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“I’m fucking elated.” His hands are flying as he talks, animated and cheerful. “Seriously, no one has ever done what you did and lived to tell the tale.”
I blink at him. Silence. He’s still laughing and stops when I don’t say anything. After a moment, I lift my finger and confess, “I don’t think we’re talking about the same thing. ‘Live to tell the tale’ isn’t exactly flattering for you. I guess it’s accurate…sorta.” I snort a laugh and try not to smile.
Sean arches a brow at me. “Why, what are you talking about?”
“No,” I shake my head. “You tell me what you’re talking about first.”
He eyes me suspiciously. “Mother told me what you talked about last night. About you standing up to her. She said that you didn’t back down and traded secrets like a pro. She told me this morning that I found a good one, and not to fuck it up.” He laughs for a moment, then adds, “What were you talking about?”
I start laughing and do a faceplant onto the bed and instantly wish I hadn’t. I’m so sore. I chuckle into the sheets, instantly happier. He doesn’t know about the baby. I get to tell him. Elation and anxiety mingle together and bounce through my muffled laughter.
Sean lays across my back gently, careful not to crush me, and pulls my shoulder up in an attempt to see my face. “Avery, what’s so funny?”
“Besides the fact that your mom likes me?”
“Yes, although that’s a reason to smile.” He nuzzles a kiss against my neck and repeats, “Tell me your secrets, Miss Smith.” The warmth of his breath wisps over my ear as the scent of him fills my head.
I swallow hard, heart pounding, and glance over my shoulder at him. Those blue eyes are curious and lingering so close, with lips near enough to kiss. “Well, I have a secret.”
“I know you do.” The corners of his mouth tip up into a sexy grin.
“I’m not sure I want to tell you yet,” I tease, still smiling at him broadly. With a flick of my hand, I add, “I mean it’s pretty major.”
He tickles my neck with a seductive kiss. “All the more reason to share.” Stubble lines his face along with a nasty gash and bruise that runs up his arm to his shoulder. “Miss Smith, Avery, My Love—tell me.”
I press my lips together and then blurt out, “You’re going to be a daddy.” I catch my lower lip in my teeth as time stands still. The moment is surreal. Everything feels a million times louder, slower, and more colorful—more important.
His voice is soft, surprised, “Are you serious?” He pulls away to sit up. I roll over to watch him and the way his eyes seem to be filling with hope. “How do you know?”
“Yes, I’m serious. And I know because the doctor confirmed it.” More tension makes things intensify. After a nervous giggle, I add, “And I peed on a stick. It’s legit.”
His eyes are searching mine, looking for something he can’t find before they drop to my middle. When he glances up at me, he asks, “And it’s all right? You were hurt. Is he…?”
“She’s alright. I think it’s a girl.”
He smiles softly, in awe. “We’re having a baby?” I nod, and nerves lick the insides of my stomach. “We’re having a baby!” He shouts and grins at me, full wattage.
Sean leaps up and dances around the room, naked, forgetting himself for a moment. Contagious excitement bounces through the room as I sit on the bed and giggle. Sean dances like a leprechaun, kicking up his heels and swinging around the bedpost. All he needs is a green top hat.
Then he bounds onto the bed, pulling me closer to him and then takes my face in his palms. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”
“I tried. Stuff kept happening—”
His mouth is on mine, kissing me hard, smiling while he does it. “I love you. I am so crazy, fucking in love with you. You have no idea. None. I feel like my heart is going to explode with glitter.” He’s up on his knees and laughing. He takes my hands and stands us up in the middle of the mattress. “Do you see what you do to me?”
“I didn’t do this. You’ve always had the Lucky Charms guy living inside you. No wonder why you never talked to anyone. That seems a little bit cray cray, Sean.”
“Only good things come in green tights.” He barks a loud belly laugh.
“I’ve never seen you act like this. Has there really been a repressed happy guy in there all this time?” I place my hand on his heart.
His voice is deep, filled with mirth that’s warm and full. “I have no fucking clue, but it feels like I could do anything right now. Avery, my God…” He inhales sharply and jumps. When his feet hit the mattress, I fly upward. If the ceiling weren’t nearly twenty feet tall, I’d hit my head. We’re all giggles, holding hands, and laughing until there’s a loud crack at the foot of the bed and the bed frame snaps, making us topple over.
Sean, blue eyes glittering, leans over me. “I’m sorry, are you okay?”
“Yes, but you broke the bed. Your mom’s gonna kill you!” I tease before we deteriorate into laughter.
Then there’s a knock at the door and a voice asking if we’re all right.
Sean jumps up, grabs a robe, ties it, and throws open the door. Constance is standing there, bleary-eyed and hair a mess. “What on earth was that sound? The ceiling shook. Sean?” She meets her son’s eyes at the same time he grabs her shoulders, forgetting himself, and pulls her into a bear hug.
Sean releases his stunned mother a moment later. “I’m going to be a father and the baby is going to call you Grammy.” He waggles his eyebrows at her and then bounds down the hallway hollering, “I gotta tell Pete!”
I’m still sitting on the broken bed smiling after him, wearing one of Sean’s t-shirts. Constance glances at me. “I told you he was ready.” She hides a knowing smile before arching her eyebrow and looking at the bed. Then says, “I don’t want to know what you two were doing in here.”
“It’s not like that. Hey!” She’s gone, closing the door before I can explain.
Sean whoops from the end of the hall, his voice echoing back toward me. I’ve never seen him so happy, never heard that much inflection in his voice, ever. It’s as if his bindings finally broke free. If there was one thing holding Sean down, it was Sean Ferro. Joy eradicates fear, fries it up until there’s not a drop left. I saw the emotions splayed on his face, fighting for control. Today joy won and fear lost.
Today will be different, and I can’t stop smiling about it.
CHAPTER 22
The powdery sand clings to the soles of my feet as I pad down the long strip of beach. I adjust my sarong around my hips, tugging at the knot when the wind threatens to whisk it away. Sunglasses shield my eyes from the golden light as the sun reaches its apex in the cloudless azure sky. A sheet of turquoise water stretches past the horizon to my left. The occasional sandbar peaks out from the surface of the tranquil sea. Scattered palm trees surround the large home behind me. It’s the only house on the entire island.
This isn’t Manhattan. No, we left that world far behind. It’s not that I never want to see that place again—I do—it’s just that the one thing I wanted most was time alone with the people I love with no press badgering us. There’s a shit-ton of drama waiting for me when we get home. I’m the sole heir to the Campone empire, marrying into the Ferro family, and I survived the wrath of Vic Jr. One of those things would make me the talk of every paper and television show—but all three? That threw me into a frenzied media limelight. Constance shielded me as much as possible, but whenever we left the building, there were reporters in tow.
As more information came to light, it intensified. An increasing number of disturbing incidents involving my biological brother surfaced. Let’s just say I’m glad I went mental that night and fought like it was the end. If I hadn’t, if Vic had captured me instead—I wouldn’t have recovered. His hatred was aimed directly at me. He blamed me for everything. There wasn’t a rational thought left in that man’s mind.
As I sweep my toes through the sand, I wonder if I
changed that much. On this island, with no one but Sean, I have time to think. I don’t hide from my thoughts, which made them less turbulent as the days stretched into weeks.
Mom and Constance were here with us at first. Sean suggested escaping for a while, and Constance revealed she had a private island in the South Pacific. She described the house and the beach—said that there was an airstrip big enough to accommodate the jet. It was a chance to have some downtime and escape the tumultuous life that fell on our shoulders.
Mom was the first to agree to it. She lingered inside and at the infinity pool by the house. She did regular Mom things and cooked even though the home was fully staffed. The fridge was magically full of food and Mom prepared a feast that first day there. I think baking offered her some solace and gave her a place to vent her feelings. Just about every dish she made was thoroughly beaten with a meat tenderizer first whether it was needed or not.
Constance was either in the kitchen talking to Mom or on the pool deck. Although she always had a book or magazine in her hands, I rarely saw her reading. She watched the horizon most days, lost in thought. If Constance did that too long, Mom showed up and suggested a diversion. We all have to face our struggles alone, but we heal better together. The day before yesterday, they collected shells to take back to New York. Mom wanted to fill a jar with them. After a couple of weeks, they decided to return to life. Not that they were both fine now, but they’d had enough downtime and were ready to resume some semblance of normalcy. Sean and I lingered, staying behind.
As I approach the cabana, the gauzy curtains billow in the breeze. Sean is stretched out on a teak chaise with a newly acquired waterproof e-reader in one hand and the other tucked behind his head. His dark hair is damp, slicked back from his face. Those sapphire eyes are concealed by smoky sunglasses. A dusting of dark stubble lines his jaw. There’s an empty lounge chair next to him, topped with a fluffy white towel and a book that fell into the ocean one too many times. The pages are wrinkled, and making it appear to be more of an albino bat than a piece of bound literature.
