From Dust

by Freya Barker

  “Yes,” I answer, “despite the fact that we’ve established I can’t catch fish if my life depended on it. I’m having a good time. You?” I turn to find him watching me with a smile on his face, something I’ve seen him do a lot of today. Looks good on him.

  “After the rocky start, I’m having the best day I’ve had in a long time,” he says earnestly. “We needed a family day.”

  The look he throws me is almost a challenge to question his wording, but I don’t. I feel it. A sense of belonging with this man and his kids. No words have been spoken, but I know his feelings for me must run deep. It has been evident in his every action, and I know I’ve fallen hard, for all three of them.

  Suddenly I realize how much I have to lose and my breath sticks in my throat.

  “Hey ... what’s wrong? You’re white as a ghost.” Gunnar is beside me in an instant and tilts my face to his. “You sick?”

  All I can do is shake my head no as I try to stave off the panic that’s come over me. “Not sick. This day was wonderful. I was just thinking how much I suddenly have to lose. I had no such worries for the longest time and now...” I let the sentence trail off and lift my eyes to his face.

  “Syd,” he says softly, sweeping a strand of hair from my face. “We’re not going anywhere.”

  “I know, but—“

  “No. You have a place here with us. With me, Bird.” His eyes are warm and loving as he leans in closer, and I can feel in my bones what is coming. “I lo—“

  I quickly slam my mouth on his, drinking in the words I’m really dying to hear, but can’t. Not yet.

  When he pulls back moments later, there’s an amused glint is in his eyes.

  “Did you just cut me off?”

  I drop the fishing rod and turn to climb on his lap, sliding my arms around his neck and leaning my forehead against his. “Only because when you say what you were going to say, I want there to be no secrets between us. I need you to know all of me first. You may not want to say them anymore once you do.”

  “That’s fucking crap, Syd,” he says, obviously angry. “Nothing could change it.”

  “All the same, I need you to know.” I kiss the frown between his eyebrows and feel him soften again.

  “We’ll find the time to talk. Tonight.”

  When I nod my agreement, his mouth slides over mine and his tongue finds entry in a passionate kiss full of promise.

  “Eeewww!” Dex is standing on a rock in the water, looking in our direction. Gunnar chuckles when I try to hide my face.

  “Won’t be saying eeewww for much longer, kiddo. Just you wait.”

  “Dad! Don’t say stuff like that,” Emmy pipes up, walking toward us from the direction of the lighthouse. “Disturbing enough to see my father kissing, but it would be sooo much worse if it was my little brother.” There’s a twinkle in her eye as she teases Dex.

  Gunnar throws his head back and laughs at the interplay that develops between the kids. I look at the strong column of his neck, the forceful jaw, and the way his face is transformed into something beautiful when he laughs and I realize he’s happy.

  And right here, in this moment, with laughter filling the air and the mild breeze on my face—I find I’m happy too.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Gunnar

  “A Sea Dog old brown, two pale ale drafts, and a diet coke.” Matt puts his tray on the bar as he settles in to wait for his order.

  The moment we got back to The Skipper from dropping the kids off at Mrs. Danzel’s, the busy Friday evening swallowed us up. Syd relieved Viv in the kitchen and I took over bartending duties for the evening.

  We haven’t had a chance to talk yet. Not with the kids around. I know she wants to know what happened with Cindy earlier, and I’m eager to get whatever is pulling at Syd out in the open, but it’ll have to wait. Nothing much to tell on my part anyway; Cindy went off like a banshee when she spotted me at the school, claiming I was keeping her kids from her and she’d be calling the police. All the while, the strong smell of alcohol surrounded her. By the look on the principal’s face, I wasn’t the only one who’d noticed. Between us, we managed to get her outside where I told her, in no uncertain terms, that her behavior was going to go on record, and that if she wanted to maintain her position in the children’s lives, she would fucking need to clean up her act. With a handful of witnesses hearing the exchange in the school parking lot, Cindy made the smart decision and drove off. Not trusting my ex, I went to pick up Dex and Syd so we could go and get Emmy as well. Time to show these kids they have at least one parent.

  Walking in on my son snuggling up with Syd froze me on the spot. Fuck, if I didn’t have to swallow hard against the lump that suddenly got stuck in my throat. Her small body, not very much bigger than my boy’s, yet protectively curved around him, shielding him from the world and giving him her love. What she said to try and comfort him cut me deep. The evidence of her own struggles were clear in every word.

  “You okay, boss?” Matt asks as I slide his drink order on the tray.

  “Yeah, why?”

  “Because trouble is coming through the door,” he says solemnly. When I look over his shoulder, I know exactly what he means. Trying to create a larger than life image with his massive girth and pretentious handlebar mustache, Graham Bull looks more like an oversized Hercule Poirot than the fast food chain image of Colonel Sanders he’s so obviously attempting to emulate, and he’s not alone. The familiar face of his inquisitive lackey walks in, right behind him.

  Well this should be interesting.

  “What can I get you gentlemen?” I dive right in as they sit down at the bar.

  “This isn’t a social visit.” The bite to The Soul Filets’ owner’s voice is unchecked. The man is out for something, but I’m determined not to let him rattle me. “Do you know who I am?”

  I almost chuckle at the pompous ass, but manage to swallow it down. “Sure I do. Your face is plastered all over the Eastern seaboard. Kinda hard to miss, Graham.” The casual use of his first name pisses him off, I can tell. Guess he’s used to folks bowing down to him, but he’ll be hard-pressed to find me doing the same. “I’ve also had the pleasure of meeting your... associate? Although he never quite managed to give me his name.” I make no attempt at masking my sarcasm. “Since this is a pub, let me pour you gentlemen a drink. Perhaps then you can tell me what it is that brings you here.”

  “Courvoisier,” the pretentious ass says with an eyebrow up, fully expecting me to tell him I can’t provide that. Seeing his face drop when I bend down to the shelf that holds our select stock and come up with the familiar Cognac bottle, pleases me to no end.

  “One Cognac coming up. And one for you, sir?” I turn my attention to the other man after placing the bowl shaped snifter on the bar, who shakes his head.

  “Anything you have on draft.”

  “Sea Dog pale ale good for you?” He responds with a nod. Graham hasn’t taken his eyes off me the entire time.

  “I want to buy your bar.”

  I don’t stop or look up from pulling the draft, not wanting to give Mr. Bull the satisfaction of a reaction. Leisurely scraping the cap of foam back to the rim of the beer glass, I place it on the bar before raising my eyes.

  “You do? Well, I’m sorry to have to tell you this, but I’m not for sale, and neither is my pub.” I place my hands wide on the bar and lean in. “This place has been in my family for decades and I have no intention of changing that.”

  I observe a slight tremor to the hand of the suit lifting his draft to his mouth. Interesting. I understand better when Graham shoots the man a sharp glance before turning back to me. “I was given the impression you might be willing to negotiate.”

  “Well, you’ve obviously received faulty information ‘cause I have absolutely zero interest in even considering it, for any amount of money.”

  A thick silence falls after my words as he quietly sips his Cognac. Regarding me boldly, his sidekick slightly squirms on the st
ool beside him.

  “Mr. Lucas. It has come to my attention that you have been at the core of some trouble recently. A fire, I believe? And a rather nasty incident with one of your employees?”

  If I was suspecting it before, I am now almost certain that Burns has Sergeant Winslow in his back pocket and I feel anger pushing up. But it’s the dismissive referral to Syd that finally gets to me. With all that I am, I keep from hurling myself over the bar and wiping the smug grin off the bastard’s face.

  “You may have been able to buy the dubious support of some of our local law enforcement, Graham, but I warn you; I have my own connections and I can guarantee they won’t be so easy to buy off. In fact, I think it’s about time I demand a proper investigation into that fire. I have a feeling our Sergeant Winslow may not have been as thorough as he could’ve been.”

  The slight twitch in Graham’s jaw is a welcome sight, but even more gratifying is the blatant wince on the face of his companion. These fucking people keep making the mistake of thinking they’re dealing with a small time idiot. What they don’t realize is that decades of great community standing and maintaining good relationships with patrons pays off in helpful connections when you need them. Portland may be the largest city in Maine, but it has a tight community.

  “I’d hoped we could come to some agreement today, Lucas, but I see I’m wasting my time.” The pompous ass pushes himself back from the bar and stands up.

  “If your idea of an ‘agreement’ is for me to cave and sell to you, then you are absolutely wasting your time. There is room enough on the wharf, Bull, if you could only see past your own massive ego. You may find that it could be mutually beneficial to have a little competition to crank up sales.” With that I turn away and take an order at the other end of the bar, leaving the two to find their own way out.

  Syd

  I find Gunnar in his office, head down on his arms on the desk. I slip behind him and slide my hands from his shoulders to his neck, feeling the tensions of the day knotted there. With firm, long strokes, I start working his muscles loose.

  “Ahhh, that feels good,” he mumbles, his head still down on his arms.

  We haven’t talked all night, but I heard the reports from Matt when he’d come into the kitchen. There is enough weight on this man’s shoulders for now with concern about his children and his business, no need for me to add to it. What I have to say won’t go away, so it can wait.

  “Why don’t you go home? I’ll finish the deposit and get Matt to go with me to drop it in the night slot. You go home to the kids.”

  Gunnar swivels around, grabs my hips, pulling me between his legs and leans his head against my midriff. I run my fingers through his longish hair and he moans, pressing his face into my belly. “I have a better idea,” he offers. “We do the deposit together, let Matt lock up and you come home with me.”

  “You need rest, Gunnar.”

  “I want you to come home with me,” he repeats.

  “The kids—“ I try, but he quickly interrupts.

  “We slept in the same bed for over a week with them in the house, Syd.” I hear a smile in his voice.

  “Yes, but we weren’t ‘doing’ anything then,” I try again, only to be met with a pair of mischievous eyes.

  “Are you saying you won’t be able to keep your hands off me?”

  The man is impossible.

  “Fuck, babe. You feel so fucking good,” he mumbles in my neck as he slides into me from behind.

  I have my hands braced on the tiled wall, one foot hiked up on the side of the tub and Gunnar holding my hips as he pumps inside me. The warm spray from the shower runs off my back. Barely able to contain the sounds that wants to escape me, I turn my head and bite into my arm. So good.

  “You ready for me?” he grunts, sliding one hand between my legs while his body curves around me from behind, pulling my back against his chest. My head falls back against his shoulder as he works my clit with his fingers, his cock filling me up, and I can’t hold back when a blinding orgasm overtakes me.

  “Ahh ... Gunnar!”

  His arms are clasped around my body to keep me upright while he pushes inside me twice more before groaning out his release, holding himself deeply planted inside.

  I ended up giving into Gunnar and came home with him, fully intending to simply curl up in bed with him, nothing more, but as soon as Mrs. Danzel left and we walked into his bedroom, he had me up against the wall, his leg inserted between mine, putting the most delicious pressure to my pussy. I almost came from riding his thigh alone. My attempts to deter him were fruitless and within seconds, he had me in his bathroom, stripping me down. My token resistance was quickly washed down the drain the first time he made me come in his mouth, on his knees in the tub.

  Now clean, dried, and dressed in one of Gunnar’s shirts because I refused to stay naked with the kids in the house, I curl up in the strong arms around me.

  “Glad you came,” his deep voice vibrates through his chest where my face is planted. “I needed you right here.” He squeezes his arms around me.

  Tears flood my eyes as I let those words settle inside me. To be wanted like this—needed even—fills my heart. The realization I have a place in his life, in his arms, has me voice feelings I was keeping to myself. “I love you.” So softly, yet I know he heard me when the next second I’m on my back, Gunnar hovering over me with his hands on my face.

  “I want to look you in the eye when you say that. Tell me.”

  His eyes, dark and swirling with emotion, bore into mine as he whispers, “Please ...”

  “I don’t kn—”

  “Please ...” he pleads again.

  I ignore the niggle of guilt. I know I should tell him everything first, but this moment right here, I don’t want to let it pass.

  “I love you, Gunnar.”

  Dropping his forehead to mine and with our lips almost touching, he starts to say something, but I lift my mouth to his and swallow the words. The kiss is sweet and languid before turning hot once again. And it isn’t until after we both come again, our bodies still connected and heartbeats racing, that he calls me out.

  “You can stop the words from my mouth, but you can’t stop the feeling in my heart.”

  “You’re back.”

  Dex climbs onto the bed with a big smile on his face.

  “Hey, buddy,” I say, wiping the sleep from my eyes, noticing Gunnar gone. “Where’s your dad?”

  “Gone with Emmy to get donuts for breakfast.”

  “Yeah? Sounds good,” I tell him as he worms his small body under my arm and cuddles up beside me.

  “I like the jelly filled ones, the ones with the powdered sugar on top? Those are the best, but I also like the ones with the pudding? What are those called? They have chocolate on top.”

  He turns his face to me expecting an answer, and I have to swallow down the emotions. His early morning chatter, the warm little body curled up against me in the easy acceptance of my presence—it makes me feel blessed.

  “Boston Cream; my favorite,” I smile at him.

  “Mine too.”

  Dex shoots up at his father’s words from the doorway and exclaims, “Yesss! Donuts are here,” before scrambling off the bed and through the door.

  Gunnar’s eyes are holding mine as he stalks toward the bed the moment Dex’s butt is out the door. I’m caught in his gaze until his mouth almost touches mine. Slipping my hand over my mouth, I turn my head away.

  “Morning breath ...” I mumble in way of explanation, but he grabs my hand and drags it away, and just as I open my mouth in protest, he covers it with his and slides his tongue inside, claiming me thoroughly. By the time we come up for air, my hands are tangled in his hair and my breasts are plastered against his chest.

  “Christ, you taste sweet,” he mutters with his nose buried in my hair. “Have I told you I love your hair? First thing I noticed about you. Even then I wanted nothing more than to tangle my hands in it and kiss you silly.”<
br />
  A giggle escapes me.

  “Really? On the floor of the men’s room with you hopping from leg to leg with a full bladder? All I remember is how dark and angry, and breathtakingly handsome you were.”

  “Breathtakingly handsome, huh?” his cocky grin makes me smile.

  “Figures you’d get stuck on that instead of the ‘dark and angry’ part of my description,” I say teasingly.

  “Hey, I can’t control where my mind gets caught up. You’ve been there ever since that first encounter, firmly lodged, no matter how hard I tried to ignore it.”

  Loud voices filtering up from downstairs break the moment.

  “Dad! Dex stole a donut from me!” Emmy’s voice carries up the stairs, her brother’s angry one in the background.

  Gunnar rolls his eyes and stands up from the bed. “As much as I love seeing you in my bed, I’m thinking you should get some clothes on and come down for breakfast before these two make quick work of the donuts, that is if they don’t kill each other first.”

  A quick peck on my lips and he’s out the door and down the stairs, his deep voice negotiating a truce between the siblings as he goes.

  Once freshened up and dressed, I head downstairs to find peace returned, as well as a plate with a single Boston Cream donut beside a steaming cup of coffee on the counter.

  “Sorry,” comes from Emmy who is sitting at the far end of the island. “I didn’t know Boston Cream was your favorite.”

  I turn to look at Dex, who’s sitting on the couch in the living room, watching a cartoon on TV. His eyes flick to mine and he shrugs his shoulders. “Had to grab it or she would’ve eaten it.”

  The explanation of a nine-year-old is melting my heart. I walk over to where he sits and kiss his head. “Thanks, buddy, but don’t fight with your sister.”

  “Kay,” he says without taking his eyes off his TV program.

  “And you ...” I tell Emmy as I reach her and slide my arm around her. “You have nothing to apologize for. In fact, if you still want, we can share the donut. Tastes much better shared than eaten alone anyway.”