Opening Up

SAM

As soon as I got home after work, I threw myself into cleaning up for Evie’s arrival. Some part of me still doubted she was actually coming, but I fingered the panties in my pocket and forced myself not to question.

I threw on some jeans and a solid gray tee and went to work setting up candles around the bedroom. Evie didn’t know it yet, but that was where I was hoping to spend most of our time.

Kissing, fucking, cuddling—whatever she wanted. Just as long as she’d stop pulling away and let me shower her in affection.

I wandered into the living room and peered around, ensuring everything was in place.

The eighty-inch flatscreen hung above the black glass entertainment center, not a dust particle in sight. The smoky leather sofa was spotless, velvety white pillows fluffed in its corners, and I’d just mopped the slate-gray tile floor yesterday.

My end tables and coffee table didn’t contain so much as a ring of condensation, courtesy of the coasters sitting neatly in their wooden holders.

~Ping~. The iPhone chiming provoked a nervous churning in my gut. Shit, I really hoped that wasn’t Evie canceling on me after all.

Drawing my cell from my front pocket, I didn’t even have to open the message; the preview on the lockscreen made my heart fall from my chest, tinkering down each rib along the way.

Angel

I’m sorry.

Unbelievable. Did this woman even want to be with me? I’d tried to be patient and give her space, but I was falling for her so hard. It sucked to feel like the man on the outside of her heart, begging for her to open up and let me in. Why couldn’t she just let me in?

A knock rumbled at my front door.

I rolled my eyes and stormed over to answer it, feeling sorry for whichever solicitor or salesman was about to feel the brunt of my displeasure over a miserable day.

When I opened the door, though, Evie stood on my porch, wearing the same nude button-up blouse, cute little pencil skirt, and sweet rosy smile from earlier. The sight of her instantly melted my icy core.

“What the hell?” I furrowed my brows. “What’s with the message? I thought you were bailing on me.”

“I’m sorry I’m late…” She smirked.

I smiled and rolled my eyes, knowing that I’d just played right into her little game. Yanking her through my threshold, I claimed her lips with my own.

Evie and I stumbled our way to my bedroom, and before I knew it, we were butt naked in my bed. The insides of her sleek thighs squeezed my hips like a vice grip as she straddled my lap.

The warmth of her hands cupping my jaw would’ve been enough to keep me toasty through a damn ice storm. She decorated me with one long, heart-throbbing kiss after another, and I let her take the lead.

My aching cock nestled securely against her tender clit, torturing me with every grind.

I was still astonished by the softness of her skin, even softer than the royal-blue silk sheets beneath us. When my lips strayed from hers to track the subtle, floral scent of her perfume, her head tipped back, exposing her neck.

After drawing her into a few deep kisses, I expected to hear her charming little moans starting up, but she remained quiet. When I got a good look at her, on top of me and bathed in the light of all the candles around the bed, she looked lost in thought.

She was peering at the stars through the skylights, dreamy-eyed. Her hands were still in my hair, but it was like she’d lost track of what we were doing.

“Evie?” I asked.

“Hmm?” she hummed, snapping back to the moment.

I furrowed my brows. “You all right?”

“Yeah,” she said. “Yeah. I’m sorry.”

“You sure?”

“Mhm.”

She pressed her lips against mine, reigniting the fire in my belly. I kissed back hard, trying to draw her fully into the moment, but it wasn’t long before her lips slowed again, ultimately coming to a pause.

Her forehead rested against mine, and it was obvious something was running through her pretty little brain.

“Evie?” I asked, confused. “Do you wanna talk about something?”

She bit her lower lip and nodded, keeping her tender grip on the back of my head.

Well, I’d wanted her to open up to me. If she was finally ready to talk about what had been bothering her these last few days, I was all ears, even if it did put our sexy times on pause.

“You asked me before what Greg’s excuse was…,” she said. “Why he did what he did.”

Any other time, I would’ve been a little concerned about her thinking of her ex-husband while in bed with me. But this was clearly something serious, so I’d be patient.

“For five years, Greg and I struggled to get pregnant. But we couldn’t. And it was my fault.”

~Her fault?~

Was this what Evie had been holding back from me? I’d never had to think about whether I wanted kids. Carla didn’t—too much of a disruption to her high-rolling lifestyle—and I was pretty much okay with that.

Maybe some part of me did think it would be nice, being a dad someday. But I’d certainly never blame a woman for being unable to bear children. I wanted Evie—for herself, not for her uterus.

“Thank you for sharing that with me,” I said, giving the words all the gravity they deserved. “I’m sorry you had to struggle for so long. But Evie…” I sighed. “As far as it being your fault, you can’t think like that.”

“No, it is,” she said. “According to two doctors now, my egg count is extremely low for a thirty-year-old woman. Greg’s sperm count and motility and everything were fine.”

“Yeah, but it’s not like you asked for it. And it didn’t give him a right to do what he did. I mean, if the two of you wanted children, there’s IVF, adoption—”

“Greg said adoption wouldn’t be the same as having our own biological child,” Evie said, her voice full of sharp edges. I wondered what Saanvi thought of that little opinion. Evie clearly loved her sister completely, adopted or not.

The more I learned about Greg, the more I thought he was a complete dipshit. How long had Evie been scared to talk to me about this? I wished she would’ve come to me sooner because I had a pretty relevant perspective on the issue.

“Did you know that Fernando isn’t my biological father?” I asked calmly.

“He isn’t?” Evie sounded shocked.

“No. He met my mother when I was five. He took me to baseball games, played catch with me in the yard, helped me with my homework… He stuck around.”

Unlike my piece of shit biological father, who left Ma when he found out she was pregnant.

“The truth is, Evie”—I let out a sigh—“it takes a lot more to be a father to a child than just creating one.”

I didn’t want to say outright that I’d be happy to adopt children with Evie. It was way too soon for us to be thinking about having kids together. But yeah, somewhere down the line, if she wanted to adopt, I would be more than satisfied with that.

I must have said something right because her eyes glowed in the candlelight, and her mouth found its way back to mine.

Squeezing her ass, I drove my shaft harder against her pussy. I needed her—needed to be inside her—now more than ever. Not to fuck her, but to make love to her the way I’d been craving since Saturday.

It felt like I’d been craving Evie since even before I met her. It didn’t make any sense. I’d barely known her two weeks, and we’d spent half that time trying to pretend we were just business casual. But I didn’t care, not when I had her warm on top of me.

“Wait.” Evie moaned, pulling from my lips. “Sam…”

“Angel, you’re killing me.” I huffed against her skin while sucking on her neck.

“I know, but th-th-there’s one more thing I need to tell you.”

Something else? Did she want to talk more about her infertility? I kind of thought that could wait, but still, I pulled from her skin and gave her my full attention.

“Sam, I know we didn’t exactly start this relationship conventionally, but…” She bit her lip like she was choosing her next words carefully. I did still thrill to hear her calling it a “relationship.”

“Hey,” I murmured. “Spit it out, angel.”

She sighed. “I’m p—”

My iPhone abruptly rang on the nightstand, interrupting Evie’s words. I sighed and lay back on the mattress, stretching out an arm to check my screen and see who dared to disturb our night.

The caller ID read, “Burlington Police Department” in ominous capital letters. I frowned. “What the hell?” Sliding the bar at the bottom of the glass, I brought the device to my ear. “Hello?”

“Good evening. I’m looking for Samuel Vázquez,” a man’s hoarse voice said.

“Speaking,” I said, staring into Evie’s worried gaze. She was still on top of me, still naked.

“Sir, I’m sorry to inform you that…”

I couldn’t believe the words flowing into my ears.

“O-okay,” I stammered. “I’ll be right there.”

“What’s wrong?” Evie asked as I hung up.

The sinking in my chest prevented me from answering even that simple question.

“Baby?” she whispered.

“T-the firm…,” I stuttered. “It’s—” I couldn’t figure out how to finish that sentence.

“What?” she asked.

“It’s on fire.”