“The pass is blocked. We had unusually high snowfall this year. I could take you up on the Ski-Doo, though. We could have a picnic in that old hunting shed we found.” He grins and glances down at his plate as though the kinky little memory we had there is coming back to him. “You remember that place?”
“Yup!” I smile, trying to push that night of ropes and fun back down where it belongs. “We’ve definitely had memories all over this mountain.”
My eyes are still locked with his, like there’s some sort of invisible pull holding me there. An invisible pull that also heats the room, makes my thighs ache, and stirs emotion in me I haven’t felt since I left. It could be the revelation he’s just unearthed, but most likely it’s hormones.
It’s just hormones.
It’s just hormones.
It’s just hormones.
I’ve read about this. Pregnancy hormones can make you do all kinds of things. Things I need to avoid if I’m ever going to make sense of my life.
“The Ski-Doo sounds fun.”Well, the pep talk I gave myself was clearly effective.
“Won’t be very refined.” He leans back in the booth and grins. “You’ll need to wear your long johns and some warm boots you don’t mind getting dirty.”
Excitement spills over me at the thought of spending the day snuggled up behind this giant man that I still have feelings for. This giant man that clearly still has feelings about me.
God, what am I doing?I can’t let myself get sucked back in so easily. I’m thinking for two now. And yet, the thought of breathing him in, holding him tight while we bounce over divots and ruts in the snow, stopping at the little hunting cabin in the woods for a warm fire, snacks and hot cocoa, reigniting our love, letting ‘things’happen, it all sounds amazing. It would be one of the best days of my life.
Then all at once it hits me.
Duh, I’m pregnant!I can’t go snowmobiling, especially in the back country. I’d get rocked around like crazy. That can’t be good for the baby. What was I thinking?
This whole thing is stupid. I can’t run back into a relationship with him because he bumped into me with one nice apology. We broke up for a reason, and I need to remember that!
“Umm… actually, I just remembered I have a big meeting tomorrow so I should probably run.” I pause for a second and glance toward him before sliding up from the booth, tossing twenty dollars down on the table. “I’m so sorry for this. I… yeah, I should go.” The words feel painful leaving my throat, like my mouth and my brain are at war with each other.
“You don’t need to pay for breakfast, peach, and you don’t need to leave.” Wyatt stands from the booth, towering over me like the biggest, strongest, best smelling man alive.
Okay, I really need to masturbate some of this sexual energy out of myself if I’m going to be able to do anything else today.
“I know.” I look up at him, desperate to fall into his arms. “It was really great catching up with you. I’m so sorry about the ride. Umm… maybe next time I’m in town.” I stay in his orbit another moment before I force myself to shuffle down the checkered aisle toward the door and into the cold blur of white.
Chapter Four
Wyatt
I’m home with my carving knife in one hand, a piece of wood in the other. Usually, I have a plan for what I’m working on. Today, the only thing that matters is the feel of the blade against my thumb, the scent of the wood as it curls into itself, and the distraction it offers as I try to make sense of what happened today.
Maybe it was a blessing that I ran into Alice. Hell, I was about to run out to California and blow up my life again. This has gotta be the Lord’s way of kicking me in the ass and getting me out of this town once and for all.
I can’t chance running into Alice again. I can’t see her pretty face, that blonde hair resting on her shoulders, her full breasts, her soft smile.
I can’t do it.
Hell, I’d redo the ten years I spent sleeping in dirt holes and dodging roadside bombs over the shit feeling of watching everything you love and need walk away.
Even when she’s gone, I’m still left with ghosts. The ghost of every memory we made here. The diner, the old hunting shack in the woods, the trail we took mudding up to the west creek every spring. It all hurts too damn much.
Frustrated with the whole damn thing, I set my tools down and lean back in the recliner, trying to figure which direction Ishould go. I could go further west but that only gets me closer to her. I could go south but I don’t think I’m built for the heat and humidity. East is all tech and city. North probably makes the most sense with Montana being my best option. The landscape is familiar and I could homestead on a few acres. It’ll take a while to build, but it’ll be better than the nothing I currently have here.
I blow out a heavy sigh and close my eyes as the fire crackles low beside me. For a second, I think the pain is subsiding, and a plan is all I needed, but a moment later, the faintest smell of her perfume haunts me and I’m back to imagining what life would be like if I hadn’t fucked everything up.
Would we have both gone to California so she could take the job at the Chronicle? Would she have stayed here and kept working for the Gazette? Would she be pregnant by now? We’d been talking about trying for a while before I picked up the gambling thing.
Fuck!
