Ten Thousand Words (48 page)

“Love?”

“Yeah?”

“Will you wear your glasses instead?”

Startled, she gave me a look. “Why?”

“Because I think you’re the fucking sexiest little author when you wear them.”

She smiled. “Anything for you.”

My love liked making me happy. That feeling was just so damn sublime. I couldn’t wait to spend the rest of my life making her the happiest fucking sexiest little author ever.

Xanthe was nervous as hell to be meeting my family. I knew she had nothing to worry about. My family was going to adore her. My mother was going to absolutely
love
her. Mama had never thought much of the women I had run with, always wanting me to settle down with a good girl who’d take care of me.

Well, Xanthe might look like a good girl, but I knew better. I knew what sort of pervy little freak she was, and that was just the icing on the cake.
Although…

Looking over at Rex, I wondered if he’d had something to do with it. I couldn’t bring myself to ask. I was pretty sure I didn’t want to know the truth, but I had my suspicions that they’d experimented a hell of a lot when they were together. It was just so weird that he was now banging my best friend.

My love might not be able to see it, but I was a nervous wreck myself to meet her father. He knew I had hurt her all those weeks ago—badly enough to have her flee to his home to try to heal.

What can I possibly do to assure the man that I only have her best interests at heart? That I’m not some jackass who’s going to bolt out of her life when I don’t get my way?

David Malcolm would be at the airport, waiting in the limousine, when we arrived. I hadn’t told Xanthe, but I had called her father. I’d pilfered his number from her phone when she wasn’t paying attention. The call itself had gone well, I supposed. After I’d explained who I was and he’d responded with dead silence, I had known that I would have to make it up to him for hurting his only child.

“Sir, Xanthe’s become my whole world. I’m madly in love with her. I
need
my family to meet her. I’ve never brought a woman home. I’ve never wanted to,” I’d said.

“Is that so?”

“Yes, sir. I…I messed up. I was angry with her and reacted poorly when we were in New York. I’ve done everything I can to show her how much I regret that day.”

“Mmhmm.”

The man had scared the hell out of me.

“I would love for you to be with us over the holidays. I know Xanthe wouldn’t be happy unless you were with us…” I had been close to begging.

If he didn’t say something, I was going to tell him that Aunt Ellen loved me.

“Sure,” he’d replied.

The breath I’d been holding had exploded out of me in a rush. “Thank you, sir.”

“I never want to see her hurt like that again,” he’d told me.

“Neither do I,” I’d replied.

“She seems very happy to have you in her life, Oliver. But I’m warning you. This is your last chance with me.”

After that conversation, I knew I had to prove my words to him more than ever.

What would I do if I were in his position, seeing my daughter heartbroken and wretched?

The thought of having a daughter with Xanthe blossomed a powerful, wonderful warmth through me. Looking over at my love as she read from her e-reader, I imagined her heavy with my baby, and I went rock hard in my pants.

Good God, I’m not going to make it.

“What sort of birth control do you use?” The words just spewed out of my mouth before I could check them.

Stunned, she looked forward for a few seconds before slowly turning to look at me. “What?”

It’s already out there, so might as well keep going.
“I never see you take a pill. I was just wondering.”

“I have an implant in my arm. Why?”

Because the sudden need to have you knocked up is killing me.
“Just curious.”

She turned back to her e-reader.

“Do you want to have kids?”

She lowered the device to her lap and switched it off before turning her attention back to me. “You are really starting to freak me out, Oliver.”

“I want to have children with you, Xanthe,” I said softly.

Her eyes widened behind her glasses. “Really?”

“Yes.” I was more than certain.

“Well…all right. I guess I can see it happening one day.”

“You haven’t thought about it at all?” I asked.

“No. Have you?”

“Until this very moment, I’ve done all I can to avoid getting anyone pregnant,” I replied.

“Until
this
moment?”

“Yes.”

“And what’s so significant about
this
moment that you’re harping on about my birth control and whether or not I want children?”

“Because…I was thinking of what it was like for your father to see how I’d broken your heart—”

“Seriously?”

“And I wondered how I would react to seeing my daughter come home like that. And then…I realized I wanted to have babies with you.”

Xanthe stared at me as though I had grown an extra head. Then, she faced forward for a few seconds. Looking down, she switched on her e-reader again.

“You don’t want to discuss this?” I asked, disappointed.

“Not for a few more years, thank you.”

“Years?”

She clicked off her e-reader and slammed it down on her lap. “Just how soon are you planning on having this mythical family, Ollie?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well, I’m
not
looking forward to having kids anytime soon, okay? I’ve got a shit-ton of stuff I have planned for this year and next year, too. We’re talking about moving in together. Let’s start with that and see how it goes.”

“Okay,” I replied, my eyes going wide in the face of her anger. “Does it scare you?”

“You
think
? I’ve just come to grips with moving in with you. One step at a time, please.”

“Okay.”

“Okay,” she stated.

Now, I was wondering what these mythical babies would look like.
Would they have her awesome hair?
Oh, man, they would be beautiful with her roses-and-cream complexion and hazel eyes and with my black hair—but curly, like hers. They’d grow up tall and strong—

“What the
hell
are you thinking about?” she hissed, staring at the bulge in my jeans.

I grinned. “Making babies.”

“You’re an asshole!” Her voice was hushed, but her words were scathing.

“Oh, come on,” I said, chuckling. “You can’t honestly tell me you’re not thinking the same thing as I am now.”

The bloom in her cheeks was just gorgeous. I grabbed her face and kissed those bright pink cheeks with all the adoration I had in me. She fussed at first, but then she relented and let me kiss her until she was blushing from happiness.

“One day,” I murmured against her lips, making sure I tickled them with my facial hair.

She inhaled deeply, melting into me. “One day,” she replied, making my heart sing.

David Malcolm wasn’t what I had pictured. He was tall and thin with a massive beard that was sandy brown liberally streaked with gray, and I saw nothing of my love in his features. He wore glasses, and he still had all of his hair on top of his head. He looked like a nerdy archaeologist. From his button-down plaid shirt and beige jacket to his brown slacks and his brown loafers, the man screamed academia.

The look on his face as Xanthe descended the steps from the jet, seeing his daughter, melted my heart. He adored Xanthe, and I knew I was in deep shit. I could only hope that he could see just how much I adored her, too.

“Dad!” she cried, bounding down the steps, forsaking my hand to rush into his arms for a hug.

I was insanely jealous—not that I’d ever admit to it, but there it was. At least she was surprised, which was what I had wanted. Rex was next to receive a hug from David.

“Nervous?” came Trey’s voice from behind me.

“And then some,” I replied.

“Me, too. Did you know that he practically raised Rex from when he was twelve?”

I did know that.

David had taken Rex in when he and Xanthe had become inseparable. Xanthe had likened it to parental instinct. David had simply known that Rex needed an adult to love him and had welcomed him into their hurting family. When Rex had been disowned, he’d moved in with them until he’d left for Amsterdam, and Xanthe had gone to university.

Aunt Ellen slipped her arm through mine, and I happily escorted her down the steps.

“Don’t worry,” she whispered. “He’s going to love you, kiddo.”

“Thanks,” I whispered back.

“David!” she barked as we stepped down from the last step. “Come say hello to your future sons-in-law!”

My heart ceased to beat for a few seconds. Xanthe’s eyes clashed with mine while Rex covered his mouth with his hand to hide his smirk. I had been fantasizing about knocking her up, completely skipping over the fantasy of having her walk down the aisle toward me in a white dress.

Holy shit. Don’t get hard.

David held out his hand to me, and I grasped it like a lifeline.

“It’s good to finally meet you, Oliver.”

“Likewise, Mr. Malcolm.”

“Dr. Malcolm,” he corrected. “But you can call me David.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“And this here is Pound Cake,” said Ellen, dragging Trey to the front. The old woman was a lot stronger than she looked. “Rex’s boyfriend.”

Poor Trey.
He looked as though he wanted the ground to swallow him up whole, which was weird because he was such a people person.

David took it all in stride. Beaming through his beard, he shook Trey’s hand. “Nice to meet you, Pound Cake.”

“Um, my name is Trey Fawkes.”

“Not anymore, it’s not,” said David.

Xanthe

The limo pulled through the gates, revealing a long driveway lined with huge oak trees. Once we reached the house, my jaw was hanging open. Made of brick and glass, it was breathtaking, to say the least. It looked to be three stories, but to the left of the mansion seemed to be a terraced subterranean area. I couldn’t be too sure without a tour.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. If they don’t like us, we’ll head home,” my dad whispered to me as we made our way up the steps to the Fairfaxes’ palatial house.

Oliver was nearly bouncing with excitement as he took my hand and pulled me next to him for the last few steps. We hadn’t yet made it to the front door when it burst open, and a gorgeous young woman exploded out. Squealing and screaming, she flew at Oliver and jumped him. He didn’t release my hand though. He held his sister—
she’d better be his sister
—with one arm, laughing with unbridled joy.

“Tessa, you’re strangling me!” Oliver said.

“Tessa! Where are your manners? For shame!” came a voice from inside.

Knees turning to rubber, I realized
this
woman had to be Oliver’s mother. The family resemblance was uncanny. She had jet-black hair with a flash of silver in the front and twinkling black eyes. She was short, which did surprise me since Oliver was quite tall.

Tessa moved on to Trey so that Oliver’s mother could reach up with both hands and tug his face by his beard down to hers for a kiss.

“Is this Xanthe?” she asked softly, her voice a rich, warm sound, lightly accented.