by Avery, Joy
“You know your opinion has always been important to me.”
“I know, but I don’t want my opinion to ever influence your decisions. I’ve always wanted my boys to do what makes them happy, not what makes me happy. My one hope was that you’d find love. True love. And I think you have.”
At that moment, he felt like a complete asshole. He was starting to believe Tucker had been right. This deception had been a bad idea. Especially since his mother seemed to adore Eunice. The truth would surely break her heart.
His mother patted his chest. “Thank you for the dance, son. I have to find your father. He owes me a dance.” She kissed him, then wiped the pink lip color from his cheek. “I love you.”
“I love you, too, Mom.” His mother strolled away. “Mom?” She turned to face him. “I need to tell you something.”
She rejoined him. “What is it?”
His lips parted. How did he tell her everything she thought she’d witnessed between him and Eunice had been orchestrated? How did he break her heart during her anniversary party? He couldn’t. “I haven’t told you how gorgeous you look tonight.”
She patted the side of his face. “You’re so kind. Thank you.”
“Go find dad. I’m sure he’s waiting to dance with his beautiful bride.” His mother moved away again. There was no way he could ruin her night. Tomorrow. He’d tell her everything tomorrow.
“May I have this dance?”
When he turned, Eunice’s smiling face greeted him. Oh, this was going to be tough. “Of course.” She took her place in his arms, and they tightened around her as if he was afraid she’d change her mind and sprint away.
Just as he expected, his body reacted to their closeness. The heated sensation in his chest gave way to the throbbing in his boxers. He willed an erection away and struck up a conversation to derail the thoughts of how wonderful she felt in his arms. “Did Bobby talk your ear off?”
Eunice pulled at her lobe. “Not completely. He really thinks highly of himself, huh?”
“That’s Bobby.” He twirled her, but pulled her back close. “Are you enjoying yourself?”
“I’m having a ball. I never knew what I was missing by not having a large family until now. It’s going to be kind of hard to say goodbye.”
The music ceased, but his need to cling to Eunice remained. “I want to show you something.” He took her by the hand and led her through the crowd and to the back of the barn. They climbed the set of stairs leading to the loft.
“Oh, my God, Blake. Who painted these?”
“My mother.”
“I didn’t know she was an artist.” Eunice examined the multiple oil paintings hanging in the space. “These are amazing. She has her great-great-grandfather’s talent for sure.”
Blake folded his arms across his chest and took joy in Eunice’s delight. The satiny burnt orange dress she wore rode her curves as she ventured from frame to frame. The tightening in his stomach when she bent to examine a print closer was enough to bring him to his knees. When he imagined her legs wrapped around his waist, he shifted his focus before he actually crumbled to his knees.
“Blake?”
When his eyes slid back to her, she eyed him awkwardly. “Hmm?”
“I asked how long has your mother been painting?”
“Ah…as long as I can remember.”
“This one is my absolute favorite,” Eunice said, in regards to the painting of a vibrant waterfall.
“Follow me,” Blake said. When they arrived at a pile of straw, he turned and freefell backwards into the mound. “Try it.”
“With my luck, I’ll miss the pile and careen off the side.”
“Chicken.” Blake tossed a handful of straw at her.
She eased down next to him, mimicking his reclined position. “This feels better than my mattress.”
“You must have a really crappy mattress.”
“I do,” she said. “Maybe you should give me a raise so I can afford a better one.”
“In your dreams.” Blake chewed on a piece of the hay. “This is where I used to come when I needed alone time. I didn’t have to worry about anyone bothering me.” He rested his hands on top of his stomach. “Sort out my problems.”
“What problems could you have possibly had?”
“Ha. More than I care to mention.”
“Your parents seem to have had many happy years together.”
“They’re blessed. What they share is rare nowadays.”
“Your mother reminds me of my aunt. So warm and caring.”
“She’s definitely the rock of our family. My dad would be lost without her, for sure.” Blake sat forward and rested his arms on his thighs. “I shouldn’t have asked you to do this, Eunice. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize. I’m having a great time. Besides, I could have said no. The truth is…I wanted to be here. Actually, I needed to be here.”
“Needed to be here?” For a moment, he found himself excited by the words. But the thrill was short-lived.
“I didn’t want to be alone at Thanksgiving.”
“Oh.” He could understand why. “For what it’s worth, I’m really glad you’re here.”
Chapter 9
Eunice stepped into her boots and made sure they were snuggly fastened. Today they were visiting the Farrington family farm. Everyone appeared confused as to why they were going before Thanksgiving instead of after like they normally did. If she didn’t know any better, she’d believed Blake had had something to do with it. But she didn’t inquire, because if he’d said yes, she’d have felt guilty that everyone had been forced to alter their plans for her.
Being here felt so right. Blake’s family had accepted her as one of their own. For the first time since she could remember, she actually felt like she fit in somewhere. Too bad it would all come to a screeching halt in a few days.
“You might want to double layer. It gets cold at the farm. Especially when the sun goes down,” Blake said.
“You can keep me warm.” Eunice stopped abruptly. Shit. How’d she keep allowing these things to escape past her lips? “I-I hear you’re pretty skillful at starting barrel fires.” A veiled attempt at changing the subject.
Blake chuckled and continued lacing his own boots. “Yeah, I am. And don’t worry. I won’t let you freeze to death.”
Thirty minutes later, the fifteen-passenger van entered through a massive wooden arch that displayed a black metal sign which read: FARRINGTON FARMS. Gravel crunched as they drove through a lot crammed packed with cars, trucks, SUVs, RVs, and buses. They idled in front of an oversized cobalt blue barn. ENTRANCE, in large silver letters, hung above enormous white double doors.
“Welcome to Farrington Farms,” Blake whispered in her ear.
With all the excitement bustling around her, it didn’t stop her body from reacting to Blake’s warm breath on her neck. “You didn’t exactly do the place justice,” she said, willing away the shiver running up her spine.
Neon signs blazed with labels such as: HARVEST HAYRIDE, CELEBRATION LIGHTSHOW, and CORNUCOPIA CORN MAZE. When they exited the van, Eunice eyed a directory that listed more attractions: CASEY’S PETTING CORNER, TUCKER’S TUMBLEWEEDS, IAN’S APPLE DUNK, and BLAKE’S BOUNCY HOUSE.
Eunice grinned and eyed Blake. “Blake’s Bouncy House. Hmm. Sounds intriguing.”
“Did I mention we’re standing on three hundred acres? There’re places I could hide your body and no one would ever find you.”
Eunice made a zipping motion across her lips.
Casey tugged on Eunice’s coat and Eunice stooped to be at eye level with her. “Yes, sweetie.”
“Aunt Eunice, wanna come to the petting zoo with me?” Casey asked.
“We’ll catch up with you, baby girl,” Blake said. “I want to show Aunt Eunice something.”
“Okay,” Casey said in her tiny, innocent voice and skipped away.
Eunice returned to a full stand. “I just love her.”
Blake sm
iled as he watched Casey. “Yeah. Me too. The second girl who’s ever fully captured my heart.”
How she wished the first had been her, but she was sure that his mother held that position. “What do you want to show me?”
Blake held up his index finger. “Two seconds.” He moved away and said something to his parents and rejoined Eunice. “Okay, let’s go.” He cupped her hand. “Got to make it look good, right?”
It was bristling cold, but the feel of Blake’s flesh against hers raised her temperature a few degrees, taming the cold biting at her exposed skin. Hand-in-hand, they weaved their way through the crowd. “Tell me about this place.”
“Pop purchased the land right after retiring, sat on it a few years, then started farming the land. One day, he says he wants to open this place. So, he did. It expands every year. It’s coming up on ten years.”
“Does your dad still farm?”
“He does small crops now. Mainly for my mom’s use. Most of the vegetables we’ve eaten, he grew. The man has a green thumb. In the summer there’s a rose garden over that hill. It’s enormous. Thelma’s Thorn Patch. He grew it just for my mom.”
What it had to be like to grow up around such love. Just being surrounded by it the past few days felt amazing. “This place must take up a lot of his time.”
“It did until my mother put her foot down. Now it’s fully staffed year-round.”
Eunice laughed. “Now I know who wears the pants.”
“Was there ever any doubt?”
“None.”
They both laughed.
“Easter, there’s an egg hunt. Halloween, the barns are transformed into haunted houses and there’s a haunted corn maze. Thanksgiving…” Blake swept his hand in front of him. “But Christmas…” He blew a heavy breath. “Man, Christmas is amazing. The lights, the decorations, the caroling… There’s also a food drive and charity event. You’ll love it.”
“Does that mean you’re inviting me back?”
Blake glanced at her and shrugged. “Absolutely. Maybe not this year since my parents are spending Christmas in Italy. But definitely next year. Or…” He shrugged. “I guess we could fly down if you wanted.”
Of course she wanted.
Blake came to a stop. “We’re here.”
Lost in the idea of spending Christmas with Blake, she had no idea what he’d just said. “I’m sorry, what?”
“We’re here.”
Snapping herself back to reality, she read the sign on the building. “Homemade kettle corn. My favorite.” But of course, he knew that.
Blake moved behind the counter and shoveled a bag full of the sweetened popcorn and passed it to her, then scored two hot chocolates. After spending a few minutes chatting with the staff, they were off again.
“I’m in heaven,” she said, stuffing her mouth. “There’s nothing better than kettle corn.”
“Oh, I can think of one or two things.”
Well, if he put it that way, so could she.
“Can a brother get a kernel or two?”
Eunice laughed and offered him the bag. “Don’t eat it all.”
“Don’t worry, there’s plenty more where this came from.”
For the next hour, Eunice feasted on kettle corn, cotton candy, funnel cakes, hot dogs, Italian sausages, and s’mores. She’d gulped eggnog and sipped the best apple cider slushy she’d ever tasted.
After a lengthy stroll around the park, she and Blake joined up with the rest of the family at Christmas Tree Land, an expansive area that housed what seemed like a thousand trees in all shapes and sizes. Everyone approved a Douglas fir the size of a skyscraper. They’d even included her in the decision making, which made her truly feel like a part of the family.
Though she’d enjoyed herself, Eunice was happy to be headed back to the house, because her stomach was starting to do back flips. Once she settled into her seat in the back of the van, she reclined her head.
“What’s wrong?” Blake asked.
“You let me eat too much.”
Blake wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close to him. The pounding in his chest patterned the churning in her stomach. “It’s so hot.”
“Pop, can you dial back the heat a little?” Blake said.
His hand moved up and down her arm. “It was probably that third hot dog. You know, you have a pretty big appetite to be so fit.”
Eunice playfully jabbed him in the side. “Watch it, bouncy Blake.”
Blake barked a laugh.
Eunice sat forward with urgency. “Uh-oh.” She rested her hand on her stomach. “I think I’m going to be sick.”
“Pop, pull over,” Blake said. “Quickly.”
Dust rose as the van came to a screeching halt on the side of the road. Eunice practically climbed over the other bench-style seats to get out. The last time she’d been this sick… Heck, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d been this sick. Blake held her hair away from her face as she lost everything she’d consumed at the park.
“Is Eunice okay, Prat?” Mrs. Farrington asked from a distance.
Blake moved his hand up and down her back. “She’s fine.”
“I’m never eating hotdogs again.”
“What about kettle corn, cotton candy, candy apples—”
Eunice tried to laugh, but heaved instead. “You’re an asshole, Blake Farrington.”
“I’ve been called worse.”
“This is so embarrassing.”
“Don’t be embarrassed. You’re surrounded by family.”
“Your family, Blake. I’m an outsider.”
“You best not let my mother hear you say that.” The words soothed her some.
Ten minutes later, Blake escorted her back to the van. His hands rested around her waist as wobbly legs threatened to toss her to the ground.
When they settled back in the van, Vivian shifted to face them. “Are you pregnant?”
“Sweet, Jesus, Vivian,” Tucker said.
“Aunt Eunice is pregnant,” Casey shouted. “Yay. I’m going to have a baby cousin.”
Mrs. Farrington shifted in her seat, her hand resting on her chest. “Pregnant?”
Mr. Farrington popped the steering wheel. “Hot dog, I’m getting another grandbaby?”
“Congratulations, bro,” Ian said.
Blake held his hand in the air. “No one is pregnant. And, Pop, you probably don’t want to mention hot dogs.”
“No, no one is pregnant,” Eunice said, alarm widening her eyes. “We’re not even—” She stopped abruptly. “Not even discussing kids…yet. Or marriage.” She chose not to even look at Blake, because she’d walked them both into a corner. This was so much different than talking to the press. That, she handled with no problem. So what was the problem now?
Luckily, no one pressed the issue. When they finally made it back to the Farrington estate, Eunice apologized and retired to the bedroom. Falling face first onto the mattress, she prayed for relief. She’d even asked Tucker to pray for her. Surely, he had an express line to God.
Blake entered moments later and lay next to her. “Feeling any better?”
“A little. Does your mother hate me?” Blake had told her the story of how Sasha had faked food poisoning the year before. “I’m really not faking.”
“She knows you’re not. She’s really worried about you.”
“I’ll be okay.”
Their eyes locked, and they spent the silence that’d fallen between them doing nothing more than staring at each other. The moment was so powerful that it caused her breathing to go rigid. What was happening to her?
“What would we name them?” Blake asked, breaking the stillness.
“Name what?”
“Our kids. I think it’s about time we discussed them, don’t you? Have you thought about names?”
Clearly, he was referring to what she’d said inside the van. Working with him three years, they’d discussed an array of things. But never kids. “I didn’t know what els
e to say. Vivian and her big mouth.”
“I thought it was funny.”
“You would.”
“Did you see my mom’s face?” He chuckled. “I thought she would keel over. Just for the record, we have to get married before we start having babies.”
“Marriage and babies? Wouldn’t that be taking this charade a bit far?”
“Nah. We have to make it look good, right?”
Eunice laughed, but the idea of wearing Blake’s last name, carrying his babies, sat too well with her. “I’m drained. Don’t let me keep you from enjoying your family. I feel bad enough.”
Blake brushed a lock of her hair behind her ear. “There’s no place I’d rather be than right here with you. Get some sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up.”
Eunice managed a weak smile. “You’re all right with me, Blake Farrington.”
“You’re not too bad yourself.”
Her eyes closed, and she nestled into her pillow. “Cody for a boy. Olivia for a girl.”
“Blake, Jr. for a boy. But I’m okay with Olivia for a girl.”
When Eunice opened her eyes, Blake closed his. “Now all we have to do is come up with four more names. I’ll let you sleep on it.”
Who in the hell did he think would spit out six babies for him? Who was she kidding? At that moment, she’d do it in a heartbeat.
***
Blake tiptoed down the stairs when he noticed Aunt Belle lingering by the kitchen entrance. Creeping up behind her, he whispered, “What are you doing?” He didn’t want to give her a heart attack or anything.
Aunt Belle flinched. She rotated to face him, her eyes as wide as her gaped mouth. “Wh…who are you?”
“I’m Blake, Aunt Belle. Thelma’s son.” He didn’t yell this time.
She scrutinized him. “Have you seen my cat?”
“I didn’t know you had a cat, Aunt Belle.” His parents wouldn’t have allowed her a cat. His dad was allergic. “Maybe you should check upstairs in your bedroom.”
She scoffed and scurried away.
When he entered the kitchen, four sets of eyes settled on him. Now he understood why Aunt Belle was lingering. She’d been eavesdropping. Sometimes he believed the woman had more sense than people gave her credit for.