by Quinn, Taryn
Sincerely,
Cabin Fortress
Three
Murphy
Dear Cabin Fortress:
Your name intrigues me, as does your kind offer. But I was the one who put my post in the wrong group, so I will take the heat. I’m a cuppa half full kind of girl, so maybe it’ll widen my net—so to speak—to more prospective baby daddies. Like, say, yourself. Though you said you guess I could count you in. Have you had time to decide if you’re still lukewarm about it or have you moved to hot?
Yours,
Vee
I’d only read her note eleven times.
Yours, Vee.
Fuck.
I didn’t know how to answer her. I’d wanted her to be mine for so damn long even seeing it written to me teasingly had put me in a funk all damn morning. I’d been waiting for an answer for what felt like forever and now I was frozen like a deer on the damn highway. So stupid.
I swiped my forearm across my sweaty brow. Crescent Cove was enjoying an unseasonably warm September. Even the nights were still hot as hell. It was as if August had decided to sit on our little lake town and stay awhile.
And I was dying.
“Moose, are you fading on me?”
“Nah. I’m fine.” I took a long swig from my water bottle and wished I hadn’t read the forecast before leaving this morning. Then again, I’d been watching my phone like a damn maniac, hoping I’d get a reply from a certain someone. Everything after that had been frying me from the inside out anyway.
Add in the fact that the freaking weatherman lied. It was not going to be breezy and cool. And my thermal shirt was not meant for this level of heat.
Everything sucked.
Something soft hit me in the back of the head. “Dude, you’re killing me just looking at you.”
I turned to find a tank shirt on the grass at my feet. “I’m not wearing your shirt.”
Lucky stood with his big-ass booted foot propped up on the stack of lumber we were cutting. He guzzled down a beer, making sure he was giving a maximum show for the young mom inside who had been plastered to the window since we got here. “It’s clean. I had it in my bag for the gym later. You need it more than I do. Besides, the ladies don’t mind when I strip down for my workouts.”
“You strip down to breathe,” I muttered and picked up the shirt.
“Was that a crack out of you?” Instead of being insulted, Lucky tipped his head back and howled out a laugh. “Didn’t know you had it in you, choir boy.”
I sighed and swapped my soaked through shirt for the tank. At least it was black. “Piss off.”
“Saucy.” Lucky winked at me. “Good for you. And now you don’t look like you’re going to keel over.” He tossed me a beer and I caught it against my chest. At least I hadn’t dropped it. “Now if you’d drink that, maybe you’d loosen up a little.”
“Leave him alone, Luck.”
I didn’t need Gideon to handle him. I wasn’t a stuck up type or a choir boy. If he saw the murder and mayhem I designed for games, he’d think twice about the church comments. In fact, I’d just sold my fourth Zombie Chasers game to one of the biggest video game outlets in the country.
And it was twisted as fuck.
Because that was how normal people got their aggressions out. Not by stripping for every woman to stare at them in a five-mile radius. Lucky was barely twenty-four, but he was massive and had enough testosterone for three guys. I might have lost a lot of the computer geek softness of my college and grad school days, but I’d never be the guy taking selfies of their abs.
Ever.
Kind of like Lucky did through his lunch break to get people to hire him as a personal trainer.
If my girl wanted to see me without a shirt in dim light, then well…that would be okay. If I had a girl. Maybe.
Someone like Vee.
I was officially pathetic.
I’d stopped by the café after work yesterday and it had been mobbed. Everyone had been buzzing about Vee and her post on The Cove, our town Facebook group. Wondering what a nice girl like her wanted with a child out of wedlock. Crescent Cove still had a lot of old school people living there.
Others joking about how they’d love to take her up on the offer.
Still others with a far darker level of discussion.
Before I punched someone dead in the face for talking about her like that, I’d had to leave.
And now I had her note burning a hole in my pocket.
I’d had nightmares that she wouldn’t reply then there it was. Sweet and cute with a side of flirty. Totally Veronica.
Except it felt even more flirty.
Would she still be that way if she knew it was me?
Lucky came over and snatched the beer. “If you’re not going to drink it, I’m taking it back.”
“I didn’t want it in the first place. It’s not even noon.”
“Speaking of, it’s your day to pick up lunches over at the café.” Lucky waggled his eyebrows. “Make sure you let that hot mama barista know you’re single and ready to mingle.” He cracked open the can and tipped it back. “Nothing better than going bareback in a sweet, willing girl.”
I shoved him back a good foot. “Don’t fucking talk about her like that.”
Lucky flipped his hair back and tucked his can into his pocket. “Well, then. You got the hots for the little baker? She’s aching for a baby daddy.”
“It’s not like that.”
He rubbed one of his pecs. “Not what your little shove said. I’ll give you a pass because I saw how many bees were swarming around her honey pot.”
I curled my fingers into fists.
“Now, now, Moose, I’ll give you one pass,” he took the beer out of his front pocket, “but only one.” He lifted one long finger with a wink, then took a long gulp from the can and finished it before crunching the can and tossing it into our recycle bin. “Man up,” he said over his shoulder and sauntered over to the paver cutter, put his glasses on, and flicked the switch on the wet blade.
Christ, the heat must be getting to me.
Or the fact that I had wanted Vee for so long I couldn’t even breathe around it. And now the whole damn town was looking at her like she was a big ole ice cream cone and it was ninety-seven-degrees and one hundred percent humidity. Oh, and couldn’t forget the talking about her like they were longing for a bite.
I stalked away from the pile of lumber I was supposed to be measuring and pulled out my phone. My fingers flew over the keys before I could stop myself. Anger and frustration leaked into my words, but I was working on too much adrenaline.
And the thought of her messages overflowing with other men.
Men that could replace me so easily.
“Just go over there, for God’s sake.”
My back straightened at Gideon’s voice.
“I don’t know what you’ve been waiting for, but now’s definitely not the time to be a pussy.”
I swung around to face my oldest friend in town. “Oh, and are you manning up about Macy?”
Gideon stuffed his hands in his front pockets. “Little different there.”
“I don’t see how.”
Gideon rocked back on his heels. “I have a whole different set of problems. You? Not so much. Both of you are unencumbered, both young, and Vee’s all about being serious no matter what she says in that ad on The Cove. You? Dude, you were born to be attached to a woman and with a family.”
“She wants one part of a man—and not necessarily mine.” I rubbed the back of my neck. “She doesn’t know I’m alive.”
“Because you don’t speak.”
He wasn’t wrong. Every time I tried to open my damn mouth, I went absolutely brain dead. I have three different Master’s degrees, but speaking to this one woman was beyond me.
“Go get our lunches and talk to her.” Gideon shook his head when I tried to open my mouth to argue. “Charge it to the company and just go. The natives are getting restless.”
“I’m your fairy fucking godmother. Go get your princess, you idiot. Oh, and ask Macy for a bunch of those caffeine smoothie things she’s doing. I’m fucking addicted.”
I trudged back to my truck. My pocket exploded with text orders from people on the team. Word got around fast and no one wanted to miss out on café food. Unfortunately, none of the notifications included a reply from Vee.
Our current job was only a few streets over from Main Street so it was a quick drive. Summer and Fall were Gideon’s busiest seasons, then it would be me snowed in up at my cabin for most of the winter. I held off most of my big projects until then.
Like impregnating a particular baker?
Ugh.
I had to park down the damn street because, as usual, Brewed Awakening was hopping. As I passed people enjoying the unusually sunny day, I heard more comments about Vee. Didn’t people have other shit to talk about?
Okay, so not everyone was, but it felt like it. And I should have stopped at my damn house to get a real shirt. Lucky was my size, but he liked to wear his shirts a size smaller to show off his freaking body.
I, however, did not.
Maybe I should have put my sweaty thermal back on.
Maybe I should just make a phone order and come in the back entrance? Fuck.
“Murphy.”
I turned toward the breathless voice. Only one person called me Murphy. Not even my mama did. My cheeks burned as I looked down at Vee. “Hey, Veronica.”
Her eyes drilled into my chest and down to my belt buckle before traveling up to my neck. Instead of looking at my face, she swallowed and took another slow perusal past my buckle this time.
“Wow. I didn’t realize all that was under your clothes.”
I crossed my arms. Fucking Lucky. Way too damn tight. She was probably horrified. “I had to borrow a shirt.” I blew out a breath. “Just a hot day at work. Sorry, I don’t usually show off this much of myself.”
Her eyes darted to my face finally. “No, you do not.”
My gaze drifted to my boots. Stupid. Now I was making it a thing. And I was officially a loser trying too hard with a tight shirt on a body that definitely should not be accentuated no matter how much rowing I did on the lake.
“Yeah, sorry. I…”
I want to take you to dinner.
I want to impregnate you.
I want to try as many times as possible.
I want you to see me as more than a customer.
I want everything.
“I need to make a lunch order.”
“Oh.” She tipped her head in that sweet way, where her bottle green eyes sparkled with a touch of some inner joke I was never quite privy to. “Sure, we’ll fix you right up. Sorry, I’m not working the counter right now.” She lifted the empty dishes in her hand. “We’re swamped.”
“Right. That’s okay. I’ll go make an order with Jodi.”
“Okay.” She paused and her dark lashes fluttered down as she stared at my chest one more time before she bustled away. “Oh, have a good day, Murphy.” Her smile was wide and kind.
And I was a chump. “You too.”
I fisted my hands at my sides and stalked to the line. I made my order and my gaze kept seeking her out as she wound her way around tables. She talked to everyone with such ease. Except me. When she was near me, she tried to work with my bumbling conversational skills but invariably, she had to give up.
It was always too busy to stay and deal with the social anxiety king of Crescent Cove.
And I wasn’t always like this. That’s what sucked. My little circle of people, I was fine with. The minute I got within twenty of feet of Vee, I became a freak.
The sharp whistle brought me back into the present.
“Ready to order, hot stuff?” Macy flicked her ponytail behind her shoulder.
I felt the stain on my cheeks again and cursed this damn muscle shirt. I dug out my phone and rattled off the order for me and the rest of the guys. “And put it on Gideon’s tab.”
“You boys are definitely racking up his tab. Who’s drooling over the crew today?” She waggled her eyebrows. “Not like you to show off your guns, Moose.”
I rubbed my arm. “Yeah. Hot one today. We’re over at the Shannon house.”
“More babies. She was in with her son recently.” She shook her head. “Ramping up the baby fever that’s already raging in here. Next it’s going to infect—”
“You?”
“God, no. I was going to say Jodi, but she’s still a child. If she gets it too, then I’m moving out into the middle of the freaking lake. Order up,” Macy shouted over her shoulder and tucked a paper under the overflowing stack. “You tell Gideon he owes me.” She shoved a six-pack of smoothies across the counter.
“Thanks, Macy.”
She jerked her head to the side. “Get out of here, Moose.”
I gave her a half smile and moved to the next line where we waited for our food. The café was a well-oiled machine, even as busy as it was. But I couldn’t concentrate on watching Jodi or one of the three new girls who started working in the café this past week.
No, I couldn’t keep my eyes off Vee.
She was laughing her way through a crowd of guys.
My hands fisted again when I heard an off-color comment. Just because she was making it known she wanted to create a child didn’t mean she had to listen to that junk.
It wasn’t a meat market.
Okay, so maybe she was looking at it like a bit of a market and the meat…
God, now I sounded like the crass idiots cracking jokes at her.
I dug out my phone and still no reply.
Then again, she didn’t really have time to answer a message with this place bursting with people. Then she stopped and took her phone out of her hip pocket. Her eyebrows climbed up and she quickly shoved it back away.
Did she see my note?
Did she hate it?
Was she going to push it into her spam box like more than eighty percent of her emails and messages? Because that wouldn’t shock me.
Tons of perverts and busybodies had replied to her on the public post, so I couldn’t imagine what was said in the privacy of an email or message. And yet at the same time, I didn’t give a crap what anyone else said to her.
I just wanted her to notice me.
And that was as pathetic as me staring at my damn boots instead of talking to her.
My name was called at the end of the counter and I grabbed the huge box full of food and drinks. I needed to escape before I saw her again. She was so beautiful with that golden halo of braids on top of her head with little licks of purple peeking through. Her style made her different from any other woman in the room.
But I had her memorized. I didn’t need to stare her down again. She didn’t need another set of eyes following her every move along with the rest of the town.
I shouldered my way out the door and stalked down the sidewalk to my truck. People avoided me on the street and the usual smiles came with wide eyes as they hurried by me.
She was driving me nuts, and it must be starting to show.
I tucked the box of food on the front seat of my truck and pulled my phone out. Still no answer.
Before I could stop myself, I sent off one more message. I got in and headed back to the job I knew and loved almost as much as my own business. To where numbers and measurements made sense and spring green eyes didn’t confuse the hell out of me.
Four
Vee
Vee,
I’m guessing there are a lot of people vying for your attention at the moment. I’ll be brief and to the point. Be careful. I hate the comments I hear while I’m in town. If you were mine, I’d never treat you that way. What you’re doing for yourself is beautiful and any baby would be lucky to have you as their mother with or without your male counterpart. I’m more than interested if you’re still looking.
Yours if you’ll have me,
Cabin Fortress
The insanity caused by my need for a dollop of sperm in my egg casserole was supposed to die down. I’d figured a day or two, maybe three tops.
It was day four. No stopping yet.
My inbox was still a disaster. I was tempted to ask Jodi or one of the younger café ladies with time on her hands and a sense of humor to do some screening of my messages. I didn’t want to overlook my possible soul mate—I mean, sperm mate—but jeez. A girl had to work for a living and couldn’t weed through salacious emails day and night.
The bright side was that Macy was making tons of cash. The café had even gotten a feature on the local nightly news last night, and though nothing had been specifically mentioned about my procreation practices, the female anchor had been a little too chatty when it came to “Macy’s newsworthy employees.”
My boss had taken me aside afterward to make sure I understood we were still cool and she wasn’t pissed about the recent spotlight on her business. She was still counting those dolla-dolla bills, and hey, if I happened to find a worthwhile sperm candidate, yay me.
I was so grateful to her for dealing with this lapse of judgment, as some in the community had called my post. And not only that, for making the most of an, uh, sticky situation.
Tilting my head, I squeezed more frosting on top of the baby head cookies I’d just baked. I’d let them cool and now it was time to add the little curls of frosting hair on each one. The girls had rainbow squiggles and the boys did too, shaped into a mohawk. No traditional pink and blue here. We were an all-inclusive café. To that end, I’d also made a gender-neutral baby cookie. No identifying characteristics at all on that one except ruddy cheeks and bright brown eyes.
I had another tray of cooling cookies on the rack. Those were shaped like children’s toys. A wagon, a ball, a kind of creepy doll-looking thing that I’d shaped myself and wouldn’t be making again.
At least they’d taste delicious.
Speaking of tasting, I was tasting the flavor of bitter defeat at missing Murphy the last few days.