by T. S. Joyce
Rubbing her hands over the swell, she smiled. The first few months had been hard with all of the nausea, but that had ebbed of late. She’d always been rail thin and flat chested, but now she had new curves. Her breasts were fuller, and the flattering shape of her figure was something she shouldn’t hide anymore. She was pregnant. So what? Everyone in town already knew, and she was plenty old enough to be a mother. And Dr. Jansen was right. She had a job and a safe place to live. Why should she hide away for the rest of the pregnancy?
Pulling a pink scarf around her neck with matching mittens and toboggan, she laced up her snow boots and threw her jacket over the crook of her arm. Usually, she pulled her hair back when she worked, but today was for fun. She rarely shopped, and even if it was for something necessary, it would still be an adventure to travel to Homer. Her long tresses lifted in the breeze outside as she locked her door. Normally, she wouldn’t bother, but Erin barging into her house uninvited had made her uncomfortable. Sure, she was probably on some ritzy weekend boning that jerk she’d driven in with and not thinking about robbing Farrah’s eight shirts out from under her, but still. Better to be safe than sorry.
“Wow, Fennel,” Aanon said as she approached the truck. He was in the middle of strapping a car seat into the back. “You look different.”
“It’s the make-up,” she muttered, tossing her jacket into the front seat.
He stood to his full, imposing height and raked a steady gaze over her body. It was as good as a touch from the way her insides got that drunken feeling only four shots and three sheets to the wind used to get her.
“No,” he said. “That’s not it.”
A charge filled the air between them, and her gaze, damn her gaze, slipped to his lips. He’d shaved, and even though he stoically watched her, the faint imprint of his laugh lines etched his cheeks. His throat moved, Adam’s apple pulling down as he swallowed, and for a moment, she wished she could ignore everything that had happened in the last two days. Wished she could just lose herself in a touch she knew he wouldn’t give, even if she pleaded.
It would have to be her to break the moment. He wasn’t pulling away, and the longer they went on like this, drinking each other in, the harder it was to break the connection that pulled her unintentionally closer. He wore a deep blue sweater and a white undershirt peaked out from his collar. Every breath he took pushed his chiseled chest against the fabric of his shirt. With no hat to cover his hair, not even the clouds could shield the sun from spiriting light off the many shades of blond. And with fashionable jeans over heavy snow boots, he didn’t look like he belonged out on this untamed patch of wilderness. He belonged on the pages of some magazine that advertised fancy cologne.
Erin had been right. Farrah wasn’t on the same planet as Aanon, much less the same league.
A wrinkle of worry creased his brow. “You look sad. What’s wrong?”
“I am,” she quipped, but as she opened her mouth to say more, Dodge yelled for his daddy.
The little boy had maneuvered his way into Luna’s doghouse, and the pup had then wiggled in there with him. Now, neither of them seemed able to escape.
She couldn’t help the smile that took her face as Aanon jogged over to rescue them. Ungracefully, she pulled herself into the passenger seat and waited. As Aanon buckled his miniature into the car seat, Dodge hummed and played with the zipper of his jacket, all the while kicking his feet. Leaned over him like Aanon was, it was easy to see how alike their hair color was. Erin had blond hair as well, but it was heavily highlighted and had the lack of sheen that said she’d been coloring it for some time. No, Dodge’s hair was definitely a gift from his father’s side of the genetics.
“You ready?” Aanon asked as he shut the driver’s door beside him.
“As I’ll ever be,” she said, smiling at the little boy in the back seat as they pulled out.
****
Farrah looked so good, it should be illegal. The green sweater she wore made her eyes shine in a color Aanon had only seen in the northern lights, and it clung to the small swell of her stomach in ways he found completely erotic.
This morning was the first time she’d worn clothes that accentuated her figure since he’d met her. And damn was she making it work for her. It helped that she hadn’t put her jacket on, and he sent a little prayer up that it would stay warm enough today that she wouldn’t need it. Her bright pink toboggan, scarf, and mittens only served to make her dark hair look darker and her fair skin look like alabaster. The pink color matched the glossy hue she’d picked for her lips, and for the tenth time since they’d started the drive, he glanced sideways to catch her profile.
What was he doing?
He knew the consequences of Erin’s wrath but couldn’t seem to stop himself this morning when Farrah kept putting him off. Something about the way she could say “no” to him presented a delicious challenge. It made her more mysterious.
And watching her ride a tractor like she’d been doing it for years from the kitchen window this morning? He was going straight to hell for getting a boner from watching a pregnant woman straddle a piece of heavy machinery.
She hadn’t said a word in the past hour of driving, and other than Dodge’s chattered conversation with a rock he’d taken a fancy to this morning, the cab of the truck had been doused in quiet.
She was pissed. He could see it in her rigid posture. She avoided even looking in his direction. He knew, because he’d been watching for the slightest tilt of her head toward him. It wasn’t as if he could blame her. Maybe he should’ve told her earlier, but Dodge and the chaos that had surrounded his relationship with Erin for the past six months was just something he didn’t discuss with anyone. It was too hard to put everything into words, and he’d learned a long time ago to keep personal stuff from airing to the small town full of gossipers.
She wasn’t just some townie, though. And on occasion, he’d even been tempted to let her know his secrets. To really let her in. But there was something terrifying in that. She’d leave sooner or later. When he thought about the future, it didn’t include Farrah sticking around a cattleman’s cabin years down the road. And if he gave in and shared the burdens of his life, she’d obliterate him on her way out.
Still. He glanced sideways at her again in hopes of catching the green of her eyes. He wished he hadn’t given her a reason to be hurt.
“Buddy,” he said, and Dodge looked up from the stone in his grasp.
“What?”
“You want to listen to music?”
In the rearview, he nodded with the little smile that had earned him an extra pancake this morning.
“What do you want to listen to?” Aanon asked. He already knew the answer.
“‘Eight Days A Week,’” Dodge said without hesitation.
It was tradition that they listened to The Beatles anytime they were in the truck. “Eight Days A Week” was the only song Dodge had memorized, and Aanon loved belting it out with him. He’d try and earn Farrah’s forgiveness later. Maybe he’d even tell her some of the reasons why she had to be left in the dark, but for now, he was going to win a smile from her with underhanded techniques.
Because no woman could resist the musical stylings of Dodger Camden Falk.
Chapter Ten
Plucking another pair of stretchy waist jeans from the rack, Farrah hummed the old Beatles song under her breath and smiled. It would likely be stuck in her head for the next six years because Aanon had blasted it several times in a row on the way to Homer. She’d resisted singing with them until the third repeat.
At her pleading, the boys had found something else to do with their time other than stare at her trying to pick the perfect pair of belly-hugging pants. Shopping had always been fun with friends in New York, and it was something she missed. Female companionship wasn’t easy to come by in Cooper Landing. There simply wasn’t that many women to choose from for a girls’ night out.
The maternity store was small, but still, she was able to find
three pairs of jeans and two pairs of black leggings with stretchy panels that would expand as her pregnancy progressed. Better yet, she found a few long, curve-fitting sweaters on a clearance rack and purchased them for seventy-five percent off. Not a bad day’s worth of shopping, seeing as how she’d almost doubled her wardrobe for under a hundred dollars. And when she asked the sales clerk if she could wear one of the dark-wash pair of jeans out of the store after she paid, the elderly woman hadn’t even batted an eyelash before she said yes.
Upon wandering out of the store, Aanon and Dodge were nowhere to be seen, so she ambled slowly up the row of shops. Pausing in front of a tiny store with an eccentrically colorful sign that read Homer Clayworks, she eyed a trio of coffee mugs in the front window. One had a picture of a moose, likely for tourists visiting the region. The next, a blue one, sported a brown bear by a river. It was the third that caught her attention. A wilderness scene had been outlined in dark ink against a green background. The price tag was visible from where she stood.
The clothes had costs much less than she’d anticipated, and the cost of the mug was fair, so she rushed into the store before she could change her mind to make her purchase. On second thought, she bought the three mug set and a gourmet pack of hot chocolate. She had the shopkeeper wrap them in crackling brown paper before setting them in a paper bag for the long ride home.
A bite of chill filled the breeze and, shuddering, she crossed her arms over her chest. Her fitted winter jacket still lay in the front seat of the truck where she’d left it.
“Farrah!” Aanon hailed from across the street.
With a brilliant smile, Dodge beckoned her toward them as his other hand fit snugly into his father’s. When she’d crossed, Aanon twitched his head to an old, two-screen movie tavern.
“Want to catch a show?” he asked.
“Is Dodge old enough to sit through one?”
“We can try. It’s a cartoon, and if we have to leave early, that’s okay.”
“I don’t know.” A movie sounded very date-like, even if it was one about—she studied the movie poster decorating the outside wall—animated aliens. And she sure as anything didn’t need to get anymore caught up in this day with Aanon and his son. This taste of what life could be like was dangerous and shrouded in what could never be.
“I’ll spring for popcorn,” Aanon murmured through a wicked smile.
“Pweeeease,” Dodge pleaded.
Aw, crap. Saying no to one Falk was next to impossible. Under the begging stares of both of them, she’d say yes to just about anything. “Fine, but I’m buying my own ticket. Deal?”
She lifted her empty hand for a shake, but Aanon’s eyes were riveted on something behind her. She turned, but there was only a café with a few patrons enjoying mid-morning coffee at small, metal tables.
“You okay?” she asked, dropping her ignored hand.
The wrinkle of worry in his brow smoothed, and he nodded. “I’m fine. Come on. The show is starting soon, and I want to get Dodge into a seat before the lights turn off.”
“Okay,” she murmured with one last glance at the café. His strong hand splayed her lower back and encouraged her into the theater.
True to his word, Aanon did buy a giant tub of popcorn. She stuck a quarter in a game in the arcade and helped Dodge drive a two dimensional racecar while his daddy stood in line for the concession stand. When they were seated in the very center of the theater, Aanon offered her a bottled water and a heart-stopping smile just as the lights dimmed.
Staring like a lunatic, she didn’t yank her gaze away until the curve had disappeared completely from his lips. They probably tasted like sunshine. Geez, what was wrong with her? She broke the seal of her water cap and doused her throat in the cool liquid. If she weren’t in public, she’d upend the entire bottle over her face and hope it settled her raging hormones.
“Hey,” he whispered, darting a glance behind them and leaning against her ear. “Thanks for hanging out with us today.”
The tickle of his breath against her earlobe was almost enough to crush all restraint. A shudder washed through her as his lips lightly brushed the sensitive edge of her ear, and warmth filled her until she sat the line of pleasure and discomfort.
He drew back slightly. “What was that? Are you cold?”
The heat in her stomach fanned upward until her cheeks burned. “No, I’m not cold. Your lips just felt…sorry.”
The grin that took his lips was nothing short of triumphant. “Felt what?”
“Shhh,” a man hissed from behind them.
Sorry, Aanon mouthed over his shoulder. The knowing smile still lingered, but he faced the screen just as the previews started.
****
That movie had to be the longest one in the history of theater. And it wasn’t even because the animation was bad or the writing subpar. Aanon might have enjoyed it if it weren’t for Farrah’s intoxicating presence. She’d reacted to his nearness before the movie started, and he couldn’t keep his mind from it. She’d been easy to draw a shudder from, and his imagination went wild with the things he could do to affect her.
Dodge had skirted his legs, crawled into her lap mid-way through the movie, and fallen asleep in her arms. Watching her arch her neck to rest her cheek on his head was about the sweetest thing he’d ever encountered. And then there was her hand, resting lightly on Dodge’s knee, practically begging to be held and caressed by Aanon.
The woman undid him.
He wanted to kiss and lick every knuckle in turn and feel the tangle of her fingers in his hair. Every problem he ever had was forgotten in the effort to keep his eyes on the screen when she laughed. Damn, she had a great laugh. Softened so she wouldn’t wake Dodge, but high, unforced, and clear like a bell.
When the credits rolled, he took Dodge from her arms and hoisted him against his shoulder. His breath caught as he offered his hand to help Farrah from the folding seat. He couldn’t help himself. Desperation pushed him to find a reason to touch her. The warmth of her palm against his was more than he’d been prepared for, and he pulled her in before he could change his mind.
She was small, the perfect fit inside his free arm. She tensed, but eventually relaxed against his chest. The other moviegoers had filed out under the exit sign, but here, in the dark of the theater, he was safe to hold her. Slowly, she slid her arms around his waist and pressed her hands against his back, drawing him in. Nothing in the world felt more right than holding her. Nothing in his life had felt more intimate that this moment.
“Go to dinner with me,” he said into her hair. It smelled like exotic flowers, and he inhaled again like it was a drug.
“Aanon,” she warned.
“I don’t care, Farrah. Just for tonight let’s pretend everything isn’t so messed up, okay? Pretend we met before everything got so complicated.”
She pulled back enough to arch her neck and search his eyes. “This is dangerous.”
He rested his forehead against hers and closed his eyes. It was more dangerous than she even knew, but the temptation to forget all the bad for just one night was bigger than both of them. “I’m sorry I lied to you.”
“Aanon, please,” she begged.
Easing back, he rested his head next to hers so only she would hear his regrets. “No. You should hear how sorry I am that I hurt you.” Squeezing her closer as Dodge slept soundly against his shoulder, he sighed. “That part of my life is scary, and it hurts, and I didn’t want to share that with you. I don’t share it with anyone. You’re different though, and my secrets put you in Erin’s path. I can only imagine what she said to you, and I’m sorry for it. She’s—difficult.”
Farrah snorted, and he held back a laugh. Okay, difficult was a colossal understatement when it came to Erin. High maintenance and borderline cruel were more like it, but he wouldn’t speak ill against the mother of his child. “I’ll try not to leave you out of the big stuff while you are living in the cabin, okay?”
She nodded against h
is chest, and he reveled in the feel of the swell of her belly pressed firmly against his hips.
“I’m a train wreck,” she said. “Take me to dinner but keep your hands to yourself. You’re driving me crazy.”
When she admitted the last part, though, it didn’t sound like a bad thing. And as she turned and led the way down the aisle, he couldn’t help but think she really needed to stop coming up with rules. Now, he definitely did not want to keep his hands to himself.
Dodge woke up and rubbed sleepy eyes just as they ducked into Captain Pattie’s Fish House. The sun had set early with the oncoming winter season, casting the night in deep blues, and the restaurant overlooked the serene waters of Kachemak Bay. The seafood diner was busy with the dinner rush, and Aanon led them to a table in the corner by a big window. The smell of shrimp, chowder, clams, and crabs was overlaid with the crisp scent of lemon, and Aanon’s mouth watered like he hadn’t eaten in years. A waiter brought menus and took their drink orders before giving them time to choose a meal.
“What’s good here?” Farrah asked with a slight frown. The menu was extensive.
“Is this your first time here?” Aanon asked, pressing a lid on a cup of apple juice and passing it to Dodge.
“Yeah, and honestly it’s been so long since I’ve had good Alaskan seafood, everything on this menu looks delicious.”
“The sea sampler is good. So is the fettuccini.”
“Aanon Falk, is that you?” an older lady hailed him from two tables down.
“Ms. Gretta?” He turned to Farrah and excused himself. “She used to babysit me when my parents went out on date nights when I was a kid. Do you mind if I go say hi?”