Chapter Three

Sky

We’re halfway through the drive when Carson pulls into our mountain lodge. It’s late and the neon sign above the place is glowing bright. Being that we’re in the middle of nowhere, I don’t expect much from any hotel, but I’m pleasantly surprised when we step inside the lobby. I wonder if Carson planned this out like he did the bathrooms. Every single toilet we used was pristine, like he’d found some review website online and tracked the good ones down. The man deserves a reward for that one.

The entry to the lodge is small, but modernly updated with fresh hardwood floors, a gorgeous rock wall waterfall, and a front desk with a smiling receptionist standing behind it. The woman looks at us and asks, “How can I help you folks tonight?”

Carson nods. “I have a reservation under Rugged Mountain Security.”

The woman types away at her computer, then looks up with a smile. “Yes, I have you in room eighteen.”

“One room?” I lean into Carson. He’s gone to so much trouble, and I don’t want to make a huge deal out of this, but staying in one room is the most dangerous thing that could happen tonight.

He turns away from the counter as the woman makes the key. “They had two, but I figured we’d be okay in one. There are two beds.”

“Actually,” the curly haired woman interjects, “this reservation is for a king style room. We sold out for tonight and had to move some things around. If that’s going to be a problem, I can send you to our sister hotel about a hundred miles up the road.”

A sister hotel… a hundred miles away? That hardly seems convenient. I glance down at my swollen feet. I don’t think I can take another hour and a half in the car.

“Do you have a rollaway bed or a—”

“No,” the woman groans. “I’m so sorry. I can see if there’s an air mattress in the stock closet, but I doubt—”

“It’s fine,” I say, twisting my hair to one shoulder. “We’re fine. Thank you.” I’m not sure any of this is actually fine. Being alone with Carson all night is like locking me in the bakery with the apple cider donuts. I don’t have the willpower to say no, and chances are, I will devour them by morning.

Carson glances down at me. He’s huge and my lady parts are aching already. “You sure? If this is weird for you, we can—”

“You’ve been driving for hours. You’re not going to sleep on an air mattress. We can sleep in the same bed for one night. It’s not a big deal.” I truly don’t want him to feel bad. He’s gone out of his way to help me, and though things were weird in the truck for a second, he doesn’t owe me any explanations. I mean, he could’ve dropped out of my life for a million reasons. One of them could’ve been the simple fact that I got older and didn’t need him as much. It’s not like he didn’t talk to me when we ran into each other.

The woman slides the key card across the table, tells us about breakfast in the morning, and offers us complimentary cookies, which I gladly accept. They’re chocolate chip, and I don’t turn things like that down these days… or ever.

Carson handles our bags and guides us down the hallway and around the corner toward room eighteen. I’d love to say my stomach isn’t churning at this point, but it is. I don’t know why I still want him so badly. I mean, I know why … he’s everything a girl would want. Big, tall, inked, handsome, thoughtful, kind, protective, and a million other little things that make him… him.

God, I need to get a grip.

Inside the room is a placard of a fire escape plan mounted on the wall. Beyond that, closets with non-removable hangers and extra blankets. The bed is huge and takes up most of the space, but hard tiled floors surround the area with dark grout lines. I set my bag on the table next to the television and head toward the bathroom. We’ve stopped a million times, but still… it’s an emergency.

Thankfully, this bathroom is gorgeous. Clean bathrooms just do something for me. Maybe it’s because I grew up with a messy older brother. He couldn’t keep anything clean. To the left is a tile shower with a rolling glass door and a pretty marble countertop with a waterfall sink. Beneath the sink are stacks of extra toilet paper rolls, fluffy white towels, and a tray with complimentary tissue paper and lotion.

I’m happy here. Maybe I’ll just lock myself in this room and never leave, then I don’t have to talk to Carson and the inevitable throbbing of my clit can stay shut behind this door forever.

Yes, I think that’ll work. I use the restroom, turn on the shower and run the cool water until it turns warm, strip off my dress, and step into the steam, letting the water work my back before I lather up in the fancy lavender soap that’s affixed to the wall. The aroma is so nice. I close my eyes and tip my head back, letting the water soak me as I avoid all thoughts of Carson.

I don’t know why I let my head go back to this place so regularly. I know he’s off limits. I know he wants nothing to do with me. But still, I can’t stop myself from wanting him. His big, rough hands. His deep voice in my ear. His weight against my frame.

Damn it!

I sigh as a warm emptiness rumbles through me. My clit has been throbbing all day, and as I wash between my legs, I’m still a sticky mess. I consider rubbing one out to get the urges out of my system, but I don’t trust my balance in this slippery tile shower. Besides that, I should probably get my feet up. They’re getting more swollen the longer I stand.

Twisting off the knob, I step from the shower, wrap myself in the robe hanging behind the door, then towel dry my hair before walking out into the cool room, steam accompanying me as I leave.

Carson sits on the bed with his legs up, the remote in his hand, his jeans hanging on the back of the chair. He took no time getting relaxed.

Why is he hotter like this? Maybe it’s because he has his pants off ? That’ll usually do it.

“You okay?” His tone is low and concerned.

“Yeah. Sorry to steal the bathroom. One thing led to another and all of the sudden I was in the shower.”

He laughs. “I think I’ll jump in quick, too. You hungry?”

I glance down at my phone. It’s only seven o’clock. “Yeah, but I don’t feel like getting dressed again. You want to order a pizza?”

“Sounds perfect. I’ll have whatever you’re having.” He disappears behind the bathroom wall, and I glance down at my phone. I missed a call from my friend Kelly. I should let her know I’m okay.

Kelly’s been my rock throughout the pregnancy, and I know she’s worried. I dial her number and pull up the website for the closest pizza shop while it rings.

“Hey,” she answers right away, “what’s up? I figured I’d have heard from you by now.”

“Sorry. It’s been a busy day, and I didn’t want to be on my phone the whole time we were driving. We’re in now, though. How are you?”

I put a large pepperoni pizza in the cart with a dozen wings, extra crispy.

“Ugh… shitty,” she groans. “I’ve got to clean out Mom’s house soon, which means I’m headed out to Rugged Mountain.”

“All roads really do lead back there.” I laugh nervously. “Sorry about your mom. I know it’s not easy.”

She sighs. “It’s time. I’m okay. I just don’t like being back there. Too many ghosts, ya know?”

My brother and I traveled to Rugged Mountain all the time for the rodeo. That’s where I met Kelly. That’s where a lot of out of towners meet. The plan was to meet a cowboy, though Kelly is much better than a rodeo boy ever could’ve been. She listens to me, gives a damn about what I’m saying, and she understands things about me that I’m pretty sure no cowboy could.

“I do know,” I say, adding drinks to the pizza cart. “I’ll be back in a couple of days, and I can help.”

She laughs under her breath. “Yeah, I’m hoping to be done with this in a couple of days. The last thing I want to do is run into people.”

I bite my lip as I press order on the screen. “Who is this man you’re worried about running into? He must be good.”

I swear I can hear her eyes roll. “What makes you think it’s a man?”

“Is it a man?”

She hesitates. “Yes, it’s a man. A man I don’t need to be running into anymore. I’m thirty-two years old. I need to let old flames go and move on, not see them and reignite things that would never work.” Her words sound like advice she doesn’t know she’s giving me.

“You are being insanely cryptic about this mystery man.”

“Yup! Life is weird.”

“You have to give me more than that. You know I’m over here crushing on Carson.”

“How’s that going, by the way?”

“Well, my clit won’t stop throbbing and now we’re sharing a room together, so I think it’s going well.”

She laughs. “So… that’s an adventure. Are you going to make him the new baby daddy and call it a day?”

“I wish! Now tell me who this mystery guy is.”

She pauses as though she’s thinking over how to best describe what’s happening. “I met him while I was married, and I don’t know…we had a connection. Nothing happened, but I’ve thought about him over the years. That’s all.”

My jaw drops. “How long have we been friends?”

“I know. I know, but what is there to say? Nothing could come of it, anyway. He was off limits and so was I. The end.”

“You’re divorced now, though. You should look him up.”

“Yeah… and find out he’s happily married. No, thanks. I think I’ll keep the nice memory of him I have in my head. Everyone is happier this way.”

Given the fact that I’m currently in love with someone I can’t pursue, I don’t have a ton of good advice other than the opposite of everything I’m doing. Even then, I get why she wants to keep him in her head. In my head, the fantasy of what Carson and I could be far outweighs what would happen if I finally told him how I feel.

“Anyway,” she sighs, “I should get moving. I still have so much to do here. I just wanted to check on you. Text me tomorrow and let me know everything went okay.”

“Will do. Love you, girl. Talk soon!” The line disconnects and I lean back against the headboard, sucking in the fresh scent of lavender that wafts from the bathroom. The door is cracked, and though I wish it were an invitation, it’s not. Apparently, we’re just comfortable around each other. It makes sense. We’ve known each other forever. We should be comfortable.

Comfortable. Comfortable. Comfortable.

Yay…

I really should take a piece of my own advice and let whatever happens, happen.

The water shuts off and I stand quickly to rummage through my suitcase, feeling for the thin nightgown I brought with me. I could wear the robe all night, but the room is warm, and I like sleeping cold.

I make the exchange quickly, then pull the brush from the front pocket of my bag and comb through my hair before peeling back the heavy comforter to slide between the crisp sheets. I don’t snuggle down. I stay sat up and pretend to look interested in the baking competition that’s flashing on the television. They’re making Halloween desserts. I gather that the point is to make a monster out of cupcakes. Some of these designs are far superior to others. Sometimes I wonder how people even get on these shows.

The bathroom door slides open and Carson walks out.

My heart stops, but I keep my focus on the TV. Most of my mind does what I’ve asked, but a little of my attention is on him, though my head is still straight forward.

He has a towel tied around his waist, his chest glistens with water, and his arms flex as he moves. He’s so hot. So… so… hot.

“You alright over there?”

Oh God, he’s seen me staring. Was I staring?

“Yeah.” I snap my gaze away. “Sorry, I’m exhausted.”

“It’s okay. I’m worried about you. Today was a lot of travel. Let me see your feet.” He doesn’t bother putting on a t-shirt or pants. He walks toward me, sits on the edge of the bed, and pulls my feet from beneath the comforter like they’re his to care for. “You need to raise these up to get the swelling down.” He grabs pillows from the head of the bed and tucks two of them beneath my swollen ankles. “Tomorrow we’ll need to prop these up while we drive. You might want to ride in the back and keep them elevated.”

I hate that he’s seeing me like this. My ankles look like packages of bread, my toes like little sausages. He looks like a fucking god, and I look like a Rollie Pollie. Literally, I don’t think there’s an ounce of me that’s not swollen.

A wash of heat rolls over me. I’m so embarrassed, but I don’t want to tell him I’m embarrassed. I want to play it cool. I want to be the girl who just accepts who she is and owns it. Everyone likes that girl, even if that girl isn’t perfect. People are attracted to her because she believes she is. I swear that’s a thing. The more you believe you’re great, the more other people think you’re great.

I lift my head up, all intention of holding it together, but my hormones don’t let me. Instead, they create tears and push them out of my eyes at hyper speed until I’m belly ache crying like a damn fool.

Awesome.

Carson looks up at me. “Honey, what’s wrong?”

My pussy throbs. How can my pussy be throbbing at the same time tears are falling? It doesn’t make sense.

“I’m disgusting.” Okay, I’m doing it. I’m saying the things. “Look at me. I’m… my whole body is like a balloon. I hurt, too. My back. My neck. These stupid feet.”

He lifts his hand and wipes my tears away. “Honey, you are not disgusting. You’re gorgeous. Really, really fucking gorgeous.” His gaze sticks on mine as he says it, sending warmth through me.

“You’re just saying that. You feel sorry for me.” I cry harder. God, I’m a mess. Someone save me. Isn’t there an escape button somewhere, or a rewind? I could really use a rewind right now.

Carson bites back a smile. “I don’t feel sorry for you, honey. I feel love for you, and I love the way you look right now.” He’s told me he loves me a million times over the years, but never like this. Never intimately with the two of us alone. He pulls back the sheet and nods toward my stomach. “May I?”

My body is already exposed to him in a way I haven’t exposed myself to anyone. Not like this. Not while I’m bloated and gross.

For some reason, I nod.

He brushes his rough hand up my leg and rubs over my stomach. “I’ve never touched a pregnant belly before.”

“Really? Never?”

He shakes his head. “You know what you’re having?”

“A girl. I’m thinking I’ll name her Tess after my mom.”

“Tess,” he repeats, moving his hand in circles over my stomach. “I like that.”

My clit is on fire, throbbing, aching, desperate. My pussy is wet, and though this should be considered innocent touching, I need his cock.

The baby shifts and my eyes widen. “Did you feel that?”

He shakes his head. “No. She moved?”

I nod and grip his hand in mine, sliding it toward the spot on my belly where her feet are pressing through.

His eyes light and his mouth drapes open.

Somewhere around this time, my heart crushes into a thousand pieces. Maybe because I know I’ll never feel this with anyone, not for real. I’ll never have a moment where the love of my life holds my belly in awe as our baby kicks.

“Wow. This is crazy.” Carson moves his hand, following Tess as she squirms in my stomach. “I can feel her toes.”

I nod, and without thought, I lift my nightgown pointing toward the spot where her little feet make indents on my stomach.

“Fuck! You can see her feet. Is that normal?” His brows are narrowed playfully.

“Yeah, that’s normal. Tickle them. She’ll respond.”

He presses against her foot and Tess rolls away and meets him with a hand. Carson is in awe. I see it all over his face. Which only makes me love him more. Which only makes this hurt more. Which only makes my pussy ache more. Which only makes me want to tell him the truth about how I feel.

“She’s going to be amazing, honey. I already know it. If she’s half as good as you, she’ll have it made.”

I stagger in a breath and stare toward Carson. Our gaze sticks on one another, and while I try to look away, I can’t.

I really can’t. It’s like a universal force.

My heart warms and swells, and my breath picks up. Tears well in my eyes and Carson’s sandpaper hand brushes my cheek.

He hasn’t looked away, not once.

My belly still exposed, he leans in and lands a soft kiss against my mouth. My thighs ache and my heart beats at an ungodly speed.

What’s happening?

Again, another kiss. This one with more pressure, a growl in his throat.

“You’re a good girl. You know that?”

My entire body lights with fire. My skin prickles and my heart races. I want to be with him. I need to be with him. I need him to touch me.

His kiss deepens as his tongue slides against mine. Then all at once, he moves closer, leans in, and kisses me like he’s wanted to kiss me for ages. Like he’s also felt everything I’ve been feeling, and right now, he’s releasing all of it.

I link my fingers onto the back of his thick neck and pull him close, kissing his lips, devouring him as deeply as I can. He tastes like cinnamon and smells like pine.

Dear Lord, what’s going on? Maybe I passed out and I’m dreaming. Maybe this isn’t happening at all.

He deepens the kiss, and I moan against his mouth. Dream or not, whatever’s happening, I don’t want it to end.