Mind F*ck (24 page)

Ahh…but what fun Hell can be.

Nicks and cuts and bondage,
oh my!

Lexy has her work cut out for her as my wife and
only
sexual partner, this time around.

Indeed.

My balls tighten as the crescent shaped quarter sized marks I left above each of Lexy’s hip bones flash behind my closed eyelids.

The red is so much brighter against her pale skin. Not like the tanned girls in LA.

Her pale skin…

My orgasm tears its way through me.

Then I watch as the cum circles the drain.

Once I’ve dried off, shaved, and brushed my teeth, I dress and rub on some after shave.

I smile at myself in the mirror, flash the dimples, and wink.

I have a wife to begin wooing again, it seems.

And although she wasn’t much of a participant last night, I’ve arranged my plans…

We have a lot of missed time to make up for, and she’s not missing out on the fun again.

No way in Hell. Hers or mine.

Liam Dean has been busy.

Quite busy, actually. It did take some time, but I got the information I needed from Travis last night. And thank Christ, I didn’t have to deal with his sister for anything further about Liam and his recent whereabouts.

I don’t think I could’ve handled Summer Jackson last night.

No man should ever have to handle Summer Jackson more than once in their life. Believe me.

Hell, look at Liam.

The woman is a man-eater. And Liam isn’t a lessor man because he failed. I’ve seen
or heard
of many falling, much faster than he did and they gave up fortunes for the fall.

Damn kid she’s carrying isn’t even his.

That’s a hard pill to swallow.

One I can fucking sympathize with swallowing.

When I sent that text to Lex last night, I’d drank more than I should have. But I meant it. That’s just the thing. I typed it up when I was sober. Then I had to get drunk to send it.

I want that girl. All of her. And I want her bad.

But I want her healed more.

And if she needs to learn to accept love, especially so soon after her marriage with Liam dissolved, before she can heal and start this thing with me, then so be it.

My Gone with the Wind loving mother always used to tell me, “
Rhett, as long as it is well with your soul. As long as it is well with your soul—it’s gotta be good.”

And this—this thing with Lex is worth it. She’s well with my soul, because
she is
my soul.

Believe it or not, so is the child she’s carrying.

It’s just going to be a slow process. Possibly very slow.

She needs to heal.

I already knew when I pulled into the pool house garage last night that I was going to lay low for a while. Especially with Lexy.

After the talk I had with Travis, I know now I can’t afford to push her. If I push her, she’ll probably bolt.

While I watched that woman over the last two months, I learned so much more than I ever hoped I could when I first met her.

And, damn—I still remember all those strawberry blonde curls hanging around her shoulders with that white down comforter pulled up, yet barely covering anything. And those damn green eyes…

First impressions…God. Damn, did the woman make a first impression on me.

I chuckle to myself, running my fingers through my hair and twisting the shit on top of my head into a sloppy bun.

After I grab a bottle of water from the fridge, I tuck my iPod on the strap around my bicep and pull my t-shirt over my head.

I run in place on the front stoop, then stretch my legs behind me, warming up.

Once my earbuds are in, I start running the path Lexy and I favor when we run on the property. There are some of the biggest willow trees I’ve ever seen, with low hanging branches towards the back behind the pool house and a creek that runs up the east side of Dean’s Estate.

It’s beautiful out here. It truly is.

A few days after we recruited this pathway, we ran an extra mile and found our perfect spot.

The spot we’re meeting at today at three.

There’s a cluster of smaller willow trees right next to the clear creek with a huge old oak tree on the opposite side. When we first found it, the bridge that had been built over a shallow part of the creek was too old and rickety for us to even test out. So, the next Sunday, we went out and boarded a new bridge along the old one. I came back later and re-enforced the structure a bit, then tore down the old one.

Bam. My baby had a new bridge.

But what she doesn’t know…is in between working on the finishing touches of the house before it goes on the market—per Liam Dean’s request, I’ve been slipping out here when I can and building her a tree swing. It didn’t take long at all.

She told me about one she had when she lived in New Orleans when she was a little girl the night we hung out in the hot tub after my birthday party. I’ll never forget it.

Hell, I’ll never forget any of the stories Lex has told me.

Once I round the corner, the sun rising hits the still water of the creek and a red reflection is casted off it. I have to shield my eyes momentarily to see our spot and the tree swing.

I hung it from the old oak tree on the other side of the creek with a huge rope and a log that I split in half and shellacked. It was one left over from when they built my log cabin up in Andes. The one me and Lex have been calling home lately. The one I want to call home with her forever with, if she’ll ever let me.

Anxiety rushes through me when I realize that when I sent that text to her last night, what I was really doing was asking her to freaking marry me.

Via a damn text.

I wince when my mind puts the scenario into that logic.

Shit. No. I didn’t.

Don’t worry, I’ll fix it. Somehow, I’ll fix it.

I stretch my quads out and then each arm over the other shoulder, switch the songs on my playlist until I hear the first chords of Holy Grail by Jay-Z and start jumping in place.

I’m pumped for our date.

Stoked as shit, really.

I start jogging back to the pool house, before pushing myself harder and in less than thirty seconds I’m at full speed, running. Thinking…

God, I hope I do this right. I gotta get this thing with Lexy right. I have to.

I have to.

I glance at my Fitbit watch.

Fuck. I have eight damn hours until three pm. Eight hours before I can see her.

How the hell am I supposed to lay low if I don’t like the fact that I have eight hours until I can see this girl again?

I’m so screwed.

I’m so incredibly mind fucked by miss Lexy Mayer Dean. And I know it.

And I love it. I think and chuckle to myself.

I really hope I’m portraying Lexy clearly to you. I want you to fully grasp just how incredible this woman is. The time I have with her, the moments we shared. There’s so much I feel like I’m not telling you.

Okay—like the time she and I were still in separate rooms after we first moved into the cabin in Andes.

We’d just got in from our morning run, and I still had my earbuds in. Only cranked full blast, with
both
earbuds in.

I usually keep one out when I run with Lex so we can talk.

Anyway, we’d separated after our five-mile run in the hallway between our rooms and headed into our own.

We both had our own bathrooms. However, she hadn’t gotten around to telling me that her shower was stopped up. So fortunately, on that day, I’d decided to forego my laps in the stream that runs along the back side of the cabin and take my shower early. And I interrupted her mid-streak sneaking into mine.

Too make a long story short—she was buck naked, I was buck naked, we both rounded the corner at the same time. Her hands shot up,
dropping her towel,
to make sure my chin was okay (I smacked it on her poor forehead) and on their way up, they knocked my towel, which was hooked around my hip bone, down.

So when we ran
smack
into each other, there was an actual
smacking
noise that ricocheted down the wood-paneled walls of the hall as her naked front smashed into my naked front.

And while yes, we had been intimate before at this moment in time—she was still fighting something. It was the last of something, but it was something just the same and it caused her to still hesitate sometimes. I know now though, when she did shit like that, she was just questioning the hell out of herself.

Crazy woman.

But it was the look on her face. After her eyes flew to mine and locked…much like our bodies were locked at the time, it was the look on her face when she finally cracked that smile. Her beautiful smile.

She’s so beautiful. Pure.
I remember thinking to myself.

And in all honesty, I think she only smiled because she felt the tell-tell signs of my ninety percenter.

God, that woman’s smile could make a man travel seas…

And I’m supposed to wait? How many hours now? I glance at the clock between cutting one of the sandwiches I’m making in half. Eleven-thirty. About three more hours.

To say I’m questioning this whole laying low thing at this point, is an understatement. I want three hours gone. But on the cool, I also know I need to freeze time for a second so I can plan my next damn move, too.

I have the ring, hell I’ve had the ring.

I’m tempted to take it with me today. Just say fuck it and lay it all out on the line.

But I don’t want to push her.

I can’t fix her, I know she’s got to fix herself. And that’s what I’m going to have the hardest time struggling with. Standing by her side and offering help, only when she asks for it.

And not just snatching her up and hauling ass off to an island somewhere and making this damn thing happen, whether she wants it to or not.

I want to just shove the damn shoe on her little Cinderella foot and get it over with. That’s what I really want to do.

But Liam defined too much of her life for too long. He almost had her completely brainwashed before I came into her life. Almost.

And although she may be well with my soul, I need her well with her own first. Then mine.

Once I have the fruit and cold sparkling water, Lexy’s favorite, stowed in the picnic basket, I set the sandwiches on top and grab my keys, cell phone, and the basket before heading out the side door. I feel my phone vibrating in my pocket as I slide into my truck and read a text from Lex:

Don’t respond. Just know this—I can’t wait till three o’clock today. I do love you, Rhett. And I do want to do this. With you. And our child. I’ve just left the docs, Rhett. Congrats. You’re the father. See you at three, under the tree. :* I love you, baby.

People, I’m flying high as I head out to run some last minute errands. I can’t lay low. Okay, I’ll try. But this baby is mine.

Holy shit, this baby is mine.

How does she even know? How do the docs know?

This thing with Lexy will work out— even if it’s the death of me—it’s working out.

It only takes me an hour to swing by Smith’s Pharmacy and grab my monthly supply of glucose sticks and insulin for the month of July. I make a last minute decision to stop by a flower shop on the corner of Market and Common Street downtown. It’s sort of out of my way, but they keep Lexy’s favorite tulips in stock.

And if I’m going to do this date thing, then dammit, I’m going to do it right…

I get stuck behind an older lady writing a check in line for fifteen minutes, but I utilize the time deciding on which color, lilac or pink.

I go with lilac because it reminds me of her, and the thought makes me smile.

I’m stepping from the florist shop when I see Mary, Lexy’s friend, almost a block up from me walking from a little bistro to a taxi. I call out her name and say, “Hi,” trying to get her attention with a wave, but she’s in the taxi and it’s driving away. She never even heard me.

And I briefly wonder if I’m imagining she was upset.