Leaving Bluestone

by Fredrick, MJ

  “Amazing?” he managed.

  She laughed and reached up to kiss him. He cupped his hands under her ass, settling deeper into her.

  “I’m not going to last,” he warned.

  In answer, she lifted her hips. He drove himself into her, losing himself in the experience, her body gripping him like a fist, and he exploded in her, adding to the heat, staying deep until he emptied.

  And when he was done, he stayed for a few minutes longer because he could, then brought her against his side and kissed her forehead, her cheek, her mouth. When he fell asleep with her in his arms, he dreamed about a log house on the lake, and Lily with her stomach rounded with his child.

  Chapter Eleven

  The nights were the only times he saw her anymore, as she worked on the Christmas arts and crafts festival. On top of that, people were missing the movie nights and baseball games from the summer and bugging her to think of something to entertain them, like she was everyone’s mother. So while she wasn’t busy on the launch—ice-up was a few weeks out, and then she’d be overseeing the distribution of the ice houses—she was working on the festival and the community Thanksgiving dinner, and collapsing into bed with him every night.

  “My folks are coming for Christmas,” she said one night when he reached for her.

  “Okay.” He hadn’t seen them since early in the summer. “Is there something I should do? Does this, I mean, do you want me to stop coming over?”

  She cupped her hand over his cheek. “Just like a man to wonder if he’s going to get laid or not. No, you can still come over. My parents know I’m a big girl.”

  A flush heated his face. “I meant—do they know we’re together?”

  Her smile gentled. “They know. I do talk to them.”

  He resisted the urge to ask what they thought about their vivacious daughter with the sullen barkeeper. He didn’t really want to know.

  “They’re not going to—expect anything?”

  “Like what? A ring on my finger? They may try to nudge you in that direction.”

  Some of the light went out of her eyes and she shifted away, making him wonder. Did she want a ring? Of course she did. Her best friend was married and pregnant. Beth, also her age, was engaged. And they’d been sleeping together for three months. Her thoughts had to drift in that direction.

  “Lily.” He stroked her hair against her back.

  “I was going to ask if you would invite your family.”

  He stilled. “Are you crazy?”

  “They could stay in my cabins. It’s going to be hard for them the first year without your father. They might really enjoy themselves here in Bluestone.”

  “I could care less.”

  “Quinn. It’s important.”

  He slanted a look at her. “Not to me. You’ve met them, Lily. You really want to subject your family to that?” Another thought occurred to him. “Or is it to keep me busy while you’re off with your family?”

  “No, of course not. I want you to spend time with my family, too. But maybe if your family gets to know you, gets to know what you enjoy, you can get along.”

  “You can’t fix us, Lily. It’s too late.”

  “It’s not too late until they’re gone.”

  That gave him a twinge, and he curled upright and got off the bed. “The answer’s no. I’m going to go home.”

  “Don’t be mad, Quinn.”

  “I’m not. I just—not feeling very romantic right now.”

  “When do you ever?” she teased. “Just horny.”

  “Yeah, not that, either.” He stopped at the bedroom door and turned back to her. “I’m not mad. I just—really don’t want to think about them.”

  She folded her arms behind her on the pillow and eyed him. “And what do you suppose you’ll do when you go home?”

  She was right, of course, but he turned and left anyway.

  ***

  Thanksgiving morning was cold and rainy, but Quinn was at the bar and grill early setting up the tables and wondering how in hell his place became the Bluestone community center. It wasn’t because he was sleeping with the organizer of this damned thing—he’d fallen into her trap before he’d fallen into her bed. They’d held out hope that the uncommonly warm weather from last week would hold and they could celebrate outside, but Mother Nature had decided to crowd Quinn a little more, possibly to see if he would lose his mind.

  He hadn’t returned to Lily’s bed since the discussion about bringing his family here. He wasn’t mad, but he didn’t want to open up the conversation again. They’d talked, but she hadn’t brought it up again, hadn’t mentioned the lonely nights.

  He missed her. Tonight he was going to drag her home, or follow her home and make everything right. For now, he’d do whatever she told him to do, and pray for this day to be over.

  Then she came through the door backwards, carrying the biggest damned turkey he’d ever seen. He crossed to her, set the bird on a nearby table, took her face in his hands and kissed her.

  “Wow,” she said, laughing when he lifted his head.

  For the first time he saw Trinity, Beth, and several other women were behind her, similarly laden. He and Lily hadn’t been affectionate with each other in front of anyone, though everyone knew they were sleeping together. He hadn’t really thought his kiss would end up being the gesture that invited everyone into their business.

  Trinity led the way past them with a grin. “We have work.”

  But the rest of the morning, Lily smiled across the room at him, even as she bossed him around.

  Then people started pouring into his bar, sitting at all the tables he’d set up, lining up along the bar to serve themselves from the turkeys he and Leo carved, the rows of casseroles prepared by different families, organized ruthlessly by Lily. Trinity’s brother, the preacher, offered grace, and everyone stood together to hold hands, then they sat at the tables.

  After the clean-up—not so bad with everyone pitching in and taking home their old dirty dishes—Lily was swaying on her feet.

  “All right, enough,” Quinn announced to Beth and Maddox, who were still helping. Leo had taken the very pregnant Trinity home hours ago. “The rest will wait. This one won’t go home until we do, and she’s done.”

  “We can finish,” Lily protested as Maddox and Beth bundled up, but her words were slurred.

  “Tomorrow,” he said firmly, and shooed out the other couple before helping Lily into her coat. Holy hell, her muscles were as limp as noodles. “Going to make yourself sick pushing yourself like this.”

  “I like it.” Her voice was muffled as he wound her scarf around her face and tugged her beanie over her hair.

  She leaned against the door as he put on his own coat, scarf and gloves, then he urged her out of the bar and locked up.

  ***

  When he woke, he reached across the mattress before opening his eyes, but he was alone. He sat up as the sunlight streamed through the high uncovered windows in her bedroom. Had the fool gone back to the bar to finish cleaning?

  The room was warm, but he was still reluctant to leave the comfort of the bed. Unusual—he used to be the one who had trouble sleeping.

  He found her in the living room on her couch, wrapped in a blanket as she hunched over the coffee table, notes everywhere.

  “What’s this?” he asked, padding to the kitchen for a cup of coffee.

  “Layout for the arts and crafts festival. I’m trying to mix it up, you know? Pottery next to jewelry next to fabric goods, that kind of thing.”

  “I thought Trinity’s mother was helping with this.”

  “She is, but I couldn’t sleep.”

  He came up behind her, coffee cup in hand, and kissed the top of her head. “I might be able to come up with a remedy for that.”

  She gave him a distracted smile and moved a few more notes around.

  “Lily. Come back to bed with me.”

  “I can’t. I have my period.”

  Well, hell. The
re went that plan. But, “Come let me hold you anyway. I’ve missed you.”

  “You’re the one who wasn’t feeling romantic.”

  “But I am now.” Maybe if she lay down in his arms, she could sleep, let her mind rest. He tugged at the blanket playfully.

  She tugged back, scowling over her shoulder. “Go ahead if you want. I’ll be in later.”

  Somehow he knew she wouldn’t. She was too wrapped up with being in charge, and had no room for him now. Unexpectedly stung, he headed in to shower.

  ***

  The first day of the festival was beautiful, temperatures in the fifties, which made it a bit nippy in the shade, but the sun was shining and glorious, unusual for two weeks before Christmas. Lily was running around enough to keep warm. Trinity had said she would help but wasn’t feeling well. Of course she wasn’t—she was about a million months pregnant and looking ready to burst. She hadn’t seen Quinn all day, but he was probably busy in the bar with the spouses of the crafters, and the people who had come from nearby towns to shop for Christmas. Maybe she’d go in there and take a load off for a bit. She had her cell in her pocket, and all the crafters had her number if they needed her.

  She was heading up the steps when the phone rang. When she looked at the display, it wasn’t an unfamiliar number—it was Trinity.

  “Hey, lazy,” Lily greeted.

  “Do you know where Leo is?” her friend’s panicked voice demanded.

  “No. What? Are you okay?”

  “My water broke. God, what a mess. I need Leo, please, Lily. He’s not answering his phone.”

  “Right. Got it. I’m going into Quinn’s now. Maybe he’s in there and just can’t hear—” She shoved open the door and discovered how likely that was. The place was overflowing, voices filling the room, bouncing off the bare wood walls. Beth maneuvered through the crowd with her tray held high. Quinn busted ass behind the bar, and there was Leo, helping him. Shoving her way through the crowd with murmured apologies, she pressed through to the bar, to the protests of some waiting customers.

  “Leo! Leo!” She had to shout his name a couple of times to get his attention. When he looked up, she shoved her phone at him, display first.

  He paled, snatched it, and pressed his other palm to his ear so he could hear. He was moving from behind the bar before Trinity could finish talking.

  “Hey!” Quinn shouted. “Where do you think you’re going?”

  “My wife’s having a baby!” Leo retorted, waving Lily’s phone over his head.

  A cheer erupted from the crowd, and Leo bowed before heading out the door.

  Lily started after him to wish him luck and retrieve her phone, but Quinn yelled at her.

  “Get back here! I need you to replace him.”

  “I can’t. I have the festival.”

  “Then get me another body here. The reverend, Dale, John, anybody. I’m swamped.”

  She nodded and darted through the crowd after Leo. She caught him just as he was getting into his truck.

  “What is it, Lily?” he asked, exasperated as he stopped in the middle of trying to close his door.

  “I need my phone.”

  He looked at the device in his hand for a moment as if he’d never seen it before, then nodded and handed it over. Impulsively, she leaned in and hugged him. She wished she could be going with him to the hospital in Beaudin, to wait while her best friend gave birth, but it just wasn’t possible.

  “Good luck,” she said, and backed away to watch him pull out of the parking lot.

  Then she called Dale.

  ***

  “Any word?” Quinn asked Lily when she collapsed on a barstool. The crowd had died down at long last, and he hoped he had enough supplies to last through tomorrow. He’d had no idea the festival would be so successful. The last hour of business had been Bluestone folks marveling at how busy they had been today waiting on out-of-towners.

  “About Trinity? No. I’d love to drive over to Beaudin and be there tonight, but I’d kill myself when I fell asleep at the wheel.”

  “It’s not really our place to be there now,” he said, sliding a glass of Coke in front of her. “This is their family time. We’ll go tomorrow night.”

  He was right, of course.

  “Did you eat?”

  “I had a corn dog, I think, around noon.”

  He looked pointedly at the neon beer clock above his head. It was closing in on midnight. “I’ll get you something.”

  “Just a sandwich,” she said. “I don’t think I can stay awake long enough for you to cook anything.”

  “Lily.” He covered her hand with his. “You have to slow down and delegate. There are plenty of people in town who are willing to help, now that they know what a success this can be.”

  “I’m not good at delegating.”

  “Because you like to be in control.”

  “It works out better that way.”

  “Not for you.”

  “I don’t want to fight, Quinn.” She rested her head on the bar and closed her eyes.

  “Right. I’ll get that sandwich.”

  When he brought it out, she forced herself to raise her head and barely managed to eat it.

  “Okay, bar’s closed, everyone out,” Quinn called.

  The stragglers looked up in surprise, so he repeated the announcement. With grumbling and scraping of chairs, the last of them left. He rounded the bar and scooped Lily into his arms.

  “What are you doing?” she demanded, her eyes popping open.

  “Getting you into bed. I’ll clean this up in the morning.” Which meant he had to get up really early or skip church. The place was in bad shape.

  “I’ll help you,” she murmured, resting her head against his shoulder.

  “Shut up.” He carried her down the stairs and across the gravel parking lot to his house.

  “I can walk,” she said when his steps slowed.

  “I’ve got you.”

  “You’ve got me,” she repeated sleepily, nestling her head against his neck. “I want to take a shower. I can’t sleep if I don’t shower first.”

  “Fine. But I’m going in with you. Can’t have you falling face-first. God knows Bluestone couldn’t survive without you.”

  She lifted her head to frown at him as he shoved open the door and edged her in, not setting her down until he was outside the bathroom.

  “You want me to get your clothes off?”

  “You used to be really good at that.”

  “It hasn’t been that long,” he said with a grunt, unbuttoning her flannel shirt, then peeling off her thermal one, revealing a bra he hadn’t seen before, plain cotton. Okay, maybe it had been that long.

  She leaned against the wall and tried to help him with her jeans, and he had to crouch to unlace her boots. He was surprised to see, when he stripped off her socks, that her toenails were painted.

  “Christ, you’re adorable,” he said, straightening and turning her into the bathroom. He reached past her to turn on the water, then straightened and stripped off his own clothes, and guided her under the spray.

  She hummed in appreciation and turned to burrow her head under his chin, her hands curled against his chest.

  “Is this going to do it for you, or do you have to wash your hair and stuff?” he asked, doing everything he could to keep his body under control. The last thing she needed was a horny man.

  “Just a minute. Then I’ll wash my hair.”

  She eased back and turned away from him, angling her head under the spray. He watched her wet her hair, lather it with his shampoo—nothing turned him on more than smelling his shampoo in her hair—then rinse. He handed her a washcloth and let himself enjoy watching her bathe, never mind that standing out of the spray was a bit chilly. It still didn’t have an effect on his body’s reaction, especially when she lowered her gaze to let him know she knew.

  “I’m not shaving my legs tonight,” she said, straightening wearily. “Okay with you?”

 
“I’ll keep my distance,” he said, reaching past her to shut off the water.

  She looked at him a moment as if she couldn’t figure out if he was joking or not. He passed her a towel and she wrapped it around her hair, then he passed her another. His laundry had been smaller lately and now he realized why. She needed two towels every shower.

  “I’ll get my sweats for you to sleep in,” he said, needing the chill to snap some sense into his body.

  “Flannel sheets?” she asked hopefully.

  “Yep.” It hadn’t been that long since she’d slept over.

  She was dry when he returned with his smallest pair of sweats, and amended his earliest thought. The sexiest thing was seeing her in his clothes. In his bed. She tied her hair back and shuffled sleepily toward the bed, and curled up on what he’d come to think of as her side. She blinked up at him.

  “Getting dressed?”

  He crossed to get a pair of flannel pants out of his drawer and a thermal shirt, dressed and slid in beside her. He stroked her hair back from her face, watched her eyes drift closed, then reached over and turned off the lights.

  ***

  The day had been terribly long, one problem on top of another, and she’d been going since six. But now all the crafters had dismantled their booths and were tucked away. She’d helped Quinn clean up the bar, though he’d protested, then gone back out to the festival. She’d gotten in a call to Leo to make sure everything had gone well with Trinity, and he’d been over-the-moon proud of his baby boy. As tired as Lily was, she wanted to go meet him.

  “Ready to go?” Quinn asked when she walked into the bar.

  “Go?”

  “To see Trinity’s baby. You want to go, right?”

  That he knew her so well should make her happy, but it only made her sad. She didn’t want to reason out why. Maybe it was just that she was tired.

  “Yes. I’d like to go.” She was hungry, though.

  “I’ll get you some food in Beaudin. More choices there anyway.”

  “You’re scary with the mind-reading tonight, Quinn.”

  He grinned, said something to Beth and guided Lily out to his car.