Young Revelations (Young Series) (48 page)

I shrug. “I tried not to think about it, but the truth of the matter was that I wasn’t used to that sort of attention. At the same time, I kept reminding myself I was there to work for my family, not to let someone I’ve never met in my life take over my thoughts.”

“As I understand it, there was an altercation between the two of you in the parking lot with pepper spray,” Dr. Morris comments. “How do you go from that to a coffee date several days later?”

Sighing, I think back to the very beginning when I knew absolutely nothing about Matthew Young. When I thought I’d never see him again after that initial meeting. I’d been surprisingly bothered by that fact—so much so that I finally gave into Tom’s incessant requests for a date. I don’t know if I was doing it because of Matthew or because maybe I was finally exploring dating options when I’d never been concerned with dating before.

“I have no idea,” I admit. “All I know is that I couldn’t get him out of my head and I could barely concentrate on anything.” I pause for a moment, glancing over at Matthew, expecting to see him grinning cockily again; instead he’s looking back at me as though he’s seeing me for the first time, and I have no idea why. “Then the day at the diner when I saw him sitting there, I was annoyed and relieved and confused, and a million other things. I didn’t know what to think and I didn’t know why he would be there.”

“You didn’t think he would be there to see you?” Dr. Morris asks with a raised eyebrow.

“I hoped,” I say. “But no, I didn’t know why he would want to hang around a diner in the middle of nowhere.”

“So why did you think I was there?” Matthew asks, turning to look at me with his head cocked to the side.

I realize suddenly that I’m about to admit something I never wanted to admit, especially not to Matthew. But maybe I need to. “I thought maybe you were there,” I begin slowly, my gaze moving to my fingers, “because I turned you down the first time and you considered it some sort of a challenge.”

Dr. Morris sits up a little straighter in her chair, looking more interested. “Why do you use the word challenge?” she asks.

I sigh again. “Because I didn’t know why else he could possibly be interested in me,” I say in a rush. “Granted, our interactions were very limited at that point, but he seemed like the type that could get anybody he wanted, so why would he want anything to do with me unless there was a bet involved or he felt like I was rejecting him on principle.”

“A bet?” he whispers incredulously. I don’t have to look over to know I’ve hurt his feelings. I knew this was a bad idea.

“Go on, Samantha,” Dr. Morris says quietly, ignoring Matthew’s interruption.

“The sad thing is I didn’t care,” I tell them. “I’d spent so much time thinking about him that for the first time since my mother died, I felt like there might be something more for me, whether it was Matt or just getting out of Iowa altogether. But there he was and for whatever reason, he seemed determined to stick around until he could talk to me. And I wanted to talk to him. So much so that I cancelled plans with my best friend to go on a coffee date with a complete stranger I knew nothing about.”

“What does that tell you, Matthew?” Dr. Morris asks.

He huffs a humorless laugh. “That she thought I was a shallow prick who only showed any interest in her because of a fucking bet,” he spits out.

Dr. Morris frowns and narrows her eyes at Matthew, who mutters some sort of apology.

“That’s not what I was trying to say,” I tell Matthew. “I wanted to know you as much as you seemed to want to know me. And by the end of that date, I never had another thought about bets or you thinking of me as some sort of challenge. Do you know why?” He doesn’t attempt to answer my question; he just sits in his corner of the couch like a sulking little boy. This makes me smile, thinking how much he looks like Tyler right now. “I think I fell a little bit in love with you that night. And from there I never looked back. Why do you think I’m still here, Matt? I love you. If I didn’t, I would be long gone after everything that’s happened and I wouldn’t have looked back.”

He finally looks over at me, his brow furrowed in thought. Dr. Morris and I talk for several more minutes while Matthew broods in his corner.

“Well,” Dr. Morris says half an hour later, “I think that is the end of our session. The two of you have a bit to talk about, I think, particularly Matthew.” I look at him uncertainly, finding him nodding. “I wish you both luck on your wedding day, though I don’t think either of you needs it. It’s clear to anyone who sees you together for more than a few minutes that you are very much in love with each other. Even if your communication needs a bit of work. But we can talk about that after the New Year.”

Feeling confused, I let Matthew take my hand and lead me out of the office, not even giving the receptionist the briefest thought. We ride the elevator in silence, both of us staring straight ahead at the doors. As we exit and head towards the car, I’m starting to feel a little dejected. This was his idea, not mine, and now he’s got hurt feelings over something I thought more than eight years ago. I tug my hand from his and start to get into the car, but he stops me.

“What?” I ask him, turning so my back is resting against the door.

His mouth opens partway and I wait for him to speak for what feels like an hour, and just when I start to tell him I just want to go home, he’s pressed against me, his tongue in my mouth and he’s kissing me desperately. I have no idea what’s going on right now or why his mood has suddenly changed, so I do the only thing that makes sense, which is to kiss him back just as desperately.

When he pulls away, we’re both out of breath and he rests his forehead on mine. “I fell in love with you that night too,” he whispers. “Hell, probably before that, when you threatened me with that damn pepper spray. And the only challenge ever involved in our relationship was the one for me to not chase you away completely. That’s why I came back to the diner—I couldn’t get you off my mind either, and I couldn’t focus on a damn thing I was supposed to be actually doing.” He pauses for a moment, looking down at his feet, and when he continues, it’s in a tone of wonder. “You love me.”

My brow furrows. “Of course I love you,” I say. “I’ve said it a million times, Matt—”

“I know, but…” he trails off, smiling. “You really love me.”

I push him away slightly and realize he’s just now coming to some sort of understanding. “How can you not know that?” I whisper incredulously. “We’ve been married once before, we’re getting married again. We’re about to have two children together… What more do I have to do to get you to realize what you mean to me?”

“Nothing,” he says softly. “Something Dr. Morris said during one of our other sessions just clicked in my head.”

“What?”

“She said that sometimes we put the person we love on a pedestal so high that we can never measure up in our minds. I know I’ve done that with you. You’re too good for me, Sam. Of the two of us, you’ve always been a better person, one that I strive to be every day of my life. And I know you love me, but on some level, I suppose I’ve just been waiting for that to change and one day you would wake up and realize how low you set your standards, and I’d never see you again.”

“If I’m such a good person, why would I do that?” I ask him, still processing this entire conversation. “Matt, the thing that makes us so great together is that we always find each other again, no matter what happens. And you know why I’m still here? Aside from the loving you more than life itself thing…” He smiles a little. “You’re fighting for me. This is what I’ve wanted from you since that night Tyler and I left in the first place. I wanted to know we were worth it to you. Maybe that’s why I gave you back my ring the night Tyler was kidnapped—I wanted to see if you would finally fight for me.”

“Well, if that’s all it takes,” he murmurs. A moment later, his expression is as serious as I’ve ever seen it. “I will always find you, Samantha, and as long as you want me to, I will fight for you.” He kisses me again, this time with more meaning and he takes his time.

He pulls away again and I give him a small smile. “That’s good to know,” I tell him. “Right now all I want is to go home and curl up in front of the fire, and maybe a foot massage.”

Chuckling, he opens the car door for me and helps me into my seat. “A foot massage, huh?” he repeats.

“Yes. Carrying your daughter around all day is murder on my feet,” I tell him matter-of-factly.

He rests an arm on top of the car and the other on the door as he leans down to look at me. “Well, that’s a damn good reason for a foot massage,” he tells me. “What would you say if I altered the deal with popcorn, hot chocolate, and one of those chick flicks you seem to like so much?”

“I’d say you’re a keeper,” I reply, grinning.

He smiles widely at me. “Good to know,” he says softly, pressing forward to kiss me far too briefly. “Let’s go home.”

“Matt, this is not going to work,” I say breathlessly. We’ve been at this for nearly a quarter of an hour and all we’ve achieved is pinched fingers, pulled hair, and a twisted ankle on Matthew’s part when he moved incorrectly. “It’s too big.”

He grunts in frustration, pushing harder. “It’s not too big,” he says through clenched teeth, “and it
will
work. This is not the first time, Samantha.”

“This is ridiculous!” I whisper in exasperation, reaching up a hand to wipe the sweat off my forehead. “Whose idea was this?”

“You agreed,” he reminds me. “You’re the one who was so determined to get all this shit done in the middle of the night and in the dark!”

I glare at him. “When else would we do it, Matt?” I shoot back at him. “Between Lily and Tyler, there is no privacy in this place and I know the last thing you want is one of them walking in on us. Lily doesn’t know the meaning of ‘keep it a secret’ and by tomorrow the entire damn town will know what we’re up to. And there would be the very unnecessary explanations to Tyler. Do you really want to deal with that?”

He murmurs something under his breath I pretend not to hear and steps back slightly to examine our problem. “Okay, push back as hard as you can, then tilt to the left slightly. I think I can force this thing through.”

“You’re going to break something,” I tell him, rolling my eyes. “Why don’t we just do this from the back? It’s bigger back there and it would be much easier to get through. This is really becoming more work than it’s worth.”

“I should have had Marcus help me with this,” Matthew grumbles. “Men have a way of reading each other’s minds when it comes to things like this.”

“Maybe you should have,” I snap. “Because clearly you know better than me what’s going to go through my side even though you can’t even see from that angle.”

We spend several more moments arguing in whispers, turning, twisting, and pushing, and finally our hard work pays off and Matthew is inside again. I roll my eyes at him. “Happy now?” I ask irritably, rubbing at my belly as he closes the front door and we look down that the dog house my wonderful fiancé just had to have. I can only shake my head for what has to be the hundredth time at Matthew’s extravagance. It really looks more like a child’s playhouse than anything. Shaped like a wood cabin tree house, it’s actually got an upstairs and downstairs, and is complete with staircase and a three-foot high slide. Why a dog needs a slide I’ve yet to figure out, but as always, Matthew dismisses the ridiculousness of the whole thing.

“Very,” he says, beaming at me. “Wasn’t so hard, was it?”

I choose to walk away rather than argue.

At eleven o’clock on Christmas Eve, the one thing I want to do is sleep. But of course customary Christmas tradition states we need to lose sleep in order to get everything ready for our son’s perfect Christmas morning. Right after Tyler went to bed, Mark arrived with the puppy who is now fast asleep on the living room couch. Along with the puppy, Matthew and I went all out to make our son’s Christmas morning memorable. Under the tree is a variety of packages in all shapes, sizes, and colored wrapping paper. Videogames, toys, a book series Tyler’s been talking about for weeks since a friend from school told him about it, and much to Matthew’s disdain, there are also clothes. He insists socks, underwear, and complete outfits ruin the magic of the day and made up for my apparent cruelty by buying nearly everything in the town toy store.

I sit on the living room couch and a moment later, Matthew flops down unceremoniously beside me, throwing an arm around my shoulders. “Last Christmas, did you think, even for a second, we might be here right now?” he asks, whispering against my ear.

“Definitely not,” I reply, resting my head on top of his. “Last year was the first year I actually managed to keep from thinking about you every five seconds. I think the worst part about it was whenever I wanted to make a joke about Tom’s parents or brothers, I’d turn around to say it to you and realized you weren’t there. It was really rather pathetic.”

“That’s not pathetic,” he tells me. “I did the same thing and then ended up spending the whole day wondering what you were up to. Very depressing.”

I nod in agreement. “Not this year, though,” I remind him. “This year is going to be great.”
“It’s going to be fantastic,” he corrects me. “And next year will be even better.”

“Why next year?”

“Because we’ll have our daughter,” he replies simply.

I don’t know how else to respond to that, so I just shuffle closer to him. Matthew and I are in a really great place right now, which is a good thing since our wedding is about thirty hours away. After our first session with Dr. Morris, I decided to join Matthew twice more and I think therapy is actually going to be very beneficial for us. During our last session, we discussed our first marriage. The ups and downs, and everything in between. Dr. Morris made us dig deeply into some of the problems we had, most of which stemmed from Matthew’s belief that I needed guidance in the big bad world outside the farm when in reality, I was doing just fine. Yes, I was young, possibly too young, but I knew what I wanted from life. I wanted a life with Matthew and I was willing to ignore the fact that my husband thought it best to keep me out of the loop on most things, even when it directly affected me. That can’t happen this time around and even Matthew agrees—given his inherent need to protect me from everything, it was a rather reluctant agreement, but he’s made me a promise to tell me anything he can tell me, barring top secret business dealings or information regarding someone who specifically asks him to keep quiet. I did the same, even though it’s rare that I actually have anything of any great importance that I felt the need to keep secret.

We also realized we have trust issues to overcome still—though that’s no real surprise—as well as problems with jealousy and just generally believing the other is in this for the long haul. Dr. Morris managed to get both of us to admit our fear about the other person running when things get tough. She also reminded us that no relationship is ever perfect and if we’re striving for perfection, we’re going to fall flat on our faces. And given what a perfectionist Matthew tends to be, I could see him twitching out of the corner of my eye as he fought to not argue. I had to tell him I’m not looking for perfection as long as he treats me like a partner in everything that happens rather than someone who needs constant sheltering, and I think he’s finally starting to understand. Whether he maintains this attitude after the drama in our lives returns is still unclear, but I have to make sure he doesn’t slip back into old habits.

Of course, Matthew isn’t the only one who has things to work on. I have to learn to vocalize my concerns when something bothers me and not just bottle it up because I think Matthew might have too much on his plate without adding my problems to the pile. Dr. Morris has also suggested I have sessions on my own to overcome my apparent lack of self-confidence when it comes to Matthew. I couldn’t argue her suggestion, knowing it’s been an issue from the very beginning.

I’m startled back to the present when I hear whimpering at my feet. Matthew chuckles and pulls away from me, picking up the puppy from the floor and setting him between us. “He is very cute,” he says thoughtfully. “I always wanted a dog.”

My brow furrows as I try to remember whether Matthew has ever mentioned this before. I’m coming up with nothing. “I didn’t know that,” I say, scratching the puppy behind the ears. “You never had one as a kid?”

He shakes his head. “Nope,” he responds. “Aside from moving around as much as we did, my dad thought a dog would just destroy the house. I did have a hamster when I was ten, though.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Only had him for a few weeks. I put him in one of those hamster balls to get some exercise and one of my sisters left the backdoor to the patio open. Next thing I knew, he was rolling off the edge of the third story. Claire and I went looking for him, but we never found him.”

“That’s terrible!” I tell him, trying not to laugh. “You must have been devastated!”

He shrugs. “I got over it pretty quickly,” he says. “I’ve always had suspicions that Elizabeth and Holly left the door open on purpose, so when I couldn’t find Stumpy, I grabbed a garter snake and let it loose in their bedroom. Perfect revenge.”

I’m not sure what I find more amusing—the fact that he caught a snake to torture his sisters or that he named his hamster Stumpy. “I think we’ll let Tyler name the puppy,” I tell him, grinning.

“Probably a good idea,” he agrees. “Though I’m not hopeless picking all names; I did think of Olivia.”
“That you did. And it was the perfect suggestion.”

He grins rather shyly. “Glad you think so,” he murmurs softly.

We both look up when the clock chimes midnight, smiling at each other. “Merry Christmas,” I say quietly.

“Merry Christmas,” he repeats, leaning over to kiss me slowly and tenderly. “I’ve got something for you.”

I raise an amused eyebrow. “I bet you do,” I tell him.

Rolling his eyes, he shakes his head in exasperation, though I know he’s fighting not to laugh. “How crass of you,” he comments. “I’ve been a bad influence on you after all.”

“This isn’t news,” I reply, realizing he’s kneeling in front of the Christmas tree, searching for something. “And I thought we’d agreed we weren’t going to exchange gifts.”

He looks over at me, looking confused. “When did we agree on that?” he asks.

“Around the time we decided to have our wedding the day after Christmas,” I remind him.

He snorts a laugh. “You didn’t actually think I’d adhere to that rule, did you?” he asks smugly. “Seriously, Sam, do you know me at all?”

As a matter of fact, I do know him. Quite well. And I knew he wouldn’t follow the no Christmas gifts suggestion, so while his back is turned, I reach over to open the drawer of the end table and remove the wrapped box for him. When he stands up, his eyes find his gift from me and he smirks. “Thought we agreed?” he teases, walking around to sit beside me again. A small square box rests on his knee.

“Yeah, well, I knew you would only break the rules, so I figured I should have something for you too,” I tell him, smiling as we exchange gifts. “And it’s not much, but I saw it and thought it would be perfect for you.”

He grins. “I think you could give me a box of tissues and it would be a perfect gift,” he says.

“I’ll keep that in mind for next year,” I reply. “You’re incredibly difficult to shop for. Open yours first; wouldn’t want to be overshadowed.”

Rolling his eyes, he shifts in his seat smirking at the sight of the puppy fast asleep between us. I watch slightly nervously as Matthew begins to carefully unwrap his present. It really isn’t much—just something I happened to see during a shopping trip with my sister for maternity clothes. By his standards of gift buying, it really is nothing, but I really thought it would be something he’d enjoy. Looking down at the small package he gave me, I already know his gift for me is going to be over the top, because when Matthew is involved, it’s always over the top.

The top of the box is removed and he moves the tissue paper out of the away. A slow grin spreads across his face as he removes the gray t-shirt from the box and shakes it so he can see the whole thing. “Well, it’s true,” he tells me with a wink. I roll my eyes, relieved that he likes it. I knew he’d get a kick out of the large block letters across the front that says
I make adorable babies
. “I love it.” He leans over and presses his lips against mine briefly before removing the shirt he’s wearing in exchange for the new one.

“There’s something else in there,” I tell him.

He removes the tissue-wrapped pink onesie that spells out
Adorable Baby
, and laughs. “Absolutely perfect,” he snickers. “Thank you, Sam.”

“You’re welcome,” I tell him quietly.

“Your turn.”

Smiling, I pull on the little bow wrapped around my gift and remove the lid, then gasp. Inside, nestled on a black velvet pillow is a charm bracelet with only two white gold heart-shaped charms. The first holds a small green emerald and below it is Tyler’s name and birth date. The other doesn’t have a stone or a date; only Olivia’s name. I grin slightly at the middle name we chose a few days ago.

“I thought about waiting until she was born to give this to you,” Matthew says quietly, taking the bracelet out of its box, “but I’m a little impatient. When she’s born, I can take it in and get the stone and the engraving. Now seeing what you gave me, I’m happy I didn’t go with anything more involved. We seem to have worked with a theme.”

I hold out my wrist for him and he gently wraps it with the bracelet and locks the clasp. He then very carefully arranges the charms and sits back to proudly admire his handiwork. “I love it,” I tell him softly. “It’s more than perfect. Thank you.”

He smiles and brings my hand to his lips for a quick kiss. “You’re welcome,” he says. “I wasn’t sure if you’d want to wear it for the wedding. I realize it probably doesn’t go with your dress or anything.”

“You haven’t seen my dress,” I remind him. Though it hasn’t been for lack of trying. After the third time of trying to find ways to get a peek, which included sending in Tyler with a camera, dispatching a remote control car that relays real time video to a variety of different viewing displays, and “accidentally” coming into the room when Claire and I were looking at it, I sent it home with Claire, much to Matthew’s annoyance. He claims he must be getting old if he can’t perform the simple duty of getting a peek at his fiancée’s dress.