She stared out the passenger side window. “What’s perfect?”
He started the engine and drove down Main Street. “Your ass.”
She shifted her body until she faced him. “Do you have a pregnancy fetish, Mr. Cross? You seem to have a lot of nice words for me.”
He stayed silent for a moment. He pulled in front of a big beautiful building with the name The Guild Creative Center etched over the door.
“No, I don’t have a pregnancy fetish, although I find pregnant women no less attractive than non-pregnant women. As for my kind words … I have a feeling you don’t get a lot of kind words in your life.”
“Oh. I …”
He slipped out of the truck before she could finish.
Her door opened and he helped her down. The parking lot was uneven, and her shoe caught on a rock, lurching her forward.
Thomas wrapped her in his arms. “Careful now. We don’t want you giving birth to a pancake.”
When she gained her balance, he didn’t let go. He dropped his arms from around her waist. His hand found its way to hers. He’d missed this connection with a person. The simple act of holding hands said more. It implied the two people were connected in a way deeper than the touch. In some ways, that was true with Eden and him. They’d been thrust together by circumstances out of their control.
“This belongs to Samantha and Dalton Black. I thought you might want to see it since it showcases some pretty interesting and varied artistic endeavors.”
They walked hand in hand through the front door. He never got tired of walking inside. Loved the smell of creation. On any given day, the air could tell him who was there and who was missing.
He lifted his head and breathed deeply. “What do you smell?”
She followed his lead and breathed in the scents surrounding her.
“I smell something sweet like brownies.”
“That would be Dalton and his culinary school. What else?”
She closed her eyes and took in a few more deep breaths.
As she did, he stared at her. He hadn’t realized how little she was compared to him. How trusting she had to be to move into his house. He squeezed her hand firmer, hoping to convey that she wasn’t alone. He would be there for her.
“Linseed oil.” Her eyes fluttered open.
“Yes, that would be Sosie Grant. She normally only comes up from Denver on the weekends.”
“Sosie Grant paints here?” Her jaw dropped.
“You know her?”
“No, not personally, but I’ve followed her career because she was this painting savant. She painted a portrait of Christ when she was four that now hangs in the Vatican. She can’t be more than thirty now.”
“I’ve only met her once.”
“She’s pretty.” Eden walked forward into the gallery where Poppy Bancroft’s photos still hung for the world to see.
“I suppose she’s pretty if you like tall and skinny. I prefer more curvy women.” Without thought, he stepped in front of her and set his hand on her stomach.
They both looked down and then back at each other. “The baby is quiet right now. He always peps up before a meal and sleeps right after.”
“He?” Her belly was as tight as a drum. He found his hand moving over it without thought or reason. Only that he liked the feel of it.
“I don’t know for sure, but I like that rather than it.”
He dropped his hand from her stomach but kept his other fully entwined with hers. “Sorry, I should have asked if I could touch your baby.”
This time she turned in front of him and pulled his hand to the rise in her stomach. “You can touch me anytime.”
He knew it wasn’t an invitation to maul her but something inside him wanted more. His hand moved from her belly to her back and up to cradle her head. In the midst of the display called One Hundred Lifetimes of Love, he lowered his lips to hers. The touch was soft at first.
She gasped and he waited for her to pull away. Push at his chest. Turn around and march out the door, but she didn’t. She opened her lips and let him in.
With his fingers laced with hers in one hand and his other twined in her hair, Thomas kissed her like his entire existence depended on this one kiss.
Soft lips and the taste of black licorice welcomed him. His tongue floated across hers. There was nothing urgent about the moment. This was about seeking and finding comfort in one another.
Her hand fell from his, and he was certain she’d break the rest of their connection, but she didn’t. Instead, she raised it to his heart and flattened her palm against his chest. Could she feel it beat at a pace far too quickly and much too hard to be healthy? It damn near thumped out of his chest.
What the hell was he doing? Borrowing trouble for sure. She was pregnant and he knew nothing about her. All he knew was how good she felt in his arms. How wonderful her lips moved against his. How could something that feels so right be so damn wrong?
He stepped away. “I’m sorry.”
Her hand flew to her lips. “Me too.” She laughed. “Grilled cheese always does that to me.”
He loved that she didn’t make it awkward. Hated that she stepped away from him to look at the photos.
“These were taken by Poppy Bancroft, the deputy sheriff’s wife.” He moved through the larger than life canvases and introduced her to the people of the town.
“What a tribute to her mother.” Eden swiped a tear from her eye.
“Are you close to yours?” It wasn’t his intention to interrogate her, but the situation opened itself up into finding out more about her.
“Um … I love my mother, but she moved away nearly a decade ago. We chat on the phone, but I haven’t seen her. She met my stepfather after my father died. It’s been complicated, but as long as everyone is happy.”
“Are you happy?” They said history repeats itself. Poor Eden had her mother move away and since there didn’t seem to be anyone knocking down her door over the baby, he could only surmise that the father of her child had abandoned her too.
“I wasn’t sure until today, but I am happy. While things are still unsettled in my life, I see the light at the end of the tunnel.”
If he thought his heart pounded in his chest at the kiss, it was ready to burst at her confession. Had that one kiss said something to her that he hadn’t been meaning to convey?
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” She turned the corner and stared up at a life-sized picture of Samantha Black, who used to be Samantha White, aka Indigo. “Is that Indigo?”
“Slow down a second. Let’s go back to are you happy? I shouldn’t have kissed you, Eden. I don’t want to give you any impression that I’m—”
“You didn’t. It was a kiss and it was nice. Thank you for making me realize that my life isn’t over because I have a child.”
“Why would it be? Lots of women have children on their own.”
She lifted her head, and in her eyes, he saw peace. “Yes, but I only decided to keep mine today.” She moved away from the picture of Indigo and walked on to a picture of Doc Parker. “Was that really Indigo?”
She was a master of redirection but to ask her to explain would mean he cared more deeply about her than he was willing to admit. “Yes, she’s really Samantha Black and this is her building.” He pointed past the pictures to a corridor. “Her recording studio is down the hall right next to where Dalton has to be cooking brownies or fudge.”
“Wow, that’s amazing. I also smell wood or sap.”
“The wood would be Cannon, who is Sage’s husband.” He walked her around the pictures until he found one of Aspen Cove’s only bar owner. “The sap could be him or Abby Garrett, who raises bees and makes honey-based soaps and lotions.” He moved through the gallery until he found one of Abby in full bee gear in front of a hive.
They left the gallery and walked to the end of one corridor, where a peek through the window showed Riley hard at work on a sculpture.
“Is that a metal pi
ano?”
“Good eye. She’s Luke’s boss. I mean his girlfriend, but it’s the same thing.”
“I thought she was a waitress.”
“She is. Maisey is her aunt.”
They backtracked to the gallery and let their noses lead them to Dalton, who was boxing up what looked like fudge.
“Hey man, have you met Eden?”
Dalton dried his hands on his apron and stepped forward to shake her hand. “Heard about you. Welcome to Black’s.”
“Nice to meet you,” she said in a small voice. “Smells great in here.”
Thomas walked around the culinary school. It wasn’t a huge place. There was enough room for four stainless steel work tables, a wall of refrigeration, another full of ovens, and a third that had a prep counter and sinks. Out of the back came Basil Dawson.
“What did you learn to cook today?” asked Thomas.
“Today was death by chocolate day.” Basil rushed to get a box and hand it to Eden. “Welcome to Aspen Cove. I’m not a professional, but they won’t kill you.” He opened the box to show chocolate cookies, fudge, brownies, and a few mini cupcakes.
She reached inside and pulled out a cookie. “Thank you.”
He shook his head. “Take the box.” He glanced at three others on the shined-to-a-mirror finish table. “I was going to take some to the fire department and police department anyway.”
She tucked her cookie back in the box and took it from his hands. “Thomas can take them for you. Everything but my cookie.”
“Did you need something or were you giving Eden a tour?” Dalton asked.
“Thought we’d stop by. She hasn’t seen much of our town, and since she’s staying a while, I figured I’d get her acquainted with what we have to offer.”
Dalton lifted a brow that seemed to have a question attached. “Nice of you.”
“It’s the right thing to do. I’m being neighborly.” Thomas hoped that Dalton understood. Then again, he didn’t know what his pull to Eden was. Could it be he truly liked her, or was this some sick way his mind was working out his hurts from his past? “Are you ready?” He placed his hand at the small of her back and led her to the truck.
Her phone rang as soon as they exited. She took one glance and frowned.
“Are you going to answer that?”
She shook her head. “Nope.”
“Could be someone important.”
“They used to be, but now they’re not.”
Something told Thomas that wasn’t anywhere near the truth.
Chapter Seventeen
Eden
Was it Friday already? She straightened her desk and readied herself to leave.
The days passed by so quickly that Eden could barely keep track. It helped that she had a job, her morning check-ins at the clinic, and a man who looked after her. Thomas had been on shift for the last few days, and she hadn’t seen him except when he walked her home from work each day.
She found him chivalrous and charming, then again, everything about him was appealing. Her lips could still feel the kiss from several days ago. She could taste him—the sweetness of his mouth as his tongue danced with hers. Feel the strength of his arms around her. Hear his words as he told her she was beautiful. The words were said with such conviction she believed him.
Each day she arrived home, they found something for the baby outside. Today it was a cradle. Hand carved and restored to a pristine finish.
Thomas looked around. “I’ve never seen this before.”
“Who would leave me a cradle?”
He picked it up and carried it into the house like the boxes that showed up each day.
Eden had pushed eight months of giddy joy into several days as she washed and folded hand-me-downs dropped off by anonymous donors.
“Someone who knows the baby will need a place to sleep. It’s not like you can put him in a dresser drawer.”
She loved the way he’d adopted her habit of calling the baby a he. Each time he stopped by the veterinarian clinic to see her, he’d put his hands on her stomach and ask how he was doing. “He wouldn’t know, and he wouldn’t complain.”
He narrowed his eyes at her. “When he comes out, he’s going to protest. Who wouldn’t want to live inside your body?”
The way his cheeks heated with a red flush made her giggle.
“You think he wants to live inside me forever?”
He took her coat and hung it up in the closet. “Any smart man would.” Knowing he couldn’t take back the words, he simply shook his head. “How was your blood pressure today?”
“Better.” She pulled her shirt up to show him the belly brace Doc had ordered her. “Look. It’s like a bra.”
He ran his hands over the elastic band. “Oh good, Sar— I mean I knew someone who had one of those and she found it helpful.”
“Who was she?”
He walked into the kitchen and poured her a glass of milk and made her a peanut butter and jelly sandwich like he did each afternoon. It was her new favorite. That and the box of candy-coated black licorice he’d leave for her each morning.
“No one.”
Eden knew Thomas carried a huge wound in his heart. He’d slipped several times about a woman named Sarah, but he never offered more than a cursory look into his past. Then again, she’d become a blank canvas too where her life was concerned.
Her phone rang. When she saw her sister’s number, she silenced the call. There was nothing Suzanne had to say that she wanted to hear.
“You know, you could block that number.”
She licked the jelly from the edge of the bread. “I could, but what if it was an emergency?”
“You wouldn’t know because you don’t answer the calls.” He finished putting everything away and moved toward her. “If it’s the baby’s father, he has a right to know about his child. Not that it’s any of my business, but honesty will always serve you better.”
She dropped the uneaten crust of her sandwich to the plate. “This baby has no father.”
Thomas chuckled. “Darlin’, even I know you can’t get that way without a sperm, and the last time I looked, women weren’t producing them.”
She swallowed the lump in her throat. “You’re right, but this baby’s father is clueless to his existence.”
He scowled at her. When she rose from the chair to put her plate in the sink, he jumped back as if she was a flame and he was tinder.
“What is it with women and honesty? Geezus, Eden, the man has a right to know he’s having a baby. You have no right to keep that information from him. I thought you were different, but you’re just like Sarah.”
“You’re wrong. You don’t know me. You don’t know my situation.”
He shook his head. “You’re right. I don’t know you. You’re just a pregnant woman killing time until she has her baby. How selfish are you to keep him away from his father? Does anyone lay claim to this kid? If my memory serves me correctly, you weren’t all that sure of keeping him yourself.”
She pointed toward the door. “Get out. You stand here and judge me. You act like you know what I’m going through, but you don’t. I’m sorry if someone in your life hurt you. It wasn’t me. I’m not Sarah. Trust me when I say the sperm that made this baby is clueless. He is because that’s the way he wanted it. You act as if I have some devious secret. I don’t.”
“Not true, Eden. Your phone rings all the time and you silence it. Who’s on the other end hoping you’ll pick up?”
She fisted her palms. “No one.”
“I’m calling bullshit. Each time that damn phone rings, your face pales.” He moved toward the front door. “Let me know when you decide to be honest.” He swung the door open so hard it dented the drywall behind it. “I’m going to work.”
“I’m going to bed.”
The door closed behind him, leaving her staring at the dent in the wall. Porkchop moved in and out between her legs. Her meows were like plaintive wails.
It had been
days since Eden had cried but the tears were already spilling down her cheeks. “Damn men.”
She bent over and picked up her cat and nuzzled her chin into her fur. “You’re so lucky you don’t have a man in your life.”
Eden moved at a snail’s pace to Thomas’s room and crawled under his sheets to cry. When the blubbering stopped, she picked up her phone and texted him.
I’m sorry. I have a story to tell if you want to listen to it.
The only one in town who knew about her life was Doc Parker, and to her knowledge he hadn’t said a word.
She waited for him to reply but he didn’t. Several hours later she woke to the screeching of her cat. Like the mother of a child, Eden flew out of bed and raced to her fur baby. Porkchop was in front of the sliding glass door that led to the back yard. Her fur stood up on end as she clawed at the cat on the other side. A cat dressed in a tuxedo.
She had no one to call. No one who would believe that on the back porch stood a cat in a bowtie and tails. She snapped a picture and stared at it for a long time.
She sent it to Thomas.
Any idea who this is?
He replied a moment later.
That’s Tom Brown.
He gave her the name as if the cat was a celebrity in town, and maybe he was. He certainly dressed like one.
She microwaved some macaroni and cheese and climbed back in bed. The house was empty and cold. Not temperature wise but the warmth that came with being friends with Thomas. Had she ruined what they had by keeping her secrets? She wasn’t ashamed of the baby. Wasn’t ashamed of how he came about. Wasn’t ashamed of anything but the fact that she’d believed in her family and trusted they would do right by her, and they didn’t. Maybe the most embarrassing fact was a town of strangers treated her better than her sister ever could.
She looked at the dozen or so missed calls from her sister. It was probably time they touched base. She pressed call and waited.
“It’s about time.”
“Suzanne, I don’t want to talk to you. Just tell me why you keep calling.”
There was a moment of silence. Eden was certain no one had ever dismissed her sister. She’d always been the pretty one. The successful one. The wealthy one. There was never a lack of praise for her big sister. It was probably why she’d always been so dead set on gaining her favor. If everyone loved Suzanne and she loved Eden, then quite possibly, Eden was worthy too.
One Hundred Goodbyes (An Aspen Cove Romance Book 9) Page 11