To Cherish and To Hold (Love of a Rockstar #1.5) (7 page)

“Yes. We’re going to be parents for the second time.”

“Holy shit.”

“My thoughts exactly.”

A weight lifted off my shoulders as the revealed secret drifted in the air between us. Luke shoved the sheets aside and tugged on a pair of sweatpants. He also grabbed a robe, throwing it to where I lay.

“This conversation deserves clothes,” he said.

“Why don’t we take advantage of the situation instead and talk after?”

“You’re pregnant, Marlene. Do you understand that?”

My chances of having an orgasm dwindled before my eyes. I slipped my arms into the silk robe and tied the sash around my waist.

Luke burned a hole in the hardwood floors as he paced. His hair looked tousled, his baby blues wild. Strangely, when Luke became frantic, I got calm. We were like ying and yang, always balancing each other out.

I sat crossed legged on the bed. “Are you happy, excited, or…?”

“This changes everything. The date of the wedding, my tour.”

“I have thought about that and if my calculations are correct, I’ll only be fourteen weeks pregnant once the wedding rolls around. My dress might have to be loosened a bit, but that’s all.”

Luke tugged his fingers through his hair. “And the tour?”

“You should go. It’s important to you.”

He skidded to a halt and arched an eyebrow in disbelief. Laughing, I threw a pillow at his head. He ducked at the last minute before it hit him.

“I’m not that much of a bitch,” I said. “Your dreams are my dreams. If you miss being a musician, then go on a smelly tour bus with your band mates. Maybe then, those damn groupies will get off my lawn.”

“But I can’t leave you in your second trimester. What if something happens?”

“Nothing will happen and if it does, I’ll call Camille, my grandmother, or my mom. There’s a support system in my place for me here, just like it was five years ago.”

Whenever our past came up, Luke’s luscious lips turned downwards at the corners. The wounds of his actions as a young immature boy were still fresh and I had a hunch, they would never heal because he wouldn’t let them. Luke had whispered one night two months ago that he wished I’d punished him further. He thought he got off too easy. Maybe that’s true, but missing the first part of Nil’s life was greater than any punishment I could give him.

“Come here,” I beckoned.

He crawled onto the duvet and laid his head in my lap. “I want to be that support system.”

“You are, and you will be even on the road. We can have daily Skype calls where I’ll flash you my growing belly and most likely, tons of phone calls to complain about my symptoms.”

“It’s not the same.”

“No but we will make do Luke. We always have.” My palm tenderly stroked his cheek. “I didn’t fall in love with Luke Anderson, the rock star. I fell in lust with the hot lead singer of a punk band, then in love with the goof who sings in the shower and wears socks to bed. You are my best friend, my soul mate, and the father to my children. Whatever comes our way, we are in this together for the long haul.”

L
uke tilted his chin up. A smile that could light up the state of Texas decorated his face. I leaned down and kissed him on the mouth. He deepened the embrace, nibbling gently on my lower lip. He tasted like red wine and chocolate cake, my favorite dessert.

When we spilt apart, he spoke. “You are an amazing woman, Marlene Parker. I don’t deserve you.”

“Stop. You deserve me like I deserve you. Who else would put up with our weird quirks?”

“Like not being able to sleep with the pillow facing outwards?”

“Or having a tolerance to hot sauce that is inhuman?”

Luke laughed. “Guess you are right. We do deserve each other.” His fingers grazed my bare stomach. “When did you find out?”

“A couple of days ago in the Rite Aid bathroom. When that pink line showed up, you should have seen how freaked out I was. Camille thought I got arrested.”

“You called her?”

“Yeah, she dropped what she was doing and came rushing over.”

Luke scrambled to a sitting position. A storm blazed behind his blue eyes.

Baffled at the sudden shift in mood, I almost convinced myself my mind was playing tricks.

His tone tense, he spoke. “She knew before me?”

“Yeah, but it’s not a huge deal.”

“It’s not a huge deal?!” He glanced over his shoulder in the direction of Nil’s room. Once he was sure she wouldn’t waddle into our bedroom, he lowered his voice to a harsh whisper. “You told your best friend before me. I’m the father. I should know first.”

Luke sounded like a toddler, claiming ownership over a toy—if a toy was a baby, that is. Nevertheless, I saw the merit behind his point but it hadn’t occurred to me a chain of who should know first existed, or that it mattered.

“I didn’t want this pregnancy to color your decision about going on tour,” I said.

“So what? You were going to wait until I came back?”

“No.”

“Then what could possibly be your reason?”

My hands twisted in my lap. Luke would be devastated if I told him that my doubts stemmed from him. That for a God-awful minute I’d second-guessed how far we’d come as a couple. That I was stuck in the past until Mathew had shed light on the present.

“I don’t know. I’m sorry. You are right—I should have called you first. I’m just so used to being on my own that it’s going to be awhile before that changes.”

“Fine, I understand that, but do you know what really stings?” He continued on without waiting for an answer. “You stole that moment from me. The waiting on pins and needles for those two pink lines to show up, the excitement, the nausea, and the overwhelming joy when it does. All those emotions you experience together as a couple, you gave away to Camille.”

Tears brimmed in my eyes at the pain in his gaze. I wanted to rewind time, but that wasn’t possible. The only thing left to do was beg for forgiveness.

Getting on my knees, I steepled my hands in a plea. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. We can do it again. I’ll get another test. That’s what I’ll do! And we can experience everything you described.”

“I don’t want some manufactured bullshit. Christ, Marlene.”

With another sad-eyed look, he opened the bedroom door and left me with my regrets.

The basement underneath the house had been turned into a music studio when Luke moved in. It was his version of a man cave. He had retreated down there since our fight—three hours ago.
The longest three hours of my life
.

Without cell phone reception, there wasn’t a chance of contacting him either. Transferring the frozen pie dough to the refrigerator, I dumped a pound of apples into a bowl. I vigorously peeled and sliced them into chunks before tossing them into a scorching pan with brown butter and cinnamon. I breathed in the nostalgic smell of the holidays when the world glittered.

“Mommy!” Nil cried, skittering into the kitchen. Her blonde hair tangled into a mess of knots. “Can we go to the art museum?”

“Not today sweetheart. Mommy has work to do.”

She responded with a blank look as if she didn’t understand what I said. Laughing, my foot nudged the step stool closer to me.

“Come here,” I said. “You can watch how apples become apple pie.”

“I’m ok, thanks though.”

With the attitude of a teenager, she sauntered back to her bedroom. That girl would be the death of me. Once caramelized, I finished the apples off with a squeeze of lemon. The crumble would be made the week before the wedding.

The sound of the front door clicking open was followed by my grandmother’s voice. “Marlene? Yahoo!”

I peeked my head around the doorframe. She stood in my living room, sporting a fresh tan from her vacation in Mexico and an inner honeymoon glow.

Wiping my hands on a dishtowel, I went to greet her. “Hey, you look nice.”

“Thanks, darling! It was so incredible.” She pressed her palm against her chest. “The white sand beaches, the crystal clear ocean, and the drinks! They never stopped flowing. I haven’t gotten drunk in God knows how long and completely forgot how fun it is.”

“And your husband?”

My grandmother grinned wickedly. “My husband is going to need another week to recover.”

I blanched at the images her statement conjured. While I was happy my grandmother had found her soul mate, their sex life wasn’t a topic I wanted to cover.

She patted my arm. “Trust me, sweetheart. It gets better with age.”

“Awesome, Grandma,” my tone seeped in sarcasm. “Are you glad to be home?”

“I am. Bill’s farm needs a woman’s touch. I’m going with a rustic cottage look. Creamy yellows, gray blues and salvaged wood.”

“Sounds pretty.”

“It will be, but poor Bill had no idea what he was in for when he married me. He is just the sweetest though, and has the patience of a saint. I’m lucky a woman.”

“He’s a lucky man.” I directed us to the couch, where we sat on the worn cushions. “So any particular reason you stopped by?”

“The seating arrangement for your wedding. Your mother is treating it like it’s the Bill of Rights or something.” She dug around in her purse. Pulling out a pair of reading glasses, she perched them on her nose and opened a two ring binder. In bold letters on the front it read,
Luke and Marlene’s wedding
. She flipped to the section color coded in red.

“Go fetch Luke.” My grandmother ordered. “This has to be done today.”

“We can do it without him.”

“No, we can’t. This seating arrangement involves his family, too. We can’t stick his uncle with his revengeful ex-wife.”

“He doesn’t have an uncle or much family to speak of.”

My grandmother looked at me suspiciously from underneath her eyelashes. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. He’s busy in the studio and I don’t want to bother him.”

“Well, too bad. He’s going to get bothered if you want this wedding to happen. Now, go!”

I reluctantly rose off the couch. Luke didn’t normally lock the door to the basement, but I wouldn’t put it past him if he did this time. He didn’t like to lick his wounds in public. The knob turned easily in my hand. A breath I didn’t know I was holding expelled. A bare light bulb flickered overhead as I descended. Damp earth greeted my nostrils. Through the second door and a narrow hallway, the space opened into a single room. Luke had designed the recording studio after he read a book on
feng shui
. My eyes roamed the area and found him in the corner. His hair covered his face like a curtain as he bent forward, strumming on a guitar. Headphones covered his ears. He looked like the young musician I’d fallen in love with all those years ago. Sensing my presence, our gazes locked. A flash of pleasure ignited in his stare but it quickly faded into raw betrayal. My knees wanted to buckle at his feet, but begging obviously wasn’t the answer. What was eluded me.