Winter Miracle

by Teagan Kade

  “But you want to know the really crazy part?” I tell him. “Everyone here thinks I ruined his chances at being someone, ruined his life. He didn’t even stick around. He bailed as soon as I told him, didn’t tell anyone where he was going. He could be in another country now for all I know, dead…”

  “Excuse my French, but the guy sounds like a fucking asshole.”

  I smile a little at that. “In hindsight, I guess he was. I can’t believe how stupid I was.”

  Dane takes hold of my face. “You’re not stupid, baby. Don’t you ever say so.” He kisses me on the forehead. “There’s more sense up here than in this whole town combined.”

  I like being someone else’s ‘baby.’ “It won’t matter much longer anyhow.”

  Dane’s eyebrows knit together with concern. “What do you mean?”

  Tell him. I draw in a deep breath. “The house is in foreclosure.”

  “It’s what?”

  “The bank’s breathing down my neck. Any day they’ll take it. I guess you chose the wrong place to wait out a long winter storm. Pretty soon, there won’t be a place to wait in at all.”

  Dane pulls me close, hand at the back of my head, my cheek against the strong hammer of his heartbeat. “I could bullshit you and say it’s all going to be alright, but that’s not my style. Things happen, and it doesn’t always work out, but people get through it.”

  I’m holding back tears—not for myself, but for Andy.

  “What I want you to hear,” Dane continues, “is that I’m here, right now, and I’m hoping that’s enough for the moment.”

  I’m thinking to myself maybe it is. I’m developing feelings for Dane—more than that. I know it and feel it, deep within myself.

  I don’t admit this out loud. That would be the height of exposure, everything laid bare to the elements. I have to think about Andy, about protecting him.

  We lie there silently against the crackle and pop of the fire, the wind howling outside.

  In this moment at least, everything is perfect—the calm not before, but amidst the storm.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  DANE

  I stand at the window downstairs, a steaming cup of coffee in hand. I left Haley and the baby sleeping upstairs, couldn’t bring myself to wake her given how peaceful she looked.

  I’m surprised to see the snow has let up outside. It’s still icy out there, but the skies are clear and bright blue. As always, I’m drawn towards it, towards the endless freedom they provide—not that I’ll be flying for the Red Devils again anytime soon.

  Haley’s revelation last night surprised me. But what can I really do to help? If anything, getting this close to a problem of this scale makes me nervous. My instinct is to run, and maybe I should, but it’s far more than a simple fling now. I’ve never felt this way about any girl before. I thought sex would sharpen my resolve, but it only makes me want her more, to help her and free her from whatever fucking chains this town’s been keeping her in.

  I breathe in and out, sipping at the coffee.

  Two hands slide around my waist, a head falling against my shoulder. “Good morning.”

  “It sure is.” I smile, turning around to pull Haley into me, my previous thoughts dissipating at the warmth of her body. “I didn’t want to wake you.”

  She sees past my shoulder. “The snow…”

  I twist around. “I know. It’s a beautiful day out there.”

  She pushes away from me, her cream slip glowing in the morning light. “We should go out.”

  I lean against the wall. “Did I see an ice rink in the center of town?”

  “You did,” she nods. “Can you skate?”

  “Can I skate,” I snort. “Does the sun rise? I lived and breathed ice hockey in high school. I’d say I can skate rings around anything Merit has to offer. Question is, can you?”

  “I haven’t skated in years, sold my skates in a garage sale for five dollars a couple of months ago.”

  I take her hand and pull her back against me. “Well, Cinderella, let’s go and find you some magical slippers.”

  *

  The good weather has brought people out. They skate around the rink rugged up like Michelin men, mostly kids… fathers trailing behind them trying to work out if they’ll be NHL superstars or not.

  We sit on a bench lacing up our rental skates. They’re about as sharp as butter knives, but they’ll do the trick.

  “You used to figure skate?” I ask.

  “Every Saturday morning.” Haley smiles, lacing up her skates and tying them off. “Right up until I was nineteen.”

  I’m about to ask what happened until I fill it in myself. “You miss it?”

  She looks at the people skating, a forlorn expression on her face, her honey-blonde hair framing her features. “I do. I loved the freedom of it, you know?”

  I look to the sky. “I do.”

  I stand and scoop Andy up from the ground, looking himself like an oversized cotton ball in his snow suit and mittens. He’s loving being out, even if he is trying to stuff his mouth with dirty snow.

  I create a kind of seat for him with my arm, cradle him in there tight. “The little man rides with me,” I tell Haley.

  “You’ll be careful, won’t you?”

  “Careful?” I laugh. “You’ve seen me fly, haven’t you?”

  She laughs. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

  I step onto the rink, a second of hesitation before muscle memory kicks back in and I skate out. I spin and face Haley.

  She enters the rink a bit slower, finding her own balance soon enough and skating over to join us.

  “Go on,” she says. “I know you’re dying to show off.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” I wink, pushing off hard, Andy giggling against my ribs as I pick up the speed and take the corner, crossing my skates over one another and jetting forwards.

  I’ve missed this—the cold bite of the air, the sluicing sound of the skates, the wax, the motion… all of it.

  Andy’s having the time of his life, clapping his hands together as we dodge and weave through the crowd.

  I come to a tilted T-stop in front of Haley, showering her with ice.

  She throws her hands up laughing. “You did not just do that.” But she’s smiling. “Is Dane being cheeky?” she asks Andy.

  “Cheeky!” Andy repeats, smiling just as enthusiastically.

  Haley appears a bit more concerned when I decide to skate with Andy on my shoulders, holding her hand as we skate together.

  Haley looks up. She’s a surprisingly graceful skater, her technique easy and fluid. “He’s having so much fun.”

  I grimace slightly. “Trying to pull my hair out, sure.”

  We skate for an hour or more, laughing and enjoying ourselves. I notice the odd stare, watchful eyes, but Haley’s so absorbed in the moment, it passes her by.

  It’s nice, wholesome entertainment—a faultless, flawless day.

  I order us hot chocolates from the diner and deliver them to the table outside, Andy soundly asleep in his stroller, his mittened hands hanging limply over the edge. “How’s the snow angel?” I ask, placing the chocolates down.

  “Completely and utterly exhausted, by the looks of it.”

  “And you?” I ask, seating myself beside her.

  “I’m in the mood for exercise of a different kind,” she suggests.

  “Curling then?” I ask.

  She laughs. “You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

  “Sex!” I exclaim, loud enough for everyone outside to hear.

  Haley looks mortified, trying to stifle laughter. “Quiet, you.”

  “You don’t want to let everyone here know you’re having your wicked way with the sexiest man for sixty miles?”

  “And the most modest, it seems.”

  We drink, looking out towards the distant hills.

  “It’s been a long time since I did that, you know,” I tell her.

  “Skated?”

&nbs
p; “Enjoyed myself. I suppose I’ve been missing out on these simple pleasures. If I ever get stuck in a small town during an ice storm again, I’ll certainly be prepared to make the most of it now.”

  A change of expression comes over Haley, but it’s soon wiped away by another smile. “I’ve almost forgotten about the foreclosure.”

  “See?” I offer. “I can make you forget almost anything if given the chance.”

  But is that the issue? As much as I’m enjoying myself here, I can’t help but think I’m falling back into old patterns. A problem arises, and I want to make everything feel like it’s okay, like it doesn’t exist. It’s happened before, and if I’m honest I enjoy it—being the balm, soothing the hurt. It makes me… I don’t know what the fuck word I’m searching for, but I can’t help but feel it’s happening again with Haley.

  But do you want it to?

  What I want and what I do are two very different things. My cock has a knack for pulling me in one direction, but it’s always my head pulling me in another. Up there, in that jumble of thoughts, the ‘C’ word isn’t even spoken. I’m as allergic to commitment as a junkie is to rehab.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  HALEY

  Dane pushes a dozing Andy in his stroller through town. We’re looking for something to eat, but this isn’t Times Square. Options are slim in Merit.

  The Burger Shack is open, a greasy take-away joint that’s a pretty clear rip-off of McDonalds, or at least what I imagine it to be, right down to the red and yellow signage.

  Dane seems equally confused. “I’m guessing I’m not going to find Ronald McDonald inside, but what about food poisoning?”

  “I’ve eaten here before. It’s fine.”

  “Alright. What’ll it be, m’lady?”

  “Just a cheeseburger, please,” I reply.

  Satisfied, Dane ducks inside to order.

  I hold the stroller watching him through the window. He still looks so out of place here. I don’t know if it’s his hairstyle, his general physique or simply the way he walks, but if he was a small-town boy once, he’s not anymore.

  He’s moved on. Moving on, I think.

  I wasn’t imagining it before. Dane was definitely hinting he was going to leave once the storm was over. Worse, it sounded like he’d be out of here as soon as the chance arose, couldn’t bear to remain here a second longer than absolutely necessary.

  You’re reading into this too much.

  I don’t think I am, but I have fallen for him—all of him. I don’t know if I can let him go. Every fiber of my being wants to be with him, and it’s far more than a schoolgirl crush. The way he’s started to bond with Andy, the small gestures he’s been making, his… I actually blush thinking about our little love-making sessions. As far as sex goes, I’m pretty sure we’ve just skimmed the tip of the iceberg as far as what he’s capable of.

  Maybe it’s the fact he’s the first man to make me come that’s got me so hung up on him, or maybe it’s the fact he’s just the first person in a long time to actually treat me well, like I’m not old bubblegum stuck to their shoe.

  I know falling for Dane Carr isn’t the best idea. I think I’m honest enough to admit that to myself, but for now I want to be with him. Like my mother used to say, ‘KISS’—Keep It Simple, Stupid. He wants me. I want him. What’s the problem with that?

  You know full well.

  Dane comes half out of the doorway waving us in.

  I push the stroller into the restaurant and take a seat. It’s busy, the lunchtime rush, so to speak.

  Dane’s got a tray of food on the table. He passes a cheeseburger over, looking quizzically at the packaging. “I guess McDonalds Corporate haven’t discovered this place yet.”

  I start to unwrap the burger. “It’s hard enough finding Merit on a map.”

  As I eat, I can feel peoples’ eyes on us, the heavy weight of their gazes. Dane senses it too, his eyes darting left and right. He ignores them.

  I swallow the first bite down, doing my best to join him. “It’s not as good as the burgers you made.”

  He smiles. “That’s because it’s not made with love.”

  I choke a little on my next bite. “That is so unbelievably cheesy.”

  “Says the girl with the cheeseburger.”

  It’s light, fluffy conversation, but it’s distracting enough. What makes it easy is Dane. I’m empowered, emboldened when I’m with him—things I haven’t felt in a very long time…

  So what are you going to do when he’s gone?

  I lose it under the pressure of all those stares, swiveling my head to see who’s watching us.

  “Ignore them,” Dane says, loud enough for anyone in the restaurant to hear. “They’re not worth it.”

  I nod and continue to eat, my thoughts turning dark again, wondering what I’m going to do when Dane inevitably runs off. What will they think then?

  We finish up and head home, the air turning cooler as we walk, Dane’s hand hot in my own.

  Andy’s wide awake doing his best to free himself from the stroller. Dane fishes out one of Andy’s toys, a torn foam airplane, from the bottom of the stroller, passing it to him.

  “I didn’t pack that,” I tell him.

  “I thought it might come in handy,” Dane smiles, squeezing my hand for good measure.

  At home, Dane busies himself with the fire while I put Andy down for his afternoon sleep upstairs. He’s past the point of tiredness, however, trying every trick in the book to stay awake.

  I pat and soothe him, sing him Baby Mine from Dumbo just like my mother used to sing to me. My voice isn’t jazzy, nor husky like hers, but I do my best. Before long, Andy’s eyes are starting to shutter closed, allowing my mind to drift again.

  It starts to become clear as I stare down at my son, my world.

  Whether I want him to or not, Dane is going to leave. It’s what the men in my life do.

  I resolve myself to get him out of my head, to move on.

  I’m repeating this mantra to myself—move on, move on, move on—as I make my way downstairs. Dane’s standing in the lounge room watching the fire.

  He turns and takes hold of my hips. “Everything okay?”

  I put on a smile. “Fine. It took a while to get Andy down, that’s all.”

  He licks his lips, watching me. “You know, I had a really good time today, the best time I’ve had in a long time, actually.”

  “I’m glad,” I reply, “so did I.”

  He brings his lips to the side of my neck, pressing his body close against mine. “You know what would make it even better?”

  Breathing him in, feeling his heat, my resolve starts to slip. “What?” I whisper.

  The moment he takes hold of me, cradling me to the floor, my thoughts muddle and I’m once again under his spell.

  He kisses me, his full lips pressing against my own and the urgency increasing.

  My thoughts can wait.

  He undoes the buttons on my blouse one by one, popping them open and pressing my bra up to expose my breasts, milky and full.

  His mouth comes down my collarbone, the tip of his tongue whisking lightly over my skin before he pulls a nipple into his mouth, sucking it gently to attention.

  The initial hesitation is gone. My body is betraying me left, right, and most certainly center.

  Before I know it, Dane’s shirt is gone, my pants, my underwear—every article of clothing shed to the floor.

  He lifts himself free, his rigid cock standing tall, and takes a scarf that’s lying over the sofa arm.

  “Lift your head,” he tells me.

  He wraps the scarf around it, tying a knot at the back so I’m blindfolded, guided only by my sense of smell, touch, and taste.

  “I’ve never been blindfolded before,” I tell him, and it’s true.

  “There’s a first time for everything,” he purrs, his lips closer to my ear than I expect, the heat of his body radiating downwards. I’m wet, my thighs spreading in anticipati
on of what’s to come, what next miracle this man is about to perform.

  I lay my head down and wait, concentrate on my breathing.

  Dane slides a finger inside me, slowly stroking it in and out of my body, my arousal a betrayal of the highest order. He continues to finger me slowly, fascinated by the way the digit is swallowed up into the slippery constriction of my pussy. I feel the hot length of his cock thick against the side of my thigh. I’m still amazed it fits inside me.

  His hand brushes hair out of my face before he lowers himself and presses his lips against my own. His tongue parts them, moves deep into my mouth. By instinct I go to submit to the kiss, but it’s fleeting. His head moves away as he licks up the side of my cheek, the heated ribbon left behind sticky and wet.

  Heightened, my senses kick into gear.

  I notice the familiar, exotic musk of him, but something else now, something new. He smells of the forest, of the damp and wet, all pine and testosterone mixed together. He’s already felt how wet I am, knows how easy this will be.

  He pauses to whisper at my ear. “God, I’ve been dying for this. Do you know how much I’ve been dreaming about this moment all day, and you’re so wet, so hot for my cock.”

  I never thought I’d be into dirty talk, but now I see its appeal, the way his words strum sensation through my body.

  “Tell me you want my cock,” he says.

  I swallow first. “I want your cock,” I whisper, hesitant.

  “When?”

  “Now.”

  “Where?” he continues.

  “Inside me,” I huff, suddenly breathless.

  He positions his cock at my entrance with his free hand, his hips forcing my legs to splay wide. He thrusts ever so slightly, just the tip of his cock slipping inside the heated confines of my body.

  He exhales. “You’re so fucking tight it’s incredible.”

  There’s no denying the size of him, but I’m wetter than ever, offering little resistance as the angry head of his cock is swallowed completely by my hole.