by Freya Barker
“Happy Birthday!” The loud cheer startles Ole, who is nestled in Sandy’s arms, and he promptly bursts out crying. It gets everyone moving. Jordy is first, giving her brother a big hug and kiss before directing her attention to her son. It’s a bit of chaos with everyone talking at once. There are hugs, handshakes, and shoulder claps; through it all I see Jared’s eyes searching, until he finds me.
Half-hidden on the far side of the kitchen, leaning against the corner beside the fridge, I smile at the determination in his eyes as he untangles himself from the well-wishers and stalks in my direction. His hand reaches out and cups my jaw before it slides to the back of my neck, pulling me close. Both of my hands automatically come up to rest on his chest.
“Love you more,” he says, resting his forehead against mine and letting me read the depth of his feelings in his eyes.
“Not possible,” I whisper, while wrapping my arms around his neck and burying my face under his chin.
“I have everything I need right here,” he rumbles in my hair, before continuing in a lighter tone. “Although, could’ve done without LeBlanc pawing my sister.”
I bark out a laugh and slap his shoulder. “Behave.”
“Okay, this kid is sucking the energy out of me,” Jordy calls out, and I twist my head in her direction. “Can somebody please feed me before I waste away?”
-
Jared closes the door when the lights of Brian’s car have disappeared over the hill.
“Best birthday ever,” he says, turning to me with a smile.
“Trust me, brother,” Jordy says as she walks up with John right behind her, carrying Ole in his seat. “It’s gonna get even better.”
“Where are you off to?” Jared wants to know.
“I’m going with John. I’ll catch you guys tomorrow.” She winks at me right before she pulls the door shut behind them.
That’s my cue.
Jared
“Thank you.”
Mia turns around from the sink with a smile.
The whole night—hell, the whole day—had been a great experience. The eager energy during practice, in the meetings, and during warm-up had been a charge in the air. One I thought I wouldn’t feel again, but dammit if it didn’t settle under my skin the moment the puck dropped. Those kids worked like beasts these past few days, and the payoff had been at least as sweet for me as it was for them.
But nothing tasted sweeter than Mia’s mouth during second intermission.
I care little about my birthday. Haven’t since I was maybe twelve years old, and Marina Yates told me happy birthday, just before she flashed her boobs at me behind the gym during recess. That had stayed the highlight throughout high school and into my years in the OHL. Each year after that, I’d be so focused on the next season, there just wasn’t time. Then my parents died and it never felt worth celebrating, no matter how hard my sister tried.
Mia’s kiss at the arena blew Marina’s boobs clear off the map. No match.
“Don’t thank me, most of it was your sister’s idea. The woman is a machine when she gets her sights on something,” she says, wiping her hands on a towel before hanging it back up. She tries to move past me, out of the kitchen, when I snag her wrist in my hand.
“It was you who walked into that arena, facing what must’ve been every single possible trigger, and obliterating them.” I pull her against me. “And you did it for me,” I add, my voice hoarse. I want her to know what it meant to have her waiting for me.
These past few weeks, I’ve tried in different ways to show her how much she means, and it’s humbled me to see how easy it was to please her. Just sending a text during a busy day, putting a travel mug of coffee by the bed, feeding the dog, or even squeezing toothpaste on her toothbrush and leaving it ready for her to use. Each little gesture was noticed and she showed me her appreciation every time. Yet, it all pales in comparison with what she did for me today.
“I did it for both of us,” she says, slipping her arms around my waist, and tilting her head back to look up at me. “But I would never have even considered it, if it wasn’t for you. So maybe I should thank you.”
Christ. This woman.
She trails her fingers along my jaw and down my bobbing Adam’s apple as I strangle down the lump in my throat.
“Ready for bed?” she asks with a teasing glint, and I can only imagine what other things she has planned for me tonight.
“Only if you’ll be in it,” I retort with a predatory grin.
She doesn’t say anything, just turns toward the bedroom, pulling me along by the hand, flicking off lights as we go. I follow willingly, and despite being bone-tired, my cock hardens in anticipation. Clearly more alert than the rest of me.
The moment I step into the dark bedroom behind her, my senses heighten. I’m sure part of it is the way she walks up to the bed and slowly turns back the covers. But there’s something else, a feeling something is off. Or maybe just different. I notice her hand shaking when she reaches over to flick on the bedside lamp on her side of the bed.
Is she nervous?
That’s when I spot a picture frame at the base of the lamp in the soft glare. One that hadn’t been there this morning. My eyes start traveling and I see more. Sheets I swear I’ve seen before—but on Mia’s bed at the cottage. A pillow tossed casually on the club chair in the corner. A print over the fireplace that had previously hung over Mia’s bed.
It’s not until I see her threadbare robe, hanging on the bathroom door, that the significance of what I’m seeing registers.
Mia
I can tell the moment he realizes.
His back snaps straight and his mouth falls open as he slowly turns to face me. I have my fists clenched by my side. It is a ballsy move. Way out of my comfort zone, but Jordy had assured me he would be over the moon. I can’t really tell from the shocked look he’s sending me.
I startle when he swings around and yanks open the door to the walk-in closet, flicking on the light switch. Next he stomps to the single dresser in the room and starts yanking open the drawers. My nerves swirl to a pitch when he grabs a handful of my underwear before letting them fall back. His head drops low on his chest, and all I can see is the tension rippling over the muscles of his back.
“I...I’m...” I stammer, my voice sounds almost shrill against the thick silence shrouding the room.
“Don’t,” he growls in response, and I snap my mouth closed.
Fuck. Did I mess up? Was it too fast? A mistake? Maybe Jordy doesn’t know her brother as well as she thinks she does.
The second and third thoughts are still bouncing around in my head when I find myself flying, landing on my back on the bed, with Jared’s weight pinning me down, and his mouth hungrily attacking mine.
Ah. Not a mistake.
Not the way he is devouring my body with his hands and stealing my breath with his kiss. I finally have to tilt my head back to get some air.
“For real?” The question is muffled against the soft divot between my collarbones, where his mouth has travelled.
“Mmmm,” is all I can manage as my shirt is tugged up and his big hands curve around my breasts, plumping them up. His mouth is close behind, closing over one and then the other, sucking my nipples deep into his mouth.
“Beautiful? You’re here?” he asks, lifting his head slightly, waiting for an answer. His full, half-open mouth is wet, and his eyes—normally a clear steel blue—are now almost indigo, as they burn into mine. I take in a deep breath before I trust myself to answer.
“I am.”
“Fuck me.” He does a face-plant in my cleavage and mumbles something intelligible. All I can hear is, “...better than...” and then what sounds like a girl’s name, before he lifts his head up, and grins from ear to ear.
“Best—fucking—birthday—ever.”
I don’t even bother asking who Marina is.
THIRTY-FOUR
Two months later
Jared
It’s re
ally fucking cold out.
We’ve been spoiled with a gorgeous Indian summer. Temperatures that had me out in shirtsleeves until almost the middle of October. It wasn’t my first time seeing the leaves change. I’m Canadian—I was raised on it. But driving through, or seeing it in pictures or on film does not compare, even a little, to living in the middle of the most vivid colours nature can produce.
The past months have been pretty damn amazing. Save for few panicked calls from Jordy, when our resident bear ventured a little too close to the cottage in its quest to fatten up for the winter. She lives there now; in the cottage. Another one of the girls’ schemes.
The morning after my birthday, John had brought her and Ole home, only to help her pack the rest of her things. She needed some time to find her own feet, she’d said. I wasn’t too excited, at first, at the prospect of not having her or Ole around. But then Mia pointed out she’d be just a short walk away, and that I’d be able to keep an eye on her from the damn window.
Not that she needed me to. Not anymore. Ole’s sperm donor had signed off on his parental rights, just last week, and LeBlanc’s truck is in her driveway more often than not. I’m pretty sure he won’t waste too much time before he moves her into his place. Not going to like that much either, but I have to agree that it would be much easier once Ole is old enough for school. I guess LeBlanc is growing on me.
It’s been a pretty damn good summer and fall. But with the season’s first two feet of snow expected over the weekend, winter is here.
I yank my beanie down over my ears a little more before taking another sip of my coffee. Mia makes fun of me when I tell her winter doesn’t scare me; that I’ll continue to drink my morning coffee outside. And I do, albeit on the steps, a little closer to the house, but still overseeing our little corner of the lake. I glance over my shoulder to where I know she is enjoying hers, looking out the window from the comfort of our living room couch. Probably laughing her ass of at my blue lips.
The first flakes of snow drifting down and melting in my cup of coffee get me moving. Mia’s soft laughter greets me as I pull the door closed behind me.
“Giving up already?”
I shrug out of my leather jacket and hang it on the hook by the door, yanking off my beanie and stuffing it in a pocket.
“Nope,” I lie. “I need a refill.”
“Liar,” she grins, peering at me over the rim of her mug.
The closed off and painfully private woman has certainly come out of her shell, since I met her. She’s taken to being almost as much of a smartass Jordy is. The smile looks good on her.
She’s been a bit quiet this past week and I wonder if the occasional work she’s taken on through Dr. Winters, Jordy’s OBGYN, is proving to be too much for her. He’d asked her to provide some in-home support for some of his patients. Mostly women at risk for postpartum depression, something she tells me is more prevalent than most people know. Especially for women who live a little further off the grid and who lack social contact.
It had seemed like a good idea. Mia certainly was eager, and knowing how much she missed her lost career, I had been a strong supporter. She wouldn’t have to go into town and risk running into crowds. Doc Winters sends the files via email and it’s up to Mia to make contact with the patients.
The only near argument we had, was when I insisted we get her a new, more reliable vehicle, since her RAV was well beyond its expiration date. I only got my way because the damn thing had broken down one night, when she was on her way back from a patient in crisis.
She was stranded on an unlit dirt road, in the middle of nowhere, and could barely dial my number for help. By the time I found her, she was in the unrelenting hold of a massive panic attack. It took me half an hour to talk her down far enough so I could buckle her in my passenger seat and take her home.
I’d called for a tow the next morning and had them drag the car straight to the wrecking yard. We bought her a new RAV later that afternoon.
“What time is your appointment this afternoon?” I ask as I sink down in the couch beside her, putting my hand on her knee.
“Seeing Rueben at one first, but I might pop in on a patient afterwards. I’ll probably be home around four?”
“Sounds good.” I squeeze her leg, pleased to know she’s seeing her therapist. I’ve asked a few times if she was okay, only to have her tell me she’s fine. I lean over to kiss her neck. “I’ve gotta go, Beautiful. I may beat you home. Need me to pick anything up?”
“Don’t think so. I’ll get stew going in the crockpot before I go.”
“Perfect for this cold-ass weather,” I mutter, as I stand to bundle up again to go out there.
Mia’s chuckles follow me all the way out the door.
Mia
“How is that even possible?”
The family doctor Rueben referred me to, in the same building, just chuckles as she washes her hands at the small sink.
“Do you really need me to explain it to you?”
I’m in shock.
I’m not an idiot. I’ve known something was up for over a week, but when you’ve known something to be outside of your possibilities for over a decade, it’s hard to even consider it. Menopause seemed a more acceptable explanation than this.
I don’t know what to make of it and I sure as hell don’t how Jared will react. It changes everything. Doesn’t it?
I can feel it crawling under my skin, as my breathing grows more rapid and my pulse starts pounding in my ears.
“Easy,” the doctor says as she pulls a Doppler out of a drawer. She puts the earbuds attached in and glides the wand over my stomach. “Breathe in through your nose and out through your mouth. Nice and easy.” Easier said than done, but I try anyway. “Ahhh, there it is,” she says with a smile, as she pulls the earphones from the small device. A strong steady heartbeat fills the small examination room.
“Maybe you should,” I tell her in a shaky voice. “Explain it to me, that is.”
-
“How is that even possible?”
I wasn’t ready to go home yet. I thought I’d been prepared, especially after voicing my suspicions out loud to Rueben for the first time. He’d just seemed happy and immediately called his colleague to see if she could slip me in.
Funny how I told Jared I’d probably not be home until four, giving myself the extra time I somehow knew I’d need, despite still being in full denial.
When I left the doctor’s office, I drove right by the turnoff to Spence Lake, and I didn’t stop until I got to Gravenhurst, where I pulled into the almost empty parking lot at the wharf. Not many folks here in the winter. During the summer and fall months, this place would be packed, and I’d avoid it like the plague. Now the Segwun, North America’s oldest, working steamship, is docked for the winter.
Going on one of its dinner cruises during the fall is on my bucket list, and somehow it seemed fitting to come here. Who knows, with the way my life keeps throwing me these wildcards, I might just do this one day as well.
“Mia?” Steffie’s voice drags me back to the conversation.
“I don’t know,” I finally answer, but my wobbly voice betrays me.
“Oh, honey,” she coos. “Want me to come up? I can move my last appointment easily and be up there in a couple of hours.”
Tempting. So very tempting, and only a few months ago, I would’ve probably taken her up on it, but that’s not me anymore.
“I’m okay. I’m forty-two years old, I should damn well be okay with this. Even if it scares the shit out of me.”
“Are you gonna be upset if I happy-squeal?” Steffie whispers, making me laugh, despite the tears coursing down my face.
“Not like I can stop you.” My words are barely out when I have to hold my phone away from my ear. Steffie takes squealing seriously.
“Jared will be over the moon,” she says when she finally settles down.
“God, I hope so.” I’m not quite as confident as she seems.
&n
bsp; “Bullocks. Nothing makes a man happier than to hear his swimmers went further than any man’s have gone before.”
-
Jared doesn’t make it home before I do, so by the time his lights come down the driveway, I’ve been wringing my hands and doing my breathing exercises. Although admittedly, I’m not sure at this point if I’m trying to stave off a panic attack, a bout of manic hysteria, or just an everyday nervous breakdown. It’s a toss up.
The moment he walks in, he knows.
Well, he doesn’t know, know, but his eyes never leave mine, even as he toes off his boots and shrugs out of his coat. He doesn’t say anything. Not until he makes his way over, sits down beside me, and pulls me straight onto his lap. Then he talks.
“Tell me.”
He’s scared, I can hear it in his voice, and realize in that moment that I should’ve talked about my concerns with him sooner. He’s made it clear he’s been worried.
“Nothing bad,” I hurry to reassure him, twisting on his lap so I can cup his face, the scruff on his jaw rasping against my palms as he grinds his teeth.
“Tell me,” he repeats.
“I’m pregnant.”
My heart is pounding in my throat, and it’s even harder saying it out loud to Jared than it was when I told Steffie. Other than the tightening of his grip on my hips, sure to leave a bruise or two, he hasn’t reacted.
“Jared?”
“How?” he finally whispers. “How is that even possible?”
I almost laugh, wondering how many more will blurt out that question.
“I don’t know.” I start carefully. The truth is I don’t. Not really. “I never lied to you. I was told years ago it wasn’t in the cards for me, and I never had reason to question that. I tried to get pregnant again after I miscarried my first time, but never did. I—” Jared’s sharp shake of the head has me swallow my ramblings.
“That’s not what I mean,” he bites off between clenched teeth, sounding like he’s barely containing his anger. His eyes are turned down, but when he lifts them up to meet mine, it’s clear anger is not the emotion he’s trying to contain. “What I mean to say is; how is it possible that when I thought I already had everything—beyond anything I could ever have conjured up—there is more yet?”
