Chapter 11

11

Coco

As usual, after making love with Walt, I wake up in a fog. Vaguely, I recall him placing me gently in the passenger seat of his car and buckling the belt around me. After that, there was the hum of the engine in my ears and his big, strong hand resting on my thigh. He must have carried me into the lobby and up to his room, which is where I am now.

His room.

His, period.

I roll over and inhale his scent off the pillow, my sex immediately turning wet and pliant. Where is he? I want him to be back inside of me, possessing me in a way no one has before. My protector, caretaker and lover all rolled into one perfect man.

After a few seconds of obsessing about his body, his touch, my effervescent tingles give way to dread. I need to go find Walt and figure out what we’re going to do about his family. I don’t want to be the reason they grow estranged. I definitely don’t want to lose my best friend who I’ve grown to love. But I’m not willing to give up Walt. And I don’t think he’s willing to give me up, either.

No, I know he isn’t. I know.

Anxious to get the problem resolved, I climb out of bed and fix my clothes, my hair. I search my room and the bathroom for Walt, but he’s nowhere to be found. Didn’t leave a note.

With a small frown on my face, I step into the hallway and let the door close behind me. I take the elevator down to the lobby…and right away, I spot Wanda. She’s facing away from me, talking to a woman I don’t recognize, although there is a tug of recognition. When the woman and Wanda turn around, I know why.

It’s our sociology professor, Mrs. Linden.

Wanda told me she was going to set our professor up with Walt and…

And she actually did it. She brought her all the way to the Hamptons.

My heart labors to beat in my ears, cold sweat breaking out on my skin. Where is Walt? Does he know what’s going on? I don’t think so. Wouldn’t he have warned me?

I lock eyes with Wanda and attempt an apologetic smile. A wave. She’s my best friend and I yearn to share with her that I’m in love, but I can’t. I can’t, because I’m in love with her grandfather. Eventually, Wanda taps Mrs. Linden on the shoulder and indicates the restaurant located just off the lobby. Mrs. Linden smiles blithely and glides toward the hostess station, her no-nonsense heels tapping on the marble floor.

Wanda saunters toward me slowly, arms crossed.

“Well, well, well. Back so soon from screwing my grandfather?”

My stomach sinks. Wow. I don’t think I’ve ever seen my best friend this upset. Her color is high, eyes bright with betrayal. “Wanda, please…just let me explain.”

“The way you explained you were seeing my grandfather behind my back?” She flashes her teeth at me. “Because I found out in front of my whole family when he tossed you over his shoulder and slapped your ass.”

An involuntary tremble runs through me at the memory, but I manage to hide the sudden blast of arousal and focus on my hurt best friend. “It wasn’t supposed to happen like it. I…can’t explain the reaction I had to Walt. It’s like I’d been waiting for him all my life. I would never hurt you on purpose. I just…I just couldn’t be logical when he makes me feel so illogical and…and…”

For a moment, she seems almost stunned over what I’m telling her. Dreamy almost. Like she wants to be happy for me. But in seconds, she snaps herself out of it. “Gross,” she sniffs. “Anyway, I set him up on a dinner date with Mrs. Linden and even if they don’t hit it off, he’ll realize he shouldn’t be dating someone young enough to be his granddaughter. He needs an intervention and Mrs. Linden was more than happy to drive to the Hamptons to go on a date with a four-star general.”

Her words turn garbled in my ears. I feel ill.

A dinner date?

She set them up on a date when he referred to me as his future wife earlier?

Of course, Wanda couldn’t know that. She doesn’t know that Walt wouldn’t hurt me like that. By going on a date with another woman. I start to tell her, but then I watch with my heart twisting as Walt strides across the lobby and enters the restaurant behind Mrs. Linden.

He walks past about fifty yards away without looking at me, leaving me in physical pain.

Agony.

Just like my parents. Just like my father.

Abandoning me.

Leaving me behind for something better. A happier future.

No. No, that can’t be what’s happening. He made promises to me.

But so did my father. He promised to love and protect me—and he didn’t.

“He…” I sound dazed. “He agreed to the date?”

“Of course, he did.” Wanda shrugs. “He’s already got what he wanted from you.”

The hurt elicited by that statement is jarring.

Logic is screaming at me to enter the restaurant and confirm what my heart is denying, but I can’t. If it’s true—that Walt agreed to a date with Mrs. Linden—then I don’t want to see it in the flesh. It would break me like a concrete slab dropped from a fifth-story window.

Tears rush to my eyes and glob down my cheeks. I can’t wipe them away fast enough. In seconds, I’m a mess. Drenched in tears. Holding my stomach to keep from throwing up. Wanda watched the transformation and turns pale, her smirk slowly vanishing. “Holy shit…you love him.” She opens her mouth, closes it again. “I didn’t realize, Coco. I didn’t realize it was so serious.”

“Of course, it is. It…was?” I use the edge of my dress to wipe my face, flashing my underwear to everyone in the lobby and not caring whatsoever. My world is crumbling. “I wouldn’t go behind your back unless there was something there. I just had no experience with men and then I was swept up. It all happened so f-fast.” I stumble backward, desperate to put some distance between me and the love of my life on a date with someone else. “I’ll, um…I h-have to go—”

“Coco, wait. Wait.” Wanda grasps my arm to stop me from leaving, but I pull away and start to run, knowing Wanda won’t follow me. I’ve only seen her run once and it was after the ice cream truck. “Wait, please!” she shouts after me.

But I’m hearing nothing except the rush of wind in my ears, the sound of my heart cracking down the center. Pain. That’s all I’m feeling.

And I feel it even worse when I reach the beach, jogging over a dune, tumbling end over end down the other side, a searing pain reverberating in my skull…

* * *

Walt

My mission isto find my son.

Before I make things official with Coco, I need him to understand that I was blindsided by my love for her. I don’t want to miss out on my chance to be back in his life. A better father than before. But I simply can’t breathe without her, either. Trying to go on with my life alone now that I’ve found her would be a farce. I’d be fucking miserable and I have to hope he doesn’t hate me enough to wish me that dark of a fate.

Even now, as I walk through the lobby, I’m growing more anxious to get back to her. Every breath I take echoes in my ears. The back of my neck gathers tight. It has been too long since the last time I held Coco, saw her smile, licked her skin. It’s like being under a spell and having no desire to be cured. On a scale from one to ten, my obsession has become a twenty. My heart is racing for the first time in years. For the first time because of a woman. Ever.

Tonight, I am going to ask her to be my wife.

Is that crazy and impulsive? It might seem that way to the outside world. But when the two of us are together, the outside world ceases to exist. It’s only me and her. Damn anyone who doesn’t understand. The hell with them. All I can do is hope my family understands.

Even if they don’t, though? I’m taking Coco. I’m taking this unexpected love of my life and being grateful.

I enter the restaurant and some woman steps into my path, but like any soldier on a mission, I keep my focus on the goal and sidestep around her, spotting my son at the lobby bar with his head hung low over a glass of whiskey. I don’t stop until I’m sitting in the stool to his right. He is a tad bleary eyed when he looks over at me, but his gaze sharpens quickly.

“You.” He shakes his head. “I can’t believe you.” An exhale leaves him shakily. “Well, I can believe you’d give into temptation like that. Any man would. She’s a dream—”

“Stop,” I bite out. “I know I’ve pissed you off and I’m sorry about that. Sorry if I’ve disappointed you. But you need to be very careful what you say about Coco around me.”

Stunned, his mouth snaps shut. “Noted. I just meant she’s—”

“Very. Careful,” I stress, feeling my temperature rise. “She’s incredibly beautiful on the outside, yes, but she’s much more than that. She’s carrying around a lot of pain. Pain that doesn’t stand a chance against her bright spirit. She’s caring and smart and…” I’m getting dizzy with the need to look into her eyes. To be anchored by her. “You’ll think I’ve lost my mind, but I think I’ve been missing something my whole life. Her. More so in the last few years. It’s like I knew she was out there and I was slowly losing the will to live without her. Don’t ask me to stay away from her. She’s mine. By some miracle, she feels it as much as I do.”

My son lets out a slow breath, visibly surprised. “Jesus, Dad. I didn’t know it was this serious. I thought it was just physical.” He blinks down at his drink. Then back at me. “But I’ve never heard you speak about anything or anyone like this. You love her. You really do—”

“Excuse me,” says a woman to my left, interrupting whatever my son is going to say. Is she the same woman who I passed on my way into the restaurant? I can’t tell. Her features blur and all I can see is Coco. All I can do is crave her. “I’m sorry, but are you Walt?”

My brow knits. “Yes.”

She grows visibly flustered, shifting side to side. “I’m Mrs. Linden. Amy.” I’m pretty sure my face is betraying my utter confusion. All I feel is frustrated that she’s interrupting my conversation with Chris when it seemed as though he was beginning to understand that my love for Coco is real and serious and urgent. “Your granddaughter, Wanda, is one of my students. She…well, she set us up on a date—”

Wanda halts the woman’s explanation when she skids to a stop beside us. “Oh God. Oh God.” There are tears in her eyes and my stomach plummets. Somehow, I know this is about Coco. Somehow, I know something is wrong. “I should have known she wouldn’t hook up with my grandfather if her heart wasn’t in it. She would never hurt me on purpose. That’s not who she is. She…she loves you. She really does and now I’ve fucked it up. Excuse my language.”

“Coco…my student?” asks the woman whose name I can’t recall.

“Yes,” Wanda exhales, her gaze on the restaurant entrance. “That Coco.” She slaps her hands over her face. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Linden. I thought if I brought you here, my grandfather would realize someone his age is much more appropriate. But now I’ve hurt my best friend’s feelings. I—”

“What do you mean, you’ve hurt her feelings?” I roar, my throat closing up, choking off my oxygen. “Where is she?”

Wanda gulps, face stricken. “I saw her in the lobby. I told her you were meeting Mrs. Linden for a date and she…she ran…”

My insides are on fire. I can’t swallow. The restaurant sounds recede around me and all I can hear is the stutter of my heart. I can find Coco. I can explain, but right now, this very second, she’s hurting and that is causing turmoil to attack my chest. My girl has a fear of being left, abandoned, and she must be feeling that in spades right this very second, under the false belief I would agree to a date with anyone but her.

Meanwhile, I left her sleeping upstairs a couple of hours ago to buy an engagement ring.

“Which way?” I wheeze, already turning for the exit, a pit yawning wider and wider in my stomach. “Which way did she go?”

Wanda looks miserable. “I’m sorry. Out the front entrance toward the beach—”

I’m already running, sweat streaming down the sides of my face. Find her. Find her.

The beach is huge. She could have gotten into an Uber. There are endless possibilities and I hate them all. I want her sleeping in my bed, safe and warm, without a care in the world. The longer she suspects I went on a fucking date, the more pieces of me seem to crumble and fall to the ground. Go on a date when I’ve found my soul mate? It’s preposterous and yet, her issues run so deep, they might cause her to think without logic.

I will reassure her every day of her life that I’m not leaving.

She’ll never doubt me again.

My feet hit the sand out of instinct. This is the way she’d run. And my theory is confirmed a moment later when I notice heads turned in one direction, as if the crowd is collectively watching something. Someone gasps and starts speed walking toward the sight, while their companion jogs for the hotel, saying something about calling an ambulance.

Red sparks wash over my vision, stomach pitching with sickness. No. Please.

I pick up the pace and run toward where everyone is looking, speeding over dunes until I see her. She’s curled up, teeth sunk into her bottom lip. Her complexion is gray. And a bellow of denial fires off from the deepest recesses of my body.

Is that goddamn blood coming from her head?

I stumble at the sight, horror making my muscles stiffen. “Coco.” My instinct when I reach her is to lift her into my arms, but years of tending injuries in the field holds me back. “Where are you hurt?”

“I hit my head,” she whispers.

“Poor baby.” I rasp, leaning down to press kisses to her hairline, my hands shaking with the need to hold this perfect angel. My perfect angel. I took my eye off the ball, I missed the hazard in our path. This is my fault. Mine. “Anywhere else? Your neck…”

“No.”

I don’t allow relief to sweep in because she seems to be having a hard time keeping her eyes open and that terrifies me. As does the stream of blood traveling down her temple and cheek. Without another thought, I drag off my shirt, ball it up and press it to the head injury. “Can you hold this to the wound, Coco? I’ll bring you back to the hotel. I’ll fix it for you, baby. Just need you to stay away. Stay awake.”

Her hand is pale, too pale, where it presses to the wadded-up T-shirt.

My stomach dips drastically and then I’m run over by a sense of anger and fear. Helplessness. “Why would you run like that? How could you believe I’d even go near someone besides you?” I carefully lift her into my arms and storm back toward the hotel, relieved to see flashing red and white lights in the distance. “Don’t you know I love you? Don’t you?”

Tears leave her eyes, mixing with the blood.

Wanda and my son come into sight, my granddaughter throwing her hands up to cover her miserable gasp. I keep moving. I have one focus right now and that’s getting my future wife medical attention. I did this. I should have told her sooner that I love her. Maybe if I made her feel more secure, she wouldn’t have believed that bullshit about me being on a date.

“I have a ring in my pocket, Coco. You’re going to wear it on your finger for the rest of your life. Understand? You’ll wear it while I’m going down on you, when you graduate college. You’ll wear it while you’re delivering my babies…”

I need to keep going. Need to reassure her of my commitment by painting a picture of our future together, but when I look down and she’s lost consciousness, it’s all I can do to remain standing, breathing. “No!” I shout hoarsely. And I run toward the flashing lights.

* * *

Coco

When I wake up,I feel like I’m floating. There’s no pain, only disorientation.

But I’m not so buoyant that I can’t feel the new weight on my ring finger.

If only I could break through the drowsiness enough to look down.

Experimentally, I crack an eyelid—and the first thing I see is Walt.

He’s pacing in front of my hospital bed, his chest rapidly rising and falling.

His forehead is covered in a sheen of sweat, anxiety radiating from his strong body.

I must shift or make a noise, because suddenly he’s turning and lunging for the hospital bed, snatching up my hand and bringing it to his mouth. “Coco. You’re awake.” He releases a shuddering exhale. “Thank God you’re awake.” He releases my hand long enough to press a button on the device attached to the bed. “I’m too old to be this stressed, angel. I’ve been on the verge of a heart attack for the last three hours. Don’t do this to me ever again. Please.” He leans down to press his lips to my forehead. “I thought I knew how much I loved you. I had no idea. Not until I saw you bleeding. Not until you were limp in my arms.” Again, a ripple passes through him and he grinds my hand against his mouth, eyes squeezed shut. “I would trade my life for yours. In a heartbeat. But I didn’t have that choice. I couldn’t heal you.”

“You’re healing me right now,” I whisper.

I was wrong. I was so stupid to believe Walt went on a date after what we’d shared. I let my baggage weigh me down that nothing could lift me back up. Not until he arrived. Took care of me in the way I’ve always dreamed about. Embodying that sense of ownership I’ve always craved without having the right man to deliver it.

“I should have listened to my heart saying you would never hurt me.” Moisture rushes down my cheeks. “When I saw you running toward me on the beach…I knew how ridiculous I’d behaved.”

“Not ridiculous.” He shakes his head, adoration making his eyes twinkle. “You don’t want to know how I’d have behaved if I believed you’d gone out on a date.”

Flutters move around in my chest. “Never,” I whisper.

He lifts my hand, watching as I tearfully examine the breathtaking diamond ring. “Goddamn right, never.” He leans down and kisses my palm passionately. “That’s an order.”

A moan builds in my throat when his tongue licks a circle onto the small of my wrist. “And that order is coming from a four-star general,” I murmur. “It must be serious.”

“I’ll never take anything more serious than you.” He slips his free hand beneath my hospital gown, his big hand massaging my thigh, his lips hovering closely over mine. “Priority number one. Owner of my soul.” The heel of his hand skates up my inner thigh to brush against my sex. “My little girl.”

My entire body purrs to life, head to toe. As if his touch and words have the power to kick-start my engine. My heart. It booms in my chest like a rubber mallet hitting a drum. “Did I dream it when you said you love me?” I whisper.

“No.” His mouth drags sideways against mine, causing me to clench. “You didn’t dream it.” He grips my sex gently, his eyes radiating intensity down at me. “And I want to hear you say it back to me now.”

A tear slips down my temple, heart squeezing. “I love you,” I say, opening my thighs to give him access to me. Every single part. Forever. “I wish it hadn’t taken me this long to find you.”

“Maybe it’s a good thing,” he chuckles, obviously referring to the fact that I’m only twenty-one and he’s sixty-three.

“Is it a good thing, Daddy?” I whisper, lifting my hip, pressing into his intimate hold. “Is it?”

He’s beginning to breathe fast, eyes dark.

A nurse chooses that moment to breeze into the room. It’s only when Walt removes his hand from between my legs and turns to face the window that I see the tented fly of his pants. I’m already slippery just from having him close. But that wetness increases tenfold to see his obvious arousal.

“Now, darling,” says the nurse while wrapping the blood pressure cuff around my arm. After a moment, she laughs. “That’s quite a rapid heart rate. Maybe I should call the doctor.”

“No,” I say quickly, looking directly at Walt. “It’s him. He does this to me.”

Love pours from this man, chaotic and enduring and deep.

A few minutes later when the nurse leaves the room, I beckon Walt closer with a crook of my finger and a little pout. “Coco, I can’t. I can’t. You’re hurt.”

I kick off the covers and tug my hospital gown up to my hips, spreading my thighs and letting him see my panties. A groan and two lunging steps later, he’s getting into the bed with me, turning me on my side in a spooning position. He yanks down my panties and enters me slowly, biting the nape of neck once he’s all the way inside.

“Goddamn. You tell me if it hurts. You tell me to stop if it’s too much.”

“Another order, Daddy?” I flirt over my shoulder.

His whole body rumbles.

“That’s right. Now follow it. This pussy is bad for my conscience,” he heaves into my hair. “But hell if it isn’t perfect in every other way. Perfect just like you. My love.” He pulls out and pumps back deep, driving me up the bed, panting into the curve of my neck. “My fiancée. My obsession. Mine forever.”

I reach down and massage my clit, pleasure already beginning to mount. “Yours forever,” I agree. Then I ask, “Will you ever take an order from me, Daddy?”

“Anything,” he rasps in my ear, like a secret. “Anything you want.”

My lips curl into a smile. “Rough me up.”

I’m rolled onto my stomach with impatient hands and the bed squeaks for the next hour uncontrollably, his frenzied grunts sounding in my ear.