Giving In (The Sandy Cove Series Book 1) (26 page)

Oh, the possibilities.

I make myself blush when thoughts of him, his
rock hard abs, and his sexy tattoos appear in my head.

I can’t wait for him to meet my parents. They
say they feel like they practically know him from the way I’m
always talking about him. My mom says I have twinkling stars in my
eyes when I mention his name, the same ones she says she had and
still does for my dad.

That’s true love.

Some days when I come home to the empty house I
occupy, I get sad. Not that I don’t like being alone, I just well…
I’m not used to it. My phone buzzes in my pocket on my way home
from work and it’s Cruz. I can’t help to smile when I see his name
on the caller ID.

“Hi there, Dickcop. What are you up to?”

“Hi there, yourself, Turnip. What are you up
to?”

I pull into my driveway and turn off the
ignition.

“Just getting home from work. You have the day
off today, don’t you?”

“Yep. I’m just driving around, doing some much
needed errands.”

“Well at least you’re being productive and using
your time well.”

“Hopefully.”

I tell him to hold on while I get my work bag
and the bag of groceries I picked up on my way home. I dig out my
keys and walk towards my front door. I can see something sitting in
front of it, not close enough yet to see exactly what it is, and I
immediately try to think back if I ordered anything that would be
delivered. And I can’t.

“You there?” He asks.

“Yes, yes I’m here. I’m getting ready to walk in
my door.”

I get closer and see that whatever it is, it’s
wrapped in green paper, so I tuck the phone under my chin, and bend
over to pick it up.

Well, I’ll be damned.

A bouquet of turnips.

I look around, onto the street, to the
neighbor’s door that’s next to mine.

“Cruz?”

“Yea, Turnip?”

“What errands are you running?”

My heart accelerates, palms sweating when he
doesn’t answer. I put the key in and turn the lock and there’s my
answer, standing in my foyer.

Looking at his baby blues, his broad shoulders,
and his smile is like I just stepped right into heaven. I drop
everything I have in my hands to run to him. Jumping on him,
wrapping my legs around his waist and kissing him like it’s the
first time.

As soon as I touch his sweet lips and run my
hands through his unruly hair, I feel truly home, not with bricks
and mortar, but in his arms.

His kisses are fierce, red hot, and it makes my
blood course through my veins at speeds of those of the greatest of
forces.

He backs me up against one of the walls, tugging
at my clothes, and me at his. Not being able to get them off fast
enough, we cut through the red tape, no talking, just living,
breathing, sharing the desire we both feel for… Each other.

When he enters my body, the pleasure I feel is
immeasurable, leaving me in a dazed frenzy of emotions. The feel of
his hands on my body, the softness and hardness of the way he takes
me, letting my body give into him, sending me over the edge over
and over again. I try to speak, the words coming from me are in
spurts and interrupted sounds.

“How’d… You… Oh God, yes, don’t stop… Did you
get in my house?”

He grunts and moans and he continues to impale
me, my back banging against the drywall behind me.

“Oh, Christ… I… I called Craw. He had a key. I
met him over… Jesus, Turnip… My God you feel so fucking good.”

I claw his shoulders, trying to steady myself as
I ride him with all the power and energy I have.

“Over what?” My breathing heavy and labored as I
ask the question.

“Cof… Cof… Coffee. Oh God here I come. Hold on,
sweetheart.”

He pours into me, still pumping away, as I’m
sent hurling into space, seeing stars, colors bursting, air
changing, the universe spinning out of my control.

Cruz pulls out of me and we slide carefully
beside each other down the wall.

Panting, sweating, smiling, and sated.

I turn to him.

“Well you were right, you did spend your time
off productively.” I wink at Cruz and he reaches for my hand and
kisses it.

“I missed you so much I didn’t think I could go
another day without seeing you. It’s been a month you know?”

“I’m well aware, trust me. What’s with the
bouquet of turnips though?”

He shrugs at me. “I told you I don’t do
flowers.”

Typical Cruz.

“How long are you staying?”

He stands, pulling up his pants, but keeping
them unbuckled so I have a great view of the stars that touch each
of his hips. I trace them with my fingertips, studying them and the
intricate detail on them. He rolls his head back at my touch. I
lean in a bit closer, my face only centimeters from the ink that’s
embedded in his smooth skin. I dart my tongue out to taste him, his
skin still warm from our friction. The edge of my tongue skimming
the outline of the stars, as I place kisses along the
perimeter.

“What are you doing to me, Turnip?” I look up at
him underneath my lashes and smile.

“You told me you couldn’t wait for me to lick
them, so I’m taking full advantage of your day off.”

He kneads his fingers in my hair, and I work my
way up his body, putting my lips on his flesh. His hard, hot skin
almost burning my lips.

When I reach his lips, I kiss him differently,
there’s something else I feel in this kiss and the way he responds
back to it solidifies the fact I have come to terms with: I’m in
love with Raphael Cruz.

As much as I would like to spend the next few
hours in bed with Cruz, and never let him out of my sight, I want
him to meet my mom and dad. Craw called, and he said he told Mom
Cruz came to surprise me, so she wanted to meet the young man who
swept me off my feet. Cruz said he was looking forward to it. At
six, we make our way to my parent’s house, kissing at every stop
light, every stop sign, our fingers intertwined the whole way. When
we pull up to my parents, Cruz’s eyes are wide with surprise at the
size of it. I look over at him and reassure him it’s just a
house.

We enter the house and my ten year old yellow
lab, Sadie, greets us, jumping on Cruz and making him laugh.

“Down girl, get down,” I tell her while giving
her a nice rub of the ears.

“Hey sweetie,” my mom says as she rounds the
corner, apron fixed across her chest and tied.

“Hi, Mom. I want you to meet… Um…” I don’t know
what to say or to call him. Cruz, Raphael, but he takes care of it
for me.

He extends his hand to take hers. “Harlow’s
boyfriend, Raphael, very nice to meet you finally, Mrs.
Hannum.”

My boyfriend.

Hot damn!

“Well, Raphael, or is it ok to call you
Cruz?”

My mom winks at me and Cruz chuckles.

“Yes, ma’am, that’s fine.”

“Then Cruz, it’s very nice to meet you as well.
I’ve heard a lot about the man who makes my Harlow happy.”

I blush and Cruz takes my hand and squeezes it,
taking it up to his lips to kiss it.

“That’s the goal, Mrs. Hannum, and I plan to
keep it that way.” He pulls from behind his back the small bouquet
of daisies he made me stop for on the way here. They’re my mom’s
favorite.

“These are for you. Thank you for having me in
your home.”

My mom gasps and I roll my eyes as he gives me a
cocky grin.

“Oh, they’re my favorite. I used to grow them on
my parent’s farm. Thank you so much, Cruz. Come in the kitchen and
sit while I finish dinner.”

We follow my mom through the foyer into our
kitchen, and I step up on my tippy toes and whisper in his ear, “I
thought you didn’t do flowers.” He kisses my forehead and replies,
“I do for moms, not for you. For you, it’s turnips, Turnip.” I
smack his arm.

Craw comes home from campus and sits for dinner
with us. Dad is still at the office, but will be home soon. Mom
asks Cruz about his new job and how we met. We both laugh at the
question, and she doesn’t get it, but Craw does, so he gestures
with a finger down his throat when Mom’s not looking. We hear Dad
come in.

“Hey, crew, I’m home.” He goes right to my mom
and plants one on her, and strokes her hair, kind of like what Cruz
always does to me.

“How was your day, love?”

“Great, two of the three spawn are here and we
have a guest, Joe.”

My dad doesn’t notice Cruz sitting next to me in
Greta’s chair. He was too consumed with greeting my mom. God, their
love amazes me.

Cruz stands up even before my dad has a chance
to come to the end of the table where we sit. Just like with my
mom, he extends his hand.

“Mr. Hannum, nice to meet you. Raphael
Cruz.”

Dad shakes his hand, thoroughly, eyeing Cruz in
a dad sort of way.

“The Marine, correct?”

“Yes, sir. MWSS.”

“Marine Wing Support Squadron. Very impressive,
Mr. Cruz. Thank you for your service.”

“It was my honor, sir.”

I think my face hurts from smiling so much. All
this is so unexpected. Craw looks at me from across the table,
giving me a thumbs up.

During dinner, Dad asks Cruz about where he
served and a few things about his service I had already known. Mom
is impressed. Dad is impressed and Cruz is relaxed, grabbing my
hand under the table, giving me glances during dessert and asking
Dad about being a lawyer. They do the small talk thing while I help
Mom with the dishes. Cruz asks my mom if she needs help, but she
tells him he is a guest, and guests don’t clean up. Now if
Grandmother were here, she’d stick a butler’s uniform on him and
tell him to get to work. She won’t be as impressed with him as my
parents are, and that worries me a bit.

I look at my watch and realize it’s almost nine
and Cruz has a three hour drive back to Sandy Cove. My stomach
sinks and I feel sick because our time is up.

We say goodbye to my parents. They tell him they
look forward to seeing him at Greta’s wedding.

The car ride back to my house is silent. I hate
this. I really do.

“Holy fuck!” He yells and pulls to the side of
the road. His hands fly to his hair and he looks ashen.

“What the hell is wrong with you!” I yell at
him.

“We had sex three times today and we didn’t use
condoms. How did I let this happen? Please tell me you’re on the
pill or something?”

I’m a bit taken aback by his words, but he
doesn’t know the truth. Is it a good time to tell him? Do I allow
him into the darkness that has plagued my life for almost the last
two years?

Yes, because I love him, and he has the right to
know.

“No, I’m not on the pill,” I snap, but
immediately regret saying it in that tone.

Running his hands thoroughly through his hair,
his jaw opens and shuts as he tried to process what had happened.
“Oh, my God, Harlow. We could be in big trouble here.”

My mind suddenly goes to the place where I don’t
want it to go. I’ve been doing a really good job at hiding it, but
he looks so worried. I need to emerge from the dark place before it
grips me and pulls me in further. I have to remember to be strong,
not to let it bring me to where I so seldom go anymore. That was
before Dr. Goldberg, that was before Cruz, my therapy, my only
hope.

“No, we can’t ‘cause I can’t be pregnant.”

“Yes, yes you can be. Christ, Turnip, I came in
you three times and you never know. You very well could have just
gotten pregnant.”

I feel the strain of his words, and they aren’t
true. The impossibility of them makes me panic, bringing me further
down, sinking deeper and deeper. I rock back and forth in my seat,
biting my lip, holding back the tears, ready to implode. So I
do.

I can’t hear myself scream the words, but I know
I am. It’s the only time in a very long time I say the words out
loud.

“I can’t ever be pregnant! Never, ever. It will
never happen. I had a fucking abortion and I almost bled to death
so I had to have a partial hysterectomy. I’m almost twenty three
years old and I will go through my whole life knowing what I did
will directly affect me for as long as I live. Are you fucking
happy now that you know?! Are you fucking happy?”

My tears turn into sobs, and I’m so afraid to
look at him, so ashamed of the consequences that have brought me
here. I lean my head against the coolness of the window and between
my muffled cries I tell him to take me home. He doesn’t say a word,
just pulls away from the side of the road. When we get to the front
of my house, I feel a little calmer, but not enough not to let him
know the rest of the story if he wants to. I’m in love with him,
and he either needs to accept what has happened to me, or leave me.
Either way, I’m afraid of losing.

I sigh and look over at him. His eyes stare at
the street in front of him, hands resting in his lap.

“I didn’t want you to leave here tonight like
this, with this between us. If you want to know the story, I’ll
tell you, and you can form your own opinion. It is what it is,
Cruz, and I can’t go back and change what happened. It’s taken me
such a long time to get through it.”

He turns to me with solemn eyes.

“Can we go inside and you can tell me?” His
words are quiet, but not harsh or angry, just soft.

We go into the house and I make us some coffee.
We sit across from each other at my breakfast bar. The hot liquid’s
scent creeping through my nose, and I take a much needed sip.

“I’m going to tell you the whole story, Cruz,
some stuff will make you angry, you may even hate me for it, but if
we are going to be together, I need to be honest with you.”

He reaches for my hand, and I’m grateful for
it.

“I could never hate you, Turnip. I… Go
ahead.”

“In February of last year, I found out I was
pregnant. It was Chad’s baby, and I wanted to keep it. He, of
course, didn’t. See that would have ruined his dating life.”