by Robyn Carr
“Whoa,” Connie said.
“Holy shit,” Sierra said.
“Epic,” he whispered, kissing her.
Then a sound came from the floor and they both looked to see Molly on her back, having what looked like a wrestling match with one of Connie’s socks in her mouth. Molly was apparently oblivious to everything but the sock, just as Conrad and Sierra had been oblivious.
“Oh, I’m so sorry,” Sierra said.
“You’re kidding me, right? I’ll buy her a case of socks.” He rolled onto his side, bringing her with him. “I want to tell you a couple of things.”
“Listen, I’m not ready to—”
“You don’t have to be ready for anything, Sierra. I just want you to know a couple of things for your peace of mind. I’m a simple guy and that happened between us because you’re important to me. When someone’s important to me, they’re safe with me. I won’t ever lie to you, I won’t be with other women and I won’t hurt you. At least I’ll try to never hurt you. You can trust me, Sierra. You can count on me. But I’m not taking hostages. If anything about this, about us, doesn’t feel right or good, all you have to do is tell me.”
Inexplicably, she felt her eyes tear. She hadn’t cried in so long, she thought she had dried up forever. “Do you have any idea how sweet you are?” she asked in a soft voice.
“I’m just an ordinary guy, Sierra. I like my life just fine. I like it better with you but that’s my issue, not yours. You tell me what you need and I’ll do my best. Okay?”
She shook her head. “I won’t lie to you, either.”
“Thank you for this,” he said, pulling her close. “I think I was a lot more ready than you were, so thank you.”
“Conrad, you are very welcome.” She shifted her hips a little. “Very welcome.”
* * *
Sierra hadn’t slept with a man she truly cared about in so long, she couldn’t remember when. Maybe never. No, that wasn’t right. She’d had a few relationships that lasted awhile—maybe three or four months. They were troubled, of course, because she was troubled. Unstable and difficult and all over the emotional map.
She hadn’t slept with a man like Connie, a sweet and kind man who just happened to be a blockbuster in bed. She curled up beside him, her head on his arm, soothed by his callused hand gently stroking her.
The bed dipped as Molly tried to take her place between them, but Connie said, “No, you have to get on one side or another. Right over here. Eee! Jesus, that nose is cold!” Sierra giggled. “You think it’s funny?” Connie said. “I was goosed!” She giggled more.
Sometime in the night she heard his phone ring and her paranoia kicked into gear even though she was the one naked and sated beside him. Some woman, she thought, making a booty call?
“No, Sully, she’s not lost in the woods. No, Molly isn’t lost, either. Good night, then.”
“Sully?” she asked.
“He woke up and saw your car wasn’t back yet. He couldn’t resist. He’s pretending he was concerned but I think we both know—he’s nosy.”
In the very early morning when the sky was just beginning to lighten she was awakened by Molly barking and Connie yelling. She ran, stark bare-ass naked, to the back of the house to look out the kitchen window where she saw Connie clad in only boxers, holding on to Molly and shouting at six or seven elk to get out of his yard. The elk didn’t appear to be the least bit concerned with either Molly or Connie and it made her laugh.
She dashed for the bedroom to wrap the sheet around herself when they came back inside. She looked at the clock; it was only five thirty, but that wasn’t too early for Molly.
“I should probably get going,” she said. “It’s time for Molly’s breakfast.”
He grabbed her around the waist, whirled her around and, lifting her slightly, kissed her. “Your dog woke me up to go outside. Say thank you properly.” And then he buried his lips in her neck and growled.
For once in her life, Sierra chose not to kick good fortune in the teeth. She put her arms around his neck and let go of the sheet. It was caught between them and dragged, which of course made Molly think it was playtime. She bit at the sheet, pulled it, chewed it and wouldn’t let go. But Conrad was not discouraged. He reached into his bedside table, grabbed a condom and then grabbed Sierra, pulling her into the bathroom and closing the door on Molly. He was not the least bit distracted or dissuaded by the barking, whining and scratching at the door. He made sure Sierra was completely satisfied before he satisfied himself.
“Oh my God, who taught you how to make love?” she asked him.
“No one taught me,” he said. “That’s ridiculous. Nature taught me.”
“Nature didn’t show you how to back a woman up to a bathroom counter and melt her bones like that.”
“Isn’t it amazing what you can figure out when you have to?” He gave her a kiss. “Do you want a shower before you go? Breakfast? We could improvise for Molly...”
“I’ll take you up on that shower...alone. Then I’ll get Molly home for breakfast and I’ll have my coffee with Sully.”
“I hate to let go of you,” he said.
“The dog will starve if you don’t.”
“Can I be serious for a second?” he asked.
She felt a moment of dread. She wasn’t ready for him to get too serious. “Sure,” she said.
“I think it was almost the best night of my life,” he said.
She smiled at him. “You’re just saying that because my dog goosed you,” she teased.
“I’m saying it because it was. Can we talk later today?”
She nodded. “Of course. Are you working?”
“I’m helping out with a bunch of camp kids at the firehouse—just a few hours. I’ll come to the Crossing later. Is that okay?”
“You’ve been doing that almost since we met, Connie,” she said.
“Oh, that’s right.”
She took a breath. “It was one of the best nights ever for me, too,” she finally said.
He slapped her on the ass. “I don’t know how it could be. The dog didn’t goose you.”
* * *
There was another thing for which Sierra was grateful, if a little nervous at the same time. She had someone to come home to. Sully was waiting for her. Molly’s dish was full and Beau hadn’t touched it, though he’d eaten his own.
“Well, good morning, ladies,” Sully said. “And did we have a nice evening?”
“I spent the night,” she said. “Big deal.”
“Coffee?” he asked while pouring a cup for her.
“I’m thirty years old,” she said. “Old enough to make adult decisions for myself.”
“Did I say anything?” he asked.
“You’re judging me,” she said.
“If I were judging you, which I am not, my judgment would be that you chose a good man to pal around with. I’ve known Connie since he was about seven. How about an omelet? With bacon?”
“Are you supposed to have bacon?” she asked.
“I’m making it for you. You probably need sustenance.”
“So, how long are you going to have fun with this?” she asked.
“I don’t know,” Sully said. “I have a lot of stamina. Just ask your brother.”
She was planning to see Cal that afternoon but talking to him about Conrad was the last thing she wanted to do. “It occurs to me I have a shortage of women in my life. And a surplus of very bossy men. As it happens, I was thinking of going over to Cal’s to see how the barn’s coming along, but I wasn’t planning to discuss my personal, um, business.”
“Then you better wipe that glow off your cheeks. Your personal business is shining all over your face.”
“I’ll have an omelet,” she said. “Extra bacon, please.”
Cal and Tom had made tremendous progress on the downstairs—the kitchen was complete and most of the flooring was installed. The laundry room and mudroom were finished, complete with cabinetry. Cal had had the cabinets made and brought to the house to install them all, an operation that took three days, but it gave the barn a classy, complete look. Except there was no furniture, but for that picnic table, which at the moment was covered with catalogs and fabric samples. “We’re getting started on the furnishings, some of it will take nearly a couple of months.”
“I hope the baby doesn’t come early for your sake,” Sierra said.
He tilted his head and peered at her. “Did you get a little sun today?”
“Probably,” she said. “I helped Sully this morning, since I didn’t have to work. I’m going to help him this week as much as possible—the Fourth of July is coming up and the campground is full from Wednesday till Tuesday.”
Cal looked at her more closely. “Could that be...whisker burn?”
“California!”
“It’s whisker burn,” he said, grinning at her. “I’ll be damned. I thought Connie was going to have to work at it all summer.”
“We’re very good friends,” she said.
“Sierra, don’t get your back up. I don’t care if you have a boyfriend. In fact, that makes me happy. After what you’ve been through—”
“He doesn’t know,” she hastened to inform him.
“And that’s okay, too,” Cal said. “I haven’t even told Maggie. I probably will, eventually. Or you will. But it broke my heart. Just like it broke yours. And I want you to have a chance to heal.”
“He’s not my boyfriend,” she said. “He’s my good friend.”
“I don’t care, Sierra. As long as you feel good about it, whatever it is. I don’t know Conrad that well but Maggie does. And Maggie loves him.”
After they talked awhile longer, after Cal pointed out every seam in the floor, every door frame and hinge, every fancy cabinet with slide-out shelves and special drawers with dividers, they hugged and said goodbye. Sierra held the door of the pumpkin open for Molly to jump in the backseat. She looked at her rosy cheeks in the rearview mirror and said to Molly, “It’s okay if we have a boyfriend as long as he’s a good boyfriend.” And Molly smiled.
Connie was at the store when she got back to the Crossing. He was loading some trash into the back of his truck for Sully.
“What’s going on?” she asked him.
“I was just hanging out, waiting for you to come back, and I told Sully I’d take this to the dump on my way home. How’s the barn look?”
“It’s starting to look great. They’ve been at work on it for eight months and it looks like they’re going to make it. Are you hanging around for a little while?”
“Sure. Want to come home with me? Have dinner?”
“I’m sure you’ll sympathize, but I’m a little tired...”
He grinned proudly. “You have plans?”
She shook her head. “Just dinner with Sully. I bet you could stay if you want to.”
“I’ll just have something cold to drink, then get to the dump. If you change your mind, you have my number. I’m staying home tonight. Other than tired, you doing okay today?”
“Excellent,” she said. “I’m taking a little teasing from Mr. Sullivan. Are you?”
“He hasn’t said a word. What could he say to get to me? I won the lottery. I’m the luckiest man alive.”
“And how were the camp kids today?” she asked him.
“It was so much fun,” he said. He put a hand at her back and turned her toward the store and pushed her gently in that direction. “They were all over the rig, screwing around with the hoses, trying on the hats and one kid even got his hands on turnouts and boots. We gave ’em lunch, talked to them about fire safety, about campfires and wildfires, and I’m pretty sure we have fourteen wannabe firefighters, seven of ’em girls.”
“How old were these kids?”
“Camp kids—they were ages eight to eleven. I always forget how much energy they have. Then to make sure they wouldn’t slow down, we made ice cream sundaes. They’re going to wiggle all night. Till they pass out.”
“Do you always volunteer to deal with the kids?”
“Only if it’s convenient, but most of the other guys have kids. Maybe they get enough of ’em at home. I like the kids. Unless they’re brats. I have a hard time with the brats.”
“But you love kids,” she said.
“I love kids, but mostly good kids.”
They helped themselves to cold drinks and sat on the porch. Within a couple of minutes Sully was with them and had a lot of questions about Cal’s progress on the barn so Sierra described everything right down to the hardwood floors that weren’t really wood but porcelain that looked like wood. “And according to Cal, it doesn’t require any maintenance like the wood does.”
After a couple of cold drinks, Sully was ready to make dinner and convinced Sierra to help and Connie to stay. They worked together to grill fish and vegetables, a staple to their diets. And when dinner and dishes were done, Connie was ready to go. “Walk me to my truck,” he said to Sierra. He kissed her goodbye, deeply, letting her know with his lips and embrace how much he’d like more. But he told her to sleep well.
Sierra and Sully hung out together until the sun was nearly down. The grounds were quiet, the dogs peaceful, Sully had his nightcap and Sierra her tea and Sully said good-night.
“Just in case you’re inclined to worry, I think I’m going to take Molly out for the rest of the evening. I’ll be fine.”
“The rest of the evening or night?” he asked.
“Whatever feels right at the time. I’ll have my phone if you need me.”
“I’ve gotten by over seventy years without you. Enjoy yourself.”
She drove with the windows down, Molly hanging her head out and letting the wind billow her lips. She’d felt a smile inside of herself all day long. She couldn’t help it, she felt strangely renewed. She’d enjoyed physical love that felt clean and pure; sex without a price or consequence with a man who made no demands and respected her speed, or the lack. He respected her space and her body and he didn’t push her. He was honorable. He had integrity. She had forgotten such men existed. Indeed, in her world, they’d been very rare and they’d never been hers.
She wasn’t sure why but Connie cared about her. And she was falling for him.
Molly was barking the second she got out of the car. Sierra ran the short distance to the front door, but it opened before she could knock. She threw her arms around Connie’s neck and kissed him.
“Is this a booty call?” he asked, smiling.
She nodded. “You don’t have company or anything, do you?”
“I left you less than two hours ago. You think I have a booty call speed dial?”
“You don’t?”
“Sierra, this is my first booty call. Am I going to like it?”
“I can almost guarantee it,” she said.
* * *
Sierra slept so soundly, she never heard a sound. When she rolled over in the early morning, Molly was sleeping where Connie had been. She said, “Well, good morning.” And Molly burped in her face. “Nice,” Sierra said. “What have you done with my boyfriend?”
Molly stretched.
Connie had whispered late last night that he’d be going to work early in the morning and said she should sleep; he’d be quiet. Sierra was typically an early riser and had fully expected to stir when he left the bed, but instead she slept deeply. She thought he said he’d be leaving at six. She looked at the bedside clock—seven. She’d missed morning coffee
with Sully by a couple of hours.
She slid out of bed and grabbed her T-shirt off the floor. She headed for the kitchen but paused for a second. Connie’s house wasn’t big like Cal’s but it was an open plan—living room, kitchen, breakfast bar, dining area, all together. And it was immaculate. No more clothes hanging over chairs or tossed on the furniture. The kitchen shone; the carpet had vacuum tracks. There was a note on the counter.
I hope you slept in. There’s coffee ready—just flip the switch. Molly was fed and has been outside. Call me when you’re up. Love, C.
She looked down at her dog. “You’ve been fed?” Molly wagged. She saw that by the door there were two dog bowls—one with water in it. The other empty.
She went back to the bedroom to grab her phone. She called him. “Conrad, when did you do all this?”
“Ah, you’re up. All what?”
“The spotless house, the dog dishes, dog food...?”
“I had a little time yesterday before I met the camp kids. And I got the dishes and food on my way to work. Just in case...”
“Just in case Molly spent the night again?” she asked.
“Always prepared,” he said. Then in a lowered voice he said, “She didn’t even goose me last night. But it was a great night anyway. Hey, there’s cereal and milk and fruit and eggs...”
“I’m going to get out to the Crossing. I promised to help Sully this weekend.”
“I’m on for twenty-four hours. I might be pretty tied up. And if I can steal a little personal time, I have that errand...that sad errand...”
“I don’t know what you mean,” she said.
“I promised to look in on Alyssa’s mother. I’m only planning to do that once and I should do it before I’m too late. Not for Alyssa. Because I always liked Rachel. She’s a good woman.”
“Of course,” Sierra said. “I’ll talk to you when you have time.”
“I’ll call you, if that’s okay.”
“Sure. And, Connie—thank you for the dog food. And everything.”
“I’m really glad you came over,” he said in a hushed voice. “I could get used to that.”
“Don’t get used to it,” she warned. “Let’s not set up a lot of expectations.”