by Zoe York
She truly had no idea what was going on, and it was exhilarating. Just an hour ago, she'd been scared. Now...why had they not talked earlier? How had they not talked about some of that earlier? Life was busy, sure, but too busy to spend any time recollecting about their early days?
Maybe if their early days together had followed a more typical path. Maybe if they’d each been more confident that their relationship wasn't just perched on a precarious foundation of happenstance. When really, their love had cemented what started so shakily. Maybe that was the issue—they had never talked about it out of love.
How messed up. She shook her head. And now he was being cagey and secretive, but with the bright promise of disclosure looming, she could be patient. Try to be patient. Sheesh. How long was he going to be inside?
She made it halfway to the large glass doors when he strode out. Good lord, he was a sight. Dusty black boots. Snug jeans, loose t-shirt, except for where it stretched over his round shoulders. Long arms, corded with muscle. One of them, pointing straight at her. Oh shit.
“I wasn't coming inside.” Her protest was totally weak.
“Babe.” He snorted and tucked her under his arm, turning them back toward the bike.
“I can’t help but be curious. Why are we here, if we’re not staying?”
“Had to pick something up.”
He didn’t have anything in his arms, just her on one side, and his jacket tossed over his other shoulder. That meant...
“Get out of my pockets.” A laugh rumbled through his chest as she searched him. His keys were in one front pocket, his wallet in the back. Nothing else. “Seriously, angel, time to go. Unless you want me to search you?” He pulled her tight against his front and tugged at her zipper. “I’ve been wanting to see what you’ve got on under this jacket since you stepped out of the house.”
“It’s not nothing this time,” she teased. “But it’s something.”
“Something that will have to wait. Hop on.”
Riding on the back of Ian’s bike was, in a word, awesome. He didn’t have a motorcycle when they met. He’d seemed as white-bread wholesome as Canadian farm boys come when they met, even though at twenty-six, he’d hardly been a boy. But he’d had a secret account he’d been saving for quite a while, a fact she discovered one night when she was in the midst of her second-trimester horniness and Ian had convinced her it was a good idea to share sexual fantasies. He wasn’t wrong. When she told him she had a mystery biker fantasy, he got a wicked gleam in his eye and told her in minute detail just what kind of bike he’d ride. He even detailed a totally impractical and very hot biker babe outfit that she’d be wearing when he’d sweep her off her feet, and they both enjoyed her response. But when Kaylie was born, he’d put the money he’d been saving into an education fund. Next came a mortgage, but when she was pregnant with Drew, and it was time to replace his truck, she managed to convince him that she was really okay with him getting a bike instead. It appealed to his practical side, being cheaper to buy, and more affordable on gas. But they both knew that it also appealed to his secret inner bad boy. It was months before she got to ride on the back of it, and when she did, it was every bit as awesome as their shared fantasy predicted, even with the more sensible outfit.
A few years hadn’t changed that. The wind rushing against the few bits of exposed skin. Cold air all around her, except where Ian’s hard back warmed up her front. The roar of the machine between her legs. It was hot as hell.
The winery was on the north side of the east/west running road that, after a kilometre, turned into Heritage Street, one of two main streets in downtown Wardham. The other, creatively named Main Street, was the north/south street that intersected Heritage before ending at the municipal beach. A block before they reached Main, Ian turned the bike north, away from the beach and toward the park surrounding the town hall. If Wardham had a central business district, this was the heart of it. A quick left turn down a private lane, and they found themselves in the small parking lot in the center of the block behind Wardham Grocery and the now empty and derelict storefronts immediately beside it.
Ian pulled her toward the back entrance of the empty store two doors down from the grocery store, kicking up dust as he hurried along.
“Honey, what are we—” Carrie didn’t get a chance to finish her question before Ian pulled out his keys, flipped through the bundle, and after he found the shiny silver one he wanted, he held it out to her.
“Try it.” He set his big hand in the small of her back and gave her a gentle shove toward the door.
The key slid smoothly into the lock. The door and the handle both looked new—just about the only part of the building that did. Inside, a long expanse of dark greeted them. They were in a narrow hallway with doors at the end. As her eyes adjusted to the dark, she realized that the space immediately next to the door was wider than the hall in front of them, more like a store room.
“This used to be the five and dime, right?” She didn’t know why she was whispering. It was the middle of the afternoon, and Ian had a key. But there was something wondrous about this moment that she didn’t want to risk with a raised voice.
Ian pressed in tight against her back, his hands resting loosely at her waist. His voice was warm and low in her ear. “Yep. Then it was used seasonally by H&R Block for tax prep season. Remember that year that I worked for them in the spring?”
Kaylie had been a baby, and they’d moved in with his parents. It hadn’t been a great winter. Ian had taken the extra job to speed up the down payment savings. “Right. Doesn’t this place have a great exposed brick wall?”
He nodded against the top of her head. “Come on, let's go out front.”
The doors on either side of the hall looked like bathrooms, but the middle door opened into a small anteroom with an open window to the front of the store. They walked through that, Ian pausing to find the light switch, but they didn’t need it, as the afternoon sun was spilling in the large front windows, two of them, bracketing a big door. She twirled in the wide space, taking in the creaky old wood floors and exposed brick on the wall around the door they’d just stepped through.
“Ian, it's fantastic!” She slowed her spin and clapped her hands. “Ty and Evan own this?”
He nodded. “Just Evan, actually. He bought this building and the one next door. But he doesn’t have a plan for them yet. No time to find tenants or renovate.”
She sighed. “It’s a lot of work. I hope he finds someone who’s willing to do something different, though. Something that will draw people into town.”
“Like what?” He was watching her with a small smile. It had been too long since they’d talked about the potential of the town. She loved the unlimited potential of fantasy, and he seemed to have infinite patience for listening to her prattle on.
“I don't know... A flower shop, maybe. Oooh, an ice cream and candy store! If it were mine, I’d do a bakery.” She paced toward the back of the shop. “A glass display here. And a higher bar, over here, with a couple of stools, for people waiting for coffee. Yes, espresso and hot chocolate, maybe Italian sodas too. Keep it simple. No tables, you want people to take their drinks and wander down the strip.”
“There's a strip?” His grin was bigger now, his teeth white against the late fall tan farmers get.
“There would be. Wardham has the potential to be a big draw. Beautiful small town, gorgeous beach, close to the city. But we need to have services that make their visit special. Memorable.”
“Like a bakery-slash-coffee shop.”
“Exactly.”
“What would you call it?”
She laughed. “A Bun In The Oven.”
“And this space would be perfect for it?”
She shrugged. “Sure. It would take a lot of renovating, turn that middle room into a kitchen, or maybe the back, and storage in the middle...but first Evan would need to find someone crazy enough to see the potential.”
“I don't think you’re craz
y, babe.”
“Well, no, but for me it’s just a fantas—” She broke off, the end of the word jammed in her throat. Three thousand dollars. A key. “Ian?” His name squeaked past the lump.
“Yeah, babe?”
She gulped a breath. “What did you do?”
He grinned again, biggest smile ever this time. “I’ve leased this space from Evan. I'm going to renovate it, over the winter, and in the spring, either you’re going to open A Bun In The Oven, or we’ll sublet it to someone else to recoup our investment.”
She couldn't breathe. “This was your secret.”
“I should have told you.”
“This was your secret?” She shrieked the words again, and she felt bad about that, because shrieks could be taken a couple of different ways, she wanted it to be clear that she liked this plan. She liked this plan a lot. She hopped up and down and clapped her hands together. “Oh my god.”
“You like it.” Relief flooded his voice.
“Honey, I love it. We’re definitely crazy, together, it’s not just me now, you’re whole hog crazy too, but yes, I like it.” She grabbed his hands. “You’re okay with me doing this? No more babies, just a business baby?”
He nodded and curved his hands around her waist. “Time for me to share you with the world, babe.”
“I can’t believe it.” She danced on the spot again, tapping her hands against his chest. “You knew I wanted this?”
“Of course.”
“What do you mean, of course? Here I was having a panic attack because I didn’t know if you loved me for being anything more than the mother of your children, and you were doing this?” She glowered at him, but it had no heat. Unlike the look he shot right back, which was full of heat. The good kind.
“That you are the mother of my children will always be a part of why I love you.” He nudged a growing erection into her belly. “But it wasn’t the first reason I loved you, and it won’t be the last. And it’s definitely not the most important, which is that you are simply amazing. Carrie Nixon, you are loved for being you.” He shifted his hands lower, cupping her ass, and she arched her back. “You are wanted. And needed. For being you.”
She moaned as he nudged into the vee of her legs. “I never imagined…part of my heart has been stuck in that moment, eight years ago, when I told you that I was pregnant and I didn’t know what you were going to do.”
“Between then and now, a lifetime has happened. Neither of us are those scared kids anymore. And thank fuck for that.” With a quick bend of the knee, he had her up in the air before she could holler.
“Oh my god, Ian, put me down.” Her thighs shook as she tightened them around his waist, but he stood there in the middle of the dusty, empty storefront, like a billygoat on the mountainside. Surefooted and utterly confident. “I am not…this is not a good idea.”
“Carrie. I’ve got you.” He grinned at her. “Give me a kiss.”
She licked her lips and traced her hands around his face. Along his scruffy jawline, and down his neck.
“Babe, kiss me. Or I’m going to kiss you, and I’m not going to stop until we’ve christened this place.”
“That sounds like a great idea.” The words were breathy and hopeful, and totally lost as their mouths collided.
Epilogue
They didn’t actually christen Bun that afternoon, because it was afternoon, and the light in the back room was burnt out, and they were grownups with an empty house and a big bed available just a few minutes away. They made out for a while, though, delicious hot kisses interspersed with new ideas for the store and distracted gropings.
The next few months had been a whirlwind of activity, but they’d pulled it off. Permits filed, inspections completed. Opening day wasn’t going to be a full range of products, just muffins, baked last night, and scones, which needed to go into the oven in three hours.
She should go back to sleep for a bit, but it was raining. Opening day, and there was a steady downpour outside. No way could she go back to sleep. Next to her, Ian shifted, his warm hand snaking out from under the quilt to cup her breast. She smiled and sank in her back into him.
“Can’t sleep?” He murmured the question into the soft spot between her shoulder and her neck, and the nerves in her stomach were smothered by a different kind of tension.
“Mmmm.”
His tongued darted out to taste her skin, a wet swipe followed by cold air hitting her skin, and then his mouth again, licking and nibbling. Her eyes rolled up at the sensation, and she let out a small sigh. His thumb rolled over her nipple, and she lifted her top leg, hooking it over his behind her. “Eager, babe?”
“Always.”
“What do you want?” His mouth had shifted to the back of her neck now, and he bit her lightly when she didn’t immediately respond. She couldn’t. Nibbling her neck and playing with her nipple may just be foreplay, but it was really awesome foreplay.
“Uhm…” She groaned as he pinched her nipple. “Stop it.”
“If you wanted me to stop, you wouldn’t thrust your ass against my cock like that when I do it.” He tapped her nipple with the pad of one of his fingers, and dragged his hand down her quivering belly, murmuring appreciative words into her hair on his way to her core. “You’re so soft, angel, so sweet and soft and wet.”
“You do that to me, Ian. It’s all you.”
“No, babe. It’s all you. What do you want?”
She squirmed under his dancing fingers. “Your mouth.”
Behind her, his cock flexed in approval of this plan. “Fuck, yeah.” He rolled onto his back, pulling away from her, but used his closer arm to flip her over. “Climb up here.”
When he’d moved into her tiny apartment over the laundromat, he’d told her that one day they’d have a big bed with a big headboard. Having never had a real bed, just a mattress on a frame, Carrie had smiled and nodded. No way would they waste money on a headboard, not with an unexpected young family to figure out how to support.
The first time he’d suggested she ride his face, she’d wished for a headboard. The next time, it was to celebrate the purchase of their first real bed. Now she braced herself against the much beloved piece of furniture, and gasped as his tongue made first contact with her sex. He growled in delight, and she reached down to part her folds, but he nudged her hand out of the way. “Your big day, babe, let me do all the work.”
It didn’t take long. He teased her at first, licking around in lazy loops, avoiding her clit until she couldn’t help but squirm, and then he swirled his tongue around that swollen nub, flicking and sucking it until she thought she would explode, and then he started moving his hands up and around her hips, down her ass and even trailing through that cleft, totally disorienting her, so when her orgasm hit, it was almost a surprise, an upending wave. She shuddered hard against the wood frame in front of her, and Ian lifted her leg enough to roll out from underneath her. He tugged the quilt loose from the rest of the bedding and pulled it up and around their sweat-slicked bodies.
She shook again against his side, and practically purred when he rubbed her back. The rain was coming down harder now, that unwavering percussion the only sound in the otherwise quiet night. The aftershocks of her climax continued to ripple through her body, and she was still achingly aware of her desire for her husband. Under the warm blanket, she reached for his erection, which leapt back to full-strength at her gentle stroke.
“Do you have time?” His hand tightened on her side.
She’d make time. “Come join me in the shower?”
The quilt hit the floor, and Ian dashed to the bathroom. By the time she sauntered in, the shower was steamy.
“You know, I’m not in that much of a rush.”
He grinned. “Yeah, but I am.” They soaped each other up then rinsed off with a slow fuck against the tile wall, under the full force of the shower spray. They shared a look full of history and hope as he came inside her, his hips holding her up. At one time, they’d reve
led in that act because it gave them babies and built their family. Now that they’d made a permanent decision about birth control, it was just for them, their secret intimacy that had no other purpose than to be as one in that moment.
When Ian woke up the second time, it wasn’t to the warm rub of his wife’s nipple in his palm. Too bad, that. But it was possibly the second best way to be woken up. Two kids piled hard on him, one tackling his head, the other aiming straight for his kidneys.
“Daddy! It’s time to go to Mommy’s store! It’s muffin time!” Kaylie had probably been up almost as long as Carrie, but she’d been warned on pain of losing all muffins, ever, not to wake up her younger brother. Drew was not a morning kid.
But now he, too, was bouncing merrily around on the bed. “Mwuffins! Mwuffins!”
Ian didn’t need to be told again. He was pretty excited as well. He oversaw face scrubbing and teeth brushing, made sure that Drew’s underwear was on the right way, and Kaylie had enough change in her purse to buy them all muffins and steamed milk. Ian’s would have a few shots of espresso added, since his sexpot wife had interrupted his beauty sleep.
They loaded into his brand new truck—with Carrie doing early mornings at the shop, he was on kid duty again, and she didn’t want to drive the bike to work in the winter—and set off for town.
“Dad.” Kaylie only called him that when she wanted to be taken seriously. “I think there’s a problem.”
“What’s that, sweetie?” They drove past the shop and doubled back, looking for a parking spot.
“Mom’s shop isn’t big enough.” Her little finger tapped firmly on the window facing the bakery. A large hanging sign had just been installed the day before, a giant red coffee mug with the word BUN underneath it. The full name of the store was painted on one of the front windows. “Bakery & Coffee Shop” was spelled out on the other. But you couldn’t see that right now, because there was a large crowd on the sidewalk.
