Chapter 15
Fifteen
Dan
“Looking good.”
Thomas hands back my phone.
I’d taken a few pictures of the progress at the house so he could see. Once I have water and electricity up and going, I’ll have to take him over to watch a sunset with me.
That’s one thing I’m definitely going to miss about living here, sharing an after-dinner drink on the porch with the old man.
It’s a habit we got into after Mom passed away. After years of looking after my mother, suddenly the nights became lonely. One night I was wandering around the ranch, looking for something to do, rather than spending another evening in deafening silence, when Thomas called me over. He’d been watching me, sitting on the porch, smoking his clandestine cigar and sipping his daily glass of whiskey.
I joined him that night, listening to his stories about growing up in Texas, meeting his deceased wife, Mary, and dating back to his own ranching days. I returned the next night, and the one after that, slowly getting pulled into the fabric of his family after losing mine.
He’s also the person I turned to when, out of the blue, this guy David Zimmerman showed up claiming to be my biological father. Then again, a couple of years ago, when I found out I had a half sister living in Durango, Colorado.
Discovering a father and sister I didn’t know I had took a bit of getting used to. I’d been feeling pretty pissed with my mom at first but Thomas talked me through that as well.
These days I’m in regular contact with both. I don’t see Lindsey—my sister—as much as I’d like to. She’s married with two little ones and her husband is the president of a motorcycle club that owns several businesses in town, so it isn’t that easy for them to get away. I’ve been to see her once, but I’m probably due for another trip out there at some point.
When my father learned of my existence after Mom died, he actually moved to Kalispell, so he and I catch up fairly regularly. He actually may get a kick out of these progress pictures; I should probably send him a couple.
“When are your windows coming?” Thomas asks.
“Tuesday. He was supposed to be here tomorrow, but something came up. Won’t really set us back though. We only got the primary bedroom, closet, and bathroom done today. That was a lot more work than I thought. The one-day delay on the windows means I can focus on the other rooms upstairs I haven’t even touched yet.”
“Boys coming out to help again?”
Most of the guys were over at the house helping at some point this weekend. Even Jonas showed up yesterday afternoon, but he left to head back to Fort Harrison this morning. Apparently, Jackson is going to be released tomorrow and Alex and Jonas are bringing him back here.
“JD and James.”
“Good.” He holds up his hands, gnarled with arthritis. “If not for these useless paws, I’d be over there in a heartbeat, giving you a hand. Been known to build a thing or two in my day.”
I suppress a grin. Ninety-two-years old, he can barely lift his tumbler of whiskey, so I can’t really see him wielding a hammer, but I have no problem believing there wasn’t much he couldn’t do at one point in time.
“I’m surprised she’s back already,” he mumbles under his breath.
I turn to see what he’s talking about, when I catch sight of Sloane’s dark red Jeep coming up the driveway and turning toward the cabins. I haven’t seen her since Friday, but I know she was supposed to move into the cabin today. Her Jeep wasn’t here when I got back from the house.
“Wasn’t she picking up her mom?”
Thomas glances at his watch. “Yeah, but her plane was supposed to land at seven ten. It’s seven forty-five now. It’s an hour-and-a-half drive.”
Good point.
I push up to my feet. “I’m just gonna go…check.”
“You do that,” he calls after me, snickering.
I catch her just as she lifts Aspen’s seat out of the car.
“I can take her.”
I’m already reaching for the baby seat when Sloane’s head swings around at the sound of my voice.
“Jesus, you startled me.”
But she lets me take charge of Aspen, who looks to be fast asleep.
“Where’s your mother?” I ask as I follow her to her front door.
“Ugh,” she groans as she steps inside. “She’s stuck in Denver for the night. She’d boarded her flight to Kalispell, but apparently there was an issue with the plane. They were sitting on the tarmac for over an hour before they were told to get off the plane. Anyway, the flight was cancelled and they put her on another one tomorrow.”
“Oh no,” I commiserate, setting the car seat on the couch, as Sloane dumps her keys and the diaper bag on the small kitchen island.
“Yeah, it sucked. I didn’t get her message until I stopped for gas just outside Kalispell, and I turned right back around.”
“Luckily after a weekend of keeping me awake and on my toes, Aspen decided to finally sleep. She was out the whole time.”
She moves to the baby and, with gentle hands, peels her out of the seat.
“I’m just going to put her down.”
I feel a little awkward standing in the middle of her living room. It’s eight o’clock at night and it sounds like she hasn’t had much sleep this weekend, so making a pot of coffee is probably not a good idea. A beer or a glass of wine might be a better option.
Peeking into her fridge I notice it’s full of all the necessities—Ama’s handiwork, I’m sure—but other than milk and bottled water, there isn’t anything to drink. My fridge is only two doors down though, and it’s well-stocked with beer.
“Are you leaving?”
I let go of the door and turn around. It could be my imagination, but she actually looks a bit disappointed.
“I was just going to grab us a couple of beers from my fridge.”
“Ohh, I would kill for a beer.”
I grin at her. “No need to resort to violence. Give me one minute.”
When I return a few moments later, Sloane is standing in the kitchen, leaning on the counter with her head hanging down. From the bedroom I hear the baby’s soft cries.
Walking up behind her, I set down the beers and lift my hands to her shoulders, massaging them gently. Next thing I know, she spins around, burying her hands and her face in my shirt. Circling her with my arms, I pull her in tight. Her body shudders as she cries silently, drowned out by her daughter’s increasing complaints.
“I need t…to get her.”
Pressing a kiss to the top of her head, I gently set her back.
“I’ve got it. You sit down and have your beer.”
She must be at the end of her rope, because this is not like her. Tears rolling unchecked down her face, she looks worn to a thread. I bend down and kiss her wet cheek.
“Go on, sit down.”
Then I head for the bedroom where Aspen is now wailing in earnest. I duck in and close the door behind me.
“Hey, you…what’s with all the ruckus?” I babble as I walk up to her crib.
Her face is scrunched up and she’s trying hard to shove her little fist into her wide-open mouth. I pick her up and lift her against my shoulder, holding her with a hand under her little butt. A very wet butt.
I spot a towel on the dresser I spread on the bed, and when I check the top drawer, I find a bunch of baby clothes and diapers. I pull out something that looks similar to what she’s wearing and a clean diaper. Then I lay her on the towel and quickly strip her down.
As soon as I remove her wet diaper, the wailing eases up, and the next moment she’s trying to stuff her foot in her mouth. Undressing her turns out to be far easier than trying to get a diaper and clothes back on her. I’m sure the snaps on her pj’s aren’t exactly lined up, but she doesn’t seem to care.
She’s not crying when I pick her up again. In fact, she appears to be quite happy in my arms, listening to me hum. I briefly contemplate taking her out to her mom, but then I see her eyes growing heavy, so I start rocking her instead.
I’m hoping to win myself some major brownie points if I can get her to sleep again.
Sloane
Nothing has gone as planned this weekend.
Not a single thing, not even Dan showing up at the end of it all.
To start with, I did more work than I’d planned to, thanks to Pippa stepping in on Saturday and taking care of Aspen. She didn’t sleep much again that night.
I wasn’t able to get a hold of the sheriff until this morning, so I took my daughter and drove into town to meet up with him at the office. I was able to show him what I found on the videotapes, and told him about my conversation with Chelsea. Of course, Aspen decided to start crying, making conversation really difficult.
Junior indicated it was probably time for him to get in touch with Sheriff Lee, as well as the Columbia Falls Police Department, to coordinate efforts now that we’ve been able to confirm these two cases definitely appear to be related. He also suggested I look into other missing persons cases that could fit similar parameters tomorrow.
Then I had to run back to Sully and Pippa’s to move my things into the cabin, only to find my uncle had already moved everything. A good thing, since all I had time for was putting a few things away in the new digs before I left to pick Mom up at the airport. Clearly, we know how that turned out.
My plan had been to go home, put Aspen down, and roll into bed myself—I need the sleep—but instead I end up having a meltdown in Dan’s arms.
I guess there’s worse things.
“I heard you singing to her,” I share when I hear him come out of the bedroom.
“Me? Singing? You’re hallucinating.”
He plops down on the couch beside where I’m sitting with my legs folded under me, and twists the top off the beer I left for him on the coffee table. He puts the bottle to his mouth, but I can see a smile crinkle the corners of his eyes.
“I’m pretty sure,” I insist. “I could swear I heard you sing, Ain’t No Sunshine, in there.”
He puts his bottle down and rolls his head to the side so he’s looking at me, a grin on his lips.
“Cowboys don’t sing.”
It could be those dark eyes, dancing with humor and a hint of heat, or maybe it’s sheer gratitude that has me climb right on his lap. Straddling him, I slide a hand on either side of his face and tilt his head back.
“I’ll have you know I have excellent hearing,” I whisper, my nose touching his.
“Yeah?”
His voice is growly as his fingers dig into my hip. Then he hooks me around the neck with his other hand and pulls me down to his lips.
I may have made the first move this time, but there’s absolutely no question who’s kissing who. It’s all I can do to keep up with the sensations his mouth and tongue are stirring up.
My body—aside from childbirth, mostly dormant this past year—wakes up under his touch. It’s like the pins and needles of fingers and toes defrosting, except it’s every single nerve ending coming alive. Pain and pleasure are only a hairbreadth apart.
His hand slides down the back of my pants, squeezing one of my generous ass cheeks before slipping between my legs. He finds me already wet and without preamble fills me with his fingers. My entire body convulses around the intrusion. I let my head fall back as my hands curl into the longer hair at his collar.
“Okay?” he rumbles, his lips sliding down my neck.
“Mmmm,” is the best I can manage as I rock myself on his fingers.
“Fuck, Sloane, I want inside you so bad, but I don’t wanna?—”
So, I grab his face with both hands, kiss him hard, and look him in the eyes.
“Yes. I want that too.”
I’m not sure if I’m going to regret this tomorrow, but there’s no way I want to stop now.
Apparently, I’m not the only one who feels that way because suddenly Dan surges to his feet, his hands under my ass. I wrap my legs around him as he carries me into the spare bedroom where he tosses me onto the bed. For a second, I watch as he kicks off his boots, but when he starts stripping off his shirt, my hands get busy getting naked as well, tackling my own top.
My heart is bouncing around my chest wildly, and I’m almost hyperventilating when Dan shoves his jeans down his legs and kicks them off. I’d seen and admired his chest, but the rest of him is equally impressive. He doesn’t give me much of a chance to ogle him, when he puts a knee on the mattress.
“You’re running behind,” he grumbles, grabbing the waistband of the pants I was about to remove, and stripping them right off me, underwear and all.
Then he sits back on his knees between my legs, his hands loosely around each of my ankles. He looks his fill, to the point I get a little uneasy and automatically cover my mommy-pouch. My body changed a lot during my pregnancy with Aspen. It never bothered me, but I find myself suddenly aware.
Until he mumbles, “Jesus, you’re so gorgeous I don’t even know where to start.”
“Inside me,” I suggest, dropping my legs open.
“Fuck me. Hold that thought.”
He reaches over the edge of the bed and comes up with a wallet he likely fished from his jeans. From it, he produces a foil packet.
“Aren’t you the Boy Scout,” I tease him, mostly to keep from whimpering at the sight of him rolling on the condom.
He puts his hands back on my ankles and slides them all the way up my body, mapping my curves. Then he braces himself on either side of me and leans down, closing his mouth on a nipple. I can feel the pull of his hot mouth all the way down to my pussy.
Slowly he lowers his hips in the cradle of mine, and I feel the crown of his cock brush me, as he makes room for himself. Then he moves my arms above my head and holds them pinned there.
“Wrap your legs around me, and hold on. This’ll be fast and furious,” he grumbles.
The next moment he steals all my air as he aims true and fills my body.
“You gotta breathe, baby,” he reminds me.
I take in a deep breath, and—as if he was waiting for my cue—Dan starts moving. As promised, it’s fast, and it’s furious. His strong legs power him deeper than I thought possible.
My senses are overwhelmed in so many ways as my body is driven to new levels of pleasure. I am not in command of anything, and it feels amazing.
Dan starts to grunt with the effort to hang on to control as his rhythm begins to falter. I can feel the tension vibrate in his muscles, even as my legs begin to tremble.
“That’s it. Come for me, baby.”
It’s not an easy slide into bliss, this is like being hurled off a precipice. I don’t recognize the sounds coming from me as my body flies apart.
I barely notice Dan planting his cock deep, and shoving his face in my neck to stifle a yell when he comes. All I can do is try to breathe, my body limp and boneless as he covers it with his. I welcome his weight, it’s secure, otherwise I’m afraid I might float away.
I moan my displeasure when he eventually moves, but all he does is roll us, so he’s on his back and I’m half draped over him.
I feel his lips brush my forehead.
“Rest,” he whispers.