Kestrel (Hart Briothers #3) (33 page)

“You do?”

“Yes. So get that cast off and we’ll get married.” I
hold out my hand and he shakes it.

“Deal. This is the strangest engagement I’ve ever heard
of.”

“You started it.”

“No, the condom did.”

“I love you, bubs.”

“And where did this ‘bubs’ come from?”

I cast him a sheepish look. “You see, I’ve succumbed to
the pet name thing.”

“Oh, you have, have you?”

“Yeah. And I hate babe, baby, and that sort of thing. It
just doesn’t work for me. But I love bubby. So I’m calling you bubby or bubs.”

“So, let me get this straight. You think a bird for a
pet name is demeaning, but bubby or bubs isn’t?”

“No. Bubby and bubs are adorable. You’re like a big
Teddy bear to me.”

“Hmm. Teddy bear. Bubs.” He scratches his forehead. I
need to do something to divert his attention, so I take his cock in my hand and
start massaging it.

“I know what you’re doing.”

Grinning, I say, “I certainly hope so.” I scoot off him
and take him into my mouth. When he starts groaning, and his fingers tangle in
my hair, I know he’s forgotten all about bubs.

Soon he yanks my head back and says two words. “On top.”

That’s something I don’t refuse. I cage his legs with my
thighs and lean in toward his mouth. Smiling, I ask, “Ready, bubs?”

“Are you?” He slides his cock into my opening and I seat
myself on it.

“Is that answer enough?”

Hands grip my hips and he moves me up and down as my own
fingers sink into his shoulders. Kestrel takes over my body, like he always
does when we make love. He invades my blood, my soul, and my heart. Our gazes
connect and I couldn’t pull mine away from his if I tried my hardest. He
saturates me with his being as if every molecule of his invades mine. We define
the true meaning of becoming one.

Tiny beads of perspiration cover us both, making us
glisten. One of his hands moves to my nipple and he brushes the back of it
across it. “Lean into me. I want to taste you.”

When I do, he slips out a little and I moan in
disappointment.

“We’re not in any rush, angel.” His breath is hot
against my breast. My hand presses his head against me. His hair is longer now.
He hasn’t cut it since Christmas and my hand grabs a chunk of it. It makes him
look wild, untamed, like the man he claims to be. I know a different side of
him, though. My bubs. I smile. Just then, his teeth nip into me and I moan
again.

“Ahh!”

“Mmm. You always taste so sweet.” When he talks it
tickles.

I pull away and say, “You always taste salty.”

He laughs and thrusts upwards making me gasp. We’re back
to our rhythm now.

“Shall I make you come?”

My voice is shaky as I answer yes. His hand moves to the
right place between my legs and he says, “Oh, angel, you are like silk.”

“To your velvet.”

“Come for me.”

“I’m almost there.” And then I climax and he follows.
What is it about a man having an orgasm that’s so damn sexy? Or is it just
Kestrel? I only know him so I can’t say, but the sound he emits and the way his
body contracts is almost spiritual. It makes me want to absorb the moment.

“I wish I could stretch out on top of you and mold
myself to you.”

“Fucking cast. I want those precious legs of yours wrapped
around me. God, I love you, Carter.”

“I know. I feel loved. I love you back, bubs.” I kiss
him. Then I remember. “Um, we didn’t.”

“Didn’t what?”

“Use a condom.”

“Yeah? Maybe we’ll get lucky and have a baby-angel after
all.”

“But then Carter won’t have any Kestrel time.”

“Oh, yes she will. I don’t care if we have to hire a
nanny. Carter will have Kestrel time. I’ll make sure of it. That nanny will
take baby-angel to work with you, if she has to.”

“You’re a nut.”

“I am aware.”

“So, when’s the cast supposed to come off?”

“Yeah, we need to bribe the doctor. Maybe we can get him
to take it off early.”

“Nope. Not going for that. Your leg is more important.”

He takes my hand and says, “You’ll really marry me?”

There’s so much doubt and uncertainty in his eyes, it
pains me.

“Kestrel, I love you more than anything. If you didn’t
have that cast, I would marry you tomorrow. Actually, I would marry you
tomorrow anyway. The cast isn’t an issue for me.”

“I promise to always be your parachute, angel. Always.”

He looks at my hand, and rubs circles on my knuckles
with his thumb. Sometimes I wish I could read his mind. Then he looks up at me
and smiles. “Will you take me to Ells’ headstone?”

“Yes. But why?”

“I’ve never been and think it’s time I go.”

“Okay. When?”

“Today.”

It’s an ordeal loading him in the backseat of the SUV
that he now owns. It’s one of those giant Chevy
Suburbans
.
He needed that so he could sit in the back seat with his leg extended on the
bench style seat. He can walk fine with crutches. We get to the cemetery and
the headstone isn’t that far from the narrow road. I park so the side of the
car he exits from will be facing the marker. We take it slow and easy. The
headstone looms in the distance and I feel myself getting teary-eyed, as I
always do when I come here.

“It’s okay, angel.” He knows. He always knows.

We get there and I lovingly run my fingers over her
name. Kestrel stands silent for a moment, but then he surprises me when he
begins speaking.

“Hi Ells. My name’s Kestrel, but you probably already know
that. I wanted to stop by and introduce myself to you because I’m going to
marry your Mom. I want to make a couple of promises to you. First, I’ll take
very good care of her. She won’t ever have to want for anything ever again.
Second, I promise to love and cherish her every day of my life until there is
no longer breath in my body. This I swear to you. I hope to give her plenty of
angel-babies, like you are. Which brings me to the last thing I want to tell
you. I know in my heart you were in the car with us that day. So thank you for
being our guardian angel and watching out for us and keeping us safe. Ells, I
also know that had I met you when you lived in our world, I would’ve loved you
as much as I love your Mom.”

Jesus H. Christ. He pulls me into his arms as I cry
silent tears of joy. When I can speak, I say, “And one other thing Ells, you
would’ve loved him like crazy.”

Then we turn and slowly make our way back to the car.
The sun suddenly breaks through the leaden sky, and streaks of gold slant in front
of us, paving a deep lustrous yellow path to our car. I look up at Kestrel and
he smiles down at me. We both say, “Ells.”

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Kestrel

A small group is gathered at the house. It includes
Foster and his wife Janet, Kolson and Gabby, Harper, John and his wife, and
then of course, Carter and me. It’s the first week of April and Charleston is
at its finest. The back yard is a treasure of blooms. Wisteria hangs heavy with
vines dripping in lavender blossoms, azaleas have burst out everywhere painting
the yard in a hue of pinks and reds, the huge flowers of the magnolia trees
have popped out, and the fragrance of gardenias permeates the air.

At my firm insistence, Carter finally hired a full-time
staff. One is a cook and two others do household chores. They are here, too,
but we’ve actually had the food catered in from Huck’s Restaurant tonight.
We’re serving quite a medley—lobster, crab cakes, beef tenderloin
medallions, a variety of sushi, grilled vegetables skewers, tomato caprese,
baby spinach salad, and wedding cake for dessert.

Carter didn’t want a big fancy wedding and neither did
I. When I told her how Gabby and Kolson did their wedding, she liked the idea
so much, she wanted to copy it. So that’s what we did. Foster performed the
brief ceremony and now we’re on to the celebrating part.

Harper grabs my arm and gushes, “This food is amazing!”

“Tell Carter. It was all her choice.”

Harper skitters away to find Carter. Kolson looks at me
and says, “Well, bro, you did it.”

“Oh, did I ever.” I only have eyes for one person here
and she knows it. She turns to look at me and I wink.

“I’m happy they get along so well,” Kolson says.

“Are you kidding? Gabby would never have let me marry
someone she didn’t approve of. She would’ve harassed, hounded, or done
everything in her power to run the poor girl off.”

“Probably.”

“Probably?”

“She was worried you were going to hitch up permanently
with one of those hooker type chicks you used to date.”

“Really? You had to bring that up? At my wedding?”

Kolson shrugs. “Sorry, bubs.” Then he laughs.

“Aw, Christ. Is nothing sacred in my life?”

“Apparently not.”

Shaking my head, I walk away and head toward my wife.
When I reach her, I say, “So, dear wife, I have a bone to pick with you.”

“I
knowwwww
.” She screws up
her face. “I’m so sorry. I did it by accident. It just slipped out. But don’t
worry. I got them back.”

“How?”

“I told them what I thought of pet names and the thing
about birds. I pretended I didn’t know what a kea was. I told them that I
thought it was disgusting to be called a nasty assed bird. You should’ve seen
their faces. It was righteous, bubs.”

I grab her around the waist and lift her in the air. “I
love you!”

“Hey, you shouldn’t be doing this. It’s not good for
your leg.”

“Oh, yeah.” I put her down. “By the way, have I told you
how gorgeous you are today?”

“Um, let’s see. Maybe a dozen or more times.”

“Good. I’m telling you again. You are positively a
goddess, and thank God you’re mine. Your dress is perfect. I’m glad you didn’t
wear cupcake.”

“As if.”

“And I’m glad you didn’t wear some white concoction.
This gold is your color.”

“I thought you’d approve. It reminded me of the dress I
wore to that formal fund raiser we went to.”

“It does. But I like this one even better. Those thin straps
are begging for me to rip them off of you with my teeth. It reminds me of a
slinky negligee.”

“You’d better not rip them off until later. And it is
slinky. Why do you think I got it?”

“To tempt me?”

“Precisely.”

I reach around and cup her ass.

“Hey. We have company.”

“Like I care.” I pull her in and kiss her. Not a light
and gentle one either. “Mmm. You taste of champagne. I can’t wait to taste the
rest of you. Tell me, angel, are you wet?”

“Do you honestly have to ask me that?”

Glancing around quickly, assessing the crowd, I wonder
if we have time for a quickie. But she reads my mind.

“Not in the least.”

“No?”

“No. Not that I wouldn’t love it.”

My crestfallen look has her giggling.

“Don’t worry, bubs, I’ll make it up to you.”

“I’m holding you to that.”

We mingle and eat and mingle and drink. The sun sinks
over the harbor and our limo waits for us in the driveway to whisk us to the
airport. Soon we board the private jet and fly to our honeymoon
destination—Tahiti.

***

Nine Months Later

“Breathe, angel. Now push!”

“You fucking push. I’m tired of pushing.” She’s pissed
and I can’t say I blame her.

“You’re almost there, Mrs. Hart. One more time,” the
doctor says.

“Come on, Carter,” I urge as I stand next to her shoulder.
“You can do it.”

She grabs my hand and, holy
fuck,
she’s going to break all the bones in it.

“Like I have a fucking choice? Ugh!” she groans, as she
pushes again. Damn, her face is red. So red it’s almost purple. Is that safe? That
can’t be safe. Shit, I hope she doesn’t kill herself in here. My heart pounds
in my chest.

It’s a long and hard one but the doctor says very
calmly, “That’s it, Mrs. Hart. Just one more and you’re done.”

“You fucking lied to me. That’s what you said last
time,” Carter accuses.

In the calmest voice I can muster, I say. “Come on,
angel, focus.”

“Focus, my ass. You focus, goddammit! Jesus Christ, how
big is this fucking baby anyway?” she yells.

This time an entire series of curse words fly out of
Carter’s mouth as she pushes. She’s dropped enough F-bombs to blow up the damn
hospital. Under any other circumstance, I might be embarrassed. But I feel
terrible for her. I never knew what women endured during labor and delivery.
Jesus, why do they even have kids? Now I have to question how the human race
survived.

The doctor’s voice finally has an element of excitement
in it. For a while there I thought she was half dead. “Mrs. Hart, the head is
out! The tough part is over.”

“
Whoopti
-fucking-doo!” Sarcasm
oozes out of Carter.

Is this my wife talking?
My sweet,
gentle wife?
It must be the drugs. It has to be the drugs. I look at the
doctor, but she’s not paying attention, she’s holding the baby that’s half in
and half out of Carter’s vagina, and oh hell, can that be our baby? That thing
is nasty looking. It’s covered in some kind of disgusting looking grayish-white
slime. And blood.
Deep
breath
Kestrel
. Holy
shit if I faint, I’ll never live it down. Why do babies look like shit when
they’re born? They’re supposed to be pink and pretty. No one prepared me for
this! How can I ever look at Carter’s vagina again and not think of this? I am
so screwed.

The doctor twirls the little bugger around and then I
see. Its face is smashed in and it’s covered in that slimy shit. Is that
normal? How can it breathe? Is it breathing? Oh, God, it’s a boy. Now I really
wanna faint. How the fuck am I going to be a father?

“Mrs. Hart. Mr. Hart. Congratulations. You have a son!”

Carter is crying. “Bubs, we have a boy!”

They lay the slime-covered thing on her chest and she’s
rubbing it. She’s actually touching it with her hands! Oh, God, now I’m really
freaked. It looks like an alien. The doctor clamps the cord and asks me if I
want to cut it. The fuck? She wants
me
to do
that
? What if I say no? Will
that make me look like a shit? So I take the scissors with a shaky hand and
snip the rubbery looking tube. I really want to vomit now. Holding back a gag,
I watch them mash Carter’s belly and pull the remains of the placenta out. Ack!
It looks like a deflated purplish-gray rubber ball. This is beyond disgusting.
Fucking A. Can it possibly get any worse? Wasn’t it better when fathers stayed
in the waiting rooms? Why the hell did they change things? Who was the idiot
that decided we needed to be in here for this? Oh, God, help me. I’m sweating
now and my head is buzzing.

“Bubs? Bubs?”

“Yeah.” I need to breathe. Why can’t I get any air?

One of the nurses says, “Mr. Hart, take a deep breath.”
She wheels one of those stools behind me and shoves me onto it, then pushes my
head between my knees. “Deep breaths.”

A few minutes pass and I finally feel normal again. I
hear the doctor announce his weight at nine pounds three ounces and that his Apgar
is ten, whatever that means. Thank God. Now I need to have another look at baby
alien. He’s a fucking baby alien beast! Nine fucking pounds!

When I stand, I’m relieved to see they wrapped the thing
in a thin blanket. Carter says, “You wanna hold him?”

No! Not really. Is he still slimy? “Yeah,” I hear myself
croak. My hands shake as she hands him to me and suddenly this indescribable
ooey
-gooey feeling rushes over me. Then it invades every
one of my pores and I keep repeating, “Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, God.” I feel water
dripping on my hands and realize it’s my own tears. My ass collapses back down
on that stool.

“You okay, bubs?” Carter asks.

“Yeah,” I breathe. “Oh my God. He’s beautiful. He’s the
most beautiful thing in the universe. Have you ever seen anything so beautiful?
And he’s ours, angel. I’m overwhelmed by our little miracle here. You were
right.”

“About what?”

“I melted. The little guy made me melt.” And then I
start sobbing like a big pansy ass. Not so much because I’m holding this
unbelievable little guy, but because someone ripped me away from my mom.
Holding my son—feeling the way I do—I can’t imagine how my mother
must’ve felt. And then the fucker that did it never loved me. Never showed me
one damn ounce of affection. It all breaks loose right here in Carter’s room as
I hug our tiny son tenderly to my chest. And Carter is right about me. I could
never in a million years be a bad father to this baby. It wouldn’t be possible.
Because if anyone ever tried to hurt him, ever tried to harm one teeny hair on
his head, I would annihilate the son of a bitch.

I look up at my wife and she knows. She sees it.
Smiling, she reaches out her hand to us. I stand and hand her our baby. The
doctor and nurses have left and it’s just the three of us.

She pats the bed and says, “Get in here bubs. I need you
close to me.”

I climb into the bed next to her and we lie there, our
loving little family. She opens her gown and lays the little guy on her breast.
He snuggles right up to her and makes these cute little
slurpy
noises. I am in awe once again as I watch her nurse our son. Then with her
other arm, she hugs my head.

“You did great, angel. I don’t know how you did it, but
you were awesome.”

She looks at me and smiles. “I had you to help me.”

“Nah. I never knew how fucking hard it would be for you.
And even after all that work, you still are the most beautiful woman in the
world.”

“Thanks, but I couldn’t have done it without you.”

I put my arm around her and the baby. “So, angel, what
are we going to name him?”

“Can we name him Daniel after my father?”

“How about Daniel Drayton Hart?”

“Kestrel, do you know what your real name was? Before
Langston stole you?”

“Yeah. It was
Traynor
McConnell. Why?”

“How about Daniel
Traynor
Hart?”

“I’d kind of prefer Daniel Drayton and if we ever have
another boy, why don’t we name him
Traynor
?”

“Okay. Daniel Drayton it is. Kestrel? I’m glad you let
it all out.”

“It hit me at an odd time, don’t you think?”

“Not odd at all. You finally came full circle.”

I think about it for a minute, and she’s right. The son
has a son. And now he’s determined never to do what was done to him.

“You need sleep, angel. You had a rough few hours. He’s
a beast, isn’t he? Nine pounds. Wow.”

She laughs. “Yeah, he is. He’s gonna take after his
daddy.”

I
kinda
like the sound of
that.

“I’ll be right here with you, if you need anything,
angel.”

“You always are, Kestrel. You always are.”