by Quinn, Taryn
Yeah, I needed a nap.
“No, you have to go now. I need to get some sleep.”
I rubbed my chin along her shoulder. “Comfy bed. We’ll both sleep. I don’t care if you snore.”
“I do not snore!”
Her outrage sounded suspiciously like the same tone she’d used when she found out she’d fainted in front of me. “Okay then, even better.”
“I like to sleep alone.”
I lifted my head. “Is that why you kicked me out last time?”
I’d thought that was more of a dude thing. Personally, I enjoyed a good cuddle. It did the body good. Unless it was over eighty degrees, then I needed to revise that thought.
Then again, I’d never really stuck around for much more than a Sunday morning hangover cuddle.
But Rylee was different. I liked her smell—obviously—and the way she leaned into me.
Pretty much everything was an anomaly when it came to her.
My eyes were already closing again. “I’ll leave in a few minutes.”
She shook my shoulder. “Gotta go now.”
I propped myself up on my elbow. “What the hell, Ry?”
“You knew what this was when you came upstairs with me.” She sat up against the headboard, her arm holding the sheet up against her breasts.
“Yes, but that doesn’t mean we can’t have a little afternoon catnap.” I tugged on the sheet with a grin.
She pulled it up more firmly. “It’s been a long day.”
I sat up and swung my legs off the bed. Even I could take a hint eventually. “Yes, it has been. I thought it had been a good one in the end.”
“I’m still jobless. I just happened to get a few more orgasms as a severance package.”
“Wow. Thanks, glad to help.” I stood up and grabbed my jeans and underwear before closing myself in the small bathroom outside her bedroom.
I took care of business and got dressed, then washed my hands and got my shit under control before I came back out.
I’d known when I came upstairs with her that she was going to do this. I’d hoped she wouldn’t, but I shouldn’t be surprised. It wasn’t as if she was acting differently from the last time we’d been together.
But dammit, it all felt different. The night before the wedding, it had been a regular hookup. I’d appreciated the fact that she didn’t want to linger and make things weird.
I curled my hands around the sides of her tiny sink. Now?
Now, it felt as if she was simply shutting me out for no good reason. I knew I wasn’t a good bet, but I wasn’t a fucking ogre.
Not even close.
I opened the door and went back into her bedroom. She was laying on her side, her back to me. She’d pulled on an oversized T-shirt that dwarfed her and put the bed back together from pillows to blankets.
The sheets were the same color, or I’d have said she stripped the bed to erase me. Maybe all hope wasn’t lost if she wanted to smell me on her sheets for a little longer. But fuck, she looked so small and almost sad. And dammit, I didn’t want that either.
The anger seeped out of me. Clearly, more was going on here than I’d suspected. Maybe she had bad shit in her past that made her wary about trusting men.
I picked up my shirt that she’d neatly set at the end of the bed. I’d just have to work a little harder to prove to her that I was worth a chance.
Ten
I stared out the window as Gage quietly got dressed and left my room. I ached to tell him to stay. To feel his arms around me again.
I understood sex. I wasn’t one of those women who pretended that it wasn’t one of the best things God ever invented on the little rock we called home. Procreation aside, it was a damn fine way to spend a day.
And Gage was generous and inventive without looking for me to do some yoga pose he saw in the Kama Sutra. His freaking tongue should be bronzed—twice, then put in some hall of fame. Secretly, of course, because he didn’t need a bigger head about it.
Though the head at the end of his cock certainly held cause for standing ovations. Jesus, that man knew how to make my body sing.
The part about him making my body sing, I could deal with. It was the sleeping together business that caused me to pause. I could have curled right into a long, lovely nap. His body was warm without being a furnace, which was definitely a problem in my life lately.
If menopause meant hot flashes like the ones I was having, I was not looking forward to my later years.
But the idea of him finding about my sleepwalking? And the possibility of doing something crazy in front of him?
No, no, with a side of hell no. I just couldn’t allow him to see me that way. He’d think I was a freak. Maybe I was.
I slid my pillow over my head.
Never again. My boyfriend in college had found out stress equaled zombie Rylee. And at first, Shane had been super sweet about it. Only teased me a little about my odd little quirks. But when I’d ended up in the middle of the quad at two in the morning—yeah, it had stopped being cute. Especially since there was a party going on that night.
He became known for having the weird girlfriend. And that wouldn’t do.
I’d been horrified, and embarrassed. Add in the fear factor about wandering somewhere on campus and insomnia destroying my class schedule, and well, college hadn’t been for me.
After a few months at home, it had stopped happening. I’d settled into a regular life with a few different jobs over the years. Nothing ever stuck. I’d played around with doing online classes to get a degree, but the whole college experience had been so tainted that eventually, I’d decided to avoid all of it.
I rolled onto my back and pulled the pillow off my face.
God, I didn’t want to go back to being that scared, insecure girl. I hated that this was encroaching on my newfound freedom.
Exhaustion sat on me, but I still couldn’t settle. And Gage had wrung me out so I should be in a near-coma. A single tear slid down my temple into my hair as I shut my eyes and counted backwards with long slow breaths.
If I could just sleep, then maybe I could make sense of my life.
A girl could dream.
I must’ve dozed off, because when I rolled over again, my room was dark. I stumbled out of bed and used the bathroom and because I actually felt achy, I took a long, hot shower.
Maybe it would put me back to sleep.
I was hungry, but too tired to actually fix anything, so I returned to my bed and surfed the internet on my phone. Soon enough, I was drifting off again. The sun was shining the next time I opened my eyes.
Nothing looked amiss in my bedroom. Halle-freaking-lujah.
I went about my morning ritual even though I didn’t have a job to go to. After I brushed my teeth and got dressed, I braved my living room and my belly filled with dread.
My aloe plant sat in the middle of my couch, wearing marshmallows on the ends of each leaf.
“Well, at least I didn’t leave my apartment.” I said to the room at large as I picked off each fluffy square.
At least I hoped I hadn’t.
I hadn’t done a grocery run after my last sleep snafu, but the mere thought of doing that right now put me in a deeper funk.
I dumped the marshmallows in the garbage and took a water from the fridge since that was safe. I put stacked the cups from my counter in front of the door, made sure the chain was engaged—though that hadn’t stopped me before—and returned to my bedroom.
I kicked off my jeans and crawled back under the covers.
Fuck everything and everyone.
The buzz of texts on my phone dented my sleep, but I was too depressed to answer my sister or Gage. I binge-watched Revenge and my dreams were filled with water and murder. Probably not the smartest move on my part. I didn’t need my subconscious to do any further damage to the outside world.
The cups I’d stacked in front of my door were still there two days later, so at least whatever havoc I wrecked was limited to my apa
rtment. So far, Emily and Victoria’s vindictive antics on the show were staying off the playing field of my home. However, my obsession with peanut butter was evidently at an all-time high.
When I couldn’t stand my own company any longer, I finally crept downstairs to Brewed Awakening. It had been a few days since I’d kicked Gage out of my place. My version of coffee couldn’t compete with the espresso machine of glory in Macy’s cafe.
“Well, hello, stranger.”
I turned to find Macy up on a ladder, hanging a pastel swag of bats and pumpkins. I quickly crossed to her when one of the ladder’s feet thumped with her monkey stretch. “Jeez. Can’t ask for help or something?”
She grinned down at me and looped the little ring around a tiny hidden hook in the corner of one of her built-in shelves. “Why?”
I rolled my eyes. Why indeed. “Well, I’m bored so I can help if you want.”
She winged up one of her crazy arched brows. Everything about her features were sharp. Kinda matched her personality. “I haven’t seen you in a few days. Can you hand me those pink pumpkins?”
“Yeah. Drama follows me around.” I blew out a breath and handed her the brightly glossed gourds. “Your idea of spring is cool.”
“Thanks. I’d have the place decked out for Halloween all year round if I didn’t have to deal with Whitaker and her cronies.”
“Who are they?”
“Town council. They like the classic town decor.” She made slow, deliberate quotation marks with her fingers.
“Oh. Yeah, that doesn’t surprise me. I bet they have a set day to change over the lights in the gazebo too.”
“You know that they do.”
“So, pink pumpkins.” I laughed.
“Damn right.” She tucked a pink pumpkin behind the yellow gourd already on the shelf. Then flipped out two of the Stephen King books on the shelf. Spring meets “It” and “The Stand”.
“I love it and the two finger salute.”
“This is why we get along, mocha.” She stepped down. “I resisted the urge to send Mrs. Irene Whitaker a very lifelike bat for Christmas.”
“I don’t even know this woman and I probably would have paid to see it.”
“She’s friends with your boss.”
My smile fell. “Kathy?”
“Yeah.” Macy tightened her ever-present ponytail. “Best friends, I’d wager.”
“Well, then I definitely would have paid to see that. Ex-boss, by the way.”
“That sounds like a story. Want your usual?”
“I would love a coffee.”
“You got it.” She strode though the cafe, weaving around tables, picking up mugs and plates on her way through with an efficiency that made me tired.
I’d only been awake for a few hours and it felt as if I was slogging through molasses mid-freeze. And because I was tired of feeling useless, I grabbed a few plates on my way to the counter.
“Thanks, mocha.”
Suddenly, Macy’s face was being eaten by black dots. Plates hit the floor and the last thing I saw was Macy’s “oh, shit” face before the room went lights out.
Next thing I knew, Macy and Vee were propping me up on the couch.
“All right, there she is.” Macy’s face swam into focus.
Vee held a cool washcloth on my neck.
I shook my head. “Oh, no.”
“You scared the crap out of us, mocha. I’m thinking this isn’t the first time based on the look on your face.”
“Oh, shit.” I dropped my face into my hands. “What the hell is going on?” Tears threatened, but I managed to battle them back. Crying wouldn’t help.
Macy stood and went to the front counter. “She’s fine, people. Go back to your food.” She grabbed a bottle of water and came back to sit next to me.
“This is bottled water. Because you don’t drink the water in Crescent Cove. Unless it’s too late.” She held the bottle away from me. “Did you?”
“What? No. I…” I shook my head. “No.”
“Really? Because Gage was up at your place for a while the other day,” Vee said with a grin.
“Yeah, well, even his super sperm isn’t good enough to inseminate me in two freaking days.”
“That’s true. Maybe you just have a virus.” Vee stood up, then rubbed my arm. “You okay?”
No. I was so very far away from okay, but I waved her off. “Yes, sorry. Go ahead and do your thing.”
Vee glanced at Macy, then at me with barely concealed glee. “More babies.”
“I’m not pregnant,” I whispered.
“You sure about that?” She collapsed back on the couch next to me.
“Of course. I haven’t done anything…like that.”
Macy and Vee exchanged knowing glances while my mind spun.
Except for that crazy night in December when Gage and I were so insane for each other. We’d practically fallen on each other as if we hadn’t had sex for years. And okay, it had been awhile for me, but I still couldn’t explain it. Even after another round with him, I couldn’t begin to understand why I reacted to him like I did.
Like he was oxygen and I was starving for it.
And that first night?
We’d been insatiable.
Much like the second go-round. If he’d stayed for that nap he wanted to take, I had no doubt that afterward, we would’ve been playing naked bingo with his dick for a chip.
Or a dauber. Jeez, what did they play bingo with nowadays anyway?
Not penises, that was for sure. Missed opportunity.
“That’s not a good expression,” Macy said.
I frowned. I didn’t even have cause for alarm. I mean, I didn’t have the most reliable period, but I’d definitely remember not having it for freaking months. “No, I got my period since…well, the last time I—” I huffed out a breath. “Not that you need to know all that.”
Macy crossed her arms and tucked herself into the corner of the couch. “I don’t know much about the baby thing, but there’s all sorts of mysteries during pregnancy. This fucking town is way too much of an education.”
“Yeah, but I used protection. There’s no way.”
“No way, what?”
I nearly choked at the deep voice behind me. Please God, no.
All dogs might go to heaven, but all Rylees perpetually lived in hell.
Maybe that was just me.
Macy’s eyes widened and she popped off the couch. “Yep, my cue to go.”
“Wimp,” I growled.
“Yes, ma’am. And I just remembered I need to order filters for all the machines.”
Vee laughed and hurried after her boss.
“Assholes,” I muttered, but a laugh bubbled under the word. Maybe Macy really was onto something when it came to this town.
“Filters? Did I miss something?” Gage looked down at me and immediately crouched in front of me. “God, you’re pale.” His eyes narrowed. “Shit. Did you faint again?”
I wanted to die. I still replayed that moment when Gage had lifted me into his arms far too often. Embarrassment warred with pleasure that he cared about my well-being. Then and now, judging from the worry lines dug deep into his forehead.
Even his forehead was hot. Or else I was a touch feverish to go with my fainting spells and exhaustion.
I was a bag of fun, except not even close.
“No…yes. Maybe.”
“Ah, huntress. We need to get you to a doctor. What happens if it’s something more serious than you not sleeping?”
It seemed that it might be way more serious and no pill could fix me. Well, not anymore.
Reflexively, I covered my middle with my hand. I couldn’t be pregnant. Wouldn’t I have other signs…
Oh, like hormones going crazy maybe?
Like eating everything in sight, even when I was technically unconscious?
Perhaps feeling as if a bus had hit me without tapping the brakes, sleep or no sleep?
Nope, no signs at all.
<
br /> He took my hand. “Are you feeling sick?”
God, could this get any worse?
“Gage, I’m okay.”
My affliction might be of the nine-month variety. With an extra special bonus of something that will be a part of me forever.
I met his gaze. Part of us.
Just the thought of us forever linked made my brain whirl.
If I was pregnant—which was still a very strong if—my baby daddy was a race car driver without a job right now. He probably wouldn’t even be sticking around.
I had no job. And no idea what the hell I was doing. Oh, and I was sleepwalking again.
My free hand went to my middle. “What if I hurt the—” I swallowed.
Saying the word would make it real. I wasn’t ready to go there yet.
“Hurt the—” His eyebrows snapped down. “Are you pregnant?”
Honesty was the only thing I had left. I was simply too tired to even try to evade.
“I don’t know.”
Eleven
If the floor opened up and swallowed me whole, I couldn’t have been more surprised.
“Rylee.”
“I don’t know, Gage. Okay?” Her huge dark eyes were wild. She kept looking around the room. Anywhere but at me. And her hand crept along her belly.
Jesus.
Part of her and part of me in there.
“Mine?”
Finally, her eyes stopped wheeling around. “Of course it’s yours.” She stood up and pushed me back. “Who else? I don’t go around doing—what we did with just anyone.”
I caught myself on the edge of the table and straightened from my crouched position. “Okay, okay. I just had to ask.”
“Which is exactly why I wouldn’t want to tell you.”
“You wouldn’t what?”
She tried to walk out of the room, but I caught her wrist. “You wouldn’t tell me?”
“I don’t know.” She tugged her wrist free.
My gut bottomed out again. “I get that you’re upset, but Jesus, Rylee. It’s our kid we’re talking about.”
“Keep your voice down.”
“Because you’re ashamed to have my kid?” I didn’t lower my voice. Sure enough, people started glancing our way.