Page 21 of Tied up in Knots (Gummy Bear Orgy #4)

Pregnant women always have the best knockers

What the fuck am I doing here? Is the question that keeps looping on repeat in my head.

I swore once I left Alaska I would never return.

So why is that as soon as I made it to Florida I turned right back around and started heading back?

I’ve already made it back to the southern coast of California.

Probably a record of some sort. Six months from Alaska to Florida and back again.

I’ve anchored for the night, the coast a few miles away in the distance to the east while the sun sets over the Pacific Ocean in the west. The sunsets are always better on the west coast. With just the ocean on the horizon and nothing in between.

My boat sways gently in the calm waters.

A soothing motion that always comforted me, but even now the movement does nothing to put me at ease.

I don’t know why I’ve been so twisted up inside.

It’s been like this since I left the only home I’ve ever known nearly six months ago.

Nowhere I’ve gone has given me the feeling I was so desperate to find. Maybe I never will.

Pulling a long drag from the neck of my beer bottle, I try to force relaxation and peace. The cushioned bench on my deck, that I always loved napping on on warm summer days in the past, now feels like reclining on broken glass and rocks.

“What the fuck is wrong with me?” I yell at myself and the emptiness of the ocean around me, hoping a talking dolphin will jump on deck and answer my question. None does and I groan in frustration.

Just as I’m about to chuck my bottle into the ocea n _ something I would normally never d o _ I’m saved from littering in my anger by my phone ringing.

I’m close enough to shore now to get a signal, and the name on the screen and matching ridiculous face, makes me grin and hope that maybe my best friend can put things into perspective for me.

I answer the video call and prop the phone on a small table next to the bench, sitting up to get a better angle on the camera.

“Hey! There he is. Long time no see man.”

“Hey Owen. It’s good to see you too.”

“Where are you now? Last time I talked to you I think you were back in South America somewhere.”

I hadn’t told Owen precisely that I was making my way back towards Alaska.

I wasn’t even sure if I was going to go back or not.

Something inside me forced me to sail this way.

Not sure why. Maybe just missing my friends?

Although I didn’t like the warm south as much as I thought I would.

Too sticky, and full of people. I never realized I didn’t like crowded places until I was in the middle of one.

Tourists covered in white creamy sunblock and completely forgetting their common sense. Utterly annoying.

“Still in the south,” I say avoiding answering his question directly.

“Well, wherever you are, it looks sunny and warm.”

“It is.”

Tossing my empty bottle in the recycle bin where it belongs, I pull another from the built-in cooler on deck and pop the top chugging a mouth full.

“What’s that on your wrist?”

I look down at my wrists not sure what he’s referring to, spotting the turquoise-colored rope wrapped twice around my wrist. I’ve been wearing it for so long now I’d nearly forgotten about it.

It’s the curtain tie from Bambi’s apartment that I used to tie her wrists together.

I pocketed it before leaving and after realizing I had no intention of removing it from my wrist, I went to a metal worker and had them fashion a clasp for it so I wouldn’t have to worry about large knots and dangling tassels.

Although I did keep a tassel and turn it into a keychain which now dangles from the floater and key for my boat.

The small rope is long enough to wrap around my wrist twice comfortably.

I never expected to be a jewelry type of guy, but I made an exception.

Wearing Bambi’s rop e _ the one that wrapped so beautifully around her ski n _ on my body, became a type of solace.

A way to quiet the tumultuous storm that seems to be raging nonstop in my chest these days.

“Is that a rope?” Owen continues, squinting and moving his face close to the screen as if that’ll make it easier to see. “I knew you were into that kind of thing, but I thought you liked to tie them up? Not the other way around.”

Owen knows about my proclivity for bondage, to a degree. He doesn’t talk about it around others but has no problem taunting me about it in private whenever he gets the chance.

“Yes, it’s a rope. Is that why you called me? To chastise me on my choice of jewelry?” I tease him right back, hopefully deflecting any further questions about the rope and its significance.

“Like to keep it handy just in case, huh?” Owen bounces his eyebrows in a suggestive manner, and I’ll let him believe whatever he wants. As long as he doesn’t know the truth of it.

“Oh yeah, there are so many eager women just lining up on my dock waiting for me to tie them up with my bracelet rope,” I drawl sardonically while taking another swig of my beer.

It feels nice to jest with Owen after so many weeks and months away.

I’ve made a few friends along the way, even had a few offers from women.

All of which I turned down. Apparently, my dick wants nothing to do with anyone who isn’t Bambi, because she’s the only one I can think about while jerking off.

Which is the only way I get off these days.

Now I know what people mean when they say going through a dry spell.

Although I suppose mine is self-inflicted.

“Maybe there are. How would I know? Because I’m not with you. I’m all the way back here in boring old Alaska, not gallivanting all over the world.”

“So how are things back home?” I ask, subtly hoping to entice him to tell me everything about Bambi and what she’s up to. His last update wasn’t very informative. Just a simple “Everyone’s doing fine. Nothing new.” Which was not helpful in the least.

“Oh, you know how spring is. Boats getting ready to go out, tourists showing back up little by little. Looks like we’re going to have an influx of moose this year, must have had a good mating season.

” He moves around wherever he is, the screen shifting as he moves before settling again when he sits.

“Oh shit, speaking of mating, Raelyn is pregnant.”

“What?!”

The world stops spinning and the tiny piece of my heart that managed to survive childhood because of Bambi, falls and shatters against my ribs.

I’ve only been gone six months. How the hell did she manage to find someone so fast and get knocked up?

He must be wrong, or I must have heard him wrong.

There’s no way my Bambi is pregnant… without me.

The words echo through my head in a quiet whisper.

Am I upset because she’s pregnant, or because she’s pregnant with someone else’s baby?

“Yeah, surprised the shit out of me too. Apparently, Izzy knew all along though.”

“Who’s the father?” I demand, interrupting whatever he was about to say. It can’t be more important than finding out what asshole took advantage of my Bambi. Because now I may have a reason to return to Alaska. To kill the bastard.

“Why? You gonna come home and beat him up like you did that guy in high school for touching your precious Bambi?”

Maybe.

He’s trying to provoke me, and he knows it. He also knows I hate when anyone but me calls her Bambi.

“Watch it, Owen.”

I can hear him laughing, but I don’t bother looking at him, facing the open ocean instead, trying to tamp down the possessive jealousy I’m unable to hide.

“No idea.” He shrugs and my eyes snap back to the small screen propped on a towel. “Says it was a one-night stand. Doesn’t even remember the guy’s name.”

“That doesn’t sound like Bambi.” Some of the frantic energy curdling my stomach settles.

She’s never been a one-night stand girl.

She’s always been the long-term solid commitment type.

Our short-lived tryst being the only time I’ve ever known her to sleep with someone without being in a solidified monogamous relationship.

For her to be so careless is out of character for her.

“No, it doesn’t. But she told me herself. No one knew about it till she started to show. Except my lying sister. Hid it under those baggy overalls of hers she’s always wearing.”

Wait. Hid it? This isn’t a new development? Did she find someone as soon as I left? I guess I shouldn’t blame her. I did tell them all I was never coming back except for Izzy’s wedding, which is now loosely planned for August this year.

“How far along is she?” I ask because apparently, I want to torture myself with knowing how quickly she moved on.

“Almost six months, I think. I guess it happened right after you left.”

Or right before. My unhelpful brain supplies. Because knowing she was with someone else isn’t bad enough, my inner sadist decides her having my baby and not telling me is better.

Could she be having my baby? We didn’t exactly use protection that I know of.

I assumed she was on the pill or something since she never mentioned it.

But she would have told me about the baby.

Wouldn’t she? I’ve been sending her postcards from every new place I’ve been to.

I haven’t had the courage to call her, but I had to let her know I was thinking about her somehow. I even wrote as much on the postcards.

It has to be mine. The timing lines up too perfectly. Even with how mad she was at me when I left, I know my Bambi. She would never hook up with a stranger, let alone have unprotected sex with one.

The sudden realization that she’s carrying my baby and I’m going to be a father hits me in a rush I wasn’t prepared for.

I fall back against the bench and stare off at nothing.

I can vaguely hear Owen talking, but I have no idea what he’s saying.

That is until I hear her name and the words, giant tits, in the same sentence.

“What did you just say?”

Owen grins at me and leans back holding his hands in front of his chest mimicking groping large breasts.

“Oh yeah, her boobs have gotten huge. I don’t know how I didn’t notice them before. Should have been an instant give away. Pregnant women always have the best knockers.”

“Say one more word about Bambi’s boobs and I’ll disown you and stop taking your calls.”

His face falls like a kicked puppy and he finally drops his hands from his chest. His head of blonde hair fills the screen as he leans in so close I can’t see anything else but his massive face.

“Aw come on man, I was just joking. Although they are massive.” He leans back and holds his hands up in defense before I can chastise him again. “Chill man, I’m just messing with you. What’s got you wound so tight? You used to be more fun.”

I rub a hand down my face trying to regain some sort of control over myself. I was already in a funky mood and learning about Bambi’s pregnanc y _ and that I’m most likely the father, even though no one else seems to know that little fac t _ isn’t helping improve it.

“I don’t know. Too much time at sea alone?”

“Then go to shore and find yourself a nice piece of ass and bring her back to your boat. Then you won’t be alone.”

I lift my head and pin him with a flat glare.

“Or not. Then come home if you’re so miserable.

You know this is where you belong anyway.

Also, I’m not sure I can manage all this estrogen on my own.

Izzy planning a wedding, Rae having a baby.

All they ever talk about now is color schemes, baby names, wedding dresses and birthing techniques.

” He shudders and shakes his head like he’s trying to shake away an unpleasant image.

“Baby names? She’s already picking out names? Does she know what she’s having?”

“A boy. Thank fuck. I don’t think I could survive adding another girl to our already female filled family.”

A boy. She… we are having a boy. I’m going to have a son.

I need to go back. As soon as the thought hits me, I realize now this is why I felt like I had to return.

Something inside me knew I would need to go home and that I should be near to do so.

If I had still been in Florida when he told me this, it would take me months to return and I might miss the birth.

But since I’m already on the west coast I can be back home in a week if I push myself and the winds are in my favor.

I end my call with Owen abruptly. I need to start moving now. The winds are good and there’s still hours of sunlight left. I’ll sail in the fucking dark if I have to.

It isn’t until days later when I’m so close to seeing her again that a stray thought makes its way into my mind. Not once since I spoke to Owen and decided to come home, did I consider my parents. Not once did their presence alter my plans to return to Homer.