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“This is so fucked up,” I mumble.
She pulls my underwear and pants up, and she stops to kiss my fingers, hanging from each sling. “That you’re T-Rexing it here in the wilderness?”
I snort in laughter when stretches up to kiss my mouth. I bite at her lips. “Who’s sucking dick in the woods, mm?”
“These are memories to cherish.”
“Are they? Is this everything you’d hoped for when you thought of leaving Tristan?”
“Actually, it’s everything, yes. Do you know what it was like for me—with him?” Her eyes glitter with tears, and I grit my teeth as my arm reaches for her automatically.
She kisses my side and the back side of my shoulder. I can hear her get a deep breath.
“He was horrid…like my father. When I first knew him, he wasn’t so. He was more like…someone older. I suppose perhaps a father figure. When he proposed the idea of marriage, it was more so he could remain on the island. You can’t do that, you know—unless you marry in. Not even doctors can become true residents.”
I feel her breathing against me, and I try to turn so I can see her. But she’s got her face pressed against the area behind my right shoulder. I realize I don’t think she wants me looking at her, so I try to get a hold of myself.
“He said it would be companionship—and only that. And then he broke his promise.” Her voice cracks. “He wanted…more of me…and when I didn’t give it—” She sighs loudly. “I’d like to remind you what a good cook I am. And how fashionably I plan decorate my own home one day. Please don’t see me this way…but…he hit me,” she whispers. “More than once. So I grew terrified of him.”
She’s back in front of me, wiping her eyes, clenching her jaw and looking pissed as hell. “The bar’s quite low—yes, you could make that point. But I enjoy it here because you’re here. I have a T
-Rex fetish and a bona fide addiction to this.”
She gives me a teary smile as her hand covers my bulge, and I shut my eyes, trying not to get hard when I can’t do what I want with her. Christ, I want to carry her back home and fuck her till she can’t think of anything, but especially not that fuck.
As it is, she rides me later that night. That weekend, my dad brings some deer feed out, and we spend the next week sitting in rocking chairs on the back porch, waiting for the deer to come. I’m doing a little bit of PT on both arms—not much, though—and she’s practicing pilates.
On a Sunday night, as Finley’s pulling homemade cinnamon rolls out of the oven, I see them through he window.
“Hey, come here. Look at this,” I whisper, pointing. “That’s a buck, and that’s a doe. See how he has the antlers?”
We don’t move as we watch them eat what we left. When they’re gone, Finley is laughing, and she’s wiping her eyes.
“What?” I chuckle. “We’re crying over deer now?” I lean up against her, kissing her shoulder and then her hair. “It’s okay if you wanna cry.” I kiss her hair back from her forehead—just this funny little move I learned to do with my mouth—and Finley’s soft lips catch mine.
She kisses me deeply, and then she pulls away and whispers, “No, you lout. I’m crying because I’m happy to be here with you…and you moved your arms so much today. The right one in particular pleases me,” she clarifies. “And I’m crying because I’m late with my cycle.”
My stomach feels like I just swallowed a brick. “How late are you?”
“Only a day…but I’m frightened,” she whispers.
I’ve never been so grateful for a little bit of range of motion in my arm. I hold her just a little and wrap one of my legs around hers. And I know we’re still okay, because that makes her laugh.
“You ever been a day late, Siren?”
“No.” She wipes her eyes, and more tears fall.
“What bothers you about it? Just…the baby thing?”
“I adore babies.” Behind her, Baby hears her name and raises her head. “I don’t have a home, though. I know not a single soul here in America but you…and your father. Everything is gotten with money. Your money. More than anything, I don’t want to be a burden to you.”
Now she’s sobbing, and oh shit, somehow I’ve fucked up with this.
“Shit, Finley. This is your home. Wherever I am, that’s your home. You want a card with your name on it? We can go get one at the bank tomorrow.”
She’s shaking her head.
“You don’t?”
