Still Into You: A Novel (Better Than Series Book 3) (4 page)

Chapter 4-Present:  Kitten

“Dammit!”  I bellow, as a stack of my best dishes crashes to the floor and shatters all over the kitchen.

I hear a small, sing-song-y cherub voice echo me, “Dammit, Dammit, Dammit, Dammit!”  I’ve never heard the word said with so much glee.  Frankly, I don’t know whether to laugh or cry at this moment.  I do both.

In seconds, my best friend, Jules Hagen-Boxwood, is standing at the entrance to the kitchen with a mini version of herself, her daughter Kitten Boxwood, in her arms.  Kitten is still singing her “sweet swear word” song.  She may look like Jules, but she is Charlie all the way, personality-wise.

“What happened?  I thought you were just coming in here to get a drink?” Jules asks, as she toes a couple of shards of dish away to make a path to me.  “Are you okay?” 

I laugh/sob and look at Kitten.  What the hell is wrong with me?

Jules answers her own question, “Oh. Oh no, you’re not okay.”

Jules hands Kitten off to me and then wraps us both up in a hug.   One of her patented “Jules hugs,” but with a little less bounce and more care.

Jules takes charge of the situation immediately, “Kitten, you and Aunt Bizzy go into the family room. I’ll get this cleaned up.”

“K, Mommy.” Kitten replies, “Aunt Bizzy, come on.”   Still in my arms, Kitten points to the family room. 

I hold Kitten tightly, give Jules another squeeze and whisper into her ear, “Thank you.” 

As I move out of the kitchen, carefully dodging the broken crockery, Jules calls out behind me, “I’m coming out there as soon as I clean this up to find out what’s going on with you.”

Before we even make it to the sofa, Kitten cups my face in both of her pink chubby hands and asks, “Aunt Bizzy, why come you cwyin’? And waughin? You hit youw funny bone?”

“No, baby, Aunt Bizzy is just a little sad, I guess, and then I heard your cute little voice and it made me happy at the same time,” I explain.

Kitten looks me straight in the eyes and says, “OK,” like what I said makes perfect sense.  She kisses me on the nose and then wraps herself around me with her arms and legs, like a pygmy marmoset, and hugs me.  She even gives me a few pats when she hears me exhale.  So like her mother in that way.  In every other way, she is her daddy’s girl.  I predict Kitten will be front and center singing with Boxwood, or maybe her own band, before we know it.

Jules is at my side in just a few minutes. 

“I think you’re going to need to go shopping.  You took out half of your Kate Spade dinner plates.” 

I repeat my sentiments from the original incident, “Dammit!”

My echo returns as Kitten again says, “Dammit!”

Jules and I laugh out loud.  “Jules, I’m really going to have to watch my language around her.”

Jules snorts.  “Are you kidding me?  She lives with the lead singer of a rock band.  I’ll be lucky if she doesn’t get expelled from preschool.”

I’m a bit calmer now, being cuddled by Kitten, Jules holding my hand.

“So, what’s going on?  Broken dishes, cussing, tears, laughs, you’re all over the place today,” Jules says gently.

“I really don’t know…” I say, but then it all floods out.  How I saw Jake and it triggered me thinking about the past few years, the challenges – trying and not getting pregnant, the trial, and the good things – Davis, her, Charlie, the foundation, my great job at the station, and most of all Kitten.  I tell her that I know how fortunate I am.  I’m a very lucky girl and I don’t know why I’m all mixed up emotionally.

“Well, for one thing, you’re coming off all of those crazy fertility drugs.  And I bet you’re about to have your period.”

“Yeah, I am,” I confess, but I don’t think that’s all.

Jules probes further, “You haven’t said anything about that madman, Randall, still being out there.  That’s not hitting your radar?”

It isn’t.  I explain that the police have been vigilant.  It appears that Randall has dropped out of sight.  Nobody has seen him or reported anyone looking like him since I last saw him under the bridge – years ago, after he nearly killed Davis.  Donnie Garrett, the investigating detective, keeps the case open and provides regular updates.  He has also become a good friend to us and the Brandon-Connelly foundation.  Donnie thinks Randall may be gone for good.

“So, a baby…you
really
want one, huh?”

I sigh and nod.  “More than I realized.”

Jules is three months pregnant.  Kitten hasn’t been told yet.  Jules and I begin to speak in code.

“Biz, you’re okay with this, right?”  Jules makes a circular pointing gesture at her belly. 

“Oh, my gosh, of course, Jules.  Never, ever think I’m not happy about that.”  I am a bit envious, but I’m completely thrilled that Jules and Charlie are having a second baby.  I just wish it was me.  “I just want a baby, too.”  The sobs return.

Kitten sits bolt upright in my lap.  I thought she was napping, but I was wrong.  She was listening.  Kitten brings her tiny hand up to my jaw and turns my face to hers, directing my attention from Jules.  Her expression is quite serious.

“Aunt Bizzy, you don’t need no other baby…you hab me.”

The laugh/crying commences again, and this time Jules joins in. The wisdom of my toddler godchild is great.  I kiss her cheek and say, “You know, Kitten, you are probably right.”

The front door to the condo bangs open.  Charlie and Davis appear.  Their hearty chuckles stop suddenly as they witness the huddle of women on the couch, bizarrely laughing and crying.

Kitten hops off my lap and runs to her handsome daddy and uncle in the foyer.

“Daddy!” 

Charlie scoops her up.  After a quick hug, Kitten reaches out for Davis.  Charlie passes her off to him.  They both look confused, but pleased at the attention from the little charmer. 

“Uncle Day-Bus!” Kitten gives him a big squeeze and plays with his hair, like she always does.

Day-Bus.  It’s an even better nickname for Davis than “Mavis.”

All the grown-ups laugh and repeat Kitten’s words.  “Uncle Day-Bus.”  She squirms out of Davis’ arms and returns to my lap.

Davis’ eyes have been on me since he entered the room.  He knows something is off.  He follows Kitten over to me on the sofa.  He sits on the opposite side from Jules.  I’m surrounded by concern.  Charlie comes over too.  He sits on the coffee table right in front of me.  Davis wraps an arm around me and pulls me closer.

“What? What’s going on?” he asks.

I open my mouth to speak, but am cut off by a tiny rapid-fire soliloquy.

“Day-Bus, Bizzy bwoke all your dishes.  Then she said, Dammit!  Then she cwied.  Then she waughed.  She did not hit herw funny bone.  She is happy, but she is sad because she doesn’t hab no baby.  I told her she didn’t need one, ‘cause she has me.  Oh, and the dwugs make her cwazy.”  Having synopsized the situation, Kitten jumps off my lap and waddles off to the guest room, where we keep her toys.

Davis, Jules, and Charlie are wide-eyed.  I can tell they are restraining themselves from busting out laughing as Kitten leaves.

“Man, we are in trouble,” Charlie gets out between snorts, “she’s a fifteen year old in a two and a half year old’s body.”

I say, “I guess she was listening.”

Davis looks a bit confused.

I continue, “Well, Kitten pretty much bottom-lined it.  I have to clarify, I
accidentally
broke half of our dishes, not ALL.  And I am VERY happy with my life.  And I am still a little sad, you know, about…”

Davis finishes the sentence, “no baby.”

I tilt my head and press my lips together in agreement.  “I’m fine, really.  We’ve been through this.  At this point, if it happens, it happens.  And like Kitten has reminded me, I have her.”  I reach over and place my hand on Jules’ belly. “And this little guy…or girl.”

“Are you sure?” Davis asks with an uncertain tone, “You’re not just saying that to gloss over everything?  Because I want to know if something’s really wrong.”

I reassure Davis.  And Jules and Charlie.  “No, I’m fine…really.”

Jules pops up and in typical Jules fashion pronounces that she and I need a Girl’s Day Out… or weekend… or vacation. Her reasoning is sound:  I’m worn out, she’s pregnant and we haven’t had a vacation in a long time, either of us. I’m about to protest when I catch Davis and Charlie looking at each other and smiling slyly.

***

“So? Whaddya think?” Charlie says with his eyebrows raised and hands upturned in question.

Jules is bouncing around the family room in celebration.

We quickly discovered what was behind the boys’ smirks.  My emotional meltdown couldn’t have come at a more opportune time for their proposition.  Boxwood is going on a big tour, the biggest of their career thus far, in the summer.  The rehearsals and the technical rehearsals with the sets and lights are starting in a little over a week in Atlanta.  Charlie was
going
to propose we all go down together during the rehearsal period, since Davis needs to go too, to do the lighting design.  Jules’ declaration gave him another idea.  He and Davis will go to Atlanta.  Jules and I will go to a resort in Florida and get pampered.  While I’m a little leery about being away from Davis, it sounds delicious.  Sun, warm water, sleep, quiet time, and girly stuff, like shopping and manicures. 

“You girls need to relax…” Charlie says smoothly.  “We’re going to need you all rested up for visiting us on tour this summer.”  Aaaahhh, the ulterior motive comes out.  Jules smacks Charlie on the arm.

Davis is still at my side on the sofa.  He’s moved me closer, wrapping me up in his arms.  He rubs the tip of his nose against my ear and whisper-growls, “Yeah, Rest up.”  Sheesh, that is hot!

Jules and I agree to the plan.  We are chattering wildly about where we will go and what we will do…or not do, like maybe we’ll just veg in our bikinis all day, when something strikes me.

“What about Kitten?”  I ask.

Davis and Jules say, “Oh.”  I think they actually may have forgotten she factors into the plan, they were so caught up in the idea.

Charlie puts up a hand and waves it back and forth quickly to indicate, ‘No problem.’  “Already taken care of.  When I hatched the original plan, I made a call to Jules’ parents.  Grandma and Grandpa Hagen are ready to take delivery of our small, blonde wiggly package whenever we’re ready.”

I need to get a bikini.

Chapter 5-Present:  Packing

We’re going on vacation! Well, Jules and I are going on vacation.  For twelve days.  To a beautiful resort on the white sands of the Florida panhandle.  Right after Charlie proposed the idea and we agreed, Jules went on the internet and found the most amazing, secluded 5-Star condo resort. Evidently, it’s where all the “beautiful people” stay when they are there. It’s out on a peninsula, away from the really touristy part.  I called Gail and was, thankfully, able to arrange some vacation time on short notice.  I don’t have any on-air commitments in the next 3 weeks and Henry can take over anything that’s in production, along with the assistants.  I just need to go in and get everything set up for them, so it runs smoothly.  And there is always the cell phone in an emergency, but I’m not sure Jules will be thrilled if that happens.  And the best part, Davis and Charlie are going to join us at the end for three or four days.  Second honeymoon.  Davis and I leave tomorrow for our respective destinations.  I’ve been packing all afternoon.

“What are you doing in there?  How’s it going?  Are you organizing my socks again?” Davis shouts to me.

“Noooo,” I reply from the walk-in closet.  I’m gathering more things to pack for the trip, and trying on my new bikini.  I rearrange the bottoms a bit, pick up my beach bag and step out of the closet to show off my swimwear.  Davis turns to look at me and I whip off a model turn, throwing the bag over my shoulder with a flourish.

“Whoa, you’re
not
wearing that.” Davis states. I’ve never heard him tell me I can or cannot wear something. He must be joking.

Laughing it off I tell Davis, “Of course, I am.  I got it for Florida.  I’m just showing it to you.”

“Uhm, no you’re not.  All those damn spring breakers down there this time of year?  No, not wearing that.” Davis is quite insistent.

“There won’t be that many spring breakers.  It’s almost the end of spring break.  They certainly won’t be looking at me, I’m an old lady.”

Davis is shaking his head, “Yeah, right.  Old lady. You’re 27 and really hot.”  He’s now moved over to me, taken the beach bag out of my hand and tossed it onto the bed by my suitcase.  Davis snakes an index finger under one of the strings holding up my bikini top and slides his finger up and down.  I can’t say I don’t like it.

“It really is a great idea – the vacation.  I think it might be just what I need.” I say.  Davis frowns.  I hope he doesn’t think being away from him is just what I need.  That’s not what I meant. 

I’m just about to open my mouth to tell him so, when he says, “I know it’s a great idea. I just wish I had thought of it before Charlie.  I’m kicking myself.  I had a feeling you were a little blue.  I just wasn’t intuitive enough to think of it before he did.  I’m sort of pissed with myself.”

It doesn’t matter who thought of the idea.  I certainly wasn’t thinking of a vacation, prior to Jules mentioning it and Charlie running with it.  “It’s okay, baby.  Mavis, I didn’t even see the need myself.”

Davis has slipped his fingers up both strings of my bikini top, all the way behind my neck.  He’s working at untying the bow holding the top on.  “Yeah, well, from now on, I’m going to be … Much.  More.  Attentive.”

Davis is slowly untying the lower set of strings of my bikini top, while holding the top ones.  Once I feel the final loop slip, he flings off my top, so I am standing, in only my bikini bottoms, my breasts lightly grazing his t-shirted chest.  His fingers are skimming ever so delicately over my shoulders, arms, across my chest, until I believe they have reached their chosen destination.  Davis teases my breasts and nipples with light, stimulating touches.  It’s different and making me oh-so-excited.

“What are you doing?”  I tease, lifting my eyes from watching his hands to make eye contact.  I notice the green of his eyes is now almost forest, his pupils large and black.

“I’m helping you pack your swimsuit.”

“Oh, well, you missed some of it.”  I slide my hands lightly down his chest and abdomen and when I get low enough, point with one finger to my bottoms.

Davis leans in and whispers hotly, “Don’t worry.  I’ll get to that.” He reaches out and takes both my arms, puts one on each of his shoulders, and in one smooth move, grabs me around the waist with one arm and hikes me up onto his waist.  I automatically wrap my legs tightly around his hips.  His face is eye level with my breasts and he takes full advantage of the position.  His free hand cups and manipulates my breast as his thumb strokes the nipple roughly.  It quickly tightens into a deliciously painful point and just as quickly is covered by Davis’ punishing lips.  I arch slightly, thrusting my core into his now hardened crotch, building the excitement below and causing a tugging tension where his lips are on me, circling and sucking.  I’m so caught up, I don’t really notice we’ve moved, or Davis has, until I feel myself being lowered and see suitcases and clothes and accessories flying off the side of our bed.

“So much for packing,” Davis growls. 

He lifts me up on the bed, so my head practically hits the headboard.  I reach down and grab the bottom of his t-shirt, pulling it frantically over his head and throwing it heaven knows where.  I have a brief, hilarious thought of what our bedroom must look like right now – the antithesis of “packed and ready” for sure, well maybe just the antithesis of “packed,” because we both are definitely ready.  I move quickly to remove Davis’ shorts, pushing him to the side of me to get a better hold on his zipper.  He has managed, while I was focused on undressing him, to untie my bikini bottoms, pull them out from under me and chuck them into the sea of unpacked vacation wear.  He barely kicks off his shorts when one and then two of his long, strong fingers breech my folds and are in me, stroking my g-spot in a “come to me” motion.  He presses his thumb onto my clit and circles slowly.  The two contrasting motions have me swirling and bucking in response.  I groan and it is at once silenced by Davis’ lips coming down on mine.  His tongue pushes into my mouth and begins the same circling and stroking his fingers are so deftly engaged in.  I can barely think, my hands are one minute clutching his back, then his hair and they finally slam back onto the bed as I grasp at the duvet.  The ascent is so measured and powerful.  I kiss Davis back, trying to keep up stroke for stroke.  I am dangerously close.  I want him in me.  Reaching down, I grasp Davis’ cock.  It is hard and pulsing, but almost silky to the touch.  I circle the crest of it with my own thumb and suck on Davis’s lips and tongue, as if I were down there.  He moans loudly when I do. 

“Put your hands up on the headboard and hold tight,” Davis commands.  I do.

He pulls away from me, rears back on his knees, lifts my hips up and slams his hardness into my wet, wet folds. 

I hear myself moan with pleasure and relief, “Aaaaaaah!” as Davis does the same.  Holding firmly onto the headboard, my ass in the air, I meet Davis with each stroke as he pounds into me, holding me to him with one strong, straining arm.

The movement is at first slow, deep, heavy and then increases to a pounding staccato.

Davis’ gaze is boring into me, “Don’t let go of the headboard.” He pulls my pelvis toward him, seating himself even deeper, one arm still encircling me, one directing the movement of my hips.  I am almost completely off the bed, with the exception of my shoulder blades.  I don’t know how much longer I can hold on, to the headboard, or to delaying my pleasure.

Davis pulls me toward him with a large tug, while delivering one final deep thrust to my vibrating core.  “Uh, Damn.  Lizzz-eeerd.”  I come in waves with him and the deep, throaty intoning of my nickname.

As he pulls out, I sigh, “Oh, Uh, Wow.  Just, Davis, Wow.”

“I know,” Davis says, still panting.  “And that’s just packing.  Imagine if we took a real vacation.”

“I’d never see the pool or the beach, would I?” I ask, jokingly.

“Nope, and come to think of it, I’d be a good way to keep college guys on spring break from ogling you.  I may have to put off Atlanta and go with you.”  He’s laughing, but there is a tinge of seriousness to his words.

I roll over so I’m half on top of him, throw one leg across his hips, grind a bit and then rain kisses on his chest. “It’s supposed to be a ‘Girl’s Only’ thing, Davis.  You and I will have some time at the end.”

“Okay…” Davis concedes with a fake pout.  “But I did just demonstrate the effect of that bikini on a dude, so keep covered up, okay?”

I agree, to prevent any further discussion, “Fine, I’ll wear a sarong.”

“Not much better… hmmm, I’m going to be thinking about getting that bikini off you again the entire time I’m away from you.”

I confess, “Good.  That was my plan.”

I pick my head up from his chest and look around our bedroom.  It looks like a Target store blew up.  Turning back to Davis, I shake my head while resting it on his chest and tell him, “You are terrible at packing.”

“What?”  He responds slyly, “I thought that was great packing.  If you like my packing, you should see how I unpack.”

I’m looking forward to coming home as much as leaving now.

***

Charlie and Davis toss our bags up onto the conveyor belt outside Security.  Davis adds a dramatic grunt, “Uhh.  What did you put in there, Lizard?  Depleted uranium?”

When he turns back around to make a goofy face at me, I smack his upper chest scoldingly, “No, just shoes and swimsuits and stuff.”

“Whose shoes?  Frankenstein’s?”  Davis teases me more.

“No.  I just don’t know what I’ll need.  I want to be prepared.  And it’s
not
that heavy.  You lifted it before.”

The four of us walk to Security.  Charlie and Jules are in front of us, their heads close together, whispering and sharing small intimate kisses on the cheek and nose as they go.  Davis and I hold hands.  He does my favorite thing – rubs his thumb across my knuckles.  Mmmm – Davis’ thumbs.  They might be one of his best body parts.  At least in the top five.

When we arrive at security and our departure is imminent, I’m suddenly a little anxious.  I haven’t felt this way in a long time.  My panic attacks have been under control for years, thanks to Dr. Matt and all my compensatory strategies.  I’ve just not been away from Davis for any extended length of time since we got married.  A day or two, now and then, but never this many nights in a row.  It’s something we agreed to without words after being apart for three months before we got married.  We’ve always managed a way to work our schedules so we aren’t apart.  I suddenly miss Davis, even though he’s right in front of me.

Obviously sensing my unease, Davis says, “Hey, You okay?”

I nod my head, fearful that if I talk I’ll cry.  And there really is no reason to cry.

As if reading my mind he tells me, “I’ll miss you, too.  It’s only nine days.  You’ll have a good time.”  Trying to make me laugh, he adds, “I had a really good time ‘packing’ last night.”  It works.  I smile broadly and am rewarded with Davis’ smirky smile and naughty eyebrow raise.

All I can say is, “Packing,” as I recall the fun of last night.  I tuck myself further into Davis’ embrace and pop up on my toes to give him a slow, deep kiss.  He moans his approval of the move.

“Davis, say it!”  I demand.

“I love you,” he replies quickly.

“And I love you, too.  But that’s not what I want to hear.”  It’s my turn to raise my eyebrows and tilt my head.

Davis hums and taps his temple with one of his long fingers, “I don’t know if I can say it and mean it.”

“Please… it’s so reassuring when you say it.  Like my day can’t start without it.”

Davis concedes.  I can see Jules out of the corner of my eye, signaling that we have to get going through Security.

I push further into the embrace, pleading physically.

“Oh, okay… HAVE FUN!” Davis finally spits out.

I kiss him one more time and tell him thank you and I will.

I turn away from him, immediately missing his warmth.  Getting into the Security line, I purposefully don’t look back at him, when I hear in a whisper-shout, “But not too much.”

I lift my head and turn from reaching for a plastic tub.  The only thing I see in the sea of people is Davis’ face, his lips puckering into an air kiss, a devious wink of one emerald eye and his huge smile.  I can just make out him mouthing, “Love you,” when the TSA agent yells for me to keep moving and Jules tugs on my jacket, bringing me back on task.  I proceed through the Security line, turning back quickly to try and get one last glimpse of Davis.  When I do he’s gone.  I think, “Love you, too, Day-Bus” (giggling internally at Kitten’s nickname for him).  I know we’ll probably text each other throughout the week, so I’m not really sad.  I’m just always better with him around.