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CHAPTER1
NOVA
SEPTEMBER
The warehouse is the same, but I am completely different. I duck to centre the old brick building in the windshield of my van and tighten my hold on the steering wheel like the van itself is going to throw me out the door and into him.
Shaky breath tugs my nerves, and I unravel a little more with each one. My stomach rolls with insecurity. Each wave brings on a fresh new vision of how fucking uncomfortable this will be.
“Just go in,” I say to myself, forcing my fingers from the steering wheel and stepping out into the fresh mountain air. I welcome a deep cleansing inhale through my limbs, but it does little to help the tremor in my right hand. “Tell him.”
The door dings as I enter the mechanic's shop, and the sound rips through my body, reminding me of his hands on me—his fingers through my hair and the ways he satisfied my body. My cheeks flush, and I place my palm over my belly. The only plus side to this is a new kind of wanting to barf replaces my regular morning sickness.
The office door opens, and I brace myself for him. I steel myself to the truth—the reason why I’m here. The words begin to form on my tongue, but in reality, I’ve barely said them aloud since I sat on a gas station toilet in Fairbanks, Alaska, staring at the little pink plus sign.
An old man steps behind the counter, sending my nerves crashing down from their heightened state. This rolling ocean of emotion is not great for me, and the numbness begins in my toes at the increased cortisol.
“Can I help you?” He says, rubbing his stained palms on his coveralls and peering over his glasses. White hair peppers through the dark curls, and his brown eyes are kind.
“Um, I’m looking for someone who works here. Young guy, scruffy…” I trail out because the next word I want to say is sexy. So sexy.
“Ah, Zeke. He’s off for a few days. Maybe I can help you out?” He smiles, and he’s missing a tooth on the bottom, which makes his smile all the more endearing.
“No, sorry. I need to talk to him.”
This is something you definitely can’t help me with,I think as my hands go to my stomach again, cradling the life growing in there.
“Well, I think he’s staying out at his brother’s farm—a dozen or so kilometres up the highway to Morleau. You’ll see the drive when you get there. There’s an auction sign still up with directions.” The man leans on the counter, and his gaze flickers around my face and drops to my hands, still guarding my belly as if my body isn’t doing a good enough job.
“Thank you,” I say with a pleasant smile, my Press-Smile. The one I perfected while standing behind my mother on a red carpet—quiet, compliant, pretty.
I head to my van, my mind already whirring with thoughts of driving, jumping in, and taking off down the highway to my home in Tennessee. Why do I need to tell him? Why does he need to know how my fuck up has forever altered his existence?
He could go on living his everyday life, having no clue there’s a child out there in the world belonging to him.
I let my forehead fall to the steering wheel, jarring the thoughts loose.
Because I’m a lot of things, but I’m not that heartless. Again, my gut rolls at the betrayal of it like the little bean itself is already talking back and demanding to meet its daddy.
Tiny padding footsteps sound before a soft meow, and I lean back to let my cat jump into my lap. His gray head tips to the side and his tail twitches.
“There’s no other option, Figgy,” I say, kissing him on the snout and moving him to the passenger seat. There never was another option.
As I pull out onto the highway, I’m sure I’m doing the right thing. I have no idea what will come of it all, but I need to do this. Visions of those soulful brown eyes burrowing deep into me, the overflowing need my stranger poured into me with each hard kiss. Zeke is his name.
After we were together, when the high of it wore off, the same fear I have right now rooted itself in my gut. I took off without meeting him for the same reason driving me to go to him now.
In him, something called to me on a deeper level than sex with a stranger should ever bring out.
When he shed his smug grin and opened his body to my touch, the loneliness in him latched itself onto the loneliness in myself. I haven’t been able to detach it.
