Rose #2
Bryan is big, loud, and will undercharge a person every chance he gets. Trey is quieter, serious, and handles all the paperwork for the auto repair shop. Both are overprotective as hell, and I love them to death.
“They know I don’t mean it. How’s Ben liking the trip?”
“He’s having a great time.”
He hums. “That’s good to hear, honey. And you? You back to smilin’ again?”
I look down at my sneakers, tempted to lie but knowing I won’t about this.
My future is still up in the air. I was so sad to leave my parents, but I wanted them to be happy instead of spending all their time worrying about me.
Leaving was the right thing to do, at least then. But now? I’m not sure about any of it.
“I’m getting there, Dad.”
“That’s all I care about. That you're driving safely and taking plenty of breaks.”
I reflect on my morning sickness that caused us to pull off the road and stop in a tiny town where I met my scent match. What were the odds of that? A million to one? Ten million to one?
“I’m taking plenty of breaks from driving. We’re in Rios, this small town in Iowa.”
“Don’t remember that being on your map, honey,” he says mildly, though I detect the worry he’s trying to hide from me.
For two weeks, I pored over a map, stuck pins in it, and worked out exactly where we would stop along the way. And I promised my parents I would check in with them so they would know where we were. They probably memorized every place that Ben and I intended to stop.
“It was a spontaneous stop. It’s nice. Ben likes it too. He’s going to see a fire truck in the firehouse here and go to Lina, the diner waitress' son’s birthday party in a couple of days.”
“Then I’d say that boy is living his dream right about now. Fire trucks and cake…” He lets out a low whistle.
I laugh. “You should have seen him, Dad. His eyes were so big.”
We talk for a little longer about the small-town gossip I’m missing, and we say our goodbyes with a promise to speak again soon.
After hanging up, I stare out over the massive backyard where Win was teaching Ben cartwheels, the reason for his extended nap. We’re close to Main Street, but it’s so peaceful here that I’m not ready to go back inside and finish unpacking all of Ben’s things.
Guilt tunnels into me, sitting heavy in my belly. I didn’t tell my dad about the pregnancy or about meeting my scent match, and I should have. I absolutely should have.
So why didn’t you?
“Hey.”
I jump and whirl around.
Murph steps out onto the porch, the door closing quietly behind him as he approaches.
His dark hair is slightly damp, his feet are bare, and he’s in black jeans and a white t-shirt that emphasizes his pecs. That shirt is absolutely destroying my ability to focus.
I look away, hoping he didn’t catch me staring and missed the heat sweeping over my cheeks. “Hey.”
I listen to his footsteps as they draw closer, and I slow my breathing when he settles on the step beside me. Once again, I’m wrapped in spicy bay rum and cinnamon, and once again, I’m in a battle with myself not to rub against him.
I open my mouth to tell him I should go back inside, but “You shaved” comes out instead.
Idiot.
There’s a brief moment of silence, then his soft throat clearing. I dart a look toward him to find him rubbing his clean-shaven jaw. Unless I’m mistaken, there’s a hint of red on his cheeks.
“Yeah. Didn’t have time to do it before I had to go to Wyoming, and no time to do it there.”
I find myself missing how rough and sexy he looked with heavy stubble on his jaw. “Is the ranch usually busy, then?”
“Can be. I have two brothers, Rowan and Wes, but it’s a two-hundred-acre property. Sometimes they need all the help they can get.”
I move to get up. We’re close, our thighs almost touching, but the scent of his skin is intoxicating. “I should go inside.”
“You sound like you have a pretty great family,” he says, looking straight ahead. “I wasn’t trying to eavesdrop or anything. Couldn’t help but overhear the tail end when I was grabbing something to eat.”
I abandon fleeing inside for the moment, wondering where he’s going with this. “They’re pretty great.”
Nodding, he says casually, “Any reason you didn’t want to tell them you ran into your scent match?”
“Your attempt at casual is even worse than Lina’s,” I mutter.
He raises his brow. “What was Lina trying to be casual about?”
I hug my knees. “Staying in this house. I was throwing up at the diner bathroom yesterday afternoon when she had Joel watch Ben for me.”
A deep furrow forms between his eyes. “Shit. It was that bad even then?”
“Yeah, the morning part of morning sickness is a misnomer if there ever was one. She thought I should stay with Joel and Win until it eased a bit. That’s kind of how I came to be looking around upstairs when I ran into you.”
He gives me a slow, assessing look. His hand starts to lift, and just as soon as it does, he lowers it to his thigh. “Sorry. I keep wanting to touch. Do you need a doctor? I can take you.”
I’m still hung up on this need to touch. It’s like he reached into my head and plucked out the words I’ve been thinking since I first saw him, bolting down the stairs to escape my feelings.
I’m leaning into him now, and the space between us keeps decreasing. I want to be close. Touching. Snuggling. I want his arms around me like I need to breathe.
“Does this get less intense?” I whisper.
He drags a hand through his hair and lets out a sigh as frustrated as it is husky. “I have no idea, but I’m in a constant battle between pulling you into my arms and snuggling for hours or tying you to my bed and fucking you raw.”
I freeze.
He leans away as if concerned that I’ll bolt. “Sorry about that. I didn’t mean—”
“It’s okay,” I gently cut in, my cheeks burning and my pussy throbbing. “We’re both dealing with feelings too big to contain.”
He studies me for a beat. “What was he like?”
Every muscle in my body tightens. “I can’t talk about Simon with you.” My voice is distant and cold. I get up from the porch step and walk back inside, guilt eating me alive for wanting Murph as much as I do.