Catching Preeya (Paradise South Book 3) (39 page)

CHAPTER 57

T
he cabbie put
Preeya’s
carry-on
in the trunk while she lumbered into the backseat. “Jetta Air Departures, please.” She hugged her purse to her chest and exhaled until she was empty. Nothing left to do. She’d gotten Amy’s wedding planner in touch with Stacy who reserved the beach behind the Airington—the ceremony
after
the turtle release, which had been Ben’s niece’s idea. Then on to Las Caletas for their celebration by torchlight under the stars. They’d head to their Marietas for their honeymoon the following day. Their
real
honeymoon.

The only unplanned, unpredictable variable—Ben. God willing,
Ben
.

Her pulse spiked, teeth clenched. Wasn’t this what she asked for, the thrill? The unknown? Yes.
Sky’s the limit, Pree.
And her limitless love for Ben, her sky—he was worth everything. Worth it
all
.

Screech.
The cabbie slammed on the brakes. Her equilibrium got thrown to
Sea-Tac
while she and her fetus remained in the cab.

“If you could take it easy on the stop and go”—she rubbed her belly and worked to catch her breath—“we, uh, just ate…and you seem to keep your cab in mint condition.” She lifted her brows and smiled.

He winked in his rearview. “Will do, ma’am. Sorry. Due in, what, three months?”

“Just about, yes.”

“I’m having a little one in just about that time, too. Exciting times.”

“Yes.” Her eyes shot down to her lap as she swallowed a tremendous knot of
anxiety-coated
…excitement. “A thrilling roller coaster ride, for sure.”

*

“Ben, I just feel like you ran again.”

His nostrils flared.

His sister threw her hand up to her jutted hip.

“I actually flew, Stacy, and it was absolutely not the same thing.”

“As what? The last time you ran from her?”

Fuck.
“That time she…she cut me off, out, up and down, when I told her about…it doesn’t matter. She figured it out, found me—”

“Alive, thank God. You
do
and
act
and
go
out of…spite. That’s what it is. First, to spite Jamie for dying, then her parents for that whole medical review fiasco—”

“Hold it…”

“No, I don’t blame your anger there, but…let me finish, little brother. Now you take this job in Texas, leaving your pregnant fiancée
out of spite
…” Stacy shook her head at him. “Thank God she’s as rock solid as she is for all she’s been through. But you know, the one you always end up hurting most is
you
. You don’t give yourself the time or space to…to…”

“To what? Dwell and rot? To settle? Look, past is past. Marriage is something I cherish. And my marriage was cut off, stolen from me. My next one has to be…worthy and…different, but better. And Preeya doesn’t want a husband. She wants…a follower, a support when it’s convenient.”

“I was married, Ben, and sorry, but it was as close to perfect as Mexico is to Canada. And—”

“And you, my dear sister…ran.”

“Whoa!”

“What? You did. You quit, took the kids, ran here to Puerto Vallarta,
holed-up
in your paradise cave. Max didn’t fit, so—”

“Max didn’t earn or help or care or—”

“Or what?”

“Or love us, Ben. Preeya does love
you
.”

“How do you know that?”

Stacy growled, literally growled. “She hunted you down to see if you were alive in Central Mexico, found you in Seattle, and now…now she’s alone in Seattle. While you’re here escaping. Again. Instead of, hey, doing one of a billion proactive things to work this out with her.”

His chest tightened. But he said nothing.

“What about a therapist?”

“She won’t see a therapist.”

“You wouldn’t, either. You are both so alike it hurts.”

“Well, last month I offered, for her own stuff, I offered, Stace. To go with her. I bent over backward, forward and through, damn it.”

“You can’t stop there. Why am I telling you this? You already did the long haul once, but that marriage…had an expiration date. Well, you gotta do it again. Push through again. Even if it’s hard.”

“I pushed, Stace. And she stopped me. I can’t do any more than I’ve done. It’s not fair to either of us.” He raked his hand through his hair and yanked for the pain. “Maybe we…we fell in lust instead of love…I don’t know.” But he did—he did know, and that’s what burned so bad. He far more than lusted for Preeya Patel. He loved her beyond and back…while she maybe, probably, seemed to have only lusted for him. An idea, an image, a dream.

“What about the baby?”

“I will be in that child’s life, Stacy. I will be that baby’s father—to the fullest extent of the title.” He swallowed back a knot of hard angst, picturing Preeya opening the front door, that little news anchor Evan or some other schmuck holding her waist while she held Ben’s baby. Handing him over for the weekend.

Fuck
.

His voice cracked. “We can work out custody…and be friends.”

“That’s insane, Ben. You love her.”

“I know I do, Stacy.” His chest heaved. “I know I do.”

He paced the room. His breath shallow, his spine staunch. “Bottom line, if she can’t come to me and discuss vital things, little things—everything—then it’s done. And I will…go through the courts. And I will…be fine.”

He ignored Stacy’s clucking and head shake of shame.

“Look, I still get a second chance at having my own kid. That’s more than I could’ve ever hoped for.” His chest lifted with a new fuller breath. “Preeya’s given me that chance. I’m thankful. For that, I’m so grateful.”

His eyes sank with his heart to the floor.

“She and I, though, we just…don’t know—and didn’t know—each other well enough.”

Stacy began to tear up. He grabbed the tissue box and handed it to her, then squeezed her shoulder. “It’s just better this way. It is. Why put a kid through inevitable heartache? Starting out honest, separate…it’s fair. It’s real.”

“Ben. You two are too…” Stacy’s eyed widened, tears broke free.

“It’s best, Stace.” His heart racked his ribs. Jamie really might’ve been his
one and
only
.

“This is
not
best.” Stacy’s sorrow morphed into a death glare, and it began to penetrate his cheek until a text—
thank God
—pinged her phone. “Shit—I forgot. My meeting with Phyllis.”

Ben narrowed his eyes.

“My editor. You met her a year ago? Oh, never mind. But”—she looked around the kitchen—“I didn’t make dinner. You and the kids—you’re comin’ with me.”

“I’ll make them food here, no prob—”

“It’s at their favorite spot…so move your butt!”

He looked down at his swim trunks, no top. “You guys go. I’m fine to lounge here…in my
sloth-wear
”—he opened and shut the fridge in a flash—“with a beer.”

“You need to get out of the house, Ben…and I’ll drive so you can get a drink at the resort. Kids! We’re going to the Airington. Wear your nicer outfits!”

Ben rolled his eyes and fumed. “Fine, but—”

“The baby turtle release is tonight!” Beth yelled as she trampled down the stairs in a white linen dress.

Ben found his smile. “You look very pretty, niece. Very
grown-up
.” Beth winked at her mom. “Thanks, Uncle Ben.” She smiled. “You should brush your hair and change…and then I
might
return the compliment.”

Stacy smirked; Ben huffed and shot a look at his sister. “I appreciate your honesty, Bethy.” He reached for Beth to knuckle her head.

“Stop, Uncle Ben!
My
hair is nice.”

She smoothed her hair as Ben hugged her—
carefully
. “Fine, I’ll change. But I’m wearing shorts if we’re doing another turtle release.”

Stacy cleared her throat. “Pants, Ben. The restaurant requires it.” He watched Stacy scurry for her purse and her laptop bag. How she forgot such important meetings, he didn’t know. “Yeah, just roll your pants up when you’re at the water. Oh, and a tie. You need a tie.”

“A tie? What the hell, Stace?”

“It’s their favorite place, Ben.” Her eyes got wide, imploring. “I saw one in your luggage so buck up and put it on. And please don’t bring that awful man purse.”

“You know what…I’m boycotting all women, you two included.” He heard Beth and Stacy snicker as he walked toward the stairs, then he glanced back over his shoulder. “And I’m bringing the
murse
!” He headed up to change. “Thank God I’m having a boy,” he muttered.

“A boy, Uncle Ben?” Beth bounced over to him. “A little boy—awesome! I can take him surfing and digging…a boy! It’s a boy, Mom!”

“I heard, sweetheart.” Stacy pulled Ben down from the steps for a hug. “Congrats, little brother.”

“Yeah, thanks.” It felt amazing.
And not
enough.

“So you’ve been in touch with the doctor?”

“Yes, actually, I have, to make sure she and the baby are good…but, I knew a couple of weeks ago…long story. But hey, tick tock, right?”

“Right, right…well, go—get dressed.”

Ben trod up the stairs, passing Peter on his way down. “A boy, huh? So, PJ or Peter, Jr.—just sayin’.”

Ben laughed. Yeah, a boy.
A baby boy.
He couldn’t wait to have and hold and love his
son
. Even though it would be without his Preeya.

*

Hidden from view, Preeya watched from behind the concierge partition as Stacy sent Ben to the reception desk—under whatever pretense—to be handed the letter.

It was her turn to bestow a handwritten message of her deepest sentiments to her truest love.

God willing, he’d read it.

*

Dr. Benjamin Trainer (aka Babe),

You.

How have you done it again?

Made me see?

See inside myself.

Given me a new lens. A lens that, hopefully, I am not too late in finding. You left it for me when you went away, when you escaped me, the one who is supposed to be your safe haven. I have failed you. I failed your heart, your ever-open, loving heart.

So here I am (don’t turn around yet, just keep reading), with reshuffled priorities. You and our child, our family, are my priority, the priority. All others need to wait in line.

Gigi (my best friend, my sister) included.

And as for my birth mother…I woke up to reason and logic (and to your wisdom) just in time. It turns out she’s alive in Tucson, but I don’t know anything more than that. Not worth our family’s well-being to find out.

But my mother by choice (and by law), Sylvia and my father are here, as is Stanton, and of course your sister (our child’s godmother) and our niece and nephew. They are all here to witness and celebrate our union (the union, I pray, you will re-agree to).

In other words, I am asking you, Ben Trainer, to marry me. With our Marietas and our families as witness—today, now (in a minute, you can turn around) on the beach behind this resort.

I want to walk through this life, this world, with you, and with no other.

Hand in hand, heart in heart.

Together.

Side by side.

I promise to choose us, Ben. I do. You—my escape artist, my heart—and me—the one at the bottom of the steepest learning curve ever known.

I choose us, if you’ll still have me (you can turn around now).

Marry me, babe. Make us, us.

Please.

For always.

All my love,

Your Preeya

*

Unsure about his grasp on reality, Ben took off his glasses then folded the letter with slow and precise care, blinking the emotion from his eyes. A lone tear rolled off his face and hit his hand.
This is real, Ben.

And if it’s not
…if just an illusion…if, when he turned around, she stood on a cloud of haze and pretend, he might disintegrate. Be done. If only a dream, he’d give up right here, right now.

Please. Please, let this be
real.

His eyes shut tight as he forced his feet to pivot, turning him around to face…

*

His Preeya, in his arms—tight. Probably too tight. “I do, I will…take you for my wife, Preeya Patel—and I won’t let you go. Not again. I promise that I won’t let you go ever again.”

When he pressed his lips to hers, the world went away, pulled out from under and around him,
them
. A floating balance had been struck. Symbiosis. Blissful, pulsing silence filled his chest. Their kiss rolled in and out like the nearby tide—and anchored him to earth at the same time. And no one else existed…

Until Beth’s and Peter’s titters tickled his ears as they fled the “sickening scene.”

With Preeya’s tender, sweet lips still pillowed against his, he laughed then sighed, inhaling her in.

“You ready?” he asked, bringing his hands from her face to her hands.

She winced then dug out a smile. “Hmm. Yes, babe, we are
both
ready.” She pulled her hands from his and held her side. “Me and our little soccer player here.”

He laughed as he knelt down while holding Preeya’s hips in his grasp. He put his ear to her belly and listened. Whirling perfection. “I hear you, little one. I hear you.” He kissed her belly then rose to his feet. “I missed you both. Too much.” He planted another deep kiss on Preeya’s mouth, unable to resist.

“
Mmm,
babe.” Preeya giggled while obviously reluctant to break their connection. “The wedding planner wants to start before we lose the light.” But her lips remained skipping and dancing over his, as if unable to pull away.

“Oh yes, right.” But Ben wouldn’t let their lips’ entanglement end, either. Her taste, her softness; he needed this, his
Preeya-replenishment
. He’d left her for too long. God, too damn long. And he swore he wouldn’t fucking run again.
Never
again.