Make Me Sin (Bad Habit, #2)

by J.T. Geissinger

“Idi spat, laskovaya moya. Spat.”

I reach up and touch his face. “I hurt you, somehow, don’t I? Being near me hurts you.” His lashes flutter. In a low, choked voice that sounds like it rises from the deepest pit of hell, A.J. answers, “Being near you makes me want to die.”

“Because you have a smile like a sunrise and eyes that could end all wars, and you have no idea, you have no fucking clue, that when you look at me, you’re looking at a dead man.” His face twists with misery. His eyes are wet. When he speaks, his voice cracks. “But mostly because you give me hope. You fucking haunt me with hope. And I can’t forgive you for that. Now get the hell out and don’t ever come back!”

“Nice to meet you, Tom. Normally I can’t stand lawyers because they’re such money-grubbing fucks, but your daughter loves and admires you, so you must be all right.”

“I’m totally off the grid, Tom. The safest place she can be is with me.” He finally breaks our locked gazes to look at my father. “And if somehow the impossible happened and that bastard did find out where I live and showed up there . . . he’d never be seen again.”

“You’ll never be alone again, Chloe, not if you don’t want to be. Okay?” Then he looks at me, really looks at me, letting me see the emotion in his eyes. I hear what he’s saying, what he’s asking, and my vision gets blurry. All of my energy goes into trying not to ugly cry. “Okay.”

“Sweet angel, I’ve wanted you since the first time I heard you sing.” That stops me dead. “Um . . . what?” He wraps his arms around me, and rests his forehead on my shoulder. His heart thumps a steady beat against my breasts. “I heard you singing to yourself one day. Nine months ago, to be exact. The day Nico and I first came into your shop to get flowers for Kat. I’ll never forget it, no matter how long I live.”

“I came inside the shop first. Nico was still talking to Barney in the car, but I’d been working in the studio all day and couldn’t stand another second of being cooped up. And as soon as I opened the door and stepped inside, I heard your voice. I didn’t know it was you, but I heard this woman singing to herself somewhere just out of sight. I thought I would die right there, next to the rack of Hallmark cards, from sheer bliss.” When he looks at me his eyes are endless, full of what I can only describe as love. “Your voice, Chloe. The colors of your voice are like . . . fucking . . . heaven.”

“You and your goddamn eighties rock. That’s what you were singing. You were hitting all the high notes, too, all the hard ones, without missing a beat. And it was like the Fourth of July and a Vegas laser show and the northern lights, all rolled into one. I was blinded. Frozen. I couldn’t move. I’d never heard or seen anything so beautiful. No occlusions or breaks, no cracks or wobbles, just pure, totally effortless perfection, surrounding me on every side, raining over me like a shower of precious jewels.”

“Then why did you act like you hated me so much? If you thought I was so beautiful, why did you always snarl at me and push me away? Why did you tell me I make you want to die?” A.J.’s eyes are so soft it breaks my heart. “You remember the famous saying from Jacques Cousteau?” I nod, sniffling. “That’s why. Because for a man like me, the most beautiful, dangerous creature of all is love. I fell in love with you sight unseen, just from the sound of your voice, and I knew if I didn’t make you hate me, I’d do the most selfish thing in the world and try to make you mine.”

“You’re pregnant?” I nod, wiping tears from my cheeks with the back of my hand. He inhales, lashes fluttering, then whispers, “You’re carrying my child? We’re having a baby?” I nod again, breaking out into a slightly hysterical laugh. His grip on my wrist loosens. He opens his hand, reaching out for my face. I lean down, much more carefully this time, and press a soft kiss to his lips. His eyes close. His fingers stroke my cheek, tracing my jawline. “Well, then. I guess this won’t be the only surgery I’ll be having this month.” Hope surges through me. I stare at him, waiting, not daring to speak. Faintly, he says, “I don’t know if they can get it all; it’s too big now. They said I only have a few months left. But it might buy me more time.” “But . . . Heavenly . . . she said . . . she said if they take out the tumor that you’d go blind.” His lashes lift, and he looks at me with so much love and adoration my heart swells until it feels like it will burst. He whispers, “Small price to pay to hear someone call me ‘Daddy,’ don’t you think?” My supply of tears is inexhaustible, because here they come again. “If you wanted to be called Daddy, I would’ve happily obliged!”

“I love you,” I murmur with every press of my lips against his skin. “I love you. I love you so much. You saved me, A.J. You saved my life.” “We saved each other, angel,” he murmurs, and then falls back asleep.

“Hey. Listen to me now. I’m going. To be. Okay. We’ve got the house all set up right for when I get home, we’ve got the rehab specialist scheduled to help out, I’m learning braille. And if Stevie Wonder can play the keyboard without his sight, I can sure as hell play the drums without mine.”

“Honey put me down, you can’t carry me!” “Hell if I can’t,” A.J. growls. “I’m not letting my woman walk to the car when she’s about to have my baby. Nico, lead the way.” So Nico, moving as quickly and carefully as possible while leading a blind man and a pregnant woman, guides us through the house and into the garage.