by L. C. Morgan
“It’s not fair, ya know?” Sucking in a sharp breath, I held back all the hateful things I wanted to say, like how it should have been me having a baby, that she should have been in my shoes, and that she didn’t deserve it, because who was I? Who was I to decide? It wasn’t like I had it in me to wish such a tragedy on anyone anyway. The last thing I would want was for anyone to experience what I had just gone through, what we had just gone through. I wouldn’t have wished that kind of suffering on anybody, nobody, not ever.
The beams of the balcony creaked below my feet, alerting me to the slow approach of heavy boots. I closed my eyes, letting the tears spill over just as two warm arms wrapped securely around my waist. Resting against his shoulder, my back melded with his chest, my head instinctively turning into the underside of his jaw. Every part of me was insistent that I kiss him, take him and forget this ever happened. It was tempting me to let the physical aspect of our relationship jump in and start the healing process as I always had let it before. It was instinct, trained and encouraged. My body had been conditioned to react this way. So much so that it almost hurt to fight it. It literally pained me to try and talk about my feelings in place of tying them up in a tangle of emotionally stunted lips and limbs.
It was revolting against me, my own body.
Peeking down at his hands, I avoided my impulses by scratching off dried specks of paint from his fingers. His innocent touches comforted as well as they could, but I still felt the need, the urge, how it balled up inside of me, sitting in the center of my chest. My throat felt sticky and full, making it hard to swallow and even harder to breathe. The words were right there, their concern hot on the tip of my tongue. If only I could just say them.
“What do you think of forgiveness?” I asked. It wasn’t what I had meant to ask, but at least it was something. It hung in the sky with the stars, shimmering stagnant and bright until he shrugged against me, resting his chin on my shoulder.
“It’s a choice, I guess.”
His thoughtful murmur caused one to develop inside of my heart. I could feel it vibrating through the bones in my chest, hear it swishing against the drums of my ears. Leaning further back into him I tipped my head up to look at his profile, his expression shadowed in darkness from the thick branches of the trees.
He made it sound so easy, as if I really wanted to forgive Julie and Mark, then I simply could, just like that. I wasn’t so sure.
“Is it really?”
“For most.”
“But for you? Is it that way for you?” I asked, growing more and more impatient with his ambiguous answers. I wanted to know what he really thought and why it was he felt that way. I wanted to know what made it so damn easy for him to just choose to forgive Mona and Meg and all the wrong they both did to him. Did he even make that choice? Had he forgiven them?
“For me? No.”
My stomach bottomed out when he loosened his hold from around my waist and stepped back. I was afraid I’d lost him until he braced his palms on the railing on either side of me and pressed a lingering kiss to the back of my head.
“I have no choice.”
Light puffs of breath heated me through my hair. I fought the urge to close my eyes and lean back into his warmth, turning to face him instead. What did he mean he had no choice?
“What do you mean?”
My hands settled on the flannel sleeves covering his forearms.
“I don’t blame Mona for hating me.” I could feel the strain of his muscles, how they moved under the fabric, jumping when his fingers dug into the railing on either side of me. “I let her think I broke it off with Meg.”
Bending to scratch his bearded chin on his shoulder, he pushed off the banister and turned away from me.
“I already felt like a worthless piece of shit, so why not let her treat me like one, ya know? It was easier. Easier than … Fuck.”
Reaching out to touch him, I dropped my hand back down to my side, wanting to comfort, but unsure if I should. He wasn’t necessarily acting like he wanted to be touched, however if memory served, that was the time when I always seemed to need it the most.
“The last thing I needed was her seein’ me weaker than I already was. I didn’t want her sympathy. The anger, the resentment …” Turning back out to face the woods, he leaned against the balcony, his elbows digging into the wood as he roughly ran his hands over his hair. “It was just easier.”
Hesitantly, I pushed off the banister and crept up behind him, reaching out to touch his back. He didn’t stiffen like I had expected him to; if anything, he relaxed more as I slowly rubbed him up and down, stepping closer to sneak my arms around his waist from behind. I rested my cheek against him, tightening my grip when his hand closed over my forearm, his callused palm sliding across my skin.
I should have been content with what he’d shared. It should have been enough, but it wasn’t.
“What about Meg? You didn’t have a choice with her either?”
His soothing movements ceased, but he didn’t let go of me, his fingers wrapping lightly around my arm.
“I wasn’t even really considering Meg, but yeah, her too.”
His back pressed into my cheek with his deep inhale.
“I don’t blame her for leaving,” he said, lazily swiping his thumb back and forth across my skin. “She didn’t love me. I know that. Knew that long before I even left the last time. Shit, that’s why I left the last time.” He shook his head. “Fuckin’ stupid.
“It would have been fucked up if she stayed with me out of guilt. My attitude didn’t help much either. I didn’t want her touching me just as much as she didn’t want to.” His grip tightened before it loosened, his fingers softly stroking up and down my forearm again.
“You’re the first woman I’ve wanted to touch in a long time, Laney.”
My belly fluttered at the sound of my own name. Him telling me he wanted me was almost as tangible a gesture as his touch.
“Went about it all wrong, too. I was an ass.”
Squeezing him tighter around the middle, I wanted to tell him he wasn’t an ass—not a major one anyway.
“I probably should have talked to you about what I wanted, not just taken it. I’m sorry about that.”
“I’m not.” I wouldn’t have changed anything about us, except maybe having this conversation a little sooner. But hell, maybe we weren’t ready for it then, maybe it was supposed to happen this way. It wasn’t like it mattered. I didn’t care how we met, what he did, or what he didn’t do for that matter. As long as he was here with me now, that was all I cared about.
“You’re a good man, Joe, whether you can see it or not. Besides”—running my hand over the flannel covering his stomach, I rested my palm on the center of his chest—“it wasn’t like I tried to stop it. I wanted you, too,” I quietly confessed, pressing a kiss into his spine. “I wanted you to touch me. I always want you to touch me, all the time.” It was killing me that he couldn’t. “You’ve taken better care of me than anyone ever has and I wouldn’t change a thing, not one thing, except …”
Squeezing my eyes shut, I loosened my grip, backing up slightly when he let me go. Things were getting too real way too fast. I wasn’t ready for the rest of this conversation, the ugly reality of it.
Turning to go back inside, I stopped when he reached out and wrapped his fingers around my wrist. He looked so casual and unconcerned—textbook Joe—as he leaned back against the railing and pulled me closer to straddle his crossed legs.
“Except?” Reaching out with his other hand, he played with the ends of my hair. “Tell me.”
The weathered indentation between his brows deepened, his green eyes prettier than I’d ever seen them, glistening in the porch light’s glow. My stomach dropped to my feet and I swallowed down the rising bile, so afraid to ask, beyond terrified to even consider his answer. What if it was the wrong one?
Looking away, I licked my chapped lips, trying to think of the best way to word my concern, bu
t there really was no way other than straightforward, so straightforward it was.
“What if it turns out I can’t have kids?” I asked, unable to look him in the eye until he finally gave me an answer.
“Then we can’t.”
My head snapped up, eyes narrowing on his just as I caught the last of his shrug.
Then we can’t? Seriously?
“That’s it? It’s that easy for you?”
“I didn’t say that, no.”
“Then what are you saying? You don’t want them? You don’t care? What?”
Tracing a calming circle around my racing pulse, he pulled me closer, inching my legs forward as he straightened his to stand up tall. Bending his neck, he looked down over me.
“What I’m saying is, if we can have kids, great. If we can’t, fine.” Cradling my jaw, he attempted to keep my eyes trained on his. “I want you either way. Not being with you isn’t a choice either.”
Melting into a puddle of goo, my cheek molded into his palm, my knees giving out slightly with his sweet confession. It was comforting knowing he felt that way—the same way, that there was no other option. It left me content, my eyes fluttering closed as his fingers crept to the back of my neck. I dug my own fingers into the soft fabric of his flannel and the hard muscle underneath it as he pulled me flush against him. Quiet and sure, he just held me close, tightening his hold around my middle when I slid my arms around his waist. I pressed a lingering kiss into the center of his chest, the grumbling of his stomach reminding me I hadn’t eaten either.
“Hungry?” I smiled against him, peeking up when he shook his head.
“Wasn’t me.”
The echoing snap of a twig made us both whip our heads in the direction of the lake. I stiffened in Joe’s arms as a monstrous black ball of fur emerged from the woods, its snout to the ground as it rummaged the dirt and dead leaves.
“Holy shit. Shouldn’t they be sleeping or something?” Stepping out of his hold, I moved closer to the railing. My fingers dug into the smooth wood and I watched in rapture as the big black bear foraged, his heavy puffs of breath shooting clouds of dust into the cool evening air. My eyes widened when it rose to its hind legs to fruitlessly chew on a barren branch. I swear the balcony shook when he dropped back down on all fours with a huff.
“Should be,” Joe said, stepping up behind me to slide his arms underneath mine. Pressing his lips to the back of my head, he spoke into my hair. “But it is bearly November.”
His throaty snicker warmed the backside of my head and my mouth dropped open to spread into a painfully large smile.
Did this man seriously just make a joke? A completely lame, but at the same time incredibly cute joke?
Shoulders shaking, I silently laughed, sucking in a really attractive snort. I couldn’t believe it, a joke. Of all things.
Heat flourished inside of my chest as the irritated animal released a low growl, silencing me as it lifted to its hind legs once more. It startled me straight, the back of my head bumping into Joe’s nose when it released a hoarse roar. They grew in volume the closer the bear lumbered, taking several heavy steps toward us with his oversized paws.
“Welp.” Stepping back, Joe slid his arms from under mine, tugging me along with him. “Looks like we’re sleepin’ here tonight.”
“What? Why?”
“‘Cause my gun’s in the back of the truck and only one of us can outrun him.”
***
I stirred sometime in the middle of the night to Joe’s soft snores and the vivid recollection of the bear in the woods. He was all I could think about: if he actually was a he, if he ever found something to eat, and if he was still out there.
Rolling to my side I pushed myself up to sit before climbing to my feet. I worked the cricks out of my neck on the walk over to the French doors, being careful not to let the lock click as I cautiously twisted the handle.
The wind hit my bare legs and I shivered, the mixture of excitement and frosty air thrilling me to the bone. I could still hear him out there, tromping around in the woods, his distant growls echoing off the trunks of the trees.
Never in my life had I seen something so majestic, so surreal. I couldn’t recall ever wanting to, couldn’t believe that I had. I couldn’t fathom not knowing you could want something that bad.
The dank fall air left me feeling alert and philosophical in its crispness, leading me to ponder how Joe was a lot like that bear in a way, how he snuck up on me, giving me this gift I never knew I wanted, never knew I needed, not until I actually had it.
With another shiver I padded across the balcony and back inside the house. My toes squished into the plush carpet and I was assaulted with the lingering smell of cedar, Joe’s own personal scent. He was still snoring soundly, lying on his side, one arm tucked under his head.
I looked him over from the ends of his hair all the way down to his socked feet, my eyes paying special attention to things so easily dismissed and unappreciated, like the set stains in his clothes and on his skin. And I felt beyond love. Felt beyond what the heart could feel and saw beyond what the eyes could see. He was so much more than something to look at, his lips parting between the gruff of his growing beard as I lowered myself to the floor and cuddled up beside him. I placed a kiss on his open mouth, snuggling close when he softly groaned then subconsciously wrapped an arm around me, warming up my toes with his.
***
I woke again the next morning to a set of sleepy green eyes and the hot sun on my back.
“Morning.”
It was the first time in a long time I could remember waking up beside him, the first time he ever casually greeted me, too.
“Morning.”
The rough pads of his fingers ran up the outside of my leg to sweep under the frayed hem of my shorts. They teased my hip, too soon traveling back down to the back of my knee.
“I want you,” he said, his voice thick with sleep and restraint.
My belly fluttered with the sound. I swallowed in fear and anticipation—fear for having to remind him he couldn’t have me, and anticipation because I desperately wanted him, too.
My heart sped as he slightly parted my thighs and placed my bent knee over his hip. My eyes fluttered closed as those same callused fingers slowly roamed up the back of my thigh and he dipped the tips just under the edge of my panties, pressing his hard want into my stomach. The lingering soreness between my legs only added to the achy throb deep inside.
Placing my hand against his shoulder, I pushed him onto his back, rolling on top of him to straddle his hips. He fingered the ends of my hair when it cascaded over one shoulder, the fingers of his other hand digging into the flesh of my thigh. I braced my hands on his chest and pressed into the hardened length pulsating between my legs before I bent forward to press my lips to his.
I tempted him to open with the tip of my tongue, quietly gasping into his mouth when he suddenly sat up, effortlessly flipping our position and me onto my back only to pull away. He hovered just above where I wanted him most, grabbing my wrist when I went for the hem of his shirt.
“Can’t.” The crease in his forehead deepened when I fought his hold.
“But I want to.” Reaching down to palm him with my other hand, I gave him a light squeeze over his jeans. “I thought you wanted me.”
Pushing back into my offer, he released a throaty groan before pulling away completely.
“I do want you. I always do, but I'd never hurt you.” He swore with his eyes, his words holding so much more meaning with the way he stressed them.
“Just you then. Let me make you feel good.”
“You do make me feel good.” Breaking his gaze, he scratched his beard against his shoulder. “I can wait.”
Every part of me wanted to argue as he climbed off of me and rose to his feet, no doubt in as much or possibly even more pain than I was.
Stretching my neck, I pressed the back of my head into the cushy carpet to watch him slip on his shoes. My hungry ey
es followed him as he walked back over and offered his hand. I reached out and took it, letting out a surprised yip when he yanked me to my feet and swept me up into his arms to carry me all the way through and out of the house.
Once the cool air hit my bare legs I tightened my grip around his neck, scanning our surroundings for the beast of a beautiful animal that had been traipsing through the woods at all hours of the night.
“You’re not worried about the bear?” I asked, my wide eyes landing on his amused profile.
“Nah.” Rounding the back of the truck he clicked open the passenger’s side door to set me inside. I held my breath, my sight bouncing from him to the surrounding woods as he made his way across the front, taking his sweet ass time. I was finally able to breathe again when his door slammed shut and he was buckled in beside me, his warm hand settling onto its perch on my thigh.
The ride home was quiet. I was thoughtful, staring out the window while picking at the paint chips still clinging to his fingers.
I considered all he said, and all the things he didn’t say that I assumed were implied. Given the situation his forgiveness wasn’t a choice, but it was for me. All I had to do was choose.
Well, easier said than done.
I wasn’t sure how ready I was when we pulled up and I saw Julie sitting on the porch outside my house.
“You need me to stay?”
Shaking my head, I offered him a halfhearted smile and he cut the engine, pulling the keys out of the ignition to take one off the ring. “It’s to the cabin,” he explained, placing it in my hand. Leaning across the seat to give him a kiss, I fisted the jagged metal into my palm.
“Love you,” I breathed against his lips, surprising myself with the words but liking the way they tasted. My heart skipped a beat when he breathed them back against mine.
“Love you, too.”
They wrapped around me like a security blanket, and I reluctantly climbed out of the truck. I stepped back as he pulled out and then headed toward the house once he was out of sight.
Taking the stairs, I passed right by her, leaving the door open for her to follow … or not. It didn’t really matter to me either way.