Finding Forgiveness: Second Chance Romance/Enemies to Lovers, page 23
I hold up my hand and wiggle my fingers, showing off the massive rock I’m now sporting before reaching for the glass of champagne in front of me and raising it in the air.
My attention ping-pongs between Jacinta and Connor.
“Not only will I officially become your sister, Jazzie, but I’ll also finally get something I’ve yearned for since I was a little girl—to be part of a real family, and the best one in the world—a Maloney!”
I may say the last word too loudly, with a lot of emotion, and fist pump the air, but that knowledge has my heart swelling to a point where it’s in danger of busting out of my chest and spraying little chunks of my heart all over the guests.
My eyes move back to the piece of paper in my hand.
“Jacinta, you are my best friend, you are my ride or die forever and I love you more than words can ever say. May your troubles be less, your blessings be more, and nothing but happiness come through your door. A toast to laughter, love and a happily ever after.
“To Mason and Jacinta.”
“To Mason and Jacinta,” the guests repeat.
She stands and hugs me a little too tight for my liking. “I’d be sleeping with one eye open tonight if I were you,” she whispers.
“Oh please, I’ve heard all about those nympho pregnancy hormones of yours. You’re going to be too busy riding that big hunk of man meat to worry about me.”
“Princess,” Connor says, reaching for my hand across the centre console. “Why are you still crying?”
I dab the tissue under my eyes. “I’m so emotional right now, Con. It was that stupid farewell circle at the end of the wedding that did me in. Saying goodbye to my best friend like that, ripped my damn heart out. I can tell you one thing, that circle is banned from our wedding.”
“You do realise she’s still your best friend, right?”
I flick my hand at him as I push my head further back into the seat. “You don’t understand, everything is changing, Con, who knows when I’ll get to see her again.”
“You’re going to see her in the morning, Cass,” he says, chuckling as he tightens his grip on my hand. “Have you forgotten we agreed to meet up with them for breakfast before they leave for their honeymoon?”
“Exactly. Right before she gets on a plane and leaves the country being the operative word here.”
“What exactly was the operative word in that sentence?”
I count them out in my head. “The first eleven.”
He barks out a laugh before pulling our conjoined hands to his face. “She’ll be gone two weeks,” he says, placing a kiss on my knuckles.
“She’s a wife now, and in seven months she’s going to be a mum … she’ll be busy, and have no time for me anymore.”
“Technically, she’s already a mum to Blake, and she still has time for you now.”
“Blake’s all grown up … he’s practically self-sufficient.”
“He’s six, Cass.”
“Still … babies take up a lot of time.”
“Do you know what you do if that happens?”
“What?”
“You get in the lift, go up to their floor, and sit with her … help her, I know she’d appreciate it.”
“I can so do that,” I say, smiling.
“There you go, problem solved.”
I turn in my seat to face him. “There is another layer to my sadness.”
“And what’s that?”
“She’s not a Maloney anymore … she’s a Bradley now, and that makes me so sad,” I tell him as a few more tears leak from my eyes.
“Irrelevant. The name change means nothing, she’ll always be a Maloney deep down.”
I gasp. “When we get married, I want to be a full Maloney … like all the way down to my bone marrow.”
He glances at the watch on his wrist. “In roughly ten minutes, when we reach our apartment, I can guarantee you’ll be full of Maloney … namely me.”
Despite my despair, that knowledge has me smiling. “I like the sound of that.”
As soon as we step through the front door, Connor is all over me like a rash. He backs me against the wall and crashes his mouth to mine. By the time we finally come up for air, I’m feeling dizzy. He immediately spins me around until I’m facing the wall.
“You’ve been driving me crazy, swishing that sexy arse of yours around all day in this dress.” Reaching for the zipper in the back, he slowly drags it down. “I’ve been trying to imagine what you’ve got on underneath, but I can guarantee the reality is far more alluring than what my brain can conjure up. Fuck,” he groans when he pushes the straps off my shoulders and the gown pools around my feet. I’m left standing here in nothing but my high heels and matching skimpy, pink lace G-string and strapless bra.
His big, strong hands slide around my waist and splay out on the bare skin of my abdomen. He’s suddenly walking us backwards until we reach the sofa. I’m abruptly spun around again and bent over the arm as his hand travels down between my legs.
“Here’s what’s going to happen,” he growls as he fumbles with the belt on his trousers. “I’m going to fuck you hard and fast, right here, and then I’m going to carry you to our bed, and make love to my fiancée.” His fiancée. Boy, do I love the sound of that. Grasping the bun at the nape of my neck, he tugs my head back. That movement is so hot I’m pretty sure I just experienced a mini ‘O’. I like the way he manhandles me. “How does that sound?”
“Like a really good plan,” I whimper.
He chuckles and the metal part of his belt jiggles as he lets it go and drags down his zipper. The sound has my anticipation at fever pitch. I moan the second his hands are back on me. He grasps my underwear, but instead of dragging them down my legs like I’m expecting, he tears them straight from my body.
“Such a shame,” he murmurs. “They were so pretty too.”
“I have others just like them,” I inform him, because my ruined underwear is the least of my worries right now.
He takes a step forward and uses his knee to part my legs further. I bite my lip to stifle my moan when he slides the head of his dick back and forth through my arousal. “Always so wet for me,” he mumbles under his breath. On his next swipe, he pushes the tip inside. “So fucking tight.” His fingers clutch my hips so hard the tips dig into my skin.
He leans forward and groans in my ear as he thrusts inside me, all the way to the hilt. “I’ve been thinking about what you said in the car,” he says as he slowly draws back to the tip before propelling back in. My mind is so drunk on him and the way he makes my body feel, his words hardly register. “When you’re ready … this is completely your decision, Cass,” he clarifies before continuing, “I want you to stop taking the pill.”
He stills his movements when I glance at him over my shoulder. “You do?”
“Yes, but like I said, when you’re ready. There’s no pressure from me. And before you say it’s too soon—that we’re moving too fast—this has been six years in the making … six fucking years. If I could marry you tomorrow and fill you with all my babies, I would.”
I nibble on my bottom lip to hide my smile as I make a mental note to throw my birth control away in the morning because he’s right. Six years is a long time. “Okay.”
“That’s all you’ve got to say?”
“Right now, yes. Can you get back to fucking me please?”
He grins at me all smug-like, which is a look that’s so sexy on him. “Your wish is my command, Princess.”
Chapter 29
Connor
I remove the key from the lock on the front door and reach for the knob. Once I’ve pushed it open, I move to the side to allow Logan to enter first. Cass and I are flying down to Melbourne tomorrow for Amanda Lewis’s committal hearing, which is starting at the end of the week. It will determine whether the prosecution has enough evidence for a conviction if we go to trial, which we do.
It’s been five months since she was first arrested, and during that time, we’ve been working tirelessly alongside the prosecution. I want them to throw the book at this woman. She deserves to spend the rest of her days rotting in prison for her crimes, because she gave her daughter a life sentence when she committed that vial act.
I met up with Logan this afternoon, and after expressing my concerns to him, he wanted to touch base with Cassandra before we leave, hence why he’s here now. She’s nervous about having to get up on the stand and face her mother once again, but she understands it’s a necessary evil. It’s all part of the process, unfortunately.
He takes a few steps inside the apartment before pausing; I’m not expecting him to stop, so I run straight into his back.
When I hear a loud thud from inside, followed by Cassie’s scream, I immediately shove him to the side. That’s when I see my poor fiancée crouched down on the floor wearing nothing but an itty-bitty scrap of red satin underwear, matched perfectly with those plump lips of hers, and the sky-high heels on her feet. There’s a spilt bottle of beer lying on the wooden floor beside her.
Even with her body curled up into a ball, and those large, terrified, caramel-coloured doe eyes, she looks like a damn wet dream.
The first thing I do is smile, realising she must’ve been waiting to greet me when I got home in nothing but that tiny piece of satin. Part of me wants to shove Logan back out the door so I can continue this fantasy.
Last week I came home to find her prepping dinner in the kitchen. Her back was to me, and she was wearing this sexy pleated miniskirt. When I stalked across the room and flipped it up, I found that exact thing underneath. Her round, peachy arse was made to showcase that type of underwear and it gave me an instant boner.
“One day I want to come home and find you wearing nothing but these,” I groaned, while palming her cheeks. I guess my sweet girl was granting my wish, she just picked the worst possible time to do it. One of the many things I adore about this woman is the way she loves me. Neither of us takes what we have for granted because we went through hell to get here.
Logan’s back is now turned, which I appreciate. “Princess,” I say, taking a step in her direction. Only then does the shock of what just happened wear off, because she leaps to her feet and bolts towards our bedroom.
“Do you want me to go?” Logan asks, looking just as embarrassed as Cassie did.
“No, give me a minute though,” I answer, crossing the room and heading in her direction, ignoring the spilt puddle of beer as I pass.
By the time I make it to the room, she already has a suitcase on the bed and is throwing things into it. Is it wrong that I take a moment to appreciate her? Because fuck me, she’s perfect.
“Cass,” I say, approaching her. “What are you doing?”
“Packing.”
“Why?”
She stops, turning to face me, and that’s when I see the tears brimming in her eyes. “I have to leave, Con.”
“You are not going anywhere,” I grumble, sliding my arms around her tiny waist and drawing her closer.
“I don’t have a choice, my life as I knew it is ruined.”
I roll my lips. “It’s not ruined, Princess.”
“It is! I just showed my boss’s husband my tits. I have to quit my job … I’ll never be able to show my face in public again. The only choice I have is to move away,” she rambles. “I know Martha will take me in. I can spend the rest of my days living in obscurity on the farm.”
We’ve returned to Mudgee three times for a secluded weekend away. That place has grown on me, or maybe it’s just because Cass loves it there. The first time we flew down to collect Cassie’s car—the plane was small, and the turbulence was a nightmare. I wasn’t a fan. It was a quick fifty-minute trip, but it’s not something I’d do again in a hurry.
We’re back to driving, but we leave straight after work on Fridays. It’s late when we get there, but this way we get to spend all of Saturday and most of Sunday at the farm. We are planning an extended stay after Christmas since the courts close down until mid-January. Martha is always happy to see us and has said we’re welcome to come whenever we like.
My hands move to cup Cassie’s face, tilting it back so I can make eye contact. Her cheeks are now as red as her lips, so I lean in and brush her mouth with mine before saying, “You are not leaving.”
“I can’t stay.”
“So what if Logan saw your tits?” To be honest, the caveman inside me isn’t happy about that fact either, but if I make a big deal about it, she’ll only feel worse. “I’m sure he’s seen plenty in his lifetime.”
“Not mine though. He must think I’m a dirty hoe,” she says, choking on her words.
“I can guarantee he doesn’t think you’re a hoe.”
“I was facing the door, Connor, in full view … leaning against the wall all seductively in only this,” she says, running her hand up and down her body, “My leg was propped up and not only was I licking the neck of the beer bottle, I was tweaking one of my nipples,” she screeches.
Fuck.
The imagery she just described has my cock twitching in my trousers. “Can we do a re-enactment tomorrow afternoon?”
“No,” she yells, punching me in the stomach. “My hoe days are over! Done and dusted.”
I hastily pull her face into my chest, then rest my chin on her head. I’m struggling not to laugh. I feel her pain, I do. It may sound insensitive, but I can’t help but be amused by her antics. I find her dramatics completely adorable.
“Logan is still out there; he came to go over things with you before we fly to Melbourne for the court case.”
She takes a step back and pushes on my chest. “I can’t go out there … I’ll never be able to look that man in the eye again. My life is over, finished … kaput.”
“Princess,” I say, reaching for her again. “Your life is not kaput. The girls you teach pole to, flash their tits for a living.”
“To strangers, not their lawyer … their family friend. He’s probably going to sue me for sexual harassment.”
“He’s not.”
“Well, emotional turmoil at the very least. I probably scarred him for the rest of his life.”
I reach into her suitcase and pull out one of the bras sitting on top. She just stands there as I slide one of her arms into it, followed by the other. When I’m done, I reach around the back of her so I can clasp it.
“He’s not going to sue you and you didn’t scar him.” I place a soft kiss on her forehead before taking a step backwards. “Have you seen your body? I can guarantee nobody would be damaged from seeing you naked, Cass. Get dressed, and come out when you’re done.” Her face is void of any emotion as I retreat a few more steps. I see her eyes flicker in the direction of the window a few times, like she’s planning her escape. “We’re on the seventh floor … don’t even think about it.”
I don’t turn away from her until I reach the doorway.
When I re-enter the main room, Logan looks just as mortified as my fiancée did. “I’m so sorry,” he says.
“Don’t be. It was just one of those unfortunate things. I didn’t tell her you were coming, she’s horrified, poor thing. She was packing her suitcase ready to flee when I went in there. She says she has to quit her job at the studio because her boss’s husband saw her tits, before leaving town.”
His lips quirk, and so do mine. “Should I go?”
“No. Do you want a beer?”
“Ten minutes ago, I would’ve said no, but I think I need one now.”
I’ll be eternally grateful that I had the beer bottle held up to my mouth—which managed to hide my amusement—when Cass came out of the room a few minutes later. Despite the fact we’re currently experiencing a heatwave here in Sydney, she was wearing one of my hoodies—which drowned her petite frame—jeans tucked into her long boots, a scarf wrapped around her neck numerous times, and a beanie pulled low on her head.
It was a struggle not to lose it, and when Logan coughed behind his fist and quickly diverted his head to the side, I’m pretty sure he was in the same boat as me.
The court case wraps up just after three. We’re going to trial, which I knew would be the outcome. Our evidence is extensive. Including notes from the doctor Cassandra went to see about getting on birth control and again for the pregnancy. She’d informed him on her initial visit about her first sexual encounter the day prior, which disputed Amanda’s accusation that we’d had sex while Cassandra was underage. She had nothing to back her claim. Hearsay or assumptions don’t stand up in court.
Cassie is a mess though. She’s trying to act unaffected but I can feel her hands shaking in mine as we exit the courthouse. Her mother glared at her the entire time she was on the stand, but my brave girl held her head high and did what needed to be done. I knew she was terrified about getting up there, but she aced it.
We’ve been staying with my parents since we arrived in Melbourne and will be here for the weekend.
Instead of heading to their place, I lead my fiancée to a bar down the street from the courthouse. She needs a glass of wine and a debrief before we face anyone. My parents mean well, but I know there will be questions when we get there.
“Where are we going?” Cassie asks. “The car is back that way.”
“I’m getting you something to drink.”
“I have water in my bag.”
“Something alcoholic.”
“Oh. I could go a glass of wine or twenty.”
I chuckle as I bring our conjoined hands to my mouth, placing a soft kiss on her knuckles. I hate that she has to go through this and relive her trauma, but she wants her mother to pay for her wrongdoings just as much as I do. “I want justice for our baby” were her exact words.
An hour later, I’m still sitting on my first beer, because I’m driving. Cass is on wine number three and starting to relax. I let her talk, getting it all off her chest, and only speak when required.
