by Devney Perry
“She was a nice person. She was beautiful and smiled all the time. She was so excited about the baby. I swear, Shannon was never anywhere without a pregnancy book in her hands.”
“You keep saying was. Shannon was.”
“She was.” I met her eyes. They were full of dread. She’d mentally skipped ahead of my explanation. “Shannon moved in with me because we thought it would be easier with the baby coming. I’d even asked her to marry me, but she turned me down.”
“Did you love her?” Piper asked.
“No.” I sighed. “It would have been easier if I had, but those feelings weren’t there. We tried to date for a while, but something was always missing. We both felt it. She just wasn’t the one. But we were having a baby and living together just made sense. At least at the beginning.”
In hindsight, we should have kept our distance. She should have stayed in her own apartment instead of moving into my house.
“She decorated the nursery. I made the baby a bassinet. We were still picking out names when she was about eight months pregnant, but neither of us was in a hurry to decide. We had time.”
I stared blankly across the room, unable to look at Piper for this next part. I’d never told this story before. And if I saw Piper cry or her face twist in sadness, I didn’t know if I could get through it all.
“Shannon was out to dinner one night. It was Memorial Day weekend and it was crazy in town. She’d already gone to the parade that morning and spent the afternoon hanging out with some friends. I asked her to just stay home and take it easy. But she wanted to go to this new restaurant downtown.”
She hadn’t invited me to go along. Shannon had stopped asking me out to dinner months before that night. When she’d first moved in, we’d gone out together all the time. I’d figured she’d stopped asking because those dinners had felt too much like dates.
It should have been my first clue that something was different. But I’d been too busy to notice. Plus, I’d been relieved. All I’d wanted to do for Memorial Day was stay home, cook myself a cheeseburger on the grill and drink a beer to relax.
“She never made it home. A drunk driver ran a stop sign going forty in a twenty-five and was T-boned by a truck.”
Piper gasped. “Oh, god.”
“The doctors had already lost Shannon by the time I arrived at the hospital. They delivered the baby, hoping to save her, but . . . I lost her too. They let me hold her for a few minutes after they cleaned her up. To say good-bye.”
“Kaine, I-I’m so sorry.”
“It broke me,” I whispered. “I was so excited about the baby. We all were. It wasn’t the ideal situation, but still, I wanted to be a father. A good father. And I just . . . I loved her. I’d never even met her, but I loved her.”
Piper kicked off her blanket and scooted closer to me on the couch. Then, without warning, she climbed into my lap and hugged me.
Her arms wound tight around my shoulders. Her hair hung loose and brushed against my cheek as she buried her nose in my neck.
It was the embrace I hadn’t even known I’d been craving, the one that would stitch together so many of those open wounds. So I wrapped my arms around her back and held her just as tight.
“You got scared,” she whispered.
“Terrified,” I whispered back. “When you told me you were pregnant, it brought back a lot of pain that I’d buried deep. I know I shouldn’t have left, but I just couldn’t deal with all of it. I needed some time to work it out.”
I’d needed some time to talk it through with someone who’d been just as devastated.
The days I’d spent with Mom had been healing. More times than I could count, I’d kicked myself in the ass for running away. Coming up to this mountain, to live alone, hadn’t helped me process my grief in the slightest. But after uncovering those wounds and letting them breathe, I was starting to feel some much-needed closure.
But I’d never regret finding my mountain. It was where I’d found Piper.
Or maybe she’d found me.
Piper leaned back and sniffled, then scooted off my lap. But instead of going back to her corner of the couch, she settled into my side and rested her head on my shoulder. I threw an arm around her back, keeping her close.
“I’m sorry, Kaine. I’m so, so sorry.”
I rested my cheek on her hair. “So am I.”
We sat quietly for a while, leaning on one another until Piper broke the silence with a question I was hoping to avoid tonight.
“Why didn’t you see your mom for three years?”
“It’s a long story. Let’s just say that after Shannon and the baby died, she made some choices I couldn’t live with. I was hurting and felt like she’d betrayed me, so I left. I cut off all ties and came up here to disappear.”
“What choices?”
I sighed. “Just . . . family stuff.”
Piper stiffened. The air in the room, which had been so warm with her curled into my side, dropped ten degrees. She pushed off the couch and left the room, walking down the hallway that led to a guest bedroom, her office and the garage.
Fuck. I’d promised her an explanation, but my vague answer had just shut her down. She didn’t know it was for the best. This was the part of my story I refused to talk about, even with my mother. There was too much rage there. Too much pain. I hadn’t let go of those emotions and until I could handle them myself, I wasn’t going to unload them on her.
I stayed on the couch, letting my head fall backward again, and gave Piper a few minutes. But as I listened to her slam cupboard doors and stomp around, I realized space was only making things worse.
Pushing off the couch, I went down the hall and found her in the guest bathroom, setting out some towels on the countertop. Her eyes met mine through the mirror as I leaned against the doorjamb.
“I’m sorry,” I told her. “There are still some things I’m working through myself. Can we save the rest for another day?”
She sighed and looked down at the sink. When she looked up, her eyes saw right to my core. She must have seen the pain there because she gave me some grace with a small nod.
“Thank you.”
Piper’s gaze dropped to the towels. Her hand slipped off the cotton and splayed over her belly. “With everything that happened to you. I can’t imagine. Do you . . .” She took a deep breath. “Do you want—”
“Yes.” I stepped into the room. “I want them.”
Them. Her. Us.
I wanted it all.
“Okay,” she breathed and her shoulders dropped.
Leaving Piper again would be nearly impossible. She’d ingrained herself into my life. And I’d missed enough of this pregnancy. Though it scared me, a spark of excitement was there too. I was getting the chance to be a father again.
I was getting the chance to try this again with Piper.
I’d cut her deep with that argument in the shop. I was a top-grade asshole for the things I’d said and then leaving for so long. I’d always be sorry for how I’d reacted. Now that she knew why I was scared, would she forgive me?
I sure as hell hoped so. Because then we could start over. Go back to the beginning and try our best not to fuck it up again.
“Where do we go from here?” I had my ideas but wanted to hear hers first.
She shrugged. “Let’s just take it slow.”
Slow. “I can do that.”
“If you need anything else in here, just let me know.” Piper patted the towels, then shooed me out of the bathroom.
I followed her out of the room and down the hallway, back into the living room. She went right for the couch, covering a yawn with the back of her hand, before snuggling right back underneath her blanket.
“Can I show you something?”
She nodded. “Sure.”
“Okay. Hang tight.” I went right for the door, hustling outside. Then I jogged over to the cabin, noticing the charred backside that had escaped me before.
There was one more thi
ng I wanted to do tonight. One more thing to bring me closure. And now that Piper knew about Shannon and the baby, I wanted to do it with her by my side.
Rushing inside the house, I went straight to the bedroom closet, retrieving the box I’d stashed there. I tucked it under one arm, then grabbed the duffel bag I’d dropped earlier on the couch. It was full of the clothes and toiletries I’d bought in Bozeman for my stay there. I took it all back to Piper’s, leaving the duffel by the door and settling next to her on the couch.
“Sorry.” She jerked when my weight hit the cushions, her eyes popping open.
I set the box on the coffee table. “We can do this later. Why don’t you go to bed?”
She shook her head, sitting up a bit. “No, it’s okay. What’s in the box?”
Leaning forward, I flipped off the lid. “When I left Bozeman, this box was the only thing I brought with me other than my truck.”
Piper sat up just as I lifted out the pink baby blanket. Then I pulled out one item at a time, handing them to her to see. Beneath the blanket was a grainy black and white ultrasound photo. Next to it was the list of baby names Shannon and I had been debating.
Ten on her side. Ten on mine. All but two had been crossed off.
Morgan and Beckett.
“Shannon didn’t want to know if we were having a boy or a girl. We’d been in the middle of narrowing down names.” She never got to know that we’d had a girl.
The last item in the box was a pair of tiny, pink work boots that were the same style as the ones I wore every day.
I grinned as I pulled them from the box. “My mom bought these. She told me that even if we had a boy, he’d have to wear them because she couldn’t find blue.”
“They are so cute.” Piper smiled. “I’m glad you kept them.”
“Me too.” I leaned into her side, and she leaned back. “I haven’t looked at all this in years. I just boxed it up and set it aside. Kind of like I have with a lot of things. But . . . I’m trying.”
“I know you are,” she said softly.
“Thanks for letting me show you.”
She rested her hand on my knee. “Anytime.”
We stared at the items for a few moments, then Piper and I both carefully repacked the box. When the lid was closed, a weight had been lifted.
Piper lay out on the couch again, righting her blanket. I bent down and untied my boots, then kicked them off and relaxed into the seat, stretching my legs under the coffee table.
My eyes landed on the book of baby names. “I told my mom about you and the baby. I’ll have to call her tomorrow and tell her we’re having twins.”
“My parents are excited too. My mom keeps sending me baby gifts.” Piper shifted, trying to get comfortable. But she was doing her best to keep her feet off my side of the couch.
I took both of her ankles in my hands and pulled them across my lap. When her bare feet were resting on my thighs, I took one and began massaging the arch.
“My god,” she moaned, the sound going straight to my dick.
“Have you picked out any names?” I asked, hoping it would distract me enough I wouldn’t get hard.
She hummed. “I was thinking about Robert and Gabe if they’re boys, after both of my granddads.”
“I like those.” I relaxed deeper into the seat. “I’ve always liked traditional names.”
“I’m stuck on girl names though. Any ideas?”
I’d thought of a million baby girl names over the last three years. “Hope and Faith.”
“Hope and Faith,” she whispered. “I love those.”
“We didn’t—me and Shannon—we didn’t pick out girl names. We thought we had time.”
“Robert and Gabe for boys. Hope and Faith for girls.”
Her statement was quiet but firm. I needed those names picked out. I needed to know if something bad happened, my kids would have names. And Piper knew I needed it too.
“Will you do something for me?”
She nodded, her eyes falling shut as I continued to rub her feet.
“Would you go out to dinner with me?”
“Are you asking me on a date?”
“Yes, I am.”
She smiled. “We’re doing everything backward.”
I was taking that as a yes.
The night got still and darkness settled. Piper fell asleep on the couch, and I carried her down the hall and into her bed.
Just like the rest of the house, her room was stylish and warm. As I settled her under her maroon comforter, I swiped the hair from her eyes and bent to kiss her forehead.
She hummed, snuggling deeper into her pillow.
Fuck, but I wanted to curl up next to her. I wanted to fall asleep with her in my arms. Not once in all of our nights together had we slept in the same bed.
I’d always left. I’d always maintained that line in the sand.
There were no lines anymore. I would cross them all.
Piper Campbell had broken past all of my walls and made me fall in love with her. She’d worked her way into my broken heart, filling the black holes with light.
“Kaine?” Piper’s soft voice stopped me right before I shut her door. Her head was still resting on the pillow, but her dark eyes were open.
“Yeah?”
“Yes, I’ll go on a date with you.”
I grinned. “I wasn’t going to take no for an answer. Night.”
“Good night.”
As I padded down the hall, I shut off the lights and locked the front door. Then I went to my room, stripped off my clothes and climbed into bed, staring up at the ceiling as I replayed our conversation.
We’re doing everything backward.
Piper had been right about that.
Maybe backward was the only way we’d end up forward.
“Do you want to grab pizza at the bar for dinner?” Kaine asked. “Or hit the diner for a burger?”
I took in his profile from the passenger seat. He was driving my Tahoe, relaxed and sexy behind the wheel. His hair had grown out in the last two months since he’d come back, but he’d kept his beard trimmed short and it made his lips look soft and full.
The sweater he’d pulled on this morning was bunched up, revealing his forearms. His wrist hung carelessly over the steering wheel while his large fingers dangled above the dash. The sight of him in that seat, driving me around, was one I’d never get sick of.
He looked over and raised an eyebrow. Busted. I drooled over him a lot these days and most times he caught me.
I smiled but didn’t look away. “Let’s just go home.”
Over the last two months, Kaine and I had been playing house. From the outside, we looked like a happy couple blissfully awaiting the arrival of our twins. The inside wasn’t far off from that image either.
Kaine had even lifted his ban on socializing. He took me to the bar to hang with Thea and Logan on the weekends when they were working. When I didn’t feel like cooking, we went to the only other restaurant in town, Bob’s Diner. And on occasion, Kaine and I would drive to Kalispell for dinner at a nice restaurant.
Just like he’d done for our first date.
He’d flirted with me over candlelight and pasta at this quaint Italian restaurant. Then he’d taken me to a movie. It was simple and sweet, a cliché even. Dinner and a movie. Kaine hadn’t planned anything extravagant or over-the-top. He’d just planned an evening where I was the center of his attention.
It was the best date I’d had in my life, and I’d had a near-constant smile on my face ever since. There hadn’t been another time in my life when I’d felt so cherished.
Kaine cherished me.
I forced my eyes away from his handsome profile and looked outside to the trees covered with ice crystals. My first winter in Montana hit earlier than normal for the region. It was only the middle of October and every day this past week had been below freezing. We hadn’t gotten a huge snowfall yet, but the thought of it made me shiver.
Kaine saw my should
ers shimmy and turned up the heat on my side of the car.
Cherished. I wasn’t all that cold, but I left the dial alone.
“What do you want for dinner?” I asked.
He shrugged. “Whatever. We can just scrounge around for leftovers.”
I rubbed my belly. I didn’t look pregnant yet, just more like I’d eaten too many large meals for the last month. Which, of course, I had. Now that I was past the first trimester, my appetite had come back with a vengeance. I’d gained all the weight I’d lost from my months of puking and surviving on saltine crackers.
“I’m hungry.”
Kaine chuckled and reached into one of the bags he’d put on the floor behind his seat. His hand came back holding a granola bar. Then he dug around and found a bottle of chocolate milk.
“Where did you get these?”
“I went to the little coffee shop in the mall.”
“You went to the coffee shop? When?”
“While you were trying on your hundredth pair of maternity jeans.”
“Ahh.” I nodded and tore into the wrapper of the bar. “Good thinking.”
“Gotta make sure you’re fed every hour, on the hour. Like a bear.”
I just smiled and tore open the wrapper. A minute later, the bar was gone and I was still hungry. We’d gone to the doctor for an exam and ultrasound today, then gone to the mall to shop for nursery things. I’d spent an hour in the dressing room of the one and only maternity store, getting acquainted with more spandex than I’d owned in my life. With all the activity, I was famished.
“How much do you want to bet that my mom overnights us a package of blue onesies?”
Kaine reached across the console and took my hand, threading his fingers in mine. “She already did.”
“What? When? We just found out we were having boys three hours ago.”
I’d called my parents right after we’d left the doctor’s office. And though my mother was surely best friends with the clerks at the shipping store by now, I was certain even she couldn’t get something to Montana from New York in under three hours.
Kaine’s thumb stroked the back of mine. “She sent me a box the size of Texas last week full of boy and girl clothes, along with a note to hide it from you until today. Then I could give you the right ones and send the rest back.”