by Freya Barker
With Isla tucked in beside me, despite the nurse’s objections, Al and Gus get us up to speed. I can’t believe my sister is waking up. Mak was in here earlier, crying when she saw both Isla and me bandaged up. Poor kid. I almost choked up when she threw herself in my arms. For once, Neil’s cocky charm came in handy when he expertly coaxed her out of the room with the promise of unhealthy candy and violent video games on his laptop.
“She was treated for dog bites and is on her way to Durango where she’ll be held in the hospital psychiatric ward for assessment. The DA can figure out what to do with her there,” Gus says.
“I heard a shot,” I point out.
“Yeah, Caleb fired in the air. Your damn animal was about to tear the woman’s throat out. It was the only way he could get the dog’s attention away from her.”
“Where is...” Isla starts, but I cut her off with my hand on her mouth. Something I’ve had to do a few times to keep her quiet. Her glance is scorching when I look down at her.
“Pixie...” I growl softly to which she rolls her eyes.
“Told them to drop the mutt at the coffee shop,” Al says, looking at his niece. “Jen will look after him.”
“Not a mutt...” she mumbles behind my hand.
“I swear, woman, I’m going to slap duct tape on that mouth if you don’t keep it zipped.”
I’m pretty sure I won’t have sex for the next five years, but at least she stays quiet after that.
Apparently, despite the poor radio connection, Caleb hadn’t been that far from where Isla was. Basically just in the woods on the other side of the road. He’d picked up just enough to know she was east of where he was, and with Atsa’s help was able to pick up her trail quickly. The dog had torn free of his leash when it spotted Isla being attacked. They’d found me hanging off the side of the bed, still tethered by my legs and one arm, which had almost been twisted out of its socket. I feel that, although I can’t remember much of my trip down to a waiting ambulance in the same sled Jahnee had apparently used to get me up to the cabin.
Isla had briefly blacked out from lack of oxygen, but had been able to walk back to the trail with just a little help.
“That is one seriously whacked woman,” Gus points out, when he gets ready to leave. “Did you see the gallery she had on the living room wall?”
“Can’t say I had an opportunity to take in the sights, no,” I answer rather sardonically.
“Might be best,” he says, with a quick glimpse at the woman by my side, before returning his gaze to me. “They’ve probably been taken down for evidence by now anyway.”
With a two-fingered salute and a chin lift, he turns, just as a doctor walks in. Gus slips by him out the door and immediately Al gets up as well.
“I’ll go see if I can get some news on your sister and find Mak.” He walks over to the bed and leans down, giving his niece a kiss on the forehead. “You keep that motor-mouth in check, will ya?” As he walks out of the door we can hear him mutter, “Damn girl will be the death of me yet.”
“Is it Ms. or Mrs. Ferris?” the snot-nosed doctor, who barely looks old enough to be wearing laced shoes, asks Isla.
“It’s Ms.—for now,” I answer for her, since she’s not supposed to be talking and this dumbass is asking her questions.
“Right,” he sputters, looking at the chart in his hands. “Well, I’m an OBGYN resident and am supposed to ask Ms. Ferris some questions.”
“That’ll be hard, because Ms. Ferris was told not to strain her voice, since someone tried to strangle her today.” I can hear my voice rising as frustration takes over, but Isla’s small hand on my chest calms me. Enough for something to register.
OBGYN?
“I apologize, I’ll do my best to ask only yes or no questions, although with the first one, that might a problem,” he says, looking nervously at me, before turning to Isla.
“When was your last period?”
Isla
Ohmygod. Ohmygod.
“Breathe, Pixie,” Ben’s deep voice penetrates my panicked inner chant.
I try, but I end up coughing, which hurts my throat like you wouldn’t believe and tears spring to my eyes. Somewhere in the background I hear the click of a door closing, and the next thing I know is Ben’s face looming over mine.
“You okay, baby?”
“Baby...” I rasp between coughs. I watch as the worry melts off his face and is replaced by a shit-eating grin.
“So it seems,” he says, clearly not feeling my level of sheer panic, and I promptly burst into uncontrolled sobs. “Shhh,” he hushes, rolling on his back and taking me with him, somehow managing to keep both of us from rolling off the narrow bed.
“Too much...” I mumble against his chest when the tears slow down, still feeling utterly overwhelmed. It is all a bit much to take in one sitting; although it’s becoming quite clear Ben and I aren’t destined to live a nice, steady, predictable life.
There was a time, before Ben, when I would dream of some excitement, but I have to admit at this point, I’ve had about all the excitement I can handle.
“Never too much. Not with you,” he whispers in my hair and my sobs start all over again.
I managed to keep it together for twenty-four of the most harrowing hours of my life, tracked down my man, was almost killed by a lunatic, was saved by the best dog in the world, only to find out I’m having that baby I was told I’d probably never have.
I just started to come to terms with it, too. At least I thought I was.
A baby.
How am I going to raise a baby on the side of a mountain? If I can’t keep track of my grown ass man, who the hell decided it was a good idea to put me in charge of a child?
Ohmygod. I’m going to have to give birth. But first I’m going to be big as a whale. What if something is wrong? We’re not exactly spring chickens, aren’t there things that can go wrong?
“That’s why he says they’ll monitor closely,” Ben says, making it clear that my quiet private meltdown wasn’t quite as private, or quiet, as I thought it was.
“I don’t think I can do this,” I admit, looking up at him, more than a little pissed when I see him smile.
“I don’t think you have much of a choice at this point.”
“A little less of the cocky would be good,” I snap, hurting my throat in the process, but it only makes his grin bigger. He puts his mouth close to my ear.
“Can’t recall you complaining about that when I was planting my kid in you.”
I’m about to hit him when a woman in scrubs pushes a machine into the room.
“Ready?” she asks with a bright smile.
“You bet,” Ben says, with all the confidence in the world as he scoots off the bed, despite my protests, and sits down on the chair beside it. My efforts to still his hands are pointless as he helpfully pulls up my shirt.
Only a few minutes later, our hands are tightly entwined as we get a first glimpse of our nugget, aptly named by Ben with his overt appreciation for fast food.
“This little one measures at about eighteen weeks. Do you want to know what it is?”
“You can see that?” Ben asks.
“Sure can.”
Ben looks at me and then both of us turn to the woman.
“Yes,” Ben says, just as I say, “No.” But one glance at the crestfallen look on his face when he turns to me with his mouth open, and I change my mind.
“Oh fine.”
Ben
“Hey, Sis.”
I smile despite the shock to my system the sight of Stacie’s bandaged body gives me. One of her eyes is covered under the thick padding and the other is half-opened. It’s looking straight at me though.
Mak is with Isla in my room, and I was able to bribe Al into wheeling me in a chair to the ICU. That nurse, Carol, was manning the desk but she took one look at me, then at Al, and threw her hands in the air, before purposely turning her back. Al chuckled behind me.
“Guessing you had a run
in with her, too?” I conclude.
“Sure did. Told me she figured we all belonged to the same family. Damn battle-axe missed her calling as drill sergeant.”
I reach out and carefully stroke my sister’s fingers that seem lost against the white blankets.
“You’re hurt,” she croaks. The observation, along with the sound of her voice, dislodges a sound that is half-cough, half-sob, from my throat.
“You still win,” I whisper, bending down to kiss her fingers. “I’m sorry.”
“Not your fault,” she says, and when I put my forehead to the mattress to hide my emotions, she lifts her hand and lets her fingers trail over my hair.
We stay quiet like that for a while, when Stacie clears her throat.
“You thirsty?” I ask, lifting my head. I spot a cup of water on her nightstand and carefully bend the straw to her lips.
“Where’s Mak?” she wants to know, her one eye scanning as much of the room as she can.
“Isla’s taking care of her in my room.” A little smile tugs at Stacie’s lips. “It’s good practice for Isla,” I add quietly, so only she can hear. I watch as her eye pops open and the small smile gets a little bigger.
CHAPTER 31
Isla
“Can I bring Mom a few cookies?”
Mak is pressing the Hershey’s Kisses in the hazelnut cookies we just rolled. It’s the third load. We’ve got two trays cooling, two trays in the oven, and two more in production. Ben thinks I’ve gone crazy, but I have this need to stuff my freezer to capacity with all the things I might not feel up to or have time for once this baby is here. Even if it is still months away, I have to make up for the eighteen weeks of prep time I missed out on.
I turn to her, smiling. “Absolutely, if you think she’s allowed?”
“She was eating a sandwich yesterday,” she says, shrugging her shoulders.
“Well good, then pack a few up.” I wipe the dishwater from my hands and pull a box of zipper bags from the drawer, handing them to her. “And fill a bag for the nurses’ station, too.”
Ben was released two days ago with orders to rest. Which, to me, means your feet up and napping when you can. However, in Ben’s world it means driving off on his ATV, my traitorous uncle following behind on mine, to go haul some dead wood from the clearing. My concerns were laughed off, which necessitated me to bake cookies or do some target practice on their asses. Since my baking skills are far superior to my shooting abilities—I have no wish to put this little bean in any danger—I quadrupled my recipe.
We are baking twelve dozen cookies; hence there are more than enough to share.
“They’re back,” Mak says, her gaze going out the window and mine follows automatically. I can hear the buzz of the engines and Atsa’s excited bark, just moments before they come into view.
I blow out a deep sigh, releasing tension I didn’t realize I was holding, and toss my towel on the counter. Mak is already up and running for the door and I follow behind, only marginally slower.
The moment she opens the door, Atsa comes bounding inside, shaking snow everywhere.
“I just cleaned that floor, puppy,” I grumble, grabbing a dirty towel from the laundry room and mopping up the mess. I should’ve waited, because I’m still on my knees, wiping, when both men come walking in, stomping the snow off their boots all around me.
“Oops,” Uncle Al says when I look up, giving both my dirtiest look, although Ben just smirks.
“Where’s the wood?”
“Dumped it by the shed,” my uncle clarifies to Mak. “We’re taking a break.”
I get to my feet and dart into the laundry room, to get rid of the wet towel, when I feel someone push inside behind me, closing the door.
Ben’s cold body wraps around me from behind and wet hands sneak under my flannel shirt.
“Dammit, Ben, that’s cold!” I blurt out when his frozen fingers touch my stomach.
“Don’t think I fucked you here, yet.”
I whip around and try to shove him off me, to no avail, clearly. I lift up on tiptoes and stick my face close to his.
“My uncle and your niece are right outside the door,” I hiss, not quite believing his gall.
“So?” he fires back, a smoldering fire in his eyes.
“So, there’s no way I’m letting you in my pants when they’re standing right outside,” I stage whisper.
“They’re in the kitchen by now. You can smell whatever it is you’re baking clear across to the shed. Why did you think Al was in such a hurry to get inside? Guaranteed he’s in the kitchen already, stuffing his face.”
“Tonight,” I promise, trying hard to keep a straight mind, while his hands continue to stroke and knead my skin.
“Now,” he rumbles, slipping those big paws down the back of my pants and giving my ass cheeks a good squeeze.
The ice blue of his eyes darkens as he lowers his head, and I’m almost hypnotized by the widening of his pupils, and his lips, when they touch mine, are still cool from the outside. His tongue, though, is hot in contrast, as he licks along the seam of my mouth, teasing me to open. The fire his kiss ignites is immediate. My hands, which had been planted flat in his chest to ward him off, now claw into his sweater, as he ravages my mouth.
We’ve snuggled, we’ve pecked, but we haven’t really kissed, or touched since before Ben was hit over the head. And even before that we’d had Mak in our bed every night since the explosion. I crave his touch, but I don’t want to sneak around in the laundry room.
“Ben...” I mumble against his lips when he tries to shove my pants down. “Ben, please, hold up.” This time his hands still as he pulls his head back. For a short while we just stare at each other, my eyes pleading and his getting stormier by the second. Until finally his hands drop away from my body and he hangs his head.
“Grabbing a shower,” he bites off, before he opens the door and walks out.
I’m frustrated, too, I want to call after him, but what’s the point in that, it’s not like he doesn’t know that.
When I walk into the kitchen, Uncle Al shoots me a smile before turning to Mak, who is back to unwrapping Kisses.
“You know what?” he says, turning to Mak. “I think I saw some elk tracks up on the edge of the clearing. Did you know that we have a pretty decent herd here on the mountain? They tend to be shy in the summer, especially with the cattle invading their space, but in the winter they’ll show themselves from time to time.” Now he turns to me with a smile. “First time I took Isla to go find them, she wasn’t much older than you are, and we ended up smack in the middle of the herd. We were looking so hard in one direction, we didn’t see a bunch of them come up behind us and suddenly they were just there. Remember that, girl?” he asks with a grin. I smile back, because I do remember. I remember almost peeing my pants from fear and from sheer excitement.
“She peed her pants,” he informs Mak, who suddenly smiles big.
Okay, so maybe I did wet myself, a little. Not every day you have a close encounter with a bunch of animals with antlers the size of a Buick, that look nothing like the Bambi you’d imagined. I shrug my shoulders at Mak, who giggles.
“How’s about you and me go see if we can find us some elk?” The girl looks up at him with big eyes.
“But Uncle Ben was going to take me to see Mom,” she says.
“We’re not going long. Your uncle is having a nice, relaxing shower first anyway.” My sneaky uncle throws me a wink before leading Mak out of the kitchen.
Five minutes later, after shoving Atsa back out the door with them, I sneak into the bedroom, listening to the water running in the shower. I strip out of my clothes quickly before stepping into the bathroom, where Ben’s large silhouette is outlined behind the mottled glass shower door.
His back is toward me, one hand leaning high up on the tile wall, the other moving lazily between his legs. My body responds instantly with a tightening of my nipples and a surge of heat through my core. He doesn’t seem to he
ar my sharp intake of breath at the sheer beauty of him, over the drone of the water.
Ben
I still my movements when I hear the door slide open, but before I can turn my head, small hands slip over my wet skin. From the low of my back, around to my stomach, and lower, to where my fist is still wrapped around my painful erection. One of her hands slips lower, cupping my balls, as the other curves around my cock at the root, right behind my own.
I can’t help it. I jerk at the sensation that triggers a distasteful memory, before I feel my body shutting down. I make a fast grab for her wrists.
“Stop,” I whisper. “I need to see you.”
Without a word, she releases her hold, slipping between the wall and me, as she looks up with eyes that hold a clear question.
“I need to know it’s you,” I try to explain, without spelling it out. She blinks a couple of times before her eyes grow big with understanding. Then her eyes turn to slits as angry determination washes over her face, and holding my gaze, she lowers herself to her knees. “Baby...”
“Shhh.” She purses her lips as she leans forward and kisses the tip of what’s left of my erection. “Keep your eyes on me,” she instructs, as she runs her tongue around the crown before sucking it between her lips.
So goddamn beautiful, with the water running down her face, clinging to her eyelashes, and the tip of her small nose. Those deep pink lips stretch wide as she slides the heat of her mouth over my quickly recovering cock, holding my eyes with hers. I finally let go of her wrists and brace myself with both hands against the wall behind her as her soft hands gently explore.
“Fuck,” I hiss when she swallows, her mouth massaging my length from root to tip.
All I see is Isla.
All I feel is Isla.
Her small fist wraps around me, working my cock in tandem with the strong suction of her mouth, and this time no one else is touching me. Just her. Just my Pixie.
Almost without warning, I can feel the pinpricks at the base of my spine spreading into a full body tingle, the instant before my balls tighten, and the first spurt surges out of me. My jaw drops as a low groan rumbles through my chest, but my eyes never let go of hers.
