Come Home Bad Boy (25 page)

A smile broke across my face. “Thanks, I need to finish getting ready.”

Letting me go, Sara grabbed something off the bed. “One more thing.” The black dress was tossed at me, covering my face and blinding me. “Wear this. You always looked good in black.”

Minutes later I sat in the tub, the water hot against my skin. A bath always soothed my nerves.

I moved my hands through the water, parting the bubbles. Pieces of my blushed flesh shined under the lights. My head rested against the cool porcelain, a clear image of Owen's face fixed in my mind.

He's deeper than most people would guess. I doubt anyone gives him a chance to show that side of him.

He'd been closed off from the start, yet, with time, he'd taken down fragments of his walls for me.

Owen was a man with a hard past...

But maybe a bright future.

And now we share a life.

The soft tap of my finger against the tub was exaggerated by the tile around me.

I knew what I had to do.

***

T
he dulcet tones of the violin drifted into my ears as I opened the tall glass door of the restaurant. The hostess area was lightly lit with candles adorning several small shelves against the back wall.

The floor, constructed of deep gray granite tiles, had a long floral runner ending at an elegant, handmade cherry podium.

I wonder if he's going to think this place is too fancy? I wanted to take him out of his element a bit. See if the refined nature here bothered him.
He didn't object when I called him and said to meet me at Capriani's, one of the more expensive places in town.

That had to be a good sign.

My anxiety began to set in at full force. I had arrived a few minutes early, wanting to have some time to settle in and calm my nerves.

I can't believe I'm doing this! Dinner with Owen Jenkins, I never would have imagined this three months ago.
A heavy breath pushed through my lips. I squeezed the small, red clutch in my hands and walked to the hostess.

A zealous smile spread across the young woman's face. “Hello, welcome to Capriani's. Your guest has been very eager for you to arrive.”

I looked at her, confused. “Wait, how do you know I'm here for someone in particular?”

There is no way he is here already. She must have me mistaken for someone else.

“I was given a very distinct description of who he was waiting for.” She held a menu up against her face as she spoke. “It also helped that he's been checking the front every few minutes and saw you pull in. Follow me.” Her smile never faded as she turned and entered the dining area.

My eyes studied the room, the candle light flickering brightly against the shiny leather of the booths. Each table was ornate with a tall vase filled with purple orchids. The cloth napkins resting on the tables were folded into the shape of birds, their color matched the flowers in the center.

As the hostess turned, I was struck by a sight I had never expected.

There Owen was, sitting in the booth, looking like one of the men in a GQ magazine. A black blazer rested over his muscular torso, a white t-shirt underneath tight against his skin. I could make out each crease of his abs under the cotton.

Oh my god. He looks incredible.

His gaze fixated on me as I was led to him. He didn't mute his overt appreciation for how I looked; he ate me up from feet to lips with his hungry stare.

He stood to greet me and my body began to warm, it was as if I had been out in the cold and was handed a hot drink. The heat poured over my insides, filling every space.

“Hello, beautiful. You look amazing,” he said as he placed his hands around my wrists.

“Thank you.” I didn't know what else to say.

I don't know if I'll be able to tell him about the baby. I need to, but this is going to be hard.

Just play it by ear. If it doesn't seem right, I won't tell him just yet.

“Sit. I told you before, I don't bite.” He chuckled and led me into the booth.

Neither of us uttered a word for several seconds. I looked down at my place setting and began to fidget with the silverware. I couldn't make eye contact with him. My stomach twisted and turned in every direction.

I'm so ridiculously nervous! I want to vomit.

Get a hold of yourself!

“So,” he said in a husky tone, “I'm going to be honest. I think you look so god damn sexy right now.” He brought his finger up and brushed my hair behind my ear.

My face flushed bright red, briefly my eyes reached his then looked across the room. I knew he was going to feel my nervousness, sense that I was unsure and afraid of what I was doing.

Come on, Charlie, just say something. Anything.

The silence that coated my tongue evaporated. “Well, you don't look so shabby yourself.”

“I'd thought about just wearing my dirty work clothes. But, they didn't really match the shoes I wanted to wear.” He leaned back in his seat, the corners of his mouth raised up in amusement.

That single motion brought me back to the prison, our meetings. How sure of himself he had been and still was.
It's such a turn on to see him so confident.

Before I could respond, the waiter walked up to our table bearing a full bottle of white wine. “Here you go, sir, our finest Chardonnay.” He lifted Owen's glass to pour it in. “Miss?”

“Oh. No thank you. Water will be just fine.” I darted my eyes between Owen and the waiter.

“What? No wine? This is a special occasion, live a little.” Owen lifted my glass to have it filled.

“No, really. I'm all set.” I tried to remain natural. “Water is fine.”

“Alright, so you're going to let me drink this whole bottle myself? Are you trying to get me wasted?” He wrinkled his forehead over my decline of the wine. “You want to take advantage of me, don't you?”

“Yes, exactly. You figured me out.” I played into him a little. “I really want to get you so drunk I can do whatever I want to you.”

I want to tell him the real reason I can't drink.
I hated this game of lying.

Suddenly, I noticed his view was concentrated on the large window behind me. For that moment he was no longer present at our table. I turned to see what he had been looking it.

A large number of people, bundled up in winter gear, passed by. There seemed nothing unusual about the sight, but his eyes engulfed the dark figures on the sidewalk.

Why is he looking so intensely out the window? It's a busy street, that's all.

“You alright? What are you looking at?” Curiosity filled my voice.

He shook his head and took a large gulp from his glass. “Yeah, yeah. I'm fine. It's nothing. I thought... I thought I saw... never mind.”

“Well then, tell me what you've been up to since you left Greene?” I asked.

For most of dinner, conversation was good. The scared feelings had lifted for a time. He talked about his job at the shop, and wanting to maybe open up his own one day. He shared that he had been trying to save to buy a house and really wanted to do things 'differently' now that he had a fresh start.

He seemed changed, more ambitious than I had expected.

Maybe he has turned a new leaf. He has goals and desires.

“Alright, enough about me. Tell me more about you. Anything good going on in the world of Charlie Laroche?”

I think I should just tell him. Say it and get it over with. Holding it in is killing me inside, he needs to know.

I have to tell him.

With all the talking I've done as a therapist, finding a way to tell him the most world changing aspect to both our lives was non-existent. I physically could not place the words.

What if he freaks out? I have no clue how he is going to react. The anxiety is actually hurting me inside. My chest is heavy and my entire body aches with fear.

“Yeah,” I mumbled, “There are things going on. I may have a new job soon, which is great.” I twisted my napkin in my hands. The sweat continued to form on my palms even with the cloth firmly gripped.

“Are you
still
nervous about being around me?” he teased. “See, a little wine would soothe that. And so would a massage from me.” His grin was playful. “Here, have a sip of mine.”

“No, really Owen, I can't.” My left leg begin to shake rapidly.

“Look, I'm not trying to pressure you. I just want...”

“I'm pregnant.” The words shot out across the table. For the first time that evening, my eyes remained frozen on his.

Shit, it just spilled out of my mouth.

Blankly, he stared at me. “What?” He looked lost, unsure of what he had heard.

“I'm pregnant.” My mouth opened, shut, then opened again. “With your baby.” I looked into his face for some reaction. I had to know what it would be, even if it was awful.

Owen's elbows rested on the table, he rubbed his forehead vigorously back and forth. His eyes were large, they drifted aimlessly around the room. Then, he leaned back forcefully into the booth, his arms flying up to cradle his neck.

What is he thinking? Maybe I shouldn't have told him? Was this a mistake?

Say something, anything! What is he going to do?

“You're pregnant?” he asked slowly. “For real, you're not kidding.” Sitting there, he ran a palm over his jaw. “Fuck. Pregnant, I honestly didn't expect you to say that.”

Alright, no yelling yet. He's still thinking, trying to understand this. Give him some time, let it set in.

His fingers spread on the table. Owen bent closer, the centers of his eyes as deep and liquid as a star-covered galaxy. He was an enigma, his emotions bottled away so no one could reach them.

I prepared myself for the worst.
Get ready to grab your stuff and leave. I don't want a a scene.

What had I been thinking? Of course Owen didn't want to be a father. His life had just begun again, what sane person wanted the responsibility of a baby thrown at them, now, of all times?

He must hate me. I bet he's thinking I'm scum, or stupid, because I wasn't on birth control. But I wasn't planning on having sex! I didn't plan any of this! I...

“You know what this means?” he asked, tension low in his throat.

I said nothing, my hands balling in my lap as I waited for him to chew me out.

Owen blinked, a seriousness touching his hard-lined mouth. “This means our lives just became one. If you thought you could get rid of me before, good luck trying now.”

Every muscle in my body stiffened. “What?”

“You have my baby inside of you, Charlie.” Nothing in his face said he was joking around. He was flat, severe, eyebrows low over his eyes. “You're mine. That baby is mine. I'm not leaving your side, you're stuck with me.”

A ringing began in my ears.
He's really serious.

I was his? God, why did that make me tingle?

He rested his head against his hands. “How long have you known?”

The seat squeaked as I shifted in place. “A few weeks now.” My body was tense, I had no idea what to expect from him.

“A few weeks?
Why didn't you tell me sooner?
” Frustration spilled from behind his gritted teeth, his fists rolling up into balls. I anticipated him hitting the table, pounding down on it as he had done during one of our sessions.

His hands are shaking, oh shit. What is he going to do?
I didn't expect him to be upset over not telling him. “I don't know. I only ran into you a few days ago, and I was nervous about bringing it up.” The muscles in my chest tightened, my breathing became quick and short.

His strong, muscular arms stretched out across the table, fingers linking on top of mine. “It doesn't matter, none of that fucking matters. From here, we go forward, okay? You get that?” His knuckles went white, almost causing me pain. Oddly, it was comforting. “Now, I'm a part of you forever. And you're a part of me. I'm not letting you go anywhere, Charlie. I'm going to be right here for that baby and you.”

Frustration had been replaced by his primal nature. I fought the urge to kiss him. “Owen, I want you to be here for this baby. I do. But, are you going to be handle to this?”

I wanted him to say 'Yes,' to tell me he would do anything for this child. Worry clouded my beliefs. He was a felon, how did I truly know he wouldn't fall back into his ways?

His face twisted with seriousness. “I am
not
going anywhere. No matter how much you may want to push me away, that baby is mine. We're chained together, Charlie.”

His fierceness made me shiver.
How can I feel such a desire?

I should be worried, scared even, that he is the father of this baby.

But I'm not.

“Charlie, this baby is going to be the center of my life. And so are you. It doesn't matter what you thought about me before. You're carrying my family, my child, my blood.” The playful eyes from when I arrived became solemn. He slid over next to me and rested his hand on my stomach. “This is my baby in here.”

A single tear slid over my cheek. It made me happy to see him so accepting of the life inside of me. “It's our baby,” I  said, looking up at him. He brushed the tear away, bringing his face close, passionately pressing his lips to mine.

He says I belong to him.

Nothing had ever felt more right.

Owen

T
he softness of her hair fell over my hand as I brushed it back from her shoulder. I was mesmerized by the glow of her skin. All I wanted to do was touch every inch of her flesh.

She's carrying my child. I never expected I'd ever be a father.

I couldn't stop staring at her as she drove us back to her apartment. The bottle of wine I had indulged in had hit me as we stood to leave the restaurant. Charlie wanted to take me home, but I'd insisted we needed to be together.

The ride was silent, we shared glances in the brightness of passing vehicles. I noticed her eyes twinkled under each set of lights.

I'm not going to be away from her. I'm going to keep her safe, be by her side every minute I can. She's not ever going to think she's doing this alone.

I'm right here.

And this is where I'm staying.