Hustler_A Second Chance Romance

by Rye Hart

I felt that flood of emotions again as I tried to swallow it down.

  “It’s been so long,” I said.

  “Then I’m honored it could be me,” he said.

  “This is all so wonderful. Thank you for bringing me out here.”

  “It’s the bare minimum of what you deserve.”

  I smiled and shook my head as he offered his body to me. I curled up within the strength of him as his arm draped protectively over me. He was warm, inviting, strong, and protective. My hands danced along the small patch of hair he had on his chest and I saw goosebumps ricochet down his stomach.

  I couldn’t help but smile at the reaction that his body had to my touch. At least I knew that wasn’t completely one-sided.

  “Did you have this type of reaction to me in high school?” I asked.

  “Do you not remember?”

  “I remember you pinning me to the back stairwell and never taking off more than your pants to do anything,” I said.

  “Horny boys will be horny boys. But yes, I had this type of reaction to you in high school. I figured how often I pinned you to that wall would’ve told you that.”

  He rolled over on top of me and I started to laugh. He was tickling my sides and making me squirm as I tried to get him off me. My sides ached and my stomach hurt and Ryan’s laughter filled the room. Then he took my hands and pinned them above my head as the firelight flickered along the edges of his face.

  “I would’ve done anything for you back then,” I said.

  “And now?” he asked.

  I lifted my lips up to encompass his as his cock began to grow again.

  “Why don’t I just show you?”

  CHAPTER 17

  RYAN

  Grace and I somehow found the energy to go another round before we passed out in each other’s arms. I slept with her curled up next to me all night as the fire kept us warm. The sun was beginning to stream through the window next to the front door as morning encroached, and I woke up to Grace wrapped around my body.

  It was a wonderful sensation. Her leg was thrown over my hips and her arm rested around my waist. Her face was pressed into the crook of my neck and somehow, I had managed to fall asleep closer to her than I had been when I was cock-deep inside of her body. My knee was resting against her comfortable thigh and my cheek was pressed into the top of her head.

  It felt right having her there.

  I laid there, feeling her chest rising and falling against me until my stomach started to growl. I reluctantly slid from her grasp, watching as she curled up with my pillow. She buried her face in it and drew in my scent as a sleepy smile crossed her lips.

  It warmed my heart to watch her like that.

  Trying to be quiet, I made my way to the corner of the cabin that had the little kitchen nook. I fired up the stove and rummaged around for some eggs, then began chopping up some vegetables. I had asked for the fridge to be stocked before we arrived, and I was glad to see that all of my requests had been fulfilled. I was going to make us a couple of omelets and maybe some bacon. I knew we were going to need coffee, but I pulled out the orange juice too. I was whisking some milk and pepper into the eggs when I heard Grace stirring behind me, then soon her body pressed into my back.

  I felt her arms creep around my waist as her cheek fell between my shoulder blades.

  “Morning,” I said.

  “Good morning. Something smells good.”

  “Veggie omelets, bacon, and coffee,” I said.

  “And orange juice.”

  “If you want some, yes,” I said.

  “Need any help?”

  “You can do the bacon,” I offered.I looked back at her and she grinned up at me. I proceeded to pour the eggs I had whisked up into the pan before I tossed half the vegetables in. I kept eyeing her carefully as she opened up the package of bacon, then I saw her bring out two pans; silver sheet pan and a glass casserole dish.

  “What in the world are you doing?” I asked.

  “Sshh and let the bacon whisperer work her magic.”

  “Did you just call yourself the Pork Queen?” I asked.

  “No. Bacon Whisperer,” Grace said. “It’s different.”

  I chuckled and shook my head as I flipped over the first omelet. I slid it onto a plate before I started cracking some more eggs into a bowl. I watched as Grace laid out the bacon onto the flat sheet, then she sat the glass pan on top of the bacon.

  I furrowed my brow as she turned on the oven, her hips knocking me out of the way. I poured the eggs into the pan on the stove as she bent over, giving me a wonderful view of that beautiful ass. I could see the outline of one of my handprints as her robe pulled up over her skin, and I ran my hand over it and watched her skin pucker.

  “Does that hurt?” I asked.

  “Not at all,” Grace said.

  She closed the oven and leaned up, then scooted back behind me. I loved this dynamic we had going, making breakfast together and learning how the other one prepared it. I didn’t know there was another way to cook bacon besides tossing it in a pan and praying for your skin to stay intact. But just like that, Grace had showed me another way to do something.

  I enjoyed learning from her.

  She slipped her arms back around my waist, but her hands kept traveling further south. I felt her cup my cock, massaging it as it rose to life. I drew in a deep breath as I tossed the vegetables into the omelet, trying to keep my composure as much as I could.

  “Do you like that?” Grace asked.

  “Can’t you tell?” I replied.

  She grinned into my skin before pressing a kiss between my shoulder blades. She pulled away from me and I groaned, then shook my head to get back in the game. I flipped the omelet over before sliding it out onto another plate, then I started in on making us some coffee.

  I couldn’t help but feel that this was how life should be; enjoying lazy mornings with people I cared about. The sunlight was pouring through the windows and the kitchen was full of smells that were making my stomach growl. The woman at my side was feeling playful and had no issues with me marveling at her body.

  This morning was perfect, but it was still missing something.

  “How’s Harper doing?” I asked.

  “She’s doing okay. Amy sent me a message this morning. She’s asking where I am, but Auntie Amy has her distracted with ice cream for breakfast.”

  “I hope that kid has a good dentist,” I said.

  “Don’t worry. I’ve got one for her.”

  “You think she would enjoy something like this?” I asked.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Being in a cabin, camping, playing in the woods. Does Harper like that kind of thing?”

  “I’m not sure. I’ve never taken her camping, but she is an outdoors kid.”

  “Maybe we could take her camping. Bring her to a cabin or something, but minus all the wine.”

  “Or we could drink the wine after she went to bed.”

  “Or we could do that,” I said, with a grin. “How are things going at work?”

  “Eh, they could be better. What about you?”

  “Eh? Something wrong?”

  “Lionel’s getting a little—eh.”

  “Can you define that?” I asked.

  I poured us each a mug of coffee and turned around to face Grace.

  “His flirting is getting a little—obvious? I don’t really know how to explain it.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  “I don’t know. I mean, he’s not touching me or anything, but it’s the way he talks to me. He calls me a pretty face and tells me I should be on the floor more because my beautiful body would attract more customers.”

  “What?” I asked, anger bubbling in my gut.

  “It’s been enough for the tellers to ask me about it, and I’m wondering if I should do something.”

  “Hell yeah. Call Human Resources and report him. If he’s so bold to be doing it in front of people it’ll only get worse. Report hi
m how while you’ve got witnesses.”

  “But around here, people don’t always tell the truth when it comes to that kind of thing. Tell City is still very behind the times. If I contact H.R. for sexual harassment and I don’t have some sort of video of outward proof, there’s a chance Lionel could fire me over it.”

  “That would be illegal. He can’t fire you over reporting him to H.R.”

  “But he can if he calls me an insubordinate employee and frightens the others into keeping quiet. This is how those things usually get written off and justified.”

  “That’s bullshit. If he’s making you uncomfortable with your job, then someone needs to know about it.”

  “Ryan, I don’t want to ruin our weekend over it. I shouldn’t have even said anything.”

  “I’m glad you did,” I said, as I set our coffee on the table. “It means you feel like you can talk to me about this kind of stuff.”

  “I need my job. The bump in pay has come at the perfect time for me and Harper.”

  “I understand needing the money.”

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you with it. It’s just—nice to have someone to talk to about it,” she said.

  “You can always talk to me,” I said. “But if he touches you—”

  “I’ll handle it and will definitely be reporting him, don’t worry.”

  The two of us sat down to breakfast and began to eat. Our feet were tangled up with one another underneath the table and it somehow made me feel even closer to her. I studied her as she ate. The way her lips curled around the edge of her coffee mug. I wanted to tell her I had a plan to get her out of that job; a plan to provide for all of us and whisk us away so she could become the children’s author she wanted to become. But I was scared to. I was scared to tell her what was going on because I knew she wouldn’t react well. And if I kept it topical, she would press me with questions until I was forced to lie to her.

  Again.

  But I really didn’t want to ruin our time together with more lies. I wanted to enjoy this unadulterated time I had with her. I didn’t want the worries of her job or the stressing over my own job to get in the way of us. We had shared a wonderful, vulnerable, passionate night, and I wanted to share another one with her. She had taken off work specifically to do this with me, and I wanted it to be the best weekend of her entire life.

  “This omelet is fabulous,” Grace said. “But I think the bacon’s done.”

  “Did you put a timer on?” I asked.

  “No. I judge by the smell of it. And it smells like it should be ready. Hold on.”

  I watched her get up from the table and saunter over to the oven. She bent over, giving me a glorious view of that naked pussy. I felt my cock pulse with life as she pulled the bacon out of the oven, the decadent smell filling the cabin.

  “Perfectly smooth, crispy on the sides, and no popping grease,” she said.

  I grinned up at her as she picked one up and took the first bite.

  CHAPTER 18

  GRACE

  Staring at the calendar, I stood there, counting and recounting the days. I was like clockwork every month. Twenty-nine days in between the ending of one period and the first day of the next. I flipped the calendar over and recounted the days for a third and fourth time as my hand began to shake.

  I was late.

  My period was four days late.

  Harper was still sleeping, and I was glad for it. I felt myself falling into a daze as I picked up my cell phone. The sun hadn’t yet crested over the tops of the trees and I knew she would be pissed with me at waking her up this early, but I needed her.

  I needed to talk to my best friend.

  “Really?” Amy asked. “It’s six in the morning.”

  “I really need to talk,” I said.

  “Whoa, whoa. What's wrong?” she asked.

  “I’m late.”

  “For what?” she asked.

  “Damn it, Amy. My period is late.”

  “By how long?”

  “Four days.”

  “Have you been stressed?”

  “If anything, I’ve been more relaxed than ever, thanks to Ryan.”

  “The two of you using protection?”

  “I’m on the pill, Amy. I have been for years,” I said.

  “But I’ve known you to skip entire days before you catch it. Have you looked at your packet recently?”

  “Even if I have skipped some lately, that wouldn’t account for a late period now.”

  “Is it possible it could be hormonal? I know you've been bitching about your boss lately. You think that’s thrown you off a bit?”

  My breast began to ache and I rose my hand to rub it mindlessly.

  Then, I caught what I was doing.

  “Amy?”

  “Yeah?”

  “My breast hurts,” I said.

  A silence fell on the other end of the line as I held my breath. I heard Amy shuffling around as tears rose to my eyes. The backs of my knees hit my kitchen chair and I fell down into it.

  “Okay. I’m on my way to the drug store now. Have you peed yet this morning?” Amy asked.

  “No. Not yet.”

  “G. Grab a cup and get yourself into the bathroom.”

  “Amy, I can’t be pregnant can I?” I asked.

  “You know nothing is impossible in this world we live in. We’re going to do this like we did it with Harper. Pee in a cup and wait for me. I’m grabbing one of every pregnancy test on the damn wall, then I’m headed your way.”

  “Amy, I’m scared.”

  “Don’t worry. If you’re not pregnant, we can get you a doctor’s appointment to make sure nothing else is going on,” she said.

  “And if I am?”

  “Let’s take this one step at a time and deal with facts. I’ll see you soon.”

  A tear rolled down my cheek as I hung up the phone, and suddenly I had the urge to pee unlike anything I’d ever felt before. I opened up the cabinets and grabbed a coffee mug, one I intended on throwing away once this was all said and done. I made my way into the half-bath on the other side of the house so I wouldn’t wake Harper, then I proceeded to fill the cup.

  Memories upon memories came rushing back. Crying in the shared bathroom of my dorm. Amy racing to Texas to try and be with me. Crying myself to sleep at night in my bed. The shaking of my hands when I told Grant I was pregnant.

  Relieving myself in the coffee mug, I set it on the edge of the counter. I heard Amy stick her key in the door before she came barreling into the house. I met her in the hallway, making sure she knew not to rush past Harper’s room.

  Then she appeared around the corner with a bag in her hand.

  “Here,” she said. “Do all of them.”

  “Amy, there’s gotta be twenty tests in this bag.”

  “Then we’ll consider ourselves thorough.”

  I ripped each box open and stuck them into the mug. Digital tests and droplet tests. Line-dye tests and old-fashioned tests. Every single pregnancy test someone could find on a shelf was upturned into the mug or resting on the edge of my bathroom sink.

  My hands were trembling as Amy went to stuff the boxes in my trash can.

  It was the longest five minutes of my life. I sat on top of the toilet with my head in my hands. I was thankful that Harper was still sleeping, having a late morning instead of an early one. I felt tears crest my eyes as the timer on Amy’s phone went off, then she began pulling them out of the mug and tossing them into the sink.

  “What’s the verdict?” I asked.

  “Come see for yourself.”

  Standing, I shuffled over to the sink. With each one I picked up, more tears fell from my eyes.

  Positive.

  Positive.

  Pregnant.

  Every single fucking test was positive.

  “Oh no,” I said breathlessly. “No, no, no. This can’t be happening.”

  “Grace, look at me,” Amy said.

  “I can’t do this.
Ryan and I—we can’t—”

  “You need to sit down,” she said.

  “We’re too new. He won’t—fuck. Amy, I’ll be a single mom of two kids.”

  “Let’s unpack that for a second, because you don’t know that.”

  “Don’t know. What do you mean, I don’t know? Three to four weeks. Those high-tech digital pregnancy tests say the same damn thing; that we got pregnant our first night together, Amy. The first time. Our first time. He’s—fuck, Amy. Three weeks. That’s all we’ve been together. And you’re telling me he’s going to suddenly want to raise a child with me?”

  “You see how he is around Harper. He might like this. You don’t know that.”

  “My mom has doubts about him, Amy. She says there aren’t subdivisions being built on the outskirts of town and that she thinks he’s hiding something.”

  “Your mom didn’t like Grant at first, either,” she said. “Remember? She thought he wasn't strong enough to care for you and a child. But she was wrong, wasn’t she?”

  “I can’t get her voice out of my head.”

  “Grace, look at me.”

  I lifted my eyes to my best friend as I sniffled.

  “You need to calm down.”

  “What if Ryan doesn’t want to do this?” I asked.

  “Then, as a pregnant woman in Indiana, you have options. But we can’t consider those options until you talk to Ryan. He needs to know. Just like Grant needed to know.”

  “What if he leaves?” I asked breathlessly.

  “Then it’s his fucking loss. Because Grace, you’re a wonderful mother and a strong woman. If he can’t stand up and stick by that, then he’s a useless douchebag. Either way, the fact remains that you have to tell him. You have to take deep breaths like I told you to do with Harper and you need to make a plan.”

  “How is this happening again?” I asked.

  “ Look, it’s happened, so trying to figure out how now is pointless. So here’s what’s going to happen. I’m going to go get Harper up and take her out for a quick breakfast before school. You're going to clean yourself up and go to work. Then, you’re going to come home to a dinner cooked by me, and we’re going to sit down with apple juice in a wine glass and talk this over. All after you’ve had some time to calm the fuck down.”