Inevitably Yours (Imagine Ink Book 4) Page 3

  “Skynyrd is holed up in the back bedroom with Rick. They have become best friends ever since I brought Rick into the family. Isn’t that right, Lenny? Yes, it is. He has Rick, and I have you.” She kissed the cat’s snowy white head and gently lowered him to the counter, stroking his fur while he ate from the bowl of food she’d painstakingly prepared for him.

  At some point, she quit talking directly to John and spoke to Lynyrd. Another wave of guilt crashed into him. He recognized her avoidance habits by now. He recognized a great many things; just because he was too much of a coward to say them aloud or even think them, didn’t mean he didn’t take note of them.

  “Skynyrd has a friend? One he doesn’t shred or terrorize?”

  Again, she spoke to John, by speaking to Lynyrd, “Uh-huh. I think rescuing Rick was the best thing to happen to Lenny and Skin, right?” I really screwed up this time. She cooed to the cat as he contentedly ate and ignored her. I’ve never been so jealous of a cat in my life.

  “Skyn just needed a friend, and well, Lenny here is a loner, a real ‘Freebird,’ huh? Anyway, those two are like peas and carrots. They tone down each other’s negative traits, and they both leave Lenny alone to do his own thing. We couldn’t be happier, could we?”

  Lenny maybe; Augusta, not so much. It was crystal clear she was deeply hurt, and John was so flustered, he didn’t know how to fix it for her. He knew what she wanted. Hell, he knew what he wanted, but it wasn’t that simple. Not anymore. Honestly, it would’ve never been simple, but at least it would’ve been doable at some point.

  All John wanted to do was wipe that hurt from her face…bring that joy back to her that had always seemed so ingrained. She was never not-happy. Even when brooding over something she feared she did or shouldering someone else’s hurt—which she did often—she still seemed to be happy at her core. She had a poetic soul, one that wrung the beauty and joy from everything she experienced—the extraordinary, the mundane, and even the bad.

  John wanted to bring back that look, wrap it in a bow, put it under a tree, and watch it return to her eyes as she peeled back the shiny paper. Dear Lord, she even has me thinking poetically. She gifted him with that look the night they rescued Skynyrd…and every day since until he threw it away with his pigheadedness and inability to accept this pregnancy and just be there for her. She needed him to rub her feet and bring her ice cream at two in the morning. He wanted to make love to her and watch her experience the heightened awareness of her own body during this amazing time in her life.

  John shut that line of thinking down as quickly as it sprung up. That was not the path laid out before them. They chose their path over the last year and a half. Or rather, he chose it when he kept everyone at arm’s length, even Augusta. He chose it again when Tori and Erika orchestrated their master plan to get Augusta and Dax together. He had backed off in a failed attempt to make everyone happy; he was not a rock-the-boat kind of guy. Well, not anymore, anyway.

  Once John realized Stacy and Dax had feelings for each other, it freed him from guilt to pursue Augusta. But his own personal issues gave him cold feet. Then, just as they were warming up, Gus chose not to give them a chance when she decided to carry someone else’s child.

  Maybe when this was all in the past, there would be a trail for them, one they could walk together and see where it led, but John had his doubts. He didn’t know if he could watch her grow more beautiful each day with a child that wasn’t his.

  Not again, never again.

  As it was, his past was already tainting his view, and that hurt Augusta. John could tolerate a great many things in life, but hurting her wasn’t one. He just wanted to make her smile…and laugh…and scream with passi...No. He cut his thoughts off abruptly. That was not what she wanted from him anymore, and it certainly was not what he needed.

  Knowing he was digging the hole deeper didn’t stop him from trying to explain. But how does a man explain his issues with her pregnancy to the pregnant woman? I guess it’s time just to tell her. Tell her about Deborah, tell her about…everything. Then she’ll understand why I can’t be in her life right now, his inner voice assured him. John was positive that voice was wrong, but what else was there to do at this point?

  He felt he needed to clear things up with her before he left. John was flying Tori and Erika out to scout the possibility of a new store franchise for their clothing line, FORM wear—named for their friend Melanie, who they lost. Now that they were devoting more time to family and other pursuits, they were loosening the reigns of their baby and letting others handle the day-to-day operations.

  John opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted by the sound of Linda Ronstadt asking when she would be loved. Augusta blushed and reached for her phone. If John’s heart were already in a blender, the ringtone pushed the frappe button.

  Most people picked a song they loved for their ringtone, and John knew them all. Walker’s was “Tattooed Millionaire,” and Erika’s was “Walking on Sunshine,” and had been since he met them. With Tori, it changed weekly, but it was always a movie line or song. Michael’s was, of course, a Superficial Sinner song. The man loves the sound of his own voice. Dax’s was “FOAD,” and Stacy chose whatever was inappropriate and could irritate the most people. But Augusta, hers was fluid, always a direct reflection of her mood.

  She had confessed that to him the one and only time they almost kissed had been interrupted by “Leather and Lace.” After blushing a most becoming shade of crimson, she admitted she changed it as often as was needed, and sometimes even more than once a day.

  The reddening of her cheeks now, and the embarrassed look she cast through her lowered lashes, told him she remembered his knowledge about her ringtone and she regretted telling him. But John suffered the song’s meaning viscerally. She felt unlovable, and he couldn’t live with that. He wanted, no, needed to do something to let her know she wasn’t unlovable. Hell, she is the most lovable woman on the planet. It wasn’t that she was unworthy of love so much as he was unworthy of giving it to her.

  In his panic over sealing the fracture in her heart, John blurted out the first thing that came to mind. “Do you want to go to dinner with me tonight?”

  Her shocked reaction morphed into one of hope. The false hope his invitation gave her made the realization of his error settle in the pit of his stomach like gas station sushi. He meant it one way, should have elaborated, but she took a whole other meaning. Just one more way you keep hurting this girl, you asshole.

  Wow, talk about a shock. A good shock though, an amazing shock, but still a total shock. Gus would’ve been less stunned if John had started moving choppy and singing “The Lollipop Guild” from The Wizard of Oz.

  She wanted to focus all her thoughts on this moment, live it to its fullest, experience it with her whole being. John asking her out was a breakthrough of epic proportions. Maybe all the vibes she was getting about this pregnancy were wrong. Pregnancy has screwed with every other aspect of my body, why not my intuition?

  Andy had told her as much—not the pregnancy screwing with her body part, although he had read every book and was more familiar with a woman’s body than any gay man in history— that John cared about her and was not a homophobic butthole she’d been wondering if he was.

  Andy and Marco both respected and adored John and agreed that John and she should be a done deal. Marco went as far as to say John looked at her the way Andy looked at him. Gus didn’t know about that because, whenever Andy looked at Marco, everyone in the room got turned on, and when John looked at her, she was the only one getting wet, it seemed.

  Gus couldn’t wait for Andy and Marco to get settled in next door so they could have an even more active role in the pregnancy. They tried to keep a distance at first, not wanting to smother her. But she insisted they needed to be near. So, they rented the nearest place they could, which was a few miles away. Considering the size of her house, it wasn’t practical for them to stay there. She still offered, but they turned her down. Now
the house next door finally became available, and they leased it. Gus knew it was killing them to miss out on little things.

  Not that they weren’t with her everyday anyway, but three miles to a father, or fathers-to-be, might as well be fifty.

  Selfishly, she needed their presence and not just because she was carrying their child. She loved Andy’s practical advice and sage wisdom, as well as Marco’s enthusiasm and whimsy.

  She glanced down at her phone and saw it was January calling. She needed to chat with her after their call got cut short the other day, so she couldn’t let it go to voicemail. “Can you hold just a minute?” Gus didn’t wait for her sister to agree, she just muted the phone and put it back down on the counter.

  Gus needed a momentary distraction and a chance to breathe. Luckily, she remembered the shirt. “Oh, I have your shirt, just let me grab it.” She headed to her room with purpose, closed the door behind her, and leaned her forehead against the cool wood. She didn’t want to give the shirt back, but it was the only excuse she could think of in the moment to step away. I have a gazillion reasons, bathroom being top of list, and I could’ve keep the shirt a bit longer.

  After pushing herself off the door, she made her way to the dresser and opened the top drawer. There sat his baby-blue T-shirt. It looked at home among her bras and underthings. Letting her hand caress it with a soft touch, she spoke to it, “I’m going to miss you.” And she would…miss greeting it each morning with a gentle touch as she got dressed to face the day. She even sniffed it on occasion, although it didn’t smell of him since she washed it. Gus removed it from the drawer and brought it to her nose one last time. With a deep inhale, she left the room. Get it together Gus, you are starting to come off a little creepy.

  “Here you go. I washed it.” Real smooth. “Thanks for the yardwork, by the way.” He had taken it off the day he and Michael surprised her by trimming the knee-high grass in the back yard. She had covertly watched John’s tanned shoulder muscles bulge and glisten in the sun in just his tank top after he removed his T-shirt.

  “No worries, you know I’m always available should you need m…anything.” Gus could’ve sworn he almost said me, but caught himself.

  “Okay, pick me up at five? Sorry, but I eat early.” She then held up one finger in the universal signal of I-need-you-to-wait-one-second-although-I’ll-be-a-half-an-hour-or-more and answered the phone.

  “Hey, little sis, what’s up?” As she greeted January, John indicated he was leaving and would call. His goodbye wink was a move she hated to love. She hated she couldn’t enjoy the gesture or the afterglow, but such was her life right now. Partially organized chaos with a dose of all-out what-the-heck described it pretty well. While her sister answered with the typical, “not much,” Gus was aware of the rest of her guests filtering out as well.

  She waddled to the couch, eased herself down, and picked up the conversation where they left off last time they spoke. “So, let’s dismiss the pleasantries and get to the point already, Jani.”

  “I love you too, sis, and don’t call me Jani, please. Can’t a girl just come and stay with her sister while she’s pregnant without getting the third degree? Oh, and Mom and Dad say hi and they love you.”

  “You mean ‘no matter what,’ January. You can say it, I know they put the qualifier at the end.” Gus knew her parents well. The Thornes, loving but controlling. They believed she was ruining her life by having a baby for someone else. They’d had the conversation. Her mother cried and wailed while her father remained stoic and reprimanded her. Gus knew they meant well, but they were stuck in a time that didn’t exist anymore—a time of arranged marriages and virginal brides when children followed the path the parents laid out for them with no questions asked.

  Gus did appreciate January’s attempt to protect her from the pain of her mother’s inadvertent slight and overt judgment.

  “I’m sorry, Augusta, but you know how they are. They love us and want what’s best for us. Enough about them, how are you? Big as a house yet?”

  “Gee thanks, and no, I’m not. I’m doing well, and so is baby. We are growing at the perfect rate for thirty-six weeks. My love life sucks, but it’s starting to look up as of a few minutes ago.”

  January interrupted. “Ooooo, do tell.”

  “Nope. I refuse to jinx it. But I do want to hear about why you are anxious to come to Florida and stay with your pregnant sister when you should be starting your new life. Graduating college wasn’t the end, you know. There’s this thing called a career that comes next.” Gus laughed. She was just giving her sister a hard time. She had her life laid out in front of her, courtesy of Timothy and Melody Thorne. A moment of guilt invaded Gus’ lightened mood. It always did when she thought about when she left home.

  “I told you already, I want to be there for you. Mom and Dad only saw fit to give me one sister, so I got stuck with you.”

  “Ha, it’s the other way around, I got stuck with you. I was there long before you graced us with your perfect presence. I joke, but seriously, I know you love me and want to be here for me, but I get the distinct impression there is more to it than that. Spill, and I’ll consider it.”

  “Okay, fine. You always were all about feelings and that hippy shit.”

  “January, language.”

  “Please, it’s not like you haven’t said or heard worse.”

  “I know, but it’s weird coming from my baby sister, so humor me. Now, spill. I don’t have all day. I have to go live in group and then get ready for dinner with John.” Gus was practically beaming about both those things. Going live in her group today would be so much different than any other time.

  When Gus decided to do this whole baby-oven thing, she looked for support everywhere, even Facebook. She found plenty of groups for typical surrogacy situations, but not many for hers, so as the saying goes, “if the book you want to read hasn’t been written, then write it.” Well, something like that. She had no dreams of writing a book, but she did start a group and was taken aback by how many women like her there were.

  The group had grown right along with her belly. Now she did regular live feeds and they discussed their problems with each other. Number one on the list…dating, and finding love and/or keeping it. Gus couldn’t wait to share this ray of hope with them. Her life had been getting more and more depressing in that arena. No one seemed to have any positive news on that front, until now. She could give them the giddy expectation, and then a postdate wrap up. Although, if things go my way, that will be a morning broadcast.

  “Okay, I’ll spill, if you will. Deal?”

  “Deal.”

  “Okay, I love you dearly and do want to spend time with you, but also, I need to get the heck outta Dodge. Mom and Dad are driving me nuts. Dad is all about getting me my company ID. Do you know he gave me the security forms at graduation? Like a gift or something. Then Mom and Chadwick started talking wedding planners. Freaking wedding planners, Gus.”

  “Oh, my God, you’re engaged? Why didn—”

  Gus’ squeal was cut off with a very frustrated sounding reply, “Argh. No, I’m not. Not in the traditional sense, anyway. Mom, Dad, and Chadwick are planning our wedding, and I was never even asked. Look, I just need to get away, sort all this out. Be with my big sister when she brings a child into the world and find a way to reconcile what I want with the life I am destined to live.”

  Gus knew that feeling all too well; she was a major disappointment because she left to pursue some “hippy dream” and threw their “gifts” back in her parents’ faces. Well, if I’m so hippy to them, why did they name their kids January Snow and Augusta Rain? Maybe that was why, they were making up for their own hippy phase. Gus knew they held the reins on Jan twice as hard because of her, so she didn’t hesitate. “Pack your bags and get here as soon as you can. You can stay as long as you like, and we will figure things out for you, okay? But for now, I really must go. I love you and will give you all the details when you get here.”


  Gus barely heard January’s, “Thanks, love you, too,” before she ended the call, grabbed her laptop, and went live.

  In only a few minutes, her viewers were up to twenty-three. That was pretty usual. Those were the women closest to her situation and due date. They, like her, had judgmental people in their lives and craved the camaraderie this little Facebook group afforded them.

  Gus condensed the whole situation with John from earlier to about three minutes. As soon as she got to the part where he asked her out, the questions started to flow.

  “So, Marylyn, hi Marylyn. Marylyn asked if John’s attitude toward the pregnancy has changed. Well, I don’t know. I know he still looked at me with disappointment, but something shifted. Not all good. I almost felt like it was a pity date or something, but if I don’t give it a chance to run its course, I’ll never forgive myself. I truly believe there is something I’m not getting. Maybe in his past or, I hate to even think, homophobia. Neither father believes that to be the case, and John’s a good man. But there is something going on. I’m hoping I can break through and find it, put his fears to rest, and maybe give us a chance at being a couple.”

  Gus scanned the screen and mumbled to herself before speaking aloud, “No Ginger, Stacy is being zero help. But, I can understand that. They are close, and if he has secrets, they are not hers to tell. He protected hers, I have no doubt she’ll protect his.”

  Scanning the live questions again, Gus found one she couldn’t resist reliving.

  “Carrie wants to know about my falling in love with John, and how I know he’s a good man, or rather, a good man for me. Well, this is a long one. I’ve told you the story of Skynyrd, and I think that was when the seed was planted. With the matchmaking efforts going on around me to get Dax and myself together, we, or at least, I, ignored it. We didn’t flirt the way most people do when a crush is new. We pretended it was nothing. Since I still feel giddy about it, to me, that means it must be something special. Something more than just butterflies in my stomach and wet underwear because it’s exciting and new.” Then lower, more to herself than anyone else, she added, “I just know it is.”