A Change Of View (Northern Lights Book 2)

by Freya Barker

  “My father’s tobacco of choice,” Roar says, and it makes my heart do a little skip in my chest.

  “Mine too,” I smile, cursing the blasted tears that threaten again.

  TWENTY-FOUR

  She is now embedded in my senses and entwined with my warmest memories.

  Roar

  I didn’t realize seeing her in my sanctuary would have such a visceral impact on me.

  My instant reaction had been anger at the invasion, but the longer I watched her from the doorway, lightly touching each of the pictures, while carrying my dad’s old pipe around in her other hand, relief followed right on its heels. Funny, this is a room I don’t ever socialize in. Other than Charlie and Bill, no one else comes in here. Even Patti knows this is off limits. I’ve always assumed she respects my wishes.

  Having Leelo touching my things, my memories, it feels right.

  The thought of sharing everything with her is not as scary as I thought it might be. I’ve been very protective of my privacy ever since my best friend, as well as my marriage, blew up within mere months of each other. There’s no danger of feeling that kind of bone-deep loss when you barely let people under your skin. The only person who still has that power is Charlie.

  Until now.

  Until Leelo.

  I watch as she blinks away the tears from her eyes. What are the odds the smell of Amphora tobacco would come with similar memories for us both.

  “Every now and then I’ll sit here and miss him,” I admit, stopping right in front of her and cupping her face in my hands. “I’ll pack and light one of his pipes until the smoke brings the good memories to the forefront. It helps me.”

  She takes one step forward and does a face plant in my chest. My hand cups around the back of her head and I rest my chin on her crown.

  “Would you like me to light one?”

  I feel her body freeze under my hands, after a moment, she lifts up her face and what I see there has me swallow hard. Her eyes big and shiny, gazing up at me with such beautiful pain and hopeful trust. A look like that settles deep in a man’s heart.

  “Please.” I barely hear her whispered plea, but I see her lips form the words.

  I pull her down on the couch with me, settling her in the crook of my arm. With my other hand, I grab the pouch of tobacco and the pipe she was holding, and with her in the circle of my arms, I pack the pipe, and hand her the lighter. She expertly touches the flame to the bowl when I clamp the pipe between my lips and pull in air.

  “What’s in those?” she asks, her eyes on the narrow shelves between the windows where I store my jars filled with notes and scraps. “More receipts?”

  “Something like that,” I mumble, pulling her close with my free hand.

  She settles in, tucking her head under my chin, and her left hand splayed in the middle of my chest, as I take the first few drags, blowing billowing clouds of smoke around us.

  “I miss him,” she says softly after maybe five minutes. I rub my hand down her arm and up again.

  “What was he like?”

  Leelo sighs deeply beside me and takes such a long time, I’m not sure she’s going to answer.

  “He was wonderful. He worked hard, but on the weekends and during his vacation, he was all about his family. He taught me to love the outdoors, even though Mother was never a fan. She had a conniption fit when he came home with a tent and sleeping bags one summer. Forced him to rent a cottage, so she could have her indoor plumbing, her ice cubes, and a proper mattress, while he and I pitched the tent beside the cabin and slept there the entire week. He would cook on a wood fire and showed me how to clean fish. He used to say that Mom needed looking after, but like him, I’d be able to survive on my own.” She sniffs the air and sighs. “And he’d always ask me to come sit with him on the porch steps while he had his nightly pipe, because mother didn’t like him smoking in the house.”

  “And he smoked Amphora,” I fill in, and she lifts her face and smiles at me.

  “And he smoked Amphora,” she confirms. “What about your dad?”

  I take a deep pull from the pipe and blow a few perfect rings in the air before answering.

  “Very similar to yours, by the sound of it. Loved the outdoors, taught me everything I know, and adored Charlie and me. We weren’t ready to lose him. Not by a long shot. And I don’t think Charlie ever got over him.”

  “My mother was married to the first of my stepfathers within six months.”

  “Fuck me,” I mutter, imagining how that might have been for a young girl, who just recently saw her father buried.

  “I’d love to,” she deadpans, and my reaction is immediate. My eyes drop down to see her dancing ones shine up at me, and my cock is instantly awake.

  “You sure?” I ask, already tapping the embers from the pipe bowl into the ashtray. Leelo nods by way of answer and twists her body toward me, tugging my face down by my beard.

  “Positive,” she says, her breath brushing my lips.

  Leelo

  I understand his reluctance.

  It’s been a shit day, and both of us have just lost ourselves in bittersweet memories, but something makes me want to deepen the connection. Claim this moment and make it ours—own it.

  I don’t hesitate. I press my mouth against his and slip my tongue between his parting lips. His hands grab my hips and guide me to straddle his lap. For a man in his mid-forties, Roar’s body is incredibly responsive. The prominent ridge of his already hard cock feels delicious between my legs.

  With his hands now kneading my ass, as he encourages me to rock against him, I feel sexy.

  Don’t get me wrong, I look like shit warmed over—I’m wearing an old worn shirt and flannel pants, and my face is a mess—but to feel the almost involuntary physical response he has to me is powerful. I’ve never felt more wanted.

  His breath under my lips comes in small grunts, with each grind of my slick heat along his length, and I don’t hold back my own sounds of pleasure. Mindless and natural, the way we move together. Beautiful.

  He lets go of my mouth and drops his head back on the couch, lips wet and parted and his heavy-lidded hazel eyes almost black with heat, the focus intently on me as his large hands continue to work my cheeks.

  “I love your ass,” he growls, digging his fingers into the most noticeable part of my anatomy. “I’d love to flip you over this couch, pound my cock into you from behind, and watch the soft flesh jiggle every time I bottom out inside you.”

  Holy shit. My nether parts just did an involuntary Kegel at the mental picture that conjures.

  I quickly dismiss the inner voice—the one that sounds surprisingly like my mother’s—reminding me of the occasional, unsightly red bumps on my ass. Those burning eyes fixed on mine tell me I am beautiful, bumps and all.

  I crawl off his lap and grab for the hem of my shirt, when he holds up his hand, stopping me.

  “Stay right there,” he grunts as he gets up, adjusting himself in his pants.

  I watch as he walks to the door, flips the lock, dims the lights, and prowls toward me, pulling his shirt off, and dropping it on the floor. I let my eyes feast on his strong body, not chiselled but solid, steady, and supremely sexy with those big shoulders and muscular legs. By the time he stands in front of me, he’s left a trail of clothes behind, and is as naked as the day he was born, his fierce-looking cock jutting out straight from the dark red patch of tight curls.

  Magnificent.

  “Let me,” he says, brushing my hands that are still clutching the hem of my shirt away.

  Without taking his eyes off mine, he whips off my shirt, dropping it carelessly, and then pushes down the flannel pants along with my panties, helping me step out of them. Only then does he let his eyes wander up and down my naked form.

  Instead of making me feel self-conscious, he makes me feel desirable and my body tingles in response.

  Wordlessly, he guides me around to the side of the couch, where he turns me and pushes me down ove
r the armrest, his large hand between my shoulder blades. He bends his body over mine, his cock teasing my ass cheeks as his voice rumbles in my ear.

  “I always imagined you sitting on my face would be a fantasy come true, but having you bend over for me, your ass up for the taking, beats all.”

  I can feel the rumble of his voice like electricity buzzing under my skin, and when his hand slips around and between my legs, fingers probing the wetness gathered there, a shiver runs down my entire body.

  “So ready for me,” he groans, right before I feel just the blunt head of his cock press inside me.

  He straightens up, and at first I perceive the sudden cool air on my back as exposure, but when I twist my head, and see the heat in the way he looks down on me, I feel alive.

  With his free hand, he takes a firm hold of my hip, while the fingers of the other slip around our connection between my legs, and with a deep satisfying grunt, he drives inside me.

  -

  Sweaty, satisfied, and replete, I snuggle into his body, my knee pulled up over his legs.

  We are on the couch, watching the moon outside the large window of his library. My fingers play in the curls on his chest while I listen to the beat of his heart, steady once again.

  “I’ve never been fucked like that before,” I admit, slightly embarrassed.

  It’s true, despite my age; I’ve had little in the way of creative sexual experiences, but not for lack of a vivid imagination. I’ve probably explored them all in my fantasies. Riding Roar on the deck of his boat was definitely one, but the sheer animalistic surge in our most recent session is by far the most exciting and the most liberating.

  “You weren’t fucked now,” he says, his voice low but clear. “I know the difference. I’ve fucked before, but, Sunshine, every time with you I’ve been making love.”

  I lift my head and prop my chin on my hand covering his chest, so I can look at his eyes on me.

  “Making love...” I repeat dreamily, feeling myself fall even further.

  “The way I feel about you, it can’t be anything else.”

  I’m the first one to look away at the message I read clear in his eyes, but I do it with a soft smile on my lips.

  I hear him. I don’t need words when everything he says and does is evidence of how deeply he feels for me. I may be insecure at times, but I’m not stupid.

  The sappy smile still on my face, I drop my cheek back on his chest, my fingers once again playing with his chest hair.

  “Me too,” I tell him, my eyes already closing.

  “I know,” is the last thing I hear before I drift off.

  Roar

  “Mom?”

  “Roar? You in here?”

  I wake up to loud pounding, surprised to find myself buck naked on the couch in the library, with Leelo’s soft body half covering me. The pounding on the door resumes, and she stirs in my arms, her sleep-swollen eyes blinking against the morning light streaming in.

  “Mom?”

  Matt’s voice can be heard outside the library door. Thank God I had the presence of mind to lock it before I bent Leelo over the couch last night. The memory puts an instant smile on my face and a rise in my dick.

  “Fuck,” Leelo mutters, scrambling off the couch.

  “We’ll be right out!” I yell, enjoying the view of her ass as she bends over to grab at the pile of clothes on the floor, tossing mine in my direction.

  “They’re here,” I hear Matt telling someone outside the door.

  I chuckle at the look of panic on Leelo’s face as she frantically tries to straighten her hair that teeters in a tangled mop on her head.

  “It’s fine,” I assure her, pulling her hands down and running my own fingers through it, to loosen some of the snags. “You’re fine. We just tell him the truth...” I snort when her eyes threaten to roll from their sockets. “That we fell asleep on the couch while talking.”

  Her little fist is sharp as it meets my midsection, eliciting an involuntary, “oomph”.

  “Pull your shirt down,” she hisses, pointing at my happy morning dick clearly outlined in my pants.

  “It’s natural,” I defend, but she’s already tugging at the hem of my shirt, trying to cover the bulge. I don’t have the heart to tell her that she’s not helping matters.

  When I finally pull open the door, I’m surprised to find not only Matt and the dog, but Patti waiting outside as well.

  “What are you doing here?” I ask, none too graciously. But instead of looking hurt, Patti narrows her eyes and plants her hands on her hips, glaring at me.

  “I was worried, you idiot,” she spits out, but her face softens when she spots Leelo hiding behind me. “Sunday mornings I clean the OPP detachment in town. Bill mentioned your place got ransacked,” she directs at her. “I came to see if you needed help, but you weren’t there and the place is still cordoned off with police tape. I figured I’d find you here.”

  “Thank you,” Leelo mumbles behind me, and I step aside to guide her forward.

  “Anyway,” Patti continues. “I got here and found this young man roaming about, looking for you as well.”

  “We fell asleep talking,” Leelo sputters beside me, and I can’t help the grin on my face. She couldn’t sound guiltier.

  Matt rolls his eyes and saunters off to the kitchen, and surprisingly, Patti smiles kindly at Leelo before completely changing the subject.

  “Why don’t you two freshen up and I’ll get some coffee and breakfast going? That boy of yours looks like he could use something.”

  “Thanks, Patti,” I manage to call out as she too disappears into the kitchen.

  -

  “She’s nice,” Leelo says, after spitting out her toothpaste.

  We’re in my bathroom, sharing the sink.

  “Yes, she is,” I confirm, grinning at her reflection in the mirror, toothpaste dribbling down my beard. I quickly duck down and rinse my mouth and beard, before I continue, “She’s always been a good friend, first and foremost. You’ll find that up here, in a small community where you often have to depend on each other whether you like it or not, good friends are important to your survival.” I watch as she slowly nods, taking in what I’m saying. “Take her at face value, Sunshine. She heard about what happened and came running. I understand why she makes you uncomfortable, but it would be a shame if you let that colour your view of her.” I reach out and stroke the backs of my fingers down her cheek. “What are you thinking?”

  “I could use another friend,” she says softly, but I can see it’s not easy; she has to swallow hard.

  “Come here.” She steps into my arms without hesitation and circles my waist with hers. “Remember what I said about the difference between fucking and making love last night?” I feel her nod her head under my chin. “Good. Then I won’t have to repeat myself.”

  She snorts into my shirt, mumbling; “Aye aye, Sir.”

  Fuckin’ A.

  TWENTY-FIVE

  She is da bomb.

  Leelo

  It’s a little less awkward this time when I walk into the kitchen to find Patti behind the stove.

  Especially when she shoots me an almost apologetic smile.

  “Hope you don’t mind,” she says, clearly conceding control to me. Something I’m grateful for.

  “Not at all,” I reply with surprising honesty. “I’m starving.” Bacon is sizzling in a large skillet and Patti expertly flips blueberry pancakes on the griddle. “Maybe I can return the favour some day,” I add, and she casts a curious glance over her shoulder. “Stop by the motel, and I’ll cook you breakfast one morning.”

  The motel. Shit. My restaurant. Jesus—my fucking kitchen.

  I sink down in a kitchen chair at the table, a heavy weight landing on my shoulders. If not for Matt walking up behind me, leaning over my shoulder, and kissing my cheek good morning, I might actually have burst out crying at the sympathetic smile Patti sends my way.

  “Bill mentioned he’d call as soon as his
guys have all they need from your place,” Patti says, forcing through that awkward moment. “I have a bulk-sized box of garbage bags, buckets, mops and cleaning materials in the back of my car. We’ll get that place back in decent shape in no time.”

  “Okay. Plans,” Roar says, sitting down beside me with a pen and pad. “Bill just called, he’ll meet us at the motel in thirty minutes to take pictures for your insurance and note down anything missing. So eat up.” He turns to Matt, who sets down a plate Patti just handed him, piled high with pancakes, in the middle of the table. “We’re measuring windows. Today every broken pane gets replaced. As will every lock, including the ones for the units.” He scribbles on his pad and looks at me. “You and Patti take detailed notes of everything inside that is beyond repair, take pictures and then toss it. I’m having a bin brought in later this morning.”

  “Travis doesn’t open until after church, you know that right?” Patti says to Roar, while she pours me a coffee.

  “He will today. Bill already called him first thing this morning.”

  And just like that the floodgates open.

  Tears are streaming down my face as I listen to Roar and Patti organize the cleanup. With every word I hear, a little of the heavy load is lifted off my shoulders. Myself, I haven’t done anything but worry and yet around me people are jumping into action. I never had to ask, they just do what is needed.

  It’s overwhelming. The past few days have slowly eaten at my resolve, but the way this community steps up to support someone they barely know is humbling. So I cry, because I don’t know what else to do.

  “Awww, Mom,” Matt, who notices, mumbles as he comes around the table and crouches beside my chair, wrapping his arms around me. I gratefully bury my face in his shoulder as I let it all hang out.

  It’s cathartic. Cleansing.

  But it really sucks when the sniffles subside and you realize you’ve just made a spectacle of yourself in public, and you’re going to have to show your tear-streaked face and red nose. I’d rather keep my head buried in Matt’s shirt.

  “Mom,” he nudges, trying to untangle himself from the desperate hold I have on him by now. “Let go, Mom. My shirt is soaked.”