Falling in Love: A Secret Baby Romance (Rockford Falls Romance)

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Falling in Love: A Secret Baby Romance (Rockford Falls Romance) Page 10

by Natasha L. Black


  “I always wanted to come back home. I told you that. This was where I wanted to be.”

  “I thought that was just because you felt like I tied you down.”

  “You should’ve asked me,” she countered. “Of course that was part of my reason. But I love Rockford Falls and I always have. It’s beautiful and peaceful and I want to bring books and information about the outside world to these hills, to my people. What I think is that you couldn’t imagine anyone wanting to come back here if they could get out, and you didn’t think you were good enough to get out of here. So you decided I felt like that too, which I didn’t.”

  I couldn’t deny it.

  “There’s so much world out there, Chel. I didn’t think once you saw it you’d want to settle down here.”

  “I saw the world out there, a lot of it. There was nothing I liked any better than home,” she said. “I always knew what I wanted. You just couldn’t hear me over the noise of whatever you thought I wanted.”

  “I’m listening now,” I said, “and I can tell you I’m glad you came back. Now show me what needs to be carried over here. Got any heavy volumes of Shakespeare or anything I can haul for you?” I said lightly.

  I walked over to the poetry section. The back corner shelves had collapsed at an angle, leaving the books to slide down into a lopsided pile that tumbled out onto the soggy carpet. I squatted down and started gathering the books. She stooped beside me and laid a hand on my back.

  “Thank you for helping me, Drew. It means a lot.” Her voice was soft, intimate. I shut my eyes for a second just letting her nearness and scent wash over me, the tenderness of her voice when she spoke to me, the way it healed me a little. We were saying things that had to be said, clearing the air little by little. It was a slow process, unpacking everything that went wrong between us, but she was worth it. She was worth having my sins shown to me one by one. She leaned in and kissed my cheek, her soft lips on the stubble that grew at my jawline. My breath caught.

  I turned my head slightly toward her and brushed my lips to hers. Michelle’s lips clung to mine as I kissed her gently, slowly, coaxing her to open for me and to draw my tongue into her mouth. My body shifted toward her, dropping books and kneeling on wet carpet to gather her in my arms. The curve and dip of her body molded against my chest and her arms went around my neck. The kiss was unhurried and playful, her fingers twisting in my hair. I gave her a deep stroke of my tongue and she moaned that soft, sweet sound I knew so well, a sound that lived in my blood all those years.

  When we broke off the kiss, she smiled at me, cheeks pink and lips reddened, “You sure know how to kiss, Drew Casey,” she said.

  “I like kissing you,” I said simply, “Always have. Since that first Fourth of July.”

  “I remember,” she said. “And I remember sneaking back here with you and making out.”

  “Making out with you in semi-public places was my favorite extracurricular in high school,” I said with a grin.

  “You would have lettered in that sport,” she said, “it might not be as popular as football, but you were a total star at it.”

  “If I’d played football I couldn’t have spent all my time with you.”

  “Oh, it was time well spent. I bet all those guys that could kick a field goal couldn’t find… crucial spots you were good at locating,” she teased.

  “You mean like the time I made you come right here against this wall, rubbing you through your shorts?”

  “I could’ve killed you. I almost screamed,” she laughed, shaking her head.

  “You could’ve killed me because we would’ve been caught or because we went to third base in the library?”

  “Both, but it didn’t stop me from meeting you here again. I bet I swore I wrote more papers for high school English than anyone ever has.”

  “You got all your homework turned in, valedictorian. My seduction didn’t keep you from making straight A’s.”

  “I did all right,” she said, getting to her feet and gathering books.

  We worked another hour before she decided to quit for the evening. When I asked if I could take her to get something to eat, she turned me down and said she was tired. We didn’t talk about the fact we’d slept together the day before, or that all these feelings—God! I couldn’t be the only one affected by suddenly having her back in my life. She had to feel something, even if it wasn’t as strong as what I did.

  I couldn’t be sure where her head was at, but with all the stress over the storm damage at the library, I knew she didn’t need to be pressured. I’d be a patient man. I was happy because we’d spent time together, teasing and kissing and passing notes. Things might be moving forward with Michelle and me, and I wanted that. I just hoped she wanted it too.

  19

  Michelle

  I pulled up at Nicole’s house with a bottle of wine, ready to see my friends. The week had been long and eventful and confusing. I was long overdue to catch up with my girls.

  When I knocked on the door, Trixie and her little boy Ashton answered. He squealed and handed me a monster truck he was holding.

  “Hi, buddy!” I said, picking him up and giving him kisses. He wriggled away and ran off.

  “He’s here till Damon’s off at the station in about half an hour,” she said, taking the wine. “And I see you brought my favorite.”

  “Damn right I did,” I said. “And your boots are in my car, all cleaned up.”

  “You can hang on to them as long as you need them. It’s not like we’re going to jump in any puddles around here in summer.”

  “Right, like that storm didn’t make puddles?”

  “The ditches out by our place were overflowing and part of our yard was under. I wouldn’t even let Ash play outside. I had to watch sooo much Bluey this week,” she said. “It’s a good show, but I need this wine for real.”

  “It’s been a week,” I said with a sigh.

  “Nic’s bathing Coop. He got yogurt all over himself and her at supper.”

  “Tell her it’s like getting a facial. A yogurt skin treatment,” I said.

  We went to the kitchen and opened the wine. I poured us each a glass.

  On the couch, we settled in with our wine while Ashton rolled his trucks up our legs and across our laps.

  “Toddlers have no sense of personal space,” she said.

  “How’s the flower shop?”

  “Doing amazing. I found a local supplier that’s growing roses and peonies and stuff about two hours from here. Great quality and I can save money on freight.”

  “I know you like to use local goods when you can. It’s good for the area. I’ll have to stop in and get some flowers for when the library reopens. I hate keeping it closed when the kids’ section and part of fiction are fine, but it’s nasty and smells wet.”

  “Right. But we miss storytime and crafts. We’ll be back as soon as you restart it.”

  “It’ll be a few weeks,” I said.

  “How are you handling all this? You didn’t have much time to talk the other night.”

  “I’ve been overwhelmed,” I said.

  Nicole came in with Cooper on her hip and hugged me with one arm. She shifted him to my lap. I sniffed his sweet baby lotion smell and snuggled him. When she came back with a bottle, she took him and sat in the recliner, rocking him. I leaned my head on my arm and watched her with him. She was so happy, it just glowed on her face. And the way she bent her head to kiss his curls as she rocked and fed him squeezed my heart. Trixie got on the floor to get a truck that Ashton had rolled too far under the couch. I watched my friends with their babies and felt a pang about what it would be like to be a mom. I’d put the idea out of my head for so long. I hadn’t found anyone I wanted to have a family with in all these years.

  I hadn’t wanted to be a judge’s wife, with a future of campaigns and benefits and shepherding the Boden and Lilly Pulitzer-clad offspring through formal events and hissing at them to behave and keep their hands to themselves
. He had been a nice man, but not the one for me. And I knew he would not have a sense of humor if our hypothetical kid picked its nose in public or something. That was the closest I’d come to being with anyone seriously as an adult. I’d been slowly giving up the expectation of raising a family of my own. Little by little I’d let go of the idea, with some grief. I’d been a lonely only child growing up and wished for siblings, wished my mom were alive, wished for more than my stern father and a housekeeper rattling around in a big, expensive house alone.

  Now, I felt a spark of almost irrational hope. If things with Drew actually worked out this time—I felt like I could have what I was always supposed to get. A life with him. His babies. A home we shared, a bed we shared, watching our kids play in the yard on a swing set. I must have zoned out into my daydream because Nicole asked what was on my mind.

  “Something happened the night of the storm,” I said. I hesitated to tell them.

  Just then, Noah came in and collected a sleeping Cooper and took him to the nursery. Then Trixie’s phone beeped with a message that Damon was on his way. I decided to wait until Ashton went home for the night before I told them what went on with me when the storm was battering Rockford Falls. I munched a piece of pizza from the box in the kitchen and waited.

  Once Ashton was kissed good night and bundled into Damon’s truck with all his toys and his diaper bag, we were on our own.

  “Okay, spill,” Trixie prompted.

  “I closed the library when the storm was coming. I was getting ready to go down the basement when Drew showed up on my porch wanting to talk to me.”

  “Ooooh!” Nicole said. “I like this story. Did he kiss you again?”

  “He more than kissed me,” I said wryly.

  “You did not!” Trixie hissed, drinking her wine.

  “Oh, we did. Twice. In the basement.”

  “Details!” Nicole said.

  “Well, his clothes got soaked so I put them in the dryer for him and he was just in a towel…” I began. I couldn’t suppress a grin. “We were arguing about what he told me the other night, how he decided I deserved better so he dumped me. I told him how I cried and how miserable I was when he broke my heart, and I said something about how he was probably with another girl as soon as he left me and he just grabbed me and kissed me.”

  “Damn. That’s good,” Trixie said, fanning herself. “And then what?”

  “You know what,” I said.

  “No. We don’t know. Spell it out in very descriptive words,” Nicole teased.

  “We had sex on the couch.”

  “And?”

  “And it was even better than I remembered, okay? I told myself all this time that I just overdramatized our connection and how good the sex was and everything because I was young and it had been a long time since then… well, I was wrong. It was every bit as perfect and intense and mind-blowing as I remembered. Plus, then he said ‘tell me what you want, tell me your fantasy, I’ll do anything,’” I confessed.

  “Oh. My. God. I am going to tell Noah he has to say that to me,” Nicole said. “That’s really hot.”

  “Do not tell anyone anything about this! Ever!” I said. “This is a secret. It can’t happen again. It was—the storm.”

  “Weird, how that’s because of the storm. I was in the same storm at my house changing poopy diapers,” Nicole said sarcastically.

  “I was at the flower shop. The power went out. It got hot in there. I worried about the flowers in the cooler. Not sexy. No one offered to act out my every fantasy,” Trixie said wryly.

  “Fine, I get the point. I had a very enjoyable storm.”

  “Damon said he was with you at the library.”

  “Your husband is nosy. Yes, he’s been dropping by and helping me assess the books for damage and make notes about which ones are ruined and which need to be replaced.”

  “Ah, just doing his civic duty then,” Trixie teased, “because an auto mechanic who worked all day is cleaning up wet books for fun. One of his hobbies, right?”

  “He’s helping me out. We didn’t talk much. Just a little.”

  “Did you do other things though?” Nicole asked.

  “No. We just worked and made notes. We’ve been talking a little bit since the storm, but nothing serious.”

  “I think it’s great,” Trixie said. “As the person here who has known you the longest—quit sticking your tongue out at me, Nic—I’m all for this. I’m happy for you.”

  “I’m happy for me too,” I said hesitantly. “But part of me is still afraid to jump right in after all this time. We’re different people now. A lot of time has passed. We were kids when we were together.”

  “You can get to know each other now as adults,” Nicole said. “Get to know each other biblically,” she teased.

  “They already have,” Trixie argued. “Did you not catch the part about them doing it on the couch and then him acting out her fantasies? By the way, what was the fantasy you asked him to act out? Don’t tell me you passed up an offer like that.”

  “I didn’t pass up the offer, but that’s not something I’m going to tell you, I said.

  “I’m betting French maid outfit and she had him spank her,” Nicole said straight-faced. We all laughed.

  “No!” I choked out.

  “Whatever you say. You naughty, naughty maid,” Trixie laughed.

  “Stop it!” I said, laughing.

  “Whatever it was, I just want you to be happy and follow your heart. Sometimes, like with Noah and me, your heart just won’t listen to reason. You just go with it,” Nic said.

  “She’s right. Do what makes you happy. We’re here for you. And I for one am definitely here for stories about fantasies you act out with him. Especially since my current fantasy involves six hours of uninterrupted sleep,” Trixie said.

  We clinked our glasses and toasted to following our hearts and also getting some sleep.

  20

  Drew

  Things were good, better than good. Things were excellent. It felt like Michelle and I were in a bubble of happiness, insulated from the outside world. We talked on the phone and texted all the time. I stopped by the library after work every day to check on things and see if she needed any help. I stood there, her fingers reaching for mine, and listened to her talk about the progress on the roof, the drywall repairs, and the new carpet.

  Twice we met for lunch at the diner. We’d eat and catch up. After eighteen years apart, we suddenly couldn’t go three or four hours without checking in with each other. I’d be elbow deep under the hood of a pickup and hear my phone ping. John laughed because he timed me and said once I made a whole minute and a half without stopping in the middle of a job to wash my hands and check my phone. It would be a message from Michelle with a picture of some weird book title she found while going through the piles of debris or a meme about wine or baby Yoda, which was a thing she liked. I had made it my mission to find things that made her laugh, that helped buoy her through the struggle at work.

  Insurance had covered all of the structural repairs, but some of the contents wasn’t covered under replacement value, namely a lot of the books. While carpet and computers were installed brand new, Michelle and I had spent hours looking on used book broker websites for certain titles that she needed at a more reasonable price. With help from Rachel and her mad pie-baking skills, we held a fundraiser at the farmer’s market. Nicole got us permission from the city council to hold it there and let us use two booths for free. We had a bake sale and also sold resin pour cutting boards that Max had made and a couple sets of shelves Noah built, as well as grab and go bouquets from Trixie’s flower shop. Altogether, we raised enough money from the people shopping the farmer’s market for Michelle to replace the books she needed and the ability to add a few new titles as well.

  And if I convinced her to make an Amazon wish list and post it to the library’s social media feed mainly so I could get her some of the books she wanted, that was my ulterior motive. I snappe
d up the newest romance titles first, knowing that those were her favorites. I used to tease her in high school about carting around Julia Quinn and Rachel Gibson in paperback. I know that Trixie had suggested more than once that she should just read them on her phone and keep it secret. She had loudly pronounced she wasn’t ashamed to love romance novels and that the story of two (or three) people finding love, fulfillment and happiness was nothing to be judgmental about. I loved that brashness in her and how she stood up for what she believed. So when I carted a bunch of new romances from Mariana Zapata and Courtney Milan and Helen Hoang all the others she was crazy about who she’d name-checked in front of me, I was happy because I knew she’d be thrilled to see them.

  I invited her over to my house for dinner, ready to show her the surprise I had ordered for her. Michelle came over with a bottle of wine, something better than the screw-top grocery store wine we used to drink when we were teenagers. She was wearing skinny jeans and a silky looking top in bright yellow that looked great on her. Her blond hair was sun streaked and summery on her bare shoulders.

  “Come on in, beautiful,” I said. “Dinner will be ready in about fifteen minutes.”

  “Anything I can do to help?”

  “You can sit down and have a drink. I can open the wine or there’s beer and Coke in the fridge.”

  “No root beer?” she teased.

  “I learned my lesson. You’re not the same girl you were, and I don’t need to stock A&W for you to drink.”

  “Is there Diet Coke?”

  “Maaaybe,” I teased.

  “Did you buy Diet Coke because I mentioned it?”

  “No. Of course not. Don’t I look like I’m a diet soda drinker?” I joked.

  “Yeah. Nothing screams manly man like working on cars, shoulders two ax handles across and a can of Diet Coke,” she said.

  “Ax handles?”

  “It’s a romance novel thing. I got a delivery of romance novels today at the library. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. I’m just doing my part to support my local library and bring happy endings to the people of Rockford Falls,” I said lightly.

 

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