Page 16

We haven’t talked about the kiss. I think we both know that it happened in the heat of the moment, when emotions were high. But that hasn’t stopped me from thinking about it.

I mostly managed to erase it from my mind at work today, but now that I’m back home and he’s here, it keeps playing on repeat. A scene from a movie that I keep rewinding to watch over and over again.

I’ve come to the realization that I miss kissing Beau.

I miss being with him. After the miscarriage, I could hardly let Beau touch me without feeling like I was going to fall apart.

He was so gentle and caring, and it plucked at my frayed and broken heartstrings.

At any given moment, I was one kind gesture from falling completely apart.

Intimacy—sexual or otherwise—was basically nonexistent.

It wasn’t until that night at the bar that I realized how starved I was for it. For him.

And I don’t know how to handle that desire anymore.

It was always so simple before, but now I feel like I’m walking on a tightrope.

If I let Beau back into my bed, it means letting him into the bubble I’ve created around myself, and I’m not sure I’m strong enough for that yet.

I need to be better. The parking lot panic attack last week proved that.

So for right now, kissing my husband is off-limits. No matter how badly I might want to.

I look up at Beau from where I’m curled up on the couch.

He’s dressed for family dinner at the big house, and a small part of me wants to go with him.

But a much larger part is worried I won’t be welcome, not after the separation.

Not after the way I hurt him. The Jenningses have always accepted me as one of their own, but they wouldn’t choose me over him, and I wouldn’t want them to.

He’s wearing Wranglers that hug his ass in the most distracting of ways, a flannel button-down, and a shearling-lined jacket to ward off the cold.

Outside, snow falls in fat flakes, coating the ground.

If I had to guess, I would say this will be our last big snow of the season.

As much as I love it, I’m ready for sunshine and wildflowers. I’m ready to put this winter behind me.

When he checks his reflection in the hallway mirror, he catches me staring and smiles. “See something you like, Elsie baby?”

I’ve always loved it when he calls me that. It’s only ever when we’re alone, and it makes my blood heat and goose bumps prickle out along my skin. This time is no different.

Damn the no kissing rule.

“The jacket,” I lie. “Can I have it?”

He turns and walks the short distance from the hallway to the living room, his cowboy boots thudding against the hardwoods. “I don’t think it’s quite your size.”

“Well, shit.”

“Plus, it’s pretty cold out.”

I let my eyes drift past him to the huge windows facing the mountains. They’re covered in a thick layer of snow, and more falls, faster and faster, as the hours have passed. “Are you sure it’s safe to head out to Lucky Stars?”

It’s just fifteen minutes down the road, but fifteen minutes down snow-covered country roads is a lot different from driving down a cleared highway.

He walks over to the window, assessing. I appreciate that about him. Cooper would say it was fine without even looking, but Beau has always been more cautious, and he wouldn’t leave if he didn’t think he could get back safely.

“I think it’ll be fine,” he says, turning back to me. He holds my gaze for a moment, warm brown eyes searching mine. “You sure you don’t want to come?”

My nausea has been surprisingly under control today, probably because I’ve been sucking on ginger candies since I woke up, but it comes back now. The thought of seeing everyone, of having to watch them hide the disdain and disappointment they’re sure to feel for me, makes me sick to my stomach.

I shake my head. “No, I think it will be better if you tell them by yourself.” Maybe the news of the baby will soften their feelings toward me.

I expect Beau to leave then, but he surprises me by crossing his arms over his chest, and something flips over in my stomach at the sight of his shearling-lined denim jacket pulling taut over his biceps. “Why do you think that?”

The question pulls me out of my trance, and I meet his eyes. They’re harder than I would have expected, a look I don’t usually see on him. I can hardly think of a time in the last decade when he’s questioned my decisions or the reasoning behind them. He always just rolls with the punches.

“What do you mean?” I ask.

“Why do you think it’s going to be better if I tell them alone?”

A thousand thoughts flit through my brain—of his parents’ expressions morphing into disdain when they see me, of his siblings accusing me of getting pregnant just to fix things with Beau, of Ruby no longer looking up to me, telling me she wants to be a ballerina just like me when she grows up—but I don’t know how to voice any of them without pulling my heart out and pinning it to my sleeve.

“I—” I start, unsure of how to finish my sentence. “They’ll take it better from you.”

A muscle in his jaw ticks. “How do you think they’re going to take it?”

I swallow and lick my lips, watching as his gaze darts down to follow the movement. “I think they’ll be happy,” I finally say.

“But they wouldn’t be if you were there?” he asks. His gaze narrows, like he’s trying to piece out this puzzle and he’s getting closer with every question. I hate how exposed I feel.

“I don’t know,” I answer slowly. “And I’m not willing to risk it.”

He sighs and pushes a hand through his hair. “Elsie, why would you even think something like that? My entire family loves you. You’re as much a part of the family as I am.”

I feel myself shrinking into the couch, wanting to hide myself from him, from the emotions that are simmering below the surface of my skin, the ones he seems to have X-ray vision for.

Before I can respond, his eyes soften, and the tension in his shoulders loosens.

He looks defeated, sad. I wish I could make it better.

But if I wounded him with this one confession, letting him see all the dark thoughts in my head would wreck him.

He moves until his knees hit the couch, and he leans down over me, close enough that I can smell the minty scent of his toothpaste.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to go yet, but I need you to know that whenever you’re ready, our family will be waiting for you with open arms. They love you and they’re going to be so thrilled about this baby.

” He smiles then, one side of his mouth lifting before the other. “Not as excited as me, of course.”

I follow his gaze down to where it’s now trained on my stomach, and something inside me turns to mush when he presses his large, calloused hand there and says, “Hey, baby. It’s your daddy. I’ll be back soon. Take care of your mom for me, and don’t make her feel too sick.”

Before I can respond, although I don’t know how I would over the lump clogging my throat, he presses a kiss to my temple and says, “Be back soon, Elsie baby.”

He leaves me sitting on our couch, his words ringing through my head. I’m not sure how long I sit there before there’s a knock at the door. I push up off the couch and head for it, swinging it open to find Jade standing on the other side, a huge smile on her face.

“What are you doing here?” I ask, staring at her, confused. She always goes to family dinner at the big house with her parents, who have become close friends with the Jenningses over the years.

She smirks, pushing past me into the living room. “Hello to you too. Get dressed, we’re getting dinner. Anywhere that won’t make you throw up.”

I follow her through the house, watching as she plops down in the exact place on the couch I vacated. “Why aren’t you at Lucky Stars?”

She shrugs, like her answer is obvious. “Because I wanted to spend the evening with my best friend.”

I give her a grateful smile. I may not have wanted to go to dinner tonight, but I didn’t want to spend my evening alone. “Well, I’m glad you came,” I say and mean it. “But we can’t go out. It’s snowing.”

She rolls her eyes. “It’s just a little snow. If we leave now, we will be back before it gets bad. Now go get dressed.”

I look down at my gray sweats. There’s a stain on my left boob and a hole in the knee. But they’re warm and comfy.

“Can I just wear this?”

She sighs, as if this single question is the last one she has the patience for. “Fine, but we’re ordering out and eating in the car, then.”

I smile because that’s my ideal dinner anyway and she knows it.

She waits for me as I slip a jacket over my shoulders and shove my feet into a pair of boots.

The cold is bitter, the wind whipping against any bare skin and instantly chilling me to the bone.

Snow falls in thick flakes, piling onto the powder already dusting the ground.

Above us, only a few stars penetrate the clouds, lighting our way to her truck.

We climb inside, and she cranks the heat and the radio. “Where to?”

“A burger actually sounds good.”

“Really?” she asks, sounding incredulous.

When I laugh, it puffs in the cold air of the cab. “Surprisingly, yes, but if you’d asked me that at lunch, I probably would have thrown up.”

“Pregnancy is fascinating.”

“It really is.”

She turns out of the driveway. The roads are thankfully still pretty clear from the other vehicles that have driven down it. Our house is situated between downtown Larkspur and Lucky Stars, so our road gets a decent amount of traffic. I’m more worried about Beau making it home tonight.

“Beau showed me the sonogram this morning,” Jade says.

“Yeah?” I ask. I can’t help but feel my frozen heart melt just a little at the thought of a proud Beau pulling out that blurry photo to show her.

She flashes me a smile. “Cutest blob I’ve ever seen.”

A laugh escapes me. “I can’t disagree.”

“Are you seven weeks now?”