by Lisa De Jong
“How was your day, baby?” He watched for my reaction as he speared a piece of chicken and placed it into his mouth.
I really never had a bad day. Some were more stressful than others, but I had been given back my life, and I never let the small things skew that truth.
“Perfect.”
He grinned and shook his head, knowing exactly what I meant. He lived his life the very same way.
“Oh,” I sputtered through my full mouth, chewing and swallowing my food. “I talked to my mom today, and everyone’s coming out for the Fourth of July.” Mom came out to visit often, but Mark and my sister had only been here a few times. I couldn’t wait to have the house filled with all of my family. In the past three years, we had all become very close. That piece of me had been lacking for so long, and I now found I couldn’t go long without seeing them.
The only missing person had been my father. My chest tightened a little as I thought of him. Even though he had caused me so much pain, he was still my father, and I had been willing to forgive him. I had reached out on more than a few occasions, sending him an invitation to our wedding and cards with pictures of my family on every holiday. I had also left him numerous phone messages, trying to get in contact with him. He’d never replied.
When he’d died last year of a sudden heart attack, I’d had to accept I would never reconcile our relationship. As angry as I was at him for being so prideful and unwilling to allow us to come to terms with our past mistakes, I would never deny that his death had been a huge blow.
Daniel smiled and tightened his grip on my knee. “I can’t wait to see them too.”
It had taken Daniel a while to forgive Mom, but after they’d had several heart-to-hearts and hashed out their past differences, they’d accepted that they had both been guilty of harming the other. Once they had resolved them, though, they’d become impossibly close.
Andrew kept us entertained through the rest of dinner, making us laugh at every turn. His innocent insight into the world was something that left us feeling pure and hopeful for the future. Finished with dinner, Daniel rose to clear the dishes from the table and took them to the sink. “Why don’t you give Andrew his bath, and I’ll take care of these.”
I nodded, released the straps of Andrew’s chair, and drew Andrew into my arms. “You ready for your bath, pumpkin?”
Bathing him was hardly a chore. His little body was covered to his chest in bubbles and his face was my very light as he laughed and played in the warm water.
Every moment with him was a treasure.
My son.
Never would I forget Eva, my precious girl I knew only in my heart, but she was there, ever present and forever a part of me. My love for her would never diminish and Andrew would never take her place, but he’d completely filled the gaping hole in my heart that had been reserved only for him. I’d longed for him my entire life; I just hadn’t known it until he made his undeniable claim on my heart.
I massaged shampoo against his scalp and through his hair, carefully rinsing the suds away. I wrapped him in a towel, hugging him to me as I walked him to his room and dressed him for his night of sleep. I drew the covers down, and he crawled into his small bed.
Daniel appeared in the doorway, smiling at us. He snuggled in beside me, and we took turns reading our son his favorite poems. Andrew’s eyes drooped more and more with each rhyme we sang. When his lids began to flutter, I closed the book and leaned in, kissing him reverently on his forehead. “Goodnight, sweetheart.”
He yawned and rubbed his eyes with tiny fists. “Night, Mommy. Love you.”
“Love you too.”
Daniel scooted in, nuzzling Andrew’s neck before kissing him on the cheek. “Goodnight, little man.”
Nearing sleep, Andrew muttered, “Goodnight, Daddy,” through very tired lips.
We both stood and Daniel tucked him in, making sure he would be warm for the night. I switched off his lamp and flicked on his night-light.
Daniel and I lingered in his doorway, holding each other while we watched our son drift into a deep, restful sleep. His little body rose and fell with each breath he took. I spoke quietly against Daniel’s chest, “He’s so beautiful.”
Daniel drew me in, wrapping an arm around my waist. “Perfect.” He leaned in closer and whispered against my ear, “Just like you.”
His words brought a rush of heat, the fire ignited as his lips traveled from my ear to my mouth. Immediately, my body reacted to his touch. Every touch, every day, always the same. The need never dimmed.
He stepped back, pulling me into the hallway and pressing me against the wall. He held my face in his hands as he gazed down at me. His eyes filled with adoration and longing, his desire palpable in the energy traveling from his fingertips as they cupped the curve of my jaw.
His voice became rough as his need grew. “Melanie.” He crashed into me, mouth and hands and body and soul. He tugged and pulled at the collar of my shirt seeking more. I hummed against his mouth as I rushed through the buttons on his shirt, just as anxious to feel him as he was to feel me. No barriers.
He groaned, grasping my hand and dragging me across the hall to our room, quick to shut the door behind us. He rushed back to me, his kiss forceful. We shed our clothes as we danced our way across this sanctuary that was ours alone.
He wrapped me in his arms and spun us, sinking back onto the bed. His hands gripped my hips as he looked up to me, his gaze filled with intense love that would never lessen. Our connection was not one that could be severed or used up. Our souls were one as our hands and bodies became twisted and entwined, our own existence—a single creation.
He called through hushed breaths, “Melanie,” his rapture so much more than physical. “My love.” And I spoke his name, “Daniel.” A statement, a definition. My life.
I watched my husband, this beautiful man, his eyes drawing me deep into the currents that flowed where our souls met, to the place where we were healed, to the place where we were free. No longer was there the pain, the loss, the suffocating hurt. Now there was life and peace and contentment, all found in this flawless love. What we’d endured had cost us so much, so much I’d never thought I’d survive.
When I look back now, though, I would never change it. There had always been a reason, and I would never regret where the path had led.
Here, loved by this man, his body burning into mine, our spirits consumed by a fire that could never be quelled.
Here, where our son slept peacefully in the room across the hall.
Here, where we were home.
Here, where we’d been Pulled.
Unbreakable
A novel by
Rebecca Shea
Prologue
Eight months earlier
Jess
Being a wallflower is definitely not my style. I normally work the room: socializing, making the rounds—enjoying myself. I usually know everyone and am rarely the outsider. Yet, here I stand, pressed against the wall in the living room of a house that is too small for this many people. It’s Family Weekend at the University of Arizona, and we’ve come to see Gabe and watch his football game. Gabe is a junior and a wide receiver for the U of A football team.
I’m here for the weekend with the Garcias, since my dad is working. I normally stay with the Garcias, our neighbors in Santa Ruiz, when my father cannot be around because of his job. They have watched me for at least four days a week for the last thirteen years while my dad spent his time climbing the career ladder. Dad is the Fire Chief for the Santa Ruiz Fire Department—I’m very much an afterthought for him. The Garcias, Gabe’s family, have taken me in and accepted me as a member of their family.
As I try to look normal while holding a red Solo cup of Diet Coke, I sneak glances at Gabe while he moves around his house, entertaining the people who are here at his party. Ava — Gabe’s little sister and my best friend — is talking to Josh, one of Gabe’s roommates that she met on a previous trip to Arizona. Pulling my cell phon
e from my back pocket, I tap out a text message to Max, one of my friends at home.
What am I missing in Santa Ruiz?
Adrian and Me ;) How’s AZ?
Hot.
God, if he only knew what my interpretation of “hot” really meant.
I can’t imagine I’m missing much back home. The life of an honor-roll student in Santa Ruiz is about as exciting as watching paint dry, but normally Ava and I would be spending the evening with Max and Adrian, our two best “guy friends,” going to dinner or to the movies.
As I wait for Max to text me back, I find Gabe again in the sea of people. Some tramp is hanging on his arm and whispering in his ear. When I lean forward to get a better look, I feel the cold drink run down the front of me before an overly large man falls into me, pinning me against the wall.
“What the fuck!” I yell, trying to push him forward so I can breathe.
“Ah, sorry,” he says, laughing as he backs away.
I’m definitely out of my element here. The girls are gorgeous and hardly wearing any clothes while the boys are not really boys anymore, but men. And here I stand, in a corner, covered in an entire cup of cheap keg beer.
“Fucking great,” I mumble to myself, shoving my phone into my back pocket while tugging at my fitted white cap-sleeve t-shirt that now looks as if it has been painted on. My denim shorts are wet down the front too, so not only do I have a wet t-shirt, but it also looks like I’ve pissed myself.
“What happened?” Gabe is laughing when he takes in the sight of me drenched in beer.
“What does it look like?” I ask sarcastically, glaring at the beast of a man that dumped his drink down the front of me. Gabe grabs my hand and pulls me through the crowded living room and down a hallway. Pulling the keys from his front pocket, he unlocks his door.
“You have to lock your bedroom door?” I ask him.
“We all do. There are so many people in and out of here; I don’t want them messing with my shit,” he says, pulling me into his room and closing the door behind us.
The room is dark, the only light coming from the glow of a small desk lamp. Gabe hasn’t changed since he’s left home; his room is immaculate. There’s nothing on the floor, and even his desk is neat and orderly. He opens the closet door, pulls a navy blue t-shirt off a hanger, and hands it to me.
“Here, change into this,” he says, brushing past me. He sits down at his desk and begins checking his e-mail. I back away a bit more into the dark, turning around so my back is to him. I pull my wet t-shirt off of me, toss it to the floor, and pull the clean t-shirt over my head. It’s so big that it hangs past my cut-off jean shorts, and now it looks like I’m not wearing any bottoms. I can smell the laundry detergent on the shirt, but I can also smell the slightest hint of Gabe. I pull the collar of the shirt up just under my nose and inhale deeply. As I turn back around, I see that Gabe is sitting in his chair, watching me.
“You look good in my shirt,” he says quietly.
“Thanks for letting me borrow it.” I smile and chew on the inside of my bottom lip nervously. His hazel eyes shift to rake over me from head to toe. I fidget with the hem of his too long t-shirt, and my pulse starts racing. He continues to stare at me, not saying anything.
“What?” I ask him, tilting my head.
He pushes himself up from his chair and walks toward me, stopping to pick up my wet t-shirt. He stands up and inches closer to me so that we’re face to face. I can feel his warm breath sweep across my cheek. I smell his light cologne, or maybe it’s his body wash; whatever it is, its perfection.
“I missed you,” he whispers, our eyes never breaking contact. “I’m glad you came this weekend.”
“I missed you too,” I whisper back, swallowing hard. “It’s quiet without you at home.”
“Tell me how much you have missed me, Jess,” Gabe orders, causing a slight tremble to roll through my body. I can feel my pulse beating in the back of my throat, making it difficult to swallow. Before I have time to reply, Gabe’s nose presses against the side of mine, his lips mere millimeters from my mouth. I want so badly to just lean forward, to press my lips to his, but I’m too nervous.
“I’ve missed you . . . a lot,” I stutter quietly. With a slight lean, his soft lips press against mine and my head falls back just slightly. Gabe pulls my bottom lip into his mouth and gently sucks. My legs tremble as he moves his soft lips across mine and my stomach flips as he deepens his kiss. Pausing, he pulls away and holds my face with both of his hands. He looks deeply into my eyes, searching for unspoken desires. My heart races as my lips answer and I press my mouth to his, capturing the only thing I’ve ever wanted—him.
KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK!
“Jess, are you in there?” Ava yells through the door. The knocking startles me and Gabe walks over to the door and unlocks it.
“There you are,” she says, pushing past Gabe and entering the room. “I was looking everywhere for you.” She walks across the room, throws herself onto Gabe’s chair with a loud sigh, and scrunches her eyebrows together at the sight of me in Gabe’s t-shirt.
“Some asshole dumped an entire glass of beer down the front of my shirt, so Gabe let me borrow this,” I say, tugging at the oversized t-shirt.
“Well, it’s a good thing Mom and Dad are here now to get us, because you aren’t going to get laid looking like a bag lady.” She snorts, and I realize how ridiculous I look.
“Ava, don’t fucking joke around about that,” Gabe says, glaring at her.
“Relax, Gabe. Jesus,” she says, jumping out of the chair. “Miss Goody Two-Shoes wouldn’t give it up at a keg party anyway.” Ava rolls her eyes. “Give Jess her shirt. We need to go unless you want Dad in here, shutting down this shindig.”
Gabe hands me my wet shirt as Ava tugs me through his room. As I glance back over my shoulder, I see that he is standing next to his bed with his hands on his hips, and a small smile spread across his lips. Those lips will be my downfall.
Chapter 1
Jess
“What’cha reading?” he asks, jogging over to get the basketball that has rolled to my feet.
“Some romance series that everyone is raving about.” I use my hands to shield the front cover so he can’t see the picture or title.
I’m distracted by the sweat that’s rolling down his large, muscular frame, along his golden bare chest, and over every last curve of his perfect abdominal muscles to the fine dusting of dark hair just below his belly button. I swallow hard, then lose track of that little bead of sweat as it travels even lower. All of Gabe Garcia is perfection in my eyes—he is my Adonis.
“Any good?”
“Oh, ah…”
“The book, Jess. Is the book any good?” He’s laughing at me now. Shit.
I nod nervously and pull myself out of my Gabe-induced coma.
“Yeah, actually, it’s really good. Anything is better than text books.”
His hazel eyes look greener today as the sun is shining directly on his bronzed face. His eyelashes are long and accentuate his beautiful almond-shaped eyes, and his dark brown hair is a tussled mess from playing basketball.
“You might enjoy it more if you turned it the right way.” He laughs, picking up the basketball and dribbling it back to the five guys that are standing there waiting for him. I look at the book I’m holding in my lap. He’s right; I’ve been holding it upside down, as I’ve spent the better half of the last twenty-five minutes “pretending” to read it. Embarrassed that I’ve been caught, I toss my book into my large bag and fold the blanket on which I’ve been sitting. I glance over my shoulder and see him shooting free throws as I leave the park and walk down the street to his house.
I’ve known the Garcias since I was four years old. My dad moved us here to Santa Ruiz, California right after my mom died. He took a job as a firefighter and has made it his number one priority to work his way up the career ladder, literally, to become Fire Chief, which he finally made about five years ago. So while dad was bu
rying himself in his career, our neighbors, the Garcias, essentially raised me.
I’ve had a crush on Gabe since I was around fifteen. For the past few years, I’ve watched him date other girls, go away to college, come home and leave again. But last fall, on a visit for Family Weekend, something changed with us. We’ve never talked about that night, but the small glances, the touches here and there, tell me there’s something more.
As I walk up the driveway to the Garcias’ house, I realize this will be the last weekend that I will stay with them. Since Ava and I technically finished school yesterday, Dad made me a deal that I could start staying at our house alone when he was at work. After all, I’m eighteen, and it’s about time that he can trust his straight A honor student to take care of herself. Shit, I’ve been practically doing it for my entire life anyway.
“How was the park?” Angelica, Gabe’s mom asks as I enter the side door that opens into the kitchen.
“Hot,” I mumble, reaching into the fridge to grab a bottle of water.
“Yeah. It’s a warm one today. Don’t run until later, Jess; it’s just too hot right now.”
“I won’t. I’m going to take a quick nap and then run later.” I kiss her on the cheek as I move toward the stairs to take me to the bedroom that I share with Ava.
“Hey,” Ava says as I toss my bag onto our bedroom floor.
“Still working on your speech?” As valedictorian, Ava is speaking at Saturday’s commencement and has been obsessed with perfecting her speech. Truth be told; she could stand up there with nothing prepared and sound amazing; it’s just her nature. She’s personable, outgoing, and feisty.
“Yeah. How was the park?”
“Good until Gabe and the guys showed up. They were so loud I couldn’t concentrate on reading.”
I notice Ava isn’t even listening to me because she’s so wrapped up in writing her speech. Pushing the headphones from my iPhone into my ears, I turn the music on low and lie down on my bed. Closing my eyes, I try to fall asleep, but I all I can see is Gabe at the park: his eyes, the sweat, his bare chest—shit.