My chest becomes incredibly tight as I listen to her speak. I just know this story isn’t going to end well. I can see it on her face.
Tears begin gathering in her eyes. “I could barely contain my excitement. I thought to myself, ‘This is it! We’re getting married.’ I guess I got too comfortable. Careless. Irresponsible. A few weeks later, I was pregnant and the ring was gone.”
She purses her lips and closes her eyes to fight back the tears.
“He wanted me to get an abortion. I refused. We fought about it for days. When I couldn’t take it anymore, I jumped in my car and drove out here to Reyfield…That day when I was crying and ran out into the barn? That was the day I got an email from him. He told me that the ring was never meant for me. It was a ring that he was holding on to for a friend who was planning to propose to his girlfriend.” Her shoulders shake as the hinges come loose and the tears come gushing out. “He never wanted to marry me…”
“Lily…” I sit up and pull her close to me, holding her head to my chest. I whisper her name again and again, comforting her as best I can.
She doesn’t allow herself to stew in self-pity for too long. She pulls away and looks at me, still wearing a hint of a smile despite her tears. “Okay,” she says, sniffling and pushing her tears away with her fingertips, “so whatever heartache your ex caused you, I’m sure it isn’t that bad now that you know what I’ve been through. Not that it’s a competition, of course.” She laughs.
My insides beg to differ.
The words spill out of my mouth. “She gave the baby up for adoption when she wasn’t even sure if it was mine or someone else’s.”
I feel like I just ripped my own lungs out. Why is it so hard to breathe right now? I loved that girl but she was fucking any guy who’d give her the time of day. That baby could have been mine. But she didn’t care. She gave it up so she could move to Hollywood to be an actress. Her dream was to see her name in lights and she wasn’t going to let a baby get in the way of that.
Now, I’ll never know if the child was mine. I’ll never know if he’s happy and loved. If he’s bouncing around from foster home to foster home. That kind of thing fucks with a man’s head. It keeps him from finding peace.
Lily cringes visibly her eyes wide, her mouth hanging open in shock as she watches me. “Jakob…oh my god…”
My heart feels so heavy, almost like it’s about to drop out the bottom of my ribcage. And now, Lily is crying all over again, except this time, her tears are for me.
“Shhh…” I say, “That was a long time ago.”
“I’m sorry,” she whispers, “I’m sorry for forcing you to talk about it. I had no idea it was that bad. I had no idea a woman could be so cruel.”
Oh, Brittany was cruel. So much more than cruel. She was cold-hearted and vicious and selfish beyond words.
Now that I’ve started emptying my soul, I can’t stop. I speak words to Lily that I’ve never uttered to another human being. “I was only 18 but I told her that I would love her whether that child was mine or not…That wasn’t good enough for her. Me and the farm and this tiny little suburb weren’t enough for her. She wanted Hollywood.”
Lily squeezes her arms around me as if she’ll never let go. She buries her face in my chest. “That is so horrible,” she whispers.
We were young but we could have made it work. I would have been a good father, I was willing, I was ready to make the necessary sacrifices for my child. I was willing to be a husband to Brittany, if that’s what she wanted.
But it wasn’t.
Instead, she gave the baby away.
“I’m so sorry,” Lily whispers again.
I brush her hair with my fingers. “Please don’t apologize, Lily. You’re nothing like her.”
Chapter 27
Lily
Jakob sifts through the bed of sweet peppers, kneeling to pluck out the weeds. "These seedlings are coming in nicely," he mumbles contentedly, "I’m hoping for a good harvest in a few months.” I lean in and inspect the tiny buds, small and fragile but bursting with potential, kind of like this thing blossoming between Jakob and me.
I bask in the easy, relaxed energy he exudes as he goes about inspecting his crops. I've never been an outdoors girl. Six-inch stilettos and living mulch don't mix well. But it feels good when I'm out here with him. Sitting in the sun with the warm breeze beating my face and vegetation all around. I feel grounded and at ease. I'm not worrying about refilling my manicure or about the way my blouse drapes over my jeans. Hell, my socks don't even match today and I'm cool with that. There's something freeing about being around him. It's like I finally have permission to like myself the way I am without hiding under layers of designer clothes and skin-perfecting concealer.
I'm sitting in the dirt, bared-faced in denim coveralls. And I'm good.
Spending a lazy Wednesday afternoon in a vegetable garden with a modern day cowboy is exactly what I want to be doing right now.
"What are these plants over here?" I point at the patch of pale green shrubs with short, fragile stalks and rounded leaves right behind me.
"Eggplants," he tells me. "Those probably won't be ready to harvest until the end of summer. For now, they just need lots of patience and care."
Lots of patience and care.
I can relate. After the conversation we had this morning, I think we could both use some of that. We laid ourselves bare. We explored our past hurts. That wasn't easy, especially for a big bad cowboy like Jakob. I know that he isn't used to talking about what happened with his ex and the baby. Letting me in was a big deal for him. I respect that. I appreciate his trust. It makes me feel so much closer to him.
I want to keep the connection going. I crave it. So instead of going down to the riverbank with my journal while Mini takes her nap, I decided to hang out with Jakob in the fields today.
When I met him, I didn't expect to feel this way. Yes, I was attracted to him and I enjoyed getting under his skin. But the possibility of something taking form between us was just so unlikely. I feel differently now. How can I be falling for this guy when I'm carrying someone else’s child?
I shouldn’t feel this way. I shouldn’t love touching him and kissing him, always wanting more like a dog in heat. Every time he’s near me, my entire being screams, ‘yes’, ‘more’, ‘don't go’, ‘stay longer’. Don’t judge me — he’s a bearded farmer who plays the guitar and loves his grandmother. How am I supposed to resist that?
Jakob rises to his feet and stares down at me, his big body offering me shade. "You okay?" he asks tenderly, "you need to go inside and sit down?"
I smile, enjoying the way he fusses over me. "No, I'm good. I like being near you."
Something passes quickly over his eyes. It's an emotion I can't quite explain. Almost like it means a lot to hear me say that I enjoy spending time with him. He pulls the straw cowboy hat off of his head and settles it on mine. "Here. To keep the sun away."
I giggle, adjusting the rim over my ears.
One corner of his mouth curves up. "Howdy cowgirl," he teases, deepening his accent to a southwestern drawl.
"Howdy!" I wink. I rise to my feet and dust off my butt.
He looks at me like I'm the most precious thing. He tips my chin up and ducks under the rim with me to brush his lips over mine. When he pulls back, his eyes are scorching with lust. That's all it takes to set my blood on fire.
I pull the hat off, dropping it to the ground as I rise onto my toes and sling my arms around his neck. His mouth comes down on mine, moving with fervor and intensity. I groan, sliding my fingers under the hem of his shirt, up his strong back. Mmm...This is what a man feels like...
His muddy hands cradle my ass cheeks, holding me close to him. His pelvis thrusts against me. He's getting hard and my pussy tingles for his attention. We get lost in each other until we both run out of breath.
He presses his forehead to mine, chest rising and falling as his heart drums away. "Shit. I always get so carried away with
you."
My lips curve and I feel giddy. I like that. I do. But it also scares me because my body isn't the only thing getting carried away. My heart is too. I'm falling for him. And I don't know what it means. All I know is I can't get my heart broken while I'm carrying this baby. The pain would be unbearable. I need to know what I'm getting into.
I cup his cheek in my hand and look into his brown eyes. "Jakob, what are we doing here?"
I hate that I have to ask the question. I don't want to pressure him. I wish that I could just let things progress organically, follow their natural rhythm. But I'm not the only one I've got to look out for.
I've been immature. I've made assumptions that have turned my life upside down. I've taken actions without having a plan to see them through. I've relied on other people to take care of me when I should have been learning to take care of myself. It's time to grow the hell up. I'm having a baby, for crying out loud.
And part of growing up is having awkward but necessary conversations.
He takes a clumsy step away, obviously taken aback by my question. "Lily..."
"No — we need to talk about this," I insist, feeling dutiful, "I have a baby growing inside of me. He's depending on me. I can’t be prancing around playing meaningless games. So, tell me — what are we doing here?”
Jakob's eyes go solemn and he looks off into the distance. "I don't know, okay? I don't know."
Not the response I was hoping for.
I sway slightly on my knees. But I won't let his indecision topple me. Be realistic, Lily. He just met you. And you're walking around with a belly full of responsibility. Of course he isn't falling all over himself to claim you. You're not exactly a catch. I know that he cares for me, but that isn’t necessarily enough.
Jakob's eyes turn back to me and they're filled with something that looks like fear and trepidation. "I haven't had a woman in my life in a long time and I haven't wanted one. And then you came along. And it's..."
I run my hand down my stomach. "Complicated?"
"Complicated..." He reaches out and locks his pinkie around mine, “…but good. Amazing. Confusing."
I feel my throat tighten up as I wonder how things would be different if we'd met under different circumstances...I immediately feel guilty for the thought. I love my baby.
"But Lily, what we have isn't meaningless," he says softly, "I just haven't figured out what it means yet."
I drop my head, ashamed as big, fat, pregnant-girl tears stream down my face. Fuck these hormones. "God, I'm a mess..." I laugh through my sniffles.
"You're not a mess," he tells me in a serious tone. "You're perfect."
He's the one who's perfect and kind and beneath all those layers of scar tissue and old hurts, he has the biggest heart. I could fall in love with him so easily. Any sane woman would.
He ducks his head so that our eyes catch. "Be patient with me."
I swing our joined hands back and forth. My brain is telling me to run, to get out so I don't get hurt. Trevor asked for my patience and I waited dutifully only to get my hopes and dreams shattered. I’d be a fool to make the same mistake again.
But my heart is telling me that maybe, just maybe Grumpy Jakob Wilkinson is the second chance I'm in need of. The two are at war and I can't in good conscience make him any promises. As much as I want him, the baby's wellbeing is my priority.
"I’ve got to go. It’s time to test Mini’s blood sugar," I say as I disentangle our fingers.
"Lily..."
I take off on the path back toward the house. I don't look back.
Chapter 28
Jakob
I stare at the catastrophe sitting in the middle of the table. Lily claims that it's roasted chicken. What did that poor bird do to deserve such a fate?
It's just us tonight. Mini made a quick u-turn for her bedroom the moment she saw that strange-looking creature being yanked out of the oven. She's been looking a little green these days, to be honest, and she's been complaining about the prickly feeling in her feet. I need to set aside some money to take her to the doctor next week even if it burns a hole in my pocket.
Lily plops the mashed potatoes down in front of me, looking utterly exhausted. But there's something else too. Some of her spark is gone. Her eyes are dimmer, heavier.
You should have just told her, asshole. You should have told her how much you care about her. About the baby.
But I couldn't bring myself to say the words. They were right there on the tip of my tongue…And then Brittany flashed before my eyes and those words melted and turned acidic in my mouth.
The idea of a future with Lily scares me as much as it thrills me.
I want to be with her.
I want to go into town and buy a shitload of hangers so she can hang all those fancy, designer dresses in my closet. I want to put a bird feeder on the back porch so she can feed bread scraps to the bluejays every morning. I want to build her a gazebo where we can sit and drink hot cocoa in the fall while watching a yard full of our kids playing in the leaves.
I want her. There's no doubt about it. But what do I have to offer her that she can't find better elsewhere?
I keep trying to remind myself that Lily isn’t Brittany. Lily is kind and funny and caring. She’s curious and playful. And I can’t help but feel like she genuinely cares about me. Brittany was an opportunist who took advantage of my weaknesses and then left for greener pastures, not giving a fuck as she dragged my heart under her shoe. Still, I worry that opening myself completely again will just be a repeat of mistakes I’ve made before.
My eyes are on Lily as she grabs the curving knife and cuts into that roasted bird. She giggles softly with blonde tendrils falling over her brow as it becomes evident how undercooked the chicken is despite its burnt exterior. And god, she’s so beautiful. It brings a smile to my face.
I want to keep her forever. I want it so hard it makes my chest hurt.
Chapter 29
Lily
Jakob grips the handle above the passenger's side window as the rusty old truck barrels down the bumpy dirt lane. A flock of sheep scampers out of the way just in time.
He yelps over the sound of Johnny Cash filling the cabin. "Whoa, lady. Are you trying to give my livestock heart failure?"
"How do I slow it down? How do I slow it down?" I shriek, my knuckles numb from squeezing the wheel so hard. All I see up ahead is the river sprawling before us.
He yanks the steering wheel to the right and the vehicle veers violently. “Get your foot off the gas," he commands in a calm voice, “now, depress the brake pedal and the clutch." Centered firmly in survival mode, I do as I'm told. Thank god, we’re slowing down. “Now, clutch to the floor." Again I follow his instructions. The tires grate into the dirt on the edge of the river as the truck grinds to a rough, screeching stop. Dust and gravel pitch up all around. His hand settles over mine and moves to the gear pad. "Shift into neutral and take your foot off the clutch."
My heart continues to judder in my chest even though we’ve managed to stop safely. “Ready to try again?” he asks almost immediately.
I groan, shooting him a look. “Why are you making me do this?”
He’s much calmer than I am. “Because you don't have a car and if ever you need to run an errand with my truck or if there's an emergency with Mini, I need to make sure that you have practice driving a stick shift."
I'm sick to my stomach. I don't know if it's nerves or morning sickness or a combination of both but this isn't a good feeling. "My poor baby," I grumble as my heart rate begins to level out again, "his brains must be scrambled up in there." I caress my belly in soft circles.
Jakob's hand stretches across the gear shifter and settles on top of mine. "You think you've got a little boy in there?" His eyes twinkle with restrained excitement that gets my heart to pound all over again.
Moments like these light a spark in me, a spark of hope, an optimism that Jakob and I may be able to evolve into something more. A little over than
a month ago, I hadn't even met this man yet and now he's here, sharing my excitement, listening to my worries, calming my fears. He's a bigger part of this baby's life than his own father is. It makes me care about Jakob even more, as if I needed another reason.
But we still haven't revisited the conversation we started the other day. He still hasn't told me what he wants out of this thing between us. I don't want press the issue. Nobody likes getting harassed by an annoying telemarketer or a desperate car salesman. I don't want to come across as a needy pregnant chick scouting for a daddy figure for her baby. If things are going to progress between us, it has to happen naturally. I can’t force it.
Dirty Farmer (The Dirty Suburbs Book 6) Page 10
