Feels like Home (Lake Fisher Book 2)

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Feels like Home (Lake Fisher Book 2) Page 18

by Tammy Falkner


  The kids bound off in different directions, some to get buckets and others to get balloons, and Aaron pulls me into a headlock, scrubs my head none too delicately, and says, “I love you, Bess.” He grins at me as he sets me back from him.

  “I love you too, you big dummy,” I say.

  One more summer. But hopefully, it’ll be the best one yet.

  33

  Eli

  After Katie takes the sprayer away from Mr. Jacobson as if he were a naughty child, I run back to the cabin really quick and get Bess’s camera. She had promised Aaron that she would take some candid summer shots of his kids, and this is a perfect time. The kids have had a blast with the water balloons, and Katie even got in on the action when she dropped a huge balloon filled with freezing cold water over the top of Mr. Jacobson’s head. “Payback’s a bitch,” she’d crowed as the old man gasped and shivered.

  I watch as Bess stands on the periphery of the group, her camera raised in front of her face as she takes photo after photo. She has to stop to manually advance the film, but she does it quickly and efficiently the same way she does everything else.

  Bess has a gleam in her eye that I haven’t seen in quite a while. In fact, I was afraid I’d never see it again. “She’s glowing,” Jake says from where he’s standing next to me. I smile at him, unsure of how to respond. “Things are going well?” He asks it quietly so no one else can hear.

  “Yeah, I think so.” I don’t know what he wants to hear.

  “She’s changed since you guys got here,” he says.

  “What do you mean?” I know she has changed, but I want to hear what he sees, because I’m afraid I’m biased. I’m afraid I’m only seeing what I want to see, which is her loving and accepting me again.

  “When you guys arrived, she was closed off. Like there was a wall between her and the rest of the world.” He shakes his head. “I know you thought it was just you she hated, but I think she hated herself a little bit too.” He shrugs. “But what do I know? Probably nothing.”

  “And now what do you see?” I watch her. She’s smiling as she shows Sam how her camera works.

  “Life,” Jake says. He only says that one word. Life. And that’s what it is. She’s alive, and she really hasn’t been, not for a very long time. She’s been living, but she was a shell of herself. “Opportunity,” he adds. “Life is what you make of it, dude.”

  He walks away and goes to help Katie pick up pieces of shredded balloon. She straightens up, grabs her stomach, and freezes.

  Jake’s eyebrows shoot up toward his hairline as he stares at her. “Now?” he asks, all concern.

  She relaxes after a beat and shakes her head. “Just a huge kick,” she says. “Huge kick.” She blows out a breath. “This one is going to be a soccer player.”

  “Can I feel?” I hear a voice ask.

  I freeze and briefly close my eyes because I know it was Bess who asked. I haul in the deepest breath I can and watch as Katie nods. She grabs Bess’s hand and lays it on her belly. Bess jumps and laughs out loud when the baby kicks against her hand.

  “Definitely a soccer player,” she says, her eyes full of wonder. She searches around until her eyes meet mine. And I don’t see anything in them but joy over Katie’s condition. I don’t see regret or agony or sadness, and I am so grateful that I don’t know what to do.

  “Can we make dough doggies now?” Alex asks.

  “Yes,” Katie replies. “Let me go get the supplies.”

  “Let me,” Bess says. “Go sit down. Good grief, you’re about forty years pregnant.”

  “How much longer, Katie?” Aaron asks.

  “Could be any day now,” Katie says. “I just hit thirty-eight weeks.”

  “Or you could go four more weeks, if you have a kid as stubborn as Sam,” Aaron says. “She was determined she wasn’t coming out.” He scrubs his hand across the top of her head. “And she’s done everything her own way every day since.”

  She grins at him, and I watch as Bess takes a picture of them smiling at one another.

  “Was I stubborn, too, Dad?” Kerry-Anne asks as she goes and sits down next to him by the fire.

  “Nope. You have always been easy to manage. Unlike your sister.”

  “Normally, it’s reversed,” Katie says. “You usually get the really stubborn baby after the first, when you’ve gotten comfortable getting your own way.” She laughs. “Then the new baby arrives and ruins it all.”

  Jake grabs a few beers from the cooler and brings one to me. “Thanks,” I say absently.

  “You can’t take your eyes off her, can you,” Jake says quietly.

  I finally look away. “I can’t help it if I like looking at my wife.” I grin, ducking my head to hide my embarrassment.

  “Nothing wrong with being in love with the person you live with. It certainly helps things, in the long run.” He walks away to go and take a beer to Aaron.

  “Mom,” Alex asks. “Can I go get the supplies myself?”

  “I’m on the way!” Bess says. “I got it!” She walks quickly toward the house. I watch her as she walks away, and I follow her silently. Jake makes a sound like someone is cracking a whip behind me, so I shoot him the bird behind my back. He chuckles and I ignore him entirely.

  I follow Bess into the kitchen, and find her bent over, looking inside the cabinets. “What exactly is in a dough doggie?” she asks from over her shoulder.

  “Biscuit dough,” I say, and I go to the fridge and take out a couple of cans of dough. I look for jelly, butter, and chocolate sauce, all of which I find in the door of the fridge. “And this stuff,” I say as I carry it over to her.

  “Anything else?” she asks. She loads a basket with some items, and then adds the ingredients for s’mores, which she finds in the cabinet.

  “Just this,” I say, and I capture her face in my hands and stare into her eyes. “Unless you’re opposed to it, I’m going to kiss the shit out of you.”

  I wait a beat, and she says nothing, until finally she very quietly whispers, “I’m not opposed.”

  I brush her hair back from her temples. “It’s been a long time,” I remind her.

  She laughs. “Are you afraid you forgot how?”

  “A little.”

  She steps up onto her tiptoes and presses her lips against mine. She kisses me. Her lips are soft and silky, and she parts her lips immediately, her tongue reaching out to touch mine, the way that people who have kissed one another for a lifetime do, like they know exactly how to do it. Her tongue is nothing more than a raspy slide against mine, and then it’s gone. She pulls back and buries her face in my shirt with a groan. When she finally lifts her head, her cheeks are pink and her eyes are shiny.

  “Everything okay?” I ask.

  She sniffles. “Better than okay.” She kisses the side of my chin. “I’ve missed you and I didn’t even realize it.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means that if I lost this today, I would miss it.” She shrugs. “That’s all.”

  “Lost what?” I whisper.

  “You. Us. This. If it were gone, I’d be really sad.” Her voice is not much more than a whisper, but it sounds like bells going off in my head.

  “You really don’t hate me anymore?” I ask, needing reassurance. I don’t know why.

  “Not even close,” she says. She kisses my chin again, lingering there for just a second. “And you taste like beer,” she adds. She laughs lightly and turns to carry the basket out the door.

  “Is that bad?” I ask her retreating back, but I’m laughing as I follow her out the door.

  “Not at all. You should totally do that more often,” she says. Her eyes meet mine and they don’t look away. Then she breaks contact and walks to the fire, where she puts the basket down on a little makeshift table. “Somebody needs to remind me how to make a dough doggie because I have forgotten,” she says to everyone and no one.

  “Give me a stick,” Mr. Jacobson snaps. “I’ll show you how it’
s done.”

  Bess takes pictures of all the kids making dough doggies, and Aaron takes Miles from Gabby to hold as he sits next to the fire.

  “Are you tired?” I hear Bess ask him.

  He nuzzles the side of his face against the top of Miles’s downy-soft head. “Not a bit,” he says.

  “Well, if you change your mind, I could be persuaded to hold that baby.”

  Aaron grins at her. “I appreciate your willingness to take one for the team. I will take your offer under advisement.”

  “You want a dough doggie?” Bess asks him.

  “Nuh-uh. If you make it, you’ll put a booger in it or something,” he teases. I laugh out loud. “Dude, don’t laugh,” he says to me. “You know it’s true.”

  “That’s why it’s funny,” I reply and take a sip of my beer.

  As the sun sets, I realize that Bess is more relaxed right now than I’ve seen her in years. She sets her camera to the side and looks for an empty chair. I’m sitting in a chaise lounge, so I move my feet. “Come sit with me,” I say quietly.

  “Are you sure?” she asks hesitantly. All the other adults around the fire get quiet. No one says a word.

  I grab her hand and pull her toward me, spread my knees and make room for her, and she settles down awkwardly in the space. “Maybe I should—” she begins. But I grab her and jerk her up higher, so she’s almost on my lap. I lift one knee to the side so that she has enough room, and I guide her until she settles with her back against my chest. “I’m squishing you. Are you sure…” But then she goes quiet.

  “Don’t ask dumb questions, kiddo,” Mr. Jacobson says, his voice quiet but firm amidst the crackling of the fire.

  “Yes, sir,” she replies. She roots around until she finds the most comfortable spot to lie in, which is on her side with her head under my chin, her face almost on my chest. “Is this okay?” she asks so that only I can hear her.

  “Don’t ask dumb questions, kiddo,” I say, mocking the gruffness of Mr. Jacobson’s voice.

  Mr. Jacobson chuckles but says nothing. Bess settles more deeply against me, and I feel it all the way in my soul. She wiggles, and then freezes when she realizes my dick is getting hard against her hip.

  “Sorry,” I whisper in her ear. Then I kiss the shell of her ear really quickly.

  “I like it,” she whispers back, and then she kisses my chin. I can feel the quirk of her grin against my skin.

  “Is that so?” I ask quietly, my voice more of a rumble.

  “Mm-hmm.”

  Mr. Jacobson plucks a half-burnt marshmallow from his stick and throws it in our direction. It bounces off my forehead, and Jake catches it on the rebound and tosses it into his mouth. “Five second rule,” he says around the big ball of goo.

  Bess reaches up with her thumb to wipe the smear from the marshmallow on my forehead. As she brings her hand down, I grab it and bring it to my mouth, licking the slight sweetness from the pad of her thumb. She sucks in a breath and her hip moves against my dick.

  “Be still,” I whisper in warning. But I touch the tip of her chin so that she lifts her face just a little, and I kiss her. She tastes sweet, like jelly and toasted bread, and I fight not to deepen the kiss.

  “Anybody want to hear a story?” Mr. Jacobson asks the group.

  “Yes, please,” the kids sing in chorus, and I can tell this is something he does with his grandkids a lot. Even Gabby is paying attention.

  “Well, once upon a time…” His voice drones on and on, but I don’t hear any of it. Instead, I concentrate on the fact that Bess is in my lap, that she’s open and eager and she’s picking up everything I’ve put down. She’s not turning me away. And that’s a damn good feeling.

  “You want to go home?” she asks me quietly. And I know what she means. Do you want to go home and have sex? Do you want to ease that ache inside me? Do you want to make love to me?

  “Not yet.” I don’t want to ruin this. And I also don’t want to move too fast, because I want this to last.

  Aaron catches my eye from the other side of the fire and gives me an exaggerated wink. I ignore him and take a sip of my beer. Bess takes it from me and takes a sip of it too, her lips where mine just were. She puts it back in my hand, and I know I am a goner.

  There’s nothing wrong with being in love with my wife, is there?

  34

  Bess

  I get so comfortable lying in Eli’s lap that I almost fall asleep. We listen as Mr. Jacobson tells stories to the kids. Many of them were ones we heard when we were younger, and we pay attention as raptly as the kids do, for nostalgia’s sake. Nights spent around the fire pit were some of the best summer nights I ever experienced as a child, and tonight is no different.

  My shins are so hot they start to itch, but I don’t move. I’m too comfortable. I remember many years ago, Eli and I used to snuggle like this all the time. But through the years, I’ve allowed, and pushed for, more and more separation between us, and for that I am truly sorry. I gave up so much time when I could have been doing this.

  Eli’s fingertips trail slowly up and down the outside of my arm, tickling from the bend of my shoulder to the ridge of my elbow and back up again. I squirm and he makes a noise from beneath me. “You okay?” I ask. I shift a bit, in case my weight is making him uncomfortable.

  “I’m fine,” he says, and his fingers make that lazy trail up my arm again. It’s more of a graze than a rub, and it feels better that I remember it feeling. Eli has always had a way of making me feel desire but right now I feel downright needy. His hand curls and the tips of his fingers brush the inside of my arm rather than the outside. His knuckle skims the edge of my nipple, and I let out a whimper. His hand freezes. “You okay?” he asks, using the same words I just asked him.

  “I’m fine.” I turn and kiss his chin. He dips his head and his lips touch mine, a fleeting glance and nothing more. He lays his head back against the chair webbing and stares at the fire.

  His hand starts that slow slide again, and I arch my back, pushing my breasts toward his fingers. He makes a low noise from deep in his throat, but he doesn’t deviate from the slow slide up and down my arm. His knuckle doesn’t go anywhere near my nipple, and I stop squirming and stop reaching for it because I realize he’s right. This is not the time.

  Eli and I used to have amazing sex. I was never left unsatisfied. He had an almost lazy way of touching me that used to make me crazy. Even after we started sleeping in separate bedrooms, Eli would occasionally, in those early days, come to me late at night. He would wake me up with his head between my thighs or by rolling me over and sliding inside me. I would pretend to sleep through the beginning of it, and he would stroke me until I couldn’t hide it anymore, until he knew I was awake and wanting him.

  But then one day he came to me when I was still half awake. I couldn’t pretend like I didn’t know what he was doing, and I asked him to leave. He was devastated, and he stared at me like he didn’t know who I was. But he left, and the next time he came to me in the middle of the night, I had locked the door. I can still remember the way that he’d jiggled the knob, and then he’d made an incredulous noise like he couldn’t believe I’d locked him out.

  Then I’d heard him breathe out the words “okay, Bess,” and he’d never come to my room in the middle of the night again.

  After he stopped coming to me, I missed him, but I told myself it was for the best, that it would ease the inevitable break between us, but all it really did was make me feel even more lonely. But once it was done I couldn’t take it back. He never again came to my room in the middle of the night and I never went to his.

  And that was the beginning of the end.

  “Hey, Bess,” Aaron suddenly says from his spot on the other side of the fire.

  “Hey, Aaron,” I respond, the way I always have.

  He chuckles and says, “Do you have big plans this weekend?”

  I look up at Eli and he says nothing. “Do we have plans this weekend?” I ask hi
m. He looks startled for a second, like he’s wondering if the two of us are a we. His hand stops moving, and he takes a sip of his beer like he needs a second to think.

  “Not that I know of,” he replies. He addresses Aaron. “Why do you ask?”

  “I was thinking about going to visit my mom this weekend,” Aaron says.

  “Do you need me to go with you?” I ask.

  “Oh, no.” He waves a breezy hand in the air. “I was going to fly up and stay a day or two.”

  “All by yourself?” I say. Then I realize what I’ve done. He’s a grown man and he doesn’t need a caretaker—at least not yet.

  He looks over at Sam, who grins at him. “No, I thought I’d take Sam with me.” I can tell they’ve already discussed this and she’s a co-conspirator. “So I was kind of wondering if you might let Kerry-Anne and Miles stay with you.” He rushes on to say, “It would only be for a day or two, depending on how things go with my mom.”

  “How’s she doing?” Eli asks.

  He shrugs. “She has good days and bad days.”

  I’m guessing that he wants to go and talk to her about his plans for the future and what’s going on now, but I don’t ask about any of that. Eli tips his head so that he can look down into my face.

  “You feel like watching the kids?” he asks me.

  “Do you?”

  He shrugs. “I don’t see why not.”

  “We can take them,” Jake offers. “If Bess and Eli are busy.” But Katie shushes him with a tap of her fingers to his thigh. “What?” he asks her, like he’s confused.

  “Shush,” she says.

  That makes me grin. “We can do it,” I say with a nod.

  “Are you sure?” Aaron stresses. He stares at me like he’s looking for clues about what I’m feeling.

  “It’s not like we have big plans.” I lift my face to look at Eli. “Did you have big plans?”

  He shakes his head. “Fishing. Swimming.” He shrugs. “Aside from that, I have nothing going on.”

 

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