Jack and I had everything. Then, in one brutal instant, the universe tilted on its side, discarding us into black nothingness.
Now, I have a cocky a**hole for a husband. The only way we communicate anymore is when we’re fighting or f**king. With nothing left to lose, I write Jack a goodbye letter and head for Portland, where I quickly meet a neighbor who helps me find a job. My new neighbor—hot, tattooed ex-soldier Isaac Evans—is complicated. Nevertheless, we form a fast friendship, bonding over our mutual desire to create something beautiful from the wreckage of our lives. But despite the distance between us, Jack and I are still trying to make things work—fighting and f**king dirtier than ever. And he doesn’t appreciate my new friendship with Isaac. Not one f**king bit.
Dirt by Cassia Leo
Serie: Evergreen #1 Genere: Contemporary Romance, Mystery, Suspense Data di pubblicazione: 12 gennaio 2018 Lingua: Inglese Prenota: iBooks |
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LEGGI IL PRIMO CAPITOLO
Laurel
I
hugged Jack Jr. tightly against my breast, and he molded his soft, warm body to
mine. His eyes remained closed as his tiny fingers curled around the fabric of
my blouse, his rosy lips puckering as he geared up for more food.
“You
sucked me dry, little fella,” I whispered, leaning in to press my nose against
the downy-soft, golden hair on the top of his head. I inhaled his scent and my
muscles unspooled. “But I’ll be back to feed you soon. I promise.”
Why
do babies smell so damn good?
Before
I got pregnant with Junior, my favorite smell was orange blossoms. As a
teenager, I often got scolded by my mom for picking the flowers off the orange
tree in our backyard in Portland. I’d rub the creamy petals between my fingers,
bruise them with my fingernails, then sniff my hand for hours until the scent
wore off.
When
I was pregnant with Junior, my favorite scent became the rich aroma of the
forbidden coffee I could no longer drink.
After
Junior was born, and my decaf days came to a glorious end, I realized how wrong
I’d been. There was absolutely no scent as sweet and soul-quieting as the smell
of the top of a baby’s head. Bonus points if the baby was lying peacefully on
your chest sound asleep.
“Are
you ever going to put him down?”
I
flicked my head sideways, startled by Jack’s clear, baritone voice.
He
stood in the doorway of Junior’s nursery, the silhouette of his six-foot-three
athletic body framed by the warm light in the hallway. His head was tilted to
the side. He’d probably been standing there admiring us for a while. After six
years together, I knew Jack’s body language and facial expressions better than
I knew my own face.
I
stood from the rocking chair and stole one more sniff of Junior’s head before I
placed him gently on his back in the center of the crib. I adjusted the left
sleeve of his pajamas, pulling it down to make sure it covered his entire
chubby arm. I didn’t want to imagine him waking up cold and alone in here.
Jack
appeared at my side as I switched on the video baby monitor. “He’s going to be
fine,” he murmured, reaching down to stroke the soft patch of hair on Junior’s
head. “In fact, he’ll probably enjoy some time alone. After all, he is just
like his daddy; sometimes, we need a break from the constant attention from the
ladies.”
I
rolled my eyes and headed for the door. “Making jokes only makes leaving him
slightly less scary, you know,” I said as we stepped into the hallway of our
five-bedroom dream home in Hood River, Oregon. I couldn’t wait to fill up every
one of these bedrooms with brothers and sisters for Jack Jr.
Jack
chuckled as he followed closely behind me. “Less scary is an improvement,” he
replied, grabbing my hand to stop me in the middle of the corridor. “You
promised Junior you’d be back soon. Can you also make me a promise?”
The
hallway lights made his dark hair look glaringly shiny, but I couldn’t help but
notice how weary his blue eyes looked tonight. Since Junior arrived three
months ago, I’d been so focused on my baby boy’s vulnerability, his scent, his
beauty, I hadn’t slowed down enough to appreciate how those were the same
qualities that made me fall in love with Jack.
Suddenly,
my worries about leaving Junior with my mother for the evening evaporated. All
I wanted to do was kiss Jack, grab hold of that dark hair and make love to him
for hours. I wanted to replace the weariness in his eyes with dark hunger, or
maybe a glint of mischief.
I
squeezed his hand and smiled at the thought of possibly having sex with him in
public tonight. We hadn’t done that in a while.
“What
kind of promise?” I asked.
He
shook his head. “Nope, you’re not allowed to ask. Just promise me you’ll say
yes.”
My
stomach vaulted at the sound of those words. They were the same words Jack
spoke when he asked me to marry him. I wondered what he would ask this time.
The
phrase “just promise me you’ll say yes” had become like an inside joke, our own
private, unspoken promise to each other that we would always do whatever it
took to stay together. The last time he had uttered this phrase, he asked me to
stop taking my birth control pills. With Junior here, it was easy to trust that
whatever Jack asked me for this time would turn out to be exactly what I
needed.
I
tilted my head back so I could look up and into his crystal-blue eyes. “Yes, I
can make you a promise.”
His
expression became sober. “Promise me you’ll be present tonight.” He fixed me
with a piercing gaze as his large hand cupped my face. “It’s just you and me
for the next three hours. Promise me.”
I
smiled. “I promise. Just you and me. And I’ll even put my cell phone on
vibrate.” As I said the words, a sharp finger of fear prodded my subconscious,
telling me it was a bad idea to risk missing a phone call tonight.
The
exhaustion in Jack’s eyes melted away as he smiled. “I can deal with that, but
you have to promise me one more thing.”
“What’s
that?”
His
smile turned almost menacing as he looped his arm around my waist and drew me
close. “Promise me you’ll lemme smash that blonde bombshell booty,” he said,
landing a light swat on my ass.
I
shook my head as I recalled how we often had sex in public during our first
year together, in our senior year at Oregon State University, Cascades. For
some reason, once we graduated and moved in together, having sex in public
seemed like something we couldn’t get away with so easily. We decided public
sex-hibitions — or throw downs, as we more commonly referred to them — would be
reserved for special occasions like anniversaries or vacations.
Truthfully,
Jack and I kicked off our relationship by having sex on the first date. He was
always a very difficult man to resist. When he showed up at my apartment to
pick me up that night, I couldn’t resist his suggestion that we should stay in
and make paper masks of ourselves, then put them on and ask each other first
date questions as if we were the other person. I had never laughed so much on
any date. Ever. But when he asked — while pretending to be me — if I’d ever had
sex with someone on the first date, I couldn’t help but respond with, “I’m
Jack-fucking-Stratton. I’ve fucked a lot of girls on the first date. But none
as gorgeous as you.”
Jack
always knew how to keep things fresh and alarmingly sexy. Six years in and my
body still craved him almost every second of every day.
Today
was our three-year wedding anniversary. We’d only had sex twice since I gave
birth to Junior three months ago, and both of those times were truly awkward.
The
first time was painful. My C-section incision hadn’t fully healed yet, and even
trying to have sex with him behind me was uncomfortable. The second time we
tried, Jack was so afraid of hurting me, he stopped midway through. There’d
been a lot of oral sex happening in this house since then.
Luckily,
a few weeks had passed since our last attempt, and I had repeatedly assured him
I was fully healed up now. I was certain that even if the sex did hurt a
little, it would still be worth it. I couldn’t understand couples that didn’t
consider sex an important part of a relationship. I never felt more complete,
more present, more alive than when my body and mind were entwined with
Jack’s.
I
smiled as I wrapped my arms around his waist. “I think I know just the place
for a proper throw down.”
He
wiggled his eyebrows. “Ooh. Tell me more.”
As
he leaned in to kiss me, my mother’s voice interrupted us.
“Are
you two making out again?” she said, standing at the top of the stairs with her
hands on her hips as she gawped at us. “Well, don’t let me stop you.”
Jack
laughed and I shook my head as we moved toward her.
“We’re
just trying to keep you entertained while you’re on vacation, Beth,” Jack said.
My
mother cocked an eyebrow. “If I wanted to watch porn, I’d open up your laptop
and have a look at your internet history.”
“Mom,
don’t be gross,” I protested, trying not to laugh.
Jack
smiled as he held out his elbow for my mom to grab hold as they descended the
stairs in front of me. “I made a special collection of links for you. They’re
in a folder labeled Tantric Geriatric. You’ll love it.”
I
rolled my eyes. Jack and my mother exchanged jabs like this all day.
My
mother was staying with us for a few days, so Jack and I could have some time
to ourselves and get some much-needed uninterrupted sleep. She was leaving
tomorrow to go back to the house where I grew up in Portland. Though she
pretended as if she was desperate to get home to her Craftsman cottage in the
city, and I even teased her about how she was dying to get back so she could
see the handsome new neighbor she’d been going on about, I knew she was going
to miss Jack’s pretend insults as much as she would miss Junior and me.
My
mother practically shoved me toward the front door. “I order you to go have
fun,” she said, smiling as Jack opened the door and stepped outside. “And don’t
come home until you’re too drunk to walk.”
I
shook my head. “Thanks, Mom. Please call if you need anything. And don’t answer
the door for anyone. There’s a house that got broken into a few streets away.”
She
waved off my paranoia. “Stop worrying so much. We’ll be fine. See you later,
babe.”
I
blew her a kiss, then I closed the door behind me.
* * *
“I
have to admit, having sex on the waterfront was one of my favorite public throw
downs ever,” Jack said, pulling his Tesla into the long driveway of our
four-acre estate. “But do we really have to wait until our fourth anniversary to
do it again?”
I
tugged the silky fabric of my skirt straight as I pressed my thighs together.
Though my body was still raw with the evidence of the dirty deed we’d just
committed, I couldn’t wait to get Jack inside and pounce on him again. I hadn’t
realized how much I missed the sensation of him moving inside me, and how good
he was at making me feel beautiful.
“We
can do that anytime we can snag a babysitter,” I replied as he turned the car
off.
He
made no move to exit the Tesla. “Well, babycakes, you’d better get ready to
interview a fuck-ton of babysitters.”
I
laughed. “Babycakes? That’s a new one.”
Jack
rarely used the same term of endearment twice in a row. He liked to keep me
guessing.
He
scrunched up his nose. “Yeah, that one was kind of creepy. Now that I’ve tried
it out, I think I can bury that one in the nickname graveyard.”
“Try
the incinerator,” I said, reaching for the door handle.
“Duly
noted,” he replied, exiting the vehicle.
Jack
and I glided unhurriedly along the flagstone walkway, which was lined with
sparkling pathway lights. As we made our way toward the steps leading up to the
covered porch, I stopped in the middle of the path and closed my eyes as I
inhaled the sweet scent of the lavender and honeysuckle I’d planted with my
mom’s help.
That
was when I made a wish, a corny wish, but I didn’t care.
I
wished that every person could find someone they loved as much as I loved Jack.
I wished every child could feel as loved as Junior was. And I wished every
anniversary could be as perfect as this one.
“No…
No, no, no!” Jack’s voice grew louder with each no.
They
say mother’s intuition is scientifically proven to exist. I knew by the tone of
Jack’s voice, without even opening my eyes, that my world would never be the
same. I knew in that instant, I would regret leaving Jack Jr. tonight for the
rest of my life.
Though
I knew something was wrong, I wasn’t prepared for what we found.
At
some point, while we were lost in our blissful celebration, the front door of
our home had been forced open. This discovery was what had made Jack cry out in
disbelief. Father’s intuition must also be a thing, because he told me later
that, even though the door was still closed, the moment he saw the gouges in
the wood near the handle, he had felt that same sense of dread. That feeling
that the universe had suddenly tilted on its side, discarding us into black
nothingness.
The
house was ransacked.
Furniture
upended, paintings and flatscreen televisions torn off the walls, shards of
shattered vases littered the floors. Complete and utter chaos.
The master bathroom doorknob looked as if it had
been shot off. We found my mother’s lifeless form huddled against the bathtub,
my baby boy’s dead body clutched tightly in her arms.
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