Never Let You Go (a modern fairytale) (37 page)

“So, uh, maybe we could try a little harder? For Hannah?” asked Gemma, reaching over to place her hand on Holden’s thigh. “We could be a real family, Seth—um,
Holden
. We could get a place, raise her together . . . maybe even get mar—”

“Stop,” said Holden, pulling into the parking lot of the city park with a screech and gently taking her hand off his thigh. He faced her, keeping his voice gentle. “No, Gem.”

“Why not?” she demanded. “I made you happy once. At least a little happy. You let me stick around!”

“You deserve better than someone who lets you stick around. You deserve to be loved.”

“Then love me!” she said with tears in her eyes. “I’m sorry I did that terrible thing, saying I was gonna have an abortion. I never woulda done it. I was so mad at you. I was hurt, and I wanted to hurt you. Whenever you were drunk, you’d talk about havin’ kids one day, and I just thought . . . I thought . . .”

Wait. What?
It all came together in a rush, as Holden held his breath, staring back at her in shock.

“You did this on p-purpose,” he said, his voice low and bewildered in his ears. “W-we didn’t
forget
to use a condom . . .”

Her cheeks flared with color, and she shrugged slowly, in defeat. “I wanted you to love me. I thought . . .” Her words trailed off, her expression miserable. “Before I put it on you, I poked holes in it so it’d break.”

Holden nodded, surprised that he didn’t feel angry with her. He just felt sorry—terribly, awfully sorry for her that she was so lonely for someone to love and to love her back that she’d tried to trap him.

“I’m leaving, Gemma,” he said gently.

The tears in her eyes slipped down her cheeks. “I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! You don’t have to leave!
I’ll
leave. I’ll go back to my mama’s house, and I’ll—”

“Gem,” he said, reaching for her hand. “It’s okay.” He held her hand, looking down at the black-and-white picture of his daughter. “I’m not leaving because of what you just told me. I’m enlisting. It’s been in the works since June.”

She gasped, sucking in a ragged breath of surprise. “The military?”

“Marine Corps.”

“Oh,” she sighed, sniffling. “Yer leaving?”

“Yeah,” he said. “In a couple of weeks. But I’ll send home a steady paycheck for you and Hannah. I can offer her great benefits. Health care. Education. She’ll never want for anything, Gem. I’ll be sure of it. You either. I’ll take care of both of you.”

She sniffled again, tilting her head to the side. “The Marines. That’s . . . well, that’s good, Holden. That’s something. Good for you. Hannah’ll proud of her daddy for serving.” Suddenly Gemma’s lips lifted into a smile, and she gasped lightly. “She kicked!” She laughed, looking up at Holden. “You want to feel her?”

He glanced down at her belly, nodding. She guided his hand to her rounded, swollen stomach, flattening it over the yellow T-shirt she wore.

“Just wait,” she whispered.

A moment later, his tiny daughter kicked her foot into his hand. He looked up at Gemma in amazement. “Oh, Gem! Oh, wow! She’s really in there!”

Gemma smiled back at him, wiping a tear away with the back of her hand and nodding. “I’m sorry, Holden. I’m sorry I did this to you.”

Hannah kicked again, and Holden looked up at her mother’s teary face. “I’m not.”

“Someday . . .  you think we could at least be friends?” asked Gemma.

Holden smiled at her and nodded, removing his hand and starting the truck again. “Friends. Yeah. I think so.”

***

“Sure you won’t come with us?” asked Sabrina, sitting on Pru’s bed and watching as Griselda packed her daughter’s suitcase for the McClellans’ annual August vacation on Cape Cod.

“Thanks, Sabrina, but not this year. School starts in a week. I think I better go over that syllabus again, buy the books, supplies . . . you know.”

“College girl,” said Sabrina, grinning. “I’m proud of you, Zelda. So proud.”

Griselda’s cheeks flushed as she glanced at her boss before heading to Prudence’s closet to find her favorite flip-flops. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”

“Have you been writing stories this summer?”

She had been. Inspired by
Tangled
, she’d stayed busy, writing her own fairytales a little bit every night, and filling up four composition notebooks on her shelf.

“I have. I promised . . .”

“Holden?” asked Sabrina.

Griselda nodded, tucking the flip-flops into the suitcase pocket.

“How is he?”

Griselda shrugged. “Good, I guess.”

“You guess?”

Griselda tugged her bottom lip into her mouth. “We decided not to talk until he headed to boot camp.”

Sabrina raised her eyebrows. “That must be hard.”

“It is,” said Griselda.

And now was the worst of it. Every minute, every hour, of every day, she hoped for a message from him—something, anything to let her know that he was on his way to boot camp and she was still first in his heart. It had been weeks since she’d texted him with the picture of her tattoo. Weeks without a word. Was he still hers? Did he still miss her like crazy and love her forever?

“When does boot camp start?”

“Any day now, I suppose.”

“Aha. You know, I could have Roy find out if he’s—”

“No,” said Griselda, looking up to seize Sabrina’s eyes. “You’re so good to me. But no. If he enlists and wants to let me know, he’ll be in touch.”

“You have a lot of strength.”

Smart and strong. Strong and smart. She was doing her best to be both, to live both.

“How’s Maya? She hasn’t been by lately.”

“She’s good. She’s an awfully good friend to me.”

“She is,” said Sabrina. “I like her very much.”

Griselda grabbed Pru’s favorite bunny, Nermal, off her bed and put him in the center of the suitcase before zipping it closed. “I think that’s everything.”

Sabrina sighed. “Car should be here any minute. Guess I’ll go get my purse.”

Griselda picked up the suitcase and started down the stairs just as the doorbell rang, no doubt the car service driver, ready to take the McClellans to the airport.

“I’ll get it!” she called to Sabrina.

Setting Pru’s suitcase next to the other bags in the front foyer, she opened the front door. But it wasn’t the limo driver. She gasped, hurtling herself into Holden Croft’s muscular arms.

When she opened the door, every thought, every word, even breath, failed him. She was so beautiful—so utterly beloved—all Holden could do was stare at her until she gasped, and then he opened his arms so that she could fall into them.

“Holden, Holden, Holden,” she laughed and cried, her arms winding around his neck and her sweet mouth so close to his throat he could feel her panted breaths, and his body hardened, wanting her.

He lowered his forehead to the crown of her head, closing his eyes and breathing in the fresh, clean scent of her hair, of her skin—of her, his heart, his love, Griselda. Beside himself with emotion, he stood there holding her, unable to move or speak, frozen on the McClellans’ front steps with his woman back in his arms after two long months apart.

“Why are you here?” she murmured into his neck. “Is everything okay?”

He finally tried his voice and found it husky. “I’m headed to Baltimore, Gris. C-couldn’t stop myself from coming to see you, but I have to be there by one.”

She leaned back, her expression tangled between pride and sorrow. “Today’s the day?”

He nodded, tightening his grip around her. “I ship out to boot camp today.”

She took a deep, ragged breath and scanned his face, her eyes finally resting on his lips. “We have a few hours.”

He bent his head, kissing her and stealing her breath away. She was soft and pliant, melting into his body as his tongue swept into her mouth. Her fingers threaded into his hair, her fingernails grazing his scalp as he groaned into her mouth. She tasted like tea and honey, heat and home, and every part of her fit into every part of him, like a puzzle piece, like the missing half of his soul.

“I missed you. I missed you almost as bad as before,” he said. “All I want—”

“Ahem.”

Holden’s head jerked up to see Sabrina’s surprised face concealing a grin.

“Maybe take it inside, you two? You’re giving our neighbors quite the show.”

He felt Griselda’s chest shudder as she giggled, and Holden pulled her closer. “Hey, Sabrina.”

“Good to see you again, Holden.” She cocked her head to the side. “Heading to boot camp?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Sabrina’s attention was captured by something behind Holden, and he turned to see a limo pull up. The driver followed Sabrina into the house to collect their luggage, and Griselda peeked her red face out from her cocoon against his neck.

“The McClellans are headed to the airport.”

“Is that right?” he asked, unable to keep a huge smile from breaking out across his face. “Which means we’ll be alone?”

She nodded, matching his smile, and leaned up to press her lips against his.

“Who’s Zelda kissing?” asked a small person’s voice from below.

Holden drew away from Gris and squatted down to look Prudence in the eye.

“I bet you’re Prudence.”

She smiled up at him, her twin blonde braids shiny in the morning sun. “I bet you’re the Sun King.”

“Oh, you think so?”

The little girl nodded solemnly. “Yes. Your hair’s got some gold like mine, and you’re bigger than my daddy.”

“Hmm. If I’m the Sun King, who does that make Zelda?” he asked, hooking a thumb up at Griselda, who stood beside him on the landing, beaming down at them.

“Lady Starlight, of course.” She lowered her voice and leaned closer to Holden. “’Cause she’s in love with you.”

Holden whispered. “Are you sure? ’Cause I’m definitely in love with
her
.”

“Can I tell her?”

“Better not,” said Holden. “Wouldn’t want it to go to her head.”

Prudence looked up at Griselda, then gave Holden a gap-toothed grin. “I think she already knows.”

Holden chuckled, then stood up and put his arm around Gris. “Well, she’s terrific.”

“I know she is,” said Griselda with pride in her voice.

Just for a moment—a second, really—he wondered about Hannah. Would she be blonde-haired and gray-eyed like him? Or dark-haired and blue-eyed like Gemma? And would Gemma put her hair in braids? And would she think her daddy was the Sun King based on her stepmama’s stories?

“You must be Holden,” said a well-dressed man in his thirties holding a suitcase in one hand and offering his other to Holden. “Roy McClellan.”

“Yes, sir. Good to meet you, sir,” said Holden, shaking his hand.

“Bree tells me you’re enlisting?”

“Yes, sir. If all goes as planned, I’ll be headed to Parris Island tonight.”

“Well, oo-rah, Marine. Good luck to you.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Roy nodded at Griselda and pushed Prudence toward the car. “Time to go, peanut.”

“Bye, Sun King,” she said, and he winked at her.

Griselda leaned down to give her charge a big hug. “You be good for your daddy and mama?”

“I will, Zelda. I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you too, Miss Pru. See you in a week or two?”

“That rhymed,” she said, giggling. “I’ll bring back some shells.”

“Perfect. We’ll make necklaces, and you’ll tell me all about the beach.”

The girl kissed Griselda’s cheek and hurried after her father.

“Well,” said Sabrina, “take care of things while we’re gone?”

“You know I will,” said Griselda, embracing her employer, then stepping back against Holden.

“You look good together. You look . . .
right
.” Sabrina tilted her head to the side, giving them a saucy look. “Just don’t, ah, burn the place down, huh?”

Griselda’s face turned as red as a tomato, but Holden chuckled as they waved good-bye before heading back into the quiet, empty house together.

***

Lord, she felt nervous.

Wasn’t that a strange development? That she should feel nervous with Holden, of all people, made zero sense. But she did. They hadn’t been together—
in bed
—since the cabin, and that was almost two months ago.

She felt his eyes on her as he followed her through the entryway, into the kitchen. She walked around the center island, resting her elbows on the counter and looking up at him. Squelching the impulse to whimper in pleasure, she bit her bottom lip, feeling her cheeks flush. He was so handsome, her breath caught. For the first time since being reunited, his face wasn’t black and blue with cuts and bruises, and her tummy fluttered, flipping over just from looking at him.

He pulled up a stool across from her and placed his elbows on the counter, like her.

“Hi,” he said.

“Hi,” she breathed, her heart quickening. She felt her nipples harden against her T-shirt, and she squirmed a little as the walls of her sex clenched, then relaxed.

His eyes dropped to her chest for a moment, then darkened as he licked his lips. “I hated being away from you.”

She swallowed. “Me too.”

“I missed the way you say my name,” he said, his eyes intense as they stared back at her. “The way your skin feels under my fingertips.”

She shifted her hips beneath the counter, her breath hitching as she listened to his warm, low voice.

“I missed the way your eyes get dark when you want me.”

Then they must be black as coal right now.

“And the sounds you make in the back of your throat when you’re about to come.”

He slid off his stool and stood up, slowly circling the counter.

“I missed the feeling of your ankles around my waist.”

She’d been breathing deeply again for weeks, but now she couldn’t seem to get enough air.

“And the way you say ‘I love you.’”

He stood next to her at the counter, and she turned to face him.

“I love you,” she whispered.

His mouth came down so hard and fast over hers, their teeth clashed together and it hurt, but she stayed pressed against him. Her hands slid up his T-shirt, fanning out along his jaw as he conquered her mouth, his hot, velvet tongue sliding against hers again and again. His hands slipped to her hips, and suddenly she was on the countertop with Holden between her legs, and those ankles he’d just spoken of were locked around his back.

He was hard against her chest and hard between her legs and hard where his arms encircled her, tightly holding her against him like he’d never let her go. She let her soft mouth be taken. She let her soft body be held, and moments from now she’d let him thrust deep inside her soft, wet sex, which pulsed for him with urgency, aching to be filled by him again.

“Downstairs,” she whimpered into his ear, wrapping her arms around his neck.

“Where? How?” he asked, putting his hands under her backside and lifting her off the counter.

“The door behind you.”

He took two steps, fumbling with the doorknob for a moment before it turned, then took the stairs quickly. At the bottom she whispered, “Left,” and he pushed open the French doors that led to her studio apartment, complete with a plush, queen-size bed straight ahead. Stopping at the foot of the bed, he lowered her gently. He covered her with his body and kissed her again.

Dizzy from him stealing her breath, she moaned and arched against him. “I need you.”

His hands skimmed under her T-shirt and bra, pushing both to her shoulders, and as she wiggled out of them, he stood up, quickly pulling off his shirt, unzipping his pants, and pushing them down. Her mouth watered as she stared at his naked body, and she unbuttoned her shorts with trembling fingers and shimmied them down her legs. Holden reached for her panties, pressing the foot of his palm against her sex, and let out a low groan.

“Jesus, Gris. You’re soaked.”

His eyes cut to hers, dark and intense, as her most sensitive skin throbbed under his hand, aching for the touch of his mouth. As though reading her mind, he yanked her panties down her legs and leaned forward, pulling her hips to the edge of the bed.

“What do you need?”

“You,” she whispered, her face hot as she panted the word.

“Like this?”

In one smooth motion, he dropped to his knees and placed her legs over his shoulders. Leaning forward, he gently spread her lips with his fingers and lowered his mouth to her clit. Her fingers twisted in the comforter, her neck bending back as she cried out. His tongue licked her, slow, lapping caresses that made her hips buck off the bed and press closer to his mouth. He sucked gently then increased the speed and pressure of his tongue, and her body started shaking. She opened her eyes to look down at him, only to find him staring up at her, a sight so erotic she lost it. Her muscles convulsed, clenching and releasing, pulsing endlessly as he lifted his mouth and carefully flipped her over so she was facedown on the bed. He pulled her hips to his pelvis and the thick head of his penis pushed slowly into her waiting sheath. The walls of her sex, still throbbing from her orgasm, sucked him forward until she was fully impaled. He leaned forward, his arm under her breasts elevating her off the bed until the angel on his chest met the skin of her back.

“Is this okay?” he groaned close to her ear.

She leaned her neck to the side, and he ran his lips over the damp skin as she sighed, “Yes. You’re so . . . deep. Holden. We’re . . . one.”

“I’ve dreamed of having you like this,” he panted, staying still, letting her get used to him.

“Then have me,” she said, pushing her hips back against his.

“I love you, angel,” he whispered, his lips touching down lightly against her throat as his hips thrust forward. “I’ll never get enough of you.”

She covered his hand with hers, locking their fingers together under her breasts as he continued to pump into her from behind, his pants quicker as deep moans rose up from the back of his throat. The swirling that had just consumed her started building again, more intense with every thrust, with every whispered word of love, until she felt his teeth bite the lobe of her ear, and she screamed his name as her body shattered into a million pieces of pleasure. Holden’s voice growled, “Griselda” close to her ear, then he cried out, his body emptying its tribute into hers.

***

“I missed you like crazy. I love you forever,” murmured Holden. He rested his forehead against the back of her neck, his body limp and loose and entirely sated, though his dick twitched against her ass, suggesting it wouldn’t take much to start round two.

Griselda turned in his arms, her face flushed and glistening with sweat and arousal. His gaze dropped to the pink tips of her breasts that brushed against his angel, and his blood sluiced south.

“Eyes up here,” she said.

She was grinning when he looked up, though he knew her well and he saw the uncertainty behind her eyes.

“Tell me about Gemma . . . and your . . .”

“Daughter,” said Holden, watching the way Gris’s pink lips parted in surprise. “Hannah. We decided to name her Hannah.”

“Hannah,” she said, her eyes welling with tears. “Hannah.”

Holden nodded, his body calming down as he talked about his daughter, and pulled Griselda tenderly into his arms. “I saw her last week on an ultrasound. She was perfect, Gris. Ten fingers. Ten toes. She belched once or twice while we were watching. Little bubbles floating around in there with her. Probably my genes. It was like a miracle to see her.”