Behold the Stars

by Fanetti, Susan

  But God, it made perfect sense, once she’d finally let him in and told him. They’d sat on the faded runner in the upstairs hall for hours on Christmas morning, and he’d learned that his wife had been drowning in a mental hell. After what she’d been through, what they’d done to her, how could she believe that everything was okay? They’d torn her up. She’d confronted death—hers and the baby’s—and come to terms with it, sure neither could survive. And the world she’d come back to was materially changed, in large part because she had survived—more than that, she had prevailed. No wonder it felt unreal.

  Jesus, she sucked at communicating. She was great at fighting, and at intuiting. She was even great at talking. She knew just what to say to help him, and just when he needed it. But her shit, the things that scared her or made her feel weak—no. She shoved it to the side until it spilled over onto everything else. It had taken him too long, but on Christmas morning, he’d come to understand that he’d always need to manage that, be vigilant about drawing her out. If he pushed right, he could get her to talk. Help her, the way she helped him. But this was all new to him, too.

  Every little milestone—hearing the baby’s heartbeat for the first time, a few days after Christmas; the day her jeans stopped closing; the day she finally felt a flutter of movement inside her—improved her handhold on belief. After hearing the heartbeat, she’d let him go back to working on the room, but she wouldn’t come up to see, and she wouldn’t give him any input about the decisions he was making. The day she’d felt movement was the first day she’d stepped back over the threshold. Still, though, she hadn’t participated.

  Tasha had suggested he buy a device that would let her hear the heartbeat at home, whenever she wanted, once she got a little farther along. She listened to that fucker several times a day, her hand on the growing mound of her belly. It had helped, become like a talisman, keeping her grounded. But still she resisted making any plans—at least not for the baby. She’d hurled herself into plans for the town and for her work, but couldn’t yet think about their family. That had to change. He was beginning to feel like he was the one who had it wrong.

  He hoped it would be today. This scan, when they could both see they were looking at an actual child inside her, a child with a strong, steady heart, squirming and sucking its little fingers as they watched—this had to be the proof she needed to believe. His own heart was about to break his ribs. His child. His child. Please, Sport. There. Right there. We’re okay.

  She wanted to know the sex. Good. They hadn’t even talked about it, but he did, too. No surprises. She needed to know everything she could know.

  The technician raised her eyebrows. “You’re sure?”

  “Yes!” Maybe that was a little too much like a yell, but Isaac was on edge, and Lilli had already answered the fucking question.

  The technician—she’d said her name, but Isaac didn’t give a fuck—flinched a little at the sharpness of his tone, but she recovered her smile quickly. “Okay.” She moved the scanner on Lilli’s round little belly, like half of a basketball. With her other hand, she moved a cursor on the screen. “That’s a perfect shot, see? Bottom, legs, umbilical cord. And right here…nothing. We have us a baby girl.”

  A girl. Holy fuck. A little girl. The technician typed something, and it came up over the image. Isaac didn’t know what she’d typed. He was barely seeing anything in front of him. No more “it.” She. His daughter.

  “Really? Are you sure?” He turned and focused at the sound of Lilli’s voice.

  “She obviously wanted you to know. Sometimes babies get shy, and it’s hard to tell, but she put her little garden right out there for us to see.” What’s-her-name laughed. “Better watch out for this one, Daddy.”

  Isaac thought this bitch could do with a punch in the jaw. She’d just called his little girl a slut. He glared, and maybe growled a little. Again the technician flinched, and this time her smile faded entirely. She hit a couple more keys, and a copy of the image on the screen came out of the machine. She handed it to Lilli, at the same time handing her tissues with which to wipe up. She pushed the machine to the side and left the room.

  The words on the picture read, Baby Girl Lunden.

  Lilli wiped her belly and then sat up. She looked as dazed as Isaac felt.

  “Sport? How you doing?”

  Her eyes met his, and Isaac searched their beautiful grey depths for an indication of how she felt. His chest felt full with happiness and worry. “Lilli?”

  “She was sucking her thumb.” A whisper. She’d used the feminine pronouns, though—that had to be a good sign.

  Isaac nodded. “I saw.”

  “My dad’s name was Johnny. In Italian, that’s G-I-A-N-N-I.”

  He knew that. Not following her train of thought, but not wanting to get in her way, he nodded again. “Yeah.”

  “She’s Gia. I want to call her Gia. For my dad.”

  That feeling in his chest—it had to be his heart exploding. “Baby, that’s beautiful. Really beautiful. Gia Accardo Lunden? What do you think?”

  Lilli—his beautiful wife, his scarred warrior woman—nodded and began to weep. Isaac stood and folded her into his arms, tucking her close to his chest, under his chin. “Baby, baby. It’s okay. Right? We’re okay?” He felt her nod against his heart.

  ~oOo~

  Approaching the rise to Will Keller’s place about a week later, the sun low on an early spring evening, Isaac felt a pang of nostalgia. Time was, cresting this rise meant a spectacular view of the Keller’s big, bright white farmhouse and long, burnished red barn; the fields, the woods, the animals grazing sedately; the wide, glittering sweep of the quartz gravel drive. Then Ellis had burnt it all down, and for awhile there was nothing but charred earth where that expanse of natural folk art had stood for more than a century. Every visit during those dark days had chipped away pieces of Isaac’s love for this place, this town.

  But that had been months ago, and the town had not been idle. As they’d come together to keep the town on its feet during the hard years, and they’d come together to fight off Ellis and his hired thugs, so had they come together to undo the damage he’d done—as much as they could. Bart’s idea for the Kickstarter had brought in some serious cash. Main Street, nearly destroyed in that shootout, was rebuilt and nearly ready for its Grand Reopening. It looked better than it had in years—bright paint, gleaming windows, new wooden walkways. They’d freshened up the little grassy block that was their town park. All that was left now were some interior finishes on the shops and stocking new inventory. And then people to buy it.

  And there was this: Keller Acres. Lilli’s grand plan. Isaac crested the rise and grinned. He pulled up and sat at the top, astride his bike, taking in the new vista. The valley was teeming with people. The fields were being sown. Fences were being rebuilt. And in the middle of it all, where the Keller house had stood proudly, a big, beautiful white clapboard house, not much different from the one that had been lost, but with a wide, wrap-around porch, was being installed on its new foundation.

  “Installed,” because it was a modular building, delivered in pre-built chunks. Once Lilli had gotten it in her head what she wanted to do—and it was a great idea—she hadn’t wanted to take the time to have a house built on site. So she’d found a modular model and, when she was satisfied that she wasn’t erecting some half-assed excuse for a building, she’d put everything in motion. That had only been a few weeks ago. Now, workers were about done with the installation.

  Lilli had built the Keller Acres Bed and Breakfast. Her idea was to use the public interest in Signal Bend to make it a destination. As remote as it was from the highway, she thought people would be more likely to come if they had a place to stay and make a weekend of it. The Keller place, so picturesque, was the perfect location.

  She’d offered the farmland to the Brown brothers and Steve Bohler—all of whom had starting cooking after losing their own family farms. Now, with the meth business closed, they
were going back to their roots, splitting the acreage here. Lilli was asking only for a small percentage of their profits from their yield in return. She’d sat down with Show and run some figures, estimating enough of a percentage to break even.

  The next phase of the plan was a horse barn, where Will’s barn had stood. She wanted to fill it with rescue horses, for guests to ride. There were good riding trails in the adjacent woods. She was making arrangements with a rescue organization for the horses, but the barn had to happen first, and she’d been thwarted on that score, unhappy with any of the modular versions she’d found. She had a clear idea what the barn should look like.

  Isaac knew a solution, but he hadn’t told her yet. He had it in his head that he would surprise her. He’d better get to it, though, before she figured out her own solution. She didn’t know shit about running a hotel or taking care of horses, or building barns, or any of the things she’d undertaken, but she’d researched endlessly, reading online, and hounding Show and Vic, and Don Keyes, who owned the farm implement shop. She was fucking brilliant, and Isaac figured by the time the place opened in the summer, she’d be a pro.

  He could see her standing down there on the lawn, talking to a guy in a hardhat. When she turned and walked away, the guy crossed his arms over his chest and cocked his head. Isaac knew that stance. Bastard was checking out his woman’s ass. Lilli’s ass was so perfect it was like…poetry. Since her belly had started to grow, she’d also put on a hint of extra curve in her hips, improving on perfection. It was a sight to bring a man to his knees. But only he got to get a look like that. He stopped his woolgathering and got his bike moving, roaring down the drive. He was gratified to see that hardhat bastard jump at the roar of Isaac’s engine and turn back to work.

  ~oOo~

  That night, after supper and chores, the usual activities of a quiet country night, Isaac and Lilli sat in the living room, on the same, ancient couch, and watched To Have and Have Not, Lilli’s favorite movie. When he’d sat, he’d pulled her onto his lap, and she’d settled in, her legs stretched across the cushions and her head tucked against his neck. He had his arms around her, a hand tucked into her yoga pants and resting on her belly. Sometimes, when she asked, he thought he could feel something, but he hadn’t felt anything strong enough to be sure. Maybe wishful thinking. But he loved the sweet swell of her belly anyway.

  Sometimes it was hard to be this close to her. No—it was always hard to be this close to her. As long as he’d known her, her very proximity had been an aphrodisiac. Her smell, her sound, everything about her got to him deep. At a cellular level. They hadn’t had sex since the morning she’d been taken—months ago. She was carrying his child and more sexy to him in that state than ever before. But she wasn’t ready, and he’d sooner cut his dick off than push her. He had only so much mastery over his body, though. Tonight, watching Bacall tell Bogey how to whistle, with Lilli so warm and calm in his lap, her hair loose over his arm, her fingers twirling absently in his hair where it lay against his neck, her gorgeous ass resting on his crotch, Isaac thought he’d lose his mind. He fought off the erection as long as he could, knowing she’d get up as soon as she felt him. He thought of anything and everything but her and his need. He tried, at least. But she surrounded him. He felt immersed in her. Immersed in her.

  And that thought did him in. His cock shot painfully to fullness, and he eased his hold on her, taking his hand out of her pants so she could get up as quickly as she needed to.

  But she didn’t get up. He knew when she felt him, because she stiffened and shifted, and he expected her to slide off his lap to sit next to him. Instead, though, she tipped her head on his shoulder and pressed her lips to his neck, her hand spreading out over his jaw. He groaned.

  “Lilli, baby—I’m having a little trouble right now. I need a minute.”

  She didn’t answer or move. Then he felt her tongue on his neck. He jerked back and took her face in his hands.

  “Not cool, Sport.”

  Her eyes were wide and serious, regarding him steadily. “Isaac. I want…to try.”

  That quickly, his pulse was thundering in his ears. But she had to be sure. He had to be sure she was sure. He didn’t know how he’d cope if they lost ground because they’d gone this way before she was ready. “You sure? Don’t do it for me. I’m okay.”

  She smiled. God, he loved her. “I’m not. I miss you.”

  “Fuck, baby, I miss you so much.” The words came out in a rush, and he wanted them back as soon as they were gone, but he hadn’t freaked her out. Her smile grew, and she scooted off his lap to stand in front of him, holding out her hand. The rings he’d given her sparkled in the light of the television.

  “Slow, though. Okay? Sweet?”

  He took her hand and brought it to his lips. “So slow. So sweet. Only what you want. Only as much as you want. Talk to me, though, okay? Don’t try to deal.”

  “Okay. Come on.” She pulled on his hand, and he stood, letting her lead him into their bedroom.

  When they got to the bedroom, he pulled her back and took her into his arms. At first, he held her, finding some calm and focus in the quiet touch. His heart was fucking hammering against his ribs. It was excitement, yes—definitely—but it was anxiety, too. The thought that this could traumatize her, or even actually hurt her, weighed heavily. But there was also the thought that they could have back that part of them—or have something similar but new.

  Their couplings had often been intense, even adversarial, in the past. It had been what they’d both preferred, Lilli most of all. What would happen tonight wouldn’t be anything like that. In fact, Isaac couldn’t imagine ever being rough with her again, even if she wanted him to. He couldn’t imagine her wanting it, either. Not after everything.

  Tonight, to every extent that she’d let him, he would love her. Worship her. Make her feel safe and loved and desired. Make her remember what had been good. Make her really want it. Give her the pleasure she’d lost. His throat thickened at the thought, and he set her back a little so he could look down into her eyes. She smiled up at him, but he could see her nervousness. Leaning down to brush his lips over her mouth, letting his beard graze back and forth over the silk of her lips, he whispered, “You tell me what you need. You tell me, Lilli. Promise.”

  She nodded, coming up on her tiptoes and looping her arms around his neck, but he pulled back and shook his head. He needed to hear the words.

  “Promise. Say it.”

  “I promise. I’ll tell you. I need you to take me to bed.”

  Grinning, he swept her up into his arms and carried her across the room. He laid her down in the middle of their bed and stretched out next to her, propped on his elbow. For so many months, even kisses had been rare—lately, he thought, more because she didn’t want to get him stirred up than because she didn’t enjoy the kissing itself. He wanted to make up for some lost time, and he wanted to take this very, very slowly. So, his hand on her rounded belly, over her pants, he bent down and kissed her, sucking on her full lower lip, brushing his beard over her chin and cheeks, until she moaned and pushed her tongue into his mouth.

  Then he moved his hand to her face—Christ, he was shaking—and held her close, kissing her more deeply, letting his tongue explore her mouth, remember it. Her arms came up on his back, hooking over his shoulders. She felt so good in his arms, being in this moment with him.

  They kissed like that for long minutes. Isaac felt almost afraid to do more—already they were closer than they’d been in all the time since that day. When Lilli’s hand left him and pushed between them, he had a moment of perfect despair, thinking that she was done, they’d gone too far. But she reached for the hem of her t-shirt and pulled it up over her head, tossing it to the floor next to the bed. Her bra followed it. Then she went for the buttons on his shirt.

  He’d seen her body during these months. She’d only been shy about that the first couple of weeks, and then she’d dressed and undressed in front of him as be
fore. Since Reno, they often slept nude together. At first, after the shyness had passed, she still been reluctant, not wanting to be unfair to him, but he’d told her—and it was true—that he’d rather be able to see and touch her than not, even if it was all they could do. He’d needed that closeness so he could feel that she was with him.

  So he’d seen her body, touched it, but now—this was worlds away from that. When his buttons were open, and she pushed his shirt off his shoulders, he tossed it to the floor on the other side, and then he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her tightly to him. He needed to feel her bare chest against his, her breasts—growing recently, her nipples darkening—on his skin. He felt her nipples harden, and he groaned. Laying her back down, he put his hand on her shoulder, his eyes intent on hers, and stroked a long, gentle path down her arm and back up, then over her shoulder to the ridge of her collarbone, then down. He paused with the heel of his hand resting at the point where her breast began to swell.

  “Tell me, baby.”

  She took a breath and let it out. Isaac heard the shake in it, but she nodded. “Yes. Please.”

  He moved his hand down, over her taut nipple, to cup her breast in his palm. He brushed his thumb over her nipple, just lightly, and rejoiced inside when she arched up a little, and her eyes fluttered closed.

  Still teasing gently at her nipple, he leaned in and pressed his mouth to her neck, sucking at the pulse point there. Her pulse skittered against his tongue, but her hands clung to him, and he kept going, drawing his tongue down the same path over her chest that his hand had taken. When he got to her breast, he stopped and looked up. Her eyes were closed. She looked a little tense.

  “Lilli? Tell me.”

  She opened her eyes and smiled a tiny smile, one corner lifting. “Yes.”