by Sophie Stern
It feels crazy.
But it also feels wonderful, and I think that’s what scares me the most.
Chapter Seven
Heath
“Silas, can you hand me the milk?”
“Yep,” Silas says, and he reaches for the glass bottle of milk that’s sitting on the counter. Carefully, he hands it to me. He’s trying so hard to hold it steady, but the milk is still sloshing around in the bottle. Luckily, the top is on tightly, so there’s no chance of it spilling out.
“Careful,” Sebastian says with a warning in his voice. He watches his brother carefully, doing his best to make sure that Silas is cautious as he moves.
“I am,” Silas says.
“Good,” Sebastian nods in approval.
“Thank you,” I tell him when he finally hands me the milk. He grins, and his smile is full of pride and happiness. He’s a good kid. They both are.
I hand Sebastian the bowl and a mixing spoon. I show him how to start stirring the pancake mixture.
“Okay, keep stirring,” I tell him. “Silas and I are going to add the milk, and we don’t want to spill.”
“No spills,” Sebastian repeats. Then he laughs and starts stirring the bowl a little bit faster.
“Gentle stirs,” I tell him. “Gentle hands. Remember: we aren’t in a rush, okay? We have plenty of time, so let’s be gentle with the spoon.”
“Gentle,” he repeats.
“Good.”
He keeps stirring and as he does, Silas and I carefully pour in the right amount of milk. The dough starts to thicken a little, and Sebastian struggles, but I nod to him.
“You got this,” I say, because he does. Learning to make pancakes is one of my favorite childhood memories. It’s one of the best things that my mother ever did for me. She used to let me sit with her while she cooked, and in turn, I got to enjoy...everything.
The boys and I finish making the dough, and then I show them how I heat up the pan.
“This part is just for me,” I tell them. I’m happy to let them help, but I have no idea just how far their kitchen experience extends and besides, I’m not about to let Theresa think I’m a terrible babysitter.
She’s a fantastic mom. I can already tell. No matter what anyone says, she’s the type of woman who always does her best and who helps the people around her.
Including these kids.
It’s strange to me that she didn’t have children of her own, but found it in her heart to adopt these boys who didn’t have parents. She didn’t have to do that, but she did. There was nothing forcing her to reach out and assist these kids, but she did. She did it for them.
She did it because it was the right thing to do.
I can’t imagine how scared she must have been to find out that her new children aren’t human, but I mean, who would have even though to ask that?
It’s not like when you’re adopting a kid there’s a checkbox that queries, “Are you comfortable adopting kids who might be able to change into your favorite type of animal?” I mean, come on.
Nope, these kids were a gift for her, absolutely, but they were also a surprise. In my opinion, she’s handling that surprise with total grace.
“So what do you like to do?” I ask the boys as I start frying up the pancakes. It’s taking all of my strength not to sit here and picture what Theresa looks like naked in my shower. That’s where she is, after all. She’s in my shower, soaping up her curvy body. She’s letting the water rush over her and she’s taking control of everything she has.
I love that even though she was scared last night, she didn’t lose sight of who she was.
“I like trains,” Silas tells me.
“Me too.” Sebastian smiles up at me. These kids are adorable as hell. They’re clever, too, and charming. She’s going to have her hands full with them because they’re going to keep her on her toes. I get the feeling that they’re not going to be afraid to try to charm their way out of trouble without a second thought.
“Do you have trains?”
“I have a red train,” Sebastian nods.
“I have a red train and a blue train and a yellow train,” Silas tells me.
“And I have a green train,” Sebastian adds.
“And I have an orange train.”
The boys keep listing off their different train and boxcar colors, and I do my best to focus on what they’re saying, but suddenly, her scent wafts over me. It’s mixed with my own and when I look up, I see her standing in the entrance to the kitchen.
What’s more is that she’s wearing my shirt.
No wonder she smells like me.
I’ve never been mated before. Oh, I dated Emily for a very long time, and we were desperately in love, or so I thought, but I never felt the urge to claim her as my own. I never needed to mark her.
Not like this.
With Theresa, I find myself craving her. I find myself completely delighting in the way she looks and the way she sounds. When she opens her mouth to speak, I just want to slide my tongue over those perfect lips and make her fall silent under my touch.
There is so very much that I want when it comes to her.
“Welcome to the pancake room,” I tell her. I fight myself to keep from licking my lips. The last thing these kids need is to see me going totally crazy over their mom.
“Thank you,” she smiles. “I can see you boys are getting a lot done.”
“Look what I did!” Sebastian proudly points to the bowl. Silas does, too.
“We stirred.”
“Wow, you stirred?” She looks from the bowl to me and back again. “Good job, boys. Did Mr. Heath help you?”
“Yeah!”
She laughs and nods.
“Okay, why don’t you go to the bathroom and wash your hands? I’m going to talk to Heath for a minute, okay? And I think it’s going to be a few minutes before the food is ready.”
“Just a few,” I tell her.
The boys hop down from their stools, scurry out of the kitchen, and go into the bathroom. They close the door behind themselves and lock it, which should probably worry me. I have no idea how much splashing or soap-spilling they’re about to get into, but right now, I don’t even care.
All I care about is her.
“You’re wearing my shirt.”
“I hope you don’t mind.”
“Do I look like I mind?” I wink at her, and she chuckles.
“Not really.”
“I don’t.”
“So,” she looks around at the messy kitchen. “You like cooking.”
“I probably spend more time in the kitchen than any guy you’ve ever met.”
“That’s kind of cool, actually,” she says. Theresa leans against the counter and looks over at me. “What’s your favorite thing to cook?”
“Any kind of meat.”
“Figures,” she laughs.
Just then, Spot comes into the room and rubs up against her legs.
“Aw, hey boy,” she says. “I wondered where you were.”
“He went out this morning to run around.”
Spot was totally riled up after having such an adventure yesterday. I love my dog, but I don’t want him running around inside the cabin. I was happy he made himself comfortable running around outside. It’s one of the best reasons for living out here in the mountains. He can run and be free. He can explore and roam and have fun. He can hunt or swim or do whatever he likes. He can lead a happy life, and that’s all I really want for my pup.
It’s all I really want for anyone.
“So tell me something,” she says. “What’s your favorite thing about living out here?”
“The freedom.”
“From what?”
“Everything.”
“Not a city guy, huh?”
“Not so much.”
“I understand,” she says wistfully. She reaches for her hair and twirls it a little. “I’ve been thinking about leaving the city.”
I’m a little surpri
sed.
“Why?”
Theresa looks at me like she’s trying to decide whether or not she’s going to trust me with her answer. It’s okay. It’s a hard decision: trusting someone. The reality is that we’ve only just met, but still, I’m curious as to why the little minx doesn’t want to be in the city anymore. She’s got kiddos, after all. Doesn’t she want to be close to family?
“It’s my job.”
“What about it?”
“There’s been a lot of pressure lately,” she says. “I’m ready for something new.” She lets out a deep sigh of relief, as though she’s been holding it in. Somehow, I get the idea that Miss Theresa has been carrying around the weight of the world with herself, and that makes me feel just terrible.
“What about your job?”
“My assistant is...well, she’s a bit intense.”
“How?”
“Remember how I said she’s always booking things for me? Well, it’s not just once in awhile. It’s constantly. She thinks that it’s important and it’s just part of her pushing me forward. In some ways, it’s nice. She takes care of everything. All I have to do is just show up, but sometimes...sometimes it just feels like I’ve been playing the role of who I’m supposed to be and not actually playing myself. Does that make sense?”
“A little too much sense,” I tell her. “That’s how I felt with my ex. I mean, catching her cheating with my friend was a fucking nightmare, but in some ways, it was kind of a relief. I didn’t know just how much I’d been holding my breath in that relationship until it was over. I didn’t realize that she’d been holding me captive in so many different ways.”
“Then it ended, and you felt free.”
“Pretty much.”
“Seems pretty indicative of a toxic relationship.”
“Speaking from experience?”
She shrugs, and I wonder exactly what her past dating history looks like. Not that it matters. My bear wants her, and I do, too. She could tell me she’s a virgin or she could tell me she was a porn star and it wouldn’t matter to me at all.
Just then, she turns around.
“Hey, has it been awhile since the kids left?”
Shit.
I turn off the stove and move the pan before the pancakes burn. I slide the pancakes I was cooking onto a plate and then we head over to the bathroom.
“Kids?” She called out, turning the knob, but it doesn’t budge. “It’s locked,” Theresa looks at me. “Silas? Sebastian? Open up!”
We hear giggling inside.
“You’re going to have to break the door down!” She gasps dramatically, and I laugh at her.
“Or I could use the key.”
I reach over to a side table that has a small jar, a couple of books, and the key. Then I grab it and unlock the bathroom door. Theresa looks at my little setup before turning back to me.
“A reader?”
“What can I say?” I shrug. “I’m a romantic at heart.”
I push open the bathroom door and sure enough, the kids have gotten into just a little bit of trouble. They pulled down all of the towels and Silas is hanging from the towel rack while Sebastian is dancing in the bathtub.
Theresa steps inside and pales when she sees what the kids are doing.
She opens her mouth, but I place a hand on her shoulder.
“It’s okay,” I tell her.
“But-”
“Hey boys,” I turn to the kids. “Let’s get down, okay? Remember that this isn’t how we play inside the house, right?”
The kids giggle. Sebastian comes out of the bathtub, but Silas keeps swinging like a damn monkey.
“Sebastian,” Theresa says. “Please get down and tell Mr. Heath that you’re sorry. That’s not how we act when we’re visiting someone.”
She reaches for him and tugs. He releases his iron grip on the towel rack and drops to the floor. Then he turns around.
“Can you help clean up the towels?” Theresa asks.
“Okay,” he says. Together, they reach down and pick up the towels that the boys dropped around the room. It’s a small bathroom, and it’s a tight fit for all of us in here, so I take Silas and head out to go back to the kitchen.
“You’re lucky,” I tell Sebastian. “You have a good mom.”
“She’s my mommy.”
“She’s the best mom.”
Silas looks up at me and smiles.
“The best mom.”
Chapter Eight
Theresa
We eat breakfast and then help Heath tidy up the kitchen. By the time we’re finished, it’s mid-morning, and I realize that I should probably head back to our campsite. The kids are ready to run around and honestly, I feel a little bad for taking up so much of his time. Maybe I shouldn’t. He doesn’t seem to mind that we’re here, and that’s kind of wonderful, actually. If anything, I get the impression that Heath likes having the company.
I feel like he enjoys having us in his space, and that he likes playing dad to the kids. He doesn’t have children of his own, which is just so crazy to me because he’s really, really good with my boys.
Like, unbelievably good.
“We should probably get going,” I finally say.
“What? No!” Silas and Sebastian say in unison.
“We don’t want to impose on Mr. Heath too much more,” I tell the kids.
“You aren’t imposing at all,” he tells me. “In fact, I have an idea.” He wiggles his eyebrows and turns to the kids. “Hey, while I talk to your mom, can you boys go outside and find ten good sticks for me? Spot loves to run around and play fetch, but I never have enough sticks.”
“Okay!” The kids both take off outside and the door slams behind them. Then Heath strides across the room and kisses me deeply. Instantly, I’m up on my toes and I feel like my heart is going to fucking melt.
“What was that for?” I ask.
“A request.”
“What?”
“How much longer is your planned vacation?”
“I’m going back tomorrow,” I tell him.
“What if I take you to your campsite and we gather up your stuff? You could stay here one more night, and then I’ll drive you back to your car tomorrow.”
I look at him curiously, trying to figure out the catch. I don’t think that he wants sex from me. Well, that’s not true, but I don’t think he’s using it as some sort of bargaining chip. He’s not the kind of guy who would take a woman for granted like that. He definitely wouldn’t try to pressure anyone.
“You aren’t busy?” I ask him. “You wouldn’t mind having a strange lady and her little kids hanging around?”
“Not at all,” he says. “In fact, I rather liked playing house with you all this morning. I could go for another day. What do you think?”
He strokes my cheek, touching me gently, and I practically melt into him. Why can’t I resist this guy?
More importantly, why don’t I want to resist this guy?
“I think it sounds wonderful.”
Heath seems just as surprised as I am. Maybe that’s okay, though. My entire life is planned. Every single day, I have a schedule for how many words I have to write and how many tasks I have to accomplish. My entire world revolves around writing for deadlines, but right now, I don’t have any of those responsibilities.
Right now, I have the absolute freedom to just lose myself here in this cabin with this man, and I kind of want to take it.
I kind of want to forget about all of the stress I’ve been dealing with and all of the work I’ve had to do, and I just want to think about him and how wonderful he is.
“Really?”
“Really.”
He kisses me again, and then he steps back just as the kids come barreling into the house. I have to respect the fact that he’s discreet. It’s not that my kids aren’t allowed to know I date, but they’re small, and the reality is that spending a couple of days making out with a stranger isn’t the same thing as me falling in love
or dating long-term or heaven forbid, getting married. I need to make sure my kids have a stable life. They don’t need to get their hopes up that some guy is going to be around long-term only to have him leave.
That’s not fair to them, and it’s not fair to me, and it’s not even fair to the guy.
In this case, though, I can’t help but wish things were different. I mean, Heath is an incredible guy who has obviously been really hurt in the past. Is it so bad that I’d love to date him? He feels like a hero from one of the books I write. He feels like someone who could change your entire life if you’d only just let him.
And oh, I kind of want to let him.
He’s sexy and kind and I don’t really see a single thing wrong with him except for the fact that he’s been burned before. Is it terrible that I feel horrible for him? And I kind of hate his ex. I know there are two sides to every story, but I think that what she did was just nasty. She had no right to do that to him. Staying faithful when you’re dating someone shouldn’t be the hardest thing in the world. She should have talked to him if she was having a hard time with their relationship.
She didn’t have to throw it in the trash.
No, she didn’t have to throw him in the trash.
“Did you boys find ten sticks?” Heath asks the kids.
“I found six,” Silas says proudly.
“I found seven,” Sebastian counters.
“I found eight,” Silas glares at his brother.
“I found one million,” Sebastian snaps.
Spot runs around them in a circle, happily laughing.
“Why don’t you boys go throw the sticks and have Spot fetch them for you?” I suggest. “I bet he’d like that.”
“Oh yeah, that’s his favorite game,” Heath encourages them.
The kids laugh and take off back through the door.
“Let them play for a little while,” Heath says. “Then we’ll go get your supplies.”
“I have everything I need right here.” I step forward again and I press my hands to his chest. Firm, broad, and warm: he’s everything I want. I feel like a teenager again as I kiss him over and over, and it’s kind of crazy just how much his playfulness and flirting is turning me on. I can’t remember ever feeling quite this excited about a guy before. There’s something different about him: something magical.
