Stranded

by Jessica Frances

  “Okay, you’re not a baby,” I concede as I wipe off the mirror with a towel. “My mother read to me and my brother until I was twelve.” I feel a familiar warmth rush over me from the fond memories of those times.

  Even now, when I pick up a book, I’m overwhelmed with those happy memories. I’m not sure if I would have loved reading if it weren’t for Mom, but I do know that reading will always hold a special place in my heart because of her.

  She leans over the sink and spits before attempting to speak again. “Really?”

  “Yep.” I turn my back on her and the whirlwind of emotions just thinking about this stirs up. I move into her bedroom and stare over her overflowing bookshelf. “And I think she would have never stopped if it had been possible. Unfortunately, she got sick.” I grab a random book. I’ve never heard of most of these stories.

  I walk back into the bathroom, nodding in the direction of the toilet to encourage her to go before she’s tucked into bed.

  River eyes me warily while wiping her mouth on a towel. “Did she die?”

  I stare at her from over the book, not sure how much she knows about death and not wanting to freak her out. With how much of a straight-shooter Rocky is, I doubt he has sugarcoated this issue.

  “Yes.”

  “I’m sorry. That is what you say when someone tells you that, right?”

  “Yep.”

  “My mom is gone, but she didn’t die.”

  “I’m sorry, too.”

  “I wish she was dead,” River states this calmly, moving to the toilet and shutting the door on me.

  I’m not sure what the hell I’m supposed to say to that, or if I should be worried. Is that a normal response from a kid?

  Why the hell did Rocky put me in charge of her? I’m obviously more than clueless about everything.

  Did I seriously say this would be easy?

  “Do you?” I call out, listening to the toilet flush then the door reopening.

  “Yeah.” River continues to speak calmly, moving back into the bathroom to wash her hands. “When I become a judge, I’m going to sentence everyone to death when they leave their family. And if they’re a bully.”

  I smile, even though it’s a sad one. “I think that’s a great idea.”

  “Are you going to marry my dad one day?”

  Choking again, I feel myself turning red. “No, no, definitely not.”

  “Why not? Don’t you like him?”

  I scratch my head, wondering when this turned into an interrogation. “I like him.”

  “I was watching you while you were by the car. I couldn’t see what you were doing, though. Were you kissing?”

  “No!” I answer truthfully, suddenly relieved that Rocky didn’t go for that kiss now.

  “But you’re dating him, right? Mia overheard her mom talking to Talia’s mom, who said she heard from Macy at Macy’s Coffee Gold that you guys are dating.”

  I try to follow the trail but get lost along the way.

  “We’re not dating,” I tell her gently, not sure how she’ll react to this news. I hope she didn’t have her heart set on something that will never happen, but her answer surprises me.

  “I guess that’s good.”

  “Why is that good?” I’m more than a little hurt, even if this conversation is making me feel on edge and uncomfortable.

  “I want brothers and sisters, remember? Two boys can’t make a baby. Mia said you need a girl and a boy.”

  “Well, that is sort of true, but there are ways you can get around it. Two boys or two girls can have babies nowadays,” I explain. I consider saying you don’t even need a partner these days, but I definitely don’t want to be extending this conversation.

  Her eyes light up. “Then I do want you and Daddy to get married! Please? Please?” she begs, holding her hands together in front of her. “I’ll be a flower girl, and I’ll help you decorate, and I swear I’ll be on my best behavior!”

  I groan at the hole I have just dug myself into. “How about I just read you a bedtime story and we forget about this little conversation?”

  “No way. I’ll ask Daddy about it tomorrow. He’ll get a ring and everything. Once, he told me I couldn’t have a pet turtle, but I begged and cried, and then he gave in.”

  I laugh at her optimism. “Wow. So now you have a pet turtle?”

  “I did, but it ran away.”

  “It ran away?” I deadpan, not sure that’s even possible.

  “Well, Daddy said a bird might have gotten it. We had it outside in this pond that Daddy made, but I think it just escaped. You believe that, too, right?”

  “Um …” I mumble, not willing to kill a little girl’s dream that her pet turtle is still alive and living its best life. “Sure! Now, do you like to be tucked in or not?”

  “Tucked in.”

  I do the honors then sit down beside her. She immediately snuggles into my side and warmth rushes over me.

  Her trust in me is overwhelming.

  I’ve never thought about having kids. In fact, if you had asked me a few hours ago, I likely would have been adamantly against it. But the feeling rushing over me right now, and seeing how sweet River is, I could totally see myself being a dad one day.

  “I’ve already read this one,” River says, looking at the book I’ve chosen.

  “But, have you heard it in their proper voices?” I ask, not having read it but seeing a bunch of cute-looking monsters on the cover.

  “Proper voices?” She turns her head to curiously look up at me.

  “Prepare to be amazed.” I crack open the book and begin to read, putting on some absolutely ridiculous voices that I’d be embarrassed if it were anyone else listening.

  River giggles and looks absolutely delighted by my weird retelling.

  Mom used to do this for me when I was younger. Toward the end, I just heard her excitement, but I used to love the voices she did for me.

  It isn’t a long book and, to be honest, it isn’t really that great, but River loves it, and that’s all that matters.

  Her laughter begins to dim by the end, and when I glance down, I notice her eyes are shut and she’s breathing softly.

  I wait a couple of minutes, hoping she’s deep enough in her sleep that I won’t wake her, before I get back to my feet, turning off the lamp by her bed so only a small nightlight glows. Then I freeze when I see a figure at the door lit by the hallway light I left on.

  I can’t make out his face, but I recognize the body.

  Rocky.

  “Sorry, you just missed her,” I say quietly to him, moving out of the room and watching as Rocky shuffles in, leaning over to softly kiss his daughter’s forehead before straightening out her blankets.

  He leaves her door ajar, nodding his head to indicate for me to move. Then he takes me back downstairs and over to the couch.

  He sits down, and I do the same, leaving a cushioned seat between us.

  “How did it go at the hospital?”

  Rocky takes a deep breath, his body sinking into the cushions, his head hitting the back of the couch as he reaches out between us, blindly grabbing air, until he finds the front of my shirt. Then he pulls me over to him, and I’m too stunned to stop what he’s doing.

  “It was a shit day,” he tells me, settling me against his side as he moves his arm around me.

  The most comfortable way to sit is to lean against him, resting my head on his shoulder, and as soon as my head sits in the crook of his neck, he rests his head atop mine.

  “Sorry to hear that,” I manage to squeak out, putting all my attention on not freaking out.

  “I did get to solve all my unsolved cases today, so I guess it wasn’t all that bad. John Troy was able to identify King Sr. as the man who shot him. He did it when John tried to blackmail him, the idiot. He said he knew he had killed his son. King Jr. had told him his father had tried to run him off the road when he came into the bar that night.

  “When we went to King Sr.’s house to arrest h
im, he had some stupid fit and admitted to everything. My deputy was filming his entire tirade. That guy is going down for the rest of his life.”

  “That’s good. I’m glad.”

  “It’s a relief that it’s all over with,” Rocky says with a sigh. “Plus, today also ended pretty well.”

  “It did?”

  “Yeah. Got to come home and listen to you sound absolutely ridiculous as you read my baby a story.”

  I try to pull away, mortification hitting me, but Rocky just tightens his grip, keeping me in place.

  “Also got to hear my baby laugh. Thank you for that. Thank you for taking care of her.”

  I settle back down, accepting that he’s moved past making fun of me, for the moment at least.

  “You’re welcome. I made pasta for dinner. Left a bowl in the fridge for you to warm up if you’re hungry.”

  “Oh, I’m hungry all right,” he mutters, reaching over to hold my chin and lift my head so he can crash his lips over mine.

  This kiss, like all our others, is electric and sends my blood thumping and my heartrate soaring. I almost get lost in it, too. But I’m not too far gone, and so, I put my heart before my dick. Who would have thought it was possible?

  “Wait,” I gasp, pulling back.

  Rocky keeps his arm around me, keeping me against him, but he does let me put some distance between our faces.

  He gazes down at me, his eyes hooded with desire that are beginning to clear.

  “I can’t do this. I can’t do casual sex with you.”

  “I’m not asking for casual. I just want us both to feel good—”

  “And you will, but then, afterward, I’ll be crushed when you throw my clothes at me and ask me to leave.”

  “I did that one time!”

  “Are you saying you won’t demand I leave after we’re done? You want me to stay the night?”

  He opens and closes his mouth a few times, my words and what they mean clearly stealing his voice as he considers what those ramifications will mean for him and River.

  “I can’t do that. I have River and—”

  “I get it. I do. And, even though it means some shitty blue balls, I admire how good of a father you are to her. But I want more. I don’t want to be a secret. I don’t want to have to sneak around.”

  “Things are more complicated for me. I can’t just take a risk and hope you won’t break her heart, not after she had her mother leave her.”

  I sigh, wondering what the hell he thinks love is. “Relationships are never going to be a sure thing. You have to take some risks if you want to get the best rewards.”

  Rocky is quiet, perhaps letting that sink in.

  “I liked coming home to you tonight, Conner. I liked knowing you’d be here. I liked watching you with my girl. I’ve never read her bedtime stories. I never thought to. She’s always been a good reader and usually just reads to herself. She might ask me about a word, but that’s it. But seeing you together, I want that for her.”

  “Then what are you saying?”

  “I’m saying I need more time. I … This isn’t something I thought I could have. And I’m still not convinced I can, but …”

  I shake my head, trying to keep my temper in place. “You want me to wait around while you try to figure shit out? You want me to put my life on hold? For how long? A week? A month? A year?” I hiss, shoving out of his grip to pace in front of him.

  “What do you mean put your life on hold? If you want to leave Midsummer, then I’d rather you did it now than later.”

  “I have a job here.” For now. “But, if a man asks me out, what is my answer?”

  Rocky’s eyes light up in anger. “Whatever the fuck you want it to be.”

  I shake my head in frustration, but deep down, I knew this was how it was always going to be. His talk of “maybe being able to commit in the future” is a step forward, but it’s not enough. Not for me. Not when he’s spent years thinking a certain way. The promise to “think” about it isn’t enough. I need action. And that means we’re at an impasse.

  “I should go. I’ll see myself out.”

  “Conner …” Rocky mumbles, his body heat close enough that I feel him behind me, his breath brushing against my neck. However, he doesn’t say anything more.

  To me, that says it all.

  Grabbing my keys, I keep wondering if Rocky will speak up, if he’ll ask me to stay, if he’ll try to bargain something out of me. But the silence holds.

  Shutting the front door behind me feels a lot like I’m shutting the door for good.

  I take a deep, shaky breath once I’m outside, and then again when I climb into Lemon.

  I’m deeply disappointed that things can’t be different between Rocky and me. Regardless of what has happened between us, I still feel a deep connection with him, and it isn’t only sexual. He’s easy to talk to, he has a way of making me feel important—only if it doesn’t involve his daughter or work—and he seems to excel at keeping me interested.

  I’m not sure I’ll ever meet another Rocky Green.

  That disappointment is also accompanied by a bit of pride.

  In the past, I would have never stood up for myself like I have with Rocky. I would have been walked all over. Hell, I would have likely given in to the request of being casual with Rocky and considered that a win.

  Not this time. This time, I held my ground and put myself first.

  Maybe I am growing up. Or, hell, maybe, like River said, I’m just old. Shit.

  I shake my head at not only this entire day, but also these past few weeks. I guess I did ask for an adventure. What the hell will the rest of my time in Midsummer lead to?

  Entering Love’s cottage, I find it silent. I assume she’s either out doing her reporter thing since today did end up being a rather big news day, or she’s already at the hotel, manning the front desk.

  I consider finding her so we can talk, so she can tell me whether or not I’m being unreasonable. But after letting myself into her place, a deep exhaustion settles over me. I’ll talk to her tomorrow.

  I move over to the counter to find a package addressed to me, as well as a letter.

  The package looks more fun, so I rip into it, not having expected any mail, and my mouth drops somewhere along the ground when I discover a pair of Alexander McQueen Hobnail ankle boots inside.

  With them is a note.

  Have dinner with me next Friday. I’ll pick you up. Wear the shoes. – H.

  Holy shit! I gape again at the shoes, tempted to put them on this very second and maybe never take them off.

  No one has ever given me such an extravagant gift. I mean, these cost thousands of dollars!

  My eyes still glued to the shoes, I distractedly rip open the other letter addressed to me.

  I can’t help thinking that my life here in Midsummer is bound to be complicated and messy. And when I finally tear my eyes off the shoes to see the piece of paper I’ve pulled out of the envelope, I realize how true that thought is. Because I think I just got my first mailed death threat.

  Leave Midsummer, and you won’t need to die.

  I freeze at the awful words, my blood chilling and all thoughts of the wonderful shoes disappearing.

  In the few weeks I’ve been in Midsummer, I’ve had many crazy things happen to me. And now I can add a death threat and a hunky movie star wooing me to the insane collection.

  How the hell am I supposed to handle all this?

  I eye the shoes and the note, figuring that, whatever is to come next, I won’t have to worry about my life here becoming boring.

  In fact, I might long for boring in no time.

  Coming Up Next …

  Separated (In Midsummer #2)

  One jealous sheriff. One pushy Hollywood hunk. One threat. One undeniable attraction. One messy situation. One chance to fix it.

  I’ve guarded my heart the same way that I’ve guarded my hometown of Midsummer—with unwavering compromise and integrity. I’ve never ev
en once been tempted to let my guard down. That is … until I met Conner Sherwood.

  It didn’t matter that I swore off all romantic relationships. Or that I wasn’t interested in opening myself up and likely getting hurt. Like a moth to the flame, I can’t resist him. I can’t stop myself from wanting something I shouldn’t. Even pushing him away didn’t stop me from wanting him. Unfortunately, I’m not the only one who wants Conner. He has caught the eye of a Hollywood heartthrob. How can I compete with that?

  But when Conner starts to receive death threats and an attempt is made on his life, I begin to realize that there is more at stake here than having my heart broken. Conner is in danger being in Midsummer, and whoever is threatening him won’t be satisfied until Conner is no longer breathing.

  What I know for certain is that I won’t stop until I catch the person responsible for harming the man I’m coming to realize that I cannot live without.

  Note to Readers:

  Thank you for taking the time to read Stranded.

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  Thanking you in advance,

  Until next time!

  -Jessica Frances

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