Shelter Me Home

by T. S. Joyce

  He believed what he said. The fire in his eyes proved it. But she couldn’t help but remember how far Miles’s reach stretched in the city. He was powerful. Much more powerful than Aanon could know.

  She gripped his hand back and tried to smile around the nausea climbing the back of her throat. “Everything will work out.” God, she wished she was half as confident as she sounded. “And besides. As much as I wish it wasn’t so, Miles is this baby’s father. No matter what mistakes he made with me, he still has a right to know. I just wanted to think everything through and get over some of the hurt before I came to a conclusion either way. Would you mind if I borrow your cell phone sometime? I doubt Briney would let me put a call to New York from the bar.”

  “Of course. You can use my phone whenever you want.” He took his first bite of stew and closed his eyes like he was hearing the first note of a long forgotten song. “Jesus, Farrah. This is amazing. Where did you learn to make this?”

  Pride filled her until a bubble of excitement threatened to spill from her mouth. Swallowing before she responded, she said, “I checked out a book from the library that had the recipe in it.”

  “You and that library,” he said before blowing on another steaming spoonful of meat, broth, and carrots.

  “It’s nice to spend time there again. I practically lived there when I was in school. Reading was my escape.”

  “Were things really so bad for you?”

  “I lived,” she said dryly as visions of taking care of Mom for all those years threatened to spill into her mood. Someday she’d tell him everything. She’d let Aanon see everything about her, but not today. Today she wanted to ride the high of his priceless gift that sat ready and waiting by her bed. Talking about the past didn’t make things better. They only brought back memories she’d long since buried.

  “I like you better with dark hair,” he said suddenly, but the flush in his cheeks said he wished he could take the words back.

  Surprised, she dropped her gaze to the bowl in front of her. “I thought blond would’ve been more your type.”

  “Hair color doesn’t make a difference. You’re different, Farrah. In the best ways, you’re different.”

  If her life depended on it, she couldn’t help the smile that took her face. That was absolutely the nicest thing any man had ever said to her.

  “So, I’ve been thinking about what happened yesterday. In the woods.”

  And just like that, her heart sank into a pit of darkness. “Don’t take it back,” she pleaded, unable to meet his gaze.

  “Hey,” he said, tilting her chin with a gentle touch. “I’d never take that back. It was—well, that was the sexiest thing I’ve ever been a part of. I can’t stop thinking about it, honestly. I mean, when I think about you splayed against that tree, the feel of you…it’s to the point of distraction today.”

  A relieved laugh left her lips, and she leaned her cheek against his hand. “I know it can’t happen again, but I don’t regret it either. Even if that’s all I get, it’s better than watching you from across the homestead, wondering what it would feel like for you to touch me.”

  “It won’t always be like this. Erin will move on eventually and tire of the game.”

  She cast her gaze to the bassinet. “I hope you’re right.”

  ****

  Aanon muttered a curse and yanked his oil-covered hand back. Damned snowmobile was going to be a beast to keep running this winter. The smaller one was working fine, but the older, larger vehicle had been begging repairs for three years. With Farrah at the homestead, they’d need both of them running and trustworthy. As much as he’d love to share a sled with her, her stomach was growing by the day, and he didn’t want to run the risk of her falling off the back.

  A slash across his finger wept red, and he staunched it with a semi-clean rag. His hands were covered in grease, and it was nearly dinner time, but he was running out of daylight to repair it. Bad weather was coming soon. He could feel it in his bones, and snow, unrelenting and unforgiving, would wash the last remnants of autumn from his home.

  The sound of the four-wheeler and Luna’s jubilant barking filled the barn, and helpless to his heart, he jogged to help Farrah untie the log she dragged behind the ATV. She didn’t even need his help, which was somehow even more attractive.

  With the tree untied, she unhooked the chainsaw from the front bars of the ATV and frowned at the hand he’d fisted to keep the rag tightly on.

  “What happened?”

  “It’s nothing,” he muttered in irritation at himself. “Just messing with the danged snowmobile.”

  “Oh. Well, let me see it.”

  Reluctantly, he pulled the wrap off and held it out for her inspection.

  “Looks nasty. You should go clean it up before it gets infected. Maybe put a bandage on it.”

  “I will after I cut this wood. It’s getting dark, and I want to turn in before the storm hits.”

  “It smells like snow,” she murmured, brushing a finger along the cut. She didn’t seem squeamish at the sight of blood, and the things he admired about her piled up with every conversation they had.

  “I can cut the wood,” she said. “I’ll just use the chainsaw. This really needs to be cleaned.”

  Gripping the wrap, he dragged her waist closer and offered her a devilish smile. “Clean is overrated.” Before she could react, he wiped the pad of his grease-covered thumb across her cheek, and she stood stock still, a gasp of shock frozen on her face.

  “Aanon Falk, you’ve lost your mind. I dressed up for you today and you’re getting me filthy!” The barest hint of a smile brushed her full lips, and he couldn’t take his eyes off their shape.

  “I did notice you were looking extra sexy today.”

  “Good. That was the entire point of me wearing my best work shirt.” Sarcasm tinted her voice, and he dragged his gaze back to her dancing eyes.

  “Someday, I’m going to take you out somewhere nice, and you can dress up in something other than your best work shirt.”

  “Don’t tease me,” she said.

  “Not a tease. I can’t wait to spend a day in town, just you and me.” He stole a glance at the road to make sure no cars were making their way to the big house and leaned down to brush his lips against hers. She tasted so sweet, he brushed his tongue against the inside of her lip just to better drink her in. The way she melted against him when he touched her brought a shuddering sensation to his insides. She didn’t hide that she was affected by him, and she was entirely too erotic when she made little helpless sounds in the back of her throat.

  Pulling away to rest his forehead against hers, he gave her another wicked smile. “I like how you say my name when you’re frustrated. It makes me want to kiss you until you forget what you’re mad at me for.”

  “I still remember,” she said, voice quaking.

  Her eyes were glazed, and she blinked slower. He wanted to take her into his house and lose himself entirely. He couldn’t’ even remember being this happy.

  “You dirtied my face,” she said with a challenging smile.

  Those lips that had the power to offer a simple smile eased all of his aches, enticing him to stay lost in them forever. Slipping his hands up her neck, he tilted her jaw back with two gentle thumbs and dipped his mouth to hers. Her lips were so soft, yielding to him as they moved against his, and his head swam with his want of her. No, not want. He needed her. If she left now, he’d be broken into a million pieces. Splintered so completely, he’d never be whole again. He hadn’t even noticed how sad and dark his life had become until she entered it like a ray of sunlight that cut straight to his soul. He kissed her harder at the thought of losing her. He wanted all of her. Wanted her to open up about her past, to trust him with her secrets, to know her the way no one else ever had.

  Her hands grew frantic and found their way under his jacket, then under his sweater. Cold fingers found the warmth of his skin, and he hissed as she raked her nails across his back. “Far
rah,” he warned. His control slipped by the second.

  Pulling away with an unapologetic grin, she pecked his cheek and nose, then spun around. “You should really clean that cut, Falk.”

  He staggered forward a step, as if his body couldn’t let go of her warmth. She sauntered toward the chainsaw. If he thought her controlling a tractor was sexy, watching her stick a boot across the wood to steady it, ripping the chainsaw until it revved and cutting confidently into the lumber was just about enough to demolish any lingering self-control he had left.

  He was in it. This was deep in the murky forest of No-Turning-Back-Land, and he’d dived head first and weaponless into it with Farrah. A sudden fear washed over him that she’d leave, and he’d be shattered. It had happened before, and now this iron woman with the vein of delicious vulnerability had the power to destroy him where Erin had failed.

  But watching her care for the homestead and listening to her defend it as paradise affected him in a way no other human being had managed. He trusted her beyond a doubt, and not because love was blind, but because she’d earned it. Because she was worthy of it.

  As he strode for the house with the noise of the chainsaw as a soundtrack to his retreat, he smiled. If he was in it with anyone, Farrah was worth the risk.

  ****

  The first wave of snow hit in the early hours of the morning. When Farrah had awoken, the homestead had changed. No longer was it green and muddy, but now was covered in a white blanket that sparkled in the sunlight. There was something so ethereal about snow that hadn’t been touched. No tire tracks wound through the clearing, no boot prints graced the ivory sweep. Even the forest animals had huddled down against the frigid chill and kept their tracks from the homestead.

  She slipped into her warmest clothes and brought Aanon a cup of coffee, black as he preferred. The snow hadn’t hindered his drive to chop cords of lumber, and he turned at her approach with a slight frown. “Briney called and wants you to come work a double shift today.”

  “Good, I need the money.”

  He took the coffee and sipped a drag. “The weather should hold until tomorrow. That’s when Mother Nature is going to dump a blizzard on us, but still, it worries me that you’re going to town this close to a bad storm.”

  “I’ll be fine. I’ll keep an eye on the weather station at the bar, and if it comes earlier, I’ll leave for home right away,” she promised. If Briney was giving up shifts as often as he had been, she’d be able to provide for her baby in a way she hadn’t considered before. It gave her hope. The life she could give wouldn’t be fancy by any means, but she’d work to make sure her child never lacked anything important. More shifts broadened her list of options.

  “I can’t spare the whole day,” he said, seemingly distracted. Gesturing to her woodpile, only half stocked, he said, “I had enough wood cut for one wood stove this winter, but we’re playing catch up on your stove now. And trust me when I say we won’t want to be going out in blizzard conditions later in winter to try and cut wood. We need to stay on top of it now when we’re able. Besides, you’re going to be out of commission late in the season with the pregnancy. I just don’t want to worry about you being cold out here.”

  “Aanon,” she said gently. “It’s okay. You don’t have to come with me today. Do whatever you need to, and I’ll be back later tonight.”

  Keys jangled as he dug them out of his pocket and tossed them to her. “Take the Chevy, and I’ll feel better about it.”

  His worry was nothing shy of flattering. He wasn’t being stifling or too overprotective. His care for her was showing, and her cheeks heated with pleasure. “Can you call Luna to you when I leave? She always tries to come with me, and I don’t want to tie her up today.”

  “Sure. Hey,” he said, jogging to her and wrapping her up in a warm hug. “Be careful. Call my cell if you need me to come get you.”

  So great was the temptation to remain in his arms, she didn’t move, didn’t breathe for fear of breaking the moment. Sighing, she closed her eyes and relaxed against his chest. His heartbeat was strong and steady beneath her cheek, and she wrapped her arms around his waist. Minutes stretched and, still, he just held her—they just were. The call of winter birds and the play of the dogs were the only sounds besides that of their breathing. The baby fluttered and rolled against the pressure of Aanon’s taut abdomen. She laughed and retreated a step with her hands over the movement.

  Smiling, he dropped his hands under her jacket, and just before his fingertips rested on her stomach, he hesitated. “Does it bother you when I touch you here?” he whispered.

  “No, I don’t mind. When you touch me, I feel safe.”

  His throat moved as he swallowed, the thick cords of muscle contracting as his palm cupped the swell of her stomach. “You’re so beautiful, it hurts to look away sometimes.”

  The baby rotated under his hand, and she brushed her lips against his. “So are you.”

  Nothing in her wanted to leave him, especially when he pulled her closer and deepened the kiss. Minutes drifted by. She stalled longer than she should have, burrowing against him and soaking up his warmth as his lips moved against hers.

  “You’re going to be late,” Aanon said, easing back with a knowing smile.

  With a teasing pout, she nibbled his bottom lip, then headed for his Chevy. Snow crunched under the oversized, chain-covered tires as she pulled away from the homestead. Through the rearview, Aanon leaned on the ax and watched her leave. She waved behind her. He lifted his hand just as she rounded a grove of evergreens.

  The man scared her in the best ways. He wasn’t only beautiful on the outside. Who he was, his soul, was wonderful as well. She’d gained her confidence back in the weeks since her arrival. No longer was she mousey and afraid of the future, but she knew without a shadow of a doubt, everything would work out somehow.

  Aanon complimented her when she learned new things, and was openly grateful when she worked the homestead with him. He didn’t seem to expect anything and treated every menial thing she did as a gift.

  Aanon’s confidence in her made her feel alive again.

  He’d brought them both back to life.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Briney’s was abnormally busy, but Burtlebey Miller, one of the bar’s regulars, assured Farrah it was due to the upcoming storm. “Everyone’s out in full force in case they get snowed in for a few days,” he slurred happily as she poured him another beer.

  Her mood was downright joyous as she served customers and talked up acquaintances. That was the nice thing about living in a small town again. In New York, she rarely saw a face twice. Here, she was starting to get to know the townspeople in a surprisingly pleasant way. That’s not to say everyone was nice. Many a hermit lived up in the mountains above them, and when they ventured to town for libations, a few of them were lacking in the manners of the well socialized, but most of the people she’d met were accepting and friendly toward her.

  The bar was decorated in an atrocious combination of Halloween, Thanksgiving, and Christmas decorations, and when she’d asked Briney about it earlier, he muttered that he was too lazy to decorate more than once a year.

  Ben, Mayva, and Audrey shot pool with some of their friends, and between bartending and making sandwiches in the back, she was too busy to count the hours. The first shift rushed by in a blur, and the second flew by until the door opened and Aanon stood there. Like magnets, their gazes clashed, and a slow simmering smile took his lips. She lived for smiles like those.

  He waved to Ben and the others and made his way to the bar, took a seat, and gave a greeting to Burtlebey.

  As soon as she got a spare moment, she moved to his place at the bar. “Were you worried about me?” she asked teasingly.

  “Yes.” His stoic expression dared her to continue the taunt, but the butterflies in her stomach turned her serious.

  “What’ll you have?” she asked.

  “You going to drive us home?” he asked, his eyebrows a
rched in question.

  Her hands had drifted protectively over her belly, as they did more and more these days. “You know it.”

  “I’ll just have a beer. I don’t feel like drinking tonight but if I don’t nurse something, ol’ Ben over there won’t ever leave off me.”

  “One beer, you got it. Hey,” she said, lowering her voice and leaning over the top. “Guess what?”

  “What?”

  “Briney pulled me in his office before my first shift to talk to me. He wants me to manage the bar and work five days a week. He said he’d give me time off when the baby comes but he’s got his sights set on retiring, and he wants me to help with the transition. He wants me to run the bar for him. I’ll be taking care of inventory, shipments, all of it.” Her grin was so big, her face hurt.

  “Farrah, that’s awesome. It’s what you want?”

  “Yeah,” she admitted. “It really is. I feel like everything is coming together for me here.”

  Nodding his chin toward the small fridge behind her, he said, “Grab a water, we need to toast.”

  She poured herself an orange juice instead and clinked it against his beer bottle.

  “To you running the bar,” he said. His lips parted like he wanted to say more, but Mayva took that moment to stomp her foot beside Aanon and growl out his name.

  “I’ve said your name three times. Are you ignoring me on purpose?” The blond-haired girl stared at their toasting glasses with a slight frown.

  “Why would I ignore you on purpose, Mayva? I just didn’t hear you.”

  “Come on,” she said, gripping his elbow. “Ben wants to play doubles against us, and it’s our turn.”

  “All right, I’m coming.” As he paid for the beer, he brushed Farrah’s hand intimately before he left his seat. His eyes burned with delicious promises, and her stomach clenched at the effect he could have on her body with just a smoldering look. The man was nothing short of delectable.

  No better distraction existed on earth than a pretty blond throwing back shots of tequila and hanging onto Aanon’s arm like a bot fly. Another half hour, and Mayva might as well just crawl into his sweater with him. A sense of satisfaction trilled through her as she watched him try time and time again to detach himself from Mayva’s attentions. And on two occasions, he looked back at Farrah with a face nothing short of comical. She stifled a laugh when he mouthed the words help me.