Montana Mornings (The Wildes of Birch Bay Book 3)

by Kim Law

“I want that, too.”

  “Then next week’s game.” There was a determination in his words she’d not seen yet. “No excuses. It’s homecoming next week. Be my date. I want to go public, Erica. I won’t take no for an answer.”

  And she wouldn’t give him a no.

  It was time to move past her own issues. “JC and Lindsey’s affair came out at a football game,” she told him bluntly. “Someone noticed that she was pregnant and asked when she was due, and suddenly everyone surrounded her, gushing over her.” She licked her lips before continuing. “And JC chose that moment to rise from where he sat beside me, and to stand with her.”

  Understanding filled Gabe’s eyes.

  “Between congratulations, there were side eyes thrown my way. No one mentioned that JC was married to me. And no one seemed the least surprised to see him standing there with her. Except me.” Her voice broke. “I was humiliated. It was clear I was the only person in that crowd shocked to discover that my husband had gotten another woman pregnant.” She swallowed her grief. “And I’ve been unable to stomach the thought of sitting in another crowd like that since. It was as if JC took that away from me, too. My life, my home, our friends . . . my love of football.”

  Gabe pulled her against him and held her tight. She didn’t cry for what was or for what had happened. She didn’t even come close. Tears for her ex-husband had finally dried.

  And she’d never been so relieved to be held in a man’s arms as she was in that moment.

  After a few minutes, Gabe pressed a kiss to the top of her head and peered down at her. He smoothed the backs of his fingers over her cheeks. “I’m very sorry your ex is a complete ass, you have to know that. And your aversion to attending games now makes complete sense.” He touched her under the chin. “But you do know that I’m not him, right?”

  She nodded. “I do know.”

  “Then say yes, baby. Be my date for homecoming. Be with me.”

  “Yes,” she said without hesitation. It was time to be with Gabe. She let that bad memory finally ebb away.

  Triumph burned bright at her quick acceptance, and Gabe’s eyes immediately lowered to her lips. His breaths quickened, and she could tell he now had more than talking on his mind.

  “Don’t you dare,” she whispered. She put her fingers over his mouth to stop him. “I’m here at a baby shower.”

  “The shower’s over.” Only they could both still hear other women talking outside. “I want to see you this week,” Gabe said. He nipped at her fingers. “Mornings? My place?”

  “Your wife will be there,” she hissed out.

  “I don’t care,” he replied in a matching hiss. “I miss you, Erica. I’m tired of being away from you.”

  “But it’s not right.” She shook her head. “Not this week. I think Jenna already suspects about us, anyway, so we don’t need to add to her anxiety. We can wait.”

  “Fine,” he growled out, his frustration evident. “But damn, woman. You can be so stubborn.”

  “And the reward for patience can be so great,” she responded naughtily. She gave him a gentle smile and leaned into him. “Call me when she books her flight home. We’ll talk to Jenna together, then the three of us will go out.”

  “Deal.”

  Before she could stop him, his mouth descended, and she sighed into him. She’d missed this so much. They kissed far too long to be doing so with other people around, and when he finally released her, tenderness shone down at her. Possibly even more than tenderness. So she let the same shine back at him. She wanted this to work between them.

  “I’ll see you soon,” he promised. He kissed the tips of her fingers, then headed up the stairs in search of his daughter. She was left standing in the hallway all by herself, replaying the last few minutes. She touched her fingers to her lips and couldn’t hold back the smile. She had a date for homecoming. She’d need a new dress.

  Turning on her heel, she intended to search out the hostess and the mom-to-be and thank them for inviting her. But the mom-to-be had already found her. Dani stood at the end of the hall, a wide grin covering her face.

  “I take that things have changed between you and my brother?” Dani practically bounced on her toes—while embarrassment flooded Erica.

  “We’ve . . .” She stopped. She couldn’t come up with a single thing to say but the truth. So she hung her head. “We’ve been seeing each other. But no one knows.” She looked toward the stairs. “We haven’t told Jenna yet.”

  “I can keep the secret.” Laughter suddenly bubbled from Dani, and the other woman rushed down the hall. She pulled Erica into a hug, her bulging stomach pushing in ahead of her, and squeezed her tight. “I couldn’t be happier for either of you.” She kissed Erica on the cheek. “I always thought you were great for him, and after getting to know you better now, I’m certain you’re perfect for my niece, as well.”

  “This is all still pretty new,” Erica began, but Dani butted in. “It’s pretty awesome.”

  Erica let out a nervous breath as warmth filled her. She grinned, the vibrancy of her smile matching Dani’s, and gave her friend a solid nod. “It’s pretty awesome.”

  And she very much hoped that it remained that way.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  To girls’ night.” Arsula held her wineglass out in front of her. “May this be the beginning of many more to come.”

  Erica leaned forward over the outdoor bistro table, as did Maggie and Arsula, and the three women clinked their glasses together. The sun hadn’t yet set, but the night chill had already crept in. She’d purchased a portable heater to warm the area, making for a cozy space for the small group, and they’d already eaten their way through the three different appetizers Erica had tried out for the evening. Their main course needed a few more minutes in the oven, so they’d temporarily taken the party outside.

  She’d quickly come to regret that decision, however, because not two minutes after settling among the trees, voices had drifted from the other side of the road. Gabe, Michelle, and Jenna had decided to have a go at making homemade ice cream together that night, and he’d set up the vintage machine he’d bought on his back deck. She’d been listening to their muted conversation and laughter for the last ten minutes.

  “May Erica decide to stay in Birch Bay forever,” Maggie added, holding up her glass again, “and may the wine continue to flow free.”

  “Hear, hear.” Arsula’s agreement came with a lazy smile and half-lidded eyes. The younger woman definitely couldn’t hold her wine.

  “You might have to spend the night if your wine keeps flowing,” Erica told her.

  “I’ll be fine.” Her speech was just the tiniest bit slurred. “Serve me bread with dinner, and it’ll soak it right up.”

  “If you say so.” Erica wasn’t convinced, though, and had already decided to give up her bed for the evening if she needed to. It wasn’t as if there’d be a man in it with her or anything.

  Her pettiness irritated her. It was the middle of the week. It’s not as if Gabe could have spent time in her bed even if Michelle hadn’t been at his house. And really, his absence the last few days was of her own making. She’d told him to focus on Michelle and Jenna, so that’s what he’d been doing. His late-night texts had even slowed.

  Sunday night after the baby shower, they’d shared thirty minutes of clandestine texting after everyone else had gone to bed. Then Monday it had been twenty minutes.

  Last night, he’d sent her a quick “sorry, it’s been a long day” kind of message, and they’d texted for only a couple of minutes, and something told Erica not to expect him to even think about sending a text that night. He was having a good time entertaining his wife.

  Erica downed over half her wine in one gulp, and when she lowered the glass, the sound of high-pitched laughter affected her like fingernails on a chalkboard. She wanted the other woman gone. She was tired of getting up every morning and seeing the rented BMW parked in the spot where Gabe’s truck should be, and exhausted
from listening to her put on airs. Anyone who heard that laugh should be able to tell that it was fake.

  But the way Gabe returned the laughter led Erica to believe that he didn’t have a clue.

  Maggie leaned forward, tipping the open bottle over Erica’s glass, and emptying it of its contents. “Everything okay?”

  “Great.” Erica forced a smile. “Just enjoying the company.”

  That part was true. She was thrilled to have her friends over, and had enjoyed every minute of it so far. It’s possible too much wine was making the rounds for a school night, but at the sound of even more laughter—this time a high-pitched yip bursting out as if someone had given Michelle a quick pinch—Erica decided that she didn’t care. Soberness be damned. It was girls’ night. She turned up her glass.

  And maybe if she drank enough she’d drunk-text Gabe later tonight and entice him over.

  She thunked her glass back on the table. Drunk texting was not an option. She had to be patient. Just as she’d convinced Gabe to be.

  “What’s that noise?” Maggie looked around at the beeping sound, her smile now lazy and similar to Arsula’s.

  That noise was the oven timer.

  “Dinner’s ready.” Erica rose from the table, grateful to be going back inside, and led the small group into the house.

  Tonight she’d decided on a Greek theme. She’d made Greek orzo with beef, and had a Greek salad waiting in the fridge. She’d enjoyed her different attempts over the last few weeks, and had determined that this would be her new thing. She didn’t need music lessons or other random hobbies such as the painting class she’d briefly considered signing up for. Instead, she simply needed to get lost in the kitchen once in a while. She planned to make girls’ night a more regular event, just as they’d hoped.

  “Oh my stars,” Arsula murmured from in front of the kitchen window. She’d leaned over the sink and was peering outside, and at her comment, Maggie hurried over.

  “What is it?” Maggie asked.

  “Those two.” Arsula nodded toward the window. “They’re gorgeous together.”

  Erica didn’t have to join the women to know who they were talking about. Gabe and Michelle made a striking pair. She’d picked up on that herself.

  “They’ve always been a gorgeous couple,” Maggie added. “That’s his wife. I used to see them around town together once in a while. I knew they’d moved away, but I hadn’t realized they’d broken up. They always seemed so perfect together.”

  They still did. At least on the outside.

  “Any idea what she’s doing back?” Maggie looked to Erica with her question. “Do you know if they’re getting back together? Because if not . . .”

  “What?” Erica asked. Did Maggie somehow know about her and Gabe?

  “Him across the street from you? Every day? And not married?” Maggie peeked back outside. “Honey, I’d be all over that.”

  “Yeah, well . . .” Erica swallowed against the knot of words stuck in her throat. She wanted to share her secret with her friends. She wanted to ask their opinion, or just have someone other than her twenty-one-year-old sister to talk to about him. But could she dare?

  Yes, she told herself. Soon. And possibly even before she and Gabe made it public.

  But tonight was about the three of them getting together. Not about asking if they thought all the laughter coming from the other side of the street meant anything.

  “I had a dream about him last week,” Arsula announced. She’d left the other woman to gawk alone, and pulled the salad from the fridge.

  “A dream?” The urge filled Erica to ask if Arsula had “seen” anything about Gabe in her dream, but at the same time, what if she’d seen something Erica didn’t want to hear? Changing the subject might be better. “I would have thought you’d be more likely to dream about Cord. You and he seemed to hit it off at the cookout.”

  “Yum.” Maggie’s dreamy look was back. “I remember Cord.” She suddenly remembered the wine in her hand, and took a large swig. “There was always something about Cord.”

  Erica grinned as she transferred their dinner from the baking dish to a serving bowl. “There’s still something about Cord.”

  “Not for me,” Arsula stated matter-of-factly. “He has too many problems.”

  Erica cocked her head. “What kind of problems? Did he say something?” From what she’d deciphered concerning Gabe’s brother, the man was a vault when it came to personal subjects. Even more so than his older brother.

  “Nothing obvious, but I pick up on things. It comes with my ability,” Arsula explained. Neither Erica nor Maggie had taken Arsula’s “ability” too seriously thus far. “He has a charming way about him, but he’d be too much for most women. Too difficult to get past his walls.”

  “Maybe that’s why he’s still single,” Erica guessed. And maybe that’s why Gabe was so good at erecting his walls. But then, she supposed growing up like he had—like all of them had—instilled that kind of natural protection inside a person.

  “I don’t mind walls,” Maggie murmured. She swayed just a bit as she found her seat and lowered into it. “I’d scale his walls in a hot minute.”

  Erica smiled as she pictured her friend doing just that. She liked Cord, no matter what Arsula thought, and suspected he’d be very worthwhile if a good wall-scaling session was what a person were after. Because closed off or not, Cord was a good guy. Just like his older brother. “Too bad you just missed him, then,” Erica teased.

  “What?” Maggie gaped at her.

  “A couple of weeks ago.” Erica set a glass of ice water in front of the other woman as Arsula took her seat. “He came in for a football game and spent the night with Gabe.”

  Maggie looked back toward the window, and when she faced Erica once more, her look cried of desperation. “Any idea if he might show up again? I have a friend who went out with him once.” She licked her lips. “If he’s coming back to town, I might be so rude as to invite myself over to see you.”

  Concern filled Arsula’s eyes. “Wait for someone else, Mags. Cord’s not for you.”

  “Yeah, well, no one has been for me in a long time,” Maggie added wryly.

  “Have you had any dreams recently?” Arsula suggested. “Maybe there’s something in one about a relationship that you didn’t realize. Tell me anything you can remember, and I’ll see.”

  “I haven’t had any dreams.” Maggie looked crestfallen, as if Arsula had taken away her last drop of wine, and Erica decided they’d been talking about the Wilde boys for far too long.

  “I had a dream,” she tossed out.

  All eyes turned to her, and as she passed the food around the table, she felt suddenly silly for bringing it up.

  “It’s nothing, really,” she prefaced. “It was just a little strange, is all.”

  Arsula reached across the table and put a hand on Erica’s. “Tell us.”

  The directness of the other woman’s gaze gave her pause. Up until that moment, she’d thought her new friend to be half joking every time something was mentioned about reading people’s dreams. She assumed it to be more of a novelty act than anything real. But the intensity being directed at her now told her otherwise, and she found herself wanting to see what Arsula might say.

  “I was in a skating rink,” Erica began. Which had struck her as incredibly strange because she hadn’t been anywhere near a skating rink in years. “I had on this flowing dress. It was white at first, then it changed to a brighter color. I can’t remember what color, though. Just bright.”

  “I thought people didn’t dream in color,” Maggie interrupted.

  “Shh.” Arsula didn’t look away from Erica as she admonished the other woman. She nodded for Erica to continue.

  “I was laughing.” Erica closed her eyes as she worked to recall the details. It had been a couple of nights since she’d had it. “Having the best time, and feeling more free than I have in years.” She wrinkled her brow as she tried to remember. “Then I was fl
oating up off the ice. Flying, but not really. More like just rising higher and looking down to where I’d been skating.”

  She opened her eyes to make sure Arsula wasn’t looking at her as if she were crazy, and Arsula once again nodded encouragingly.

  “And then I had a bowl of rice in my hands.” Erica made a face at the weirdest part of her dream. “I’m hovering, still wearing my bright, happy dress, but now stirring rice in a bowl almost too large for my arms to hold.” She laughed as she finished, the sound tight with nerves.

  “We’re eating rice,” Maggie whispered urgently, as if Erica serving them rice must be some sort of sign.

  “And I assume that’s why I dreamed about it,” Erica concurred. “Because I was a little nervous about this dinner.”

  “It’s about a job,” Arsula stated.

  Erica and Maggie turned back to Arsula.

  “The rink signifies circles,” Arsula continued. “That you are or have been going in circles.”

  Erica listened more carefully now. Because yeah. The last two years of her life had been nothing but circles.

  “And then you rose above it.” Arsula’s fingers lightly squeezed Erica’s arm. “You’re putting the circles behind you and rising above it. Success is heading your way.”

  “And the rice?” Erica asked anxiously. She certainly hoped she was finally putting those circles behind her. It kind of felt as if she was.

  “The rice can be a number of things.” The other woman looked across the table, taking in Maggie, as well. “Rice in dreams signifies success and warm friendships.”

  “Awwww,” Maggie murmured.

  “It can also imply fertility.”

  Erica clamped her hands over her stomach. “No.” She shook her head. “Not fertile. Not me.”

  But the idea of a baby had her heart clenching.

  A baby with Gabe?

  “Cooking rice, though”—Arsula regained everyone’s attention—“is a sign that new responsibilities lie ahead. Ones that will provide great joy.”

  Erica blinked at her. “What kind of joy?”

  “A new job is my guess. Have you heard anything you haven’t shared with us?”