Chapter Eight

Dylan

 

If I had to fuck the anxiety out of my girl to give us peace, I took that job seriously.

I worked on her until she fell deep enough asleep to snore lightly, then used the bathroom and quietly left the bedroom to rehydrate. Certain muscles told me I wouldn’t need the gym this weekend, but I never regretted fatigue from sex.

That conversation in the truck got scary. I thought she was going to use some needing space line on me and get in her car, but she surprised me, thank God. We needed to settle this living arrangement question pronto or we’d keep having these fights, and I didn’t want one of those hypotheticals to be final. She loved the mountain and I loved her, so was it on me to compromise here? A writer can write anywhere…except when they can’t.

Maybe that was part of her clinging to her cabin—she’d written all of her novels in that building at the same table in the same spot.

Nah, there was more. The days I’d stayed with her up there, it was clear she knew her neighbors and town and they knew her, which made sense when her ex left her alone a lot.

Alone in the house…

I was an idiot.

If I moved Jen someplace new, then was gone on tour, she’d be alone in the completely unfamiliar either pregnant or with a new baby. Alone with none of what she knew or what made her feel secure. She wouldn’t feel great with it, anyway, but the baby put a new angle on it.

Okay.

Decision made.

I walked back into the bedroom, crawled onto the bed, and rubbed her back.

A brief moan, then a longer one. As she roused, I moved my hand down to dig into the low-back spot she frequently complained about having a knot, and received a groan of pleasure.

“I love your hands,” she muttered into the pillow.

“I have a proposition for you.”

“Unh, vagina’s closed right now.”

I chuckled. “Not that.” I rolled her toward me so I could see her face. “About our future. We can live in Big Bear if you marry me soon.”

She rubbed her sleepy eyes. “I thought there were no ultimatums.”

“It’s not. There’s no implied threat. This is an exchange.”

“I need caffeine for this.”

I kissed her pout. “Think about it. You love the mountain. I’ll have to go on tour eventually. You’ll be in a place you feel comfortable.”

“And you want to marry me before you go.”

“I want to marry you as soon as possible.”

She patted my nearest hand. “I appreciate you thinking of a compromise.”

My brow furrowed. “It sounds like there’s a but there.”

She sighed. “The baby complicates things. I can shovel snow now when I’m barely in the third month, but once I’m showing?”

I shook my head. “The earliest show is April for the pre-orders and not that far away.”

“You know the snow sometimes lasts into May.”

Fuck, I was losing this proposition. “Who is not going to help a pregnant lady with her driveway?”

“I’m due in June, and you’re going to be away?”

Shit. “No. They set the dates before, but now we have a complication, I’ll only do the shows where I’m gone no longer than overnight…and nothing in your final month.”

She frowned. “Bob’s going to love that.”

“Bob isn’t my boss.” I stroked a sweaty strand off her forehead. “I keep telling you, you two come first, just like Jake put Beth before the band two years ago.”

She blinked and I realized it was against tears. “Stop being wonderful. I suck.”

“Aw, honey.” I gathered her in my arms. Suppose I better get used to a crying woman.

She sniffed her emotions under control. “I know we need to make decisions. Everyone will want to know what we’re doing.” She pulled away. “I can’t keep avoiding my mom.”

“Okay…”

“Tonight. Rid the Band-aid off.” Jen scooted out from under the covers and walked toward the bathroom.

Such a pretty ass. “Want me to come with you?”

The shower turned on. “Maybe? I don’t know which way’s better for this convo.”

I got up to join her. She was testing the water temp.

“No—”

My hands went up. “No shower sex delay. There’s only so much hot water.”

“Behave.” With the water hot, she stepped under the spray.

Damn, it wasn’t easy to control my arousal at seeing her naked and wet, but she needed a good boy right now. Didn’t mean I couldn’t still pamper her a bit, though.

She sighed at the feel of my fingers on her scalp. Saved time if I helped with her hair, right? And it kept me from running my hands all over her soapy curves.

She turned her back to the showerhead to rinse the shampoo. “Don’t ever stop being good to me.” Her vulnerability twisted my gut.

“I can’t. It’s not in my nature.”

While she ran conditioner through her locks, I washed myself with my back to her. We’d never showered together without sex or at least orgasms, but I was determined to keep my word so she could get to her mom’s.

I liked Mrs. Wright. She’d had Jen in her twenties, but you couldn’t tell which part of that decade due to her vibrancy. I met her at a very crowded New Year’s Eve party, along with Jen’s little sister, Shelley. She was fifteen years younger than my fiancée, giving me a glimpse of my girl as a teen, and nothing snuck by her. Their mother hearing the baby news this morning was almost definitely due to the kid.

I stepped under the spray to rinse.

Jen pinched my ass.

“Hey.”

Her eyes were big and childlike. “What? That’s not sex.”

“No, but it could be considered foreplay.”

She shrugged. “No time to find out.”

I shook my head and left the stall before I broke my promise. Toweled off, then wrapped it around my waist. The mirror showed stubble on my face since I hadn’t shaved since yesterday morning. If she did take me with her, it was better to not look scruffy.

The water shut off. Wrapped in another towel, Jen came over to the second sink with her comb. She cocked her head at the electric razor in my hand. “I’m still not used to you without a beard.”

I let hair grow every time the band was on hiatus. Helped me blend into normal society.

“It takes me a minute to adjust, too.”

She tested the smoothness of my cheek. “But you clean up well.”

“Careful, Miss Donovan…”

She grinned. I winked. And some of the tension of the past twenty-four hours eased in my chest. If she felt good, my world was right. Yeah, the fighting had hurt me, but I didn’t like to see her angst, either. Didn’t know how much was hormones and how much was her worries. I just knew if my girl was upset, I needed to try to fix it.

Because proposing hadn’t been spur-of-the-moment romanticism. Jen was mine.

Bathroom time took longer for her. I left her drying her hair to grab fresh clothes from the closet. A button-down shirt? Nah, too obvious. A cool wind had started up by the time we left the restaurant, so I picked a comfortable sweater. Jeans. Boots? Sneakers?

She came to her drawer and plucked out a pair of panties. “How do you make a cable-knit sweater hot?”

I did a little model turn. She laughed. “You’re good for my ego, too, you know.”

“When I think you can handle it.” It was good to see the spark back in her eyes.

“Good shower?”

“Yeah.” Wearing a smile, she left the closet. I heard the towel drop on the floor.

To the point of resisting temptation, I put on shoes to give her time to be less naked, then left the bathroom to see her putting on the same sweater and jeans. She’d only worn them to breakfast, and my girl was practical. Her hair had been braided.

“So…company or no company?”

“I…shit, why am I so indecisive all of a sudden?” She cast her green eyes to me. “Can you come and wait in the car?”

I nodded, smiling reassuringly. “Sure.”

“Okay.” Her next steps were taken with purpose and my smile grew. She grabbed her purse and jacket and we left the apartment.