Chapter 10
TEN
CLIFF
“Aw… fuck.”
My morning isn’t off to the best start.
I got in late after another fire call.
I knocked over the pile of fire wood.
And now, I can’t find a damn thing. Which is weird because my cabin is basically only two rooms plus the shitter.
I yank open the top drawer of my dresser and slam it shut with more force than necessary. I open the second, but don’t find it. I try to shove it closed but it sticks, then pops open so hard it nearly takes out my kneecap.
I curse under my breath and reach for the third drawer. I misjudge the angle and catch my thumb in the edge.
“Fuck it all to fucking Hell,” I hiss, shaking out my hand and cradling it against my chest. “Whatever. Fuck it. Who gives a fuck if I don’t have a clean shirt?”
It’s not like I have anyone to impress.
“Fuck,” I blurt out again, for good measure.
I march over to the laundry basket and dig through the pile, desperate for a flannel shirt that doesn’t reek of smoke. Most are crumpled or stained with grease. I find one at the bottom that smells like pine and worn leather.
“Good e-fucking-nough.”
“Whoa. Are you on your period or what?”
I spin toward the sound of Winter’s voice. She’s standing in the doorway of my bedroom, eyebrows arched, a steaming mug of coffee in her hand, held out like it’s some sort of peace offering.
“I thought you told me it wasn’t funny to make jokes about women and their cycles,” I growl.
“I said it wasn’t funny for men to make jokes about it. It’s totally fine for me to do it. Especially if it’s at my grumpy brother’s expense.”
I grunt and pull a plain T-shirt from the bottom of the drawer. It’s wrinkled. Whatever. I tug it on anyway, and slide the flannel shirt over my shoulders. Winter follows me into the kitchen, practically stepping on my heels.
“Jokes aside, you’re acting like a real pain-in-the-you-know-what.”
“I’m not acting like anything.” I scowl at her. “And just say the word. Say ass.”
“I’m not going to say ass. Even if you’re being one.”
I clench my jaw. “Did you want something?”
“I wanted to find out why you’re stomping around like a moose in heat.”
I stamp a foot down. “I’m not…”
I trail off as Winter cocks her head to the side in a very “see what I mean” way.
“You’re upset,” she says. “And you have been since I got back from my honeymoon.”
“You only got back yesterday. Isn’t a man allowed to have a bad day?”
“Cliff.” Her voice softens, but it only makes my jaw clench harder. “Talk to me.”
“There’s nothing to talk about.”
“Bullshit. You look like shit.”
I wince. “Gee thanks.”
“Fine. You look like someone whose soul is dying. Better?”
I sigh. Damn it all. If it was anyone else, I could tell them to fuck off. But not with Winter. She’d just laugh in my face and keep pestering me until I answer.
My shoulders slump. “It’s Sophie.”
With a nod, Winter takes a seat at the kitchen table and gestures for me to join her. “What about Sophie?”
Damn. How am I going to tell her what I’ve done. “We… hooked up.”
She arches an eyebrow.
Now that it’s out, the floodgates open. “At the wedding. Before it. After it. But we hooked up.”
Winter’s other eyebrow goes up. “And?”
“And?” I shake my head. “I just told you I hooked up with your best friend at your wedding and all you can say is ‘And’?”
“Well, yeah.” Her brow relaxes. “I already knew.”
“You did?”
“Everyone did.” She gives a short laugh. “It’s not like either of you were very good about keeping it a secret.”
“Well?”
“Well what?”
I blink at her. “Don’t you have an opinion about it? God knows you have an opinion about every other couple that’s fucked in the area. You wrote a whole book about it.”
She rolls her eyes at me. “I wrote a relationship book.”
“Semantics.” I huff. “You didn’t answer my question: Don’t you have some kind of thought or feeling about what I’ve just told you?”
“Oh, I have plenty of thoughts and feelings.” She leans back in her chair, eyeing me speculatively. “But I think the most important question is what your thoughts are about it. I already know it’s made you mad.”
“Hooking up with her didn’t make me mad. Her ghosting me did.”
“Ghosting?” She frowns. “Sophie didn’t ghost you. If anyone ghosted anyone, it was you.”
Her eyes narrow. “I have half a mind to kick your ass for doing that. Actually, that’s mostly why I came by.”
“It’s why you came…”
“That’s right. To find out what the hell possessed you to sleep with my
“The fu…” I shake my head. I seem to be having trouble finishing my sentences right now. “You seem to have a few wires crossed.”
“Really? To me it seems like you’re just being a man. Taking what he can get without a look back.”
“Are you kidding? She broke my heart.”
Now, Winter is the one to look confused. She opens and closes her mouth a few times. Her voice is strangled when she finally says, “Sophie broke your heart?”
“Yeah, she did.” I press the heel of my palm to my chest, where there’s been a dull ache the past two weeks. “I know she said she only wanted a little vacation fling, but I feel for her.”
“Did you tell her?”
I was going to. I was going to tell her the morning after your wedding, before she flew back home, but I got called away for that wildfire. When I got back, she was gone.”
“Without saying goodbye?”
“She left the motel. Left Alaska. Without so much as a note.”
Winter shakes her head slowly. “That doesn’t make sense. That’s not like Sophie.”
“Well, that’s what happened.”
“Plus, I have it on good authority she left you a note.”
“She… she didn’t leave me a note.” I clench and unclench my jaw. “Where did she leave it?”
“With the girl at the motel’s front desk.”
“The girl at the…” I groan. “The one who…”
“The one who is always making eyes at you even though she’s barely legal.” Winter clucks her tongue. “God damn.”
“Wha—what did the letter say?”
“Everything.” She gives a light laugh. “Said she poured her heart into it. She said she had caught feelings for you. She talked the IVF. She said she’d hold off if you wanted to try having a relationship.”
“IVF?”
Winter winces. “It’s definitely not my story to tell. Though… I guess she was going to tell you about it.”
She takes a deep breath. “Sophie is planning on having a baby. She’s… Oh my God. She has an appointment at the clinic. This afternoon.”
A dozen thoughts fly through my head at warp speed. Sophie is having a baby. With an anonymous donor. How do I feel about that?
How do I feel knowing the woman I love loves me? And right now, she’s planning on having a family on her own. Because she thinks I don’t love her.”
I fumble around my counter until I find my phone. “What’s her number?”
She gives it to me. I punch in the numbers. It rings and rings. But she doesn’t answer. I leave a message, and hang up.
By the time I’m off the phone, Winter is grabbing the keys to my plane. “I’ve already booked you a direct ticket from Fairbanks to Seattle. Are you ready to go get your girl?”
I swallow past a lump in my throat and give a shaky nod. “I’ve been ready for her my whole life.”
The receptionist barely gets out a “Sir, you can’t go back there!” before I’m halfway down the hallway of the Seattle fertility clinic. I know I’m probably violating every policy in the book, but I don’t care. I need to see Sophie.
I’ve left her dozens of messages.
I even called the damn clinic.
I’ve flown hours and paid a fortune in on an Express car service.
I’ve come way too damn far not to see my woman and be there for her as she takes one of the most important steps in her life.
A nurse steps into the hall, blocking my path. “Sir, patients are not allowed beyond this point without clearance.”
“I just need to talk to Sophie. Please.”
The nurse hesitates. “Are you the man who was trying to reach her earlier?”
I nod quickly. “Yes.”
She disappears into a side room, and my heart thunders in my ears. After what feels like forever, she returns with Sophie behind her. She’s in jeans and a sweatshirt, her hair up, face pale.
“Cliff?” she sighs. “You’re here.”
“Of course I’m here.” I cross to her in three long strides. “I didn’t get the letter. I didn’t know. But I know now. And I’m here.”
“I see that.” She blinks at me. “Why didn’t you call?”
“I didn’t find the letter until this morning,” I explain, out of breath. “I hopped on the first flight I could get.”
“You still could’ve called today.”
“I tried,” I say. “It kept ringing out.”
Her eyes widen. “I put my phone on silent earlier today. I just wanted to relax.”
“It’s fine,” I say. “Besides, I wanted to come tell you in person.”
She stares at me, her eyes going as misty as mine feel. “Tell me what?”
“I’m saying I love you.” I take a deep breath and a smile slowly spreads across my lips. “And I want to be part of this. Of all of it. If this… goes the way you hope it does, I want to be there for you. Both of you. If it doesn’t, I want to be there to try again. With you.”
“You do?”
“Of course, I do. Because this isn’t just a fling for me. You matter, Sophie. You—you and this baby, if you’ll have me—are all I want in this world.”
A tear slides down her cheek. “Do you mean that?”
“More than anything.”
She lets out a soft laugh. “Good. Because I love you, too.”
Unable to stay away from her another second, I pull her into my arms. I rest my forehead against hers. The lump in my throat swells and I blink hard against my own damp eyes.
“How are you feeling?” I ask.
She lifts her shoulders. “Good. Scared. Excited. Already sick to my stomach.”
I brush a thumb across her cheek. “You’re already sick?”
She nods. “I puked twice.”
“You poor thing.” I gently stroke her back. “Was it nerves?”
“Not exactly.”
I frown. “Is something wrong?”
“No.” She hesitates. Then her smile turns radiant. “Because I am pregnant.”
“You’re—?” I blink. “Already? Can they tell that fast?”
“They can when you’re already two weeks along.”
“Two weeks…” I suck in a breath as warmth spreads through my chest. “You’ve been pregnant for two weeks?”
She nods. “We took a test an hour ago before I started the procedure. Apparently those condoms we used were just novelty.”
She pulls a face. “I should probably warn the other girls.”
“You’re having my baby—our baby?”
“I’m having our baby.”
I whoop and wrap her in my arms, spinning her around. She throws her head back and lets out a laugh—the most beautiful, melodious sound I’ve ever heard.
The woman I love.
The mother of my child.
That thought gives me pause.
“Oh shit.” I set her down carefully. “I have to be more careful. You’re carrying precious cargo.”
“It’s okay.” She beams at me. “I won’t break.”
“I know. You’re the strongest woman I know.” I her hair back away from her face. “But I plan to take care of you and this little one.”
She leans into me. “You better. I’m not doing this without snacks and back rubs.”
“Deal.” I grin, and go back to rubbing gentle circles around her back. “But promise me one thing.”
“What’s that?”
“We are not getting a mini van.”
“Oh of course not.” Her eyes sparkle. “No self-respecting mountain man would ever drive one of those.”