise and pull her chair out for her. “You didn’t get to keep the costume?” “Sorry, McLachlan. They made me turn it in.” She leans over and lowers her voice. “But I’m sure we can come up with something for later.” Oh yeah. I’m definitely buying this girl a hula costume for the bedroom. Everyone at the table resumes watching the show—except the ogler. Laurelyn has no idea she’s being violated and I’ve had enough. No husband should have to watch some dick salivate at the sight of his wife’s chest. “They’re a great pair, aren’t they?” He turns at the sound of my voice and goes pale when his wife asks, “What was that?” His eyes become large as he reaches for his drink. “I said they’re a great pair.” I point at the kids sitting to the left. “Your older boys get along well while the younger son entertains the baby.” “Don’t let those two fool you,” she says as she gestures toward the rambunctious boys. “They’re a handful. They don’t always get along so well.” The show ends and I waste no time in leading L toward the car ahead of the crowd. “Wait. I need to go to the restroom.” I look at the horde around us and know they’re all headed in the same direction. “We’ll be at the house in ten minutes.” She shakes her head. “My bladder will explode if we get stuck in traffic.” “I really want to beat this crowd out of here so I can get you home and fulfill my promise.” She crosses her legs and makes a face to convey agony. “But not at the cost of an exploding body part.” I swat her bottom and she yelps. “Go—but hurry—because I have plans for you, Mrs. McLachlan.” I’m waiting for L and see our dinner companions as they’re leaving. “Did you enjoy the show?” I call out as they walk by. I would never bring his indiscretion to his pregnant wife’s attention, but I can’t resist making the bastard squirm a little. He deserves that much. He busies himself with one of the children, pretending to not hear me, so his wife answers. “We did. And you?” “Loved it. It was Laurelyn’s first luau so she especially enjoyed it.” “Laurelyn. What a pretty name. I’ll have to remember that one when this baby comes—that is, if it’s a girl. We didn’t find out.” I hope it’s a boy. I don’t want this guy to have any lasting connection to my L. “I’ll tell my wife you said so. Enjoy the rest of your evening.” “You too.” Laurelyn walks up from the opposite direction of the restrooms and is wearing that mischievous grin I love so much. “What have you been up to?” She holds up a large shopping bag. “I wanted souvenirs.” We both know what’s in that bag so I can’t wait to get her back to the house to play dress-up. I grab her hand and lead her toward the area where our driver is to pick us up. “Where’s the fire?” “In my pants.” That earns me a giggle from my bride but I’m not amused. I’m horny. We’re out a little earlier than expected, so I’m grateful when I see our driver waiting at the curb in a black Town Car. “That’s us with the hazards on.” I’m used to Daniel’s reliability so it’s nice to have someone do a good job of filling his shoes. Our temporary driver keeps up this kind of service and he’ll earn a nice, fat bonus at the end of this assignment. “What’s with the hurry?” I wave the driver off and open the door for L. “I’ll tell you when we’re in the car.” She’s a woman so she doesn’t get it. I know what’s in that bag and what she’s going to look like in it. She’s going to dance for me—only me—in a hula costume. Probably with nothing underneath. The anticipation has my cock hard as rock. The car pulls away and I know I have at least ten minutes until we make it home, probably longer when you take traffic into account so I’m in pure misery. I bring her hand to my erection. “This is the hurry. I’m in agony because I want you under me so badly.” She leans up and removes her cardigan before spreading it over my lap. “If we don’t do something about this, you won’t last a minute once we’re home. I don’t think either of us wants that.” She moves her hand up and slides it down the front of my pants. She grasps my cock in her hand and her thumb strokes the tip, spreading the moisture already there. “I think a little pregame show is in order so we savor the real thing later. Don’t you agree?” “I couldn’t agree more.” I lean my head back against the seat while L pumps her hand up and down. “God, you’re the best wife ever.” She leans over to whisper in my ear. “I wish there were a divider. Remember all those naughty things we did in the back of that limo?” How could I forget? Those were some of the best moments of my life. I grab her head and bring her ear to my mouth. “Hell, yeah. I remember it all. Every touch. Every kiss.” “You want to know what I remember?” She pumps faster as she talks, bringing me closer to the climax I need so badly. “You exploding inside my body, claiming me. You rubbed your cum into my skin, marking me like an animal, as if I was your possession for no other man to look at. And I loved it.” That’s it. The first spasm begins, and then the others, followed by a full-on explosion. She doesn’t stop until her hand and my boxer briefs are a wet mess and then she kisses the side of my face. “That’s my boy.” She takes her hand out of my pants and opens her handbag to fetch a tissue. She wipes her hand and then passes a clean one my way. “Tissue?”
Beauty from Love Beauty from Love Page 10 “Thanks.” I take it from her and ease it down the front of my trousers. “Isn’t my girl the prepared one?” “Looks like I’d better be in case I need to do that again.” I can’t lie and say it won’t happen again, not with the way she makes me want her. After we’re back at the house, she has me wait in the bedroom while she gets into character. She’s playful and it’s only one of the many things I love about L. I’m lighting the last candle in the room when she calls out through the cracked bathroom door, “Close your eyes.” She likes to do this—have me shut my eyes while she gets in place. It’s all about staging for her. “Yes, ma’am.” I’m sitting on the edge of the bed and hear the sound of a ukulele begin. It takes several seconds before I recognize the familiar tune of “Somewhere Over the Rainbow” coming from her phone. “Okay. You can look.” I open my eyes and L is completely decked out in hula gear, feathers and all. Her top is a yellow bikini and it’s lovely against her freshly sun-kissed skin. Her skirt and headpiece are red, yellow, and black. Her long dark hair cascades over both shoulders and she’s the most beautiful hula girl I’ve ever seen. I imagined something similar but the reality is so much better. She’s mimicking the dance she was taught at the luau, and the raging sexual urgency I expected isn’t there. This type of dance leaves me feeling much different than when she pole dances for me. There’s something surreal, and so very sweet, about the slow sway of her arms and hips to this particular rendition of the song. She looks so pure and deserving of much more than what I promised her I would do when I got her home tonight. “This is the only Hawaiian song I had in my music library.” She doesn’t miss a beat in her rhythmic dance as she talks. “Baby, it’s perfect.” And it truly is. It does something to me I can’t explain. “Each move has so much depth, every dance its own story.” She makes coordinating flowing motions with her arms. “One of the girls backstage told me this is symbolic of a tree swaying in the breeze. It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” She has no idea. “It certainly is.” No woman has ever made it look so lovely. She dances another minute and then shrugs. “That’s it. I got nothing else. I wish I had more of a show for you.” I put my arms out for her. “Come here.” She walks to me and I wrap my arms around her waist to pull her close. I put the side of my face just below her chest and she cradles my head with her arms. I feel so much more for this woman than I ever thought possible. My love for her makes me ache deep in my chest. I never want to find out what it would feel like to lose her. “I love you so much, L. I don’t ever want to know the pain of not having you in my life.” She leans back and tilts my face upward. “I love you and I’m not going anywhere. I’m here as long as you want me to stay.” I feel like I’ll smother if I don’t have her. “Swear you’ll never leave me.” She smiles and it feels like a rush of breath expanding my lungs in a moment of suffocation. “I will never leave you.” “We’ve had a change of plans for christening our bed.” I reach for her phone and pass it to her. “Put that song on repeat and forget what I said earlier. I just want to make love to you—as slowly as you’ll let me.” She smiles as she thumbs the phone’s screen. “I’m glad you like the song. I wasn’t sure about it.” She puts her phone aside and slides her hands over my shoulders. “I love it.” It makes me feel good about us. “Dance with me.” We sway in the middle of our bedroom. I’m in a completely different mindset than earlier. I know L likes my filthy mouth occasionally, but I use it far too frequently. I’m too much of a caveman with her at times. I should touch her gently and speak sweetly to her more often. She’s a treasure—my precious one—and I’d be wise to always treat her as such. The song comes to an end before beginning again but I’m done with dancing. I take L’s hands in mine and lead her toward the bed. We stop when the backs of my legs hit the mattress and she unbuttons my white linen shirt before pushing it from my shoulders to the floor. I take the floral wreath from her head and place it on the nightstand before I smooth her stray hairs. I twirl a lock of her long hair around my finger and marvel at how soft it is. “You are so beautiful.” She blushes and drops her face. It’s still surprising to me how she can be so strong—even seek a career in the spotlight—yet she doesn’t know how to take compliments. I’m certain it’s because she never heard them while growing up. Or from that fool, Blake. I place my hand under her chin and lift her face. “You better get used to hearing compliments because I plan on telling you often how gorgeous and loved you are.” 5 My eyes are closed and I’m listening to the sound of the waves. I’ve only been awake for a few minutes but the resonance is hypnotic so I’m drifting back into slumber when the bed shifts. My eyes pop open when the bed sheet slides down my body and I feel Jack Henry’s kisses against the bare skin of my lower back. “Are you awake?” “I am now.” He runs his hand over the valley where my spine curves inward. “Have I ever told you how much I love this dip?” Is he kidding? Only like a bazillion times. “I believe you may have a time or two.” His wet tongue glides upward and I bow reflexively, sending my bottom up from the bed, hitting him against his chest. My hair prickles as goosebumps spread from the top of my head to the tips of my toes. No matter how many times he does this, my body reacts the same. “Good grief. You’d think I’d become immune to that at some point.” His palm slides up my thigh to my cheek and he rubs it in a circular motion. “Please don’t because I’ll never tire of seeing your body arch like that.” I relax beneath his touch and his talented hands knead the muscles of my back as they make their way to my shoulders. I haven’t said anything but my body is rebelling after our frolic against the pole yesterday. A massage is very welcomed. “Mmm … you can stop doing that sometime next week.” His fingers knead in circles and, again, my body erupts into chills. “So you like that, huh?”
Beauty from Love Beauty from Love Page 11 “Mmm-hmm … just a little bit.” “A massage is the least I can do since it’s my fault you’re sore.” I lift my head from the pillow and peer over my shoulder at him. “I didn’t say I was sore.” “You didn’t but your body speaks to me in other ways.” Funny, I didn’t hear it say a thing. “How so?” “It wasn’t your usual fuck-me-harder moan I heard when I pushed your legs back.” He leans down to kiss the side of my neck. “Your legs were guarded so I knew you were probably feeling the aftermath of our pole excursion.” He kisses the side of my face. “I’m sure it’s worse today so we’re taking a break from sex so you can recuperate.” I recall how gentle and loving Jack Henry was last night while we christened our honeymoon bed. His whole demeanor was different, but he was that way before, possibly discerning how sore I was. “Is that why you were so gentle with me?” “Partly.” “What’s the other reason?” “I wanted to make love to you.” He presses his nose against my hair and inhales deeply. “I’m boorish with you too often. I should be gentler.” I roll, forcing him to move from my back. “Listen up, McLachlan.” He moves to his side and we’re face to face. “I love your gentle side but I’m not a porcelain doll. I love it when you fuck me hard.” I grab his chin and give it a squeeze. “Sometimes I need you to be a caveman. I crave it. Understand?” He nods in agreement. “Yes, ma’am.” “This is our honeymoon so there will be no breaks from sex. Got it?” “No argument here.” “Good.” I push him to his back and straddle him. I place my palms against his chest and rub his pectorals. “Life is so much easier when you see things my way.” He licks his lips while reaching to palm my breasts. “You’re always very convincing, Mrs. McLachlan. I’m afraid I’ll never stand a chance with you.” I lean down so we’re face to face again. “I’m afraid you’re right.” I suck his bottom lip into my mouth but let it go when his phone rings. It’s Margaret. “Shit. I haven’t called Mum since we arrived. She’s going to rip me a new one.” “No, she isn’t. I’ve got this.” I take his phone from the nightstand. “Good mornin’, Margaret.” “Hello, darling. I’m sorry to call but my inconsiderate son hasn’t seen fit to phone his mum to let her know all is well.” “I’m so sorry, Margaret. I’m afraid that’s all my fault.” I wink at Jack Henry. “I’ve been keeping him pretty busy.” I’m still straddling him so I move my hips against him. “It’s okay. I totally understand but I needed to check in to make sure you were both all right.” He rises and puts his mouth on one of my breasts, sucking my nipple into his mouth. “We’re having a great time. I love the house.” “I knew you would.” He moves to my other breast, rolling his tongue around the tip of its rosy pebble. “I can’t believe he bought it for me.” “I can. He loves you so much, Laurelyn.” I look at the top of his dark head and run my fingers through his hair. “I know, and I love him.” “I know you do, honey. Any idea when you’ll be returning?” I remember him telling me we were here as long as we liked. I’ve been having so much fun, it hasn’t crossed my mind to ask when we’ll go home. I guess it’s something we should discuss soon since Christmas is just around the corner. “Just a minute, Margaret.” I press mute. “She wants to know when we’re coming home.” He takes a piece of my hair between his fingers and playfully twirls it. “Tell her we’ll discuss it and let her know.” I unmute the phone. “We haven’t decided yet but we’ll let you know after we talk it over.” “Okay … as long as you’re back in time for Christmas. I know Jack Henry and how he thinks. I won’t have my new daughter spend her first McLachlan holiday away from the family.” “I’ll tell him you said so.” Jack Henry’s interest is piqued. He mouths, “Tell me what?” I wave him off. “I’m sorry, Margaret. Jack Henry was distracting me. What was that?” “I said I’ll let you go so you can go back to keeping your husband busy.” I feel heat in my face. I’m certain I’m blushing at my mother-in-law’s reference. Nookie. She strongly encourages it. First, because she wanted me to snag Jack Henry as a husband and now because she probably wants me pregnant. She as good as said so at our wedding. “All right. We’ll talk soon.” “Have a wonderful time, darling. I love you and tell Jack Henry I love him.” I tear up after I hear my mother-in-law tell me she loves me. She accepted me so easily. Her arms have been opened in my direction from the moment we met—something my own father couldn’t even do for me. “I will. We love you too.” I lean over to place the phone on the nightstand and then return to sitting astride Jack Henry. “She says to tell you she loves you.” “I owe you, sweet cheeks.” He lifts my hand to his lips for a kiss. “I’m certain you just saved me from a Margaret-style arse kicking.” “We’re husband and wife. That means we protect one another.” “I don’t know what I did before you.” His words spark a reminder of what he did before me and a peculiar look comes over his face. We both know why, so I push it out of my mind and attempt a change of subject. “What day do you have in mind for going back?” “I was thinking we might stay a couple of weeks.” I don’t have to do the math in my head to realize that means staying here through the holidays. “And miss Christmas with your family?” Our family. “I think it would be nice to spend our first Christmas as husband and wife here. I’ll go out and get us a tree. We can decorate it together—anyway you want.” My heart plummets. “What is it?” I place my finger on his chest and before I know it, I’m tracing the infinity symbol. “This is my first chance at a normal Christmas with family. It’s something I’ve never had before. I guess I was excited about it, but we can stay here. Spending the holidays with just you and me will be special.”
Beauty from Love Beauty from Love Page 12 He grabs my hand and kisses it. “I’m such an idiot. I wasn’t thinking. Of course, you want to spend our first Christmas with family.” Being with Jack Henry is all I really need. “I want to make you happy. If being here together is what you have in mind, then that’s what we should do.” “No. I’m making sure you have the Christmas you deserve. We’ll leave Saturday so we can be back before Christmas Eve. What do you think of that?” “I think it’s perfect—just like you.” The last six days have been the best of my life. I’m sad to leave Maui but I know Jack Henry and I can return whenever we choose, so the sadness is lessened. It’s almost Christmas Eve by the time we land in Sydney, and I’m thankful Daniel is there waiting with the car. I’m so exhausted I practically fall inside. Jack Henry gathers me in his arms for the ride to our apartment and strokes his hand over my hair. “You see? This is what happens when you act like a sex-crazed maniac.” I gather all my strength to respond. “Sorry, McLachlan. It won’t happen again.” That’s the last thing I remember until we arrive at the apartment and Jack Henry attempts to gather me so he can carry me inside. “I’m awake. I can walk.” “I’m carrying you over the threshold.” “You did that already,” I argue. “I did it at our vacation house. Now I’m doing it at our apartment and you should expect me to do it again when we go home to Avalon.” I get out of the car and he scoops me up. “You’re being silly, but I’m too tired to argue with you, freak, so take me to bed.” “Gladly.” I shake my head. “Not for that, McLachlan. To rest. I’m exhausted.” “You’ve been sleeping a lot the past few days. Do you feel okay?” He’s right. I spent more time in bed than usual but it was our honeymoon. Aren’t we supposed to stay in bed far too much? “I’m fine … just exhausted by my husband’s robust sexual appetite this week.” “Are you complaining?” “Most certainly not.” “Welcome home, sort of, my beautiful bride.” He chuckles as he brings me through the front door and sets me on the floor. He looks at me and then places his palm against my forehead. “You look pale. Sure you feel okay?” “I’m really tired.” He takes my hand. “Let’s get you to bed so you can catch up on your sleep. You’ll need to be energized for tomorrow.” Shit! I have no idea how I’m going to get everything done. “But I don’t have time to sleep. There’s too much to do.” I take a look around the living room but don’t see any deliveries. I wonder where Daniel put them. “There should be a stash of Christmas packages here somewhere. They’ll need wrapping before tomorrow. That’ll take a lot of time because I make my own bows.” “No, ma’am. There’s plenty of time for that. The first thing you’re going to do is sleep and you can get to those other things later if you feel well enough.” I hate to admit it, but I’m too tired to argue with him. “Okay. Wake me in two hours.” It’s dark when I open my eyes so that means Jack Henry didn’t wake me as I’d asked. Shit! I’ve slept the whole day. My head is pounding and I have chills. My body feels as though it’s been run over by a semi … and then backed over again. I don’t feel well at all and I can admit it. I sit on the edge of the bed and flip on the lamp. The dim light is painful and I’d like to turn it off and lie back down but I have an urgent need to use the bathroom. I rise to stand at the side of the bed but my head spins so I lower myself to sit again. As if on cue, Jack Henry comes into the room. “You’re finally awake. You’ve been sleeping like the dead.” He walks over and again places his hand on my head. “You’re hot.” “Glad you think so.” “You’re considerably chipper for someone with a fever.” I reach up and hold my head. “I’m dizzy but I really need to go to the bathroom.” “I’ll help you.” He helps me to stand and my head feels like I’ve been whirling in circles, so I shut my eyes tight. “Oh God. I may throw up.” And if I do, my bladder is going to explode. “Bathroom. Now.” He takes my hands and guides me in the direction I need to go but I don’t open my eyes because I know I’ll spew if I do. I feel his hands guiding me back toward the toilet before he peels my panties down my legs. “Sit.” We’ve done this before and he knows I don’t want him around for bodily functions. “Hand me the trash can and then get out.” “I’m not leaving you alone on the verge of falling off the toilet into your own puke.” Seriously? He wants to argue about this now? I’m miserable because my bladder is about to burst. I squeeze my eyes, although I’m covering them with my hand. “I can’t pee with you in here. You’ve got to go.” “I’m not leaving if you’re unsteady.” “Grr,” I groan. “I’m not going to fall but I may very well explode if you don’t get out of here.” “You get one minute but you’d better call for me if you feel shaky. Got it?” “Yes! Get out.” I sound hateful—I don’t mean to—but the wretchedness engulfing me is to blame. The minute I hear the door shut, I’m finally able to relax enough to empty my bladder. And then it starts—the heaving, followed by the vomiting. My eyes are still shut but I hear Jack Henry open the bathroom door. “You okay?” I heave loudly and I’m guessing he interprets that as a negative because he’s by my side with a cool, wet cloth to the back of my neck. “What do you think is wrong?” “I don’t know. I guess some kind of virus since I have a fever.” Even after vomiting, I don’t dare open my eyes because I don’t want to get started again. “Damn. This happened fast. I don’t remember ever feeling so bad in all my life.” I’m sickened further when I realize I won’t be able to attend Christmas with my new family. “No way I can go to your parents’ tomorrow.” He rubs my back. “You don’t have to make that call right now, but I’ll bet you’ll probably feel much better by tomorrow.”
Beauty from Love Beauty from Love Page 13 He isn’t getting it. “I have a fever, so that means I’m probably contagious. Even if I feel better, I can’t expose the family to whatever this is—especially the kids.” “You’ve been really tired and now you’re throwing up and dizzy. Could you be … ?” He doesn’t finish but I know what he’s thinking. I hate bursting his bubble. “Pregnancy doesn’t make you feverish.” “Unless you’re pregnant and you have a virus.” Is he seriously wishing a pregnancy on top of this? I look up at him and my expression must convey my thoughts. “Don’t look at me like that. You were right there with me on that bathroom counter the night before the wedding. It could’ve happened. Plus, it’s not like we’ve been incredibly consistent in the birth control department lately.” I want to ask whose fault that is but I keep that comment to myself. “My period should start anytime.” He’s rubbing my neck. “Want to try to go back to bed?” I’m minimally better so it seems a good idea. “Yeah. I think I’m finished for now, but give me a minute. I’ll let you know when I’m ready for you.” He sighs, a sign he doesn’t appreciate my need for privacy, but I don’t care. I have business to tend and it doesn’t concern him. And I’m very glad I asked him to leave when I see the blood after I wipe. Talk about being on cue—my period has arrived so we won’t have to wait to know I’m not pregnant. Seeing the evidence of what I already knew leaves me unsettled. I didn’t believe I was pregnant but I think I might have hoped, maybe somewhere deep in the back of my mind, that we had conceived. Is this disappointment I’m feeling? I come out of the bathroom once I’m finished and he’s instantly by my side, helping me to the bed. “I started my period just now.” “Oh.” I hear his disappointment and I’m not sure how to respond. Saying I’m sorry doesn’t feel right and neither does telling him we’ll try. The truth is that I’m not sure what I want. I only know I love him and want nothing more than to please him, but do I agree to have a baby when I’m uncertain because I want to make him happy? How can that be best for our marriage? I told him I’d think about a baby—and I will—but not now. I don’t have it in me to do anything but climb into our bed and fall fast asleep. 6 It’s becoming clearer as the hours tick by that L and I will not be spending Christmas at my parents’ house as planned. I had hoped she would make a miraculous recovery so we’d be able to make it, but we’ve no such luck. If anything, she’s sicker. I hate waking her again but it can’t be good for her to go so long without drinking. “L.” I lightly shake her shoulder. “Love, you’re going to get dehydrated if you don’t drink something else.” She slowly wakes following a second shake. “I brought you some fresh water.” She closes her eyes. “I don’t want anymore. I’ll throw up if I put anything in my stomach.” I nudge her again. “Please try. Would you rather go to the hospital and get an IV?” She puts her hand over her eyes. “I’m too sick to get up and go to the hospital.” Even sick, she tries to be funny. “I can manage getting you there if it’s what you need.” She sighs, or maybe huffs is a better word. “Fine. I’ll drink the damn water but bring me something to puke in. There’s no way I can run to the bathroom when it decides to come back up.” I place a couple of pillows against the headboard and help her to a sitting position. She takes the glass from my hand but I don’t release it because I’m afraid she’s too weak to maintain her grip. “I’ve got it.” I’m not convinced but I let her take it anyway. “What time is it?” I look at the clock. “Almost two. How do you feel?” “I’m still weak but I think I feel better than I did this morning.” It’s small, but she takes a drink and it doesn’t immediately come back up. “We’re missing Christmas. Is Margaret terribly upset?” Very much so, but there’s no way I’m telling L that. “She’s disappointed but understands it isn’t your fault you’re sick.” She brings the glass to her mouth and takes another sip. “I think it’s a twenty-four hour bug or something since I’m feeling better.” She has no idea how relieved I am to hear that. “I’m glad because I really considered gathering you up and taking you to the hospital.” She isn’t too sick to give me her oh hell no look. “I think you know that wouldn’t have gone over well with me.” She better figure out nothing will stop me from taking care of her. “It doesn’t matter when it comes to your well-being.” “Good thing I’m better, then.” “Think you’re good enough to open your Christmas present?” She smiles and I’m reassured for the first time that she may actually be feeling better. “Absolutely.” I’m excited like a little kid. “Be right back.” “No. I want to come to the living room.” “Sure you feel well enough?” “I won’t be dancing a jig but I’m good enough to make it to the couch.” She slides to the edge of the bed. “Give me a quick minute to freshen up and I’ll meet you on the couch.” She’s changed and freshened, looking quite different from the person I was so worried about twelve hours ago. She’s sitting on the sofa waiting for her gifts, and I can’t stop myself from wondering what her previous Christmases were like. I remember last year. I found her alone when I drove from Sydney to Wagga Wagga and brought her home with me to Avalon—after Mum insisted. I was such a fool then. “Tell me what holidays were like for you growing up.” She looks puzzled. “Why?” I shrug. “You’re my wife. I want to know.” “Terrible until my mom got clean. I’d classify them as tolerable after that. My grandparents were the only joyful part of the holidays for me.” That’s not much detail about what it was like, but I’m guessing this is as far as she wants to go today. “I wanted this to be the most special Christmas you’ve ever had.” She smiles and reaches out to touch my arm. “It is. I’m your wife and we’re together. Nothing could spoil that, not even me being sick as a dog.”
Beauty from Love Beauty from Love Page 14 “You are so precious to me.” I lean over and kiss the top of her head. I walk over to the Christmas tree Mum had delivered and decorated so we’d have our own for our first Christmas together. I sit next to Laurelyn with her gifts. “I’ve been carrying your presents with me since the day we left on our honeymoon. I wanted to spend the holidays in Maui so I could have you all to myself on Christmas. Looks like I’m having my way, although this isn’t exactly what I had in mind.” “I feel like shit. I bought your gifts before the wedding but they’re under our tree at Avalon. I’m sorry. I thought we’d go home after we left your parents and have our own little Christmas there.” “I don’t care about me, babe. This Christmas is only about you.” I place her first gift on her lap and her face lights up like a child. “Open it.” She grins as she tears the paper of the small square box. She looks up at me when she sees the jewelry box. “You’ve given me a necklace, earrings, and a bracelet. What could this be?” “Only one way to find out.” She flips the jewelry box lid and her eyes dance as she touches her new platinum and diamond drop navel ring. “Oh my God. You bought diamonds for my belly button.” She takes it from the box and holds it up for a better look. “It’s beautiful.” “I couldn’t find one I liked so I had to have a jeweler make it.” I point to the biggest stone. “This one is a third of a carat. The two smaller ones are quarter-carats each. The jeweler recommended keeping the total weight under a carat so it didn’t become too much.” She lifts her shirt and holds it over her current ring. “What do you think?” I can’t wait to see it on her—but not now. “It’s perfect, but wait until you feel better to put it in.” She reaches for my face and strokes it with her palm. “Always so thoughtful.” “You haven’t seen anything yet, baby.” I give her the girly gifts my mum and sister helped me choose—nothing particularly special—and I’m down to the last one. “This is sort of a wedding-slash-Christmas present.” I place the rolled set of papers across her legs. “I wanted to give this to you before we left on our honeymoon but it wasn’t ready.” I see her intrigue by the way she scrunches her brow. “What is this?” “Unroll it and take a look.” She slides to the edge of the couch and spreads the rolled papers out on the coffee table. “It’s blueprints?” “Yes.” “For … a house?” “Not exactly.” I move a picture frame to one side of the papers and a candle to the other to act as paperweights so I can show her the surprise. “This is the newest edition at Avalon—a music studio for you. It was designed by the leading acoustical engineer in the business. The guy is supposed to be some kind of genius when it comes to the science of sound and vibration in technology.” I gesture toward the northeast corner of the drawing. “This room will have state-of-the-art recording equipment.” She’s silent and I don’t know what that means. “I know this won’t be you traveling around the world with Southern Ophelia, but it’s a way for you to hang on to your music. We live in a technical world and you can work with people in Nashville from here in Australia. I’m hoping you’ll find it a happy medium.” “Happy medium means I’m settling for less than I truly want but that’s not what this is—or what you are. You’re everything to me—my number one. I love music but it’ll always come after you and when we have a family, it’ll come behind them.” She waves her hand over the blueprints. “I love this. It’s absolutely incredible and proves yet again how thoughtful you are and how much you love me.” She puts her arms out for me to come to her—so I do. “I’d fuck you into this couch if I weren’t sick.” That’s my girl. “I accept rain checks.” “I’m sure you do.” “I have to call Addison to tell her about this.” The doorbell rings and a puzzled look appears on Laurelyn’s face. “Who in the world could that be?” “There’s only one person I can think of.” Margaret McLachlan. I move to answer the door. “I guess it’s a good thing I’m not getting fucked into the couch right now.” My guess is spot on. “Mum. This is a surprise.” Not really. I knew she wouldn’t stay away. She’s holding several plates of food and passes them to me. “I brought you something to eat.” I take the food from her and she steps around me to go to Laurelyn. “How’s our girl?” “I’m much better, thank you.” She sits next to L and immediately begins her mothering by feeling L’s forehead. I guess I learned that from her. “You’re a little warm but you don’t have fever. Any chills?” “I did earlier but I haven’t felt them in hours.” “Good. Whatever this is, it’s passing quickly. I made soup. Do you feel like eating?” Laurelyn nods and my mum motions for the cabana boy—me—to jump. “You’re going to eat soup for her but you’d barely drink water for me.” I sound like a pouty child. “I feel better since I’ve gotten out of bed.” She points to the blueprints on the coffee table. “And since I got this incredible Christmas gift.” My mum leans over to look at the plans. “What is this?” “I’m building a music studio at Avalon.” Mum nods in approval. “What a great idea. You must be happy about this.” Laurelyn leans up and adjusts the pillow behind her back. “Beyond thrilled is more like it.” “My boy does good.” “He certainly does.” I’m glad to have the approval of the two most important women in my life. I take Laurelyn’s empty soup bowl when she finishes and Mum follows me into the kitchen. “She’s pale.” She’s a hundred percent better than she was. “Pale is an improvement over the color she was early this morning. She scared me, Mum. She doesn’t realize how very close I was to taking her to the hospital.” “She kept saying her wedding dress was tight so I thought she might have already been pregnant but just didn’t realize it yet. I was hoping that was why she didn’t feel well, but I see that isn’t the case.” So I’m not the only one hoping for a baby soon.
Beauty from Love Beauty from Love Page 15 “I’d hoped the same thing but she isn’t. We know for sure.” I don’t want to tell my mum about my wife’s period, so I hope she understands what I mean. She’s grinning. “She may want to work on that as soon as she feels better.” I shrug. “I don’t know. We discussed it in Maui. She told me she’d think about it.” “Don’t look so discouraged. Thinking about it isn’t a no.” “It isn’t a yes, either,” I argue. “Son, she’s open to the idea if she’s thinking it over, but don’t rush her. Pressure is the last thing she needs. You’ve been married a week. There’s plenty of time for babies.” Laurelyn has plenty of time for babies. I’m not so sure about myself but I’m not going to upset my mum by going there with her. “I know.” “Enjoy being together while you can. Trust me, that special time is rare once little ones come along.” Isn’t that the same thing Evan told me about Emma? That, along with a lot of other shit I didn’t want to hear about him fucking her on their living room couch and kids nursing on her all the time. “I treasure every moment with Laurelyn.” “As you should.” She takes the spoon and bowl from me and goes to the sink to wash them. “You couldn’t have chosen a better gift than a music studio.” “Laurelyn quit the band but she didn’t give up music. She wants to continue to work—maybe writing songs for other artists. I think the studio will be the perfect avenue for her to work from home instead of making trips to Nashville.” “Isn’t Nashville where that man lives, the one who attacked her?” That whole situation weighs heavily on my mind. “Yes and she’ll have to go back to testify.” “How do you feel about that?” my mum asks. She doesn’t really want to hear me tell her how I feel about it, how I want to kill him. “I don’t want them in the same room ever again, but I want that son of bitch locked up with the key thrown away. It’ll take her testimony to do that.” “You’ve never told me about it.” And I don’t plan to. “I can’t. L doesn’t want anyone to know what he did to her.” She drops the soup bowl in the sink, shattering it, before she turns to me, looking sickened. “He didn’t, Mum. I stopped him in time. But another minute and I don’t think the outcome would’ve been the same.” She reaches for the dish towel and dries her hands before walking to me. “I had no idea.” “Don’t say anything to Laurelyn.” “I wouldn’t, son.” She holds my face with her hands. “You’ve done a lot of things to make me proud but never more so than when you took Laurelyn as your wife. As her husband, it’s your job to love her.” She’s unmoving as her eyes stare into mine. “She’s one of us now and we protect our own … at any cost.” I nod in agreement with my mum. “With every heartbeat I have left, I will keep her safe.” I hear the echo of Laurelyn’s phone and I recognize her mum’s ringtone. “Jolie’s calling, I’m sure to wish Laurelyn a merry Christmas.” “Good. Laurelyn needs her mother to be a presence in her life, even if from a distance.” 7 It’s taken several days for me to feel as though I’ve returned to the land of the living but I’m back. I hope I’m ready for the party scene because Daniel is driving us to Evan and Emma’s house for their New Year’s shindig. It’s not a family party, meaning I’ll be meeting Jack Henry’s friends, so my stomach is fluttering a mile a minute. “You’re quiet, love.” I consider saying nothing but can’t think of a good reason to keep it from him. “I’m your wife and I’ve yet to meet your friends, so I can’t help but feel nervous about meeting your inner circle.” Jack Henry had no intention of introducing me to the people in his life when we began our companionship. Meeting his parents and siblings wasn’t supposed to happen but even after we abandoned our original agreement, he didn’t take me around his friends. He still hasn’t, and I admit I’m troubled by this. Our wedding was small with only family in attendance. I’d like to think that was because he didn’t want me to feel bad about a huge crowd on his side when I had only four family members and a single friend, but the insecure person trapped inside me wonders if there’s more to it than that. “The people attending this party aren’t my mates. They’re Evan and Emma’s, so we’re acquaintances at best.” “Oh.” So I still won’t meet those he considers his buddies. “Why haven’t I met your friends?” He’s grinning as he leans over to kiss my cheek. “I have none worthy of your company.” He’s avoiding the question. “That’s not an answer.” “I’m not hiding you from them, if that’s what’s on your mind.” His arm is around me and I lean into him. He squeezes me closer and plants a kiss on the top of my head. “Or maybe I am. The whole bunch of them are self-proclaimed manwhores so I’d do well to keep you from them forever.” A manwhore, huh? Sort of sounds like someone I used to know. “I assure you you’re not missing anything, but I can have Mum invite a few to my birthday dinner next Saturday night if it’s what you want.” That’s right. My man has a birthday coming in thirteen days. Thirty-one. He sees age as a countdown but I don’t. That’s no way to think of life and I have to change his mindset. I also have to come up with a gift for him—a perfect one. We arrive at my brother and sister-in-law’s and the driveway is full of expensive cars. “Looks like they invited a lot of people.” And it looks like some rich ones, which surprises me. I guess I didn’t realize Evan and Emma rubbed elbows with a wealthy crowd. “Perfect.” The sarcasm is thick in his voice. “You should probably be prepared to be passed around. If you tire of it, let me know and we’ll leave. I’m not opposed to ringing in the new year at home, just the two of us.” I wouldn’t want to upset Evan and Emma by leaving before midnight. I look at the time. “We can survive anything together for four hours.” “We need a code word.”
Beauty from Love Beauty from Love Page 16 Is he kidding? “A code word? For what?” “For when you’ve had enough and you need to get out.” Now I’m really afraid. “I don’t know.” I think for a moment, offering the first word that comes to me. “Infinity.” He grins. “May I say how fitting that is since it’s what you trace with your finger when you’re mulling something over.” We enter the house and it’s more crowded than I expected. A lot of people must’ve come by taxi, or maybe they’re like Jack Henry and have drivers. I hadn’t considered that I might have to mingle with an elite crowd. Shit. I may have married a man from the upper class but I’ve never rubbed elbows with these kind of people, not even in my music career. I’m a simple Southern girl with a twang I can’t shake no matter how hard I try. Please don’t let me say or do anything to embarrass myself or my husband. Emma’s at my side almost instantly, placing a drink in my hand. “Evan’s specialty—a painkiller.” I put it to my nose and sniff. “Mmm … smells delicious.” Jack Henry takes it from me and turns it up for a taste. “Be forewarned, L. Evan will fool you with these. He’ll add more and more spiced rum in each one you drink. He wants you smashed—if for no other reason than to fuck with me.” Cock-block. I swear they’re worse than two little boys hitting each other in the nuts. I bet they did that to each other all the time when they were growing up. Poor Margaret. I bet she wore their asses out every day whether they needed it or not. Emma laughs. “Jack’s not kidding. You should watch out for Evan. He loves nothing more than to fuck with his brother and he’ll do it through you if he has to—just like Jack will use me.” She hits my husband in the arm. “It never stops. I thought they’d grow out of it eventually—especially after we had kids—but they haven’t. They’re worse than my own children so I gave up hope a long time ago.” I don’t intend on being curled over a toilet tonight or tomorrow morning. “Don’t worry.” Emma grabs my hand and tugs. “Come with me. I want to introduce you around.” We make the rounds and my sister-in-law introduces me to one person after another. Jack Henry was right. I’m passed from one person to the next like some kind of novelty. Everyone at the party wants to meet the woman capable of lassoing Jack McLachlan’s heart. Meeting this many people at once, while trying to keep their names straight, is exhausting. I need a break from the crowd … and the alcohol. Jack Henry and Emma were right. Evan mixes much stronger drinks for me as the night progresses. I catch Jack Henry’s attention and motion toward the outside door. I fan myself and then point at the door so he knows I mean to step out for air. He gives me a nod, a signal that he understands, and I blow him a kiss. I step out into the night air and sit in a patio chair with my feet resting on an ottoman. God, it’s hot. I’m not used to bringing in the new year in the summer. I think I almost expected to see my breath in the cold air. It’s a reality I haven’t considered—certainly not the end of the world—but I realize I’ll never have a white Christmas in Australia. All of the things I associate with the holidays aren’t the same here. I’m surprised by how bothered I am when I consider that my kids will never go out to play in the snow after they’ve opened their gifts from Santa. “I see I’m not the only one needing some fresh air.” I turn toward the female voice interrupting my thoughts and see a beautiful, petite blond with silky hair flowing down her back. “Yeah. It’s a lot to take in at one time.” She sits in the chair next to me. “I noticed Emma parading you around so I’m guessing you are her new sister-in-law, Laurelyn.” This woman knows my name but that’s not surprising since everyone at this party is aware that I’m Jack Henry’s wife. Still, it’s unnerving. “That would be me.” “Your accent is adorable.” “Thanks. It sort of sticks out like a sore thumb. I’ve tried to tame it but I’m afraid it’s no use.” “Don’t. You sound like a sweet little country girl,” she laughs. “You shouldn’t change it to suit your husband.” It’s true that I consider myself a country girl but I’m not sure I like this woman’s tone as she tells me I sound like one. I believe she’s trying to insult me—but in a catty way—as though I’m too stupid to see it. And I didn’t mention anything about changing my accent because Jack Henry didn’t like it. “My husband loves my accent and would never want me to speak differently.” “You’re the one who said you were trying to change it.” I know exactly what I said and it wasn’t that my husband didn’t like me the way I was. I don’t know this woman and I have no desire to argue with a complete stranger. I came outside to get a break from empty conversations and I don’t intend on having another with her, especially if she’s going to put words I didn’t say into my mouth. “If you’ll excuse me.” I get up to leave. “Jack Henry will be looking for me.” “Oh, look. You’re right. Here comes Jack now.” She emphasizes his name—as if she’s correcting me about what I should call my own husband—and I’m taken aback by her nasty tone and sudden change of demeanor. Who is she? Did I get her name? I don’t think so. She walks toward Jack Henry and goes up on her tiptoes. I know what’s she’s going to do because I can see it coming a mile away. She intends to kiss him on the mouth. “Hello, Jack.” The bitch is quick, but he’s faster as he turns his head and grabs her shoulders to push her away. “No, Lana.” He sounds as though he’s scolding a child. Or a dog—so the term bitch would be accurate. Disappointment is etched all over her face. His reaction clearly isn’t what she’d hoped for but then she breaks into a sneer directed at me. “I’m Lana and I can see from your expression that you’ve heard of me.” “Don’t,” Jack Henry warns her. “Don’t what, Jack? Tell her we were a thing and we used to fuck like champions?” She’s smirking, trying to get under my skin—and as badly as I hate to admit it, it’s working.
Beauty from Love Beauty from Love Page 17 Fuck like champions. Perfect. My husband used the same terminology with me that he once used with this woman—the one who attempted to trap him into marriage by getting pregnant. I’m caught off guard, my mind completely blank, so I don’t have a response for my husband’s former lover. I don’t want her to know what an impact she has had on Jack Henry’s life or how she has shaped who he became even years after they broke up. As much as I despise it, she has had a huge influence over my husband and the thought of her taking any kind of pleasure from knowing that sickens me. What does she want? She didn’t follow me outside for no reason. “Lana. I’m aware of your prior relationship with my husband and I’m also privy to knowing why he ended things with you. He, nor I, has any interest in reminiscing about the manner in which you once fucked. I’m his wife—by choice, not force. That means he fucks me—and only me—like a champion. And he enjoys the hell out of it when he does, which is often.” I’m shaking on the inside. My upper lip may even be quivering. “Does that cover it, or do you need further discouragement?” She looks at Jack Henry and reaches for his hand. “There’s no possible way you could be happy with her. If you’ll think about it, you’ll remember how good we were together.” Un-fucking-believable! Jack Henry moves from her reach and places his arm in front of me. It’s to hold me back because he knows I could go for blood any second. “Lana, I don’t remember us ever being good together. You’re just somebody I used to know.” He reaches for my hand. “I love my wife with all my heart and we couldn’t be happier.” “I know you, Jack. You don’t keep any woman around for long. You need variety—and I’m okay with that—but she won’t be.” She walks toward the house and calls out over her shoulder. “Emma will know how to reach me once the shine is knocked off your new bride.” That was absolutely humiliating—being told by a woman that she used to fuck my husband—and no less than like a champion. It’s almost as if she said that knowing it would hit home with me. I want to strangle them both. I stand motionless as reality sinks in. I married a man with many women in his past. This is the third time I’ve been humiliated by one of his previous lovers and I strongly suspect it won’t be the last. “How many times do I have to go through this?” He puts his hands on my shoulders, maybe because he’s afraid I’ll bolt. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know she was invited. We wouldn’t have come had I known.” I’m guessing she’s Emma’s friend if she’s at her party, so why wouldn’t he have considered her being invited? “You never told me Lana was Emma’s friend. Is that how you met her?” “Yes.” I feel like I’ve been hit in the gut. Jack Henry’s connection to Lana through Emma is a huge problem for me. “Come on. We’re going home,” he says. Oh hell no! Tucking my tail between my legs isn’t my forte. Leaving would make me appear upset, which I am, but also weak, which I’m not, so I have no intention of giving her that pleasure. “No. It’s too early to go home. We have a new year to ring in.” I walk toward the house. “I think I’ll have another painkiller since I’m due a stronger drink.” “L. Don’t get smashed because you’re angry at her.” “I’m not going to get drunk because I’m angry with her. I’m going to drink way more than I should because I’m pissed off at both of you.” “What did I do?” He tries to catch me but I make it into the house before he can grasp my arm. I find Evan still acting as the resident bartender. “Hey, sis. Can I do you for another?” “You certainly may, bro.” Jack Henry walks up and watches Evan mix my drink. “Get her hammered and I’m kicking your ass.” Evan gives him the bird and I sort of feel like doing the same thing. He grabs my hand and leads me into Evan and Emma’s bedroom. He shuts the door and presses me against it. “Why are you mad at me, L? I didn’t do anything wrong.” L. Hearing him say that puts a thought into my head. Laurelyn. Lana. “Oh my God. Did you call her L too?” “What?” He looks like I’ve injured him as he steps away from me. “No, of course I didn’t. That’s my special name for you.” He can wipe that hurt look off his face. “She used your words, McLachlan. Fuck like a champion. I can’t believe you said that to me on our honeymoon when it’s what you used to say to her.” He shrugs and puts his hands out. “It’s a phrase that my mates and I used to say all the time. It wasn’t something special I shared with her. In fact, I don’t recall ever telling her I was going to do that to her.” I don’t want to hear details about anything he might or might not have done with her. “Just stop.” He rakes his hands through his hair—a telltale sign of his frustration. “You are my wife. I love you. She and I were over a long time ago. You heard me tell her that, so why are you angry with me?” I’ve probably turned an ugly shade of green because I’m so envious of the role she has played in his life. “I’m your wife yet this other woman has molded you into the man you are.” He cradles my face with his hands. “Dammit, Laurelyn. You make me the man I am today—the one who loves his wife and wants to be a father. When are you gonna see that you’ve undone all the damage she caused? You make me … unbroken.” She will always be a part of him. “She made you the way you are. I can’t stand that you became a man that went from one meaningless relationship to the next because of her. It sickens me.” He backs away from me. “Because of you, I didn’t feel broken anymore … but I can clearly see that you don’t feel the same.” I didn’t know that’s how he felt, like he’s fixed because of me. I’m so stupid. I just told him I’m sickened by the man he is. “I’m a foolish woman. I shouldn’t have said those things. I didn’t mean them.” He places his hand on my arm to move me away from the door but I plant my feet firmly. “No.” He doesn’t move an inch but looks me in my eyes. “Infinity.” The moment he says the word, I know I’ve messed up. Bad. He’s used our code word as a safe word. It means he’s had enough of me and needs to get away.
Beauty from Love Beauty from Love Page 18 I step aside so he can leave and I remain in Evan and Emma’s bedroom. Alone. 8 I open the door and Lana’s standing there eavesdropping because that’s what a nosy bitch does. I try to move around her but she steps with me, blocking my escape. I place my hands on her arms. She thinks I mean to kiss her because she closes her eyes and leans in but instead I force her aside. She grasps my biceps tightly, pressing her long claws into my skin. “I heard what she said. Your wife doesn’t want you the way you are—but I do.” The more Lana says, the more I realize how much I hate her. I can’t believe I ever had a relationship with this bitch. “I’m not discussing my marriage with you.” She shrugs. “Doesn’t sound like there’s a marriage to discuss. Your wife is repulsed by the person you are—the man I made you, per her words.” She advances toward me. “If she loved you, she’d be fine with who you are.” I continue to hold her at arm’s length. “Stop. I don’t want to hear this.” “I’d be okay with you having other women. You could bring them into our bed anytime you wanted.” She grins and gestures toward the door of Evan and Emma’s bedroom. “I’ve come to like it. Maybe you and me and Laurelyn could give it a try.” What the hell is wrong with her? “I punched the last person who suggested something similar.” “My tastes have matured since we were together. I like it rough.” She unexpectedly shoves me. I’m caught off guard and my back slams against the wall, making a loud thud. “So would you if you’d let me show you.” She’s not just a bitch—she’s crazy. “You’re nuts and I’m done here.” I push against her to escape but she locks her arms, pulling me with her against the wall. I stumble, landing chest to chest with her, causing another loud thump. “See? I knew you’d like it rough.” She holds on to me tightly and her intent is no mystery. She wants L to open the door and see me with her like this. And she gets what she’s after. Laurelyn stands in the doorway staring at me tangled in Lana’s arms. I’m fucked—and not the way I want to be. “L. It’s not what it looks like.” That’s all I’m able to say before she storms past down the hallway. “How fuckin’ cliché! At least have enough respect for me to be original.” “Whoops,” Lana laughs. I’ve never been violent toward a woman in my life but I have to fight the urge to put my fist in this one’s face. At the very moment I feel like I could explode, I punch my clenched hand through the wall next to her head. She appears somber and fear creeps into her eyes. She’s frightened by my display and potential of what I might do to her. Good. I hope I’ve managed to put a stop to her game. “I never want to see your face again.” I push away from her to go find my wife and I see Evan still bartending as I pass through the kitchen. “Did Laurelyn come through here?” “Umm … yeah. I think she went out the door to the garage.” I’m guessing she has Daniel on his way and plans to sneak out. She won’t if I have anything to do with it. It’ll take him at least twenty minutes to get here so I walk over to the kitchen sink to wash my bloody hand. Evan calls out, “Whoa, bro! Who’d you punch?” It stings as the cold water hits the open skin. “Not who. Tell Emma she can pick a new color for the hallway if she wants since you’ll be needing some sheetrock work.” “I’m assuming that was no accident.” “Definitely not. Laurelyn thinks she saw me fucking around with Lana.” Even I admit it must have appeared that way. “You know I wasn’t. She set it up to look that way.” “I knew she was up to something when she called Emma out of the blue. She was fishing for an invite to the party so she could get to you and Laurelyn.” Emma walks up. “Who wanted to get to you and Laurelyn?” She looks down at my hand. “Oh hell. What happened?” “A shitstorm named Lana.” I don’t want to explain this again. “Catch Emma up. I gotta find L and explain.” I go into the garage and find no trace of Laurelyn so I call her phone. I hear the faint Hawaiian rendition of “Somewhere Over the Rainbow” and follow its melody toward the courtyard. She’s sitting at the bistro table digging through her purse to find the noisemaker. I’m sure she wants to silence it so I don’t discover her hiding place. Too late. She’s crying and it breaks my heart to guess what’s she’s imagining. “You’ll go away if you know what’s good for you.” “I’ve already told you I know what’s good for me, and it’s you. Always you. That’s never going to change.” I want to go to her but I’m afraid she’ll push me away. “Really? Because you sort of looked like you thought Lana might be good for you a few minutes ago.” “Does it make sense that I would walk away from you and fuck around with Lana two seconds later when you could come out of the bedroom at any second and see me? Come on, L. You know that was a total setup. Just like her cornering you outside.” She doesn’t reply but she doesn’t dispute my allegation, either. “Babe, it’s impossible for you to wrap your head around the malicious things Lana is capable of because your heart is so good and pure. Trust me when I say she’s venomous. And determined. She’ll do anything to get what she wants.” “She wants you.” “And you too.” She looks confused, as she should be. “What?” “I’m not the only one she’d like to have. She proposed a threesome.” She looks as though she’s waiting to hear me say if I accepted or declined the offer. Shit, I can’t believe she’s at a point where I have to confirm that. “I said no.” Lana has successfully fucked me after all. “I think there’s been a lot of misunderstandings tonight and I want to clear them up.” I drop to my knees in front of L and take her hands. “I don’t want Lana, even though she tried to make it appear as though I did. I love you. You’re the only one for me.” “That may very well be the case but I’m not ready to say all is well and get over what just happened.” She looks down as tears fall from her eyes. “I’m just so … damn mad.” Her words convey anger but her tears, along with the sob that follows, tells me she’s something else—in pain.
Beauty from Love Beauty from Love Page 19 How did it come to this? I didn’t do anything wrong yet I feel like a bastard. My wife is upset and crying and I don’t know how to fix it. The car’s headlights shine on us when Daniel pulls into the drive and I ask if she’s going to let me come home with her. She has a habit of making me leave when she’s angry. She doesn’t answer immediately and my heart pounds. She sighs. I know she probably wants space but I don’t want to be away from her tonight. I think being apart could cause more harm than good. “Please don’t make me stay somewhere else tonight.” She reaches for her purse and gets up, leaving me on my knees. “Come on. Daniel’s waiting.” She doesn’t utter a single word on the drive home—and neither do I. I can only guess what she’s rolling around in her head right now, but I’m predicting it isn’t good. We arrive at the apartment—our temporary home while visiting Sydney—and I can’t believe this is how we’ve spent our first New Year’s Eve as husband and wife. We walk toward our bedroom, me following her, and I totally expect her to slam the door in my face or tell me to find another place to sleep. She doesn’t. She’s a little unsteady from Evan’s painkillers so she leans over to hold the footboard as she kicks off her pumps. “I hope you know you’re not putting your hands on me tonight.” I look at the time and see it isn’t yet midnight, but it’s close. This isn’t how I want our first year to end so I decide to take a leap—one I hope doesn’t land me on my face. “It’s almost midnight. I don’t want to go into next year like this.” Tonight’s events aren’t small, so I’m sure Laurelyn has things she needs to say. She’s hurt and her wound can fester, causing damage to our marriage. As her husband, it’s my responsibility to contain this infection known as Lana. “We have five minutes before we begin two thousand fourteen. I want you to take these last moments to say anything you’d like. Rant and rave. Kick and scream. Tell me you hate the way I’ve lived and what I’ve done in the past. Tell me if I’m fucking up this marriage. Say or do whatever you feel you need to so we can move beyond this night. Let me have it good, babe.” I’ve stunned her speechless. This is probably the stupidest idea I’ve ever had. She’s incredibly hurt and angry so if she takes me up on this offer, I should expect her to say harsh things. But I want to give her this outlet. She needs it. “There’s nothing you can say to make me unlove you, so go for it without looking back.” “I’m not doing it unless you do the same. Tell me the things you’d like to say yet choose to hold inside.” Is it possible to make these confessions, not discuss them, and move on as if nothing happened? It suddenly feels like a challenge—a game of truth or dare—and is no longer about Lana. This is something more and goes deeper than tonight’s events. Women are so different from men. We are pissed off for a little while but get over it quickly. Women have long memories and hold grudges so this might not go well for me. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.” “I can always handle anything you say, as long as it’s the truth.” I get this now. She wants my true confessions. “I’ll agree but only if you swear you’ll have no regrets. You can’t dwell on anything I say.” She’s terrified but excited. At least that’s what I think I see in her eyes. “Do your worst. Tell me your fears and the demons you hide.” I set the timer on my phone. “A three-minute confession. We squeeze in whatever we can in a hundred and eighty seconds. Say it, get it off your chest, and move on without discussion or explanations. When the timer ends, it’s a new year, a new start. Do you agree?” “Yes.” I press start on my phone. “Go.” She looks at me, bewildered. “I don’t know if I can. I’m afraid.” She’s overthinking this so I’ll go first—starting with her sorry-ass mother and father. “If your parents ever treat you poorly again, I’m telling them to fuck off, especially your mum. She really pisses me off.” Laurelyn’s eyes grow large and she doesn’t reply. I don’t think that’s where she expected me to start. “If you don’t say anything, that means you forfeit your turn and I get to go again.” “I despise what you did with those first twelve women because of Lana. I understand it’s irrational for me to be angry about things that happened before you knew me, but it doesn’t stop me from being pissed off every time I think about it—which is often.” This isn’t surprising to hear. I often think about her being with Blake, as well, although their relationship came before us. Speaking of Blake … this grievance is all on me but she should know the way I feel. “I’m furious with myself because I was tending to business instead of being with you the night Blake attacked you. I have to work very hard to not see the image of him on top of you with your dress shoved up to your waist.” I look down because I can’t look at her when I say the next part. It’s bad. “And sometimes I wish I hadn’t heard your voice telling me to stop because I wanted to kill him. I still do.” I’ve probably scared the shit out of her, but damn, that feels good to get off my chest. She doesn’t give me time to dwell on what she thinks of hearing me say I want to kill Blake. “I worry you’ll miss the thrill of being with other women.” I’d like to address that one—to tell her it isn’t possible to ever be thrilled by the thought of being with a stranger after having something so real and true with her. But what we’re doing now isn’t about explanation; it’s about confession. “I worry that one day you’ll figure out I’m not worthy of your love.” “I’m terrified you’ll decide I’m too complicated and not worth the trouble I cause you.” Never. She’s a complication I can’t live without. “I’m afraid you’ll never get over my past and what I did with those other women.” I’m worried more than ever now because she has admitted she thinks of them often. “I’m still pissed off that you almost added a fourteenth to your list of companions.” Can’t blame her for being pissed off about that one—what a total fuck-up on my part.