by Cat Porter
Well, except for that eerie stillness with which he looked at me, watched me, as if he were trying to burrow into my deeply held secrets. Yes, there was something out of balance about that.
But now, holding Becca’s hand, he was relaxed, easygoing. I guess he reserves the strange for me. Who could blame him, after the intense start we’d had years ago?
I cleared my throat. “What I mean is, a day without a doctor visit for me is a really, really good day.”
His lips twitched, and his cheekbones seemed to get more pronounced with that sudden swerve of his lips. “Right. I get that.”
He lifted a hand, gesturing at my tummy. “You and the baby doing good?”
I took in a breath. “Yeah, I’m almost done with the second month, heading into the third.”
His brows pulled together. “You puking every morning?”
I laughed.
Boner usually said what was on his mind and the way it was on his mind. It was refreshing.
“Actually, today, I didn’t, which is pretty exciting. Although, I probably will later on today.” I shrugged.
His gaze fell on me, and I straightened my posture under its weight.
“It’s a real gift—what you’re doing for Grace and Lock.”
“I’m glad it all worked out. It’s a gift for me, too.”
We both averted our gazes.
“Well, my bike’s out, obviously.” He gestured toward his black chopper glinting in the afternoon sun.
My pulse spiked at the sight.
Thank God. Just the thought of getting on the back of his glorious self-styled chopper made my knees weak. It was a real signature piece with specially designed, by Lock, paint–detailing on his black gas tank of a red snake bursting forth from silver puffs of smoke.
I hadn’t been on the back of a bike since I left Catch in Nebraska, and I missed it. I missed the exhilaration of the ride. I missed the thrill of hanging on to my man while I enjoyed that exhilaration of wind, speed, and metallic roar.
What I didn’t miss, however, was clinging to a man I no longer trusted or had deep feelings for.
My gaze landed back on Boner. His eyes were on me, waiting for my response.
No, he wasn’t Catch, nothing like him, and it sure wasn’t the age difference either. Catch was the all-American boy next door gone bad—reckless, daredevil, seedy. Boner was the sage enigmatic phantom who visited you only in the shadows of the night.
His long-lashed extraordinary green eyes pierced me, and I felt that unique rush in my veins, leaving me breathless.
I cleared my throat. “Yep, the bike’s definitely out. Unless you have one with a seat for Becca—”
He laughed. “My truck’s over there.” He turned back toward the open bays of the repair shop. “Yo, Trick! I’m heading out, giving Jill a ride.”
Tricky raised a hand at us.
“Let’s go.” Boner handed me Becca and snatched up her car seat. He tracked toward his pickup, his long hair swinging over his shoulders in the hot breeze.
We set up Becca’s car seat in the cab, belted her in, and climbed into his GMC.
He pulled out of the clubhouse property. “You need anything?”
I let out a laugh.
“What’s so funny?”
“Everyone asks me that all the time.”
He shot me a quirky no-shit grin. “That’s good, right?” His attention went back to the road.
I took in a slight breath to deal with that smile and that tone of voice. That casual, comfortable of-course-you’re-one-of-us-now attitude made a small part of me warm inside.
He was right. It was good. It made me feel like I belonged, was important to somebody—or several somebodies actually—after so many years of straggling, struggling, and drifting from one job to the next, one idea to the next, one set of pals to the next. But this was only for a little while, wasn’t it? Until the baby was born. I’d always be connected to Rae and Tania because Becca was their blood, but how much of a real family member I was to them, I wasn’t so sure. I was just the former girlfriend of Rae’s son and Tania’s brother.
My hand pulled at the seat belt over my tummy. “It’s good for the baby, of course.”
“Not just for the baby,” he said, his eyes flashing at me.
“Well, yeah, okay, but I mean—”
“Not just for the baby,” he said again, easing on the brakes at a red light on Clay Street in the middle of town.
My breath caught at his insistent, tenacious stare.
His head tilted. “Tell me you get that.”
“Yeah, I get that.”
“Good.” His attention shot to the green traffic light. “So, you need to hit the supermarket?”
“Oh. It’s okay.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means, don’t worry about it.”
“I’m not worried, Jill. I want to help you. Do you need to hit the supermarket?”
“I’ll grab Rae’s car and go myself later. It’s fine.”
“Jill, where were you headed before you came by the club?”
My face heated. “To the supermarket,” I mumbled.
“Right. Which one do you go to? Tibbet’s or Safeway?”
“Boner, really, it’s fine. You don’t have to—”
“You got to do a full shop or grab a couple of things?”
“It’s okay, really. Just take us home.”
“Full shop,” he said.
“I’ll take care of it.”
“Sweetheart, I bet you’ve been taking care of it on your own for a long time. Now, which supermarket is it gonna be?”
I sank back in my seat.
“Jill, baby, come on.” His voice softened.
My stomach curled, and I glanced at him. “Safeway, please. They’re having a sale on Becca’s diapers this week.”
“Safeway, it is.” He licked his lower lip as he hit the left turn signal at the stop sign to take us to the main road to the store on the outskirts of town. “That wasn’t too hard now, was it?”
“What?”
His eyes slid to mine, an eyebrow raised. “Telling me what you want.”
I squirmed in my seat, my hand squeezing the seat belt across my chest. “Not too hard.”
He let out a laugh. “Liar.”
What was hard was being in a closed space with him. His scent was so interesting. It was spicy but earthy and mellow all at the same time. I cast a quick glance at him. The relaxed way he drove, one arm slung on the wheel, his long legs stretched before him, his other hand draped over the center console—it was downright sexy. All I wanted to do was stare at his profile and run my fingers through his long hair to finally know what it felt like. Just that—a touch—and I’d be happy. Maybe I should try bumping into him on purpose at some point. Then, my hands could get caught in his fantastic mane, and he’d grab me—
Shut up, Jill.
All this one-on-one attention from him was making my tummy do flip-flops in addition to the flip-flops it’d already been doing as I settled into the first trimester of pregnancy. Usually, Boner and I were in the company of others, never alone. Either at Rae’s house, when he’d stop by with Grace, or at the club, if I’d stop by to meet up with Grace. I’d seen him in town many times, but I’d usually duck out, not wanting to bump into him.
I trained my gaze outside the window. Get a grip. Get a grip.
At the supermarket, he took Becca from my arms, fit her in the child’s seat and took charge of the shopping cart. “You got a list, or we winging it?”
I waved the piece of scrap paper in my hand. “A list.”
“Of course you do.”
“Why, of course?” I asked as we strolled down the pasta aisle.
“I figured, with you having Becca, you living in a new town, being pregnant, taking care of Rae and her house, and it being just over two months in, and you’re still walking and talking with a smile on your face, then you must be organized with a capital O.”
“You would be correct,” I replied, adding boxes of ditalini, fusilli, elbow macaroni, and linguine to the cart.
“You liking Meager?”
“Actually, it’s not much different from where I grew up, which is just north of here, so it feels comfortable to me.”
“You ever go home?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Are you always this inquisitive?”
“Usually helps being inquisitive when you’re trying to get to know a person, don’t you think?”
I stacked the tuna cans next to the tomato sauce in the cart. “I don’t go home because there’s nothing to go home to.” I shot him the plastic smile that I’d perfected over the years, the one that kept the quivering emotions away. I turned my attention to the ketchup, my fingers brushing the bottles on the shelf.
Becca sang to herself. We turned the corner onto the cereal aisle. Suddenly, her back straightened and her eyes widened. She’d noticed the big colorful boxes with her cartoon heroes and heroines lining the shelves
“Uh oh,” said Boner.
“Whatever you do, don’t stop,” I whispered. He kept the cart moving at a quick clip.
I twisted my shopping list in my fingers. “Are you from Meager originally?”
“Nope. Denver.”
“Really? Nice. You ever go home?”
His eyes remained on Becca. “Nothing to go home to.”
The flat tone of his voice had me do a double take. There was that severity again. He ignored me as he squeezed Becca’s hand.
Boner and I had things in common.
Suddenly, dizziness and a queasy swell in my stomach gripped me. That smell. I grabbed the edge of the shopping cart, a cold sweat beading on my forehead. “Oh, no.”
“What is it? Shit, you’re pale.”
“The rotisserie chicken from the deli department.” I gulped in a breath, the nausea swirling up my throat. “Not good.”
Boner immediately turned the shopping cart around and grabbed me by the arm. “This way, babe.”
Half an hour later, I had filled the cart with everything on my list. “I’m done. Do you need anything?”
His eyes creased. “What do you mean?”
“Food, paper goods, household cleaning items, feminine products?”
His eyes lit up, and my insides warmed again.
“Yeah, there is one thing.” He wheeled the cart to the household goods aisle and stopped in front of the slim selection of toys. “This.” He grabbed a small baby doll packaged in a plastic box and handed it to Becca.
Her eyes widened. “Baby?”
“Yep. What do you think, Becs?” he asked her.
Becca hugged the box in a death grip.
“Say thank you, sweetie,” I said.
Becca stared at Boner, her fingers whitening over the box. “Ank you.”
“You’re welcome.” He tilted his head at me. “Done now.”
He took us home and brought the bags into the kitchen.
Boner stared out the window. “This backyard needs a lot of work.”
“Rae used to have this kid from down the block take care of it, but his family moved, and no one else is interested in helping out. Landscapers are a little expensive for her right now, with the doctor bills and all that.”
“You ain’t doing it either.”
“No, no. I was going to put an ad in the local gazette and ask around. I just haven’t gotten to it yet. Oops.”
“I’ll take care of it.”
“You’re going to do it?”
“No, I’ll have one of the prospects take care of it.”
“Are you sure? I mean—”
He faced me, his body brushing mine, as we stood at the kitchen window together. “What do you mean?”
His cinnamon breath from the gum he’d been chewing fanned my face, and prickles went up my neck at the dark shadow crossing the angles of his cheekbones and jaw.
“I mean, I’m sure your prospects must have more important club things to do than mow a local lady’s lawn and weed her property.”
“On top of the fact that Rae is good people and a solid part of our community, you’re living here, too, and you’re good people and a part of our community now.”
“So, it’s a good PR move for the club then?”
“PR?” His eyes narrowed, as if I’d said something unintelligible, and I instantly regretted it. “You mean, my boys get seen out here, raking and clipping while wearing their colors, doing a thorough job. Then, the neighbors see Rae’s terrific new garden and ask her about it, and Rae sings our praises to the locals. Nothing better than that kind of word of mouth. That kind of PR?”
“Uh-huh.”
“I wasn’t thinking of the PR, Jill. If I know that Becca has a clean garden to play in, I’m going to feel good, knowing that she’s happy and that her grandma’s happy out there, in the clean garden, watching her granddaughter enjoy it all, and—”
My eyes bugged out of my head. “There’s more?”
His hands went to his hips. “It takes one thing off your to-do list, which will lighten your load and make you happy, and then you’ll be able to enjoy your daughter enjoying her grandmother’s garden. That’s why I’m taking care of it.”
Something fluttered in my chest, and I tore my gaze away from his green eyes that were literally sparkling in the sunlight filling the kitchen.
“Well.” I chewed on my lip. “That’s a hell of a lot of happy.”
“LET’S HEAR IT for the dark-haired princesses. Right, Becca?” I clapped my hands, and Becca clapped with me. “Thank you for getting her the DVD, Rae. We love Snow White.”
“My pleasure, honey. We’re going to start her off with the classics. Cinderella will be next on our list.”
I turned to Becca. “Oh, Cinderella! I love Cinderella.”
Becca’s gaze jumped from me to her grandmother and back again. She clomped over to Rae, who sat in her electric lounge chair, and climbed onto her lap. My heart squeezed. I was so grateful that she had a grandmother whose lap she could climb onto, a grandmother who watched classic movies with her, told her stories, fed her, held her, laughed with her, shared her home with her and her mother.
Every day, I thanked God that I had landed in Meager, South Dakota. After Catch’s sister, Tania, and her friend Grace had saved my daughter from a kidnapper in Nebraska, I had left with them and come to Meager where they lived. Tania had offered me room and board and pay to look after her mom and her house now that Rae was ill. It was a temporary solution that was working out great for all of us.
Catch and his family were estranged, so it was kind of ironic that I, his ex-girlfriend, was now a part of his family. I truly liked being a member of their circle. His mom, Rae, was an outspoken and smart woman, Tania was the same with a vein of humor and sass I really enjoyed, and his eldest sister, Penny, was a married mom to two boys, no-nonsense and practical to the core.
Tania and Grace had ended up saving my daughter from Creeper, a renegade One-Eyed Jack, and Grace and I had finally met by that stroke of fate. Her first husband, Dig, had saved my life by killing the man who had kidnapped me when I was fifteen. A week later, Dig had been shot and killed by my captor’s brother, in revenge for that act of salvation. Since Grace was unable to have her own kids, I had offered to carry her and her new husband’s baby.
I was thrilled to be a part of their new start. It had been a new start for me, too, a huge positive. It was giving back with gratitude, coming full circle.
Now, here I was, a member of a family I’d never expected to have in my life, and it felt good.
Rae adjusted her electric reclining chair. “My mother used to sing that song to me.”
“Which song?”
Rae began singing Snow White’s song about her prince coming one day.
Becca raised her hands and laid them on her grandmothe
r’s face, enjoying Rae’s clear, strong voice vibrating over her.
“My mother used to sing it to me, too,” I said. “And I used to fully expect a man in colorful tights, a cape, and a crown on his gorgeous head to come knocking on my front door at any moment.”
Rae’s face warmed with a smile that told of a lifetime’s worth of contented sighs and rich heartbeats. “Mine did.”
“From everything you’ve told me about your husband, he certainly was a prince.”
“A farmer prince!” Rae laughed.
I packed the DVD back into its case. “My mom used to tell me, ‘He will come one day, and you best be ready for him.’”
“She was right. But that doesn’t mean that you wait by the door with your coat in your hand, ready to take off the second Mr. Prince comes knocking. No, first, you need to be the person you want to be, and then you’ll be ready for your proper prince. Otherwise, he won’t be the right prince for you.”
“Good point,” I said.
Rae sipped on her tea. “It’d be unfair to yourself and to him—expecting him to make your dreams come true, to fill you up and make you happy. If you’re not happy on your own, with yourself, you will never find it in someone else. It simply doesn’t work that way.”
Catch and I had done that, hadn’t we? We’d had so many expectations for each other from the very beginning. As soon as all the little disappointments had piled up, the resentment had grown easily and created a thousand wedges between us.
“Look at Snow White,” I said. “She had to deal with the huntsman, the dwarfs, and the evil queen before she was ready for that magic kiss, right?”
“Your mommy is so smart!” Rae said to Becca, who was gnawing on a graham cracker.
I glanced at my daughter. Becca wore the same adamant look of concentration on her face that her father did while he ate.
Rae stroked Becca’s back. “You’re young yet, Jill. You’ll find someone else, and he’ll find you. I only hope it’s not too late for Tania. She’s determined to follow through on her divorce. Who knows? Maybe she’ll give Kyle another chance now that she’s going back to Racine.”