by J. M. Dabney
“Excited that Miles is coming home tomorrow?”
“Yes. Phone calls aren't enough and fall break was too fucking short, but he's doing so good.”
“Of course he is,” Bret said as he spun in her embrace.
She tilted her head all the way back to place her chin on his chest. Just like with the house it was also weird to think that Bret was hers as well. She rolled her eyes as he tugged the hair tie from her bun. His hands sunk into her hair and shook out the tangled curls.
Bret was obsessed with her hair, well, he loved everything about her and Bret made her feel good and adored. She was still awed by Bret. He didn't hesitate to show or tell her how much she meant to him.
“You should leave your hair down.”
“What is your obsession with my hair?”
“These curls. They look so sexy wrapped around my fingers.”
“Sweet talker,” she said as she lifted onto her toes and brushed a kiss to the firm curves of his mouth. “Having me around cramping your style yet?”
Bret's palm connected with her ass and she yelped.
“Don't even think it. I waited a long damn time to get you into my house.”
She hated to bring it up, but it was bothering her a bit. Rumors in small towns could ruin reputations. “People are talking around town.”
“And what they're saying doesn't matter. Yes, unconsciously my interest was probably there before you turned eighteen, but, baby, you were out of school. Taking care of Miles, working your ass off and it—”
“We know the truth, and it shouldn't matter. Yet, you're the principal, and I don't like their speculation.”
“There's no one else for me, Philly.”
“I never noticed you dating anyone.”
She wouldn't admit it, but she'd prepared herself for the moment when Bret would start dating and bring someone else into the diner with him. See them around town, doing all those couple things that she’d imagined doing with him.
“That's because I always went out of town and picked up someone for a night. I don't like talking about past—”
She chuckled and shook her head. “Bret, you're almost fifty. I in no way thought you'd gone all that time without finding someone to fuck. I'm also not the jealous sort. Yes, I don't like when someone makes eyes at my man, but how can I protest?” She stroked her nails down his cotton covered chest. “You're a very sexy man, but why only pick up women from out of town?”
“Because I knew that the only woman I wanted to spend my life with was you and when I thought about finding someone permanent that wasn't you…” Bret sighed and tightened his hands in her hair. “It didn't feel right or natural. If you'd only shown a modicum of interest, I would've claimed you instantly.”
“You really felt like that?”
“Absolutely. This is us, Philly, no one else knows how we feel. Their opinions won't shape or deconstruct what we have. What we have is the truth. What they say is twisted concepts of that. I won't give you up because of lies. You're mine, have been since the moment I looked at you and you were the joyful perfection that made me realize just how empty and superficial my life was.”
“Superficial?”
She tensed for a minute as he picked her up and set her on the counter. Bret nudged her knees apart with his hips and tenderly kissed her. His gorgeous lips in a half smile.
“Yes, pretending that I didn't want you and Miles. That I wasn't starved for a family. Every school event I went to since Miles started kindergarten, I wanted to be in the seat next to you. Experiencing the moments as proud parents and not some acquaintance or casual friend. That's something I will always regret.”
“No regrets. Moments, Bret, just moments. We're good. Everything happened when it was supposed to and yes I wish that this happened sooner, but regret won't change that it didn't.”
“Are you still going to want me when I'm old and gray, sporting a belly and have saggy—”
She couldn't contain her laughter. “Shut up. You're already”—She traced the gray at his temples—“gray. They're nuts, and they've always sagged, so not pretty. And, sweetie, you're already old, I mean, can we say middle-aged?”
She snorted as he stumbled back holding his chest and hit the counter.
“When did my man turn into an idiot?”
“About the time you said my balls weren't pretty.”
“But you blinged out your dick, so it just makes the nuts look all homely, maybe you should think about a few baubles for the balls. Your balls are like the ugly wingmen.”
“I think I may need to rethink this relationship thing.”
“Too late, dude, I've already moved my shit in and, well, you being old, I mean, come on, your options are limited.”
“Now, you're just being mean.”
“Aw, come here.” She leaned forward from her perch on the counter and grabbed his t-shirt. She tugged Bret back between her legs. Her lips nipped at his sexy pout. “You know I adore you.”
“Your recent words tell me otherwise.”
“So sensitive.”
“I'm not, I'm supposed to be manly and stoic, the perfect Alpha male.”
“So Alpha, it's swoon-worthy.” She raised her arm to place the back of her hand to her forehead and pretended to faint. Spreading out on the island.
“Smartass.”
She loved her new normal. Bret was always up for a laugh. Of course they fought and disagreed, but the man was downright perfect. She found their silliness comforting. Her love for Bret was strong. She just wished that she wasn't so terrified of uttering the words. It was always there on the tip of her tongue. The profoundness of the moment rendered her speechless because that simple sentence had the power to change it all. Bret deserved the words. If anyone was worthy of them, Bret was, and it made her feel like a bitch because she couldn't say them.
“You know that's the reason you love me most.” She sat up and draped her arms over his shoulders, smiling up at him.
“Oh no, first thing I noticed about you was this”—he grabbed her ass in both hands—“sexy ass stretching the skirt of your waitress uniform.”
“Really? Is that the first thing you noticed? My ass that fat, Mr. Stoker?”
“Yes, and so, so perfect.” Bret squeezed her cheeks and pulled her closer to the edge of the counter.
“You're such an asshole.”
“Why? Because I don't think I've seen a woman with a body as perfect as yours?”
“I'm more than a sexy body, Mr. Stoker.”
“Yes, you are.”
She didn't have many insecurities about her body, but Bret had a way of stroking her ego. Bret never said anything he didn't mean. The honesty between them was refreshing. She didn't have to censor or think about what she should or shouldn't say. The only thing she regretted was not being able to be honest with him about something as important as her feelings for him. Bret deserved better than that.
She was huddled in the guest bathroom instead of the one in Bret and her room. The small rectangle box on her lap was still unopened because she was terrified. It figured her first drive on her own would be out of town for a pregnancy test. When Miles was a year old, she'd started the birth control pills to control her periods. She'd never missed a day in her life. Popped that pill like clockwork even though it had nothing to do with stopping pregnancy, but she was on her third month without a period. She hadn't had morning sickness with Miles until well into the fourth month.
She'd noticed her missed periods but contributed it to stress with Miles going away to school and the holidays, not to mention Murphy had decided that staying in Brand was a good idea. Seeing him every day, coming into the diner, and Gladys had asked did she want him banned. She could deal.
Right then, she had bigger problems. These things had gotten fancier since she'd taken one last. Last time it was piss on a stick and look for one or two lines. She'd bought three, all different kinds.
Her and Bret had talked about a lot of things. Thei
r life together. Her taking classes online. They'd even talked about getting married one day. She wasn't really in a rush for that. Not that she wasn't in love with Bret. She just wasn't one who required all those vows and shit.
Luckily, it was her day off, and Bret was busy with the upcoming Christmas break. Time to piss on the stick. She ripped open the box and read the directions, then she stood and undid her jeans pushing them down.
I can do this. Philly kept telling herself as she took the test that it was just stress and she was worried for nothing. She finished and placed the cap back on. Then she busied herself washing her hands and trying to ignore the elephant in the room.
She looked into the mirror to study her face. The prominent, dark circles under her eyes were getting darker. She understood nothing was a hundred percent effective, and it would figure her first sexual relationship would end with her knocked up.
It wasn't as if she didn't know she could make it on her own with a baby. She'd done quite well with just her and Miles. She pushed a heavy breath passed her lips.
“You're a grown ass woman, Philly, how the fuck did you get into this position?” She asked her reflection.
She raised her hand to place it on her rounded belly. She loved being a mother. Maybe Bret didn't want kids. She'd understand if he didn't. Bret was almost fifty. He seemed happy with just the two of them and being Miles' stepdad, but dealing with an infant, no sleep—she dropped her chin to her chest. She deeply inhaled through her nose, slowly exhaled through her mouth. Then she repeated until that quickly forming ball in the pit of her stomach eased.
She picked up the test and stared at it. The display mocked her with what she'd already known. Now, how the fuck was she going to tell Bret that he was going to be a Daddy?
His Woman was Acting Weird
The months had passed, and their relationship moved along quickly. But still, Philly seemed to be holding back. Trust didn't come quickly for Philly, and he understood that. That in no way made it easier for him to accept. He loved her and wanted to say the words. He made sure Philly knew how he felt in the way he treated her. Philly would always know she was the most important person in his life.
Bret smiled as he watched Philly over the rim of his coffee mug. For almost eighteen years, he sat in his favorite booth and studied her as she worked. She took care of the customers with a smile on her face and an easy laugh. It didn't hurt she was hot as fuck in that old-fashioned uniform. Philly had found herself bent over the seat of his pickup more than once on their way home where he'd pulled off into a secluded spot.
He couldn't get enough. Just the moments he could touch her were enough. The nights he held her as she slept were heaven. When he looked back over his life, he couldn’t remember a happier time. He glanced out the window at the heavy snowfall. It was the beginning of December, and they were planning to spend their first Christmas together. He couldn't wait to spend the day with Philly and Miles.
Miles had come home a week earlier. The boy was getting settled into his new home. Thanksgiving break hadn't given him much time to turn his room at the ranch into his own.
“More coffee,” Philly asked.
He turned his head and smiled up at her as he slid his mug away so she had to lean over the table. Her small breast brushed against his cheek, and he slipped his arm around her. He spun enough to pull her down on his thigh and took advantage, brushing a kiss to the side of her neck.
“I'm working.”
“I'm aware. I've been staring at that ass for an hour.”
“You're obsessed, Principal Stoker.”
He tightened his arm and groaned. He didn't know what it was about her calling him that that turned him on instantly. Philly knew it too. He'd left earlier to get some work done on the ranch but came back to wait for her to get off work. She'd gotten her license a few weeks ago, but he didn't like her driving in the snow. Philly didn't argue, and even if she had, he would've still strongly suggested he pick her up and drop her off.
The chime sounded, and he felt her tense. He darted a glance toward the door, and he clenched his teeth as he saw Murphy enter. How the fuck Murphy arranged for him to serve out the rest of his probation in Brand was a mystery to him. Philly tried to pretend that the man being around didn't bother her. Yet he knew it did. Miles wasn't any happier than him to know the fucker was back in town. Philly wasn't alone often.
“Why don't you take Gladys up on her offer of banning him?”
“Because I'm a grown ass woman, and he's not going to scare me. I hate that he's here, but it's a small town. Either I can let him think he has the power to hurt me or I can focus on the life I have with Miles and you. I'd rather focus on the latter. First time he touches me though, and he's getting a lapful of hot coffee.”
“I understand that. I respect your decision, and I'm proud of you, baby girl.”
He brushed his mouth gently to her small smile. He raised his hand to brush his thumb across the darkness under her right eye.
“You look tired, baby.”
Philly had been exhausted lately and was acting a bit odd. He didn't like that he felt she was hiding something from him. They'd agreed to be honest with each other.
“It's nothing. I'm fine, I promise. I'm excited to spend time with Miles and Christmas is coming up.”
He closed his eyes as Philly stroked his hair and a heavy sigh slipped past his lips.
“And you know, this is the only place that doubles in business during the holidays.”
“I know, but will you think about cutting down to part-time when you start school?”
Her working less when she decided to take classes was the quickest way to piss his woman off. Philly didn’t understand why he wanted her to work less.
“Why? I'm going to be taking online classes.”
“You deserve to relax, Philly, and—”
Philly stood up, but he grabbed her before she could walk away. He pulled Philly back to him, and he noticed the thin line of her lips where she grimaced. This wasn’t about controlling her. He simply wanted her to take the time to do things she wanted to do and not have to work so hard. Her exhaustion was evident. Philly wasn’t hiding it well.
“Please, not this argument again.”
“I'm not arguing. You've earned some downtime. I don't make much, but I can take care of us both if you just want—”
Philly cut him off with a kiss.
“Stop. I'll be done in fifteen minutes. Behave.”
“Do I have to?”
Philly rolled her eyes, and he smiled as she picked up the coffee pot, then headed to the next table.
As much as he wanted to continue to watch his woman work, he turned his attention to Murphy who'd taken a seat at the counter. Gladys or another server always waited on him. Always giving Murphy the cold shoulder. The Sheriff wasn't paying much attention to his protests. Getting the Sheriff to do more than break up teenagers drinking at a pasture party was too much of an effort for the bastard.
He was getting fucking tired of the boys will be boys bullshit.
Philly was sleeping less, and his worry grew. As Philly walked a wide berth around Murphy, he clenched his fists on the table. His woman was the strongest woman he'd ever met. That was the first thing he'd noticed about her. He was beyond grateful that he could claim her as his. Getting past her walls was frustrating, but he'd never push her to do or say anything before she was ready.
He drained the coffee in his mug and stood to make his way to the counter. He watched her as she rang up his coffee and he paid, then he started to pull a twenty out of his wallet.
“Bret Stoker, if you even attempt to tip me, your ass is on the couch tonight.”
He made a show of shoving the bill back into his wallet and putting it into his back pocket. Placing his hands on the counter, he leaned in close until his mouth almost touched hers.
“Now, baby girl, like you'd ever put me on the couch.”
Like any couple, they had their fights and someti
mes he thought they fought just to be able to do the whole making up thing. Philly was beautiful all the time, but angry…he'd never seen someone as sexy. When she wasn't yelling at him during their arguments, she was having the cutest conversations with herself. Gesturing wildly and her hair a mess. He sometimes lived to piss Philly off.
“You want to try me, Principal Stoker?”
“Any time.”
He chuckled as she groaned and tipped her head back. She brought her head forward and brushed his lips with hers. He barely resisted deepening the kiss. Philly pushed at his chest with her small hands, and he pretended to stumble.
“You're so weird.”
“But you find me irresistible.”
“Oh Lord,” Gladys mumbled and then walked off giggling to herself.
“That I won't deny. I'm going to grab my coat and purse. I'll be right back.”
He turned away from the counter in time to notice Murphy glaring at him.
“Got a problem, Murphy?”
“Just taking in the cute couple bullshit y'all two got going on. Is that how you talked your way into her tight—”
The punch he threw stopped mid-swing as Miles blocked the punch with his hand.
“Pop, he's not worth it. Rather go home with Mom or spend the night in jail?”
He tightened his jaw at the vicious smirk that pulled at the corner of his mouth, then Murphy raised his hand and scrubbed at the patchy beard. In his gut, he knew what the next words would be and as much as he wanted to go home with his woman he wouldn't hold back.
“Ya know, now, that I think about it, Coach, ya used to spend a lot of nights at her trailer. Saw you coming and going, barely dressed underage—”
With each syllable, the volume of the bastard's voice grew louder and started to draw attention.
Philly's arms came around his waist from behind. Her forehead rested on the center of his back, and he didn't think twice when he slipped his fingers through hers. Took in the slight tremble. He didn't give a fuck about his job or what people thought about him. Philly wasn't up for ridicule or filthy fucking lies. Before he could aim another punch, Gladys smacked the back of the bastard’s head, and Murphy howled in pain.
