Chapter 7 #2
Pixie woke disoriented, on soft sheets, with a sense of security wrapped around her. For a single moment she thought she was back in her old life, at her small apartment—before she’d ever met Dylan Heddings.
Then the baby made a grumpy sound, bringing her back to the here and now.
The second awareness hit her. She reminded herself that she was safe. More importantly, Andy was safe. Tears gathered in her eyes, but good God, she’d done too much crying already. “Just a second, sweetie.” She hurried to the tiny bathroom. It was clean and fresh, without the mold she’d dealt with in the motel. The house was warm, and best of all, it was secure.
For the first time in what felt like forever, she’d slept soundly, comfortably. The meds had relieved her endless coughing and lowered her fever. This morning, she had a future she could almost imagine, instead of a nightmare she had to face.
Even Andy had slept longer than usual, but then, there hadn’t been noisy people in the hallway or in the parking lot of the motel constantly startling him awake.
In half a minute, she was back to Andy. She quickly changed his diaper and then crawled back into the soft bed, a plump pillow behind her back, so he could nurse. He was such a little glutton, and she knew she’d do anything for him. Anything .
Gently, she brushed her lips against the top of his head. She’d lost so much recently, most importantly her self-respect, but she had her baby, and he was a greater gift than anything she’d ever known. Compared to providing for his care and his safety, her self-respect meant nothing at all.
“Did you know people like these existed, Andy? I didn’t.” She drew a careful breath, trying not to cough, and concentrated on getting her emotions under control. “Now that I know, I swear to you, I’ll learn to be like them. I’ll get stronger and smarter, and I’ll get things figured out so that you can have the best life possible.” She said it aloud and sealed the promise in her heart.
Whatever it took, even if it meant more groveling, and working 24/7, she would create a better future for Andy.
Even as she made that vow, exhaustion had her yawning. It was her constant companion, weighing so heavily on her that at times, she’d felt she’d just fade away. As someone who had been healthy most of her life, she didn’t know how to deal with all this illness, except to keep trying.
For Andy.
So many people suggested she rest, as if that was a simple thing, but how could she? She’d botched most of her responsibilities, but she wouldn’t mess up loving her son. Until the day she died, she’d give him all the love and care she had.
When his little belly was full, she burped him and then snagged the laundry basket that was currently his bed. He wouldn’t be awake too long, probably no more than an hour, two at most, so she’d wait for her shower. Putting the laundry basket in the kitchen, but keeping Andy in her arms, she fixed a bowl of cold cereal.
How novel it felt to eat a favorite cereal, not in a grungy motel room but in this adorable little house, at a clean little table. It was so quiet, and the silence felt peaceful.
While she ate, she talked to Andy, snuggled him, blew raspberries on his little tummy, and kissed his tiny fingers and toes.
He was her precious little miracle, her reason for living. How amazing would it be if they could live forever in this house, beside a lake, near these wonderful people?
No, she had no illusions that it was possible, but it was a nice, if greedy, dream. The real plan, what she needed to focus on, was learning, surviving, and making things better for Andy. That was her goal.
And someday, somehow, she’d pay back this debt so she could like herself once again.
Outside, she heard birds coming awake with song, and when she walked to the window, she could see the most remarkable sunrise creeping over the lake.
“Nothing bad can happen here,” she whispered to Andy, praying it was true. “This time, finally, I made a good decision.”
* * *
Lazily, Marlow stirred awake . . . and realized her nose was against a hairy chest. Mmm, this was a delightful turn of events. When she quietly drew a deep breath, Cort’s scent filled her, sending a spiral of pleasure straight through to her heart.
Her movements woke Cort, and he stretched awake, too. Of course, he knew right off that he wasn’t at home in his own bed alone. She had a feeling that little would ever get past this quiet, astute Marine.
Golden brown eyes glanced down at her, and when he saw she was awake and staring back, he gave her a slow, sexy smile.
Who knew a Marine could be so dangerous just by waking up? “This is a better view than the sunrise—which I think we missed.”
“There will be more sunrises.” He tugged her up to rest on his chest, letting his hands settle on her behind. “Good morning, beautiful.”
How something—or rather, someone—so amazingly hard could also be so comfortable, she didn’t know. Not to be shallow, but Cort’s body was honed to perfection . . . and it thrilled her.
Normally, getting frisky first thing in the morning would have made her worry about morning breath and tangled hair, and she would have made a quick escape to the bathroom. But not now. Not with Cort.
Her eyes were opened to a whole new perspective on life. She planned to embrace every moment, all things big and small. Astounding how her viewpoint could alter so quickly, and because of the most unusual events.
After meeting Pixie, the proverbial “other woman,” and spending a sizzling night with Cort, she felt less like the scorned wife in the bizarre scenario and more like the lucky one who’d gotten away.
What if she’d had a baby with Dylan? What if she’d not discovered his betrayal and had gone on in blissful ignorance of his deceit?
Her gaze drifted over Cort’s broad chest, his hard shoulders and defined biceps, and then lingered on his Marine tattoo. Semper Fi . She’d looked it up, of course, because everything about Cort fascinated her. Semper Fidelis was Latin for always faithful .
“What are you thinking?” he asked, his voice a dark, quiet rumble.
Honestly, that voice was enough to make her melt, and she wasn’t a melting type of woman. Or rather, she hadn’t been. Now, with him? Seemed entirely possible.
The “what ifs” were piling up, but seriously, what if she’d never met this remarkable man who’d given her such a wonderful new perspective on pleasure?
She answered honestly. “At this point, I wouldn’t change a thing.”
“What do you mean?”
Snuggling in and relishing the way Cort’s arms came around her, she opened her recently guarded heart to him. “The cheating, the hurtful comments. Moving here.” She hesitated, but then decided she might as well explain. “Meeting you.”
Rather than making him withdraw, the statement had him holding her closer. “Glad to hear it.”
Hmm. It wasn’t exactly a reciprocal declaration, but she didn’t mind. Too much. Everything was so new to her, she didn’t mind relishing it alone for a while.
He nuzzled against her neck. “And how do you feel about Pixie?”
“She makes it easy for me to see how fortunate I am. I’m glad to be in Bramble, and in this position—”
“Naked against a man who wants you again?”
Happiness brought out a silly laugh. “Against you , Cort, and if that scares you, too bad.”
“I’m a Marine, baby,” he teased. “A gorgeous woman doesn’t scare me.”
Knowing her hair was sleep-tumbled, that she wasn’t wearing a speck of makeup, and she was far from beautiful, she smiled at him, and suddenly found herself on her back with him staring intently down at her.
As if he’d read her mind—something he did often—he asked, “How can you not know how gorgeous you are?” He tunneled his fingers into her messy hair, his chest lowered to hers, giving her all his delicious weight and hardness, and he kissed her in ways that, until last night, she had forgotten were possible. When he shifted to her throat, his hot mouth dampening her skin, he murmured, “Absolutely, incredibly gorgeous.”
With him, she could almost believe it.
It wasn’t until an hour later, utterly satisfied, that they headed down to the dock, each of them carrying a mug of coffee. The sun had already risen, scattering golden diamonds over the glimmering surface of the lake.
They’d both brought their phones with them, just in case Pixie had a problem.
Looking off to her right, Marlow studied the tiny lake house where, hopefully, Pixie was catching up on sleep.
Instead of sitting in the chair, they sat on the end of the dock again. Marlow’s toes dipped into the cold water, and she leaned against Cort’s shoulder. “Life can be so hard, and then so funny, and I think if we’re really paying attention, if we’re absorbing it instead of just drifting through it, we can learn so much. About ourselves, and about other people.”
“Philosophical,” he said. “Great sex does that to me, too.”
She snickered. “See? You lighten my mood so easily, not that I was in a dark mood right now. Actually, I haven’t been since I came here.” Again, she glanced toward the tiny house where Pixie stayed. “I hope Bramble has that same effect on her.”
“I think you will be the one who affects her, but yes, the town helps.”
She sipped her coffee, savoring the warmth of the morning air. “Will it be a problem for you? I mean, I’m here, and now Pixie, too.”
“With Andy.” He smiled. “Babies count on the census.”
“Ouch. So you’re basically harboring three people in a town that doesn’t like newcomers.”
He rested a hand on her thigh. “You’re all visitors, not permanent residents.”
Biting her lip, Marlow refrained from pointing out yet again that she hoped to become permanent. She’d pressured him enough already. The last thing she wanted was for him to suddenly get cold feet and stop seeing her.
She was enjoying him far, far too much for that.
No sooner did she have the thought than another followed. If things did abruptly end with Cort, she’d be okay. She’d already proven to herself that she had the fortitude and resilience to move forward when necessary.
She didn’t want it to happen. She was happy here, and for now at least, Cort made her happy, too. Deliriously happy. Or-gasmically happy, in fact, as she thought about his lovemaking.
Most of all, though, she made herself happy. There was a deep satisfaction in that realization.
She gulped another drink of coffee, set the mug aside, and stretched out on her back. The sun wasn’t yet high enough to blind her, but it felt nice and warm caressing her skin, and oh, that sky was a startling, beautiful shade of blue.
Because it was a new and interesting realization, she said aloud, “I’ve made myself happy. Not just content but seriously happy.” She turned her head to look at Cort. “Isn’t that remarkable?”
He, too, set aside his coffee. “We’re talking about Marlow Heddings, right? I’ve already seen you in action, so no, nothing surprises me where you’re concerned. I think you could move mountains if you really put your mind to it.”
Over and over again, he gave her the most outrageous—and wonderful—compliments. “Thank you, Cort.” And since he deserved to hear it, she said, “I think you’re pretty special, too.”
He suddenly had that sensual look in his eyes that meant he was about to stretch out over her, but then his phone buzzed. Only the slightest disappointment showed in his expression as he lifted a hip to get his cell from his pocket. “It’s Bren Crawford. He runs the boat rental.” With a swipe of his thumb, he answered the call.
Marlow stayed on her back, listening to the one-sided conversation but catching the fact that Bren apparently had a leaking pipe that needed immediate attention.
Cort said, “Just a sec, Bren,” and muffled the phone against his jean-covered thigh. “Do you mind? I know this was supposed to be our day, but it shouldn’t take me too long.”
“I don’t mind at all. Actually, I like that you’ll go to his rescue.”
Skeptical, Cort said, “It’s not a rescue, just a helping hand.”
“And you’re not a hero? Pfft. There’s a whole town here that would disagree.” Giving up her comfortable position on the dock, she came up on her elbows and said, “Seriously, I like that you care about your neighbors and aren’t afraid to pitch in when needed. Don’t worry about me. I’ll use the time to visit with Pixie. You can call when you’re done, and we’ll figure things out from there.”
Wearing a silly, slightly bemused smile, he brought the phone back to his ear and promised Bren he’d be there quickly.
Marlow went with him up to the house.
At the door, he paused to drape his arms around her. “After I repair Bren’s pipes, I’ll need to head to my place for a shower, shave, and change of clothes.” Nudging her closer, he asked, “Any chance I can convince you to join me for that?”
“Hmm, if this was a business deal, I’d insist that you make it worth my while.”
He teased, “Well, I could show you my house.”
She rested her hands on his chest. “And?”
Pretending to think about it, he said, “I’ll take you to lunch after.”
Marlow slid her hands to his neck and tugged his head down. “And in between that?”
“We should have enough privacy to do anything you want.”
“Deal.” Knowing he needed to go, she patted his shoulder and stepped back with a warning. “What I want might take a while, so don’t count on an early lunch.”
“I do love the way you negotiate.”
He gave her a firm but fast kiss, then jogged to his truck and quickly backed out of her driveway.
Ridiculous, but she already missed him.
Going back to the bedroom, Marlow smiled at the rumpled sheets and unmade bed. She, Marlow Heddings, had spent a wild night with a sexy hero, and she felt triumphant because of it, as if she’d conquered a mystery of life.
How to get over wounded feelings and lingering hurt in one mind-blowing encounter . Or maybe, How to downsize your life and upsize your pleasure .
In reality, she knew dealing with the turmoil of life wasn’t that easy and couldn’t be summarized in a catchy title. There were many puzzle pieces she was still fitting together to form an entire image, but she had the border in place, and she had a feel for where things were going.
Cort was definitely an unexpected bonus, but she was determined to finish the puzzle with or without him. And . . . her analogy was now stretching so thin, she almost laughed.
Reminding herself that this was her time, she briskly made the bed, pausing only once to press Cort’s pillow to her nose so she could breathe in his intoxicating scent one more time. It’d be nice if that scent lingered. She wouldn’t mind sleeping with it every night.
After her shower, a quick breakfast, and a minimum of prep, she decided it was late enough to call on Pixie. Rather than drive, she put on her tennis shoes and a floppy brimmed hat to shade her face and crossed the property on foot. The houses were spaced out enough that it was a nice walk.
When she reached the small lake house, she looked beyond it to Cort’s home. Bigger, with more land, it sat on a rise and, like the cottage and lake house, it would have phenomenal views of the water.
She went down a narrow gravel drive to the lake house. Before she could knock, the door opened and Pixie stood there, looking very uncertain in her bare feet, an oversized T-shirt, and pull-on shorts.
Her hair was now neatly brushed, and her eyes were still puffy from crying but currently clear of tears. She appeared better rested but remained far too frail.
Marlow smiled to put her at ease. “Good morning, Pixie.”
“Morning.” She shifted from one foot to the other. “Andy’s sleeping. I saw you coming and thought you might knock.”
“And that would wake him?”
“I’m not sure. This is a new place and all, and I only got him to sleep about ten minutes ago.”
Still smiling, Marlow asked, “May I come in?”
“Oh, yeah. Sure. I’m sorry.” Pixie stepped aside, watching her warily. “Um, is everything okay?”
“With me, yes. How about you? Were you able to sleep last night?”
“Oh, my gosh, yes ,” she said with enthusiasm. “I slept so well. Andy only woke up once, and after I fed and changed him, we both conked right back out again.” Still standing just inside the door, Pixie started thanking her. “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate this. I know Mr. Easton let me stay here because of you, and it’s so kind of you—”
“Let’s sit down for a few minutes, okay?” Somehow, she had to get Pixie to stop groveling. Being appreciative was fine, but Marlow wanted her to understand her own worth, too.
Face going hot, Pixie nodded. “Sure. Um . . .” She looked around. “Where do you want to sit?”
Marlow glanced around, too, then made a decision. “The kitchen is always a nice gathering place. Let’s sit there.”
“Okay.” Pixie hurried in that direction, her bare feet making little sound on the cold floor.
Marlow was pleased to see that she appeared steadier today. Clearly some food and rest had done her a world of good. She still looked worn, and with the shadows under her eyes there was no doubt she was under the weather. One night’s sleep wouldn’t be enough for her to recuperate, and that’s why Marlow was here.
The kitchen was small, but what caught Marlow’s attention was the roll of toilet paper on the counter. Pixie followed her gaze and a three-alarm fire lit up her fair skin, making her look feverish again.
She snatched the roll off the counter and put it behind her back. “I don’t have any tissues, and I was using it to cover my cough and—”
“I understand.” Marlow added, “We’ll be sure to get some tissues today. Until then, it’s nice to have that on hand.” She pulled out one of two chairs at a small table. “Let’s sit.”
Still mortified, Pixie sank into her seat.
Rather than keep her in suspense, Marlow said, “I’m all in on helping you. I haven’t changed my mind, so relax.”
Pixie started to speak, no doubt to express more gratitude, but Marlow didn’t give her the chance. She wanted the young woman to understand what would be expected of her, the scope of Marlow’s intrusion into Pixie’s life. Because she absolutely planned to intrude. In a big way.
There was no better time to explain than right now.