Take Me To Bed: Bedtime Quickies Page 5

  “I’ve wanted to.” Her eyes close. “I’ve wanted to give up a million times.”

  “But you never did.” I dip my head down and touch my lips to hers. “You are one of the strongest people I’ve ever met, and I love knowing our kids will be able to witness your strength and determination. You’re going to be an amazing mom.”

  She pulls in a shaky breath then moves her hands up to rest them against my chest. “Are you sure about adopting?”

  “Can you love a child that you didn’t give birth to?” I counter.

  “Yes.” Her answer is immediate and firm.

  “Then yeah, baby. I’m sure about the adoption.”

  “Then so am I.” She leans up, and I drop my head to kiss her, thanking God we jumped that hurdle.

  5

  July

  I feel Wes wrap his hand around mine and squeeze his fingers as the phone between us rings. Nervous butterflies fill my stomach, unsure what’s about to happen but hoping it’s something good. Late last night, we got an e-mail from our contact at the adoption agency asking us to call them in the morning, and as soon as I saw the message, I grabbed Wes so we could make the call.

  “Hello, this is Dana.” Our agent comes on the line, and I look at my husband.

  “Hi, Dana. It’s July and Wes. We got your e-mail,” I say quietly.

  “Oh good. I wanted to call you last night but knew it was late.”

  “You can call us at any time,” Wes tells her, and I rest my temple on his shoulder.

  “Thanks for that, and the reason I wanted to talk to you today is we’ve had an emergency come up. A family that was chosen to adopt called me yesterday to let me know they don’t think they’re ready to move forward in the process, which happens sometimes. It’s not a bad thing that they are strong enough to admit this, but the birth parents who chose them are just about ready to give birth. And after some searching, they came across your profile on the website and would like to talk to you two, if you are open to that.”

  “When you say they’re just about ready to give birth, what do you mean?” Wes asks the same question I was thinking. We haven’t been with our agency for very long, and we were told when we started this process that everything could take a year or even longer.

  “She’s due to give birth at the beginning of next month, but she has three children already and had her last two babies early.”

  The beginning of next month. I shake my head, knowing that’s in just three weeks.

  “She has three babies?” I ask just for confirmation.

  “Yes, she and her husband have three children together already,” she replies, sounding somber.

  “Are they sure about adoption?” Wes asks, letting my hand go so he can wrap his arm around my shoulders.

  “Like any adoption, things are not final until they are final. She or her husband might change their mind at any point, but I can tell you I’ve spoken to them almost every day for the last few months and neither of them have once wavered in their decision.” I hear her pull in a breath. “I understand this is a lot to process, and I don’t want to add more stress to an already stressful situation, but the truth is she could give birth any day now, so I need to know how you both feel about moving forward.”

  “Can we put you on hold on for a second so we can talk?” Wes asks.

  “Absolutely, take as long as you need.”

  “Thanks.” He mutes the call then drops his arm away from my shoulders and turns to look at me. “What do you think?”

  “I think I’m nervous, especially since she has kids with her husband already, but if they’re looking into adoption, then they’re doing it for a reason.”

  “I think you’re right, baby.”

  “What do you think?” I ask as he takes my hands in his.

  “I think that if this is meant to be, then it will. And I think if she chose us out of all the other profiles that are on the site, we should really think about that.”

  “I think you’re right,” I whisper again in agreement as nervous excitement fills the pit of my belly.

  “Let’s agree to speak with her and her husband then decide where we go from there.”

  “Okay,” I concur once more, and he leans in, touching his lips to mine, and when he pulls away, our eyes lock. “Ready?”

  “As ready as I’m going to be.” He picks up the phone and unmutes the call. “Dana, we’d like to move forward with a phone call with them,” he says.

  “You’ve just made my day,” she replies, sounding relieved.

  We talk to her for another five minutes to get some details about their family and health history. Dana lets us know she will be calling the birth parents then she will call us back to set up our first phone conversation.

  6

  Wes

  I walk into the hospital room and stop in my tracks, unsure if I should give the two women sitting on the hospital bed with James between them a little time or attempt to comfort the two of them.

  One week ago, we had our phone call with the birth parents of our son, and two days ago, July and I flew down to Florida on a last-minute flight when James’s birth father called to let us know his wife was going into labor.

  I wasn’t sure what to expect when we got to the hospital but was happy to find we were welcomed by the nursing staff and shown to a private room before having our son brought in to us. I can admit I was nervous about how I would feel when I met my son for the first time, but when I held him in my arms and looked at him, my entire existence came into focus, and I knew he was meant to be mine, just like I knew July was.

  “Hey, man.” A hand patting my shoulder pulls me from my thoughts, and I look at James’s birth father, a man I’ve gotten to know over the last couple days, a man I have nothing but respect for. He and his wife have had to make an impossible decision, but I have no doubt they are doing it because they love their son and their other children and want nothing but good for each of them. Both Jack and Christen James birthparents work full time and admitted to us that they can’t afford another child. They we’re taking preventive measures to avoid getting pregnant again, but fate had other plans. After a lot of talking and praying they decided that they would look into adoption and the rest is history. “You holding up okay?”

  Fuck, how is he asking me that, when just a few hours ago, we met with a lawyer in this room to have them sign over their rights to us?

  “I think I should be asking you that question,” I say quietly, not wanting to interrupt the two women who are still talking.

  “I’ve had nine months to make my peace with this situation, and after meeting you and July, I have no doubt that God has played a role in everything that’s happened.”

  “I don’t even know how to begin to thank you for the gift you’re giving us.” I say with my gut tightening.

  “The only thing I want is for that boy—” He lifts his chin toward James. “—to have a good life, to always feel loved, and to know he was always wanted.”

  “That, I can give you,” I say gruffly, turning toward him, and as we embrace, I feel his pain seep into me. When he lets me go, I wipe away the tear tracks from my cheeks, then look at my wife, and pull in a breath. I know like me she’s hurting for the family in the room but is so fucking happy we got our boy.

  I love you, I watch July mouth as she picks up James to hold him against her chest, and it’s then I know without a doubt. Seeing her with our son, I know everything that’s happened—the pain and disappointment, the feelings of loss—led us to this moment in time. Right where we are meant to be.

  7

  July

  I sit in the crook of my husband’s arm and smile as I watch our two boys on their scooters race each other across the concrete slab just outside our back door.

  “Did you ever think you’d be this happy?” Wes asks as the little girl growing inside me kicks my ribs

  I tip my head to the side to look at him and my throat gets tight. “When I met you, I knew you woul
d change my life. I didn’t know how, but I knew you would. Then I fell in love with you and found peace. And then James came along and I found contentment. And when I got pregnant with Dean, I thought I had it all. Now, with our baby girl on the way, I feel nothing but pure happiness. So no, I never thought I’d be this happy. I didn’t even know this kind of happiness existed,” I admit, and his expression softens. “Did you ever think you’d be this happy?”

  “I knew when I met you I had it all. Then we got our boys, and I knew I wouldn’t wish for more. Now, our girl is on the way.” He rests his big palm over my round stomach. “An now I know that no matter what, you can never have too much happiness, too much joy, too much goodness in your life.” He rests his forehead against mine and my belly melts at the tender look in his eyes.

  “Mommy!” James yells.

  “Daddy!” Dean shouts.

  We both turn to look at our boys as our girl kicks me again and I know he’s right. You can never have too much happiness or joy in your life. Having dealt with pain and heartache, I know you have to endure the bad so you’re able to really appreciate the sun when it shines and the good times when they show up in your life. But then again, that’s life. Good and bad each day, no matter what happens, it pushes you forward, leading you down the path you are meant to walk.

  This is a follow up from the New York Times bestseller Until July.

  About Aurora

  Aurora Rose Reynolds is a New York Times and USA Today bestselling author whose wildly popular series include Until, Until Him, Until Her, and Underground Kings.

  Her writing career started in an attempt to get the outrageously alpha men who resided in her head to leave her alone and has blossomed into an opportunity to share her stories with readers all over the world.

  Visit her at www.AuroraRoseReynolds.com

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  After the Lies

  A The Lies Between Us Short Story

  Yolanda Olson

  A short story about the bond between a brother and sister.

  1

  A year has passed since we settled back into our little home in Harper’s Ferry.

  A year without lies, without deception—without Hoyt Blackburn.

  I thought it would have gotten easier by now, but seeing the beautiful, ceramic urn that Jori got to put his ashes in almost every day … it opens the wound each and every time.

  Hm.

  I run my fingertips down the cool ceramic, smiling slightly when I feel the arms of Jori Davidson slide gently around my waist.

  “Is today gonna be a good day, Red?” he murmurs into my ear.

  I chuckle.

  When we got back, I decided it would be best to cleanse myself of the Blackburn persona by getting some color corrector and taking out the black I had used to dye my hair with. It shocked the shit out of Jori when he saw it, but he understood. I needed to find a way to show Hoyt that I still gave a shit about him, and it was the only thing I could think of to do.

  We don’t talk about Doreen, the devil spawn I get my red hair from, anymore. That bitch never cared about Jori or me, and I could never see her as a mother. To me, she was just someone that Hoyt fucked a few times, and tried her best to spend all of his hard-earned money.

  She didn’t even want Jori.

  I’ll never forgive her for that because at least Hoyt tried.

  He gave his son to his sister who turned out to be a bigger bitch than Doreen, but I don’t think Hoyt knew. I just don’t feel like he would have done that to us if he knew what kind of monster Millie was to his son.

  Hell, to me Doreen was an incubator, Millie was the ogre that guarded the toll bridge, Jake was the boogeyman that mistreated us both, and Hoyt … well. There are no words to describe how I feel about Hoyt Blackburn, because I know that I still have love for him in my heart.

  And Jori does too.

  Even if he still won’t admit it, I know what I saw when he shook his hand the night before he was executed.

  I turn to face the only man left alive from our fucked up lineage and wrap my arms around his shoulders. I look into his bitter blue eyes and tilt my head to the side wondering how it is that I got so damn lucky.

  “Every day is a good day when you’re around, Jori,” I reply with a smile.

  It’s a lie.

  Something I promised myself I would never tell him again, but I don’t know if I’ll ever be the same after everything we’ve gone through. I just don’t think I can go through the rest of my life without anyone else.

  He quirks an eyebrow.

  I know he can see it in my eyes, but that’s just how things have to be for now and even though he doesn’t like it, he’s learning to accept it.

  “Stop,” I plead with him when the smile he was giving me tightens. I know he’s trying his best not to get angry right now, because Jori never could stand raising his voice to me. “Everything is fine, Jori. I’m fine. I promise.”

  He nods and turns his impossibly bitter blue eyes away from me for a moment, letting them rest on what’s left of Hoyt.

  “You ever wonder where he went?” he asks thoughtfully.

  “As long as Doreen or the rest of the Fuck Up Brigade aren’t there, I’m sure he’s happy,” I answer with a chuckle.

  Jori lets out a laugh as he rolls his eyes and shakes his head.

  I cross my arms loosely over my chest as I smile up at him and he takes my face in his hands, planting the gentlest kiss in the middle of my forehead.

  He’s taken to making a habit out of that once I told him that I read an article online that said kisses on the forehead affect the soul. I don’t know if he believed me or wanted me to feel even more loved than he already makes me feel, but at least once a day, he kisses my soul as gently as he can.

  That’s the thing about Jori Davidson.

  He always wants to make sure that I’m alright, even when he isn’t.

  2

  I yawn as he stretches his leg out across my lap.

  We’ve moved from the center of the living room to the corner. He made sure that I sat with my back to the damn cabinet that houses Hoyt’s remains because he wants me in a good mood.

  I can tell he has something up his sleeve.

  The way he keeps stealing glances at me, the way he blushes when I return his glance pointedly—something about the way he’s keeping his hands firmly clasped behind his neck while we watch The Texas Chainsaw Massacre for the millionth time.

  Yeah; Jori definitely has something he’s hiding from me, but I won’t pry it out of him. He’s never one to keep secrets from me, if he can help it anyway, and I know he’ll crack sooner rather than later.

  No reason to poke the dragon’s nest, I reason to myself as I run a hand down his leg letting it rest on his ankle.

  Jori’s always been something of a hard ass and he’s made damn sure that the interior matches the exterior. He’s got a number of colorful and large tattoos all over his body, but my favorite is the subtle Red tattoo he has just below his elbow. I’m pretty sure I cried the day he showed me and it made him so uncomfortable.

  Not because of how I reacted, because those were tears of joy, but because he made me cry. And Jori always promised me two things; that as long as we were together, he’d never make me cry or raise his voice to me.

  He does his best to keep his promises, like I do mine, and we’re doing okay.

  Even after the bombshell that he let slip.

  Something like that should have caused a sonic blast big enough to tear us apart, but it brought us closer together.

  Ever since then, he’s gone back to being the same sarcastic son of a bitch I fell in love with a long time ago. The same one that took me on a trip to Canada, bought me a stuffy that I promised him I’d treasure, gave me my first kiss, and saved me from all of the bad people in my life.

  Except for Hoyt.

  He tried, but Hoyt wouldn’t let him.

  I know that still bothers him because he wakes up som
etimes sweating and shaking. It’s when he asks me if I’m sure I still love him, and I tell him that I do because it’s the truth.

  Hoyt’s death affected me more than it did him because for the short while that I was allowed time with my father, I lived with him and the hell beast. Hoyt didn’t know about how Doreen treated me at first, but Jori did. He was the one that would come to my window every night he could and sneak me out. We’d sleep in the tree house behind Millie’s house until morning when he’d sneak me back home and go back to deal with a hell beast of his own.

  And he never complained.

  Not to me, anyway.

  Not as much as he should have at least.

  When he lets out his signature laugh, I startle and grin at him.

  Nothing in this world makes me happier than seeing him the way he is now.

  Safe.

  Wanted.

  And finally loved.

  3

  Finally, I think tiredly as the movie ends.

  Jori swings his legs off my lap and goes over to the entertainment center to shut the PlayStation off, then comes back to the couch with a grin on his handsome face.

  “What are you up to?” I ask through narrowing eyes.

  He rolls his in response, but not in a dismissive way, sucks his teeth and shrugs. I wait while he leans back against the couch, crosses an arm behind his head and turns his face toward mine.

  Ah.

  I can see it in the way he’s looking at me.

  I know what Jori wants.

  He wants what any man wants from the woman that they love, but I’m not exactly in the mood for that right now, and he sees it in my eyes.