Yeah…not a good idea. I don’t want him to think I’m easy, or that’s all I want from him.
But, what if we make out? My legs are a new kind of wilderness he’s not ready to explore.
Shit.
Okay, I’ll shave just in case.
And my underwear drawer—it’s in serious need of a revamp.
I visit Dazzles at lunch to grab a couple new pairs with some lace on them. You know…just in case. And by the time two o’clock rolls around, the time we close for the day, I’m ready to catapult out the door. I need to pick Carson from school, get him over to Rhee’s, and then get back home by four at the latest to do some major construction, but I’m nervous that three hours won’t be enough time. Even my toenails could use some TLC. And my house…
If he comes inside, I need to tidy up first. Maybe run the vacuum.
Dust a little.
Ugh. I’m already exhausted at the thought of it all. But it’ll be worth it for a date with Blaze.
“Have a good one!” Dr Payne calls from the stock room. That’s his way of saying, you’re free to go now.
I’m already throwing my purse over my shoulder. “Have a good weekend!” I call back.
As I head for the door, he sticks his head into the hallway. “And have fun,” he says knowingly, and I pause before I push through, throwing him a curious smile over my shoulder. He smiles back, and then disappears again.
So, I guess he did pick up on what Blaze and I were talking about. “Thanks,” I say, and then make a beeline for my car.
3
Shit a Cow
The dating gods are shining upon me today because I’m to Carson’s school in record time, am first in the car rider line, and the heavens have dried up momentarily, which is uncommon for February.
Carson jumps into the car and settles in his booster seat. “Hey, Mom,” he says, pulling and clicking his seatbelt into place. He’s less cheery for a Friday, especially for a Friday he’s going to Aunt Rhee and Uncle Jax’s. He’s been going every other one. And it was pajama and movie day at school. He should be over the moon.
I wave at the teacher directing traffic as I pull away. “What’s up, bud?”
“Nothing,” he fibs.
I eye him in the rearview mirror. “Something,” I shoot back. “Bad day?”
He shrugs as he looks out the window.
Bad day. “Did something happen at school?”
Silence.
I want to continue asking questions, but I decide to give him his space. We’re halfway up the mountain, a solid fifteen minutes into our drive, before he speaks again. “We watched the Lion King today.” He’s turned his attention to the zipper on his bookbag. Plastic crinkles. He’s getting a snack.
It takes me a moment to realize why watching the Lion King would make him sad—it was the last movie he watched with my Dad before he passed.
My heart squeezes painfully. “Oh?” I manage.
“It made me think of Grandpa.”
I can see how that would put a damper on his day.
I swallow back tears before I speak again and clear my tight throat. I can’t lose it while I’m driving. “I’m sure it did, baby.” They were best buds. We both miss him terribly.
The car settles into silence as we allow the heaviness of it all sink in, the only sound the tires as they crunch over gravel. It’s been two years since he passed, but it feels like yesterday. The hole he left in our lives is still there, it will always be there, though the pain has eased. The sharp and jagged edges have smoothed.
By the time we pull into their driveway and park in front of their monster-of-a-house, he’s perked some, and he’s already up to their front door and knocking before I can pull his overnight bag out of the trunk.
Rhee answers. “Spiderman pajamas?” I hear her coo from here. “I love them! Did you have a good day?”
He goes to jump into her for a hug but stops himself. Instead, opting to gently hug her from the side so he doesn’t knock her over. He then disappears into the house to find Uncle Jax, his light-up shoes pattering against hardwoods.
What is she doing out of bed? She’s supposed to be in bed.
Reading the concern on my face as I crest the front stairs, she says, “I’m fine. Jaxson is finishing up the crib in the baby’s room, and I was on the couch.”
I give her a look, knowing he would have made the trip to answer the door. She didn’t tell him we’d pulled up. “I have a key you, know.”
“I know,” she says with a huff, and her hands press against the small of her back as she waddles out of my way. My eyes run over her, assessing. No alarming swelling. Color is good. “I just can’t sit anymore.”
“It’s not for much longer,” I say, but I know how comforting that is when you’re ready to pop. It’s not. Every minute feels like an hour.
She groans and heads back to the couch and I follow.
Jaxson is giving Carson a piggyback ride when he rushes into the living room. “Hey, Maddie!” he says, and then his smile strains when he sees Rhee settling back into the couch. He debates something but thinks better of it. Probably chiding her for getting up, but I can only imagine how he must pick his battles with her stubborn, miserably pregnant ass. I thought she was moody before…
“Is it normal to feel like you could shit a cow?” she all but whines as she sprawls across the leather cushions. Tears spring to her eyes. She then winces in Carson’s direction. “Sorry, kid.”
Usually, he would have said: Oooooo, you said a bad word, but even he’s giving her a break today.
I try not to chuckle. “It is. You sure it’s okay for him to stay the night? I can take him back home.” I can always reschedule with Blaze if I needed to. Not that I wanted to, but I could.
Jaxson lets Rhee answer. “Oh, of course,” she says, then gives Carson a smile. “I need someone to play games with and keep me occupied.” She also knows once the baby is here they’ll have to take some time off from their every-other-Friday schedule.
Carson smiles. “Uno?”
She nods.
Jaxson adds, “And I have some hotdogs ready to go on the grill. We’ll be good.”
Carson wiggles down from Jaxon’s back and runs for the kitchen. Probably to fix himself a drink. Rhee follows him with her eyes.
“You sure?” I mouth to Jaxson.
He nods.
“Just call me if you need anything,” I say aloud.
Rhee’s eyes drift to me. “Not sticking around? At least stay for hotdogs.”
Oh, right. I never called her back.
I point to the door over my shoulder. “I gotta go,” I mouth, and then point to her phone on the leather ottoman beside the couch. “I’ll text you.” I didn’t want to announce I have a date in front of Carson.
Rhee immediately understands. “Hottie McTight Pants?” she mouths back.
Jaxson takes the opportunity to head to the kitchen to help Carson with whatever he’s after. He’ll be a great dad, and I think that’s why Carson has taken to him so well. Actually, I know it is. After Dad passed Jaxson gladly took over the role as the much-needed positive male figure in his life.
I give her an enthusiastic nod.
She gives me a thumbs up.
“Call me if you need me,” I repeat, inching toward the door. She could go into labor any day, not that I was terribly worried. They hired a midwife who’s staying upstairs, which now looks like a hospital wing with all the medical equipment Jaxson had shipped in. Old money invested well affords them this kind of luxury.
She shoos me away. “We’ll be fine.”
“Love you!” I yell to Carson.
“Love you, mommy!” he yells back, and I’m out the door to rush home and get ready.
4
Asking for it
Luckily, I only live five minutes down the mountain road from them…in a much smaller house. But it has the exact amount of room we need with two bedrooms, one bath, a modest kitchen, and a living room. It
’s also tucked back into the woods, has a narrow, dirt driveway, and a carport for my SUV.
A huge change from my one-bedroom loft apartment in Summermire, and I love it. Carson actually has a yard now. A stream in the back to get muddy in and boy, does he.
I make less here working for Doctor Payne, but Carson and I don’t need much, and being closer to Rhee and Jaxson was worth the pay cut.
It’s less stress too, so there’s that.
And there’s Blaze. They don’t have a Blaze in Summermire.
Thinking of him sends a zing through my body as I zip up the third dress I’ve tried on. I probably should have bought a new one at Dazzles while I was there, but I didn’t think about it. I was more concerned with razors and undies. This dress will be new to Blaze anyway.
By the time I’ve settled on what I’m wearing and have my body shaved, plucked, buffed, lotioned, and my toes painted, it’s been two and a half hours into the whole ordeal and then I decide to turn some quick attention to the house. Carson helps me keep it tidy for the most part with the few chores he does, but I still wipe the counters, sweep, and run a vacuum over the carpet before I slip into some heels.
I consult the clock on my outdated stove before I sink into the couch and wait for Blaze’s arrival. Six forty-five. Fifteen minutes to spare, and I’d be utterly exhausted by now if I wasn’t so excited. Friday nights are typically my recharge nights, especially the nights Carson is over at Rhee’s, and three hours of getting ready to go out is never part of the deal.
A couple minutes into Instagram, an engine roars up my driveway and I pause to listen. It’s not a typical car or truck engine.
A motorcycle?
I hurry to the window to peek and am immediately turned on at the sight of him riding up to the house in his leather jacket and bike helmet. He’s usually so white collar-looking, not that White Collar Blaze doesn’t do it for me, and the car he drives to Dr. Payne’s is a silver Acura. That’s what I thought I’d be riding in tonight.
I panic at the thought: Motorcycle. Dress.
I need to change.
I hurry to my bedroom and have just kicked off my heels when I hear him knock on the door.
Crap.
“Coming!” I say and skitter there. I open the door to a smiling Blaze, his helmet off and tucked under one arm, his other arm clutching a brown grocery sack into his body. And he smells incredible, the mingling of leather with his typical clean and woodsy smell enough to melt me…
“Hey!” I say excitedly. Too excitedly.
Get a grip.
“Hey,” he says, voice husky. His eyes roam over me.
I suddenly feel naked and fight against wrapping my arms around my torso. He’s used to seeing me in scrubs that show way less skin than this thing.
“You look…amazing, Madison.” The way he says it, the way his tongue caresses my name after a good look at me all dressed up for him, makes me ache to rub my thighs together.
I clear my throat.
Yes, I’m glad I shaved my legs. We haven’t even started our date yet and I’m all his.
Just making out, though. That’s all I’ll allow myself to do.
That’s all.
“Come in,” I say, waving him inside. “I was just about to change clothes and then we can go.”
He shuts the door behind us.
“You’re changing?” He almost sounds wounded.
I hurry to my room and say over my shoulder, “Yeah, sorry. I didn’t realize you were bringing a bike.”
“Oh, wait, then.” When he has my attention, he holds up the brown paper bag. “This was the surprise.”
I smile. The surprise?
“I said I’d surprise you. So…surprise! I bought stuff to make you dinner.”
I… whoa. What?
“Is that okay?” he asks.
“I, um…” I really just want to cry. There’s a man, a hot man, in my house who wants to make me dinner.
He shifts on his feet, concern knitting his eyebrows when I don’t say anything. Probably running through a whole list of reasons why a woman wouldn’t be okay with this. He basically assumed I would be when he bought the groceries, and that I would be fine with him making himself at home.
But, yes. Heck yes, I’m okay with Hottie McTight Pants making himself at home and cooking me dinner. A girl doesn’t get this kind of offer every night. Sometimes ever.
And I’d already sort of looked him up online between patients at work to see if he had a criminal record. And had already called the Sheriff’s department and asked Barnett what he knows about him. Otherwise, I never would have texted him my address. His history is as squeaky clean as he is good looking. Not that predators can’t mask themselves well. I do have a revolver just in case, though. When I go out, I carry it in my purse. When I’m home, I store it in a fireproof safe that needs my fingerprint to get into it. Jaxson and Rhee bought the safe for me two Christmases ago.
After what happened to Rhee, I always have it near. Dark Moon Falls is well protected by wolves, but it doesn’t mean darkness and danger doesn’t run amok from time to time.
“Yes, of course,” I finally reply, and head back in his direction to relieve him of the paper bag, but he beats me to it, his shoulders and expression relaxing as he turns to head toward the kitchen and set everything down. I didn’t deny him his kind gesture.
Mom would be proud. She always taught us not to rob people of their blessings when they want to do something nice.
I miss her like crazy too.
He pulls out a barstool at my small kitchen island, motions grandly for me to take a seat and then rehomes the grocery bag on the counter by the stove.
When I settle onto the cushion, all I can do is watch him. The way he moves. The way his arms and chest flex when he removes his leather jacket and tosses it onto the stool beside me. The way he slicks back his auburn hair when it falls into his eyes. How he carefully removes each item from the bag and sets it on the counter. Tomatoes. Fresh herbs. Pasta. Steak.
“Italian okay?” has asks over his shoulder.
He could make grilled cheese for all I care. “Yep.” I point to a polka dot apron hanging on the wall next to the fridge. “But you have to wear that,” I tease.
He laughs. Goes for it.
I laugh in response. I didn’t think he would, and I decide against letting him out of it as soon as he slips it over his head. It barely fits him, but it does. “Suits you,” I tease.
He winks and my stomach flutters. He then turns his attention to my cabinets. “Cutting boards are above the Keurig,” I offer. “Pots and pans are below.” He tosses a hand up in silent thanks.
“Want some help?”
“Sure,” he says, and gestures toward the boxed wine beside him on the counter. “You can help by getting a drink and enjoying yourself. I’ve got this.”
Okay…so this man in my polka dot apron just might get more than a make-out session tonight. He’s definitely asking for it, although I think I’ve already orgasmed.
5
Want a Taste?
Some people hate small talk. Loathe it to their core. Like my sister, Rhee, for instance. But I find it oddly comforting. You’ll learn a lot that way, if you know the right questions to ask, and sometimes the conversation gets a lot more interesting.
While Blaze works on the skillet-fried steaks with a side of linguini and homemade marina, I learn he’s been gone from Dark Moon Falls for most of his adult wolf life. He went to culinary school in New York and was a chef for five-star restaurants in Atlanta and Vegas in the eighties and nineties. Twenty years ago, he wanted a career change that allowed him to be outdoors more, so he taught survivalist classes in the Virginia backwoods. Fifteen years into that, he decided to go back to school for Computer Science and Information Technology, and then settle back into Dark Moon Falls to be closer to his roots. Elias, the alpha, welcomed him back with open arms and is allowing him to live in the pack’s camp, which is a large slice of wooded lan
d on the outskirts of town. Elias even gave him one of the cabins, another good sign.
The only reason Jaxon and Rhee don’t live there is because…well, they have a friggin’ mansion. I wouldn’t move into camp, either. It’s not a requirement.
I, on the other hand, am way less interesting. I lived in Dark Moon Falls most of my adolescence, went away for a nursing degree as soon as I graduated high school, then got pregnant with Carson not long after I returned at the age of twenty-three. As soon as he was a year old, I went to work at the Summermire hospital and had worked there up until a year ago, when Carson and I moved back to Dark Moon Falls.
“You’re a Rockstar,” Blaze says in response to my mild embarrassment at living such a normal life. He points a spatula at me for emphasis. “You’re raising a little human. On your own.” He returns to his stirring. “Single moms are Rockstars.”
Something about the way he says it, full of reverence and passion and understanding, makes me wonder if he was raised by a single mom himself. It wasn’t just lip service. “What’s your mom like?” I down my second glass of wine and eye the wine box for another. After dinner. My lips are already tingling.
His voice lowers. “She was a single mom too,” he says without turning around.
Crap. Was. She was a single mom too, which means she’s gone now. Whatever it was, it must have been bad because wolves live way longer than humans and heal faster. She should technically still be alive.
Silence settles around my small kitchen and I then want to then ask about his dad, why he wasn’t around, but I don’t. I know better than to pry about any of these things because Rhee and I have lived them. He’ll tell me whenever, if ever, he chooses.
Dark Moon Falls: Volume 2 Page 28
