Country Wishes

by RaeAnne Hadley

  Just as I was starting to get by him, his big palm closed around mine. Stopping me in my tracks, I looked up into his beautiful face. “You're not alone, Sophie,” he rumbled and squeezed my hand. “Don't pick up any tree. All that are left are shit. I'll call you and pick you up tomorrow and we'll go and get one in the mountain.”

  I would love to say I hadn't checked my phone every few minutes anticipating Dylan's call.

  But I did.

  I also convinced myself I was being stupid and he has changed his mind and decided not to call or take me tree searching, upon which he would cut that tree for me and I would get to take it home.

  I also gave my best trying not to imagine decorating the said tree with him and his daughter while Christmas music played in the background, Mrs. McConnell sat in an armchair bossing us around, the smell of cookies baking filling the house, and all an all a Hallmark scene played in my grandmother’s house.

  I failed.

  I did all that.

  That was why when the phone on my desk rang, I screamed a little, scaring an already frightened mother of four who was also sleep deprived half to death.

  “Sorry,” I muttered picking up the phone and sliding the green icon on the screen. “Hello?”

  “Soph, Dylan,” his deep voice caressed my eardrums.

  I shivered in response.

  “Hi,” to my utter despair I breathed dreamily.

  “Listen, we're not going to be able to go get a tree today. Something came up,” if he noticed my breathy voice he didn't give any indication he did, he went on like it was all business. “So we're moving it to tomorrow.”

  “Oh,” the sharp stab of disappointment clutched my chest. “Okay. Is everything all right?” I tucked my hair behind my ear, a nervous tick I developed in med school and one I couldn't get rid of, no matter if I left my hair down or had it in a ponytail.

  “Yeah,” he was distracted and not giving any kind of explanation.

  “Okay,” I repeated and wanted to slap myself. “So, I'll see you tomorrow, then?”

  “Tomorrow, bye,” he disconnected.

  Looking up and forming an apology for disruption I was met with a knowing smile from the exhausted Mom. “I see you're in the middle of a fun road.”

  “I'm sorry?” There was nothing fun about this frail relationship or friendship, or whatever that was between Dylan and me.

  “Don't worry, girl,” she waved her hand. “I know it doesn't seem that way now, but when you finally get that man who was on the other end of that call, you'll look fondly on this time,” she gave an explanation that was not an explanation and looked to her three young children sitting on the examination table in my office.

  Her face was soft, it was also content.

  It was a sight to see.

  I didn't share that would never happen. Because I would never get Dylan.

  I also didn't tell her that what she said didn't explain anything.

  Because, in the end, it did.

  I watched Zara and Olivia as they skipped their way on the forest path, hand in hand.

  Zara had a Mrs. Clause costume on and Olivia had a pointed hat from which trailed a shimmery veil to the middle of her back on her head.

  As I parked at the start of the trail, right at the bottom of the mountain, per Dylan's instructions, I felt dread filling me.

  He called in the morning saying that he wouldn't be able to pick me up after all and to come here.

  I hadn't questioned anything, just hopped in my car and went.

  As I watched, who I now knew was Olivia, laughing with Zara and Dylan looking at them with strange almost longing look on his face, all I wanted to do was turn my car and drive far away. Unfortunately, they've already seen me.

  I wasn't even five seconds out of the safety of my Mustang when Olivia skipped her way to me holding Zara's hand firmly in hers, and said, “So, you're Sophie. I'm Olivia, Zara's fairy friend,” she winked and looked at Dylan exclaiming, “You're an idiot.” Looking at Zara she threw her a big smile. “Okay, baby girl, it's time to find that awesome tree you’ve been raving about. Lead the way,” and off they went.

  Watching the three of them I felt I was somehow intruding and didn't belong there.

  I also felt jealous.

  And lonely.

  I could have had that.

  In another world.

  In another time, this could have been mine.

  “So...”I began just to break the awkward silence that left as the two females went off.

  “She's Zara's godmother,” Dylan looked at me, an edge to his voice. “She's also my former teammate.”

  I tilted my head not getting why he was telling me this. “Okay?”

  “The questions are written all over your face, Sophie.”

  “What questions?”

  “Is she Zara's mother? If we are a couple,” the edge was getting sharper and was starting to slice into me. “I'm not sure you deserve them, but no.”

  “No, what?”

  “No, to all of your questions,” he started to follow his girl and a woman who I still didn't know the role of in his life.

  “You have a daughter,” I said softly. Maybe it was just to say something, maybe it was in some form of getting the answers to questions I had no right to ask. Even he pointed that out.

  “I have a daughter,” he confirmed unnecessarily.

  “Where...”

  “Don't, Sophie,” he muttered not even looking at me.

  “Don't what?”

  “Just, please, don't,” he stopped, turned my way and for a brief moment showed me the years’ worth of pain before his eyes flashed and he buried it. “Let's just get this over with. Zara wanted you here and even if it's not right, I tend to give my baby girl whatever she wants. Especially at Christmas,” he whispered.

  I looked down the path again and saw that they were skipping back to us.

  And in that moment I knew nothing would ever change.

  I wouldn't get Dylan back.

  I would never have Zara be a part of my day and to have a right to put on a ridiculous hat just to make her happy and skip my way through life with her.

  We could never come to the point of being able to co-exist in Hopeful.

  I would have to leave.

  Leave all this behind.

  Just as I found my way home, I would once again have to give it all up so he could live his life without me interfering and intruding.

  I didn't want to remind him of another time. Of a time when we were an us and we were happy.

  I didn't want to bring him pain.

  It took me only a second to realize this.

  It also took me once more to know what I needed to do, to be able to go without regret and looking back.

  That was why I looked, took a step closer to him, noticing his body tensing. I ignored that and whispered, “I get it.”

  “You get what?”

  Jerking my way to the path I tried to explain, “She has your future, I had your past.”

  I took advantage of his mouth opening, of him trying to say something and quick as a whip, my hand shot out tagging him behind his neck. Pushing up to my tip toes I rose up, his head came willingly, but I was too focused to notice. And he met me half way.

  I got what I needed.

  I knew I did the right and the wrong thing the instant our lips met, and my tongue touched the tip of his.

  I moaned preparing to push in deeper, to burrow into him one last time and could feel the vibrations in his chest as something rolled in them. That all stopped when a cheerful shriek pierced the air, “Daddy!”

  Tearing back, my breath winded, I hurried, “Please tell Zara I'm sorry I had to go. And I hope you have a magic Christmas.”

  “Sophie,” he began to say, but I didn't listen, I turned and hurried to my car.

  With shaking hands I opened the door, got in and started up the Mustang.

  My vision fought me on being blurry all the way home, but I manag
ed to clear it.

  When I got home, I exited the car and ran to my house.

  It was after the lock clicked, I dumped my coat on the floor in front of the door and was buried under my grandmother’s blanket that the first tear rolled down my face.

  And it was after that that the sobs came.

  Chapter Eight

  DYLAN

  “You're an idiot,” Olivia said in passing, again. Sitting across from him, setting herself up just in his viewpoint, she brought her mug up to her mouth and blew lightly.

  He didn't need this shit.

  He needed to have a quiet night, put Zara in bed and open up that whiskey bottle that sat in his cabinet for over two years.

  “You said that already,” he muttered not looking away from the TV.

  “It needs repeating,” she said sipping her tea.

  He didn't say anything. He hoped she would just give it up already.

  All afternoon he wanted to go after Sophie. He still wasn't clear with himself as to why he wanted to do it. Was it because he wanted to demand she left finally or to finish that kiss, he couldn't answer.

  Christ, that kiss.

  The moment he felt her giving a slight push to his neck, he stopped thinking and just went. He bowed his head for her.

  He used to love the fact she was so short, he had to literally bow his head to get her mouth. It gave him a sense of satisfaction that she was able to burrow her whole body into him, that he could pick her up not blinking or that she used to demand for him to wrap himself around her, no matter where they were or what they did, because she was cold.

  But when he felt that touch of her tongue a current went through him. Right from his mouth, through his chest to his gut. All the way to his dick.

  Jesus, he realized he hadn't felt that kind of a rush in seventeen years.

  That level of need.

  He looked to Zara coloring under the freshly cut tree and he thought back to the time with his ex-wife.

  On some level he loved her. Even when they were together, he was painfully aware that it wasn't the kind of love he had for Sophie. He did his best not to make it obvious.

  And he had women before and after his marriage. Not even one came even close to give him what Sophie gave him just with barely their touch.

  It was good she got spooked when she heard Zara. If she didn't and stayed where she was, he was sure he would find somewhere to hide them and strip her out of her coat and whatever lied underneath.

  She needed to leave Hopeful.

  It was whacky but he called dibs on this town.

  It was his home.

  And he couldn't have her this close and not do anything about it.

  So, yeah, she needed to go.

  He went back to stare blindly at the TV, counting down the minutes until it was time for Zara to call goodnight so he could crack open that bottle. His eyes didn't make it to their destination.

  Because he couldn't help but stop and stare at the grin on Olivia's face.

  “What?” he grunted trying to act indifferent.

  “You're an idiot,” she smiled.

  “Fine, I'll play,” he sighed. “Why am I an idiot?”

  “Because I saw that kiss and I've seen your face while you watched her running away after,” she took a sip. She was goading him. “And all day I've being looking at the torn expression you're sporting.”

  The saliva poured in his mouth at the mentions of the kiss. He was literally salivating after Sophie.

  “I'm not torn,” he swallowed.

  “Sure you aren't,” she said lightly. “What did she tell you?”

  He didn't know why, he would never know why but at her question he told her everything that happened between him and Sophie from the moment she came back until that morning.

  “Why are you fighting against it?” there was a genuine curiosity on Olivia's face.

  “Because she should live a big life, she's a thoracic surgeon, for Christ sakes,” he glanced at his girl making sure she wasn't eavesdropping. “She would leave me eventually. When she becomes aware of the fact I can't give her much. Besides, look what happened with my ex-wife.”

  “I won't go into the reason why you can't even say that woman’s name. I don't think yours is the same as mine. But you do know you're not to blame for it, right?” Olivia leaned deep to put her mug on the coffee table that was in front of her, but she stayed that way and looked at him. All teasing forgotten. “Dylan, you're more than enough. You're probably every girl's dream man. But, after I met Sophie, even at a glance, I knew she was perfect for you. You're perfect for each other.”

  He didn't say anything.

  When she got like this there was nothing in this world that would get Olivia to leave it alone. He just had to ride the wave.

  “Tel me something,” she said leaning back in her chair.

  “What?” he grunted.

  “She said Zara, or I, since you don't know to which one she was referring, has your future. And she had your past,” she continued in a light tone, but there was a glimmer in her eyes that told him he should brace himself.

  He couldn't help it.

  “What?”

  “What's in between?” she whispered.

  He was right, he should have braced himself.

  The moment she asked that question Sophie's voice sounded in his mind.

  Because I felt exactly the same.

  Every day after you threw me away was a struggle. Every day I prayed I would get better. Every day I hoped the pain would be less painful. And all through those days I slapped a smile on my face and faked my way through. And every night I fell asleep in tears wishing the next day wouldn’t come. Because even the thought of you not being the part of it ripped me in half.

  With enough time, you become a master at hiding it.

  It was on the tip of his tongue. He almost let the curse explode from his mouth. He managed to bite it and not let it loose.

  He couldn’t help the grunt, though.

  “Go,” Olivia whispered and he focused on her. “Go and get her. I have our girl.”

  Chapter Nine

  SOPHIE

  I was finishing up cleaning the kitchen, my Christmas bake off done which was not nearly as much fun when doing it alone as it was with my grandma or as it would be with Zara, when there was a loud bang on the door.

  I didn't want to answer it.

  Not after what happened that morning or afternoon.

  But since I was still a town's doctor and there could be an emergency, I had no choice.

  I did not expect the man that was standing there, his fist raised ready to pound some more on my door, to stand where he stood.

  "Tell me," he growled before I had the chance to say anything.

  "Tell you what?" I asked. Why was he here? Why did he keep coming after me? Why did he feel the need to torture me so much?

  "What is in between?"

  Oh, God!

  "Don't do this, Dylan. Please," I pleaded with him but he just shook his head a stubborn look in his eyes.

  My mouth suddenly went dry, but I powered through. If he wanted to know this badly then he'll know.

  "Dreams," I said squaring my shoulders. "Dreams are what's in between."

  "Dreams of what, baby?"

  Baby.

  God.

  Oh, God!

  He has been killing me for the last three weeks. Sure, it was unknowingly just by showing me glimpses of the man he became. Still, I thought I couldn't survive it. And after that kiss I was sure that day would be the last one I had on this earth.

  But, I was wrong.

  This.

  This is what was going to be the final blow.

  The word baby said in that soft tone wrapped in velvet only he could have.

  “Dreams of you, of us,” I swallowed hard before I said what I said next. “And dreams of a little girl with brown eyes that have deep blue rim around its irises and shrieks whenever she talks.”

  “So
phie,” he grunted before his hand that he had on my doorframe shot out and tagged me behind my neck.

  He yanked me to him so forcefully, my head jerked back and caused me to yelp.

  It didn’t stop him though.

  I suspect nothing in that moment would.

  “You dreamt of me? Of my girl?”

  “Every second of my life since you shoved me out of yours,” I whispered getting lost in the look he had.

  The one that caused my knees to go weak.

  The one that took my breath away.

  He grunted once more, the sound coming deep from his gut, like someone sucker punched him and then I could see him no more.

  And that was because, after seventeen years I finally got the taste of him in my mouth.

  He was kissing me.

  And it wasn’t a welcome back kiss, it wasn’t the first kiss that inevitably changed someone lives.

  No.

  This was a re-claiming kiss.

  He didn’t need to do it; I hadn’t shed his claim ever.

  But I was glad he did.

  From the moment our lips touched, his tongue forced apart mine and he plunged it in my mouth taking everything I had to give him.

  I vaguely heard the door shut. I had no idea how we got to the couch since all I could feel was his tongue that did marvelous things playing with mine. His teeth that nipped my lips. And his hands as they pulled my clothes off me.

  I felt like I was floating.

  My blood started to boil in my veins and if I didn’t get him soon, I was sure I would go up in flames.

  “Dylan,” I panted but I got no more out because his lips and tongue and teeth got back to mine.

  His hands squeezed my ribcage almost as if he was trying to get to my heart. His knees shoved between my legs the second he got me lying down on the couch, but I already spread them, and he fell through hitting my sweet spot with his groin.

  “Dylan, honey,” I was out of breath. I was out of practice, but I couldn’t get to him fast enough.

  “Hush, baby,” he muttered looking at me for only a second then going back to what he was doing. And that was getting me naked.

  “I need you,” I whispered in his ear.

  “In a minute,” he growled.