This Is Love, Baby (War & Peace #2) (31 page)

Love is selfish and she always gets what she wants.

And Love is the one who’s teamed up with Fate. They, for some crazy-ass reason, think I deserve this beautiful life.

The war in my heart still wages on.

But this?

My gaze flits from my daughter’s blonde curls to War’s joyous grin as he watches us from beside his father. I rub my belly and smile back at them.
This is peace, baby.

If you love someone, set them free.

Whoever made up that crock of shit line should be shot in the head. If you love someone, you should protect them. Watch over them. Make sure they’re happy. You should do whatever it takes to see their breathtaking smile over and over again.

You most certainly don’t set them free.

That would be stupid and unsatisfying.

I know love and it grows each day with every grin on her pretty face—smiles I can’t seem to get enough of.

“A storm’s rolling in,” a sexy, husky voice says behind me, distracting me from my thoughts.

I groan in pleasure when she wraps her arms around my waist and lays her cheek on my bare back. Alejandra is my angel. My miracle. And I owe her my life.

“The beach is still busy,” I muse as my eyes zero in on the little girl playing in the sand farther up the beach. “What do you think? Another thirty minutes and it’ll be pouring down rain?”

She pulls away and then finds my hand. I squeeze her soft palm before bringing it to my lips and pressing a kiss to the back of it. Alejandra has the hands of an angel. My wife is a surgeon and a damn good one at that. She’s always babbling after a few days’ worth of rounds about the many lives she’s either improved or saved. I listen with rapt attention because I owe it to her. Because at one time, she saved me.

Her long, almost black hair whips around her in the wind. I remember the first time I saw her. The day I stumbled onto the deck of her old house farther up the coast, soaking wet, pushed through her back door, and collapsed on her kitchen floor. She’d been shocked at first but when she crouched next to me to take my pulse, I’d stared straight into her honey-colored eyes and said, “I’m not ready to die.”

Her shocked features turned sad for a moment before a look of sheer determination took over. Alejandra saved me that day on her kitchen floor. She performed what I call a miracle and nursed me back to health in her home.

My wife never asked questions.

She never probed into my past.

Alejandra protected me when I was unable to protect myself.

“God sent you to me,” she’d said with utmost certainty.

And I never argued.

Maybe it was divine intervention. God must have been playing in our lives because when I’d seen the wedding photos on her mantle later after I’d healed, I saw her kissing a man with dark, wavy hair and deep brown eyes. I learned it was her late husband. Alejandra was a widow. And her previous husband resembled me. Little did she know, she’d traded in her good guy with one of the bad. But maybe, just maybe, God didn’t care. He knew deep down I deserved a second chance at happiness. I’d always be a bad guy, but bad guys deserve love too, right?

Long before she moved from Venezuela to California, she’d been married to Johan Cruz-Diez. He’d been the love of her life before a sudden and massive heart attack stole him from the stunning doctor.

And man, is she stunning.

Alejandra has curves in all the right places. I love clutching her thick thighs when she rides my cock, her big tits bouncing heavily in front of me. My dick twitches and I smile. She’s also quite a needy freak in bed. I guess losing your husband and then finding him again will make a woman insatiable. I’m all too happy to satisfy her needs.

“We better close up the patio umbrella so it doesn’t blow away, Johan,” she tells me as she bends to pick up a shell. I admire her big, round ass in her turquoise bathing suit that makes her skin seem more tan than usual. Her ass is fucking divine.

“I’ll take care of it,” I promise and squeeze a handful of her ass as she stands. “I want you naked and on your knees when I get back inside. I’m ready to fuck my beautiful wife.”

Her eyes close and she lifts her chin toward the heavens, her thick, red lips parted. I know she’s thanking God for sending me to her. After that day she healed me, she always called me Johan, her dead husband’s name. And I never corrected her. It simply made it easier to obtain an identification as him and fall into the perfect life he left. Into his wife’s tight, gorgeous ass.

Definitely divine intervention.

And here I thought God didn’t like the devil. That he was an outcast shunned from heaven. Clearly, I was mistaken.

“I love you, Johan,” she tells me, a fierce love burning bright in her eyes.

Tugging her to me, I spear my fingers into her wild hair and kiss her hard enough to steal her breath. When she’s gasping for air, I pull away and flash her a grin. “I love you too, sweet girl.”

She beams at me before bouncing away back toward our home. I know in another fifteen minutes, she’ll be screaming Johan’s name as I shove my cock into her tight ass. I’ll come all over her back and tell her how much I love her too.

Of course we both know her love will never measure up. It’ll never be the true love that owns the rest of my heart—a love that’s actually a genetic piece of me. But like we’ve done from day one, Alejandra and I play our parts to indulge the needs of each other. It’s what makes us happy.

It’s how a perfect marriage works.

My gaze drags back over to
her
. The one with the brilliant, bright smile, pretty blue eyes, and silky blonde hair. I ignore the men behind her as they gather up blankets, toys, and lawn chairs. I even ignore the pregnant one—the one with long, pale locks that whip in the wind. The one who used to consume my every thought.

Not anymore.

She now shares that place with someone equally important.

Someone just as perfect.

And
that
is true love.

The last day I was with her, I overheard her telling her stupid, pussy boy ex-boyfriend that she was pregnant. Pregnant with
my
child. She didn’t need to say those words—that I was the father—I knew.

I frown thinking about ‘ol pussy boy. A better man would mourn his death, feel things like guilt, remorse, pity, but I am not a better man. Quite frankly, I feel nothing for him. I do have to hand it to him, though, for fighting for what he wanted. And he did put up a good fight. But in the end, we were at war. He was in my way, and there could only be one man left standing—no room for boys.

My thoughts leave the past as I stare at my future. Pride blossoms in my chest and I grin at the little girl playing on the beach. Of course, she can’t see me from this distance, but I know it’s her. I’ll watch over my beautiful daughter each day and then one day, when she’s old enough to understand, I will explain to her who her real father is. Maybe when she’s seven. Her mother certainly seemed well aware of me by that age—the age I pulled my car into the driveway next to her house that first time. Those blue orbs of hers shimmered from her front porch with curiosity and instant adoration. I expect it will be the same way for my daughter when that time comes.

I will pull her into my arms and never let go.

I’ll give Alejandra the child Johan was never able to.

I’m a patient man and will make this happen, in time. Until then, I’ll enjoy my new life. The life Johan wasn’t man enough to hang on to.

With one last longing gaze at my child who is now saddled on her mother’s hip, I turn and leave her. As raindrops begin to pelt me, I trudge through the sand back to the house and up the steps of the back deck. Efficiently, I work the handle of the umbrella and secure it as I promised my wife I would.

Once inside, I shove my swim trunks down to the floor and follow the trail of sand that leads to where she’ll be waiting on her hands and knees. With my dick in hand, I smile at how sweet life really is, and fist my cock several times to prime myself for Alejandra’s tight hole.

They say the good guys always win, right?

I chuckle darkly to myself.

Not this time.

The End.

Where Is My Mind?
– Pixies

Don’t Walk Away
– The Mayfield Four

The Funeral
– Band of Horses

Make a Shadow
– Meg Myers

Sorry
– Meg Myers

Stay With Me
– Sam Smith

Desire
– Meg Myers

No One’s Gonna Love You
– Band of Horses

Terrible Lie
– Nine Inch Nails

Closer
– Nine Inch Nails

You Were Meant For Me
– Jewel

Foolish Games
– Jewel

The Way
– Saigon Kick

Thank you to my husband, Matt. You are always there for me and keep me standing when my own two feet give out. You’re my rock and my encourager. And you keep me laughing…
always
. I love you, incredibly so.

A huge thanks to Nikki McCrae—you are the best friend a girl could have. No matter what, you lift me up and push me to be all that I can be. And when I’m down, you lift me back up. Our friendship goes beyond the book world. Love ya, girl!

Thank you to Sunny Borek, my dark heart sister, for loving Gabe when not many people would. Bad boys need love too! Keep being awesome!

I want to thank the people who read my books early and give me incredible support. Nikki McCrae, Wendy Colby, Elizabeth Clinton, Ella Stewart, Nicky Crawford, Jessica Hollyfield, Amy Bosica, Shannon Martin, Brooklyn Miller, Robin Martin, Amy Simms, Nancy Miller, Nikki Cole, Dena Marie, and Sunny Borek. (I hope I didn’t forget anyone) You guys always provide AMAZING feedback. You all give me helpful ideas to make my stories better and give me incredible encouragement. I appreciate all of your comments and suggestions.

A big thank you to my author friends who have given me your friendship and your support. You have no idea how much that means to me.

Thank you to all of my blogger friends both big and small that go above and beyond to always share my stuff. You all rock! #AllBlogsMatter