“You okay?” she asks me.
“No. Not really. What’s up?”
“Right. It’s nice to see you, but from the look on your face I’m not sure you feel the same way. I’ll spare you any more suspense.”
“Please. What are you doing here?”
“I love you and I’m hoping you still love me too.”
I think my eye twitches, but I’m not sure. I’ve spent the last two months trying to work this woman out of my system. Two months trying to meet people. Trying to date. Even doing weird things like bar hopping in San Francisco. Unless she wants to marry me right now, I don’t have time to hop back on this carousel of I’m not quite sure with her. She’s staring at me. She wants an answer. I don’t have one.
“Why?” I say.
“Why do I hope you still love me? From time to time, it can be…beneficial for both parties when feelings are reciprocated?” she says like I’m the one who’s lost my mind. “Would this conversation work better if I popped out a tit or two?” She reaches for the belt on her jacket.
“No, please. Keep the tits in. I just want to know what you want. What changed?”
“I want you.”
“But?”
“There is no but. I want to be with you.”
“Here? Because this is where I live. This is my home and I’m not sure this is the best place for you.”
“And two months ago I would have agreed with you, but that was before my friend cornered me and made me go back to seeing a therapist.”
“And they told you to move out here with me?”
“God, you are still cranky as fuck. No. She told me that I have to actually process things. And she told me that I have to accept trauma and loss and learn that I can still thrive despite them.” She wiggles in her seat and starts undoing her jacket anyway, but she keeps her sweater in place.
“Here’s the thing. There's Before Claudia and there's After Claudia and I'll be After Claudia for the rest of my life. And After Claudia loves you. After Claudia loves being around you. After Claudia loves pushing your buttons. After Claudia has no idea how to go the rest of her life without being with you.”
“What about your job? There's nothing in fashion up here. You’ve been to the boot store.”
“Oh I’m keeping the job. I may have lied to my boss a little bit.”
“Oh?” I don’t like the sound of that.
“I told them we were getting married, but you have to stay here because you work for the forest service, which you technically do. I figure you are actually pretty accustomed to your alone time. Having any other person around twenty-four seven, even if that person is as beautiful and lovable as me would drive you crazy.
“I can telecommute from here a couple weeks out of the month and head back to the offices in New York the rest of the month. My whole job with Kleinman’s was travel. I’m used to it. I’ve been to Paris twice since the last time I saw you. Also my therapist does Facetime sessions so when I’m here I can still keep up with our appointments,” she says matter of factly like I should be impressed with this plan, which I am, but I’m still pretty fucking pissed off.
“Uh huh and what if I told you I was over you and your wishy-washy bullshit and there's no way I want to get together with you, let alone move you into my house two weeks out of the month.”
“I'd sick Jad and May-Bell on you. Tell them you wasted a perfectly good proposal from a smart, beautiful, gracious woman who wants to put up with your stubborn, cranky shit voluntarily.”
“They know you’re here?”
“May-Bell was here when I pulled up.”
“Great. So that’s that?” I say. “We’re getting married. End of story?”
“We don’t have to get married right away, but I know what I want and I think it’s stupid to pretend there’s something better for me waiting back in the city.”
“Mhmm.” I roll my tongue around in my mouth and try not to bite a chunk out of the inside of my lip. She has a shitload of nerve. “You and this therapist really worked everything out. That’s good. That’s good.”
“Okay.” She puts her palms on the table. I glance down at the manicured nails that look like they cost a few thousand dollars before I look back up at her face. “I can see that I have fucked up the presentation a little bit and now you’re angry. I get it. That was not entirely smooth or appealing. I’m being a little pushy, but I’m going to try and not make this worse. I am going to sit here and if you want me to get out of your life I think… you should be the one to leave this time.
“I’m not gonna tell you I regret coming here, because I don’t. I don’t think I made a mistake trying to see you. I do love you. I love you so much, Shep. I don’t want you to tell me to go. I’m not even suggesting you do that. So I’m just going to sit here and maybe we can have breakfast together and talk about a future together. Like how I am definitely not pregnant. I don’t think I’m ready for kids at all right now, but I think you’d make an awesome stay-at-home dad in five to six years if that’s something that’s crossed your mind. We can also talk about how we should both learn to whittle and how outdoor sex is still out of the question, but I would love to learn how to shoot. Or you can leave and I’ll never bother you again.”
I consider her for a moment. I look at those deep hazel eyes and that golden brown skin and whatever the fuck is on her mouth that makes me just want to shove my cock in it so she’ll stop talking. I stand and head for the door. I feel everyone’s eyes on me and I avoid Connie’s gaze as she tracks my every move. I grab the handle, then turn back toward the booth. I see her head drop forward before I call out.
“Hey!”
She whips her head around, and her suddenly red rimmed eyes focus on me.
“You coming?” She stares at me a beat longer as I nod toward the parking lot. “I have plenty of bacon and carbs up at my place. No offense, Con. You know I think your food is amazing.”
Connie laughs. “I do, honey.”
I hold out my hand and it seems like forever before Claudia makes it back to me and laces her fingers with mine. I let her lead the way down the stairs and then I pull her into my arms and kiss the top of her head. She smells amazing.
“You really think I’m going to wait another two some-odd hours before I fuck my future wife again.”
“Shep.”
“It was the stay-at-home dad thing that really sold it,” I say.
I feel her whole body shake as she laughs. “Should have led with that.” She tilts her head up and rests her chin against my chest. I wipe her tears away with my thumbs and kiss that scar on her forehead. I’m never letting her go.
THE END
Acknowledgements
A whole village helped me finish this book, a whole dang village. Thank you to my parents, and my brother and sister for their continued to support. The ladies at The Ripped Bodice for the free wifi and the bomb diggity, fem positive lady space to write my words. Sarah, the best deadline partner on Earth. Alisha, Alyssa, Bree (and Donna by proxy), Courtney, Janet, Jenn, Bea and Carrie for the unwavering encouragement. A special thanks to Leah for helping me name almost every character in this book. All the love and kisses to my editor, Tara and my cover artist, TL. A huge thank you to my readers who keep coming back for more and bringing your friends and family members to my books. You guys rock.
And thank you to the government employees at the Forest Service, the National Park Service and many others who continue to run renegade social media accounts in the name of truth, science, nature, and common sense. The science help feeds the art and we appreciate you.
About the Author
Rebekah was raised in Southern New Hampshire and now lives in Southern California where she finally found her love for writing romance.
Her interests include Wonder Woman collectibles, cookies, James Taylor, whatever Nicki Minaj is doing at any given moment, quality hip-hop, football, American muscle cars, large breed dogs, and the ocean. When she's not working, writing, reading, or s
leeping, she is watching HGTV and cartoons, or taking dance classes. If given the chance, she will cheat at UNO.
Come on by and get to know Rebekah on Facebook, Twitter, or Tumblr. You can find more stories by Rebekah at rebekahweatherspoon.com
@rdotspoon
Rebekah-WeatherspoonAuthor
www.rebekahweatherspoon.com
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Copyright © 2017 Rebekah Weatherspoon
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute, or transmit in any form or by any means. For information regarding subsidiary rights, please contact the author.
First Edition: April 2017
Credits
Editor: Tara Scott
Cover Design by Awesomesauce Designs
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events are purely coincidental.
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HAVEN: Beards & Bondage Page 20
