CHAPTER TWELVE

FERN

Alex urges me to get up and pee after sex while he disposes of the condom in the tiny trash can under the bathroom sink. He has no issues walking around nude in front of me. I quickly toss on a t-shirt. When it becomes apparent that he expects me to pee while he's in there with me, I cross my arms and stare him down.

His brows raise and then lower as his lips pooch out in a cute little pout. "Something wrong?"

"You might be used to the end product of bodily functions, but I need to do my business in private."

He laughs and gives my bare butt a playful smack as he struts out of the room.

And why shouldn't he strut? Those fantasies I had about him? He completely blew them away. Wincing slightly as my tender tissues sting a bit while I pee, I blow out a breath. Maybe I should have wished for less in the cock department. It wasn't a complete monster, but it was far bigger than any real dick or toy I've had.

My eyes roll as I let out a thoughtful hum. Being stretched and stuffed so full is something I could definitely get used to, though. Alex was so patient and sweet prepping me, and I shudder to think about how much it would have hurt if he hadn't done that.

He's thoroughly ruined me for any other man and all in the space of a single night. Imagine what having him in my bed for a month or more would do.

Washing my hands, it's hard to miss the sadness that overtakes my features. I might have a month with him, probably not much more if the house sells as quickly as I hope it does.

I shove those thoughts to the back of my mind. I wanted tonight and I should enjoy it, not spend it worrying about what tomorrow will bring.

Alex is a cuddler, something I appreciate as his big, warm body wraps around me and his arms hug my middle, keeping me close.

He goes to sleep far faster than I do, as I'm plagued by all the thoughts I told myself not to think about. If only life were really that simple.

If it were, money would grow on trees, and I could stay here and see where things go with Alex. I know where I want them to, but it's just not practical. Alex is a wonderful guy, but unless he's secretly a millionaire, the massive amount of debt I'm dragging with me will bury us both.

The only solution is one already in place. Selling the house, the only thing Jared ever did right in that he owned the house and hence now I do, pay the hospital and credit cards the lower amount they agreed to, leaving me with nothing, and move in with my parents as I try to rebuild my life.

Except why does the thought of that hurt so much now? This is my new beginning, something I deserve.

I never thought I was greedy or a selfish person, but I want more now. I want Alex. I want to stay here with him, to fall in love- because I'm pretty sure I'm half-way there already, and go through this crazy, wonderful thing called life with him.

Eventually, sleep claims me with thoughts of Alex and I building a life and a family together filling my head. I wake up with Alex's head between my thighs and his tongue coaxing a shocking climax from me.

As I pant and writhe, clutching at the sheets, I realize it's not a bad way to wake up at all.

Still trying to catch my breath, Alex's head lifts and he props his chin on my mound, his lips and chin shiny with my dew.

"Good morning."

With a giggle, I arch my hips, bumping his chin up. "Good morning to you."

He crawls up my body and I'm sure he'll want to have sex going by the thick erection he's sporting. Instead he settles down next to me and pulls me into his arms, his breath ruffling my bangs. "Mmm.." he hums. "I could stay in bed with you all day."

I snuggle closer. "That sounds wonderful. Sadly, we both have work."

"That we do." He presses a kiss to my forehead, and I want to freeze this moment in time so I can feel this happy and content always.

All too soon he unwraps himself from around me and springs out of bed. It's obvious that Alex is a morning person. Something I am not.

I turn over and scrunch down in the mattress, tugging the covers over me.

"Let me rustle up some breakfast." He gives my rump a soft caress and then he's off whistling as he grabs his clothes from the floor and goes thundering down the stairs.

It's so tempting to close my eyes and get some more sleep. Instead I haul my tired body up and use the bathroom and throw some clothes on before heading down to the kitchen.

Alex is in front of the stove, frying up some eggs. At my approach he turns and grins. "All I could find were eggs."

"And coffee," I say, getting some ready.

He's not that far off from the truth. I have eggs, mayo, and creamer in the fridge. Most of my meals come from a can or box and they're all in my depressingly empty pantry.

He plates up the eggs and sits down at the tiny folding card table that's too scratched up and old for me to have bothered trying to sell. I place a mug of black coffee in front of him and generously nudge the container of creamer his way.

"Are you a minimalist?"

I can certainly see why he would think that, and I muffle a laugh behind my mug. "No."

"Have you recently moved in?"

I had hoped to have this conversation another time, but that's not truly being fair to Alex. I take a fortifying gulp of coffee and plaster a smile on my face. "Lived here for four years."

"Okay," he says, clearly puzzled as he takes in the empty kitchen counters and the mismatched chairs we're sitting on and the dingy table.

"I'm in the process of moving out. Or I will be once the septic system is installed and I can get the house sold."

Some of the confusion leaves his face and he forks up some eggs. "Downsizing. Makes perfect sense." He nods and eats the eggs. "I'm not a minimalist myself, but I live in a tiny house."

"Like those little cedar playhouses?"

He laughs so hard tears squeeze from the corners of his eyes. He wipes those away as his big body shakes from his laughter. Catching his breath, he shakes his head and gestures at his body which is dwarfing the puny card table and the metal folding chair he's sitting in. "Do you think I would fit in one of those?"

It is pretty funny picturing his muscular arms sticking out the windows and his head popping up through the play chimney. Giggles erupt out of me, and it feels so good to laugh again.

"I live in a three hundred square foot tiny house. It's on wheels and completely mobile."

"Wow. I know about campers, but this is an actual house?"

"It is, complete with a kitchen where I made you those cookies, bathroom with a shower and flushing toilet, and a loft with a king-size bed."

His eyes flash with heat when he mentions his bed and I press my thighs together.

"I didn't know that was an option." My mind whirls as I think about the possibilities, but that still doesn't change the fact that I'm broke.

"But yes, this house is far too much for me, so I'm selling it and moving to Georgia to live with my parents."

Alex's fork drops out of his hand, spilling sunny yellow scrambled eggs on the table and floor. His blue eyes are so wide that the white sclera is visible the entire way around his vibrant pupil.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Alex demands in a low voice choked with hurt.

It's hard to meet his incredulous stare. "Tell you what?"

His hand trembles as he rakes it through his hair. "That you were planning to leave."

I scrape the spilled eggs off the table and dump them into a napkin. "I didn't think it was any of your business."

"We fucked last night," he snaps. His broad shoulders bow as his mouth tightens up. "I made you cookies."

"Yes, you did." Blowing out a breath, I raise my chin and face him. "That doesn't entitle you to my life story."

A harsh growl escapes him. "Maybe not, but I was hoping for some honesty. This wasn't just a hookup for me."

I hurt him. More proof that things are moving way too fast. "Alex, I just met you," I say, but even to my own ears that sounds weak.

Yes, we only met a short while ago but it's clear that there was something between us almost from the moment our eyes met. Why else would I have spent the past two months thinking about him? Or sought him out, or agreed to dinner last night?

I want him in a way that I've never wanted anyone else before and it's downright terrifying.

My husband died five months ago, I'm penniless, and only by selling the house and moving do I have any chance of a good future. I can't stay here drowning in bills for a man I don't even know, no matter what my heart is telling me.

"Maybe you should you go," I choke out, fighting back the sting of tears.

"Go? Go where?" he snarls. "I need to be at work soon. We're finishing your septic today and then after that you'll never have to see me again."

He stands, his big fists banging down on the table as his narrowed blue eyes sweep over me. His lips part but they snap shut without him uttering another word. He shakes his head and stomps out of the kitchen.

I wait for the slamming of the front door announcing he's gone. Instead his thundering footsteps pound up the stairs and shortly, back down again. The slam that I thought I was braced for finally comes.

My entire body shakes as I hunch over the table.

I should try to stop him. I should race after him and tell him that it wasn't only a hook-up for me either.

My tears fall as my breath pants out of me unsteady and fast. I should tell him that I'm scared and so tired of being stressed and wondering what the next thing to go wrong will be. That the only thing right in my life was him.

My heart thunders in my chest and I feel miserable.

Theres's so many things I could and should do.

And I don't do any of them.

I've made so many mistakes.

Why should he have to deal with me choosing the wrong man to marry? Or that I was too foolish to pay attention to finances until it was too late? Or that the only good thing my husband did was leave me a fully paid off house and selling it is the only way out of this entire mess.

But I sit here and cry, knowing that this is ultimately for the best for him.

What could really be between us? What man wants to be saddled with a mountain of debt thanks to a woman's lying and cheating deceased husband?

Alex is an amazing man. One far too good for me to deserve.