by Frankie Love
“I’ll come out there tomorrow,” he offers. See, he’s good guy. I didn’t even have to ask.
“Thanks, man.”
“Hey,” he says. “You see last month’s deposit?”
“Yeah, what have you been doing?” I ask. “Working with the mob? That kind of money is what we were hoping to see in six years, not two.”
“I know, right?”
I can’t help but think I’m what held our business back. Me. Once I was gone, it started to thrive. I was the fucking problem.
“Don’t go there, Jax,” Dean says. “I know what you’re thinking.”
“Do you?”
“Yeah,” Dean snorts. “I’ve known you since we were kids, and you’ve always had a complex. Always thinking you were the problem when things went south. It’s just a coincidence that D & J Hauling found some success once you left.”
“Okay, Dean,” I say shortly. “Thanks for clearing that up.”
“Don’t be an ass. I’ll see you tomorrow. Late afternoon.”
I hang up, and head home. I have work to do.
HARPER
After my father slaps me, I retreat. I try to go back to before, before Jaxon, before Luke left. I try to go back to being the girl my parents require of me.
It mostly feels impossible.
So with each week that passes, I feel small in ways I never thought I could be.
I’m past the first trimester of this pregnancy—and it’s getting near impossible to hide it. I remember my mother staying quite small throughout the nine months, but I feel so large already.
I put on the loosest clothing I can find and hope it conceals things. Thankfully the morning sickness has faded, but the fear in my chest is still here, pressing in on me with each step I take. With each dish I wash, with each math problem I help my younger siblings solve, with each lie I tell myself.
Lies about why I’m here ... lies about why I left Jaxon ... lies about how I am going to do this by myself when I don’t even have my own checking account ... lies about how long I’m going to be able to hide this from my family. Eventually they’re going to find out I’m having a baby.
But I can’t face that now. Not yet.
I’m hollow in a way I’ve never been before. Like, I keep trying to hold myself together, but the more this secret weighs down on me, the more shame I feel. It’s a vicious cycle. I need someone to confide in.
So I make a call to the clinic—the clinic that offers free support. The clinic I never thought I would need to enter, but I do. It breaks my heart because I always thought the church would be the place I would turn to when times were hard.
But the place my father runs is not a safe haven, not now. Maybe it never was. I press my hand to the cheek he slapped, wondering when his hitting me became love? How does his slap across my face equal care?
And I don’t know how to be brave, be honest. Because the thing I need to tell my father—the thing I am still trying to hide—is going to change his shallow view of me into something nonexistent.
I’m not ready to lose my family, not when I have nothing to replace them with.
“I’m headed to Jana’s house now,” I tell my mother. We’re standing in the kitchen. Breakfast dishes are cleared away, and my siblings are set up on their schoolwork in the basement. I’ve planned my appointment this morning with precision.
A big baking day is planned at Jana’s house for most of the day. She’s a member of our congregation and about my age. We grew up together. Of course she’s married now, with a ten-month-old little girl.
When I told my parents I planned on attending, they were actually glad. I’ve avoided church activities as much as possible, but they keep encouraging me to make my way back into the fold. I figure I’ll go to the appointment, then head over to Jana’s, and no one will realize I’m an hour late.
“Alright, Harper,” Mom says, her voice as meek as ever. “Drive safe.”
Her long braid is over her shoulder, and I am hit with how young she is. She had me when she was eighteen years old; she married my father ten months before I was born. She’s not even forty, and it shows. Her face is as fresh and young as ever. I wonder if she regrets giving her life away before she even knew what it was to be a woman?
On impulse, I wrap my arms around her and give her a hug. We aren’t affectionate in general, and it’s been worse since the night at Jaxon’s, but part of me wants my relationship with her restored. I know I’ll need her help, once I have my child.
“I love you, Mom,” I say, kissing her cheek.
The clinic isn’t cold or sterile at all. There are couches in the waiting room, and the receptionist smiles brightly. I don’t know what I expected. Something harsh. Fluorescent lights, or a curt woman at the front desk.
I take the clipboard she hands me and sit with my legs crossed, trying to fill it out as vaguely as possible. I go so far as to lie about my last name. I write Harper Free in the blank space, instead of my actual last name, Baker.
Age: 21
Weight: I don’t even want to know .... Literally nothing can button over my waist.
Medical history: n/a
I don’t add that my siblings and I never had vaccinations, that we never had a pediatrician. That birth control is against our beliefs. I don’t mention the fact that I don’t take prescriptions or Tylenol because I’ve been taught to believe that God will cure my ailments, and if I’m sick it’s because I am in sin.
I don’t say any of that. Not here, not on this sheet of paper.
Instead, I wait in silence.
“Harper?” A nurse calls me back, and I follow her down the corridor. She takes my weight ... okay, not too insane. Still, I’ve gained sixteen pounds, which seems high. She takes my blood pressure, has me pee in a cup.
I do what she asks, then she gives me a gown and directs me to my room.
I change quickly, sit on the paper-lined examination bed. A few minutes later, there’s a light tap on the door, and a woman doctor steps in.
“Hello, Harper, I’m Doctor Vance.”
“Hi,” I say nervously.
“So, I understand you’re pregnant, but haven’t seen any care provider yet?”
“Not yet. I don’t really have a doctor, and I can’t tell my parents ... so I don’t know.”
She nods, then flips through the file she brought in with her.
“You are twenty-one though, correct?” she asks.
“I am. I just, I live at home and don’t really have a means to support myself ... exactly.”
“But you intend to carry this pregnancy to term?”
“I do.”
“Okay, Harper, here’s what we’ll do. After we perform an ultrasound, we can determine the due date, and then I am going to have you make an appointment with one of our counselors on site. They’re experienced helping women in situations like yours make a plan that is most sustainable for both you and the baby.”
“Okay.” I nod, blinking back tears. I don’t know what I was hoping for. Her to become my confidante or something? Which is unrealistic; I get that. I just can’t wait for another appointment to tell someone how stressed out I am. If my parents kick me out, where will I go? I have no support beyond my church family. And how much longer can I hide this pregnancy? I’ve already outgrown every piece of clothing I own.
Doctor Vance has me lie back, and a nurse comes in with an ultrasound machine.
She puts cool gel on my tummy and asks me to confirm the date of conception.
There is absolutely zero doubt in my mind when that occurred, so I answer with confidence.
Soon there is at the soft pitter-patter of a heartbeat.
But then Doctor Vance pauses. Tilts her head.
“Oh, Harper,” she says in shock, looking at the screen, transfixed by the image before us.
“Oh, my God,” I say, not at all taking the Lord’s name in vain.
This cannot be happening. Not to me.
Chapter 16
JAX
I spent all morning putting the finishing touches on my apology. Hopefully Dean will have some ideas of how I can go about finding the elusive Harper. Without knowing her last name, finding her might be difficult.
But I have to make things right with her. Especially since I’m confident she’s planning on carrying the baby to term. The look on her face when she left confirmed everything I needed to know. Harper wants this child.
But, shit, finding her isn’t gonna be easy. I don’t know about knocking on the door of every church asking each preacher if they have a daughter with perfect tits and a perfect ass, who’s carrying my baby.
Probably wouldn’t go over too well.
I’m getting out of the shower when I hear a car pull up in my driveway. Huh, I didn’t think Dean would be here for several hours. It’s barely noon. I wrap a towel around my waist and look through a window.
My jaw drops—and I know, that’s a pretty lame girl-move right there. I’m a grown ass man, I shouldn’t be surprised by much. But I swear, seeing that hatchback come to a stop at my front door surprises me like a motherfucker.
Harper has returned.
I immediately regret the fact that I didn’t come to her. Fuck. I should have found her.
But here she is, getting out of the car, coming to me first.
And I’d be a liar if I said my cock wasn’t growing at the sight of her. She’s curvier than ever. Under all those layers she’s wearing, I see the gorgeous rise of her chest, the fullness in her cheeks. I’m more than glad. Last time she was here, she looked like a hollowed-out shell. Now she looks more like the woman I met three months ago.
I’m standing here in my towel, but I don’t give a shit. I need to make things right with Harper. I need to apologize and I can’t wait for pants and a shirt, shoes and socks. I already feel like such a fucking dick.
“Harper,” I say, my voice solemn. “I’m so glad you came back.”
“Oh, Jaxon,” she says. Her slight smile erases my fear that she’ll reject my apology. “Jaxon, I’m so sorry.” She runs into my arms, and I pull her into an embrace.
“I didn’t think I’d be seeing you here,” I tell her, kissing the top of her head as I hold her tight. “And shit, honey, what the hell are you apologizing for?”
“I shouldn’t have left. I’m still upset about that day I ran out ... but the truth is, I can’t do this alone. And now I know that more than ever.”
“What do you mean?” I ask, pulling away slightly so I can look in her eyes. They are pools of crystal clear water. Water I need. “What happened?”
“It’s too much, Jaxon. I can’t even believe it.” She falls against my chest and begins to cry. I know pregnant women are extra emotional but, damn, every time I see Harper she’s a puddle.
“Hey, hey, don’t cry, baby.” Shushing her, I take her hand and lead her inside the cabin. “Sit down, catch your breath. And let me take care of you.”
I guide her to the leatherback rocker by the fireplace, and even though it’s a nice spring day, I throw some logs on. A fire always relaxes people. And Harper looks chilled to the bone with whatever has gone on.
I pull on my jeans in the bathroom and then, walking over to the kitchen, I put on the teakettle. Women like tea when they’re upset, right?
She’s sniffling in the chair, her shoulders heaving. The whistle on the kettle blows and I put a bag of chamomile in the mug. While it steeps, I pull out a bottle of whisky and pour myself a solid double. My dog Jameson is at my feet, and I pat his butt, telling him to go sit with Harper. He obeys and I watch her sigh as his heavy frame curls up at her feet.
“Listen,” I tell her, handing her the mug. I sit in the chair opposite her, my liquid courage in hand. “I have to tell you something.”
“No,” Harper interrupts, wiping tears from her cheeks. “Let me go first. Let me tell you why I came here today. Why I had to come.”
“Harper, I’ve just gotta talk for a second, alright? Besides, you’re still crying. I can’t handle you talking when you’re also sobbing. It’s too damn heartbreaking.”
That gets a small laugh from her, and she stifles a cry with her hand. “Okay, Jaxon, go ahead then.”
“Harper, there is hardly anything I know about you besides the fact your body is heavenly. Your words are pure. Your curiosity gets me fucking hard.”
I cough, trying to gather my thoughts. I thought I’d have more time to prepare the perfect speech, but fuck, when do things go as planned?
I keep going, “I mean, what else do I know? You have a fucked-up family.” When she winces at that, I try again, “You have a family that’s a lot different than me. And honestly, I think they are a lot different than you, too. But besides those things, I don’t know your favorite food or color or movie or song.
“And so when you came here, telling me you were having my kid and wanted to do this whole thing—raise it—together? Shit, girl, I didn’t say the right things to you, the things you needed to hear—because, Harper, I’ve never been with a woman like you. A woman who needs the things you need. But, honey, I will give you that. I will try.”
“Jaxon,” she says shaking her head. “You don’t need to come on a white stallion and save me. I’m not asking you to change everything and be my ... whatever. I just couldn’t believe the person I got pregnant with would ask me to not be a mother. Being a mother is the only thing I’ve ever wanted.”
“Okay, but Harper, I don’t know that. I didn’t know that. So I wasn’t trying to offend you by suggesting options. I was trying to be chivalrous. I was trying to let you know there was no right or wrong way to move forward.”
“I shouldn’t have left angry. It wasn’t right of me. How could I expect you to know that being a mom is my dream?”
“Harper, I don’t know shit. I don’t even know your last name.”
“Baker. Harper Baker.”
I nod. “I’m Jaxon Lane.”
“Nice to meet you, Mr. Lane,” Harper says, setting down her tea on the side table. Good, I think the tears have finally stopped.
“Harper, I really am sorry.”
“Thank you,” she says. “For the apology. For letting me in here.”
“Harper, shit, of course I’d let you in.”
“How would I know, Jaxon? It’s pretty clear you have a history with women. How was I to know there wouldn’t be one with you today?”
“How do you know my history?”
“You seem to know what you’re doing is all,” Harper says. “I mean, with me.” She lowers her eyes, blushing. “When I’m undressed.”
I smile, shaking my head. “Well, listen, I haven’t had a woman up here, not once. That’s not why I came to the woods.”
“Why did you come here?” she asks.
“Because I needed to breathe.”
That makes Harper start crying again, and fuck me now. “What did I do now?”
“I just. You came here to breathe and I’ve just made everything a million times more complicated.”
“Not a million times more complicated. Just one time more complicated,” I tell her, smiling, pointing to her stomach.
She doesn’t respond, she looks so undone.
I don’t ask her any more questions because, while I may not know much about Harper, I do know one thing she likes. One thing she likes a hell of a lot.
Standing, I walk toward her and pull her up.
Without speaking, I take off her jacket, her sweater. After pulling off her tank top, taking in her gorgeous breasts, just fucking full and larger than ever, I get on my knees and tug off her boots, her socks, her leggings. I slide my hands over her bare thighs, resting my fingers at the waistband of her panties. I tease her, just grazing my thumb over them.
Then, noticing her swollen abdomen, I swallow hard, realizing that she really is having my child. Harper is going to birth my offspring.
It’s not that I didn’t know this in theory—of course I did. And yeah, I never expected to
be a father so soon. But it still seemed so far away when I was here alone in this cabin, thinking about it.
But I’m not alone right now.
Right now, I’m holding Harper in my arms, and our child is between us, and fuck, that is some heavy shit. Some fucking amazing shit. Shit that makes me hard in a way I never imagined.
My cock grows as I press my face, ever so slightly, to her stomach. She takes a sharp intake of breath at this movement, and I know she is taken by this moment too.
Then, as the desire mounts, I press my mouth against her covered pussy, breathing in the scent of her. Inhaling her, I kiss her, running my hand between her thighs, spreading her legs. I just want to be a man that makes Harper happy.
As I pull down her panties, the ones that are wet with her heat, I know I can make her happy in this moment, at the very least.
HARPER
Oh, my heart. I try to hold back, to not give in, because I know there are things I need to tell Jaxon. Soon.
But as his tongue slips into my opening, I forget everything I need to say. I forget everything because … oh, that feels good. It feels so right.
His tongue darts into my folds. Each kiss, each hot breath of air on me, forces my legs to quiver a bit more, to spread a bit wider. When he lifts one of my legs and throws it over his shoulder, and my hands move to his shoulders for balance, I just about faint.
Because suddenly his head is pressed between my legs, licking my opening, and I feel my wetness seep out.
“Oh, Harper, you taste so fucking good,” he says, cupping my ass with his hands. He pulls me to the bearskin rug, and I lie on my back, legs spread apart as he instructed. “Relax, honey, let me eat you.”
So I do, my eyes close and I feel Jaxon completely devour me. As he uses a finger to press into my opening, I moan, arching my back, remembering the sensation of a climax and knowing I am getting closer to it. “Oh, Jaxon,” I pant, strumming my hands through his hair as he adds another finger to my opening. He rubs his thumb in circles, causing my entire body to writhe in pleasure.