Page 48 of Property of Riptide
“Where do you want me to set him up for the night?” Rush asks. “I have the master bedroom and through an attached door there’s a nursery. I could put him in there if you’re comfortable with that.”
“That works for me as long as you set up his monitor,” I convey.
“Follow me,” he says, craning his head toward the stairwell. As we climb, I take note of the fact that we’re going to have to invest in baby gates. Gagey is already pulling himself up on things and attempting to walk. I can picture him tumbling down and cracking his head at the bottom.
“We’re going to need to baby proof… everything,” I advise him, stumbling over my words. “This staircase is a hazard.”
“We’ll make a list in the morning and send a couple of the prospects out to pick everything up from the store. Until then, we’ll just keep him with us. There’s a secondary living room up here that I’d like you to check out and see if it’d be a good toy room for him.”
“He doesn’t need anentireliving room to store his stuff, Rush. His toys fit in his room back at our old place,” I state.
As he leads me into the master bedroom, he twirls around, raises his brows, and asks, “You do remember Icer and the last time he bought things for little man, right?”
“Uh huh,” I mutter.
“It’s only going to get ten times worse than that now that we’re back home, Van. Indiana plans on talking Zoey into giving up her lease and building a house big enough to hold all of Elodie’s new stuff because they’re running out of room.”
“I was hoping that was a one and done thing,” I acknowledge. “Gagey is growing so fast that most of his things will have to be donated soon. I don’t like Icer spending that kind of money on him to only have to bag it up in a few months and drop it off at a shelter.”
“You take things to shelters instead of consignment shops?” he asks.
“I do,” I confirm. “Preferably a battered woman’s shelter. Those women and kids go to shelters seeking sanctuary with nothing more than the clothes on their backs. It feels good to know that the things I’m giving away go to a meaningful cause.”
“We donate ten percent of our income to the local woman’s shelter in town.” He walks into the attached room and beginssetting up the playpen. When it’s up on its feet and the enclosure is locked into place, he walks over to the closet and pulls out a fluffy, thick comforter, putting it inside then winding a flat sheet around it, tucking it beneath the hard mat.
My heart melts at the effort he’s putting into making the cot comfortable enough for Gagey to get a good night’s rest. I bounce on the balls of my feet, rocking my boy because he’s getting restless in my arms as he tries to stretch out.
“It’s ready,” he says, coming over to me and lifting Gagey from my arms. He shuffles over to the bed doing some sort of bounce and dip step as he walks.
I follow him over and before he lowers my boy into his bed, I place a soft, gentle kiss on his forehead. Once Gagey is settled, Rush lifts his baby blanket from the stack of things off to the side and lays it over him.
“Thank you,” I say, reaching out for his hand. When he places his palm into mine, electricity flows from him and into me like a shot through the heart. It sends tingles running up and down my spine—the good kind, not the creepy kind. “Did you feel that?”
“I did,” he affirms. “Never felt anything like it before. I bet we’re magical between the sheets.”
“Sparks are gonna fly,” I tease as nervous energy surges through me.
“Why did you just get tense, Van?”
“It’s been a while for me, Rush. And before Gage, I had only had one previous sexual experience with a man,” I disclose. “Before him, it was teenage fumbling’s. I’m not very experienced, mostof what I know comes from my time with Gage. What if I disappoint you because I’m lacking?”
“You could never be lacking, Van,” he scolds. “We let our bodies do the talking for us and let our minds take a break. It’s when you overthink things, instead of simply feeling, that you get caught in a web of what if’s and should I’s.”
Feeling ballsy, I say, “Show me, teach me what it’s like to let go, Rush.”
“It’d be my pleasure,” he says, his voice coming out scratchy and full of lust. He lifts me off my feet and carries me bridal style to the bed. When his knees hit the mattress, he slowly lowers me down, hovering over me. “First step, we need to rid you of your clothes.”
“That’s a great beginning point,” I purr, the sound escaping my chest shocking me.
“Then, we’re going to get into the shower to wash the road off,” he continues, which has my heart racing.
He’s going to see me naked. In the shower. Not in the dim lighting of his bedroom.Allof my body insecurities are coursing through me right now. The slight pooch from having Gagey. The jiggly thighs because my high intensity workouts have devolved into walks in the park pushing Gagey’s stroller. I might like myself just fine, but the first time jitters have me in their grasp.
“Whatever has that little frown on your face needs to go away,” he instructs. “You’re probably worrying about shit that doesn’t fucking matter, Van, aren’t you?”
“Well, yeah,” I retort in a ‘duh’ tone. “What woman wouldn’t when presented with a man who looks the way you do? I cannot compare to anyone you’ve ever been with before.”
“There’s no comparison, sweetheart. You wanna know why? Because those encounters were for a release. This is something entirely different. Me claiming you means that as far as my world’s concerned, you’re it for me and vice versa. While I plan to put my rings on your finger and babies in your belly, you being my old lady carries far more weight. Because I already see us many years from now, older, with gray hair and wrinkles, as we watch our grandchildren playing. And trust me, I don’t plan to work out then like I do now, so I’ll likely have what the younger generation is calling a dad bod or some shit.”
