I watch her retreat into the bathroom and wait to hear the water start. I snatch up my phone and walk down the hallway completely out of her earshot.
“Cain. Is everything all right?” asks Cecily, sounding out of breath on the other end.
“Everything’s great. I need a favor.”
I hear the smile in her voice.
“Of course.”
“Well...” I scratch the back of my neck. “I never bought Calla a wedding ring. I have no clue what the hell to do. I thought maybe you might be able to help me, maybe get someone to come to Salvatore’s house so we could look at some.”
I hesitate, her silence making me nervous.
“Hello. You still there?”
She clears her throat before speaking.
“Well, I would love to help, but I’d like to show you something first, if you don’t mind.”
“Sure,” I say, more out of confusion than anything else.
She must catch it in my tone. She knocks me back when she speaks again.
“I have my mother’s wedding rings. They’re stunning. I think Calla would love them.”
I’m in shock. Family means everything to all of us. She would love to have those rings. Hell, I would love to put them on her finger.
“That’s perfect. Those would mean the world to her.”
“I think so, too,” she agrees. “I’ll get them out of the safe. We can get them sized and cleaned up.”
A deep hole has just been filled in my heart. There are a few more demons I’ve been holding back from her, ones that are intimate, and that up until now, I have kept to myself. It’s time to finally let go of my past. But first, I have to go make sure my girl is okay.
“I can’t believe how fast this fills up,” Calla says when I help her into the tub and sink down behind her. My lips go straight to her neck, my arms circling her waist.
“Nothing but the best for you.”
I nuzzle into her neck. She has her hair piled on top of her head, her neck exposed. I love that spot on her neck just as much as she does.
She slumps down further into the water. My lips leave her neck, giving me the perfect opportunity to answer the question about my tattoo I’ve been avoiding.
“The other day you asked me about my tattoo. Do you remember?”
“Yes, and you evaded it very smoothly,” she remarks.
I hold back my laugh. I should have known she wasn’t fooled.
“You may think I’m crazy for getting it, but my reasons are my own. You and I have been with others...”
I hate the fact we both have. There isn’t a damn thing I can do about it, so I continue on.
“...but no one has ever seen that tattoo but the person who put it on me, myself, and now you.”
She goes to speak, but I press down on her stomach and she halts.
“Listen. Not only has my heart belonged to you since the first day I saw you, my entire being has, including my dick. What you and I had back then meant more to me than anything. I never had any type of real, honest love until I met you. I grew up with a father who I know loved me in his own way, but who lied and deceived me my entire life. I know my mom loved me before she died, but I was so young, I barely remember her. We were young. We fell in love. That love never once died for me. The whole time you were gone was spent cleaning up the mess my father made of this place. I turned it into something I wanted. Something as honest as possible, given that everything I did behind the scenes was illegal as hell.
“But you... I needed to have a part of you with me. And well, that’s where I decided to put it. It was either there or over my heart. It felt too sacred for me to put it over my heart. I put it the one place I always wanted you to be. And I don’t mean that in a dirty way. It’s just that, every time we made love back then, it meant the world to me.”
I wait while she absorbs what I just told her, wondering if she thinks I’m fucking crazy. Finally she sits up, straddling my lap. Tears stream silently down her face, a look of love and admiration in her eyes. I let out the breath I was holding. Her tiny hands cradle my face.
“That’s the most beautiful thing I have ever heard,” she whispers.
“You think so, huh?”
“I know so,” she affirms, leaning down to brush her lips over mine.
I kiss her longingly.
“One more thing and then I’m done. No more secrets.”
“These lips have never touched another woman. Only yours.”
Her shocked expression leaves me tense.
“You mean to tell me you’ve never kissed anyone? How? I mean—”
I place a finger over her mouth.
“No one. I can’t take back the things I’ve done. Everything I did, I did to protect you. Kissing is an intimate act, and those other women meant nothing to me. I meant nothing to them. But you? I would do anything for you. There isn’t another person on this earth who I want to kiss, or let my lips touch theirs, or let my tongue touch any part of their body. No one.”
“Oh, God, baby. I… I don’t know what to say.”
Tears keep rolling down her face. I hate making her cry.
“Don’t say anything. Except promise me you will never leave me again. No matter what happens. No matter how tough it gets, or what life throws at us. Just don’t fucking leave me, all right?”
“Never. I get it now. All of it. I’m coming to terms with it all. I’ve accepted it all. My family. You. Everything!”
She grins, then smiles. It spreads wide across her face.
“Now kiss me. It seems those lips have been deprived for way too long.”
I have no problem with that at all.
Chapter Eighteen
Calla
“Really, Dad? A toy hauler?”
I laugh at my dad when he, my mom, and Manny climb out of his truck.
“These fuckwads want to bring their bikes. And between you and your mother and all of your clothes, you would think we were moving there, for Christ’s sake,” he grumbles jokingly as he climbs up the steps and swoops me up into his arms.
“You look so happy. I do believe we have our baby girl back, Cecily. Who would have thought that this dickhead over here was the one who would bring my girl happiness?”
“Fuck you too, old man,” Cain retorts from behind us.
“You’re not my type, asshole.”
Dad sets me down, lifts one of the suitcases, and retreats to the back of the hauler.
“This is going to be a long ride. Good thing I brought my computer with all those Nicholas Sparks movies we love to watch,” Mom says, winking at me. We are both suckers for those movies.
The drive seems to take forever, but when I see the New York City skyline all lit up the closer we get, I exclaim in excitement.
“Holy shit!”
Dad catches my attention in the rearview mirror.
“It’s something else, isn’t it?”
“It’s remarkable. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
Salvatore lives on Long Island, right on the water. I crane my neck when we cross over the bridge only to head east away from the city.
I haven’t been deprived by any means; my parents and I traveled everywhere when I was growing up. Now that I know what my dad truly does, I almost burst out laughing, remembering all those times we went to Disney World.
He never once complained about having to go on any of those rides with me. Always my protector. Always holding my hand, showing me his love until I grew into a teenager. Even then he would always kiss me goodnight whenever he was home, or if I was already in bed before he got home, he always looked in on me.
Now as I watch him steer us through the traffic with ease, I can honestly say that I love my dad even more. Not at all because of the things he does, but simply because he’s my father, the man who is still protecting me to this day.
His phone rings. He’s short with whoever is on the other line. I’m assuming it’s a job by the way his eyes flicker back and forth between the road and me, where I sit between Cain and Manny, who are both busy on their computers.