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She’s the picture of alluring perfection sprawled out on the bed with her long dark hair cascading over the pillow and a flirtatious grin on her face, the lace fabric teasing me with what’s hidden underneath. My knee lands on the mattress and it dips from my weight. We have an hour before I have to get Adley, and we’re going to make the most of that time.
Just as I lie on top of her, ready to kiss her, there’s a knock on the door.
I rear back, and her eyes widen, probably wondering about the shocked expression on my face.
“Someone’s at the door,” I say so she can read my lips.
Then there’s the sound of a key in the lock. I bolt up and slam the bedroom door, grabbing for my pants.
“What the fuck?” I say, but Palmer doesn’t hear me because she’s pulling a bag from the closet and tossing it on the bed. She shoves on some joggers over the lingerie and throws a hoodie over top.
I trip trying to get both legs into my pants and fall on the floor.
“Yoo-hoo!” a woman says. “Palmer?”
I stare at Palmer as she finger-combs her hair. Shit. Her cochlear implants are in the other room.
She walks across the room, laughing quietly. Stay here. Then she slides out the door, shutting it behind her.
A minute passes in which time she must put her implants in because I hear her say, “Alice, what are you doing here?”
Alice? As in Alice from Northern Lights Retirement Home? What the hell?
I get dressed, sit on the bed, and try to listen to their conversation.
After a few minutes, I question why I’m even hiding. My truck is parked outside, so surely Alice saw it.
While I wait to be let out of the bedroom, I look around the room, and finally, the pieces of whose cabin this might be come together. I see pictures of Palmer’s great-grandma Dori. I never got to meet her, but the family tells a lot of stories about her. I think I would have really liked her. Palmer has a picture in her family room of her with her great-grandma, so I recognize her. The man with Dori must be Palmer’s great-grandfather. So this was their place? How come I never knew about it? Palmer has never said anything to me.
I pick up my phone to kill some time, but I have no signal. I look up the Wi-Fi, but the network called Big D’s is password protected. Great. I huff, resting my back on the headboard.
My eyes catch on Palmer’s duffle bag strewn open on the bed, some clothes haphazardly shoved in. Her laptop peeks out. I reach for it. If she’s been working here, she must be on the Wi-Fi. I’ll surf the net or something to pass the time.
I situate myself on the bed and open the laptop. Her manuscript comes up, but I click on the internet. I’ve been wanting to get Adley a swing set for her birthday this year, so I search for a local place to check it out. Between all Palmer’s cousins and me, we should be able to build it with no problem.
Her manuscript tempts me though. I don’t want to pry, but I love reading her work, and she’s been so secretive about this book. Usually she’s asking for my opinion on different plot points or ideas she might have.
Reading a few paragraphs isn’t going to hurt.
Bea’s abdomen was getting bigger by the day and her libido was off the charts. She wanted to have sex, and the more she watched Pete around their apartment, the more her body screamed at her for not taking him to bed.
She didn’t want to give Pete the wrong idea. She knew he had feelings for her that went deeper than friendship, and no matter what, she wouldn’t toy with him. She had to put the baby first.
If she was truthful with herself, she’d admit that she loved Pete as more than a friend. There was no denying her attraction to him that first night at the bar. If Sarah hadn’t showed up that night, Bea wondered if they’d be a couple right now.
I frown, sitting back against the headboard. Is her story our story? It’s all so similar. That first night, my crazy ex showed up at that diner, knocking out my headlights. She had been clingy from the beginning, and I should’ve seen the writing on the wall. Palmer retreated after that, and I’d felt the wall go up, blocking me out.
I scroll down a few pages and read more.
Bea was a nervous wreck. She’d lost her job and knew no one would hire a person as pregnant as she was. Who was going to take the time to train a new employee when that employee was about to go on maternity leave? She’d been at home all night while Pete worked at the bar. She wrote down a list of options for herself, but she only saw one real one. One which wasn’t ideal.
How was she going to tell Pete she wanted to go home? She—they—needed a network of people to help them if they had any chance of making it. But she’d already taken away his snowboarding dream. She didn’t want to force him into a small town he had no link to or desire to be in.
She grabbed some food from their favorite Mexican restaurant and set it up on the small table. As she arranged the table, waiting for him to come home, she convinced herself that he didn’t have to come with her. He could be involved in her life with their daughter as much or as little as he wanted, but she had to go somewhere with help.
The door opened, and her stomach clenched. Now was the moment she’d been dreading since coming to the conclusion to return home.
Pete set his keys on the table by the door as always, and she heard him get out of his boots, placing them on their mat. And when the pads of his steps rang out, she thought she might throw up.
