Love Me Like You Do: Winter Lake

by Rhian Cahill

  Shoving his friend’s arm away, he swung his legs over the side of the bunk and sat up. “I’m good. Just cooling down.”

  Dev laughed. “Yeah, tell that to someone who doesn’t know what a hard workout looks like or that Chuck just whipped your ass at the gym.”

  Tris watched as his childhood buddy sat on the bed across from him. He could tell Dev was winding up to say something and really didn’t want to be on the receiving end of whatever it was, but he owed Dev.

  Owed his friend for getting him in the door of Winter Lake’s only fire station and in front of Chief Murdock when Tris had made the decision to move into the house his Great Aunt Josie left him. So he waited.

  “Look.” Dev ran a hand down the back of his head and gripped his neck. “I know something chased you up here and I’ve let you stew, hit the bar with you in those first few days, tagged along on more workouts than I need in my lifetime, never mind a few months, but it has to stop. Whatever you’re running from is eating you alive, and you need to deal with it some other way.”

  Tristan’s lips twitched. “You get a psychology degree when I wasn’t looking?” he asked.

  “No. But I know you. And at the risk of taking a fist to the face, I’m going to go out on a limb and say it’s a woman who has you all in knots.”

  He glanced away. Couldn’t look his friend in the eyes and lie to his face. “Nah, just had enough of the hot weather, the crazy traffic. Needed to feel some snow under my board.”

  “Bullshit.” Tristan’s gaze snapped back to Dev who held up a hand. “I don’t want any details so you can keep your lies. Just stop killing yourself. It’s killing me watching you.”

  Tris could see the genuine concern in his friend’s eyes and vowed to pull his head out of his ass. But he couldn’t do that without closure and this thing between him and Covington would remain wide open until he dealt with it—with her.

  They needed to talk.

  He couldn’t avoid it any longer. The minute his shift ended tomorrow morning he would call Cov and see how she was doing. He knew through his limited conversations with Gavin that the two of them hadn’t gotten back together, but that didn’t mean she hadn’t moved on with someone else.

  Even if she was still single, he’d moved on—started a new life. He might still be crazy about the woman and if she turned up on his doorstep he’d definitely invite her in, but that didn’t mean he’d change his mind about relocating to Winter Lake.

  The small town in the Adirondack Mountains had been an oasis in the middle of his chaotic childhood and the minute he’d driven into town three months ago, he’d known he’d made the right decision—this was where he was meant to be.

  “Come on. The chief wants us to dig up that area out front. His wife wants to put in some sort of garden, something about bulbs and spring and brightening up everything. Hell, I don’t know, all I know is whatever Mrs. Murdock wants, Chief Murdock makes sure she gets.”

  Tris groaned at the idea of shoveling dirt. He wasn’t much of a gardener but he didn’t think it was the right time to be putting in a garden. The ground had already started to freeze as winter approached. It would be backbreaking work digging up that area.

  Dev got to his feet and grinned. “That’ll teach you for pushing yourself too hard.”

  “He saw me come in, didn’t he?” Tristan’s thigh muscles protested as he stood.

  “Yep.” Dev thumped him on the back. “Who do you think sent me in here?”

  Great. The last thing he needed was for Chief Murdock to think his head wasn’t in the right space or he couldn’t pull his weight.

  He had two more weeks of probation, then he’d be on the payroll permanently. Tris didn’t want to screw this up.

  He’d fucked up enough in the last few months so in spite of his aching body, he hauled ass outside and started digging up the hard-packed earth beside the stationhouse driveway.

  They were halfway along the roped-off section—him, not Dev, doing most of the heavy lifting—when the chief came out and stood behind them. Murdock didn’t speak and Tris wasn’t about to open his mouth and invite conversation.

  He shoveled and tossed. Shoveled and tossed.

  The hiss and grind of an engine in bad need of servicing echoed up the street, breaking his rhythm for a moment. Tris shook his head and kept shoveling.

  Someone was in for a world of hurt if they didn’t get that thing to a mechanic soon.

  “What the hell is that?” Dev asked as he straightened and leaned on his shovel. “Jesus. It looks like a Cavalier.”

  A Cavalier? Tristan’s head swung towards the road as he stood upright. He blinked several times but the snot-green vehicle continued to limp its way up the street.

  Turning, he took a step forward. “Cov?” The closer the car got, the more certain he became.

  Dropping his shovel, he jogged to the curb as the car jerked to a stop with an ear-splitting screech in front of the station, steam billowing from beneath the hood as the engine coughed and died.

  Jesus.

  She’d driven the thing all the way from LA.

  He raced around to the driver’s door and yanked it open.

  “H-hi.” She smiled up at him sheepishly.

  “You drove this piece of shit all the way across the country? What the hell were you thinking, woman?”

  They weren’t the first words he thought he’d say after months apart, but right now all he could think about was Cov stranded on the side of the road somewhere in the middle of nowhere.

  “Um…”

  “What are you doing here?”

  “Well, um.” She glanced behind him and he realized they had an audience. “Can we talk somewhere private? Somewhere warm maybe?” she asked, her voice soft and wobbly.

  Crap.

  She was bundled up like an Eskimo in what looked to be three hoodies, a couple of different colored scarves, and fluoro yellow gloves, and it wasn’t even cold enough for him to put on a jacket over his department issued t-shirt.

  Even with all those layers, her cheeks and nose were bright pink and she was shivering.

  “Yeah. C’mon, let’s get you inside.” He offered her a hand and she placed a gloved—tag still on—one in his.

  “I can’t believe how cold it is up here,” Cov mumbled, her teeth clicking together, as she swung her legs out of the car to stand. She’d barely lifted her ass off the seat when she sucked in a breath and dropped back down. “Oh. Oh. Oh. Oh.”

  “What’s wrong?” he asked, as she snatched her hand back and wrapped her arms around her waist, hunching forward.

  “I have to pee.” She looked up at him with panicked eyes. “Now. I have to pee now.”

  “You can use the bathroom inside,” Tris offered, confused by her obvious distress.

  “Where? How far?” Her gaze darted to the station entrance.

  “Right inside the front door and down the hall.” Tris gripped her elbows and pulled her out of her seat and against his chest. Except she didn’t press into him like she should have. He didn’t have time to contemplate the situation before she pulled away.

  “I gotta go.” On her feet now, she crossed her legs and bent at the middle. “Where? Where’s the bathroom?”

  “Inside, to the left—”

  “Move.” Cov pushed him aside and dashed around the open car door before racing in an ungainly fashion for the front door of the station house. He’d never seen her move so awkwardly. She was a dancer. Every move she made was fluid, graceful.

  “What the hell?” Dev muttered behind him.

  Tris glanced over his shoulder at Dev then Chief Murdock, and shrugged. “I have no idea.”

  Murdock laughed. “Nothing more dangerous than a pregnant woman who has to pee.”

  “W-what?” Tris choked out.

  The chief tipped his chin in the direction Cov had taken. “Pregnant women. It’s life-threatening to get in their way when they have to go.”

  Tristan opened his mouth to speak bu
t nothing came out. His gaze shot to the door Cov had disappeared through.

  Pregnant

  Chapter 3

  Covington burst into the women’s bathroom and stumbled toward a stall. She couldn’t get the door closed and her pants down fast enough, and with the desperate need to pee her sole focus, she tripped sideways and bashed into the wall before she managed to spin around and lower herself—pants down—to the toilet.

  A breath of relief rushed from her lungs, the knot of tension in her stomach starting to loosen as the knowledge of making it sank in.

  She flinched, her sigh of relief turning to a hiss of shock as her backside hit the cold seat.

  Muscles clenched, her whole body recoiling from the icy slap to her ass and thighs. It took a moment for everything to unclench and the floodgates to open. And as the pressure drained out of her, she wanted to get down on her knees and thank the pregnancy gods that she’d made it to the bathroom without embarrassing herself in front of Tris and two strangers.

  Unfortunately that particular humiliation wasn’t new to her; she just preferred not to live through it over and over again.

  Of course with the pressure off and the urgency gone, she had nothing to concentrate on except the reason she was here.

  Telling Tristan he was going to be a daddy.

  She wanted to hide out in this surprisingly well-appointed bathroom and avoid the conversation that was probably pointless now.

  She’d heard one of the men outside with Tris when she’d made her less than dignified dash for the bathroom say something about pregnant women and their need to pee, but she’d had other things to worry about and didn’t feel too guilty for having her ‘condition’ revealed in such an in-your-face manner by someone other than herself.

  And she hadn’t missed the brief look of confusion that crossed Tris’s face when he’d pulled her into him and her belly had bumped his. She might only be four months but with two babies on board she’d already ‘popped’, and with how lean she was everywhere else because of every day, all day morning—ha!—sickness, it was obvious to anyone with eyes that she was pregnant.

  “How you doing in there?”

  Covington jerked, made some sort of strangled animal sound, and almost toppled off the toilet.

  One hand splayed on the door in front of her, the other wrapped around the toilet roll holder in a death grip to stop herself from pitching face first on the floor with her pants around her knees, she sucked in a breath and mumbled, “Ah. Okay?”

  “Tris wanted me to check. You’ve been in here a while. Do you need anything?”

  He’d sent someone to check on her? “Um…no.” As an afterthought she added, “But thank you.”

  Figuring she was out of time, she did what she had to and flushed. Tugging up her sweatpants, Covington wiggled and rocked her hips in an attempt to inch the waistband over her rounded belly.

  The elastic was growing tighter with each day and she conceded her limited wardrobe would become nonexistent in the coming weeks. She’d have to rectify that sooner than later.

  Sighing, she gave up and left her pants rolled low on her hips knowing the layers of sweaters would hide her wardrobe malfunction and took a fortifying breath.

  She opened the stall door and moved to the sink to wash her hands, trying to ignore the woman leaning against the wall watching her with a speculative gaze.

  Washing her hands for longer than necessary, she hoped the woman would leave but when Covington finally turned the tap off she remained, posture relaxed, gaze sharp.

  “You’re from LA?” It was posed as a question but Covington was pretty sure the woman just wanted to confirm something she already knew.

  Nodding, she ripped off a piece of paper towel. “Yep.”

  “Long way from home.”

  “Hmm…” Covington hummed in reply.

  “Staying?” the woman persisted.

  Covington shrugged.

  Putting her hands up with a chuckle, she pushed off the wall with her shoulders and said, “All right. All right. I get it. None of my business.”

  Smiling, Covington dropped the wet towel in the trashcan and moved toward the door. “I should…”

  “Yes, you should. Harding is wearing a trench in the tiles waiting outside.”

  “What?”

  “Never mind. I’m Dana, by the way.” She opened the door and held it, motioning for Covington to pass through first. “After you.”

  “Thanks. I’m Covington.”

  “Unusual name.”

  “My mother’s hometown and definitely better than the other option.” At Dana’s arched eyebrow Covington added, “Mallow—one town over in case you’re curious—was behind door number two.”

  “Perhaps a third door…?”

  “Considering they were getting worse?” She laughed, shaking her head. “I think I ended up with the best outcome.”

  Dana smiled and indicated the open door. “Shall we?”

  Taking a deep breath, Covington raised her chin and steeled her resolve.

  She could do this.

  She would do this.

  She had to do this.

  Tristan deserved to know and she needed someone to share the load with. Share the joy.

  Her heart skipped at the thought of getting to hold their babies. Would they have boys or girls? One of each? Would they look like her or Tris?

  “There you are.” Tristan rushed at her as she stepped into the hall, his grip on her shoulders stopping her in her tracks, his worried gaze scanning her face. “Are you okay?”

  “Yes.” She frowned. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

  His eyes lowered to her belly.

  “Oh, right. Um…”

  “Come on.” He let go of her shoulders and offered a hand. “The chief said we could use his office to talk.”

  Nodding, she took his hand and let him lead her down the hall, deeper into the fire station.

  “I can’t believe you drove all the way from LA in that junker of yours. How long did it take you to get here?” Tris asked, as he ushered her into a meticulously neat office and closed the door behind them.

  “Um…” She’d left early Monday morning and today was Wednesday afternoon… “Three days?”

  “Three days!” He stared at her in disbelief. “You did the trip non-stop?”

  “I didn’t want to waste time—”

  “Why didn’t you fly?”

  “I—”

  “Shit. Don’t worry about that now. Where’s Gavin?”

  “Gavin?”

  “Yeah, your fiancé, why isn’t he here with you?”

  “We broke up months ago,” she muttered, confused. How could Tris forget that not so insignificant detail?

  The bust-up of her engagement was the reason they were in this predicament in the first place.

  “He knocked you up and left!” Tris roared.

  What? She took a step back. He thought Gavin was the baby daddy? Didn’t he think it was strange she was here if Gavin was the father? Did he think she’d drive all this way to tell him she was pregnant with Gavin’s kid?

  Shaking her head, she said, “Gavin isn’t the father.”

  “What the fuck, Covington?” He moved closer, anger flaring in his eyes. “Tell me who it is and I’ll kick the bastard’s fucking ass.”

  He was such an honorable guy. He’d never dream of leaving a woman if he’d gotten her pregnant. Well, he wouldn’t leave if he knew he’d gotten her pregnant.

  Tears stung her eyes and tingled the back of her nose, clogged her throat.

  God. It shouldn’t be this hard to get the words out.

  All she had to say was ‘you’re the father’ but her throat had closed up tight and her chest felt like a band of steel had wrapped around it.

  “Aw, Cov.” He pulled her into his arms, tucking her head beneath his chin. “It’s okay. I promise you, everything will be all right. I’ll make sure it is.”

  He had no idea what he was committing to. “
I—” A sob choked off her words, further constricting her chest.

  Rubbing his hands up and down her back, he made soothing sounds under his breath and it took every last bit of her remaining energy not to give in to the emotions overwhelming her and completely lose her composure.

  It wouldn’t be the first time she’d succumbed to a crying jag in the last few months. It wasn’t a normal week without her emptying at least one box of tissues.

  “Shh… It’s okay. You’re here now. I’ll take care of you,” Tris continued to reassure her.

  She needed to tell him.

  “First thing you need is rest. It couldn’t have been easy driving all that way on your own with no break.”

  Being cradled in Tristan’s arms felt wonderful but the idea of lying down, of closing her eyes for longer than the three hour catnaps in her cramped car she’d allowed herself…

  Her whole body sagged in longing.

  “I’ll get my keys and you can take my truck. You’re not driving that rattle-trap car anywhere else until I get someone to look at it.”

  “But—”

  “Shh.” He tipped her chin up with two fingers and placed his thumb over her lips. “My house is only a short distance down the road. It’s easy to find. I’ve got another sixteen or so hours until my shift ends in the morning then I’ll be home. We’ll talk about everything then.”

  “I don’t want to put you out.”

  “You’re not.”

  “I could see about staying—”

  “No. You’ll stay with me.”

  “Well, if you’re sure, but I can take my car.”

  “Covington,” he growled as he lowered his face to hers, his eyes hard and uncompromising.

  She leaned back but his hold prevented her from going too far. “Y-yes.”

  “Take the fucking truck,” he ordered, his jaw clenched.

  Opening her mouth to protest, anything she might have managed to say was drowned out by a siren screeching through the building.

  “Shit.” He let her go. “That’s a call. I gotta go.”

  Tris grabbed her hand and tugged her out of the office and back down the hall before pushing her into another room. This one had two rows of neat bunks and a wall of metal lockers.