âHow in the world did you close so fast?â my mother inquires, pouring herself a glass of water. âIt takes months in North Carolina.â
âThe condo was vacant, with a motivated seller. I already had my pre-approval, so smooth sailing.â On something, at least.
My mother leans over, squeezing my hand. âIâm so proud of you. Youâve done so well for yourself.â
âThanks, Mom. My folks were pretty supportive,â I reply with a wink.
âI wish you could build a time machine and travel back to tell your teenage self those words.â She taps the butcher block counter, sending me a pointed glance. âIâm thrilled Tally is still part of your life. I told you it wouldnât be a big deal when she found out youâre a doctor.â
Oh, Mom, if you only knew.
My mother, being my mother, has inspected every inch of the condo, and itâs garnered her seal of approval. âThree bedrooms. Plenty of room, should you need it.â
Itâs no secret that my mother wants grandchildren, and as her only son, sheâs champing at the bit. âThatâs what I was thinking.â
âIs there something you want to tell me?â
âMom, I canât even get Tally to live here, and trust me, itâs a step up.â I grimace at my words, offering a sheepish smile. âThat sounded terrible. Her apartment isnât bad, and her landlord is a lovely woman, but the neighborhood has gone downhill over the years. Itâs not the safest location, and I want her safe.â
My mother cocks her head. âDonât nurses make a good living down here?â
âThe pay is decent, but thatâs not the issue. She spends $3500 per month on a memory care facility for her father. Thereâs not a ton left over after she pays his bills. I can help foot those expenses.â
âDonât be a saviorââ she raises her hand, halting my argument. âTally doesnât seem to be a woman whoâs looking for charity.â
âItâs not charity. Itâs love.â
She sighs, a grin playing on her mouth. âWhat have you done with my son? I never thought Iâd live long enough for you to want to settle down.â
âI was engaged, Mom,â I remind her.
âYes, but you never made it down the aisle.â
âThank God. Itâs different with Tally, though. Everything is different with her.â
My mother pulls out an envelope, sliding it in my direction. âSpeaking of your ex-fiancée, Charlotte sent this to me. She claimed she didnât have your address in Florida.â
Christ, another headache I donât need. âWhat does she want?â
âI donât know, dear. I may be a mother, but Iâm not that nosey.â
âYeah, right,â I laugh, tearing open the envelope. The letter is written in Charlotteâs elegant penmanship. That, like everything else about the woman, has been curated to perfection.
âCold as ever,â I mutter, tossing the letter on the counter.
âShe always was the ice queen,â my mother adds.
Sheâs not wrong. Charlotte is a gorgeous and wealthy socialite, but years of training in the social graces have left her hard and unfeeling. Thereâs nothing behind the mask.
âAre you going to call her? I doubt sheâll relent until you do.â
I release a resigned sigh. âCharlotte is used to getting what she wants in life.â
âAnd now, she wants you back.â Itâs my motherâs turn to sigh. âYou arenât considering reconciliation, are you? Itâs your life, butââ
I pull my mother into a hug, chuckling at her horrified expression. âDonât worry, Mom. No such intentions.â
âGood. I like Tally.â
âI love her.â
Her hand cups my face as she kisses my cheek. âI know. Itâs written all over you.â
Tally insists on meeting us at the restaurant. She claims she has to run by the womenâs shelter, but I know itâs a load of crap. Sheâs still hesitant about the idea of us together in public. I have no idea what her ex did to her, but it certainly screwed with her head.
Now, Iâm paying the price. Not that it matters. Sheâs worth it.
Despite our shaky relationship status, this dinner is far more relaxed than the first oneâat least for me. Tally looks as if sheâs about to lose her lunch.
âDarlin, are you okay?â I lean over, giving her a reassuring back rub.
Tally offers a small smile. âIâm sorry. My stomach hasnât been great for the last few days.â
âI think I have something for that.â My mother digs into her suitcase of a purse, pulling out some antacid. âHere you are, my dear. I know you donât feel well, but you look beautiful. Youâre glowing.â
My motherâs words hit like a fist as my gaze returns to Tally.
She glowing. The woman is always beautiful, but lately, sheâs had this ethereal quality about her.
The thought hits hard and fast. I wait for the internal freakout, but it never arrives. Instead, I smile at the idea of my tiny vixen carrying my child.
âHey, try not to look so happy about my nausea,â Tally teases, grabbing a roll from the basket.
I surprise her with a kiss to that gorgeous mouth. âIâm smiling because my mother is right; you look beautiful.â
She chuckles, waving her handâand the complimentâoff, but I see the slight bloom across her cheeks.
âTally, I noticed that you havenât moved into the condo yet.â
Thanks, Mom. Nothing like prodding an already agitated woman.
âThere was a change of plans,â Tally murmurs, her eyes focused on the butter dish.
âYou mean my son neglecting to tell you heâs a doctor?â She pats Tallyâs hand, sending her a reassuring smile. âI disapproved of Owen keeping the truth from you. I knew it was a bad idea, but he is a good man, and Iâm glad you forgave him.â
Not so certain about that, Mom.
Why do I take part in these dinners? Without fail, they veer into uncomfortable territory before the appetizers hit the table.
Tally sets down her roll and butter knife, her smile wavering. Iâm not sure if itâs her nausea or anger at my motherâs assumptions, but Iâm praying itâs the first. The last thing I need is Tally mad at me. Again. âI guess to most people, it makes little sense. Owen is the complete package. I told him on our first date that they broke the mold after him. I still stand by that assertion.â She rubs her brow, and I clasp her free hand, trying to offer whatever reassurance I can. âMy reasoning sounds so silly when I say it aloud. Doesnât it?â
âNo, dear. He betrayed your trust, and trust is a valuable commodity. I know you have issues trusting people, and his betrayal only cemented that concept. But, in Owenâs defense, I need to say one thing. This man loves you more than Iâve ever seen him love anyone.â
Usually, I would be mortified at my motherâs public declaration. This time, I hope that her statement resonates with Tally, driving my words home to her heart.
I miss her, the Tally I met that night at Wicked Chucks. I fell immediately. She was everythingâbeautiful, smart, sarcastic, funny as hell. Crazy about me, too. This version of Tally is hesitant, uncertain, her heart surrounded by a thick wall to prevent any additional pain.
This Tally wonât let me in, and Iâve no one to blame but myself.
She doesnât respond to the declaration about my love. I guess sheâs not ready for that yet, but I note the smile crossing her face. At least her heart hasnât canceled out the option.
âIâm sure I donât have to tell you this, but your son is a genius. Honestly, heâs the best doctor Iâve ever worked alongside, and Iâve worked with my share. Heâs brilliant in his diagnostics, calm in his approach, he thinks outside the box, and heâs unflappable under pressure. Not to mention that heâs exceedingly kind to patients and staff.â She sends me a wink. âDoesnât hurt that heâs damn easy on the eyes, either.â
Tally may be unsure about any public displays, but at that moment, I donât give a ratâs ass. I lean over, wrapping my hand around her nape and pulling those delicious lips to mine. I donât care that my mother is watching; I donât care if the pope is watching. I slide my tongue along her lower lip, begging entrance to the most talented mouth Iâve ever known.
After a secondâs tension, her lips part, and I feel her shiver beneath my palm. I maintain an easy rhythm, caressing her tongue with my own. For a few moments, I forget that anyone exists beyond the two of us. I melt into her, begging without words for her to return to me.
Tally didnât state outright that sheâs in love with me. Her declaration was so much more than that, and she needs to know I feel the same way about her. Sheâs my perfection.
Pulling back, I chuckle as Tally wipes a bit of her gloss off my lips. Her cheeks flame pink, and sheâs the epitome of everything adorable in this world, wrapped up in a sexy, edible package.
âSo much for keeping it on the down-low,â she mumbles, but I donât detect any hostility in her voice.
âI told you I wasnât in favor of that approach,â I volley back, earning a full-fledged grin from my tiny vixen.
âYour motherââ Tally argues.
âIs fine, with everything.â My mom takes another bite of her salad, a bemused smile on her lips. I guarantee the woman is planning table arrangements for our wedding. In her book, we canât march down the aisle fast enough.
The rest of dinner passes in jovial conversation, complete with a few tales about my first few weeks at Memorial. My head wonât fit through the door to the restaurant, thanks to all the accolades the two women shower on me, but Iâd be lying if I said I didnât love every second.
Iâm used to my mother bragging on me. Hell, sheâs a mom. Thatâs what they do. But to hear Tally sing my praises? Thatâs sexy as fuck.
Just saying, if Tally told me to go down on her at the table, I wouldnât say no. Hell, licking her pussy is tempting without her saying a word. Iâm addicted to that womanâs body, something else I donât think sheâs used to experiencing.
âNightcap at the condo?â I ask, shooting Tally a warning look as she pulls out her wallet to pay the bill. âYour money is no good here. Iâm treating my two favorite ladies to dinner.â
âLet me leave a tip,â Tally insists, pulling out far more than the standard twenty percent.
I cover her hand. âIâve got it, Darlin. You keep your money.â A few moments pass before Tally concedes, slipping her wallet back into her purse.
Itâs ironic. Charlotte has scads of money. She has millions in trust funds, but never once opened her wallet. On those rare occasions we spent together in public, she expected me to pick up every tab. Every single time. Meanwhile, Tally has littleâif anythingâsaved, but offers to pay without hesitation.
My tiny vixen is a class act. âCome on. You can help me select some furniture. The condo is eerily empty. It needs your touch.â
Tally shakes her head. âAs much fun as it sounds to spend your money, I have to get home. Iâm working tomorrow.â
I narrow my eyes in confusion. âYou are?â
âYes, I have some reports to file, implementing ideas that a certain recent addition to our staff mentioned.â
âDarlin, it can wait until Monday. Enjoy your time off.â
âI want to do it. Your ideas are brilliant, and I want the staff and patients to feel the ramifications of the changes as soon as possible.â
God, I adore her. Sheâs as dedicated to her work as I am. âCanât you come by for a little while? You havenât even seen the condo since I moved in.â
Tally presses her lips to my cheek. âIâll see it soon. Promise.â She stands, but hesitates, her fingers gripping the edge of the table as she wobbles.
Iâm on my feet, my arm around her waist. âAre you okay?â
She nods, waving off my concern. âIâm fine. I stood up too fast, got a bit dizzy.â She swings her smile between my mother and me. âI promise, Iâm okay.â
I help my mother into my car before walking Tally across the lot. After seeing her old car again, I blurt, âWeâre taking you car shopping.â
âI canât afford a new car, Owen. She looks ragged, but sheâs reliable.â She pats the roof of the old sedan, not meeting my gaze, and my stomach flips. I embarrassed her, which is the last thing I want to do.
Time to make it right. âI can afford one. You deserve a new car, and this old gal deserves a well-earned retirement.â
âIâm not letting you buy me a car.â
âIâll buy you one, anyway.â I expect a smile, but she scowls, instead. Wonderful, Iâve stepped in it again. âDid I say something wrong?â
â
offered to buy me a car, after everything he did to me. What did he call it? Oh yes, a parting gift.â She pulls her keys from her purse, her hands trembling. âI told him where he could shove his parting gift.â
âTally, Iâm not him.â
âI know, butââ
âBut what?â
She throws up her hands, her eyes bright. âWhy do you want this? You know my situation now, just as I know yours. Iâm broke. My money goes to care for my Dad. I canât afford the lifestyle youâre used to. Hell, I ordered a salad because I couldnât afford the meal.â
I grab her to me, anger flashing through my brain. Iâm tempted to march her ass back inside and order one of everything on the menu for her. âDonât you do that again, Tally. You order whatever you want.â
âItâs not fair. I canât contribute at places like this. Hell, Iâm barely able to cover an extra round of brews at Wicked Chucks.â
âLetâs make a deal, Darlin. We take care of each other. I ensure that you are happy and healthy and loved. You, in turn, grant me unlimited access to this body.â
I push her back against the car, my dick springing to attention as it nestles against her curves. If she had parked the car in a dark corner, Iâd hike this little black skirt up to her waist and slide inside her, showing her just how much she contributes. It would be worth a night in jail to hear her scream my name.
âI knew it was going to come back around to sex,â she jokes as I claim her mouth.
âHad to happen eventually.â I press kisses against her throat, knowing Iâll have one hell of a hard-on by the time Iâm through.
âWhoâs going to ensure that youâre happy and loved, Owen?â
I slide my hands up her thighs, palming her delectable peach. âItâs a guarantee when Iâm with you.â
âGood answer,â she laughs, rewarding my statement by pressing her body closer.
I stage a one-sided internal argument before asking the next question, but I need to vocalize it. âTally, can I ask you something?â
âNo, we cannot have sex in the parking lot.â
âDamn.â I press my forehead to hers, feeling that inner fire smoldering beneath her skin. âIf youâre pregnant, youâll tell me, right? You wouldnât hide that from me, would you?â
She pulls back, her eyes wide. âItâs just a stomach bug.â
Sheâs trying to reassure me, now itâs my turn to reassure her. âLikely, but we werenât very careful, Darlin.â
Tally snorts. âYou mean careful? Is that what you mean? I blame you. Totally your fault. You shouldnât be this good-looking. I canât be held responsible for my actions, such as ripping off your clothes or dry-humping your leg.â
âIâll take the blame,â I reply with a grin.
âWeâll be careful from now on,â she offers, pressing her mouth to mine.
I get it. Some will say itâs not the smartest route. But Iâm clean, sheâs clean, and Iâm not a twenty-year-old delinquent. That, and Iâm obsessed with Tally. Knocking her up is not my definition of hardship.
âWeâll see.â Thatâs as close to a concession as sheâll get. Besides, all this sex talk is sending my dick screaming into overdrive.
âIf we donât take precautions, then youâll keep worrying about it.â
âIâm not worried about it.â Itâs the truth.
âOkay.â With a last kiss, she shoos me back, sliding into the driverâs seat.
Good to her word, she texts when she arrives home.
I chuckle to myself, tossing the phone on my nightstand. âIâm not worried, Darlin. Just some wishful thinking.â