Hold On (Page 155)

“And got a lock on tickets for the Colts’ next home game. Need to know from you if I should get two or if Feb can make it so you can come with us.”

At his words, my head shot up and I looked in his eyes.

“What?”

“Colts versus Saints. Sunday after next. Can you get Feb to arrange that day off?”

“You’re buyin’ tickets?” I asked.

“Uh…yeah. Just said that, babe.”

“Colts tickets are expensive, Merry.”

“Maybe, Cherie, but Ethan told me he’d never been to a game.”

I shook my head. “He hasn’t, but…Swank’s…” I let that hang since that said it all.

And what it said was that he was a cop, not a Rockefeller. Dinner at Swank’s for four could easily set him back close to five hundred bucks. I’d never been to a Colts game either, so I didn’t know how much tickets cost. But I knew they didn’t give them away.

“Yes, that’s his present,” Merry confirmed. “Steak you can cut with a fork and a Colts game.”

I stared down at him, totally uncertain what to do.

Because in all the boons Merry had given me, straight up, this was the one that was the most amazing.

It was also one I had to control.

“Gorgeous,” I started carefully, “I love the generosity, but you’d break the bank if you try to give him all the things he hasn’t gotten in life.”

“Brown eyes,” he returned, sounding like he was being careful too, “he’s already gotten all the important things he needs to get in life. He’s smart, so he knows that. And since he’s smart and knows that, appreciates it, and shows that by bein’ a good kid and lookin’ after his mom and grandma, he should be rewarded for being the good kid he is by being able to go to a Colts game.”

“You’re lookin’ at buyin’ a house,” I reminded him.

“There’s always gonna be houses. But there’ll only be this one opportunity to take a newly-turned eleven-year-old boy to his first Colts game.”

That feel hit my eyes, and when it did, it hit simultaneously in my throat and my belly.

Merry’s face warmed.

He knew what I was feeling.

And he knew me, so he didn’t say shit about it.

He asked, “So, you gonna ask Feb for the day off?”

“Yeah, I’m gonna ask Feb for the day off.”

His hands stopped drifting on my back and he wrapped his arms around me. “Then I’ll get three tickets.”

I shoved my face in his neck and muttered, “That’d be cool, Merry.”

We lay there together, connected, a girl who never allowed herself to dream, lying on top of a dream come true.

When it was time, Merry slid me up to slide himself out of me. He shifted us. He shifted the covers. He went to the bathroom to deal with the condom. And he came back, shifting us so I was exactly where I’d been before he’d moved me.

Lying on top of a dream come true.

“Why Rivers?”

Merry asked that, and hearing it, I lifted my head to look at him again.

“Why what?”

“Rivers, baby. You could have picked any last name you wanted. I like it. It’s cool. But why’d you pick Rivers?”

I shrugged, dropped my head, and nuzzled my face in his throat again while giving him the simple answer.

“I like water.”

“You like water?”

I nodded against his neck and gave him more.

“Mom’s always been a waitress. Dad’s always been a deadbeat. She couldn’t give me a lot, but she tried to make sure every summer we went on vacation. Without any money, we didn’t go far and we didn’t have much. Shitty motels. Diner food. But she did her best. And she always found water. Driving us to some lake. Putting our asses on a Greyhound down to Florida and hitting some seedy hotel, but one that was on a beach. We didn’t give a shit it was seedy or cheap. I was an asshole to her, but not on vacation. We had fun. We relaxed. We forgot life sucked.”

I lifted my head to look at him and kept talking.

“Good times. The only really good times probably for the both of us that weren’t clouded by the shit of life or my bent to be a pain in her ass. So I like water. Maybe it’s because I just like water. But I think it’s because Mom busted her ass to give me those times and it means something to me because my mom means something to me. And because it reminds me she gave me the most important thing I ever got—all I need to be a good mom to the kid I got. I couldn’t call myself Cher Lake or Cher Ocean or Cher Beach. So I picked Rivers. It works.”

“Yeah,” he said. “It works.”

But the way he said that, my attention on him sharpened.

And when I saw what I was pretty sure I saw, I accused, “You’re plannin’ a vacation for you, me, Ethan, and maybe even my mom somewhere near water, aren’t you?”

The faraway look in his eyes vanished and he smiled at me.

“Caught,” he whispered.

God, it had happened.

No, it kept happening.

I’d hoped. For the first time I’d hoped—hoped I was wrong that life couldn’t get better.

And he kept proving me wrong.

“You’re never gonna get a new house at this rate,” I warned.

“Yeah, I am,” he replied. “Shower sex with you is fantastic. Sink sex with you is out of this fuckin’ world. But you only got one bathroom in your pad and your boy is right next door to that and right across the hall from your room. And when you and Ethan come for sleepovers, I’m good with getting creative but not a big fan of having my options limited. So at least one of us needs a house that offers me options. Since it’s doubtful you can even disassemble your tribute to the flower generation and reassemble it in a new place, much less wanna do that, it’s up to me to find it. And a man will go to great lengths for options, which include the possible option of future vacation sex.”