Calling Me Home (9 page)

The chicken was in the oven, the bathroom clean. I just needed to clear out some of the boxes, and we’d be halfway to making the place just look cramped and uncared for, which would be a distinct improvement. I’d wanted to welcome my family into our home, and for everything to be shiny and beautiful. That wasn’t going to happen, and I had to accept that.

“What’s that smell?” I jerked my head toward the kitchen. Luke bolted for the oven, bringing the glass door down with a thump.

“Crispy chicken is always better than soggy chicken,” Luke said as he stared into the cooker. He was authoritative but unconvincing.

My shoulders sagged. “Let’s take a look.” I peered into the oven to see what looked like a large lump of coal. “Well, at least we can be sure it’s dead.”

Luke chuckled. “Yes, that’s for certain. It doesn’t matter. I could do a chili, or what about enchiladas?”

I looked at my watch. “Make out with me?”

“What did you say?”

“I don’t care about the chicken or what’s going to replace it. I don’t care that the place is a mess or that I need to brush my hair. We have twenty-five minutes. It’s not long enough to get naked. So let’s make out. We can worry about what we’re going to eat when people arrive.” Having all my stuff unpacked and being able to produce Sunday dinner no longer seemed so important. Luke was what I wanted, and I needed to make sure I didn’t lose sight of that. I lifted myself up onto the kitchen counter and grabbed at his shirt, pulling him over to me so he was standing between my legs. “De-stress me.”

He smoothed his hands over my hips and kissed my forehead. I sank into his touch, the anxiety seeping away. He was all I needed.

The intercom buzzed, and we pulled away from each other, exchanging confused glances. We should have had twenty-five minutes of delicious kissing before we were interrupted.

“Stay there; maybe it’s someone who has the wrong flat.” Luke went to investigate. Before he’d reached the intercom, someone was banging on the front door. I slid off the counter. Our make-out session was clearly on hiatus.

I heard Haven scream, and I padded toward the ruckus in time to see her push past Luke and bolt into the guest bathroom.

“Sorry, mate, she’s been like that all week,” Jake explained as he handed Luke a bottle of wine.

“Irritable and pushy? She’s been like that her whole life,” Luke responded.

“It’s morning sickness,” Jake said.

Haven hadn’t mentioned being sick when I’d spoken to her earlier in the week.

“Hey there, how are the internet videos going? The feedback on that one with the honey was amazing,” I told Beth, who was hiding behind Jake.

“Please don’t make my sister sound like a porn star,” Jake said on a sigh.

Leaving Haven in the bathroom, the rest of us shuffled into the living room. Jake started to laugh. “Were you not expecting us?”

It really was a total disaster zone. “We were too busy shagging to worry about the state of the place. So distracted in fact that we burnt the chicken—”

“We’re going to take you out, if that’s okay,” Luke interrupted. I was so grateful to him for suggesting that. At least if I wasn’t in this place, I wouldn’t have to think about the mess it was in. “We’ll just wait for Haven to finish vomiting.”

Beth started to giggle.

“Sorry,” I mumbled.

“Don’t be,” Beth replied. “It’s good to know that you’re not perfect. You always seem so together.”

Luke burst out laughing, and I playfully smacked him on the arm. “Thank you, but it if seems like that then I need to diagnose you with a serious disease. I mean this with love: you have a severe case of shit in your eyes.”

The following day I’d booked off work, so I spent the day getting our place straightened out. It was beginning to look like home, with things of mine nestled against things of his. His books mixed with mine in the study and my toothbrush next to his in the bathroom.

I’d even bought some plant food from the flower shop on the corner for the magnolia tree I’d given Luke. They had some magnolia blooms that I also purchased and arranged in a vase on the table in a bid to show Luke that the collection of sticks poking out of the ground would become something beautiful if we took care of them.

By the time Luke arrived home from work, the place was looking fantastic, and so was I. I’d slipped into the gothic red underwear he’d bought me just a few weeks ago, which were still my favorite despite him giving me several sets since. As I heard his key in the lock, I put on my highest heels and grabbed a cold beer from the fridge.

“Hey, honey, I’m home,” he called from the hallway. “Wow, this place is looking great,” he said, scanning the living area before he settled his eyes on me. “But not as good as you, apparently.”

I took a swig out of the bottle and held it out for him. He moved toward me, took the beer and put it straight on the counter behind me. “I’m not thirsty.” His voice had that gravelly edge to it that I was only just getting used to. Lust lapped at my edges, and my eyes flitted to his crotch, then back up to his face.

He raised his eyebrows. “Like what you see?”

“I bought flowers,” I stuttered, moving across to the sofa where the magnolia blooms were in a vase on a side table. Luke came up behind me and kissed my neck.

“I can’t focus on anything when you’re dressed like that. You’ve got me so hard.” He fumbled with his zipper and pushed me gently over the back of the sofa. “Jesus, you’re perfect.” His fingers slipped inside my underwear, and he groaned. “So wet.”

His cock grazed the cleft of my ass, then pushed lower and right up to the hilt. He’d been in the door for under a minute, and he was already fucking me. He knew just what I needed.

His hands scorched my skin as his palms folded over my shoulders and pulled me onto his cock. He thrust forward so our bodies slammed together, hard and fast. Would I ever get enough of him surrounding me like this? Sometimes he’d torture me for what seemed like days before he slid into me. He’d make me come with his fingers and his mouth before I’d finally get his cock. Other times, like this one, it was as if he had no choice but to get inside me and take his own pleasure, as if doing anything else would make him insane.

“I need you so much,” he whispered, his softly spoken words in juxtaposition with the hard, sharp movements of his hips and the press of his fingers.

Luke

I passed the jewelry store again on my Saturday morning run. Pausing a couple of stores down, I braced my hands on my knees and drew in a few long breaths that filled my lungs and had a near instant effect on my pulse. I’d not found myself in this part of the city by fluke; I’d planned my route deliberately. When I went anywhere close to this street, that ring was all I could think about. Was it still there? Would Ashleigh like it? How would she react when I showed it to her? I’d done a bit of research, and what the jeweler had said about its value and rarity seemed to stack up. Another reason not to buy it disappeared.

Living together, waking up every morning in each other’s arms, was just as great as I’d known it would be¸ and I was becoming impatient again. She seemed to have settled more quickly than I’d expected. I didn’t want to miss out on buying her the perfect ring for when the time was right to propose.

Before this visit, I’d transferred some of my savings, so I was prepared just in case.

I stood and looked toward the store. I couldn’t make out the individual items in the window, but I knew where Ashleigh’s ring should be. I took small steps toward my prize, not taking my eyes from the spot where I expected to find it. My heart thundered in my chest as the gems came into focus. Her ring wasn’t where I was used to seeing it. There wasn’t even a space for it. Shit, had I left it too long? That ring had been perfect—as if it were made for Ashleigh. It couldn’t belong to anyone else. I needed it for her. I scanned the rest of the section, hoping to see it, but nothing. I rubbed my sweaty palms down my shorts and pressed my hands against the glass, trying to find what I was looking for. The elderly owner appeared beside me again as if from nowhere.

“Hello, son, good to see you again,” she said, forcing me to look away from the window. My chest squeezed at her term of endearment. It was almost certainly a meaningless phrase for her, but to me it was a reminder of how no one referred to me as their son anymore. I wished my parents were here to see me about to buy a ring for the love of my life, for the woman I hoped would one day have our children. It gave me some comfort that they’d known her and loved her.

“Are you looking for your ring?” she asked, patting my arm. “Follow me. It’s inside.”

Had I heard her correctly? Did she say she still had it? My body tensed in anticipation.

I focused on the tinkling of the bell over the door as I followed her into the shop. “You have it?”

“Yes, I kept it back here for you. Figured you’d be back again. I’ve seen that look before. It’s the same one my husband had for me. He wanted to give me the world from the moment he met me. And he succeeded. If that’s how you feel about your girl, then you should have this ring.”

My muscles loosened. I was going home with the ring in my pocket.

“You want to give her the world?” the woman asked.

I nodded. “She always seems to give me more than I could ever give her.”

“I bet she says the same about you. That’s when you know it’s right. When it feels like a privilege to know them.”

Ashleigh made me feel like I’d been let into a secret club. A love club. It wasn’t that I hadn’t been in love before—at least, I thought I had. It was just that it hadn’t been close to what I felt for Ashleigh. With her, it felt permanent, fundamental to who I was. With Emma, I hadn’t envisioned things changing. With Ashleigh, I knew it was forever.

I ran home with the ring in my pocket, reaching for it every block or so, just to check it was there. Like everything good in my life, I wanted to share it with Ashleigh immediately. But I knew I had to be patient. I had to convince her how I felt wasn’t going to change. The switch that had awakened my feelings for Ashleigh was strictly one-way. There was no going back, but she wasn’t convinced, not yet.

“Hey, I’m back,” I shouted.

“I’m in here,” Ashleigh called from the bedroom.

Where was I going to hide the ring? I couldn’t risk her finding it and bolting. “I’m going for a shower.” I hadn’t expected her to be still in bed when I got home. I’d thought I’d stash the ring in the bedroom. “Are you okay?” I asked as I entered the bedroom.