by Freya Barker
He chuckles at my snippy tone as he reaches for my hand and slides his fingers between mine. “I’m buying you a bed.”
“I have a bed,” I point out.
“It’s a queen and the mattress is lumpy.”
“It’s big enough for me and it’s comfy.”
“For you, but since I plan on spending time in it we need one bigger.”
“Rafe,” I get his attention to try and talk some sense into him. “You already have a big bed.”
“Taz,” he mimics me. “We’re getting rid of your bed, and my bed, and buying a bed for us.”
I remind him of our conversation last night. “I thought you said we’d wait until the time is right?”
“To knock walls down, yes. Right now the time is perfect to pick out a bed we both like, without the kids running interference.”
“You’re charging ahead,” I caution him, but he has an answer for that too.
“I’m planning ahead. Big difference.”
I give up. He’s wearing a smug grin; everything I say seems to bounce off. So I mumble the only thing one can in a situation like this.
“Whatever.”
I ignore his soft chuckle as he drives us to Mountain View to shop for a new bed.
We strike out at Anderson Home Furnishings, despite the very gung-ho and borderline harassing sales associate.
I ended up being marched right out the store after the guy—in all his eagerness to make a sale—decided to help me test the bed I was trying.
I felt almost bad for him when Rafe turned around from the mattress he’d been inspecting, and in two long strides stood beside us, growling at the man as he unceremoniously yanked me off the bed. The sales clerk must’ve recognized his mistake because he didn’t even bother to stop us when we walked straight out the door. Actually, Rafe stalked and I was almost running to keep up with him, all the time fighting to hold back the fit of giggles threatening to let loose. That would probably not have gone over well.
We get to our next stop in silence. It’s not until Rafe pulls into a parking spot out front of JB’s Beds that he speaks.
“Don’t wander off on your own.”
I probably should be insulted, but his comment sparks the bout of hilarity I’ve been suppressing. I toss my head back and crack up.
I was right, he doesn’t think it’s amusing, but that doesn’t stop the tears of laughter rolling down my cheeks.
“I don’t see what’s funny.”
“You are,” I finally manage, hiccupping. “With your generally laid-back attitude, you sure hid that alpha streak well.”
“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” he grumbles, getting out of the truck.
That strikes me as funny too, but one look at the dark scowl on his face as he rounds the hood to get to my side, and I swallow it down. Discovering his mile-wide possessive streak is a shockingly pleasant surprise, but I’m smart enough not to poke the bear.
Too much.
Rafe
Well, that takes care of the date.
I’m more than merely annoyed at this chain of events.
First that snot-nosed punk crawling in bed with my woman. Then bumping in to Sheila fucking Quinn in the parking lot of JB’s Beds. I’d lowered Taz from the cab of the truck and pressed her against the side to kiss the laughter from her mouth, when the woman walked out of the salon right next to the mattress store. There was no doubt the queen of the Eminence gossip tree had caught our spirited lip-lock from the shocked expression on her face.
What the fuck are the odds?
To top it off, we discovered after Taz and I managed to agree on a mattress, frame, and headboard, that JB’s Beds was cash and carry only. There’s no way I’m going to the drive-in with a bed and mattress strapped to the bed of the truck.
“You know,” Taz carefully breaks my silent brood. “We can still go for dinner. We can ask for a table by the window so we can keep an eye on the truck while we eat.”
I immediately feel guilty for my foul mood. Taz has taken the events of this afternoon in stride, even the encounter with the gossip queen, merely rolling with the bumps. All I’ve done is get increasingly frustrated because things weren’t going to plan.
I take her hand and by way of apology press my lips to her palm. “After dinner we’ll go home, rent a few pay-per-view movies, and test the new mattress on the living room floor. Just the two of us.”
The response I get is a wide grin. “That sounds perfect.”
Flossie’s Apple Barrel is far from romantic gourmet fare, but the stick-to-your-ribs home cooking seems to fit both of us better.
When we get home just the two of us turns into four of us. I’d forgotten about Lilo and Stitch, who are thrilled we are home and waste no time trying out their new giant dog bed.
“This isn’t exactly what I had in mind,” I admit, making Taz snicker again, which she’s been doing a lot of.
But this time I flop on my back on the mattress and laugh right along with her.
“Rafe?”
I direct my gaze from the scrolling movie credits on the screen down to where Taz’s head is resting on my shoulder, her face turned up. “Yeah, Sweets.”
“Do you think Sheila is going to spill the beans?”
I bend to press a kiss to her forehead before answering. “I think that’s pretty much guaranteed.”
“That means Mom and Dad will find out soon.”
“Very likely.”
“Shit.”
I roll us until she’s on her back and I’m leaning over her. “Most definitely, but maybe it’s better out in the open. Rip off the bandage so to speak.” I touch my hand to the side of her face and she leans into it.
“But the kids…”
“We’ll make sure they’re shielded. At least until we head up to go camping in two weeks. We’ll tell them ourselves then.”
“Aren’t you worried it’s too soon?”
My instinct is to evade the question, but I promised honesty. “It probably is, but…” I quickly add, “…these aren’t exactly normal circumstances. It’s not like they’ll be introduced to someone new they have to accept into their lives. You’re already in their lives. They already love you. When you think about it, little will change for them.”
She seems to think on that for a minute. “I guess that’s true. Seeing us being affectionate with each other, or when we start sleeping in the same bed every night, will take getting used to, but kids at this age tend to take their cues from the people they love. If we don’t put too much weight on it, they likely won’t either.”
“We need to make sure certain people don’t have a chance to paint what is happening with a negative brush.”
“You’re talking about Mom and Dad.” I hate the sadness in those pretty brown eyes.
“Yeah. I’m not entirely sure how your dad will react, but I’m pretty positive Mom won’t be thrilled. We’ll have to brace for that.”
Now she grins. “I’m always braced around my parents, Rafe. I’m conditioned that way.”
“So noted.” I grin back and drop a quick kiss on her lips. “Now why don’t you head up and I’ll let the dogs out before crating them.”
“What about the mattress?”
“That’s going in your room tomorrow.” I get to my feet, not giving her a chance to object. “Go on up. I’ll be there soon.”
By the time the dogs are safe in their crate, I’ve locked up the house, and peek around the bedroom door; Taz looks to be asleep. I do my nighttime routine in the master bath, strip down to my boxers, and make my way back to the spare bedroom.
The moment I slide under the covers, though, Taz rolls over to face me, her eyes barely open.
“Rafe?”
“Yes, baby.”
“That was a great date,” she mumbles, her eyes already drifting shut again.
“The best.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Taz
I pull the CRV along the curb in front
of Mrs. Myers’ house and see the curtains in the window move.
My least favorite stop of the day, even though on Friday she was surprisingly subdued. I have a suspicion she’ll have plenty to say today. It’s been an interesting weekend, some of which I’m sure has filtered through to her. It doesn’t take much in this town.
After an interesting day on Saturday, yesterday had been blissfully drama free.
We took the dogs out for a long hike in the woods and while they were sleeping off the morning’s exercise, Rafe and I took apart the bed in my room and hauled it downstairs to the truck, before replacing it with the new bed and mattress. It fits, but it’s tight.
We drove into town, dropped off the old bed at the thrift store, and picked up groceries for the week ahead. Aside from a few curious glances—which I almost don’t notice anymore—that exercise was uneventful, although I’d hoped to run into Meredith, but she was off.
A quiet night, a thorough testing of the new bed, and a good night’s rest closed out the weekend.
But now it’s back to regular scheduling, which means Mrs. Myers is waiting inside.
“Took you long enough.”
I take a minute to take a deep breath and greet the tongue-lolling Charlton first. You’d never know the docile, friendly dog is the same one who tried mauling my arm less than a week ago. He doesn’t seem to have anything against me, just to bath time.
“Afternoon, Mrs. Myers.” I force a smile for the older woman and set my medical kit on the coffee table and fish out some gloves. “How are you today?”
I barely listen to her laundry list of complaints—only mumbling sympathetically every now and then—while I focus on cleaning her wound, and change the dressing.
“Are you listening?” Her sharp tone draws my attention.
“I’m sorry, what was that?”
“I asked you when your parents will be home? I’ve missed them at church.”
I bet.
“Tomorrow, actually. They left Kentucky this morning.” I can almost see her mind churning as she narrows her eyes on me. Before she has a chance to say anything, however, I quickly add, “Which is why I should really get going. Lots of stuff to do before the kids come home.” I quickly stuff my things in my bag, but not fast enough.
“You mean your sister’s home.”
There it is. I thought I might be able to get away without a confrontation, but I guess that was too much to ask. I could ignore her and walk out, but I promised myself I wouldn’t give her the satisfaction.
“Actually, it’s technically Rafe’s home—his name is on the deed—and I guess since I live there on invitation, it’s my home too.” I force a wide grin—determined to kill with kindness—and toss my bag over my shoulder. “I’ll see you on Wednesday, Mrs. Myers. Same time.”
I have my hand on the door before she has a chance to hiss her response.
“Shameless.” She intends the word to injure, but ironically it does exactly the opposite.
I should be without shame. There’s been enough of it loaded on my shoulders, by myself as much as others.
With my shoulders straight and my head held high, I walk out the door, not even giving her the satisfaction of a retort.
I assume Rafe is out on a call since I don’t see his truck parked in the driveway when I get home. The house is quiet without the dogs he either has with him, or left at the clinic. With nothing demanding my attention, I head upstairs to try out the Jacuzzi tub in the master bath I’ve been eyeing for months.
I spend a few minutes filling the tub with sudsy water and adjusting the jets before lowering myself in. I lie back and manage to enjoy it for about two minutes before I get restless. Not wanting to waste the tub full of water, I grab for my phone I left on the ledge.
“What’s up?” Kathleen answers on the third ring.
“Nothing much. I’m having a bath.” Knowing she would understand.
“You hate baths.”
“I know, but I thought maybe the jets would make it more interesting,” I confess a little sheepishly. “I’m a little disappointed.”
Kathleen laughs at me. “You haven’t changed one bit. Still can’t sit still long.”
“Whatever. What are you doing anyway?” I hear clanging in the background. She accuses me of not being able to sit still, but she’s no different.
“Emptying the dishwasher.” See? “Damn kids, I grabbed for a glass this morning and the cupboard was empty. Thirty-six damn glasses and not a single one on the shelf. Spent an hour going around the house with a tub, collecting plates and cups and cutlery from every nook and cranny. Jesus, some of the plates looked like science experiments—you don’t even wanna know.”
I stifle a chuckle since she was no different growing up. I clearly remember Kathleen’s bedroom looking like the aftermath of a bomb explosion most of the time. Her own mom used to be forever on her case, trying to get her to clean her room and bring down the dirty dishes.
“I remember—” I barely get the word out before she cuts me off.
“Yeah, yeah. Mom would probably have a good laugh at my expense if she could see me now.”
Kathleen lost her mother fifteen years ago quite suddenly. “Do you still miss her?” I ask, suddenly serious.
“Every day. People say it gets easier, but I think you simply get used to the pain. Do you miss Nicky?”
“Every day,” I echo, trailing my fingers through the disappearing suds. “I can’t wrap my head around how it is possible to be happy, and still hurt so much.”
“Oh, honey…that’s life. That’s adulting. Nothing is ever all good or all bad.”
“He bought me a bed.”
It’s silent on the other side. I try to wait her out, my hand reaching for the edge of the tub, holding on tight. “Kathleen?” I finally prompt.
“Wow. Not wasting any time.”
I can’t quite gauge from her tone whether that’s a good thing or not, so I nervously start rambling. “My bed was lumpy and his bed…well…anyway, I know it sounds fast, but it’s really not when you think about it. Besides, he has plans.”
“I’d say,” she interrupts, but I ignore her.
“He showed me his drawings.”
“I’m sure he did.” This time she chuckles and I take that as a good sign.
“He wants to build a new master suite. When the time is right, of course. Although that might be sooner than we planned now that bitch, Sheila, is probably running off her mouth.”
“Stop,” Kathleen orders and my mouth snaps shut. “I’m having a hard time following. How does Sheila fit into building a master suite?”
“Not the new bedroom. The new bed,” I clarify, noting that the water is getting a little chilly.
“Honey, that’s not helping,” she notes dryly.
“Hang on, I’m gonna put you on speaker, I’ve gotta get out of this tub.” I put the phone on speaker and set it on the toilet tank while I get out. “So we stopped at JB’s Beds in Mountain View…”
“Shopping for a new bed.”
“…Obviously. Anyway…” I say pointedly, trying to keep us on track while I dry myself off, “…we’re in the parking lot at JB’s, and Sheila walks out of the hairdresser’s, and sees us”
“So? I don’t see the problem?”
“Well, seeing as Rafe had me pinned against the side of the truck and had his tongue in my mouth, I’m sure you’d agree that’s a pretty significant problem.”
“I see.”
“Right? I’d bet good money that snippet of news is making its way around Eminence as we speak. Hang on, taking you off speaker.” I wrap the towel around me, put the phone to my ear and make my way to the bedroom to get dressed. “My parents and the kids are coming home tomorrow, how long do you figure it’ll take before they hear it?”
“You’ll have a week’s reprieve, at least,” she concludes.
She catches me with one foot suspended as I’m putting on clean underwear, almost putting me on my ass. �
�How do you figure that?”
“Saw her and Brady drive out of town yesterday morning pulling the boat trailer. Sheila usually runs roughshod over the man, but when it comes to his annual fishing trip to Roaring River State Park, he’s got an iron will. They’re usually gone for a week.”
I slump down on the edge of the bed. “Still not a lot of time,” I point out.
“Maybe not, but enough to stay ahead of the game.”
Rafe
“There you are.”
Taz’s head whips around already smiling.
I went looking through the entire house before I noticed the front door open a crack. She’s on her knees next to one of the large planters, her dreads tied back with a handkerchief, and a smudge of dirt on her cheek. She appears to be pulling weeds.
“I was going to cook dinner, but I got a little distracted. Are you okay with grilled cheese and a salad?”
I bend down and kiss her upturned face. “Don’t worry about dinner, I’ll toss some burgers on the grill. What are you doing?”
“I’m weeding.”
“That part I got,” I assure her with a grin. “What I’m curious about is what brought that on?”
“Oh.” She brushes her forehead with the back of her hand, leaving a fresh streak of dirt. “Well, I was putting clean sheets on Sofie’s bed and noticed the picture she has on her dresser: the one with her sitting on the edge of the planter in front of the house.”
“I know the one.”
“The planters had flowers in them. Gardening was never my thing, it was Nicky’s, but I thought maybe it would be nice to put something in these planters for when they get home tomorrow. How hard can it be? I noticed a garden center on the way to Mountain View Saturday; I thought maybe I could pick some up tomorrow morning. Make it look pretty before they get here.”
“I’m not sure Spencer will notice but Sofie probably would.”
“Yeah?” Her pleased smile lights up her face, but I have a suspicion it won’t last.
“Absolutely. In fact, I’m sure she’ll love giving you a hand.” At her confused expression I rip off the bandage. “Your mom called fifteen minutes ago; they stopped for an early dinner in Dexter. They decided to drive straight through and should be home in a little over an hour.”
