Irrevocably Mine (Imagine Ink Book 3) (8 page)

“When will you and Dax stop dancing around each other and do the dirty?”

Stacy grabbed her beer and chugged in an effort to get the pizza lodged in her throat down.
What the fuck?
Gus was supposed to talk about John or her lack of interest in Dax, thinking she was giving the green light to Stacy, but not bring out the big guns. Stacy chanced a glance her way, and caught a sparkle in Gus’ eyes before she masked it with innocence.
Oh, well played, Pixie, well played.
Stacy was sure Gus wanted to throw her for a loop, catch her off guard, turn the tables and ensure honest and open answers from Stacy. She should have known. With her therapy mojo, Gus would have read Stacy as quickly as a bodice ripper romance novel from the ninety-nine cent bin. Stacy hated to be on this end, but her estimation of Gus rose significantly.
Mad respect.

Well, what the hell.
Stacy decided to join the club, do girl time, and spill. If for no other reason than knowing that Gus would respond to her honesty and reciprocate about John. “We did
chica
, catch up already.” She said it with a whole hell of a lot more cool and calm than she felt. Stacy rose for more pizza in an attempt to steady herself.
I can’t believe I actually said it out loud.

Now it was Gus’ turn to chug her drink in an attempt to cover her shock. Stacy chuckled and patted her on the back. “You okay there, slugger?”

After wiping her mouth and depositing both her food and drink on the coffee table, Gus turned her way with intensity and shock. Stacy enjoyed a moment of smug satisfaction before terror set in.
Ha, wasn’t expecting that, were you, Pixie Pants? Oh, shit, maybe you kind of were.
Stacy studied Gus with a bit more focus. Blinking, she employed her five-second flash assessment.
Oh, shit, you might not have been expecting that we already did the horizontal bop, but you were expecting me to open up. I’ll be damned; your mojo is authentic as fuck.

“To be honest, no…yes…maybe? I mean...it was inevitable. I just…wait, last night? Holy crapballs, you had sex with Dax last night. It had to be. Nothing else makes sense. Wow, so, yeah, I guess I wasn’t expecting all of that, but do you want to chat about it? I know you’re not the type, but if you ever wanted to give it a try, I’m willing.”

Stacy decided,
fuck it. I need advice anyway, and who better than Gus?
She was sure Gus wouldn’t judge or even share with anyone else, so why not give this whole being in a circle thing a try. It may even help Stacy find the answers she needed. “Sure, why not. So, we did the old in and out and well, it was a hell of a lot more than in and out, if you know what I mean.” Stacy was nervous as hell, as evidenced by her need to humorize it. But shit, if she was going to go all estrogen bonded, she might as well be serious. “I mean, besides the obvious I meant by that poor attempt at humor, I felt…stuff.”

“That’s a good thing, don’t you think? I mean, average sex is just that, average and nothing to write home about. No one wants a relationship where the sex is just eh.”

“No, you don’t understand.” A long silence followed that statement. Gus was content to let Stacy work it out in her head. Stacy turned toward Gus, wanting to get a read on her. “First thing’s first. If I give in to this ovarian-required slumber-party-type conversation, will you reciprocate where John and his potential place in your life is concerned?”

One nod, and a wealth of information was Stacy’s. A fucking storm kicked up in Augusta’s eyes and the ultimate answer Stacy needed was there. Gus’ feelings for John were deep, indeed, and if her open face could be believed, she would move Heaven and Earth to have him in her life.

“When I say I felt something, I don’t mean just happy-fun-time with my lady bits, I mean here.” Stacy placed her hand against her left breast. “I mean, shit Pixie, I don’t know what I mean.” Another chug emptied her amber bottle and she went for a replacement.

Gus’ voice followed her to the fridge. “Did you just call me Pixie?”

“Sorry about that,” Stacy mumbled around the mouth of the bottle of her dark, brewed courage. “I’ve always called you that in my head, and well, when I’m freaking out inside, I guess my filter doesn’t work so great.” She drank down the bottle in her right hand before ever making it out of the kitchen. Grabbing another, she tossed the cap on the counter and returned to her place on the couch. Pizza forgotten, she continued, “No offense, but you look like a pixie and well…why are you laughing?”

Gus continued yucking it up and wiping tears from her eyes in an effort to contain her amusement.

“Seriously, lady, you’re going to launch that kid across the room already if you don’t dial it back a notch. What’s so fucking hilarious, anyway?” By now, Stacy was laughing too, but she didn’t have an inkling why.

“Oh, my God,” Gus panted out between fits of laughter. She was practically doubled over. “You…filter…bwahahaha. Filter doesn’t…” Gus finally made eye contact and she must have seen something on Stacy’s face that sobered her instantly. “Wait, you weren’t joking?” Her laughter returned with a vengeance and now Stacy was really clueless, and Gus was practically hyperventilating from her amusement.

“Joking about what?” Even without a clue why, Stacy was laughing pretty hard now, too. Maybe it was because Gus surrendered herself to her amusement—just surrendered herself to the moment, loving life—or maybe because Stacy needed this. Either way, she was in it now, might as well go for broke. The laughter was already lightening her emotional burden. Why not unload it all? Would she even recognize the feeling of being out from under the crushing weight of controlled emotions when it happened?

“Oh, my God, that’s rich. That makes it one hundred times more hilarious.”

“What?”

“You actually think you have a filter at all.” With that, Gus regressed to her previous state of oxygen-deprivation level laughter, and Stacy did, too. Because for the most part, Gus was correct. Stacy didn’t have a filter, flustered or otherwise, she just lacked one completely.

Once the laughter had receded to a light chuckle and the tears of amusement were drying, Stacy put her hand on Gus’ thigh. “Talk to me about John.” Stacy wanted, almost needed, to talk about Dax, but this…stuff, was overwhelming and she had to take it slow.

Gus looked her in the eye and said words that would bond them together tighter than Stacy ever thought possible. “I’m in love with your brother. Pretty much have been since that day last winter when we had that freak snow and I slid my crossover off the road and hit the feral cat. I don’t know why I called him, maybe because he was closer or maybe because my heart knew something I didn’t, but either way, he showed up in no time. I was a blubbering mess over the cat. It was mangy and wild and probably better off dead, but you know me. That’s not something I can live with.”

Stacy grabbed Gus’ hand and caged it in hers, feeling a sisterhood she’d never felt with another. “Ha, I remember the story and the scratches. He held it for the twenty-mile ride to the emergency clinic, hissing and clawing all the way there.”

“Yep.” Gus got gooey-eyed. “He was bleeding like crazy, too, in his new car, no less. I don’t even think he’d made the first payment. Boy, that cat was a terror in the car, scared and hurt, but John held on to him the whole way so he wouldn’t hurt me. His allergy be damned.”

The subject of their conversation slinked across the living room en route to the kitchen, probably to steal some pizza and terrorize Lynyrd. Lynyrd was the sweetest, most laid-back cat Stacy had ever seen. She liked him, and she was most definitely not a cat person. Gus said she named him that because he had the best purr, and she could listen to him all day long. Stacy wasn’t surprised when Gus had named the feral beast who had assaulted John, Skynyrd.

“I’m going to tell you something that totally isn’t my place to tell, but I feel you need to know. I think John is in deep with you too, but he’s in serious denial. Why else would he hold a fucking pissed-off alley cat unless he thought it would endear himself to you?”

Stacy paused. Unsure of how much she should say, but she couldn’t leave it there.

“It wasn’t love at first sight with him, or maybe it was, but he claims it’s just lust. John is a very methodical man. He doesn’t dive into things without analyzing them, making a spreadsheet, and calculating risks. He’s not the free spirit you are, which makes you two perfect for each other. So, my advice is to keep doing you, Pixie, keep him interested and do what you can to push him into action. He craves that balance, and I think you would be good for him and vice versa.” Stacy rose, pretending to seek out a cat. She was stalling, and not very well. She hated cats, always had. Returning to the sofa, she continued.

“However, he will pine away while calling it something else rather than approach you. You will need to spell it out for him. Let him know what you’re feeling, explain everything about the pregnancy and then let him in.” Tongue in cheek, Stacy added, “To your heart and your pants. But if you’re not in one hundred percent once you guys go at it a few times, please let him go. Once he admits to feeling or feels more, he won’t let go, and it will slowly destroy the very essence of who he is to be in it all the way with a woman that’s in it only a fraction.”

Stacy didn’t mean it to sound threatening, but it kind of did—no direct threat but the implication hung in the air, coiling around them both.

“That’s good to hear. I don’t want to be in a half-baked relationship and I’m the type that just kind of knows. With John, I just know, if he’s in it, then so am I.” Dropping her gaze and hand to her barely-there baby bump, Gus’ tone went from hopeful to defeated, “But this little surprise might be too much for him to overlook. I wanted to tell him, Stacy, I honestly did. You, too. I think keeping it from you was harder than him. In a way, I just believed that he would understand, in time, but I was afraid I pushed you too far.”

Gus put on her game face and looked Stacy right in the eye. “I see what you did there, deflecting the conversation, counselor. Enough about John and me, I think that is a conversation that can be put on hold, but Dax cannot. So, spill. When will you be ready to have little, bearded babies.” Gus giggled, but it was tinged with sadness. “You know that’s what he wants, right? He’s like me in that aspect, when he knows, he knows. However, he is also a man of action. He probably tossed his heart at you when he threw your legs up, or even before.”

“Oh my, you make it sound so…junior prom. But, that’s kind of what I wanted to chat with you about. I believe he did throw his heart out there. He didn’t say it, but I got that impression. It was in the way he touched me. The problem is, as much as I want to be that way with him, I’m broken. There is something fundamentally wrong with me and I just don’t know if I can be what he wants me to be for him. What he would need me to be.”

Gus seemed to take offense to what she said. Her body tensed and she dropped her feet to the floor. “First off, bullshit. You
can
be anything and everything for him or for yourself, or anyone else. Secondly, he doesn’t want you to be anything other than his. He knows you and would never want to change you. You’re the one holding back. As long as you give him yourself, warts and all, it will be exactly what he needs.”

“I get that, because, I am kinda fucking awesome.” The laugh rang hollow and Stacy spoke to the heart of the matter before she chickened out, “But what if I can’t get over all the shit from the past? What if I never want him to take my top off? What if I never want him to tangle those big, caring hands in my hair? I used to love that, you know, having a man’s hands tangled in my hair, pulling just enough to point me in the direction for the perfect kiss. Now? Well, Hank stole that joy from me, along with others.” Stacy dashed her cheeks with her palm. “What the fuck lady, you need to dust this place. My eyes are watering and shit.”

Lie.
They both knew it was but Stacy was too vulnerable to admit it and Gus was too sweet to point it out. “Yeah, it’s been a while. I went from clean freak to slob in the first month.” Gus rose and headed to the kitchen, scooping up their dinner remnants as she went. Whether by design or happenstance, Stacy was grateful to not have that close contact right now. She was too raw, too exposed. There was a good chance the guru pixie knew that and that’s why she left and spoke from the kitchen.

“Ah, there it is.” Gus mumbled to herself and puttered around the kitchen, then louder, she spoke toward Stacy, “You know, we all have fears and baggage. Some just hold tighter than others, but if you think Dax is Samsonite free, you’re sadly mistaken, but that’s beside the point. It comes down to you. Do you want things to be different or not? If the answer is not, then carry on. No need to upset your routine, have sex with whomever you want, whenever you want and live your life. There is nothing wrong with that, regardless of what society says. If that makes you happy, then go for it.”

Bomb drop in 3, 2…,
Stacy counted in her head.

“However,”
Ah-ha, nailed it,
“if you want more, you have to be open to it. Admit to yourself you want it. Again, there is nothing wrong with that if it’s what you truly want. But, you do have to act accordingly.” Gus returned to the living room with something she hadn’t expected.

“Calm your tit, is that what I think it is?” Before Gus could even answer, Stacy claimed a plate, had a bite in her mouth and was moaning like a mad woman.

“Yep, Mrs. Reid’s famous southern pecan pie. Ever since the announcement, I have had my refrigerator stocked. Everyone seems to be a part of this pregnancy and that just means wonderful things when he or she makes their debut. The term ‘spoiled rotten’ will not be sufficient enough to convey the state of things.”

They sat in companionable silence, enjoying the unofficial state dessert of Florida. Stacy opened her mouth to speak, instead of shoveling in more calories, but Gus cut her off.

“You do not need to confide in me now, unless you feel compelled to on a deeper level. I will be here, if and when, that time comes, but you do need to at least give Dax the cliff notes version. He can’t avoid the landmines if he doesn’t know where they’re buried. After that, you will have all the info you need to make the decision to pursue a relationship or not. But, I ask the same of you that you asked of me, if you can’t be all in, or at least trying to be, then please, let him go. He means a lot to me, hell, all y’all do.”