by Zoe York
Megan shrugged and headed for the stairs, shouting back over her shoulder, “Breakfast is almost ready!”
Downstairs, she found Paul watching over a skillet of pancakes and sausages, holding a matching mug to hers. She smoothed her sundress over her hips, grateful Megan hadn’t seen it the day before. She’d need to go home for a quick shower and more hiking appropriate clothes, but her stomach told her she should stay for breakfast, first.
“Hey.” He pulled her close, really close, tucking his arm around her like this wasn’t a totally weird situation.
“We need to talk,” she said quietly, hoping that the lack of volume wouldn’t keep the urgency from getting through.
From his raised eyebrow response, that wasn’t a problem. “About what?”
“Megan waking me up? All of a sudden you just being okay with all of this?”
“You’re freaking out.”
“Yes!” She pressed her free hand, the one not pinned tight to his side, to her chest and rubbed a tight circle there. “We’ve just got from zero to sixty in, like, five seconds.”
“Baby.” Damn him and his calm voice that cut through her anxiety and made her feel all warm and melty. “What can I do to make this less weird?”
“I don’t know. Maybe I just need some time.”
“Hmmm. Time doesn’t really work for me, since we’ve already wasted a good deal, and don’t have much left before you head to Toronto.”
“I know, but—” She squirmed against his side, taking advantage of him leaning forward to flip pancakes to move away, but his other hand reached out and snagged her wrist, pulling her back against him. “Stop that.”
“No.” He set the spatula down and crowded her against the counter, caging her in with his legs, set wide on either side of hers, and his arms, which bracketed her body. Tan, corded arms, dusted with hair, good enough to eat…Damn. Now she was turned on and pissed off. And his daughter was somewhere in the house.
“Paul, you’re overwhelming me.”
He stilled for a moment, then kissed her, a gentle, restrained reminder of his love. His lips grazed hers, then pressed delicately first on one side of her mouth, then the other. “I’m sorry?”
That did it. That quirky, not-sorry-at-all, cocky-as-all-hell, but also sweet-as-sugar non-apology cut through her panic and made her laugh. “You’re not! God, Paul, my head is spinning.”
“Low blood sugar. We’ll eat some breakfast, then we can talk on the hike.”
“I think we need a bit more privacy…and shouldn’t we have talked about everything before Megan found me in your bed?”
He smirked at her. “I made sure you were decent. She knew you were here, I told her yesterday you’d be sleeping over.”
“But I didn’t know yesterday that I’d be sleeping over!”
“And yet you’re here. In my kitchen, about to eat my pancakes and turkey sausage, so…”
She mock-growled as he stepped away, gesturing widely with his hand as if to say it was her choice to stay or go.
She sat at the table.
He laughed.
She smiled, but waited until he turned back to the skillet.
Paul’s plan for privacy on the hike became obvious when they stopped at Evie’s house on their way to the bluffs and picked up her kids. Connor and Max recognized Paul from a safety presentation he did at their school, and Evie, who looked uncharacteristically tired, repeatedly thanked them for extending the invitation to her boys.
After expertly organizing all three kids across the backseat, Max in his booster seat, and Megan in the middle, each of their backpacks stashed neatly at their feet, Paul merrily navigated to the conservation area parking lot, going over the Hiker’s Code on the way.
Karen was pretty sure he made it up on the spot, but he got immediate buy-in from the kids for always walking with a buddy, staying on the agreed upon marked trails, and doing frequent radio checks. Radio checks?
As they piled out of the car and Paul distributed a small Cobra handset to each kid, then handed one to Karen and clipped his own to his belt, she got it.
The kids took off ahead of them, hollering something about snacks at the first check point. Paul shot her a grin, and she laughed.
“Okay, I get it. We’ll have all the privacy we need to talk.”
“You could add ‘sir’ to that admission,” he teased.
“Not a chance in hell. My inner submissive only comes out when I’m drunk.”
“I’ll keep that in mind for when I want to spank you.” He left her gaping at him as he circled the car to grab his own backpack, then laced his fingers into hers and tugged her toward the trail-head. “Come on, we’ve given them enough of a headstart.”
Neither of them broke the comfortable silence until after the first water break with the kids. They were halfway to Paul’s mysterious destination, which Megan was apparently familiar with, because she scampered ahead with the boys. The trail climbed steadily, with regular wide plateaus that offered glimpses of the lake through the trees, and now that the opportunity had arrived, discussing the mess of the next year was the last thing Karen wanted.
So of course, Paul slowed his pace. “Okay, let’s talk.”
“And ruin our first date? Maybe later.”
“It won't ruin anything.”
“You're sure of yourself.”
Ahead of her, he stopped. His technical t-shirt, stretched tight across his broad shoulders, was dotted with sweat, and when he pulled off his pack and set it against a log, she could see a line straight down to his narrow hips.
On her, the sweaty t-shirt look was probably a mess. On him, it smacked of virility and health.
He turned to face her, and set his hands on his hips. He paused a beat, as if carefully considering what to say. “I'm sure of us.”
“Wow.”
“Is that a good wow?”
“Maybe. Yes.” She stared up the trail. When he said it like that, it all seemed so simple. When she looked at him, radiating confidence, she couldn’t remember why it wasn’t. “Why aren't you scared?”
He shook his head slightly. “I'm scared.”
“Not about us.”
“Not anymore.”
“What are you scared about now?”
“A whole bunch of stuff that isn’t first date conversation material.” He grinned, this time more rueful than confident. “I’m scared I’m pushing you too hard. That we're not going to get past the first date. That my spanking joke turned you off. That you’ll get a job on the other side of the province.”
“I’m coming back.”
“You better. It’ll be embarrassing if I show up somewhere and drag you off, caveman-style.”
She moved closer, wanting to touch him. She drifted her hands across his chest, feeling his nipples bead under his shirt. Licking her lips, she lowered her voice. “The spanking thing…that was just a joke?”
His eyes dilated. “That’s up to you.”
An image of them wrestling popped into her head. It would start playfully, but progress to pinning each other to the bed, grinding and teasing, and then all of a sudden he’d flip her onto his lap. He’d start with a few swats on top of her shorts, but she’d respond, and at her first moan, he’d wrench her shorts down and smooth his hand over her bare bottom.
Heat flooded her core and her cheeks at the same time. Holy hell, she wasn’t ready to ask him to spank her. Instead, she laced her arms around his neck and kissed him until he couldn’t help but be clear on how she felt about that prospect.
“Okay, glad we cleared that up.” He chuckled quietly against her cheek, smoothing his hand up and down her back. “What are you scared of?”
“Being torn between two places. Not giving school my all. Neglecting you and whatever this is between us.”
“Stop saying that.” He rolled his shoulders, as if squaring off for a fight. “’Whatever this is.’ This is a relationship. I’m your boyfriend. In six weeks, you’re going to go away for a
while, and I’ll be your long-distance boyfriend. When you come home on weekends, each visit will further our relationship a little bit, and at some point, I’ll stop being your boyfriend and just be your significant other. In a permanent way.”
“My significant other.” It didn’t quite have the ring of fiancé or husband, but it was the right sentiment. Why did it leave her unsettled?
“Yeah.”
“What does that mean?”
“We’re kind of getting ahead of ourselves here. Maybe we could agree this is actually a relationship before debating what to call the next stage?”
“No!” She shouted the word, all of a sudden shaking with emotion. “That’s the problem. That’s why I said, ‘whatever this is.’ I don’t know what that means. I don’t know where you see us a few months, a year, five years from now. I’m scared that we don’t want the same things. I’m pretty sure that I want to be more than someone’s significant other.”
“What the hell do you think I mean? I love you, Karen!” He wasn’t yelling exactly, but an uncharacteristic frustration crept into Paul’s voice.
“Yeah, well, I love you, too, but that doesn’t mean—” Paul held up his hand and Karen froze.
“You love me?”
She nodded.
“Baby.”
“What?”
“Shut up, that’s what.” With ease, he swept her off the ground and kissed her hard and deep, his tongue gliding hungrily into her mouth. As she slid down his body and found terra firma again with her toes, he pinned her tight against him, where she could feel his cock growing with interest. “You love me?”
“Of course I do.” She licked her lips, part nervous energy, part appreciation for the kiss they just shared.
“And you’re scared.” He shook his head. “Shit, I’ve bungled this.” He kicked his backpack out of the way and pulled them down to sit side-by-side on the log. “When I said significant other, I meant, whatever you want us to be. Every time you come home, we’re going to lie awake in bed and talk about the future, and I’m going to get little clues about you, and hopefully if you want something straight up, you’ll come out and tell me. And I’ll do the same. No limits here. I’m not saying I don’t want to marry you, I just saying that’s your choice.”
“Okay.” She wanted to say more, but her head was swimming and even though they were sitting, she thought it might be possible that she’d pass out.
“You want to talk about any of that now?”
She shook her head. She really liked the idea of it coming out gradually over time.
“Can I share something that I want?”
“Of course.” Relief so sharp she could taste it was rolling through her body. A future they would craft together. Holy crap.
He tugged her hand, pulling her up and onto his lap, holding her hips steady as she straddled him. “One of these days, I want to talk about ditching the condoms.” Between them, his arousal was in full-force. On her hips, his grip tightened. “This is so the wrong place for this conversation, I know, but…”
“No, it’s okay. I’ll look into my options.”
“Something not too long term, maybe.”
It took a moment for his meaning to sink in. Oh. OH. “Yeah?” First she was going to pass out, now she was pretty sure she was going to hyperventilate.
“Would that be okay with you?” His hold on her shifted, his left hand drifting to the small of her back, his right hand coming around, up and under her shirt, to rest on the softness of her belly. Her sex clenched at the thought of taking him inside her, no barrier, and conceiving a child. “I know this is crazy outside the first date zone, but…”
“We’d have to wait until after I start school, and figure out when would be a good time to take a break. But as long as I get my course work done and out of the way…” She leaned forward and gently bit his bottom lip.
“Yeah?” He tipped his head back and howled. How he’d ever gotten so lucky, he’d never figure it out. He didn’t deserve this woman, perched on his lap, willing to give him the world. Hot damn.
“We have to catch up with the kids, who knows what trouble they’ve gotten into, but this is a conversation I want to have again, and again.”
“Yeah? It’s not creepy?” He grinned and pressed a hard, quick kiss on her kips before shifting her backwards with regret. They both glanced at his erection. It was a shame to let that go to waste, but… “On we go. I just need a minute.”
Karen crossed her arms to keep herself from reaching out to him again. Every fibre of her being was vibrating with love and happiness.
“You standing there, pressing your breasts together like that…it’s not helping, ya know?” He groaned as she turned away and before she knew it, his hard body was pressed against her backside. “I like that view just as much. Come on. I’ll think of math, or something.”
When they reached the lookout point, they found the kids relaxing under a tree, eating apples. He dumped his pack next to them and pulled out the sack of peanut butter sandwiches. Karen, though, went straight to the line of boulders that framed the reason why he’d chosen this trail.
“Oh, wow. How did you find this? I’ve lived here my whole life and I had no idea this view was at the top of these trails.” Below them, green treetops tumbled down a ravine, on the other side of which was the lighthouse point, and to the right stretched the town of Wardham, a neat packet of houses on a grid of right-angled streets, dotted here and there with parks and commercial strips. In front of it, along the lake, the public beach, with Lake Erie glittering with the reflection of the mid-day sun.
“Martinez told me. As soon as I saw it, I thought of you.” He lightly rested his hand on her hip, tugging her close without interrupting her awe.
“Seriously, Paul. I’m just…” She pressed her hand against her chest like she was trying to keep her excitement inside and turned her shining face to look straight at him. “This is the best first date. You were right, this is perfect.”
He grinned. “Time for our picture?”
“Wait.” She took both of his hands in hers and squeezed, sending bolts of anticipation up his arms and straight to his heart. “I love you.” She closed her eyes and smiled, then repeated the words, pausing between one. “I. Love. You.”
“You’re not just saying that again because I blew your mind with the view?” He was mostly teasing, but needed to be sure.
“Nuh-uh. When I think of how many different ways we could’ve not ended up here…I want you to know without a doubt how much I love and appreciate you.”
“Now you’re just spoiling me.” He kissed her forehead and pulled out his phone to take a picture.
EPILOGUE
She’d fallen asleep. He didn’t mind, at all, but she wanted to go home.
Not to her room twenty feet away, now occupied by her tenants, and not to his room upstairs, which his inner caveman wanted to drag her up to and never let her out. She wanted to go back to her parents’, where she’d officially moved her stuff at the beginning of August.
Unofficially, half her shit was upstairs. Where it belonged.
“My mom hasn’t slept through the night in a week, it’s like Chase is a freakin’ newborn or something. I don’t have to do anything tomorrow, so I can stay up tonight, give her a break, and then she’ll be in a better mood for the weekend.” Karen had launched into a rant over dinner about her brother being picky, and rejecting the nursing home accommodation he’d lined up. “It was his freakin’ idea in the first place. I don’t know why he couldn’t stay in Phoenix. Or Windsor, for that matter. My parents’ house isn’t a rehab facility.”
Paul had met Grace Miller a few times over the month of August, and never seen her anywhere approaching a bad mood, but he could imagine that things in the Miller house were getting a bit tense. Chase had been back for almost a month. A week after he returned, the same day that Karen moved out of her house, he decided he wanted to stay at the Miller place after all. Karen was displace
d from the main floor guest room, to the loft, which wasn’t the end of the world, but it started a chain reaction of little disgruntlements.
He grinned. He shouldn’t enjoy profiting from the misfortune of others, but it didn’t take long for Karen to start hiding out at his place. She’d slept over more nights than not, and been around for part of the days she still slept away from him.
Life was good.
She shifted in front of him on the couch, and the heavy swell of her breast shifted into the palm of his hand. Life was great. He reached his other arm around her waist, blindly searching for the TV remote.
“Don’t change it, I’m watching that.”
“Your eyes are closed.”
“Resting.” She yawned. “It’s time for me to go, isn’t it?”
“If you want to.”
“Hush. It’s one night. Audrey will be home for the weekend, so I’ll be here every night until I go.”
Five more nights until she loaded up the Camaro and headed up the 401 to Toronto, and a year of school. A year away from him. “Listen, I was thinking. When you come home on the weekends, what do you think about coming home…here?”
She glanced at him over her shoulder. “Are you asking me to move in with you?”
“Yeah. Are you saying yes?” He still had her breast in his hand. He stroked his thumb back and forth over her nipple, enjoying the darkening, glazed-over look she was giving him. Her lips parted, and he rolled her underneath him, holding himself up off the couch until her legs parted and he could settle in his happiest place of all, between them. “Say yes.”
“I would if I could, but I’m being tortured right now.” She panted and arched her back as he bit the tender skin behind her ear.
“I want to know that you’re coming home to me, every time.”
“I am. I will be.” She snaked her hand between them and reached into his jeans. Oh, holy mother of—his eyes rolled back in his head as she did something clever with her thumb.
The torturer becomes the tortured. He groaned, and she caught his eye. Kiss me, she silently begged, and he did, matching the movement of their mouths to that of her hand, building them both to the point of feverish need. They shucked their clothes and he settled upright on the couch, legs splayed wide, and she rode him until they came together.
