Present day…
“She’s with Dixon.”
Creed lay there, his sky blue eyes just staring. Not at the bacon sandwich he could smell which was set just out of reach but at Daddy.
He didn’t believe it. He’d lost track of time. He’d been there days, maybe weeks but he didn’t believe. His Sylvie wouldn’t do that. Not in a few days. Not in a few weeks. Not ever.
“She’s with Dixon,” Daddy went on. “Right now. It didn’t take her long with you being gone to realize she’s better than you. She’s a Bissenette. You may have your Daddy’s blood but you’ve got more of Winona in you. I know this. I know it because you’d set your sights on a teenage girl. Fuck with her head. Take her virginity. You’re trash, Tucker Creed. You were trash before that whore shoved you out. You’re trash now. Jason Dixon isn’t trash. Jason will give her everything you can’t, never could, never will. Jason will hand her the moon.”
Creed said not a word. He just lay there, staring.
Daddy got impatient and bent deep, leaning close.
“Promise to let her go, leave, never return, let her have the life she should have and we’ll feed you, we’ll unchain you, get you medical attention for that cut. I’ll give you ten thousand dollars and you can set up somewhere else. Promise to let her go, leave and never come back, never enter her life again, never phone her, never see her and this will be over.”
Creed spoke then.
And he did it to say in a cracked, parched, weak voice, “Never.”
I shot up to sitting in bed, the room dark, Creed’s strong arm along my stomach and I was breathing heavily.
The dream still had me.
I threw the covers aside and started to catapult myself from the bed but Creed’s arm tightened. Instead of jumping one way, I found myself flying the other. I landed in the bed on my back then Creed’s weight was on me.
“It was a dream, baby,” he whispered through the dark. “Just a dream. It’s over.”
It wasn’t a dream. It was real. He told me. He told me all about it. Even the new stuff.
Now I knew everything.
I thought I was ready.
I’d never be ready.
It hit me I was shaking so I did the only thing I could to get rid of the shakes. I wrapped my arms around his solid, warm bulk, lifted my head and shoved it in his neck taking in his scent, letting everything that was him envelope me.
“These dreams are kicking my ass,” I whispered back.
“Just hold on,” he murmured.
I sucked in breath, tightened my arms and held on.
The shaking left me and I found my mouth saying, “I don’t want you to go.”
It was early morning Friday, three days after the shit went down with Drake Nair. Outside of the three girls who got targeted needing a lot of TLC, things seemed settled. Creed and I were working my jobs as well as keeping an eye on Knight’s business but it seemed Nair had worked alone. Creed didn’t trust it, not yet, he wanted to do more digging and he wanted to be around in case something went down. So he spoke to Knight, Knight agreed and we were still nosing.
But the weekend was upon us and it was Creed’s weekend with his kids. He was flying back to Phoenix. He got them Friday afternoon and took them back to Chelle Sunday evening.
We’d discussed this and decided that this visit, Creed would tell them about me and he’d take some time to tell Chelle. He didn’t want her blindsided by the information coming from one of the kids that a woman named Sylvie was in his life. I thought that was cool of him to do but I didn’t envy him that conversation.
He wanted me to come with him but I talked him into going alone. His kids stayed with him and he was okay with me staying with all of them, telling me his kids were good kids, they’d adjust, they loved their Dad, sense his happiness and be cool with it.
He obviously knew his kids better than me but I disagreed. I thought they should get a head’s up and not be confronted with me on their turf until they had time to prepare. Creed didn’t like it but he agreed. I had a feeling he agreed more because he thought I needed time to prepare to meet his kids, not the other way around, but whatever. He’d agreed. So he was leaving that day and wouldn’t be home until late Sunday.
Now that the hour was nearly on us for him to leave, I didn’t like it.
Not at all.
I didn’t want him away from me.
Shit.
“Sylvie –”
I interrupted him, “Forget I said that. I didn’t say that.”
His hands came up to frame my face before he whispered, “Come with me.”
God, it would be so easy to say yes.
“I don’t want your kids –” I started.
He cut me off. “They’ll love you.”
I nodded against the pillows and I gave his body a squeeze.
“Yeah, they will,” I agreed. “I’m good with kids but this is different. This is about our future, all of our futures and it should be handled with care.”
“Baby, you don’t think I got my kids’ best interests at heart?” he asked.
“I’m not saying that,” I replied quickly. “I just think we should finesse this. Give them time. Take it slow.”
“Right,” he muttered then rolled, taking me with him so I was on top. He reached out a long arm and I blinked when the lights came on. When my eyes adjusted, I saw his on me. “Hotel,” he stated.
“What?” I asked.
“We fly there together. Get you a rental car, a hotel where you can hang but not sleep. I go get the kids and talk to Chelle. I spend time with them Friday, tell them about you. Friday night, late, when they’re in bed, you come to me, sleep with me, leave before they get up. Saturday, we do somethin’ together. Maybe a water park. Somethin’ fun. Somethin’ they’ll like. Somethin’ not on their home turf. You take off, come back when they’re asleep, leave again before they get up and we fly back together.”
Had I said before that Creed was genius?
Creed was genius.
“That would work,” I told him quietly and watched him grin.
“Will you be able to keep yourself occupied?” he asked.
I grinned back. “Totally.”
“Then it’s decided,” he muttered, his eyes on my mouth.
“It’s decided,” I agreed, getting the words out about two seconds before his mouth hit mine and he kissed me, deep and sweet.
When he lifted his head, he was not grinning. His gaze was intent and I’d since learned from seeing that look before to brace. So I did.
“Beauty,” he whispered.
“What?” I asked.
“Beauty. It’s pure beauty you don’t wanna be away from me. I don’t like that, baby. I love it.”
My hand slid up his chest to his neck where my fingers curled around. Once they reached their destination, they moved and slid up further into his hair. Then they put pressure on to bring his mouth back to me so I could kiss him.
When my tongue slid in his mouth, I planted a foot in the bed and rolled him.
Then I kissed other parts of him.
Suffice it to say, it took us a while to get back to sleep.
When we did, we both slept easy.
“I’m walking up to your house now,” I said into my phone, hitching up the strap of the bag on my shoulder and got a, “Gotcha. I’ll be at the door,” back from Creed.
Just an FYI, Phoenix in July was hot. Not your normal brand of hot. Hotter than the hinges of hell kind of hot. I’d never been in hot that hot. I didn’t even know hot that hot existed. It was eleven thirty at night and the heat had not left the day.
Not good.
After we flew in and rented the car, I followed Creed to a nice hotel close to his house. We checked in, got the lay of the land and he took off to meet Chelle for lunch prior to picking up Kara and Brand. I got changed directly into my bikini and made an appointment for a mani/pedi and facial for later that afternoon at the hotel spa. Then I hit the pool because, everyone knew, if you went to a place with palm trees, even if only for the weekend, you came back with a tan, including kickass bitches like me.
This was a mistake.
Lying by the pool was not relaxing and enjoyable. It was like baking in an oven. Even the water of the pool wasn’t cool but beyond warm. Although it provided relief, it wasn’t much and didn’t last long.
Therefore, I gave up on the tan and went back to my room, showered, did my spa treatments and hung out watching movies and ordering room service until Creed called to say the kids were in bed.
On the plane, I’d decided on a plan for the weekend, a weekend I’d spend mostly away from Creed and also meeting his kids.
I didn’t normally plan. I usually flew by the seat of my pants. My dead partner Ron told me this was one of my three great skills. I could think on the fly better than anyone he’d ever seen, including during his stint in the Marines. I could cast a mean lure. And last, I was better than Marion in that arctic bar in Raiders of the Lost Ark during a one-on-one drinking contest.
But this was too important not to have my shit together. So my plan was, tan and relax on Friday, hopefully get through Saturday without making his kids hate me and discover Phoenix on Sunday to see if I wanted to be the one to make the move for Creed and his kids.
My time by the pool was, unfortunately, not conducive to me wanting to make the move for Creed and his kids. My time walking up to his house, albeit this lasted probably ten seconds, didn’t help either.
I lifted my flip-flop clad foot to take the step into the covered front entry of his adobe-style, terracotta tile-roofed house, the door opened, Creed stood in it and I felt much better.
“Hey,” I greeted quietly, grinning up at him.
Creed didn’t reply. He leaned deep, reached out with an arm, hooked me around the waist, took me off my feet and suddenly I was in the cool house. The door shut behind me, my back arched over his arm, my front plastered to his and Creed’s mouth was on mine.
Yeah, feeling much better.
He lifted his head and when he caught my eyes he muttered, “You don’t have to be quiet for the kids. They both sleep like the dead and even if they didn’t, their rooms are at the back of the house. Tonight they were wired because of our plans tomorrow so it took them a while to go to sleep but now that they’re out, they’re out.”
I nodded, he released me with one arm to step to my side and pull me into his place.
At first sight, my breath caught.
Holy shit.
My house was a place to exist and crash.
Creed’s house was... not.
I stared.
It seemed half show home and half just plain home if you were relatively loaded and gave one serious shit about where you lived.
Man, Creed really must charge a fuckuva lot more than me.
I was stunned. Not much surprised me but this... this did. Hugely.
Creed told me he had his Expedition as well as a nondescript Ford sedan to do work in during jobs he needed to be invisible. He also told me he had a Harley, a speedboat he took to the lake with his kids and a three bedroom house on a hill.
Of all of this, I was excited about the speedboat and Harley. The speedboat said good times on the water that included such things as inner tubes, skis and Creed wearing nothing but swim trunks. Who wouldn’t like all that? A Harley elevated anyone’s badass status about seven thousand levels. Owning a Harley and looking and acting like Creed made him even more badass than Ron and Ron was a fucking Marine.
Creed did not tell me his “three bedroom house on a hill” was a showplace.
My eyes scanned as Creed moved us through.
To the left through an archway was a study. Handsome furniture with a modern bent, the space clearly used but organized, even tidy.
Straight ahead was open space and lots of it. It also screamed, “Make no mistake! You’re in the Southwest!”
A long, rustic, wooden, rectangular dining room table with eight chairs was just in from the front door and beyond the recessed study was an open plan kitchen with modern cabinets, shiny granite countertops and top-of-the-line appliances. The kitchen/dining room and living area was delineated by a red felt pool table.
Yes, a pool table. That was how vast the space was.
Past that was the living area with a big, comfy-looking sectional accompanied by a massive chair and ottoman and an enormous flat screen TV in an enormous wall unit. The floors were shining wood throughout except the kitchen was tile.
There were stunning prints with a southwest feel on the walls but none of them were stereotypical. They were unusual and exquisite. Art deco desert landscapes that Creed would tell me later were by Ed Mell. Whimsical portraits by L. Carter Holman. Colorful cacti in bloom by Diana Madaras.
The entirety of the space had a feel of rustic as well as modern mixed with a heavy hand of southwest. It was decorated in brick red, terracotta and cream with hints of turquoise, purple, golden yellow and sun burnt orange.
It was amazing.
Beyond the living space was the showstopper. Floor to ceiling windows with a view to a lit pool that looked more like a rocky grotto including a small waterfall. All of this was surrounded by a massive pool deck and handsome deck furniture. There were manicured, graveled in areas around the pool deck filled with palm trees, fruit trees and weird but attractive cacti. Since Creed’s house was on a hill, the pool’s backdrop beyond an adobe wall was the lights of north Phoenix.
The house was amazing.
The back patio and view were awesome.
In truth, the whole thing was. Well-appointed, well-decorated with personality and thoughtfulness, open, airy, clean and tidy but with a comfortable feel.
Therefore, like I mentioned, I was stunned.
The Creed I knew lived in the broken down house that he shared with his mother. A house that, when he grew older, he was constantly working on to keep the roof from leaking, the plumbing working and the space livable until we could take off on my eighteenth birthday finally to start our lives. The furniture was old, worn and in some cases, hand-me-down. Creed’s Dad had inherited the property from his Dad and had died before he’d been able to give his family better. Winona Creed was a mess who could barely take care of herself and didn’t bother taking care of her son or home. This included the fact she didn’t clean, as in ever.
These thoughts entering my head, harking back I remembered something I’d forgotten.
Creed did clean. He vacuumed, did the dishes and did the laundry. He hated that house and not just because it was ramshackle but because it didn’t smell good, didn’t look good and it was a pain in the ass to clean not only his own mess but that of a drunk of a mother who didn’t give a shit. Like me but for different reasons, he couldn’t wait to get out.
Still, even remembering that, it must be said I didn’t know what I expected of single Dad Creed but this definitely wasn’t it.
We were standing at the windows looking out at his view when Creed murmured, “Hot as an oven now, baby, but come September through to May, that right there is paradise.”
I looked up at him to see his eyes trained to the view. He must have felt my gaze because he tipped his down to me.
“What’s the stringy cactus?” I asked.
“Ocotillo. Orange flowers, twice a year. The desert in bloom, outside you and my kids, is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. You’re here in March, Sylvie, I’ll take you out. So pretty, you’ll forget to breathe.”
I held his eyes and forgot to breathe right then.
He liked it here, a lot. He’d found a home. He’d settled.
I forced myself to nod and looked back at the view before I turned out of his arm, took in all that lay behind me before looking back up at him and remarking, “You live in a showplace, Creed.”
“You grew up in a showplace,” he, for some reason, reminded me. “You grew up with that and your Dad proved your whole life he didn’t give one shit about you and in the end proved it beyond doubt, usin’ you to cover his ass. But I grew up in a pit with a Ma who proved daily she didn’t give a shit about anyone but herself. My kids don’t have to live with that. I left Chelle in a five bedroom house in a neighborhood in the west valley and she’s still there. Her man moved in with her. It isn’t like this, more family, less show. But it’s clean, new, nice, in a neighborhood filled with people who give a shit about their home, kids, friends and neighbors. What goes on behind closed doors could be somethin’ else but that’s the feel of the place. What my kids have with their Mom and here, though, is good and safe and it surrounds them with the knowledge that someone gives a shit.”
I stared up at him and said not a word.
He leaned down to me. “Way I see it, you escaped your traps with the way you live in Denver. This,” he motioned to our surroundings with an arm, “is me escapin’ mine. Bonus, I give good to my kids.”
Bonus, I give good to my kids.
God, my new badass Creed, who was a great Dad, who gave a shit and had a cool house and the ability to take out the trash without being asked, was awesome.
Therefore, I stated, “I love you, Tucker Creed,” and got to watch as he grinned.
Then he hooked a hand behind my neck, pulled me in and up and brushed his mouth to mine before lifting his head an inch, giving my neck a squeeze and asking, “Got no paneling or shag carpet and the kitchen is cleaned more than once every year, but you think you could be happy here?”
I ignored his teasing, my eyes slowly slid from side to side then back to his beautiful blue ones whereupon I answered on a shrug, “Don’t know. I might be able to make do.”
Creed burst out laughing but drowned the noise two seconds later by taking my mouth and laughing down my throat.
Then he showed me more of his house by taking my hand and guiding me to the master suite.
Like the rest of the house, it was awesome, except more, because it was all Creed.
Not to mention, it had a huge bed.
I twisted my neck and whispered, “Harder, baby. Faster.”
Creed had an arm wrapped around my chest at an angle so his hand was curved around my breast, thumb circling the tip. His other hand was between my legs, fingers toying with my clit. We were on our sides, his front was pressed against my back and his cock was sliding slow and gentle between my legs.
“Slow, Sylvie. Sweet,” he murmured, twisted his own neck, lifted his head and slid his tongue down my neck.
I shivered and tipped my ass further to get more of him.
“Like that,” he growled against my skin.
I did too. Oh yeah, I did too. All of it. Even the growl. Maybe especially the growl.
I focused hazily on the view of his pool and backyard through the floor to ceiling windows that made up one wall of his bedroom and I realized he was making love to me. Making love to me in his bed, his home, his city.
I loved it. I loved the feel of it. I loved that he was giving it to me and I loved why. He wanted me to want to join my life to his here and he wanted it badly. So he was trying to convince me and he was using a really good way to go about that.
So I was going to give it to him. All of it.
I took him, strained into his touch, arched into his strokes, gave him exactly what he wanted, taking everything he had to give in return.
He slid out, moved slightly away, rolled me to my back and then rolled over me. I spread my legs for him. He settled on me and glided right back in. My neck arched at the feel of having him back even though I only lost him for mere moments. I loved taking him inside, being connected, as close as we could get.
I felt his hands at my sides moving up and automatically lifted my arms. Creed liked to hold me down, he did it often and I had to say, I liked it too. It wasn’t the same as what I’d experienced before. He enjoyed lifting up, watching his cock take me, our bodies moving together, joining. He liked taking control and allowing me to do nothing but accept all he gave.
To be honest, I wished we could do it with mirrors so I could see what he could see. So I could watch the strong, vital, massive power of his body moving over and thrusting into my petite one.
It was already hot. Watching him hold me down while he fucked me, that would be smoking.
As expected, his cock moved inside me as his hands trailed up my sides, over my pits, over my arms then his fingers curled around my wrists and he lifted up to gaze down at our linked bodies.
God, I loved it when he watched.
I bent my knees, feet in the bed, tipping up my hips and he slid in deeper.
Yeah, I loved that too.
His eyes came to my face as he transferred my wrists to one hand. Still holding me down, his other hand slid down my arm, over to my neck and down my chest, between my breasts to my belly.
Nice. So fucking nice.
My breath escalated.
“Love you, baby,” I whispered.
I saw his eyes go soft, his strong and white teeth came out to bite his lower lip. I liked that look so much, I arched my back, pulled my knees back and pressed the insides of my thighs to his hips as he bent his head and took my mouth.
The second he did, he started powering in harder, deeper, faster.
Fantastic.
Beautiful.
Only Creed could give this to me.
Only Creed.
Creed stopped kissing me when our breathing grew heavy, we were panting, he was grunting and I was moaning. Our lips brushed, our breaths mingled, our hips collided and his lips slid down my cheek to my ear.
“I want you here. I want you in my home, my bed, my life,” he murmured, the smooth out of his voice, it was low and so rough with sex and emotion, it was abrasive, scoring through me.
“Baby –”
“I want your clothes in my closet. I wanna hear your voice in my house when you’re talkin’ on the phone. I want you sittin’ beside me when we’re watchin’ TV. I want shit you like in my fridge. I want your razors in my shower. I want my roof over your head. Your car in my garage. I want to give you what I should have been giving you for sixteen years. As good as you deserve. A showplace. A place where I can make you happy.”
God. He was killing me.
“Creed, let me –”
He didn’t let me finish. He pressed on, driving in, our bodies jolting with his thrusts, his voice harsh in my ear.
“Give me that, Sylvie. Give me that and, swear to God, I’ll give you everything.”
“I –”
His head came up, his cock drove deep and stayed planted and his eyes burned into mine.
“All I’ll ask. All I’ll ever ask. You give me that and you got a lifetime of nothin’ but take.”
“Give me my hands, baby,” I whispered and he released my wrists immediately. I moved them to frame his face, lifted up so I was close and kept whispering, “You can have that. You can have anything from me but only if I get to give as good as I get.”
He shook his head, moving my hands with it and grinding his cock into me. It felt so good my lips parted.
Creed spoke.
“All I want is you. You make my home yours, you’ll never have to give.”
“It doesn’t work that way, Creed.”
He pulled out, slammed in and his face jerked down toward mine so fast, I pressed my head into the pillow in an automatic response. I held my breath at the expression in his eyes even as I gasped it in deeper when his hand slid down my belly and his thumb pressed hard against my clit.
“I vowed to you I’d take care of you. I vowed it. I thought I was doin’ that when I left you. I wasn’t. I need this, Sylvie, and you gotta give it to me.”
“It’s not –”
He started moving again, powering fast and deep, his thumb circling my clit and my neck arched on a deep moan.
His lips went to my throat and my fingers slid into his hair. “You gotta give this to me,” he demanded, voice thick.
“Creed –”
He went faster, deeper, harder.
Oh God.
My fingers in his hair fisted.
“Baby –” I breathed, it was building and it was going to overwhelm me.
“Give that to me, Sylvie,” he ordered.
“Okay, yes,” I gasped. “You have me. You can have anything.”
“Fuck yeah,” he grunted, his thumb pressing harder, his hips driving faster, his mouth took mine. He shoved his free arm under me, wrapped it around my hips, slammed me down as he powered up and I moaned my orgasm down his throat.
Two minutes later, he groaned his down mine.
He took a few moments to recover then rolled us, still connected, so I was on top and he was on his back.
I lifted my head to look down at him before I informed him, “You know, the rulebook states anything agreed through sexual manipulation is thrown out after the act.”
I saw the white flash of his smile before one of his arms snaked around my waist and got tight while his other hand slid into my hair and pulled my face closer to his whereupon he informed me, “Yeah, if you’re makin’ love with a normal guy. If you’re doin’ it with a badass, it’s a totally different rulebook.”
I had to admit, this was true.
“I’m a badass too,” I reminded him.
“You are,” he agreed readily. Something, by the way, I truly believed that he believed. Something, by the way, I totally loved about him. “So, in future, baby, you got that option open to you.”
Good to know as well as something to look forward to when it was my turn to coerce something out of him.
“Right then,” I tipped my head to the side, “maybe you’ll explain exactly what I agreed to.”
His arm around me got tighter, his fingers flexed against my scalp and the white of his smile faded from his face.
“You know, Sylvie,” he whispered.
He was right. I knew. I knew, back in the day, he was acutely aware that I had an in-ground pool, a stable full of horses, a fancy car, a huge house, a housekeeper, all provided to me by my piece of shit Daddy and if I hooked my star to his, at first, he couldn’t give me any of that.
I didn’t care. He was right earlier. That was a trap from which I would move, after he left, to a prison.
But Creed was a man, all man, even back then and he didn’t see it that way. Not then and obviously not now. He never wanted me to feel loss. He never wanted me to have any reason to regret choosing him and no matter how much I talked, how hard I tried to convince him I didn’t need any of that shit, he didn’t believe it. I was young and he was worried following my heart was blinding me to reasonable life considerations an older person would take into account.
He was wrong then.
He was wrong now.
“You know, I’m a different Sylvie,” I stated quietly.
“I know, baby.”
“I can take care of myself.”
“I know that too.”
Okay, now I was confused.
“Then… what?”
“My house. My furniture. My housecleaner, pool guy, gardener. Your body in my bed,” he replied.
I didn’t get it.
“What?”
“I take care of you,” he answered. “I provide for you.”
Uh-oh.
My body stiffened over his.
“Creed –”
“You work. You earn. You enjoy yourself. You do what you like. You buy me shit if you want. But I provide, Sylvie.”
“That’s crazy,” I told him.
“It’s what you just agreed,” he told me.
“Okay, but it’s crazy.”
“It isn’t.”
“It is,” I shot back. “I’m not seventeen and depending on you, Creed.”
“Right,” his voice was low and leaning toward angry impatience, “I get you. I get we lost that time. I get you’re not seventeen anymore and you can take care of yourself. And I get that maybe to you it’s crazy but what you need to get is it’s what I fuckin’ need.”
He meant that. He needed it.
Oh God, they messed him up. They messed us up. They fucked everything up even beyond what we already knew.
My voice was softer and my body relaxed into his, my hand coming up to wrap around the side of his neck when I said, “That was a long time ago, babe. I’ve lived. I’ve changed. You have, too. We’re doing this, going forward in life together. I get what you’re saying but we’re both different and we’re different in good ways. We should embrace that.”
“You’re giving up Charlene, the kids, your partner’s family and Knight to be here with me. That’s your part. I take care of the rest.”
“Please don’t do that.”
I said it in a rush, my voice suddenly edged with an anguish I felt coming from deep in my gut, tearing through me, leaving tatters in its wake and I felt Creed’s big body still under mine.
I went on, “My Dad did that to you. My Dad took those years away from us. Yeah, it’s gonna suck, giving up my life in Denver but it’s you. It’s always been you. I’d walk the Sahara to get to you. I’m not lovestruck and acting stupid. I know it’s gonna be hard giving up my life in Denver but I don’t have kids. I don’t live in a house like this. I don’t have roots. I have relationships and if relationships are good, it doesn’t matter where you are in the world, they always stay strong.”
He didn’t listen to the last part and this would be clear when he stated, “You carry no guilt for what those motherfuckers did to me.”
“I know, kind of,” I semi-agreed. “But do you see where I’m coming from?”
Creed rolled, disengaging us, so I was on my back and his body was pressed into my side and partially over me.
“No kind of,” he growled. “That was all Bissenette, what he did to you and what he did to me. These nightmares you’re havin’, don’t let them take hold. You bear no responsibility for what happened to me.”
I felt my body begin to shake and my voice was fragile and so totally not me it felt like it came from some other me when I reminded him, “You wanted to leave that night. I made you –”
His big hand covered my mouth and his head dipped so he was all I could see. “He and his assholes tortured me. He sold you, his fuckin’ daughter, to pay off a goddamned debt for fuckin’ blow. Even if you weren’t his daughter, Sylvie, that… shit… is… whacked. Who does that?” he asked and he didn’t wait for an answer even though he pulled his hand from my mouth and wrapped it around my jaw. “No one but people who are serious as shit fucked in the head. You could have no fuckin’ clue when you left me that night what would happen to us the next fuckin’ day. Where we were, what we knew, you made the right decision, Sylvie. You were a good person, a good daughter, tryin’ to do right and you made the right decision. It was him, baby. All fuckin’ him. Do not take that shit on. You do, it’ll fuck with you forever.”
I stared in his eyes and I did this a long time. Long enough for the shakes to subside and I took in a deep breath.
“Okay,” I whispered.
His body relaxed at my side. “Okay.”
“So,” I started to recap, “I give you Phoenix and living in an oven for a few months out of the year. You give me a fab pad with a pool but the rest, can we agree to wing it? See how it goes.”
He waited a beat before he muttered, “I can live with that.”
I grinned at him and muttered back, “Good.”
I saw his return grin before he bent his neck and touched his mouth to mine.
He lifted his head and whispered, “Gotta get rid of this condom, baby. Be back.”
I nodded against the pillows. He bent his neck again to touch his lips to my throat before he started to roll off the bed.
But he stopped and looked back at me.
“Just to say,” he began, “this house and all it is, all that’s in it, it’s about me, it’s about givin’ good to my kids. Absolutely. But make no mistake, Sylvie, no way in the back of my head while I was buildin’ all this, buildin’ my life, I didn’t think I wished I was giving it to you.”
After he dropped that bomb, he finished rolling away from me.
I had no retort, mostly because I’d stopped breathing.
I took in a deep breath in order to jumpstart my oxygen intake and rolled three times to the other side of his massive bed. I swung my hips around, put my feet to the floor and got out, reaching down. I pulled on my panties and cami and wandered to the windows.
Seriously, his view was fucking fantastic.
I felt him enter the room, heard his bare feet padding on the floor then I felt his arms wrap around me from behind.
I relaxed into him.
Then I asked what I’d wanted to ask since I got there.
“How’d it go with Chelle and the kids?”
His body grew tight for a second, as did his arms before he sighed and relaxed.
I did not take this as a good sign.
“Head’s up, Kara is gonna like you, probably rabidly. She’s determined to like you. She’s thrilled past anything healthy I got a woman in my life.” This was surprising news so I turned in his arms while he was still talking, curled mine around him and looked up at him as his chin dipped so he could look at me. “Mostly, this is to stick it to her mother. I do not get what’s goin’ down between those two but I figure what she fakes for you in order to hurt her Mom will eventually become genuine and not a way to fuck with Chelle. It’s just that, now, that’s where she’s at.”
“Oh… kay,” I agreed slowly, not getting this either. Then again, my stepmonster mostly ignored me and I returned the favor. We existed in the same house. She gave an effort that was all show when she thought she’d get something from my father in return. Usually, even when I was really young, she went her way and I went mine.
My Mom called her a scheming, greedy gold digger which was what she was seeing as she was Daddy’s secretary before he divorced my mother to make her his wife. And I liked my Mom as best I could, seeing as my Dad devoted his life to all things fucked up including doing everything within his formidable power to make my mother’s life miserable and that included keeping me away from her. He did this until she gave up the fight and took off to California. Before that, no way I’d use the stepmonster to screw with precious time with my Mom. No way in hell.
But, whatever. Kara Creed was not me. I was just going to have to deal.
“Brand’s Brand,” he went on, taking me from my thoughts. “He likes everyone. His response to me tellin’ them about you was, ’Awesome cool, Dad’.” Creed said the last with a smile and kept talking. “He likes people. He’s social. Talkative. Even when he was a baby, he met people’s eyes and smiled at them. Just like my Dad. Dad could and did talk to anybody. He never went anywhere where he didn’t have a friend, mostly because he made friends if there wasn’t one there already. Brand’s just like that.”
That sounded better so I gave him a smile and a squeeze.
His expression grew thoughtful and his gaze drifted over my head as he murmured, “Chelle’s happy for me.”
I blinked up at him. “Say again?”
He looked down at me. “She didn’t do cartwheels but yeah, you heard me. She was happy.”
“You’re kidding,” I whispered, not having a good feeling about this.
“Baby, your name is inked on my back and she loves me no matter I dicked her over. You don’t know her, we haven’t gotten deep about her but I told you she’s a good woman. When I say that I mean, she’s a really fuckin’ good woman. Funny, loving, smart, sweet. In a fucked up drunken speech, I gave it all to her. She knows about the lake, the pier, the necklaces, the promises, all our history. You’re inked on my skin. I named her kids your names. That shit, our shit, our history, our connection was and is extreme. She gets that better than anyone but you and me and she loves me. She can’t have me but she can be happy that I have what I need.”
Okay, he was a man so he didn’t get this shit but women so did not work that way.
Ever.
“Okay,” I said but even I could hear I was full of shit.
His arms gave me a squeeze and his face dropped closer to mine. “You’ll meet her and you’ll see. She is not like other women. She’s just Chelle.”
“Mm-hmm,” I mumbled and still sounded unconvincing.
He studied me then his mouth curled before he muttered, “Nothin’ to do but wait and let you experience it yourself.”
Something not to look forward to. Chelle Whatever-her-name-was-now was so not happy Creed had found me.
Shit.
I decided not to make any noise at all since even my mumbles were lame.
Creed gave me a squeeze as he said quietly, “Kids sleep late but told them we were going to Wet ‘n’ Wild tomorrow so they got wound up. That means tomorrow is a Disneyland day where they’ll be up early, rarin’ to go. We gotta hit the sack so we can get up earlier than them, get you back to the hotel then you can come back”
“Right,” I whispered and started to move away but his arms got tight again and stayed that way so I looked back up at him.
“This shit, hotel, us separated, you comin’ in under the radar, out early, thanks for doin’ that for my kids, baby,” he said quietly and I tipped my head, pressed deep and held on tight right back.
“Anything, Creed.”
I meant it.
Creed knew it.
I knew this because his face changed. His head moved. His mouth took mine and he kissed me deep and sweet.
After he lifted his head, he let me go but took my hand and moved us to the bed where we both moved in then he tucked me close.
“Love you, Sylvie,” he muttered into the top of my hair.
“Love you back, Creed,” I muttered to the skin over his collarbone.
His arms gave me another squeeze and, luckily, shortly after, tucked close to Creed, I fell into a dreamless sleep.
Creed
Creed’s eyes opened and he saw the dawning sun but felt Sylvie in his arms, in his bed, in his home.
He pulled in a deep breath, his chest expanding, pressing into his woman’s soft skin, soft body and he let that cut through him, leaving beauty in its wake.
Taking long moments of quiet, alone in the weak light of dawn, holding his Sylvie, finally, his eyes moved to the alarm clock on his nightstand.
Then he shifted carefully, moving slightly away to stare down at her. Her thick, long hair a tangle on his pillow, her profile relaxed in sleep.
Creed watched her.
Since having her back, this was not the first time he’d done this. In fact, he did it every day.
Every single day.
Because lying beside a still asleep Sylvie, he had her back. His little, sweet, funny, loving Sylvie who had no idea how beautiful she was. His Sylvie who had hope and love written all over her face. There she was, asleep right beside him. Those sharp edges sheathed, she was all soft, all beauty, all the memory of his Sylvie.
She told him that the old Sylvie was gone. He didn’t tell her she was wrong and he’d never tell her. He had the new Sylvie and, in these moments before her eyes opened and the day started, he had the old one too.
And down the hall, his kids slept in his house on a hill far away from fucking Kentucky and the memories buried there.
Therefore, Creed had it all.
Everything.
He lifted a hand to cup her cheek then slid her hair away from her face. He watched her features shift, her eyes flutter. She moved to her back, he saw the green gemstone twinkle at her neck and he felt the beauty of that in his gut.
“Is it time to get up already?” she asked, her voice soft and husky with sleep.
Creed shifted his fingers through her hair, pulling it down her chest then he curved his hand around her ribs under her breast as he nodded.
“Damn,” she muttered, arching her back in a little stretch.
He glided his hand up between her breasts, up her chest to the chain at her neck where he stopped and twisted it around his forefinger.
“You did it again,” he murmured and she blinked.
“Did what?” she asked.
“Wakin’ up beside me, in my bed, in my house, you did it again.” When her brows drew together he finished, “My Sylvie, the dreamweaver, makin’ dreams come true.”
Her face went soft, hope and happiness flashed in her eyes and there he had it again. In those moments, he had her back. His Sylvie, both of them, right there in his bed.
Yes, he had it all.
Everything.
Or he would when he had her mouth.
So he went about taking it, dipping his head even as he tugged gently on the chain to pull her to him.
Sylvie lifted up and met him halfway and there it was.
Tucker Creed had everything.
Absolutely everything.
Fucking finally.
Sylvie
“Shit, I’m nervous,” I whispered.
It was early. I was standing at the front door in Creed’s arms and he’d just finished kissing me a kind of good-bye, the kind of part being that I was returning in less than two hours.
“Don’t be,” he whispered back.
“Kids like me,” I kept whispering. “But what if they’re, like, the only two kids I’ve ever met who think I’m a loser?”
Creed grinned and his arms gave me a squeeze. “They’ll love you, Sylvie. Honest to God. Don’t worry.”
Being back in Creed’s arms always felt good. It made me feel safe in a way I hadn’t since I lost him.
It just wasn’t working then.
“Creed –”
He suddenly let me go and his hands came up to cup either side of my head and his face, already close, came to a breath away.
“My kids are not dumb,” he announced and I stared into his eyes.
“I didn’t say they were.” You guessed it. I was still whispering.
“Baby, they’ve seen my tat.”
I pulled in breath.
He kept talking.
“It was not lost on them I was fakin’ it with their Mom and not just because we got divorced. Kids sense that shit. Trust me. It was not lost on them that things didn’t get a whole lot better for me when she and I were done and it will not be lost on them that you got the name inked on my skin and I’m finally fuckin’ happy. One day, when they’re older, when they know you better, when they can deal with the part of the story we’ll share with them, we’ll share it with them. They’ll get it and be happy for both of us. That’s what love is, Sylvie. That’s family. I didn’t know it because I didn’t grow up with it. You didn’t either. But havin’ my kids, I get it. The change might take some gettin’ used to and I’m not sayin’ the road won’t turn rocky along the way. I just know my kids love me and they’ll see me happy, so they’ll love you at the very least for makin’ me happy.”
Right, that made me feel better.
“Okay,” I agreed softly.
Creed’s eyes roamed my face then his hands slid down to either side of my neck before he said softly back, “Can’t wait to give you that.”
“Give me what?”
“A family.”
My heart lurched and it didn’t feel bad. Not even a little bit.
He kept speaking.
“Just you wait, baby. Didn’t live free and easy. Didn’t feel totally alive. Not without you. But I got my kids and I had somethin’ to live for, work for, keep goin’ for.” His thumbs moved out and stroked my jaws before his voice went rough to say, “Now, I got it all.”
Jeez, he was killing me.
“Shut up or you’ll make me cry like a girl and I never cry like a girl except when I find out my Dad was more of an asshole than I already knew him to be and the man I loved since I was six was tortured at his hands. Furthermore, crying makes me cranky. I don’t need to be made cranky three hours before meeting your kids. Get me?”
He grinned and muttered, “Got you.”
“Good,” I muttered back.
He leaned in, pulling my head down to kiss the hair at the top before he moved back.
“Go, baby.”
“Right, Creed.”
I got up on my toes to brush my mouth to his. He let me go. I let him go. He opened the door and I hitched the strap of my bag up on my shoulder before I headed out into the furnace.
God. It wasn’t even eight and it already had to be a hundred degrees.
I looked back over my shoulder as I walked down his walk and the heat assaulted me.
Creed was watching me move and Creed was smiling.
Suddenly, I didn’t feel the heat.
Instead, I lifted an arm to give him a finger flick before I jogged to the car, feeling my long hair swaying over the skin of my shoulders and back.
I got in my rental and drove away to take a shower and prepare to meet Creed’s kids and get wet at a water park in extreme heat.
And as I drove away, Creed stood in his open door, letting out the air conditioning and he kept watching me.
All the while, still smiling.