Page 73 of The Impact (Parachutes #3)

Chapter Eighteen

“Shoot me out some words when you think of your mother, Tahli?” Larry’s soothing tenor conflictingly tensed Tahli.

“Um… beautiful. Intelligent. Talented. Strong... Brave.”

“All positive things. Did your mother have any insecurities?”

“I don’t know. If she did, she didn’t show them. She loved herself.”

“Did she love herself more than she loved you?”

That shortened Tahli’s breath before she replied. “She loved herself more than she loved everyone.”

“Tahli, do you know what occurs in children, specifically daughters, of maternal abandonment?”

“I wasn’t abandoned. I knew my mother.”

“You knew her, but she didn’tchooseyou.

She may have carved out a section of her life for you.

Fuck that. She gave you scraps of her time when she wasn’t performing, or traveling the world, or in a whirlwind romance with the next prospect.

You told me you took Psych courses, now.

Basically, came into my house and told me ain’t shit that I can tell you. ”

Tahli snorted. “That’s not what I said.”

“I know what you meant. I know why, too. Because one of the best ways to spot a woman who was once a girl of a mother who abandoned her, is to watch a woman glued to her ideas of perfectionism. The fear of attachments. The trust issues. The desire for external validation. The absolute need to control your life now because you had no control over such a huge part of it for so long. The unrealistic ideals and goals set for yourself and those around you, wrapped up in boss bitch, take-no-shit mentality.”

“Why can’t I be a boss bitch that takes no shit?”

“You absolutely can. But can you balance that with human grace and empathy? Do you feel like you allow room for failure?”

“Who wants to allow room for failure?”

“Someone who desires longevity. Who can sustain without failing, Tahli? Look…I’ll use Beyonce as an example because she’s as close to perfection as we can get, right?

But Beyonce can do one show, and she can nail that shit.

Hit every mark, master every key, take every cue.

But once she goes on a world tour and does 50 shows, one, two, ten of them are bound to have a falter.

You can’t keep dancing on the stage and never miss a beat, Tahli.

Do you think you had the perfect marriage? ”

“Evidently not.”

“Before the reveal. Did you think your marriage was perfect?”

“Yes.”

“That’s a lot of pressure on both of you. Did Dalvin shatter that illusion of perfection?”

“Abso-fucking-lutely.”

“What do you do with people when they’re no longer perfect, Tahli? Do you do what your mother did to you? Do you feel you weren’t perfect, so that’s why your mother didn’t make more space for you in her life?”

Tahli’s lips vibrated. Brows shot up to her hairline.

“Have you carried on these caprices into your adulthood of being a perfect Tahli with the perfect career and perfect children and perfect spouse? Now, I’m not telling you what to do because Dalvin fucked up.

Big time. But if you’re here, I’m going to take it that divorce isn’t working out the way you want it to.

So, for that I must ask… are we allowing room for true unconditional love to touch us or just when within reason?

Within our own comfort levels? Which is cool.

Boundaries are cool. But what are we willing to sacrifice for that comfort? ”

Larry made her mind swim; force-feeding her more to chew on when she was already stuffed.

“I think you and Dalvin need to spend some non-sexual time around each other. I want you to go on vacation as a family. Doesn’t have to be far away or for too long. Talk. Bring the children. Reconnect as friends. Change the scenery. Let’s observe the dynamic… Without intimacy.”

Tahli

They had tackled Turks & Caicos for Dali’s sixth birthday when Milo was close to four.

One of the few all-inclusive family-friendly resorts, yet still quixotic.

So, Tahli was clicking her heels that they were on the Bombardier Global jet on a direct flight from New York, heading back there.

Even with the travel time under four hours, the plane housed a queen-sized bed, three televisions, and a meeting space.

Anticipation tangled with the calm of familiarity. Her children, Vin…and even DJ. Harmonious love. Felt a little too easy.

“Your daddy spent way too much money on this,” Tahli leaned over to joke to DJ. Milo sat across from them beside Vin, while Terran and Dali were stretched out in the bed reciting Mean Girls to the film.

DJ’s lips jerked in a tight smile. He was still pissed.

“You want a soda? They got any kind you want.” He shook his head at Tahli’s warming attempts.

“Boy, I know you not still mad about losing that race? Ain’t no sore losers in the Hayes bloodline.” Vin tapped DJ’s knee, making his lanky leg swing. “You gotta chalk that up. Take it on the chin.”

“Leave him alone,” Tahli warned, pulling DJ into her.

Yes, there had been a race. DJ and Milo got along but they were competitive boys turning thirteen and fourteen in some months.

Milo had surprisingly won the race, even with DJ’s athletic edge.

Tahli assumed they were vying for Vin’s approval, even though he’d cheered them both on. DJ had been mute since the loss.

“Oh, you just gonna lay on her? You too old for that.”

“I said leave him alone,” she warned Vin again. “And no, he ain’t.”

To that, DJ leaned in more, wrapping his arm around her waist, glare on Vin.

“Oh, so you just gonna lay up in my spot? Cutting ya eyes at me like it’s smoke.”

Peeking down, Tahli suppressed giggles to the look DJ lasered up at Vin, while nestled on Vin’s favorite resting place: her double D’s.

Milo didn’t like to nuzzle up with her anymore, but Milo always had personal space restraints.

Milo also hadn’t lost his mother. Tahli didn’t mind one bit the hugs DJ liked to sneak in.

She rushed to deboard when they landed. No matter how cush Vin made the experience, flying wasn’t a favorite of hers.

“Rematch!” DJ called the minute they touched ground, and him and Milo took off down the runway toward the waiting car service.

“Be careful!” Tahli called after them as Dali started singing,

“I always wanted a brother,” mocking the Mufasa movie.

“What did you say ‘bout my brother?” Terran joined in, and Tahli had to giggle. “Daddy, can I get a sister one too this Christmas?”

Did the ground rumble? Did Turks have earthquakes? No. Just her youngest child finding normalcy in an extra child being dropped into their lives. Vin chewed his lip to the daggers Tahli fired his way.

“Terran, baby, you killing me,” he muttered.

“You can actually open the door again. I’m getting back on the plane,” Tahli half-joked, to which Vin gently lugged her toward the car by the arm.

“Aye, we both agreed. Family trip. Neutral turf. I’m sorry,” he mouthed.

Tahli stared before nodding. “Family trip. As friends,” she stressed before he forgot it. Vin’s head bobbed in agreement.

“As friends.”

Vin used her body to shove the door open, not breaking the passionate swirls of their tongues.

He sucked her lips with strong hands digging into her thighs as he hoisted her against him.

Tahli cinched her legs around his waist, as he kicked the door shut.

Hauling her to the nearest dresser, he tore away the cup of her bikini top and swallowed her right tit.

The balmy moisture of his mouth engulfed her sensitive nipple and made her whimper.

“Vin. We…we shouldn’t,” Tahli panted, curling her toes.

“We should.” He shed his shirt. “We really fucking should.”

“But Larry said-”

“Larry don’t know what the fuck he’s talking about.” Vin dropped to taste test her thighs, rolling her eyes into her skull. His rough hands grazed her supple skin.

“He’s done wonders for you, Vin,” Tahli moaned, as Vin’s fingers stirred her center through her bathing suit, sticky with her arousal.

“I’m ‘bout to do wonders on this pussy.” Vin snatched those bikini bottoms to the side. Used his tongue to dive past her lips, bathing her clit with his spit first slow, then hungrily. Vin swiped his tongue over Tahli’s waxed pussy, and her belly clenched.

With another slow lick from her sopping cave up to her belly button, trekking all the way between her breasts and past her neck, he landed on her chin to suck it. Then he devoured her mouth, lending her the taste of her flesh.

“Can’t be stingy wit’ your heart and this pussy, baby love. That shit is just cold.” Vin breathed sex-freshened air into her mouth, and Tahli scraped the wings of his back in desire. She pressed her nose into his neck, inhaling chlorine and sin.

“Okay, Daddy. I give up.” With a kiss on his Adam’s apple, right over his Milo Senior tattoo. “Nobody can ever make me feel like you do.”

“Talk that shit I like to hear, baby love,” Vin instructed in his gravelly voice, before he plunged into her warm pool.

One Hour Earlier…

Tahli found Vin at the bar.

For six days and five nights on the horizon, they’d had kicked off day one with action.

The kids tired themselves out with wakeboarding and waterskiing.

Followed by a glass-bottom boat ride and a sunset dinner on the beach.

Now, they were all asleep, except for a freshly 16-year-old Dali, who was up in the three-bedroom suite on Facetime with her friends, a collagen mask on her face, and a buffet of desserts surrounding her.

“Hey.” Tahli brushed fingers across Vin’s back as he nursed a glass of brown liquor.

“What’s up?” He curved his head, smiling with his eyes. If Tahli had to guess, it was cognac before him, the scent drifting into the humid air and blending with the chlorinated water from the infinity pool and waterfall.