“Hm, the mother was killed. The lynx was a small one, no more than a few months old. My great-grandfather was on the beach bringing in cargo he was smuggling. Soldiers were close by and almost caught him. When they heard the lynx, they took off, saving him from being found and killed. He took the lynx home when he realized it was starving and close to death. They repaid each other for the rest of their lives. No one messed with him, as the lynx was extremely protective over the one who fed him.”
“Hm...” I trail my hand over his chest. “I often think of you as one of those big cats, all muscle and sinew then you get all growly. What did they name the lynx?”
He laughs. “Meatball.”
God, I love it when he laughs. I wish he did it more often. The sound sends heat from my chest to the apex of my thighs. And I can’t resist squirming in his lap.
His hands come up and cup my face, pulling me down to his mouth. Sweet and gentle, it’s so different from the way he usually kisses me it ravages me in a completely different way. I moan at the loss of his mouth. “Lisa is back in town. She called for you. I okayed her coming to the house today. We’ll see her together first, then I’ll let you spend some time with her alone.”
“Okay, I’m going to tell her I met you and changed my mind. She was right. When it came down to it, I couldn’t do it. I don’t want to do it.”
“Good girl.”
***
Christy
I was afraid of how seeing Lisa with Tony right there would go. But it went smoothly, and Lisa wasn’t surprised in the least. In the end, she couldn’t stay long though. Being away for a week her regulars were getting cranky. As Tony walks her out to the door, I look around the living room we’re rarely in. We usually spend our time in the kitchen or the library in the evening.
Tony walks back to me, “What?”
“You really want me to change things?” I motion to the room.
The dimple flashes at me. I melt at how happy he looks. “Yes, I want you to make this your home too.”
“Okay, I’ll start in here. I won’t touch the kitchen or your library because I love both.” I promise.
Walking toward me, he pulls me to him. “Next, you do our bedroom.”
“Or I could start in there.” I wrap my arms around his neck and bring him down to me.
12
Christy
It isn’t easy to redo the bedroom because I do like it. However, Tony gives me some ideas, and in a week, we have a brand new bed, complete with mattress and bedding. I went with one wall wallpapered and new art we picked out from his amazing personal collection he has in the basement. The collection Gertrude had mentioned was indeed real. He has two Cassatts, three Degas, a Monet, and a Renoir. Two of them were reported stolen by the owners, he admitted.
The day my period comes, I already start the day in a bad mood. I’m not able to go shopping for the new living room furniture because something takes Tony out of the house. I’m stuck in the house with Paolo who doesn’t want to take me shopping, in case I get away from him. Even though Tony told him to. He flatly refuses, saying he would rather have Tony mad than lose his hands. I don’t understand what the hell he’s talking about.
Angry at Tony for still keeping me locked in the house, and with a babysitter. I stomp to the basement and try to work out my anger. I start with the treadmill and hate it. When it doesn’t help, I try and beat the heavy bag but damn, that hurts.
At the feeling of a rush of liquid between my legs, I go still. No, no. I really thought I might be pregnant. Running upstairs, I go into the bathroom, and the blood tells me I’m wrong. Thank god, Tony isn’t here to see me lose it as I go through the duffle bag and grab the box of tampons. My hands are shaking as I put it in.
After having a long cry in the jetted bathtub in Tony’s bathroom that’s even nicer than the one in the guest room, I climb into bed and try to lose myself in sleep. I wake up to Tony looking down at me. He runs a finger over my cheek.
“I’m sorry, baby. Patience. Just because it didn’t happen this month doesn’t mean it won’t happen.”
I hate that I start crying all over again. Tony pulls me into his arms and simply holds me as I cry.
All I want to do is stay in bed and hide. Tony is insistent that I get out of bed. We go shopping for furniture together. I flinch when he says to the salesperson, he doesn’t want light-colored furniture because of how dirty it can get with small children. Anxiety is building inside me all over again that I won’t be able to give him the children he wants.
From the furniture store we go out to dinner. Tony refuses to discuss my fear, reminding me that I’m not allowed to think. Asshole.
After dinner, we go home. I try to go upstairs. Tony picks me up and takes me into the library. Putting me down in a chair, he hands me the book I was reading last night.
“You can read, or we can work on your Italian. You are not going to hide like a child. You are going to face your disappointment. You don’t get to pretend like it didn’t happen.”
“What if I can’t get pregnant? Answer me that? What if, after all the treatments and more miscarriages you face facts it’s not going to happen for me?” The words pour out of me. I hate how my voice shakes with fear.