Yield (Cal and Macy's Story 3)

She turns her face inward, pressing a kiss right in the center of my sternum, and I can feel the heat of her lips through the cotton t-shirt I donned. Macy tilts her head back and a ray of sun catches the blue in her eyes... electrifies the color and enhances the sparkle.

I could get lost in those eyes.

"I didn't start that diary until after I had been through a lot of counseling. The psychologist that suggested the journal said it would help release my pain, and he was right. I put all of my thoughts into it. It was the one place I could be totally honest, and there are things in there I would have never even told Mac."

"Secrets aren't a bad thing," I point out as I stare down at her.

"No, they're not," she murmurs. "But one of the things I wanted to share with you was why I was drawn to you. And it does have to do with sex... I mean, that was sort of the catalyst that got us from verbal sparring to calm conversation?"

I cock an eyebrow at her. "Not following."

"After... what Luke did to me... I..." she says, her gaze falling to my chest.

Cupping her under the chin with my fingers, I say, "You can tell me anything. What did I tell you before? It will only make me love you more."

Her eyes come back up, filled with confidence. "While I enjoyed sex... it was the overall act of it that I got off on. I told you this before... it's where I got attention... affirmation. But... I just never really got the big bang when I was with a man, if you know what I mean."

Is she saying what I think she's saying?

"You mean, you never orgasmed before?" I ask in astonishment.

"No. I mean, yes, I have orgasmed before, but it was rare and it was usually with a lot of work on my part, but Cal... it was always just so tepid. Uninspiring. I never saw what the big deal was."

"But with me..." I say, understanding dawning bright within me. "I remember that first time... you came really hard. Really fast."

"So fast," she says with an impish smile. "It stunned me. And at first, I just accepted it as an amazing feeling and that you must just be really, really good at sex. But I quickly realized after that, it wasn't just physical. There was always an emotional connection. Even though we argued like siblings all the time, I really knew a lot of wonderful things about you. That you were dedicated to justice. That you protected Mac. That you were smart, loyal, and kind to others. I think my heart had already recognized a connection with you... even if I would never have admitted it out loud. I think that's why it's always been so explosive with you from the start."

Leaning down, I give her a soft kiss. "I think I know exactly what you mean."

"And Cal... while you manage to generate all of this excitement and wild energy within me, you also quiet me. I don't think my soul has ever felt as quiet and calm as when I'm with you. You're the only person in the world who makes me feel that way. You're the only man I will ever love."

Intense pleasure electrifies within me over those words. My heart practically bursts outward as a wave of pure joy washes through me. I try to memorialize that feeling... hold on to it, because as of this moment... hearing those words... that is the best feeling I've ever felt in my entire life.

She goes to her tiptoes, bringing her face closer to mine. I meet her... we kiss softly... as gentle as the breeze that sifts through the orchard. I've never felt closer to another human being, and the odd thing is... I know that this is only the beginning of the foundation we're laying. I'm filled with immeasurable hope, a frenzy of excitement, and an inner peace that settles in deep. The experiences we'll have will draw us even closer together.

It's the start of a new life for both of us.

Epilogue

Four years and some change later...

I open the bottom desk drawer and pull out all the hanging files, slap them on top, and then sit down in the squeaky chair. I've been promising Macy for two months I'd get our home office cleaned out and because it's snowing so bad outside that I couldn't make it in to work today, it appears I don't have an excuse to put it off any longer.

We've been in this apartment for over three years now, and we mutually decided it was right for us. She didn't want to live in her apartment and I didn't ask why, but I suspect because it was too representative of the old Macy. Don't get me wrong... there's still plenty of the old Macy inside of her, and much to my benefit, it's the wild-and-crazy-in-the-sack Macy that I get to see the most of.

I didn't want us to live in my apartment because it was way too small. Even though Macy said she'd cut down on her wardrobe, there just wasn't enough from for both of us.

So we compromised.

In fact, it was our first big decision and compromise we made as a couple.

I think we handled it well. We only got into one small fight while apartment hunting. But ultimately, Macy won me over even though I had my doubts about the location of this one, especially since it would add on an extra fifteen minutes to my commute. Let's just say I may have gotten special sexual favors for a month in exchange for my agreement. That was totally a win for me.

And in the three years we've been here, we've just managed to accumulate more junk, so it seems there's just never enough space. I suppose it's a lot like life... you just have to choose those things that are essential to your happiness and cut the chaff away.

The first folder has our bank statements and reconciliations. That would not be chaff so I stick it on top of the desk.

The next folder has recipes Macy must have cut out from some magazines. Seeing as how she's not that great of a cook, and I don't see her ever trying any of these, I go ahead and toss them.

I continue through all the folders, tossing probably fifty percent of the stuff and saving the rest. The very last folder is thick and held closed by several rubber bands. I know I didn't put it there, so I'm curious as I open it up.

Inside is Macy's leather diary and beneath it, several news articles.

I hadn't seen the diary in a couple of years. It often floated around the apartment, usually stuck on some shelf, and then when we needed space, it got moved somewhere else. Macy must have relegated it to this folder a long time ago.

I set the diary aside and start flipping through the news articles. Most are from the New York Times but a few are from the Post. I don't bother reading them because I know what they say. Still, I can't help but peruse through and take some joy from the headlines.

Carrington Brothers Guilty, Investors to Recover Losses

That article came out just two days after Macy told me she loved me in the apple orchard. Dee was really nice and called Macy up to thank her again for her help. We keep in touch with her because she's just kind of a cool woman, and you never know when you might need the help of a federal prosecutor.

Quarter Mine Executives Sentenced

This was a particularly good news day for me. Travis and Luke Carrington were each sentenced to forty-two years in prison as part of the plea. With good behavior, Travis might see the outside of a jail cell before he dies.

Not Luke though.

He's buried in an unmarked grave because he was a pauper. He had no money for a marker and no one cared enough to pay for one. I'd like to tell you he died gloriously... maybe while being gang raped in jail, but alas, he died from liver cancer about six months ago. The only way we know this is because there was a small article in the Post that Matt saw.

Perhaps the best article... the one that might not have been written but for Macy's heroic actions in facilitating this plea deal, is on the bottom. I pick it up and read the headline.

Defrauded Quarter Mine Investors Reimbursed

The article went into detail about how the money was apportioned and even showcased a few of the victims' lives. Macy was so happy when she saw it that she wanted to go out and celebrate with a night out on the town. If memory serves me correctly, I convinced her to stay in, eat pizza in bed, and celebrate with a few orgasms. She agreed later that my plan was better.

Just like much of what's in Macy's past, this information has been collected and it sits in a dark corner. Sometimes we discuss it, but mostly, Macy is done with that time of her life. She's never spoken to her father or uncle since the day she confronted them. She's had some limited dealings with her mother, who has gone to live with a sister in California, but that consists mostly of her mom calling to ask for money, which Macy always declines. Macy will in turn ask how her mother is doing, who will lay out the sob story of her life. Macy will listen patiently, never commiserates, and is always nice when she hangs up.

She's a fucking saint.

I'd tell that evil bitch where to stick it if she ever were to call me.

I close the folder, put the rubber bands back around it, and place it in the pile of things to be saved, which I then immediately take and put into a white banker's box. Putting the lid on, I write "Office" on the top with a black Sharpie and push it aside.

That should complete the packing up of this room.

"Brought you some coffee," Macy says from the doorway.

The chair squeaks horribly as I turn to look at her, and trust me when I say that Macy has just gotten more beautiful over the years. Her hair is colored a chocolate brown now, which to my surprise, I found out was her real color. I never knew this since she waxed real proof of it away from down below. It's also cut shorter, just down to her shoulders, but she claims she likes the simplicity of it.

She could be bald and I'd still think she was beautiful.

As she hands the cup to me, my fingers slide along hers as I take it, bumping right over the diamond ring and wedding band on her fourth finger. I put that engagement ring on her finger within just weeks of that plea deal getting signed and married her just as quickly. We opted for a low-key wedding at my parents' farm with just my family and the Connovers in attendance.

I take a sip of the coffee before setting it down on the desk. My hands reach out, take Macy by the hips, and pull her toward me as I sit in the chair. She comes willingly with a gentle smile on her face. I pull her in all the way, right until the large swell of her belly is before me. I place a kiss on it before looking up at her.

"Feeling okay?" I ask.

"My back hurts but otherwise great."

"I'll give you a massage when we go to bed," I promise as I stand from the chair. I pull her in for a quick hug, which is completely awkward with eight months of baby growing inside of her between us.