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Oooh, she used my full name. I’m in trouble now, but can’t help poking the beast.
“Do you even own a bra?”
“Yes,” she replies in a tone that resembles Bhodi with a chip on his shoulder.
Her answer makes my brow arch.
I want to see this bra. Is it silky? Flexible so that I can pull the lace cups down and feast on Holly? Or will the fabric scratch my skin while I fuck her? Inquiring minds never realized, when your woman doesn’t wear lingerie, what I goddamn turn-on it is thinking about her wearing it.
I grab Holly around the waist, cupping her lush denim-covered ass, and drawing her lower half straight to mine. I’m as unashamed of the rock-hard wood I’m sporting as she is about showing me what God gave her.
If some neighborhood perv has been watching her, they can look all they want. I’m not freaked that anyone’s staring at her chest. Holly’s gorgeous and, if she caught my eye, she’s definitely someone else’s wet dream.
“I’d love to see you in that bra.Nothing but it.”I whisper, wiping a tiny sweaty curl off of her brow. “I missed you.”
Holly sighs into me, wrapping her soil-stained arms around my neck and leaning her forehead on my shoulder like I’m an anchor. She smells like she’s been out here for hours. The fragrance is a mix of sod, flowers, and the scent of our bodies when I’ve ridden her hard.
“How was New York?” she murmurs.
“I’ll tell you and Davina about it at dinner. Right now, my mother is calling for her favorite bartender.”
Holly snorts. It’s the first time tension has left her body. Dampness soaks my shoulder. She turns her face from me, brushing wetness off of her cheeks.
I cup her face. Fat tears brim in her eyes. Uncontainable, they tumble down, connecting with my knuckles. The awareness that these are not tears of joy is overpowering.
“Hey, I’m back. It’s okay,” I say with my heart in my throat.
“It’s not okay, Cary. I got served today. William left his wife. He’s back in North Carolina and he wants visitation until the court grants him custody.”
It’s then that I see the manila folder sitting inside an empty plant pot. It is dirty with black fingerprints, as if Holly has read and reread the legal documents trying to make sense of them. The papers have been shoved back inside—by someone who is beyond frustrated.
Large pruners, twigs, and full limbs filled with beautiful blooms lie on the ground not too far away. I have a sneaking suspicion Davina left Holly out here to work out a little aggression. My mom understood my fiancée needed a little peace and quiet to reflect on her troubles.
“Joint custody or full?” I growl, not at all liking where this is going.
“It says joint, but I don’t know. William’s also petitioning for me to pay him child support.”
“How can he—He hasn’t even paid his fair share!” I roar in disgust.
Holly shrinks and I catch her belt loop, drawing her back before she can make that cavern between us too wide.My wife. Mine.My family.He forfeited.
Holly’s shaking her head like it’s all unbelievable. She’s breaking down, and I’m goddamn livid on her behalf.
“Look at me.” I grab her chin between my thumb and forefinger, forcing her red-rimmed eyes to meet mine.
Those lovely black wings she paints around her lids have gone missing. She’s cried alone amongst the flowerbeds that held so many promises of better days ahead.
A sorrowful expression has replaced the one that must have been sheer anger. Holly’s regrets are like sharp, evil spades, cutting into her roots and tearing her to shreds.
She’s already mourning the things that haven’t even happened between us; our marriage, our babies, our future. The picket fence and the suburbs and the summer vacations in the Outer Banks. Bhodi’s graduation from prep school. Everything that filled her heart with hope. All the dreams she’d given up when William Mayer cast her aside. Every one that bloomed anew and even bigger when we met.
“I’m so tired, Cary.” She cries, snapping her head away. “I’m so tired of this!”
Holly throws a trowel I hadn’t realized was in her hand. It smashes against a ceramic pot, shattering the side. In frustration over breaking something that wasn’t hers to begin with, she shucks her gloves, flinging them onto the lawn.
The fight’s not gone from her.
“I know, Doll.”
