by Sarra Cannon
“I can’t come in,” I say. “I’m not even close to home right now.”
“What about a local clinic where you are? Or even an emergency room? Any place that could do a quick exam or ultrasound to make sure everything’s okay. That would at least put your mind at ease.”
I close my eyes. I have no idea how I would pull that off without Mason finding out. “I don’t know if I can get in to see anyone right away.”
“Everyone here is very worried about you, Penny,” he says. “I think it’s best if you come home as soon as you can.”
I know he’s just trying to look out for me, but I really don’t want to come home right now. Still, I don’t want to put the baby at risk either. I stand there, not sure what to say or do.
“Look, Penny, I’m sure everything is going to be fine,” he says. “If it’s just a little bit of spotting, it’s nothing to be concerned about. It will probably go away overnight. If it continues for a few days or becomes heavier, or if you have any severe cramping, you need to get in to see a doctor right away.”
Movement catches my eye outside and I see Mason walking toward the store.
“Thank you, Dr. Mallory,” I say. “I’ve got to go.”
“Please call me if you need help, okay?”
“I will,” I say. “And Dr. Mallory? Please don’t tell anyone I called, okay?”
He hesitates, but finally says yes.
I hang up and hand the phone to the clerk just as Mason walks through the door.
Chapter Forty-Seven
I barely sleep that night.
We stop at a campsite that has small cabins for rent and I convince Mason to splurge for the night. It’s still modest, but there’s a private bathroom. I keep getting up throughout the night to check for more spotting, but other than that little bit at the gas station, I don’t see any more blood.
In the morning, I tell Mason I’m not feeling well and we decide to stay in the cabin for a few more days.
We take it easy, playing board games that were left in the cabin and taking turns reading from a few old romance novels with tattered pages. I laugh when Mason reads, because he adds some real theater to it, giving a different voice to each character. The sex scenes are the best part. Not because they’re so sexy, but because he’s so dramatic about it.
At night, he holds me in his arms and strokes my hair.
On our second night there, we’re laying in bed when I notice a faded Polaroid sticking out of one corner of his open duffel bag on the floor. I recognize it from the first night he showed me his truck and told me he was leaving Fairhope.
I walk over and pick it up, studying the two blond children in the photo. I bring the picture back to bed and lay back against his chest. His body tenses as I hold it up.
“Tell me about her,” I say.
He’s quiet for a long moment, and at first I think he’s not going to say anything.
Finally, he reaches up and takes the photo from my hand. His thumb moves along the bottom tenderly.
“Her name was Rachel,” he says. “She was my sister.”
I sit up so I can see his face. He’s wearing a pained expression, sadness and regret in his eyes.
“I didn’t know you had a sister.”
He props the picture up against a lamp on the side table by the bed. “She died when I was seven.”
I draw in a breath, my heart aching for him. I move closer to him on the bed and put my hand on his leg. “What happened to her?”
He clears his throat and when I look up, there are tears in his eyes. “She had leukemia,” he says. “She was eight when she was diagnosed and six months later, she was gone. It was like one day she was fine and the next, she was too sick to stand. My parents didn’t have much money back then and my dad was between jobs so we didn’t have health insurance. They couldn’t afford the treatments and by the time they were able to find a hospital that would help her, it was too late. When you told me you’ve given money to families like that. Kids without insurance? That really means a lot to me, Penny.”
I don’t know what to say. My chest tightens and my eye sting with tears. I blink and they fall down my cheeks and drop onto the sheets. Mason swipes at his eyes and looks away. I move up next to him and put my arms around him. His shoulders are shaking slightly.
“I had no idea,” I say in a whisper. “I’m so sorry.”
“She was my best friend growing up,” he says, his voice cracking. “Sometimes I still can’t believe she’s gone, you know?”
I have no words to comfort him. All I can do is hold him tight in my arms and let him talk.
“You’re so lucky to have Preston,” he says. “I watch you guys sometimes and think about what it would have been like if she hadn’t died. What she would have been like. How my life might have been different.”
So many thoughts swim through my brain. I can’t believe I’ve known him for all this time—grown up beside him all these years—and never once heard anyone in his family mention Rachel. I always assumed he was an only child.
How could he have carried this pain around inside of him for so long and never shared it with anyone?
“Why don’t you ever talk about her?” I ask.
He shrugs and wipes the rest of the tears from his eyes. “My parents don’t like to be reminded of that time in our lives,” he says. “It was a really hard time for all of us.”
“Yeah, but isn’t it hard to keep that inside?”
“I used to think it made things easier,” he says. “Like if we didn’t talk about it or keep her pictures out where people could ask about her, then maybe it didn’t happen. Maybe it was just a dream.”
I hug him tighter, wishing I knew how to comfort him.
“I know it sounds stupid, but I think that’s why I never really let myself love anyone completely,” he says. “It hurts too damn much when you have to say goodbye.”
He lets go, then, and the tears begin to flow. He clings to me, his shoulders shaking with sobs. I lean back against the headboard on the bed and pull him against my chest, our earlier roles reversed.
I realize as I hold him that the walls he’s always put between us are higher and thicker than I ever imagined. All this time I thought he was putting those walls up to keep me out, but in this moment, I see that what he was really doing was hiding his own broken heart.
Chapter Forty-Eight
In the morning, we pack up and continue on our way toward Texas.
Something has changed between us, though. It’s a change that no one would ever see from the outside, but I know we both feel it. We trust each other in a way we never did before, and it gives my heart hope for the future.
On the drive, he tells me stories about his sister. Things they did growing up, like camping and fishing and playing games. He tells me how they used to sing together all the time and I mention again that I want to hear him sing. He just smiles and says no one ever gets to hear him sing these days.
Now I finally see why this trip was so important to him, though. I see why he needed to get away from the parties and the money. To get back to a life beyond those things when he may not have had money, but he had more than that.
When we finally get to Beaumont a few days later, it’s well after midnight and both of us are exhausted.
“There’s no way we’re going to find a campsite this late at night,” Mason says. “I think we should just splurge and get a hotel room. A nice one this time with hot water and everything.”
I nearly scream in excitement. “Oh, thank you Jesus,” I say, clapping my hands. The exhaustion is gone and now all I can think about is a comfortable bed and being able to take a shower in a room where I don’t have to keep one eye open in case a spider decides to jump down and attack my face. “You are my favorite person on earth right now,” I say, planting a huge kiss on his cheek.
Mason tries to hide a smile. He makes an exaggerated show of looking at his watch. “Let’s see, you lasted almost three full weeks in
the wild,” he says. “I think you deserve one night of luxury.”
“Hey, I didn’t say we had to stay at the Ritz or anything,” I say. “Not that I would complain about it if we did, though. I just want a bed comfortable enough to sleep in without waking up twelve times a night.”
“If we have a comfortable bed, is that really what you want to be doing in it?”
I punch his shoulder. “Is that all you ever think about?”
“When you’re around me, yes. Yes it is,” he says with a smile. “I can’t help it if you’re the sexiest woman alive. I’m the victim here.”
I scoot back down in the seat, putting my feet up on the dashboard. “I guess after nearly three weeks straight of sleeping on the ground or in extreme budget hotels and cabins, we’d really be crazy not to at least take advantage of a nice, comfortable bed before we actually sleep in it,” I say, a huge smile spreading across my face as he takes the next exit and pulls into the parking lot of a Hilton.
Chapter Forty-Nine
The next morning, we sleep in for the first time in weeks.
“I think we missed the free breakfast,” Mason says, stretching.
We got a room with a king-size bed, but we’re snuggled together tight on one side.
“Screw breakfast,” I say. “I just want to stay in bed all day.”
“Done,” he says, pulling me into his arms and rolling over until he’s on top of me.
He leans down and kisses me softly.
“I don’t care how many days pass,” he says. “I’ll never get enough of seeing you like this.”
“Like what?”
He smiles and twists a strand of my hair around his finger. “Your wild hair. Your slightly puffy and kissable lips.” He runs the back of his hand across my check. “Not a drop of makeup on your gorgeous face.”
I sink back into the pillow and scrunch my nose. “I hate the way I look in the mornings.”
“You’re so naturally beautiful,” he says. “There’s no one in the world I’d rather wake up next to.”
I suck in a breath and meet his eyes. My heart aches at his words. They sound like the words of someone who is in love, but something is still holding him back. After all we’ve shared, what could still be standing between us?
I wish I could ask him. I wish I could ask him if he’s falling in love with me. But I’m too scared.
So I let my eyes ask for me. And instead of getting up or running away from me like he used to, he stays. He caresses my hair, his eyes never wavering from mine.
And for now, it’s enough.
Chapter Fifty
Mason and I spend the day in bed. We order room service for lunch, watch bad TV, and stay wrapped in each other’s arms for the entire afternoon. Around six, I finally get out of bed and into the shower.
I stay in a long time, just letting the hot water run over my aching body.
Most of the campsites had showers, but depending on the time of day and how many campers there were, hot water was never a guarantee. I’ve never taken so many cold showers in my life.
It’s amazing how fast you can get used to something, though. Even the most uncomfortable things like sleeping on the ground and taking cold showers can begin to feel normal. And really, as long as you’ve got a hot guy to snuggle up to at night, it’s all worth it.
I’ve held up my end of the bargain by not complaining along the way. Well, not too much, anyway. But damn, this shower feels amazing. I turn and lean my head back, letting the water run through my hair.
I think about the past few weeks of my life and how much things have changed for me. Not just because of Mason, but because of all the people we’ve met along the way. All the things I’ve tried that I never would have imagined myself doing before this trip.
I think about the baby that Mason and I created and wonder if it’s a boy or a girl. I wonder if the little one is doing okay in there and how long it will be before I get to see his little heartbeat again. The scrape along my side is healing fast and there hasn’t been any cramping or bleeding, so I think I’m in the clear. I have no idea how or when to tell Mason about the baby, though. Will he be mad at me for keeping it a secret all this time?
And I still can’t shake the feeling that he’s still keeping some secret of his own. Something that holds the key to the last of the walls around his heart.
We’re so close now, I know it. So close to a real commitment that would change both of our lives forever.
All three of our lives, really.
When I get out of the shower, Mason is gone, but there’s a pink gift bag sitting on the bed with a note.
My eyes grow wide and I rush over, pull the tissue paper out and reach inside. My hand connects with soft fabric and as I hold it up, I realize it’s a dress. I nearly collapse onto the bed in a fit of happy giggles. For someone who has a walk-in closet that’s bigger than this room, it’s been so hard for me to live out of a tiny little bag the past few weeks. A new dress—even one with no recognizable brand—is like heaven right now.
How did he possibly have time to go buy this? Was I really in the shower that long?
And where has he gone now?
I open the note he left for me and all it says is:
Get dressed, baby. I’m taking you out tonight.
I run my hand along the scrawled words. Baby. It makes my heart soar. And a real date? This is something we haven’t done yet on our trip and it fills my stomach with butterflies. Why is he going to all this trouble to make tonight special?
We’ve been on such a strict budget this entire trip. This hotel stay alone is costing a fortune compared to the campsites, and now the dress? I hope this doesn’t mean he’s almost ready to go home and is spending what’s left of the money so that we can have a fun last few days on the road.
I push the thoughts away. I don’t want to think about what might happen to us when we go home. I know I can’t go back to the way things were. I can’t go back to being his piece on the side while he parades a new girl in my face every weekend. There are only two choices now.
Either we’re together or we’re not. There can be no in between for us. Not anymore.
Behind me, the door opens and Mason walks in. He’s carrying a large brown paper bag.
“Thank you for the dress,” I say, holding it up to my body again. “It’s beautiful.”
He laughs and touches my wet hair. “Did you just get out of the shower?”
I make a face. “Yes? Was I really in there that long?”
He laughs. “An hour? Maybe longer?”
“No way,” I say. I bend to get a look at the clock beside the bed. It’s ten after seven. “Holy crap.”
“Yeah, hope no one else in the hotel needs to shower tonight or they’re in for a rude awakening.”
“Welcome to my life for the past three weeks,” I say. I giggle and let me towel drop to the floor. “I’ll get dressed.”
His eyes travel over my naked body and he tightens his grip on the paper bag. “You better hurry,” he says. “I’m not sure how much longer I can hold onto my self-control.”
I throw the dress on the bed, then make a show of walking over to the chair where I left my bag last night. I find my bra and panties and take my time getting dressed, like the opposite of a strip tease.
Mason sets his bag down on the desk, then leans against the wall and watches, his eyes devouring me. I love it when he looks at me like that. It’s raw and pure and real. There’s no room for lies or deception or misunderstanding. There’s just desire.
I finally end his agony by pulling the dress over my head. It’s a simple off-the-shoulder white dress with lace around the bottom and a skirt that’s gathered around the waist and poofs a little at the bottom. I adore it. After wearing nothing but the same dirty cutoffs and tank tops for nearly a month, it may as well be couture.
I pull my hair to the side and turn around in front of him. “Zip me up?”
He takes his time, slipping his warm ha
nd inside and running his fingertips down my spine with one slow, deliberate movement that sends a fire through my body. When he gets to the bottom, he zips the dress up, then kisses my neck and pulls me close to him.
If I wasn’t anxious to see what he has planned for the night, I’d just tell him to unzip me and get back into bed.
But this is the first time he’s done something sneaky like this and made plans for us, so I want to know. I want to experience whatever it is that’s coming next.
“What’s in the other bag?” I ask.
He smiles and opens the brown bag. He pulls two scratched up pairs of boots out and hands one to me. “I hope they fit,” he says. “I thought we should at least try to look the part if we’re going out.”
I laugh and pull the brown leather boots on. They’re a perfect fit. I have no idea how he knew my size, but when I look in the mirror, I’m so excited about our date I can hardly stand it.
“How did we afford all this?”
A twinge of worry eats at the corners of my happiness. If we still have weeks to go on the trip, he wouldn’t be spending so much on the past couple of days.
“Don’t worry about that,” he says. “We saved so much in Little Lake that we can afford to live a little and have some fun while we’re here. I didn’t spend that much, really. I got all this stuff at a thrift shop around the corner. Besides, tonight is very special.”
“Oh?” I say, my heart fluttering. “Why is that?”
One side of his mouth lifts in a smile that has mischief written all over it. “You’ll see.”
I watch as he pulls a white button-up and a dusty black cowboy hat out of the bag. He dresses quickly, pulling on his boots and dusting off the hat before placing it perfectly on his head. Damn, he looks good as a cowboy, especially with that little bit of scruff on his face giving him a slightly rugged toughness.
I have never been so excited about a date in my life.
I just pray it’s a beginning and not an end.
Chapter Fifty-One
“Where are we going now?” I ask after dinner.
