A Mess of Reason (31 page)

“Scout, I…” Her arms fly around my body and
all I feel are tiny little quakes coming from her. Each one is an
I’m sorry, I love you, I understand now
.

“This was what you were talking about? My
Gypsy Girl? You had a bike doctor remake her, re-skin her? You made
her so…oh my God, Scout, so beautiful for me. This was it all
along? This is what you were talking to Striker about?”

“Yep. I wanted to surprise you with her,
because I knew you wouldn’t do it yourself.”

“I didn’t know. I thought you meant…me. My
skin. I thought…”

“You thought what, Tess? That I didn’t love
you from the inside out, didn’t appreciate every inch of who you
are? Didn’t love us and all the things we are and always have been,
the things we’re going to do and be together? You chose to hear
what you wanted to hear…something other than love. I wish you had
listened to your beautiful heart, your insides. I wish I had known
that was what you were angry about from the get-go. I could have
stopped you… I’m sorry I didn’t get to you in time. I’ll regret
that my whole life, baby. I tried to get to you….”

“Scout, oh my God.”

“I’m so sorry, baby. You’ve always been
perfect for me…never needed to change a thing.” My hands hold her
trembling face; my lips catch each tear that falls in unison with
my own.

“I love you, Scout. I’m so sorry I didn’t
trust you. I don’t know what happened. I just…. oh God, Scout, I
could have…none of this would ever….”

“Have happened. I know. None of it.” I sweep
her into my arms and carry her up the steps to the loft where we
had that beautiful kiss at sixteen years old. I suppose it’s good
nothing went past that point when we were so young. Fate’s funny
like that, sticking her hand into places that at the time you want
to curse her for—then, years later, you just want to nod and wink
at her as you move into that sweet spot you’ve been hoping for all
those years.

“You remember this loft?” I back her against
the same wall that still has the heart carved into it with our
initials and simple vow: TH + SS.

“Forever I’ll know this loft. It’s etched in
my heart like that one we carved right there.” She has a small
smile on her face as her eyes flicker at me. I’m pretty sure she
might be able to hear my heart pounding, too, because to me it’s
deafening.

“I want to give you something, Scout.
I…”

“Tess, hang on. I want to give you something
too, sweetheart,” I tell her as I go down on one knee and take her
hand in mine. The words are clear to me, I’ve been repeating them
for days on end…well, for years on end, truth be told.

“You’ve been taking my breath away since I
first met you. I’ve almost lost my chance at this a few times now.
I never did give up on you; I just kept asking my heart to seek out
new pathways to yours. Every time you smile, I feel a little of
your stardust inside of me. I want to spend the rest of my life
doing what you want to do…lying in the grass, holding hands, making
wishes as the stars fall over us…or lying in bed making babies
together. You’re my favorite everything—or, to quote you, my
forever and a day. Your magic is strong and soft and untethered
like an eternal flame, just like our love, baby. Tess Harlow, will
you please marry me and be my girl for the rest of my days and
nights on this earth and wherever I may go thereafter?”

I take the ring from my jeans pocket. It’s
an elegant, wide platinum band with sapphire baguettes kissing each
other in an exquisite row, except for one spot that will forever
purposely stay open. I slide it onto her finger as she comes down
onto her knees in front of me. She’s nodding and, yes, crying her
eyes out. As am I.

“Scout…oh—oh my gosh. Yes…yes. It’s all I’ve
ever wanted, my whole life. It’s all, well…this and….”

“I know, baby. Me too. You’ve just made me
the happiest man this world has known.”

“Scout, this and…”

“Sweetheart, this and what?”

She reaches into her pajama pants and hands
me a white plastic stick. I know immediately—and if you thought I
had fireworks inside before, well, think again.

“You’re pregnant?”

“Uh-huh. My fairy tale, right? It’s
happening…. Scout, you make everything right for me. You always
have.”

“Tessie girl. Dear God, you’re pregnant with
our baby? We’re going to have a baby? How long have you known? I’m
so happy, sweetheart!”

“Today. When I was in the bathroom…that’s
when I found out.”

“Oh, Jesus, Tess—when I was on the other
side of the door, that’s what you were doing?”

“Yeah. Peeing on sticks.”

“That’s my girl. Once a tomboy…”

“There’s something else, Scout.” She takes
my hand, we stand, and she leads me over to the king-size bed.

“Undress me. I need to be against you. Skin
on skin.” The mystery in her eyes is irresistible as she sits on
the edge of the bed. We share a smile as I pull her pj bottoms
off.

“Tess, Tess, Tess. God, how I’ve missed
you.” I wish I could say I wasn’t nervous to see her new skin since
the surgery, skin that she’d gone ahead and had surgery on for me.
Skin that will likely need ten more surgeries, now that’s she made
the first move. I wish I had gotten there in time to stop her.

“Scout, I’m sorry. I didn’t know. Forgive me
for not trusting you.”

“Tess, it’s okay. You assumed…it’s okay. I’m
just sorry I didn’t make it to you in time.” I have the bottom of
her sweatshirt in my shaking hands and she has them gently pinned
down as though she doesn’t want me to see—as though she can’t let
herself. Are we here again? Now?

“You tried. That matters,” she says as her
eyes fill with tears.

“Tess, it’s okay. Let me see. You’re
beautiful to me, no matter what. Nothing has changed, okay? Well,
nothing except that now you’re my gorgeous fiancée and mother to
our little one.”

She puts her hands on my face, placing a
small, tender kiss on my lips as I lift her sweatshirt up over her
head.

“Tess?”

“I never did.” Her smile goes from ear to
ear and I want to eat it off her face as she throws her arms around
my neck.

“Oh my God, my sweet girl…you never did? You
trusted yourself. You found…you.”

The look on her face makes my heart jump
wildly as I pull her body up onto mine. I stand with her in my arms
and spin her around in circles.

“With a little help from a five-year-old
named Gigi. I have super-duper powers now. I’m going to use
them—wanna see?”

“Yeah, I do,” I tell her as I pepper her
face with kisses. Then toss I her gently back down on the bed and
start to unbutton my shirt.

“Hi, I’m Tess. I’m carrying your baby. I’m
going to marry you. Wanna fuck?”

I groan at her words. I can’t unbuckle my
belt fast enough. Zipper down, and I’m out. Hard as a titanium
rod.

“Hi, I’m Scout. You’re carrying our baby.
You’re going to be my sexy wife. And yes, I really, really want to
fuck.” I climb on top of her as she giggles in that playful way
that makes all my senses stand at attention.

I study her face, the only face I’ve ever
loved, as she pulls my lips onto hers.

“God, you’re gorgeous…your lips, your eyes,
your naked skin…your heart…. And in there…our baby. Our baby.
Beautiful Tessie girl.”

“Scout,” she whispers, taking me back to
sixteen when we were here in this very spot. I’d just kissed her,
then her hand was on mine, stopping me as I’d teased it up under
her shirt by an inch. And it feels like my yesterday, my today, and
my future are all coming together, wrapped up into one moment that
my mind flips through as if it were a storybook.

I peel her panties down, savoring every inch
of her, every inch of the girl I’ve ached for my whole life. The
woman that now will finally be mine for the rest of my life. A
shift of electricity sweeps between us as I lace my left hand in
hers, my thumb tracing the edge of the engagement ring I’d just
placed on it minutes ago. Slowly I enter the wet depth of her
tightness.

“Tess…”

Her eyes are lazy, seductive, but her
movements mirror mine in sensuous need wrapped with reckless
passion. The sensation of her moving beneath me sends a warm flood
of urge through every vein in my body.

“I’ve missed you, Scout. Oh…” Her soft kiss
presses against my smile. Her whimpers of need, breaths on my neck,
hands searching my body, are an invitation that makes me breathless
and urgent.

“Tess. So wet, so good. Sweetheart,
fuck…”

The sounds of our lovemaking, explorations
of each other, and commitment to our future as husband and wife
transform us from lovers to soulmates. Together we surrender,
giving in to our primal needs and urges with ravenous claim.

“Tess Steele…I love how it sounds as much as
I love being inside of you. Are you going to take my name,
sweetheart?”

“Of course I am. I’m taking all of you…oh,
God, yeah, Scout. So good…”

“All of me? Like this…deep like this?”

“I want all of you deeper in me.”

Our wild hunger holds us captive and courts
our collective climax. I feel her tighten around my girth,
punishing me with deep aches and rhythmic thrusts as I crave my
lustful release. I hold both of Tess’s hands captive above her
head, fingers entwined as I make love to her in an unforgettable
moment that has every fiber of my being in a full, soulful
swell.

“Tess…come with me.” I look into her eyes,
which are glassy with love and tenderness, acceptance, and a raw
fearlessness that I’d fallen in love with back when we were
teenagers.

“Scout, yeah…coming with you…” Her broken
words transport and provoke my fire until we find and uncover the
center of our pleasure together.

*

Tess holds her hand up to the light,
flipping it this way and that, admiring the sparkles on her ring.
“Sapphires, my favorite. They match your eyes. I know there’s a
story here. Spill it, Romeo. Whose were they? What’s the missing
gem mystery? Did you save it to fill the gap between my teeth? If
only I could rap better—I could get all Iggy on you.”

“Better? I’ve got bad news, Tess. You got
skill, girl…but not in that department. Your dog is as likely to
have baby kittens as you are to be rapping as well as Iggy
Azalea.”

She wraps her legs around mine, scootching
her hips close to me as she giggles.

“Now, for the ring…you’re onto my secret
ways, are you, my almost Mrs. Steele?”

“Almost Mrs. Steele…I like that. A.M.S.
Might be my new license plate on Gypsy Girl.”

“The sapphires were the Duchess of
Windsor’s.”

She gasps upon hearing her name. It’s as
good as telling her Christmas is now a monthly holiday.

“I’ve always known I was going to do
something with them for you. In my mind I had prayed for this. I
bought them last year at an auction in London. They were in a small
hat pin of hers. I know you loved her. I’m a good listener, in case
you haven’t noticed.”

Her eyes trace my face like it’s a map,
searching every corner for something, until she lands on my
eyes—finding me.

“The missing stone is for good luck.” I
bring her ring finger to my lips and kiss it. “My grandmother lost
a stone in her ring the year she and my grandfather got married.
She never replaced it. She told me it was an opening in their
relationship to always let light in, a good luck harbinger. She
called it the ‘imperfection of marriage,’ which is what makes it
such an exquisite union. I kind of liked that, being a story guy
and all.”

Her eyes are hypnotic, a near dreamlike
state glazing over them as she looks at me while drawing circles in
my chest hair.

“You always knew we’d be here. You always
knew. It’s like everything you’ve ever done for me was all building
up to this, Scout.”

“Your super powers are on high mode and my
force field is down. Yeah, somehow I knew it would all work out for
us. I didn’t know when, but I knew eventually it would.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

TESS

“Are you ready for me—and naked—because I’m
almost ready.” Being nine months pregnant and horny doesn’t exactly
go together like peas and corn. But my hormones are on overdrive
and although I look like a giant, ripe peach, I feel remarkably
sexy…and holy man candy, do I need to get some.

“Sweetheart, no woman like you has to ask
her husband if he’s naked and ready for a lap dance. I’ve been
sitting here with a hard-on nursing this drink for ten minutes
waiting for you to come out of there.”

“Sorry, I just want it to be really
good…really sexy. I’m just finishing up.”

My arms encircle my beach-ball-sized belly
as I try to reach past it. I feel a bit like I’m at the circus
tryouts. Putting on fishnet thigh highs has never before had me
breaking out in a marathon sweat.

I peek out the door to see my handsome
husband of two months as he sits on the leather chair in our
bedroom, buck naked. He’s been begging for a pre-baby lap dance.
Who could refuse a man who wants that from his post-pop preggers
wife?
Post-pop,
as in one week past due. As in, get out here
now, baby! Scout finds this whole pregnancy thing very hot: the
bigger I am, the more horny he gets. The nice thing is once I got
to my twentieth week, beyond all my nausea, my tits got…well,
blimpluscious. And yes! I was all in.

“Sexy? You already are, baby! That belly
alone…hottest thing ever.”

“Very funny!” My belly, for the record…it’s
not sexy. It’s stretch-marked to the hilt and my burn scars now
look like Silly Putty gone rogue. All I need now are the Sunday
comics tattooed all over my bigness. But I love that he says it
anyway. A well-trained man, if ever there was one.

“I love your belly. Come on, sweetheart. You
don’t have to try hard—but you better come out of that bathroom if
you want me to stay hard.”