Given (Give &Take) (7 page)

T
ough love. That was what Rachael was giving me. Did I blame her? Hell, not really. Everything she said was true. We’d fought this entire trip. I was taking my stress and all the pressure I put on myself to be the father I always should have been out on her.

It wasn’t fair.

I turned to her when we reached the motorcycle. “Fine. One day. Then we leave.” It was all the consolation I was able to muster at the moment. The ride back would clear my mind—I hoped. We had to get past this somehow.

She held me tight, her thighs squeezing me as firmly as her arms. I wished we had helmets. I was never afraid of getting hurt before her. Before MJ and Nadia. Nobody would’ve cared anyway if I had. But it was different now. Rachael would care. No matter our differences, she loved me and I loved her. She’d be devastated without me, and I wouldn’t want to live a second of my life without her.

I accelerated across the bottom of the vineyard, making my way to the other side of the Renault property. Was I really that controlling? I’d never thought I was, but considering
how Rachael and I started and everything she’d pointed out to me today, the proof was right there—I was kind of a dictator. Here all along I thought the things I did were helping the people I cared about. But I could see now how not giving them a choice to determine their own fate was taking charge of their lives and I had no right to do that.

I had to let go. Not completely, but enough to give them room to make mistakes—or what I believed were mistakes. Maybe they didn’t consider them mistakes.

God, I needed a therapist.

Or maybe just the love of a good woman—the one behind me squeezing me to death.

If anyone could knock some sense into me, it was Rachael. I chuckled to myself, letting the wind and sun and amazing landscape around us soak into my brain and drown what I couldn’t control.

One more day. If Nadia wanted to come to Turtle Tear, she would, just like Rachael had said.

I pulled up to the back patio at the inn and turned off the bike. Mama and Paul were sitting at the picnic table drinking lemonade. Papa was smoking under a tree at the corner of the house, watching. I nodded to him. “Great bike.”

Papa nodded and blew out a puff of smoke.

Rachael got off and shook out her legs. “Lots of vibration.”

I winked at her, knowing she’d get the innuendo I took from her words. She smirked.

I strode over and sat down next to Paul. “How much would your father sell it for?”

Mama’s hands shot into the air.
“Non, non,”
she said, a big smile on her face. “A gift.
Pour vos fiançailles.
Papa insists.”

Rachael’s eyes went wide across the table. This was way too generous to accept. A vintage Harley from strangers? I shook my head, making eye contact with the old man under the tree. “I appreciate the gesture, but I can’t accept it as a gift. I’d be happy to pay you for it, though.”

Mama began speaking to Papa in French, gesturing toward me. The man waved a hand and took his pipe from his mouth to utter,
“Je ne le veux pas.”

“He says he doesn’t want it,” Paul said.

“Take it!” Mama said, flinging her open palm out toward the bike, smiling and nodding.

Rachael shrugged. Her lips quirked at the ends as if to say, why not? I wasn’t comfortable with it, but had an idea of how I’d repay Mr. Renault in the future. “Okay. Thank you. It’s a wonderful gift.” I reached across the table and squeezed Mama’s hand. She patted mine and Paul smacked me on the back.

The past few days I had been thrown out of my element. Not that I wasn’t used to traveling to different countries and meeting new people, but not having any idea where to be or what to do next made me as unsteady as walking a tightrope. A tightrope with no net. I didn’t like not being able to formulate a plan, even a half-assed one, that would get me the result I wanted. Letting go of control
was the foreign element to this journey and maybe that was what fate had in store for me all along.

My one day was almost up. We’d gotten up early and ridden the motorcycle into the nearby village. I’d sent a text message to Nadia’s number telling her to meet us at the inn if she could, and that we would be at the airport departing at 10 p.m., the latest flight I could book. I hadn’t heard back.

“This looks like a picture,” Rachael said, admiring the baskets full of apples, pears, and figs lined up for sale on a farmer’s cart. “It’s so quaint, like something out of the past. I didn’t think places like this existed anymore.”

“I know.” I strolled over to the basket of fall apples and picked one up. “The place time forgot.”

The narrow cobblestone street led to a white, steepled church. Tall, brick buildings loomed over them with windows shuttered from the late-day sun. A bird was singing somewhere out of sight, its soprano voice floating in and out on the breeze.

I hadn’t been so content in months. With the decision about Nadia made and executed, I could just exist. Here. Now. And enjoy the time I had with my beautiful fiancée.

I pointed to the church. “Want to go in and get hitched?”

She laughed. “Get hitched? Only if we can tie cans to the back of the Harley on our way back to the inn.”

“Done.” I scooped her up in my arms and started down the street. Her peals of laughter were contagious, and soon
I was lost to the swell of happiness in my chest, letting it out loudly.

“Put me down!” she said, and smacked her lips against mine in a hard, wet kiss.

“Oh, no. When I proposed, you said you’d marry me in a second if you could. So what’s wrong with right now?” I spun her around in a circle, making her laugh again. Her hair flew out behind her, the light brown, caramel-colored strands catching the sun. She was so beautiful, sometimes I couldn’t believe she was really mine.

“Nobody’s here with us! My mom and Aunt Jan would flip out if I came back from France married. I haven’t even called to tell them I’m engaged yet!”

I stopped suddenly and gave her a fake glare. “Why not? Planning on changing your mind?”

“Never!” She grabbed my face between her hands and kissed me again. Her lips were cool and she smelled like crisp leaves and sweet lip balm. The way her hands held me was gentle yet possessive, her touch promising the same as her words to never let me go.

I eased her feet back onto the ground and squeezed her tight. “Fine. I’ll wait. But not for long.” I tucked her hair behind her ear. “Have you been thinking of a date?”

She nodded with a far-off, dreamy look in her eyes. I wished I could see the image in her mind. “The third Saturday in November. Right around Thanksgiving.”

“That’s perfect, because I’m so thankful for you.” I ran my thumbs across her eyebrows.

“Do you think MJ would mind if we had it at the Weston Plantation?”

This took me by surprise. “You don’t want it at Turtle Tear?”

“I’d love it at Turtle Tear. But I don’t think there’s enough room for everyone and there are no other hotels accessible to the island. I figured our guest list would be around four hundred with all of your business associates and their guests.”

“That’s too big.” There was no way I wanted to turn our special day into some kind of circus.

She rested her palms on my shoulders. “Everyone’s going to want to know who finally got you to settle down and get married, Mr. Rocha, and I intend to make sure they know.”

I chuckled, loving her feisty nature. “I’ll surrender to your every whim on this, Ms. DeSalvo, just know that I don’t need any of the fanfare, only you saying ‘I do.’ ”

Rachael sighed. “Turtle Tear would be nice, but I feel like a big celebration will be expected and we’d disappoint people.”

Never one to care what anyone else thought, I wished for only one day she could put everyone aside and have the wedding she wanted. I’d have to work on her. There was a little time before all the preparations started. At least a
few
days.

I allowed myself a mental eye roll knowing the minute she stepped foot back on Turtle Tear, she’d fall into full
wedding planning mode and I’d be stuck in the midst of it with no Beck. “Hey,” I said, suddenly reminded, “do you want Beck to play his cello for the ceremony?”

“Of course!” She took me by the hand and started strolling down the little road. “I never thought I’d say it. He was so rusty playing that thing, but he seems to be right back to professional level. Not that I’m any judge of what a professional sounds like, but to my ears he qualifies.” She grinned up at me. “Do you think he’ll really go back to the orchestra?”

The thought of Beck in a tux playing classical music on a stage with an audience was crazy, but I could picture it. He’d played for the wedding Rachael had hosted on Turtle Tear—the hotel’s first and so far only event—and nailed it. “Beck’s one of those people who is comfortable doing anything. If he could transition from the orchestra to construction foreman, he can go back. I hope he does.” Quickly, I added, “If he wants to.”

The sun was setting, casting long shadows over a low brick wall that lined the right side of the road. The scent of meat roasting wafted out of a house on our left. My stomach growled. “We better head back, pack up, and get dinner before we need to be at the airport.”

Reluctantly, Rachael stopped walking and glanced around, soaking in her last glimpse of the perfect French village tucked in between sprawling green hills. “Can we come back here sometime?”

I threaded our fingers together and kissed her hand. “As much as you want.”

Her hopeful question spurred an idea that had been forming in my mind of the perfect wedding gift. Looking down at her, I knew I’d never deny her anything. Just the opposite. I would always jump through hoops, cross mountains, swim seas to give her everything she wanted and needed. I’d never known love like this before Rachael, and the fullness I felt in my chest made me want to climb up to the church steeple at the end of the road and yell my love for her at the top of my lungs for the entire world to hear.

A
s crazy as it seemed, I couldn’t wait to have the motorcycle at Turtle Tear. The day spent riding it to and from the village had me changing my mind about it, and the thought of riding it on dirt paths was a lot better than the thought of riding it at seventy miles an hour on pavement with cars, trucks, and semis whizzing past.

It started to drizzle as we ate dinner at the inn with the doors to the patio open. A chilly breeze blew in, bringing the freshness of wet grass and damp leaves to the table where we sat with Mama, Papa, and Paul.

I set my fork down, unable to eat one bite more of the delectable rosemary chicken on my plate. I wiped my mouth with my linen napkin and committed the people around me, the room, the sounds, every single thing to memory. The old inn and its owners had been the best part of our trip. I shouldn’t find it surprising that the five-star hotel in Paris, the most romantic city on earth, had been where we’d done nothing but argue. The Renaults’ inn was much more our style and pace of life. Like home. I’d miss this place.

After dinner, Merrick and I climbed the stairs to our room, stuffed with food and heavy-footed. We only had a little over an hour before we needed to be at the airport. I realized Merrick hadn’t checked his phone since earlier in the afternoon. Maybe he’d come to the inevitable conclusion that Nadia wasn’t really going to come to Turtle Tear. She wasn’t planning on leaving Enzo and her mother.

It felt like being on the cusp of a revolution, like the eve before being released from prison. We would be back home after two irritatingly long plane rides and our lives would finally be back to normal. Merrick would have given his best attempt at being a father to Nadia and he’d be able to rectify his desire to make up for the past and let it go. Then we’d get married.

Stepping inside our room, I closed my eyes for a moment, savoring the thought of normalcy within my reach. I took a deep breath and smiled as I opened my eyes to find Merrick watching me. “What?” I asked.

“Something’s going on inside that head of yours.” He reached up and tapped my forehead.

“Just can’t wait to get home. Back on track. You know?”

His face flinched for only a moment. “Have we been off track being here?”

Oh no, I wouldn’t start this with him again. “No. Not off track. Being here has been… well, almost magical. This inn has something very special about it, but I’m anxious to be back home.”

His expression eased. “Me, too. I don’t mind traveling,
but I’ve done my share of it over the years. I’d rather sleep in our own bed.” He ran the back of his hand down the side of my breast. “And not sleep in our own bed.”

I draped my forearms over his shoulders and tipped my head back, inviting him to kiss me. He dipped his head, bringing his lips to mine, whisper close. I kissed his bottom lip, then his top before closing my mouth over his and pressing myself against him.

My tongue sought his. He tasted like the sweet tang of the apple cider we’d drunk with dinner. “I want to take a shower before we get on the plane. Join me?” I asked.

In answer, Merrick gripped the hem of my shirt and lifted it over my head. We undressed each other quickly, shedding clothes on the way to the bathroom. “Do you think you’ll always want me this much?” he asked as the water ran, getting warmer by the second. He kissed my neck and rubbed his thumbs over my hardened nipples as steam began to drift out of the shower.

“I can’t imagine how I couldn’t.” My body responded to him so eagerly—his touch, his voice, hell, just the sight of him.

We stepped inside the shower. Behind me, Merrick ran his fingertips down my slick stomach. His hands slid between my thighs, pushing them apart. His cock was hard and rigid pressing against my back. I reached behind me and grasped him in both hands as he spread my lower lips apart.

The slow, rhythmic slide of his wet fingertips back and forth and in circles was more than I could bear. He bowed his head, leaning his forehead against my crown as
I stroked him. We thrust and rocked together, panting and lost to the building ache. Throbbing and swollen with need, Merrick dipped a finger inside me. I grasped his hand, not letting him pull it out. A second finger joined the first, his other hand squeezing and pinching my nipples.

I became a woman consumed with need of this release. Desperate for the mind-numbing explosion I felt nearing the brink. With a fast push and pull, in and out, his fingers delved and pressed into me. I worked his length harder, matching his pace. Writhing against him, I felt the rush coming on and arched my back, bracing one hand against the tile wall. “Oh God.” Every nerve ending sparked. I clenched my teeth. Then it hit. My body jerked, my vision blurred, I gasped for breath. Merrick was relentless, milking every last pulse from me, holding me against him while he kept me coming with deft fingers.

A second wave reared its head. “Don’t stop… oh God!” I cried out as it hit me fast and hard, buckling my knees. Merrick held me up, slowing his pace until I was spent, only then freeing his fingers from inside me.

He turned me in his arms and kissed me. Breathless, I kissed him back, sliding my lips down his neck, over his collarbone, licking his stiff nipples. His cock stood tall and hard, in need of attention. I loved giving it attention.

Dropping to my knees, I took him in hand and looked up into his deep, dark, lust-hooded eyes. Making sure he watched my every move, I nuzzled his tip with my nose before running my tongue around it. He inhaled sharply,
leaning toward me and pressing his hands against the wall in front of him. I nibbled his hip, teasing, testing his patience. He groaned. Smiling up at him, I brought my mouth to his cock again and slid my pursed lips down the underside, quickly licking his length all the way back up to the tip.

“Do you want me to suck you?” I asked coyly. My face and chest heated.

He grinned and chuckled, but it turned into a choke as I took him in my mouth. He barely moved. Our eyes stayed locked. I knew he was fighting the urge to thrust into me, determined to let me control his release. I took him in and out, hollowing my cheeks as I sucked. His hands fisted against the wall, his chest heaved, and finally his eyes closed. “I can’t take it anymore,” he said, and picked me up.

He carried me out of the shower and propped me on the vanity. I braced my hands behind me on the counter while he positioned my feet up on the edge, pushed my knees apart, and sank inside me, deep, deep inside.

Thrusting into me, Merrick ran his hands up my stomach and over my breasts. “There’s something about fucking you that makes me feel more alive. Like I’m plugged into the universe with my dick inside you.” He crashed his hips against mine, punctuating his words.

I couldn’t do anything but whimper and moan while he plucked my nipples and squeezed my hips, angling me to get even deeper.

God, the sight of him fucking me, tall and strong, muscles
contracting with each thrust of his hips, wet hair slicked back, beard grown out beyond stubble, so demanding of my body, it made my stomach quake and pulse quicken. He was beautiful, a god of a man, and he was mine.

Heat shot up my thighs, making them tremble while a fire ignited in my core. “Merrick,” I whispered, sliding a hand between my legs to touch myself.

“I love it when you do that,” he said. “It’s so fucking hot.” He hooked his arms under my knees and lifted my butt off the vanity. I leaned back on one elbow, rubbing myself desperately. It was right there, boiling under the surface. If I could just release it…

The pressure mounting inside from Merrick thrusting against my upper wall mixed with me rubbing my clit created a volcano inside me. I could feel it all the way to my toes. My orgasm gripped me tightly and didn’t let go. I groaned and cried out like I was in pain, the pleasure was so overwhelming. Every muscle in my body clenched and I’d never throbbed so hard, contractions rippling through my stomach. I heard Merrick make a desperate, strangled sound, then sigh in relief as he came with a wet burst inside me.

He collapsed forward, laying his head on my heaving chest, letting my legs fall from under his arms. We breathed in unison, catching our breath. “What a way to say
au revoir
to France,” he said, laving my nipple with his tongue.

He sat me up and slipped out of me. Sleepy and sated, I wrapped my arms around him and pressed my cheek to his chest. “That was my favorite part of this whole trip.”

“Even better than the ring?” He pinched my butt.

“Maybe not better than that, but this was hard to top.”

He laughed, but I was serious. “I don’t think I could ever get tired of that,” I said. “Not in a million years. I know attraction runs out between couples, but I can’t see that with us. It’s just so intense.”

Merrick lifted my chin to look in my eyes. “Like I said, I’m plugged into the universe when I’m inside you. That can’t fade. It’s the most powerful feeling I could imagine.”

Holding my chin between his finger and thumb, he kissed me. His passion radiated through my body. I held his head in my hands, kissing him back fiercely. I loved him so much it made my chest ache. All I could think of was getting home and becoming his wife.

Merrick was quiet as we sat at the gate waiting for our plane to board. I noticed how he kept glancing around and checking his phone. With forty-five minutes until departure, there was no hope of Nadia arriving to leave with us. I knew there never was.

“No word from her?” I asked. I hated to bring it up, even if it was so obvious, it was its own entity sitting between us. If I didn’t ask, it would seem as if I didn’t care. It was a touchy subject and I wasn’t sure how to navigate around the subject of Nadia.

“No.” He tucked his phone back into his pocket and stared straight ahead.

“Do you want to try her again?”

He shook his head. “I left her a message this morning and I asked Paul to have her contact me if she shows up at the inn.”

There was nothing more he could do. We could wait around in France forever, or maybe be led to Spain or England. Who knew where Nadia would lead us next if we stayed. “She’ll be in touch.”

“Yeah.” He gave me a brief smile that disappeared as fast as it came.

I felt terrible seeing him like this. The sooner we got home, the better.

Fifteen minutes later, we boarded first class. We were seated with our carry-ons stowed and ready to fly. I took his hand and held it, hoping to ease him at least a little. My ring sparkled and I loved how it looked on my finger while his hand was in mine. It bolstered my spirit. He would be okay. We would be more than okay and Nadia would either be in his life or not. It didn’t matter.

I knew all the girl would bring us was trouble. Inviting Nadia into our lives was welcoming more pain and suffering from Enzo. Gina was an unknown variable in the more than screwed-up equation. Where she was coming from and what she was getting out of this situation were mysteries that I really didn’t want to have to ponder. I hoped all three of them stayed on the other side of the Atlantic.