Fairytale Not Required

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Fairytale Not Required Page 6

by Stephanie Rowe


  His eyes narrowed, and suddenly the coldness was gone, replaced by a thoughtfulness that sent trepidation through her. “Why aren’t you?”

  “I—” She hesitated, hating the yearning pulsing inside her, the wish to fall into his arms and forget the world. She pushed him away. “Damn you, Jason. I can’t do this.”

  “But you want to.”

  She glanced up at him, saw satisfied conviction on his face, and realized that he wasn’t going to let her go. He didn’t want the moment to end, and he was prepared to make her stay. Fear rippled through her, and she took a step back. She lifted her chin and gave him a defiant glare. “No, I don’t,” she said, managing to keep her voice steady. “If you ask around town, you’ll find out I’m not that kind of girl. I’m not the kind of woman for a man with a son.”

  For a long moment, he simply studied her, and then finally, he nodded. “Okay.”

  Regret coursed through her at his easy acceptance, but she also felt a relief so vast that her body began to tremble. “Okay, then.” She managed a smile and hurried back to her car, suddenly desperate to get away from him and everything that had happened. She had just slid into her seat and was closing the door when Jason grabbed the window frame. Astrid caught her breath in anticipation. “What?”

  He held out his hand, his dark eyes unreadable in the dim light. “The key to my storage shed.”

  “Oh, right.” She let out a breath, fighting off the disappointment, and grabbed the key from the console. She dropped it into his hand so she didn’t have to touch him. “Here. Harlan will be back in a couple days. Call him if you need anything.”

  “Thanks.” Jason stepped back as she started the car. “Just so you know, Astrid…”

  She hesitated at his serious tone. “What?”

  “When I said ‘okay,’ I didn’t mean that I accepted your claim that you weren’t the kind of woman for a man with a kid.”

  She swallowed, her skin suddenly hot. “You didn’t? What did you mean?”

  He grinned. “I meant, okay, I’ll ask around town and find out exactly what kind of girl you are, and then, I’m going to make my own damn decision.” He slammed the door before she could argue, turned and walked back into the house, abandoning her in his own driveway.

  She should be terrified at the thought of what the rumor mill might say about her, but instead, she felt laughter bubbling up in her throat.

  Jason Sarantos was trouble, and trouble was her kind of world.

  But that didn’t mean she was going to sleep with him again. She couldn’t afford it.

  Because it was the God’s honest truth that she wasn’t the kind of woman for a man with a child. Her ex-fiancé may have been a bastard, but he had been absolutely right about her when he’d referenced the ignominy of her past and her background.

  As horrible as it had been to lose her son, she knew that it had been the world’s greatest gift to her son that he had been spared having her as his mother.

  Chapter Six

  It was time for her power outfit.

  Astrid was wearing her most cheerful scarf, half-woven into a thick French braid, as she trotted up the steps of Wright’s the next morning for her daily coffee ritual with Emma and Clare. Clare was off in Portland with Griffin, but at least Emma would be there.

  Astrid had selected her favorite pair of jeans, a hot pink tank top with sparkles, and four different earrings from her inspirational collection adorned her earlobes: love, peace, hope and “girls kick ass,” which was her personal favorite at the moment.

  She’d put on enough makeup to hide the fact she’d spent the night alternating between failing to create a new design and looking up apartment rentals on the internet. She’d failed at both of them, and was now so tired she could barely even think.

  Good. If she was too tired to think, maybe she’d be able to get Jason out of her mind. Jason and his unbelievable lovemaking. Jason and her dream house. Jason and his shadows.

  Jason and his son.

  Argh! Why couldn’t she control her mind? She needed to be a creative, problem-solving genius, not some pathetic female sobbing over dreams and fantasies that were not her life. She was not a dreamer. She was a practical girl, and she knew how to survive.

  Jason simply needed to get out of her mind, and now. Seriously.

  Shoulders back, chin up, Astrid threw open the door to Wright’s and strode into the store. She tossed her hair, shooting her trademark grin at the patrons who were strolling about with their morning coffee, pancakes and Ophelia’s famous muffins, getting their morning dose of gossip before heading out for the day. She was rewarded with a few smiles and a couple of shout-outs about her new scarves, the welcome easing some of the tension in her chest.

  Determined to feel better, Astrid gave Ophelia a cheerful greeting as she picked up the coffee that Ophelia had waiting for her. “Morning, Ophelia.”

  “Wait.” Wearing a red plaid shirt and a pair of jeans that had seen years of washings, Ophelia slapped a tray of scrambled eggs, bacon and a spinach quiche on the counter. “Here’s your breakfast.”

  Astrid’s stomach turned at the sight of all that food. “You know I don’t eat breakfast.”

  “And you know I don’t care. Eat it.” Ophelia held up her hand to stop her. “Wait.” She pulled out a box of Clare’s cupcakes and set a double chocolate fudge with M&Ms on the tray. “You need one of these today. I can tell.”

  “Chocolate?” Well, that was different. She always had room for chocolate. She would have asked how Ophelia had known today was a chocolate day, but there was no point. Ophelia always knew, and that was the way it was. “Okay, thanks.” Astrid picked up the tray and headed across the store toward the corner table, where Emma was already sitting.

  She slid down across from Emma, who was hunched over the table, busily sketching on a small pad with colored pencils. “Hi.”

  Emma looked up from her sketchbook. “Hi—” Her eyes widened as she looked at Astrid, and then her eyebrows shot up. “What happened to you?”

  Astrid grimaced. What was up with Ophelia and Emma’s intuition this morning? Did she have a sticker on her forehead announcing that she’d had sex by the lake yesterday? “Nothing, I—”

  “That’s a total lie.” Emma set her sketchbook down. Her blond hair was up in a loose ponytail, and her white blouse meant she was heading into Portland for work at the museum today. As usual, her only jewelry was a thin silver chain with a tiny emerald on it, and a ring on her right hand that was a simple silver band with a turquoise stone. Her only capitulation to spunk were the triple gold hoops in her ears that had crystal teardrops hanging from them. “Spill, girlfriend. What’s up?”

  Astrid shifted in her chair. A part of her wanted so desperately to tell Emma what had happened with Jason, but she didn’t know how to confess. She was so used to being on her own and pretending to be fine, that she didn’t have any clue how to open the female bonding door. Plus, what would Emma think if Astrid told her she had slept with a total stranger? She still couldn’t believe it. She hadn’t been with a man since Paul. To fall into Jason’s arms was so not in her character, despite what people might think. She sighed, and decided not to broach the topic. “You don’t know of any rentals in town, do you? Super cheap.”

  Emma gave her a sympathetic grimace. “I heard about you being evicted. That’s a total bummer, but at the same time, you do deserve better than living over a mechanic’s shop.”

  Astrid raised her brows. “You’ve been talking to Eppie?”

  “Who hasn’t been talking to Eppie?” Emma closed her sketchbook and leaned back in her chair. She folded her arms over her chest and gave Astrid a thoughtful look. “Seriously, Astrid, what are you going to do? Did you find anything?”

  “No, but I’m sure I will. I have three weeks.” But she knew it would be difficult. Her budget was almost nothing, and the only reason she’d been able to snag her current place was because the ancient landlord was still charging the same rent that
he’d been charging since he’d bought the place thirty-five years ago.

  “Well, you have a little extra money, right? Since you’re not leasing workspace from Clare?”

  “Yes, sure.” Astrid didn’t feel like explaining to Emma that with the decline in her jewelry business lately, she would have had to cut that expense from her budget anyway. There was no sense in dwelling. The only logical thing to do was to figure out how to fix her situation, hence her all night party with her jewelry and apartment listings. Yes, total failure so far, but she still had three weeks. And honestly, the whole thing with Jason was seriously distracting her from her work and living crisis. She was so undone by what had happened, and had no clue how to go forward. She cocked her head and looked at Emma. “Can I ask you something?”

  “Sure.” Emma plucked an M&M off Astrid’s cupcake. “What’s up?”

  “Would you ever consider dating again?” Astrid didn’t know the exact details of Emma’s past, but she knew that something had gone horribly wrong with her marriage before she’d returned to Birch Crossing, where she’d grown up with Clare.

  Emma’s face paled, and she shook her head. “No way. I’m done.” She held up her sketchbook. “This is who I sleep with at night, and that’s the way it’s going to be.”

  A book? Really? Astrid leaned forward. “But, don’t you ever miss being held by a man? Don’t you ever have moments when you wonder what it would be like if you met the right guy?” She hadn’t thought she longed for intimacy, and she’d never spent nights imagining what it would be like to find a knight in shining armor. She’d been at peace with her life…until yesterday. Until Jason had reminded her of how beautiful it could be to feel cherished by a man. Was she wrong thinking that she could go through the rest of her life alone?

  Emma sighed and set down her notebook. “I used to have that dream, and that’s why I made the mistake I did when I got married. I wanted to be loved and taken care of so badly, Astrid. I wanted a family so desperately that I made myself blind to the truth and convinced myself that marrying Howard was the right choice. I’ll never make that mistake again. Ever.”

  Astrid bit her lip and leaned back in her seat, knowing that was exactly what she’d done with Paul. She’d wanted the fairy tale. She’d wanted to be rescued from her life, and because of that, she’d made herself vulnerable to the wrong man and been burned terribly. She’d thought she’d learned her lesson, but even after all that, she’d almost made the same mistake again. For that brief moment with Jason, she’d almost let that same fantasy trick her into wanting too much, into allowing herself to feel the need for a man and a connection. With a sigh, she raised her coffee mug. “Some of us are just destined to be independent goddesses, don’t you think?”

  Emma grinned and tapped her coffee against Astrid’s. “Amen, sistah. Listen, when we’re both old and doddery, we’ll be the ones running around taking cruises in the Bahamas, while Clare will be stuck taking care of Griffin and pushing him around in his wheelchair so he can stock the shelves at Wright’s.”

  Astrid laughed at the image of Griffin, who was a total male specimen, in a wheelchair. “So true. We have the freedom to live our lives the way we want without being accountable to anyone.”

  “Exactly.” Emma grinned. “After all, just look at Eppie. After her husband died thirty-five years ago, she took over the whole damn town. The woman vibrates with life, right?”

  “This is true.” Astrid took a deep breath, feeling better. Emma was right. She was just fine on her own, and she had the freedom to take her life in any direction. She could go live in a hovel if she wanted to, because she didn’t have to worry about taking care of a child or impressing a man. There had to be some condemned rental somewhere that she could live in, right? She didn’t need much. Just a bathroom and enough light to work on her jewelry. “Total freedom.”

  “Of course.” Emma grinned. “So, did I tell you what I decided last night?”

  Astrid shook her head. “That you’re going to quit that tour guide job you hate in Portland and start trying to sell your amazing artwork?”

  “God, no. My creativity would dry up if I had the pressure of supporting myself with it.”

  Um…yeah…Astrid could relate to that. “But it’s worth it—”

  “I have to tell you what I decided.” Emma leaned forward, her eyes glistening. “I can’t believe I’m going to do this, but I’m going to—”

  “Good morning, ladies.” Eppie pulled up a chair and plunked herself down between them. “You two are just the women I wanted to see.” Eppie was wearing a lavender and pale yellow sundress with a matching necklace, each bead almost as large as her fist. Her bright yellow and red polka dotted hat should have been a gross insult to the dress, but somehow, she made it work. She set a digital camera on the table. “You girls know how to work one of these, right?”

  “Of course.” Astrid chuckled and picked it up. “Eppie has gone digital. I love it.”

  “Yes, well, a woman must evolve if she’s going to stay current.” Eppie set her hand on the back of Emma’s chair and gave the camera a seductive smile, tossing her head so that her loon earrings banged gently against her wrinkled cheek. “Take a picture, Astrid.”

  Astrid raised her brows at Emma, but obligingly took a picture of the seventy-something woman.

  “And another.” Eppie changed her pose, lifting her chin and giving the camera a haughty look.

  Astrid took another one, and then six more while Eppie went through an assortment of poses. “What’s this for, Eppie?”

  “Online dating.”

  Emma burst out laughing, and Astrid almost dropped the camera. “What? Seriously?”

  “Of course.” Eppie shot them both looks of disdain. “What? You think that just because I’m seventy-two I don’t have a need for some hot loving? A girl can be independent for only so long.” She stretched back in her seat, giving both younger women a satisfied smile. “I’ve had my fun, girls, and it’s time to get a younger man to take care of me as I start to get older. A woman has to plan for these things, you know.”

  Astrid frowned. “But I thought you loved being single.”

  “There’s a time and place for everything, Astrid, and the time has come for this sexpot to settle down.” Eppie picked up the camera. “So, which one of you sparkling young things is going to meet me here at four o’clock today to show me how to use my new computer and get this loveforever.com thing started?”

  Emma grinned cheerfully. “I have to be at work until six. Astrid? Are you around?”

  As if she could deal with trying to get Eppie dating. She needed to get away from that scene, not involved in it. “I’m trying to find a place to live—”

  “Nonsense. You can’t do that all damn day.” Eppie nodded. “It’s a date. Four o’clock. I’ll bring the beer. All you have to do is show up. Got it?” Before Astrid could reply, Eppie snapped her fingers. “I almost forgot, Astrid. I talked to Sam today, your landlord, in case you failed to retain that information. He said he got your message about wanting to stay in the apartment.”

  Astrid sat up, her heart racing. “He did? What did he say?”

  “That you need to get a life. Living in his apartment is not the life for a sweet young thing like you.”

  Astrid stared at Eppie, her heart sinking. “Sam would never say that.”

  Eppie laughed and slapped her thigh. “Okay, you got me, I talked him into it, but he agreed it sounded good.” She pushed back from the table. “Get a new place, Astrid. Live a little. You’re turning into a shriveled old prune and that would just be a terrible shame for a gal with your zest.”

  “A prune?” Astrid stared at Eppie. “I’m not a prune.” Yes, she might be creatively drained and sleeping alone every night, but she worked extremely hard to stay fired up about life. A prune was something that was shriveling and dying. Not her!

  “Actually, it’s not a bad analogy,” Emma said. “Compared to when I met you a year ago, you’re a
little prunish.”

  “What?” Astrid sat up straighter, shocked by their comments. “How can you say that?”

  “Ophelia!” Eppie shouted across the store. “Is Astrid turning into a prune?”

  “She wouldn’t if she’d eat some damn breakfast once in a while,” Ophelia yelled back.

  Eppie shrugged. “See? Prune.” Then her eyes gleamed and she turned on her camera. “Oh, I just had the most brilliant stroke of genius. Let’s both go on loveforever.com. I’ll spring for your membership fee. That’ll be your payment for helping me.”

  “Oh, no—” Astrid winced as Eppie took a picture. “Eppie, stop!”

  “One more. Smile,” Eppie commanded. “Men prefer a woman who looks happy.”

  Happy? She was supposed to put on a show to attract a man? Not that Jason had needed fake happy. She’d been overwhelmed with her life when he’d come out to see her on that rock, and she knew it was their shadows that had brought them together. Not all men were so superficial that they needed some woman who was so shallow that all she could do was giggle. Jason had appreciated her. Not that she wanted him. Or anyone. “Dammit, Eppie. I’m not going to fake it for a man.”

  “Faking it? Who said anything about faking it?” Eppie’s well-plucked eyebrows shot up. “Hell, Astrid, if a man isn’t good enough to give you a real one, he doesn’t deserve to have his ego stoked with a faked orgasm. Make him earn every compliment he gets.”

  Emma almost snorted her coffee, and Astrid would have laughed at the irony of a senior citizen lecturing her about faking orgasms if she weren’t so strung out. “Eppie, please leave me out of this.” Astrid shoved back from the table. “I don’t want anyone. I’m just done. I’m not ready.”

  “Ready?” Eppie leapt on the word. “Ready since what? What did a man do to you, Astrid? What are you so afraid of?”

  Astrid met Emma’s gaze, and saw an empathy so deep it made her throat tighten. Emma understood. They didn’t know each other’s pasts, but Emma understood. For a moment, a real smile flashed on Astrid’s face, and she suddenly didn’t feel so alone.

 

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