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I exit the food bank and stop to glance at the store next door. Resurrection Real Estate. I look up, following the red arrows and lettering that readsAPARTMENTS FOR RENT.
When I was a kid, I always loved the old brick buildings on the main drag in Resurrection. I always pictured brick walls, wooden floors, and old gas lanterns, even though I know now what a terrible fire hazard it would be.
I give my stomach a rub like it’s a good luck charm and enter the office, where I schedule an appointment for a showing at the end of next week.
The sky’s a crisp blue as I walk back toward The Corner Store, a bounce in my step as I pass the biker bar next to the lingerie store. I’m only ten minutes away, but I can feel Davis worrying. Watching. My body can’t shake his eyes. It can’t shake a lot of things. Like, the fact we’re sneaking around like old times.
There’s no naming what we are, no expectations or commitments, just sex on the sly.
Permanently wrinkled bed sheets.
Stone-cold secrecy.
We’re beating the heat we had that summer. A heightened awareness lingers between us, our hands and lips magnetized for each other. Every time he buries his face in my hair and growls, a delicious ache forms in the pit of my stomach. It’s like instead of backing away from whatever’s between us, we jumped in head first. Unleashed it.
What that is, I wish I knew.
It’s a wonderful feeling to have him back in my life, but also so terrible because it will end. I’ve loved him for so long, but I have bigger life problems than to tell him how I feel.
Especially right now.
This will end when the baby comes, if not before that, and I have to be okay with it.
Before I cross the sidewalk, my gaze flicks across the street to the Little Prairie Market. Beneath its minimalistic sign, a cheery red strip of metal with silver cursive proclaims,Farm and Famliy Focused. With its white shutters, shiny red façade, and garage style doors, it’s like nothing I’ve ever seen in my town.
It’s beautiful.
I bite my lip, guilt and curiosity crawling through my veins. Do I dare?
Yes, I dare.
I narrow my eyes and cross the street, hustling past the town terror, a ferocious-looking Pitbull named Hungry Hank. I want to see this store Fallon’s been complaining about, but first, I reach for my phone in my back pocket and fire off a text to Davis.
Me: Wanna get frisky?
Davis: Dakota.
I smile at the stern message. My heart thumps as I watch those three bubbles appear, disappear. Falling back into our bantering texts feels right.
Davis: What do you have in mind? Should I bring handcuffs?
I giggle.
Me: Well, it does involve nudity.
Me: I need new bras.
Davis: What?
Me: I want to check out the new market. You’re my bodyguard, right? C’mon, Hotshot. Move those boots for my boobs.
Me: Can you come?
Davis: For you, always.
Davis: Be there in five.
Mission accomplished, I pocket my phone and head inside the store.
