I haven’t told him about us yet. It’s too new, and I’m not sure what it is that we’re doing exactly. Well, I know what we’re doing. We’re having mind-blowing sex. But I’m inexperienced when it comes to men, and I want to make sure this is for real and not just because of the situation.
“I have to.” I plant a kiss on Dean’s forehead, and he smiles.
“When are we going to tell him?”
We’ve had this conversation before. Dean doesn’t like sneaking around, but I don’t want to give Kieren one more thing to worry about. Not until Mark is captured and we go back to normal, whatever that is now.
“When all this blows over, we’ll tell him we’re dating.”
Dean raises an eyebrow. “This is more than dating, Lauren. I’m going to be his stepdad one day. I want him to know that.”
His words make my heart flutter. It’s not the first time Dean’s made his intentions clear. At first, I thought it was all talk, but after two weeks of getting to know Dean and sharing his bed for half the night, I’m starting to believe it. And seeing him and Kieren bond has loosened something in my heart.
“We’ll tell him soon.” I kiss Dean on the cheek, and he releases his hold on me, respecting my decision. “Go back to sleep.”
I slide out of bed and tip-toe down the hallway to my room and my cold bed. But I can’t sleep again. Soon, I hear the house creak and soft footsteps, then low male voices as Dean and Kieren meet for their morning training session. They must be going for a run today, because soon the outside door opens and closes and their voices fade away.
Every morning they’re up at six together, either training in the gym or jogging in the woods. Dean has shown Kieren the correct way to weight train, and my lanky boy is starting to put on muscle.
Last night I was on a late work shift, and when I came home, I found them eating homemade burgers and watching Rocky.
When Dean tells me he wants to be Kieren’s stepdad, I believe him. It’s not just because of our relationship. Dean and Kieren are getting close and they seem to generally like each other, which is everything this wary mom wants.
It’s after six-thirty, and I get up and head to the kitchen. The guys will be hungry after their run, and the least I can do is make sure they’ve got something decent to eat.
The saucepans are under the oven, and I put one on to heat before grabbing a bowl from the cupboard. As I crack eggs into the bowl, I realize how at home I feel in Dean’s cabin. It’s been two weeks of staying with Dean, and it’s been relaxed and fun, and I haven’t missed my own space once. I thought it would be weird to give up my independence and live with a man, but I like it here. I like sharing the load, and I certainly like the nights spent in Dean’s bed, talking and laughing and making love.
No one has heard anything from Mark for two weeks, and my initial fear has subsided as the days go by. He probably skipped parole for some dodgy job. Perhaps he made connections in prison, and he’s gone to join a new criminal underworld. I don’t know how these things work. But as the days go by with no word from Mark, and life in Dean’s cabin settles into the new normal, I’m beginning to wonder if I overreacted.
But it led us to Dean’s cabin, and I can’t regret that.
I smile to myself as I whisk the eggs so they’re ready to scramble. We’re safe, my son is happy, and the man I’m falling for wants to be a part of both our lives. Things are really looking up.
Today is my shift as the community nurse, and a few hours later I’m heading toward my first visit of the day. The Baxterproperty is in the flat area at the base of the mountain, and one of its borders bumps up against Lexi’s property, which I’ve heard Dean mention.
The farmhouse is red brick with bright white windows. A plastic green slide set is in the front yard, and gardening tools are propped up against the fence.
The property stretches over land that was once farmed and is now overgrown. In the closest field is an ancient orchard, its branches heavy with plump, ripening cherries. Along the back fence are squat beehives, the residents flying to and fro in the hazy morning sun.
I mount the steps, and Abby pulls open the door before I knock.
“Good morning,” I say cheerfully.
She tilts her head and smiles. “You look different today. Did you have a haircut?”
I lower my head to hide my blush. I’ve been getting that a lot this week and the only thing I’ve done differently is sleep in Dean’s bed every night. Not that we get much sleep.
The sex is phenomenal and exploratory. We’ve tried positions I never knew existed, and I’ve orgasmed more times than I thought humanly possible. And yet we still can’t get enough of each other.
I follow Abby up the stairs of the old farmhouse that she shares with her three sisters, two nephews, and her elderly grandfather, whom I’m here to see. While Abby’s sisters run Sweet & Strong, the bakery in town, she stays home to look after their grandfather and the farm. Not that there’s much farm to look after these days.
It’s mostly gone to ruin over the years, since Abby’s parents passed away when they were still girls. All that remains are the orchard and the beehives.
I’ve been coming for the past three weeks to check on a foot infection the grandfather has. He’s too ill to move or too stubborn. I’m not sure which.
“Morning, Mr. Baxter,” I say brightly as I enter his bedroom.
His granddaughters keep it bright in here, and the curtain is pulled, and the window is open a crack. He eyes me warily as I dump my nursing bag on the chair.
