Communion (On My Knees Duet 3)

I hold baby a little closer. “It feels good to me, too.”

She feels good. I look down at her. Such a sweet little bundle. To think of anyone using her as a paycheck… I smile at her pretty little face, so she doesn’t know the thoughts I’m having about her birth mom. But—fuck me—I don’t know how I could stand to give her up now that we’ve had her—even for just one night.

“I’m only worried about it hurting you,” I tell Sky. “I want her, but I want to be sure you’re happy. Like, really happy. I don’t want a hit on your reputation if you want to avoid that.”

"I’m happy, Vanny. We've waited for each other for years. Wanted each other. Thought about this. You were how I put myself to sleep for a long time before Pearl hired you for the mural."

"What do you mean?" I ask softly. I love all these details, even though they make me sad.

Sky doesn't answer for a second. "When I couldn't get to sleep, I would just think about you. Think back to your arms around me. How it felt to have your head tucked under my chin...the way you'd kiss my throat and forehead and under my ear. Even how you lay against me. You hold nothing back, Rayne. You give every part of yourself, and you're patient and good." I think I hear his voice catch. "You give me more than I deserve."

"That's just bullshit. It’s not true, and also, deserve's a shit concept. You know I love you because that's the only thing I can do." I peer down at the baby, who blinks up at me as she sucks lazily on her bottle, her eyelids sagging like she might drift off. "Same way I looked at this baby here and felt like we just knew her. When Carrie first took her, I felt sick. Like I had let go of something I should have held onto a little tighter."

"If she really is supposed to be ours, I'm not surprised you felt that way."

"My mom used to say I'm witchy." I smile at the memory.

"In the church, sometimes it's called discernment. Or maybe prophecy, if you want to get evangelical about it."

"I don't know if I do. Do I?"

He chuckles. "I'm pleading the fifth on matters of denominational philosophy."

"I don't know what the word denominational means, so plead away, sweetheart."

"Sweetheart." It's a raspy whisper.

“You are.”

"I don’t know about that." But I can tell he's pleased by the endearment. I make a mental note to use it again.

"I love you." I lean my head against the couch and shut my eyes, holding little Eden closer. "If we can't keep this baby, we'll have another one when the time's right. I say we leave it up to the universe. And just try to stick to the moment. We're a fucking scandal? Oh, I give a shit."

He lets a breath out. "You're right, Rayne." He laughs, soft. "Or are you anymore?"

I grin as I realize he’s right. "I'm McD2. McExtra. Hubby. Mister."

"I might still have to call you Rayne. Force of habit."

"I can still be Rayne for you. It's a middle name now."

He lets out a rough sigh. "I'm so afraid this is about to blow up. I don’t even care about that, though. Not really. I’m ready to start a new church if I have to. Now my only worry is you.”

"What, because this woman said we both had sex with her? I don't give a shit, Sky. Nothing scandalous about that."

"Do you wish we had?"

"What?" I laugh. "No."

"I get scared you'll realize you miss pussy."

"I've thought of nothing but that big dick of yours since the first night I saw it. Wanting to suck it and feel it pushing into me. Wanting to sit down on it, rub it against mine, see it leaking cum as I fuck you from behind. I'm a cockatarian now, baby. Nothing but the D for me."

I'm rewarded with a hearty laugh from Luke.

"Don't you worry yourself about this shit, Sky baby. Worry about whatever stuff the church wants you to worry with. And call me if it gets too much. Even if you don't want me up there, I can tell you I love you."

"I love you so much, Vance Rayne McDowell."

"I love you more. And call your mother so she doesn't think we had a threesome and forgot to pay somebody for making a baby."

Despite the bullshit that’s still swimming around in my head, Eden and I have a nice morning. I don't want to cause a ruckus by taking her out, so I consider having someone get us all the baby things we need. The problem is, I want to do it. Even if we can’t keep her, I want to do this right—because what if it does work out?