15. Carter
15
CARTER
I shake Betsy’s hand, the woman who owns the dry cleaner. I’ve just finished hearing her talk about her worries that we still have parking meters on the street, even though they are no longer in use. They confuse people, she says, and I have to agree. I can now add that as a campaign issue.
However, as I let her hand go to move on to the next person on this busy occasion in Everhope, I can’t help but notice that Rosie’s dad is standing across the square where Christmas tree lights were just lit. He’s been staring at me with a fierce look for a few minutes.
“Uh, Rosie,” I interrupt her saying hi to someone, as she’s stayed close to me for the last thirty minutes.
“Yes, Future Mayor?” She’s been in a good mood all day and for the last few weeks, with an added dose of bubbliness.
“Why is your father not exactly in a festive spirit?”
She interlinks our arms covered in thick coats, with the cold air hitting our noses. “Because he is still a little pissed that we didn’t join them at Olive Owl yesterday for Thanksgiving.” There is zero concern in her voice.
We opted to skip her family dinner because it’s a chaotic mess with way too many people, plus two dogs. The chickens can get a little vicious, too. Her aunts drinking family wine? Things get crazy.
Instead, we opted for a quieter day at my brother’s with just a few friends. We were there for a few hours then went straight home for sleep.
I thought inviting Brooke and Grayson for cider on the square was a good idea.
“Okay, but do we need to spike his cider or something? He seems a little tense.”
She swats my arm. “Relax. He’s messing with you.” To prove her point, she drags me with her to her parents. Her mom is all smiles and enjoying a piece of pie from the stall nearby, and her father finally breaks and offers a faint smirk.
“How is it going? I know the cider isn’t the same as at Olive Owl, but it’s close enough.” Rosie gets our conversation moving.
“It’s fine. There’s a hot hockey player serving it for charity. Apparently, he came over from the Lake Spark Spinners,” Brooke casually mentions, and Grayson gives his wife an odd look.
“Mom. You cougar, you.” Rosie is joking around.
“That’s your mom. Breaking hearts in her prime.” He kisses Brooke’s cheek.
It’s all a little too cutesy for me, but it is the festive season.
“How’s the campaign going?” Grayson asks.
Now I have to chuckle. “Easy. Not much to challenge, as Pete Smythe only hands out cookies. It’s my parents who take this way more seriously than me. I let them do it because they’re retired and need some entertainment.”
Rosie touches my chest affectionately. “Carter is going to ensure we have a new bench right over there.” She points down the street.
“Someone knows what to do with power,” her father jokes.
Her mom touches Rosie’s stomach. “We’re getting closer. Have you thought more about your birth plan?”
“I’ve just been doing my yoga to ensure I stay flexible, and my breathing is strong. I will skip all of those baby classes. I want natural, with candles and music. Maybe in a bathtub. I’ll be sure to drink a lot of raspberry tea the weeks before. I should probably make my oil blend to put on my pulse points.” Rosie lists everything as if it’s a shopping list for the store.
Grayson and I share a look because we have no clue what Rosie just rattled off, but it’s definitely her and all of her quirks.
I hug her from the side. “I’ll just show up.”
“Good plan,” Grayson concurs.
“I’m excited for the baby shower, even if due to a certain mother, we’ve had to move the party to your friend’s.” Brooke shoots me her disapproval.
I hold my hands up in surrender. “What? She might be my mom, but it doesn’t mean I can control her.”
“Fine. But please warn your mother dearest that I’m handling the desserts. She doesn’t seem to grasp that.”
Rosie and I just look at one another and try not to laugh.
“Enough of that. How are you two doing?” Grayson asks.
Rosie plays with her mitten. “You know…” Her voice squeaks. “It goes. Oh my goodness, is there fresh popcorn over there? And Gracie is here. We need to go say hi.” She quickly detours the conversation before she rushes off, dragging her mother with her.
That’s an unfair move because now I’m stuck with Grayson alone. I smile warily at him.
“Oh, look at that. You and me.” He seems pleased with this.
“So it seems.” I’m sensing a man-to-man conversation coming my way.
He crosses his arms. “Carter, soon you’re going to be a father. Rosie is my firstborn. She came into my life when I wasn’t expecting it, a bright light bringing Brooke and me even closer after years apart. I’ve been in your shoes. The difference is that you two were married, and Rosie is a free spirit who needs re-assurance and follows her own path until she finds the end. You realize that, right?” His tone is fragile because he’s talking about his daughter.
“Grayson, that’s why I’m being patient. Throwing her over my shoulder and insisting we get married again because we’re going to be parents isn’t the way to do it. I’m not going to force her hand in marriage.”
“You’re right. You should only marry if it’s something right. Still…” He lifts a shoulder. “I would be lying if I said that I don’t want to see you both as husband and wife again.”
I bite inside my cheek, trying to prevent the slip of my lips to display how this is a serious moment, but so help me, I want to grin. “Is this when you tell me that I have your approval?”
“Well, you sure as hell didn’t ask me last time. But yeah, it’s something like that.”
“Thanks, but I already married her once without your approval, so I’m good.”
He grimaces at me, maybe half appreciative of that comment.
With Brooke and Rosie appearing again, Grayson and I give one another a nod in understanding.
“What were you two talking about?” Rosie is curious, and her eyes skate between her father and me with a bag of popcorn in her hand.
“Oh, nothing,” he lies. “Just wondering if he needed help with the baby’s room. Painting or something like that. Your uncles are making a crib for you. I was wondering what color, but Carter wouldn’t budge on the boy-girl issue.”
Rosie smiles proudly to all of us. “He’s keeping to his word and not giving a peep of a clue.”
That I am.
I wrap my arm around Rosie’s shoulders and side-hug her. “I’ll let you guys have a bit of time together. My dad is somewhere around here.” I flash a smile at Brooke. “My mom went to see a friend up in Chicago for the weekend to shop.”
The battle of the moms war runs strong, even though they do get along… I think.
“Oh goody,” she replies dryly.
Rosie just rolls her eyes before I walk back into the crowd that are all gathered around the Christmas tree that just appeared today.
My friends are here somewhere, but it will only be a quick hello. People stop me for small talk which makes my search for my dad become a trudge through the crowd. Finally, fifteen minutes later, my father waves to me up ahead, trying to grab my attention, and I indicate with my hand that I see him. When I arrive next to him, I hear the tail end of a conversation that he’s having with one of his old business associates, with my dad enthusiastic as he speaks.
“Obviously, the next step is Congress. Carter has the congressional district, as he was sheriff over in Lake Spark for a while. Everybody knows him. I’m not sure why he doesn’t just skip being mayor.”
John Doyle smiles at me and shakes my hand. He attends my parents’ holiday party every year. “I’ve got to agree with your father. You’re well known around the area. I don’t know anyone who has a negative thing to say about you. Even Pete struggles to come up with an attack. He’s only mentioned that you and your ex-wife don’t have your relationship in order. But nobody around here cares about that stuff.”
My dad points his finger up. “In Congress they might.”
John scoffs it off. “And? We’ll just make sure that Carter has a strong campaign team and donors.”
I’m not sure they even realize that I’m still here or that they’re plotting my future together.
“Would you like me to add to this conversation or are you two all good?”
My father slaps a hand on my shoulder. “Sorry, Son, we’re getting carried away.”
“Ya think?” I comment flatly.
“Carter, this time next year you will have your new title as mayor, and the deputy sheriff will get his promotion which will make him happy. All things fall into place,” John adds.
I rub my face and realize that my gloves are still stuffed in my coat pockets, and it connects that I haven’t thought about my fingers freezing because every male here has decided to voice their opinions to me.
“Congress. I’ll consider it when I’m in office, okay? It’s still a few years away.”
“Unless you resign as mayor to run for Congress or even Senate.” My father continues to voice his strategy, and I’m getting a headache.
Pete Smythe, my opponent, steps into our circle, interrupting our conversation. “That would mean he would need to travel to Springfield even more, and D.C., too. Not exactly ideal for a young family. Now, is it?”
The guy has the farmers’ vote, though sadly for him, that’s not enough backing. Doesn’t matter, I’ll still ensure they have the town’s support.
“Thank you for your concern.” I smile tightly.
“I’m sure my daughter-in-law is up to the challenge of being a politician’s wife.” My father has no qualms to show his confidence, and I don’t have the energy to remind him that Rosie is still my ex-wife.
John squeezes my arm. “Your father is right.” His tone sings.
I throw my hands in the air. “Can we focus on the festive season? There are gingerbread cookies somewhere or a candy cane, perhaps. Maybe Santa would like to listen about my wish list of getting out of this conversation.”
The men chuckle around me.
“Always a joker, this one.” My father grins to himself.
A deep breath doesn’t seem to give them a clue that the discussion is closed, but luckily, Rosie slowly walking into our circle is the cure.
“Evening, gentlemen.” Her smile thins.
They all greet her, but before anybody can drag her into this, I speak. “You must be tired. We should go home. It’s been a long day, and you need your rest.” I touch her arm, eager for my escape opportunity. “Bye, everyone. I’ll call you this weekend, Dad.” I string the sentence together and don’t even wait for a response.
Rosie watches me strangely when we are far enough away, and a long audible exhale bursts out of me.
“Wow. I seemed to walk in at the wrong time.”
I shake my head and drag my hand across my face. “No. Perfect timing. Where are your parents?”
“They went home. We’ll see them soon. Can we go back to the house? I am a little tired.”
“Yeah, sure, are you okay?” I touch her shoulder, concerned, and study her. She seems different, but I can’t pinpoint it. Her scarf is in place, and her cheeks have the same shade of pink she had before due to the cold. Her beanie over her long hair is still perfectly set.
“Totally. It’s just cold.” She’s lying, I can tell.
But I let her lead the way.
* * *
Even though it’s a five-minute drive home, Rosie’s subdued mood doesn’t go unnoticed. Something is off, and when we’re inside and she tosses her hat into the basket next to the coats that we just hung, then I’m positive she’s in a mood.
She even ignores me when she begins to march to the stairs, until I stop her by grabbing her arm.
“Talk to me.”
She heaves a sigh. “Is it true? That you want to run for Congress, Senate, God knows what else? I thought it’s just mayor.”
“It is.”
“But would you want to one day be more?”
I shrug and wonder where the hell we’re going with this conversation. “I can’t say.”
“Well, your father seems to think so, and he also seems to think that I’ll be a good politician’s wife. I won’t. I’m… a little eccentric.” She flutters her eyes and lines form on her face.
A smirk begins to play on my lips. “Is that what has you bothered?” I gently walk her off the step and wind her into my arms. “I assure you that we shouldn’t listen to my father’s fantasies. I mean, maybe one day he’s right, but for now, I’m okay right where I am.”
She pouts and peers down at her belly that’s growing by the day, it seems. “Still, I’m just not ready to sign up to be that kind of politician’s wife. Mayor duties where you pet the state-winning cow is more me, you know.”
Nibbling my bottom lip, I love that I’m about to point out the obvious. “You know you keep saying wife.”
Her eyes pop out, and her gaze rockets up to me. “I didn’t.”
“You did.”
“You’re mistaken.” She attempts to hold a weak self-assured smile.
“Hmm.” My head bobs. “I think you did.”
She grows flustered, and her jaw slides side to side as her hands pump fists. “If I did, it’s your fault.”
I step back, astonished and amused. “My fault? How?”
“You’re the one who has rings upstairs. It just confused my brain for a second.”
“Really? Is this the part where I’m supposed to forget your little slip-up?”
She growls and pushes me out of the way, beelining it to the living room where she paces back and forth in front of the fireplace. “Carter, I have pregnancy brain. I forget things. It’s a side effect, you know.”
I flop onto the sofa to enjoy the view of her little meltdown. “You said it more than once.” Now I’m just egging her on.
She grabs a cushion then throws it at me, and I dodge it. “Maybe. Fine…” she drawls, giving up. “I said wife. It’s a figure of speech. Most definitely not because I once had that title or one day I’ll have it again.” Her hand flies to mouth, too late to catch her sentence.
Refraining from allowing her to mull over her confession for too long, I hold out my arms, inviting her to join me on the sofa. To my surprise, she joins me, defeated.
I would have her lie on top of me, but that baby bump is a little obstacle. Instead, I rub her back when she sits next to me. My cheeks rise from the smirk of satisfaction that I’m attempting to tamp down.
“It’s okay. Obviously, it’s on your mind, even if you don’t want to admit it. I’m not going to go grab the rings. We don’t need to rush,” I promise with a struggle.
She side-eyes me before returning to staring down at her belly. “Fine. I confess that it floats into my mind. It’s crazy because we should be going slow, but that speed doesn’t feel right.”
I kiss the top of her head that has a faint hint of the smell of burning wood from the bonfire in town. “Want to know a secret?” I whisper against her forehead.
“Surprise me.”
“I think about it almost every hour.”
Her head reangles as she studies me. “Being remarried isn’t the end all. We’ve circled back to one another and the baby is a bonus. But being remarried doesn’t need to be the sign that we’re okay again.”
I run my thumb down her arm. “You just let it slip a minute ago what your subconscious is thinking, though,” I highlight.
She can’t challenge me and nibbles her bottom lip, and her eyes appear to gleam with joy. “What do we do now?” She wants me to give her the answer.
For a woman who is independent and spirited, when she wants me to provide answers and guide our way, it feels it’s because I have years on her to make me smarter.
It’s not true. I’m just in love with this woman and will do anything to make her happy and ensure she is in my arms. I made one misstep when I signed those papers, and fuck, I won’t make another mistake.
Her entire body melts into me, and she sniffles, a tear emerging from her eye. “I was being so silly thinking that you only wanted to be with me because of your political career.”
“Rosie. You’re under this roof and with me not because of career or our baby. It’s because I love you and never stopped.”
Her crying is bearable only because she’s grasping what she needs to hear and has been obvious all along but never said out loud.
She swipes away a tear with the back of her hand, and my thumb stops a drop on her other cheek.
“I never stopped loving you either. Maybe that’s why I wonder if we should have space. I don’t want to hurt you again.”
I shift on the couch to catch her sight and trap her hands between my own. “If you dare do that then I’ll lose my mind, and I won’t let you pack a single suitcase. I’ll even throw them out.”
She sniffles another tear. “I’m sure you would.”
“We don’t need to do anything. You’ve said you love me and mentioned wife at some point.” She pinches my arm because I’m teasing her. “Our day is complete, and we can go to bed finally at peace that we’re not hiding anything from one another.”
Her chuckle mixed with snot makes her more lovable. “You’re still kind of keeping a major secret that involves pink or blue.”
I bring her hands up and kiss them. “That shall not be shared.”
“You’re unbreakable, aren’t you?”
“Only you can break me, but you can also put me back together.”
Her eyes glisten with more tears. “I’m scared. I don’t want to break us again.”
Dropping our hands, I kiss her lips with urgency and firmness to make it clear that she’s wrong. “No need to be. I’m here.”
“I’ve missed you, and I kind of missed mentioning that sometime in the last few months.” Her face goes cartoonish with her swollen eyes.
“I kind of got the memo when we slept together the first time and created a baby.”
She bubbles a laugh and plays along. “Oh good, I thought I wasn’t clear enough.”
Another kiss and then one more. Standing, I offer her my hand and then tug her up. I lead us straight up the stairs in silence and directly to our room.
With our eyes speaking their own language, I slowly undress her, and she does the same to me.
We lie on the bed. Rosie gets comfortable on her side with a pillow propped under her head and another in front of her that she throws her leg over. She’s perfectly shaped to the bed to be comfortable and easy for me to take her from behind.
Lying behind her, she meets my gaze again because her head can twist slightly, and she captures my lips for a kiss.
My hand follows the curve of her side and over the slope of her belly. The moment I touch her clit, my cock is harder than rock.
One finger enters her, and I take note of how warm she is and the way her body has been changing. Her tits have been driving me crazy as they get bigger.
But right now, I touch her pussy for a little bit while our eyes gravitate to one another and our mouths feather.
“I love you,” I mutter and barely touch her chin.
Sliding into her with my cock, she’s snug, and her walls clench around my length as I thrust gently, just halfway, and then returning deep within her. Agonizing for us both, but we’re not going fast tonight.
“I love you,” she whispers and chases my lips.
Another pump and this time deeper. I’m cautious that she’s extra sensitive and maybe in an uncomfortable way due to our baby growing, and that’s why I’m delicate with Rosie. I show restraint when all I want to do is fill her to the hilt with one blunt thrust.
Instead, I take my time and appreciate her body. Cupping her breast, nuzzling into the curve of her neck, scraping her shoulder with my teeth until she interlaces our fingers and rests them on her belly.
Time stops, and we stay this way until we both shudder, and even then, I keep her tightly close and remain inside of her.
She hums a sound before she dozes off, and I kiss her shoulder and follow her shortly after.
This is where we’re supposed to be.