by Brinda Berry
But this time, my brother kept asking questions. How do you feel? Do you want to borrow a book? Do you want me to drive you somewhere with a cell signal? Have you talked to Dane today? When are you changing out of those pajamas?
I was very ready to return to civilization.
Why is Dane being so stubborn? I blink away the threat of tears when water fills my eyes. I look away so Webb won’t see.
“What did you want me to carry?” Webb glances around the storeroom, then elbows my arm. “Did you get me back here under false pretenses? Ah, saving me from Miss Chatty.”
“You’re kind of slow on the uptake.”
He peeks through the doorway when the door chimes sound. “The lady left with her kid. Whew. Hate to say it, but I was about to find a use for some duct tape. Kids are such a…oh, sorry. Your kid won’t be like that. I was talking about all those other ones.”
“Whatever.” I open the mini-fridge in the back of the storeroom and grab a drink.
“Is something going on with you and Dane?”
I freeze, my hand poised mid-twist on the cap of my bottled water. “Why do you ask?”
“He called me while you were gone. He sounded a little upset.”
“Only because he’s trying to force me into some sort of pact.”
Webb peers through the doorway again then returns his gaze to mine… “Couples fight. You wouldn’t be the first or the last. But you guys need to get it together right now.”
“It wasn’t just a fight.” My voice grows low and wobbles a little. “We’re at an impasse. I told him I needed time to think. Alone.”
“Well, it’s lasted long enough. Get over your moping.”
“It’s too important.” I finish removing the lid of my water and take a long drink. “And I’m not moping. He wants some promises from me that I can’t give.”
“That’s different. You should probably tell him to go find someone else.”
I frown at Webb. “I don’t want to give up.” The mental picture of Dane with another woman makes my stomach sour and my heart pound. God. Webb needs to be quiet. He’s giving me indigestion.
“There are plenty of fish in the ocean. If you’re at this impasse like you said, then you might as well end your relationship.”
“I’m trying to make Dane understand how love works.” I toss my half-empty bottle in the trash bin. “It’s not a one-hundred percent impasse. I just need for him to understand and come around to my way of thinking.”
“You can’t change people.”
“Who says?”
“Webb the relationship counselor.”
“A job you obviously suck at since you have no professional training and don’t know me well enough to judge—”
“You know what you should do? Maybe go out with someone else. See if you can just get over him.”
I cross my arms and rest them on my shelf of a belly. “You’re obviously kidding.” I cock my eyebrow and look down at my body. “I only want Dane.”
“You don’t want to make a promise to him and he doesn’t want to retract. Sounds like an impossible situation. It’s already over. That’s what I’m hearing.”
I want to punch him for baiting me. “That’s not what I said. I told him that…” A sharp pain rolls over my midsection. I curl my body forward and my hands slide down to press against my stomach.
“What is it? You okay?” Webb’s voice is wary. He strides toward me and lowers his head to search my face.
I close my eyes and take a breath before blowing it out between pursed lips. “Wow.” I place my palm over the side of my belly and rub. “I don’t know.”
“Sit down.” He guides me to the small table in the storeroom. “I’m telling our new employee to turn the closed sign around on the door. He can close up, too. You okay for five seconds?”
I nod. “I’m fine.” I exhale. “It was a cramp. That’s all. And Spencer won’t know what to do.” Webb’s handing the store over to a guy who is only our Christmas help?
Webb ignores my protests about the new employee. “When’s the baby due?” He tosses the question over his shoulder as he strides to the door. His long legs eat up the distance in seconds and he’s gone.
“Three weeks. It was a cramp. That’s all,” I yell to him, hoping he can hear me. There’s no need for both of us to panic. My face flushes hot and I take slow breaths. Picking up a magazine from the table, I fan myself with it.
He’s back in seconds. “We’re going to the hospital. I’m not taking chances.”
My chest flutters and I fight back panic. It’s not time for this. “Let me sit here a few minutes. Maybe it’s nothing.”
“You should call Dane.”
I blink rapidly, my eyes filling with tears. “Really? You think…”
“Yes, I think.” His eyes widen. “Come on.” He takes his cell phone from his pocket and presses his fingers to the screen.
Handing his phone to me, I take it and inhale. Dane picks up on the first ring. “Hi Webb.”
“Uh, it’s not Webb. It’s me.” I rub my forehead with my free hand.
He’s silent for a beat. “What’s wrong, Butterfly?”
My heart picks up speed like a hockey player in possession of the puck. I gulp and steel myself not to sound scared.
“I’m pretty sure it’s nothing. Webb’s going to take me to the hospital. Will you come?”
“Like hell he is,” he says too loud, as if it will emphasize it. “I’ll be there in two minutes.”
“Holiday traffic’s too bad. You’ll never get your truck out. Webb is here. He’ll take me. Please just…” My voice catches. “Meet us there?”
There’s the sound of footsteps hitting the pavement. “I’m coming. Is Webb parked near your spot?”
“Yes.” Webb already has a hand at my elbow, forcing me out of my chair and toward the door.
A pain hits me low in the abdomen and I drop the phone. It hits the carpeted floor with a thunk.
“Oh, oh, oh.” I can’t stop my moans and press my lips together.
I peer across at Webb. He pales and grabs his phone from the floor. “She has to go. Now,” he says into the phone and disconnects.
Dane’s never going to make it. I double over at another excruciating tightening that radiates across my middle and travels to my back. I break out in a sweat and wish I could get out of my wool sweater that seemed so smart this morning when I dressed for work.
“Come on.” Webb pulls me along to follow behind him. “I can’t carry you. You’re too big.”
The pain passes and I glare at him. “Buddy, I’m going to let that statement go.”
Webb waves toward the door when we walk by the new employee Spencer. “Close up. Lock the doors behind you. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Don’t worry about the store,” he replies. “Go have a baby.”
I’m not sure who looks more frightened at this point—Webb or the new employee. “I’m not dropping the baby out of my uterus in the next five seconds,” I grouse.
We are outside the store and on the sidewalk in seconds, with Webb practically pushing me along at a pace some marathon runners would be proud to maintain.
Another searing stab hits my belly. I stop and close my eyes, practicing deep breathing exercises that I’m not supposed to need for three more weeks.
There’s the sound of pounding footsteps running. “Butter…fly.” Dane’s breathy voice fills me with relief.
I open my eyes and my eyebrows rise as I blow out air. “You made it.”
Dane’s breaths come in quick puffs. “Uh huh.”
He loops an arm across my back. “I’ve got you. Let’s go.”
Webb pulls out a key fob. “Take mine.” Dane takes the keys with his free hand and shoots Webb a grateful look.
“Can you walk now?” Dane takes slow steps while supporting me as if I’m an invalid. “How far apart are the contractions?”
I nod. “The pain’s gone. I forgot to time it.” I
sigh. Who can think of that when it feels like I’m being poked by a cattle prod?
“Hang on.” We walk together with Dane’s arm securely tucking me against his side.
“I’m sorry. I don’t want to lose you.” My throat tightens and I swallow. “Dane, are you listening?”
“We’ll talk later. You’re not losing me. But you cannot have our baby on the sidewalk. Got it? Hold it in.”
I elbow him. “Hold it in?” My eyes widen and my voice rises in pitch. “This baby will do whatever it wants. Are you kidding?”
“Maybe. At least try.” He hugs me to his body as he presses a button on the key fob. It clicks and I point to Webb’s Mercedes-Benz.
“It’s a coupe? It’s too small,” Dane mumbles to himself. “I’ll barely fit and you…”
“I’m not that big!”
Dane opens the door and I position myself, lowering myself into the seat while holding onto his forearm. His muscles bunch beneath my touch and I’m glad for his strength. My belly threatens to press against the dash. “Holy effing sardine.”
“Wedge yourself in. Seatbelt down low. Hurry.”
“Quit bossing me—” This time, the pain hits me low in the back and I buckle the belt, pushing it below my abdomen. “Well, okay then.”
Dane slips quickly into the driver’s seat. “Let’s go have a baby.”
Webb found my keys in my purse and drove to the hospital in my car to exchange vehicles. Now, five hours later, Dane drives toward my house. It’s late and I rest my head against the seat while the car’s heater blows against my chilled skin.
“Braxton Hicks,” Dane says for the tenth time. “I think I read about it.”
“Stupid false labor. There should be some signs. I’m sorry Webb called you.”
He turns the steering wheel to the right and into a coffee shop parking lot. I glance at him and then the shop. The windows are dark and the lot’s spaces empty. The car rolls to a stop, and he cuts the engine.
“Why are we stopping?” I ask.
Looking at me with a stormy expression, he shakes his head. “It’s time to talk. I was wrong. You were right."
My lips tip up at one end and tremble as I smash them together. “Right about what exactly?”
He grabs my hand in his and rubs his thumb over my skin. The roughness sends shivers along my body and I focus purely on the feel of him. He’s like a touchstone to everything that makes me feel alive.
“I can’t ask you to leave me any more than I could leave you.” His dark eyes lock onto mine. “I…” He closes his eyes, then opens them. “I’m afraid. I’m not going to lie to you. I’m afraid I’ll ruin your life.”
“People can only ruin their own lives. Only I can do that to myself. You have to stop worrying about things beyond your control. When the baby’s here, another person will be most important. I’m no dummy. I’ll make the best decisions for two people then. I won’t let anything bad happen. I promise.” I take my hand from his and rub along his arm, yearning for skin-to-skin. Knowing he’s going to be with me and beside me. We’re going to be all right.
He smiles. “Okay. I trust you. I’m going to love you for the rest of my life. Through thick and thin, crazy times and sane times. That came out wrong.” He grimaces and rubs a hand over his face.
“Uh, okay,” I say with a laugh. This is my Dane. My best friend. My lover. “Will you come back home now?”
Although he didn’t officially move in, I think of my house as ours. Maybe we should talk about this soon.
He reaches into the back seat for his coat. “I have your rings—the ones Ellen took. I’ve been waiting to see you so I could return them.”
I lay my head against the seat and study him. “Thank you. It means a lot to me.”
“For what it’s worth, she’s sorry. I don’t expect you to forgive her right away, but you can think about it.”
“Okay,” I answer and hold out my hand for the rings. A slow, lazy yawn escapes me and I close my eyes.
“Keep your eyes closed,” he says. He grabs my left hand. I get a funny feeling in the pit of my belly, anticipation before a rollercoaster freefall or the moment you stay up on water-skis. A hot damn feeling.
“You can open them now,” he says.
He slides a ring onto my finger. A cushion cut solitaire set on a twisted rose gold band. My hand trembles and warmth floods my face. My throat tightens and tears fill my eyes. “Dane Delacroix. How long have you had this ring?”
He looks away and then back to me. “Months. I kept chickening out and convincing myself I’d be a bastard to give it to you. Josie. Dammit, I don’t know how to propose like those guys in the books you read. But I’m asking you to be mine. I want to be yours because I’m selfish and a jerk.”
“That was a terrible way to convince me. That proposal needs some serious work.” A hot tear slides down my face. “And you are seriously a jerk sometimes. I love you. No matter what. So…yes.”
“Yes? You’ll marry me? It was that easy?”
“I can make it hard if you want.” My lips quirk into a grin.
He places his warm hands on both sides of my face and leans in, stopping inches from my mouth. “Make it easy. Make it hard. I’ll take it any way with you.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Finally
Josie
9 months ago
Dane’s house sits smack-dab in the middle of town. It’s this cute little home, so close to the couple next door that I’m surprised he can’t hear them having sex in their bedroom.
I wrinkle my nose at the thought and knock twice on the door.
“It’s open,” he yells from somewhere inside.
Letting myself in, I drop my purse on the table next to the door. The room is dim and there’s a candle lit. It smells of chocolate. Nice. It’s the candle I bought him for a housewarming gift.
“Hey there,” I yell into the empty room. “I brought food.”
“Be out in a minute.”
I kick off my Converses near the sofa. I love Thursday nights.
Thursday is standing movie night. It doesn’t matter if there’s a woman in his life or a guy in mine. I can always depend on Dane for this one pillar in my life that doesn’t change.
Thursday always means flicks. Besties. Beer. Maybe pizza if I’m being a bad eater. The best life has to offer for the single person.
“How you doing, Butterfly?” He strolls into the room, his dark hair wet from the shower and falling recklessly across his forehead. So beautiful. Also, so unfair.
“Oh, doing okay. You know, same old, same old. William came in today asking about how much inventory I keep in the back. That man is a nut job.”
Dane chuckles and strides past me into the kitchen, so I follow. He pulls two beers from the fridge, handing me one after he unscrews the lid. “That man has a thing for you. You want me to rough him up?”
His expression and tone are a little too serious all of a sudden. Too bad it’s just friendly concern and not jealousy.
I sigh. “Ew! He’s old enough to be my father. And no. I don’t want you threatening the guy. He adds that little mystery to my life. It’s a guessing game with myself on what he’ll do next.”
Dane tips the beer bottle to his lips and takes a long pull from it. I watch his Adam’s apple move in the most delightful way. Can drinking be an act of seduction? I vote yes.
“I’ll make him an offer he can’t refuse,” he says with an air of the Godfather. “One word from you and…”
“Don’t go scaring Walters. He’s harmless.” I snort and tip up my own beer.
Dane takes my cloth bag of groceries and peers inside. He wrinkles his nose at the pita chips with yogurt dip. “No pizza tonight? I can order a delivery.”
“Your arteries are complaining. We are not getting any younger. This is healthy and this is what we’re eating. I’m trying to eat better. I read a book about vegan living.”
He shakes his head and puts the chips and a large p
lastic bowl. Popping one chip into his mouth, he makes a face and chews slowly. Then he swallows and chugs the rest of his beer. “Tastes like vegan death to me.”
“You’ll get used to it. After three or four it tastes less like cardboard and more like flavorful shoe leather.”
“Great.” He walks past me to the living room. “It’s your turn to pick the movie.”
I carry the bowl of pita chips to the coffee table and plop down on the sofa. Dane clicks on the television and finds a movie pay-per-view channel.
He scrolls through the selection and nothing really hits me. After reading a good twenty-five titles, I see the name of one of my favorite actors. “Stop there,” I demand.
“Her Only Love?” Dane clicks into the description. A sweeping saga of love and lust. Winner of the Sundance award, this film explores sexuality of the future. For viewers eighteen and older.
“Love and lust? I’m in,” he says.
I shift uncomfortably on the sofa. “Oh. I thought it’d be more…”
He waggles his eyebrows. “You turning into a prude?”
“I’m not a prude.”
“Yeah. I know. I see the kinds of books you read. And this isn’t porn. There are channels for that if it’s what you want to watch.” He smirks at me.
I grab a pillow and throw it at his head. “We are so watching this movie now.”
Dane clicks to start the movie. I drag a sofa blanket over my legs and tuck my feet underneath me. No wonder this movie won awards.
In minutes I’m engrossed in the story of a woman assigned to have sexual relations with a man she’s never met. Okay, I can go with this fantasy as the hero turns out to be my hunky favorite actor—Blake King. The subplot to the story involves an interplanetary threat in the city.
A little romance for me, some shoot ‘em action for Dane. Win-win.
And then a man loses an arm. Blood squirts across the scene in an arc of red. The character standing next to him begins to vomit.
I study the lump of dip on the pita chip I hold two inches from my lips. “Eww…”
