I was afraid this was going to happen, and now it has. I knew Will Carter wouldn’t disappear from our lives so easily. There had to be a catch.
“Eric, he must’ve run into some complication he doesn’t know how to fix. We’ve been working together for months on this screenplay. I can’t turn my back on him now. We’re so close to finishing it.” Ivy looks at me with those puppy-dog eyes of hers, and I’m already starting to melt. But I can’t bear the thought of her traveling alone, especially in her condition. There’s no way she’s stepping foot on a plane without me.
But that’s the problem. I can’t leave the garden center. Not now. The Halloween season is a major moneymaker for Riverside Gardens. With a baby on the way, I can’t turn down the extra income that comes rolling in from the pumpkin patch I set up in the adjacent field. During the week, various school groups make their annual visit, and on weekends we’re jam-packed from morning till night, pressing apple cider and giving tractor-driven hayrides. It’s impossible for me to take time off.
“But why can’t you hash it out over the phone or by email like you’ve been doing?” I question Ivy, and she seems embarrassed as I bear down on her, hastily covering herself with her sundress. “Why do you suddenly have to fly across the country just because he snaps his fingers? He doesn’t own you.”
“Of course he doesn’t. But you know what this could mean for us if he’s able to sell this script. You wouldn’t have to kill yourself working so hard. You never gave yourself enough time to fully recover from your injuries after that stupid fight. I know you’re in pain a lot of the time, but you just push through it. It’s not right. Eric, I only want to help you as much as I can.” She gets up, tugging down her skirt. She’s nervous about pursuing this, but she’s determined and she’s not going to quit. I’m setting myself up to fight a losing battle.
“I know not going back to school hasn’t been easy for you.” I reach out and tuck a loose tendril of hair behind her ear, attempting to soothe her battered confidence with a loving gesture. “But it doesn’t mean that you’re never going to get your degree. Once the baby comes—”
“Once the baby comes, I’ll be busier than ever.” Her hands come to rest on my hipbones, and I can’t help reacting to her touch. “I’m not going to have the chance to do much of anything for a while. Don’t pretend things aren’t going to change, Eric.”
“I’m not…” But I’m at a loss for words when she begins to massage my stomach muscles with her thumbs. I gasp, widening my stance as my eyes start to close on their own accord.
“I want to contribute any way I can, and the one thing I know how to do is write. I’m barely into the second trimester of my pregnancy. Let me go and sort this out while I’m still able to travel.” She doesn’t like the idea of having to ask my permission for anything, that much is certain. And I can’t blame her for wanting to reassert her independence. But why does it have to be with Will?
“Ivy, if this is on account of what people around town are saying, you don’t have to prove yourself to anybody.” I grit my teeth as she takes a step back, making me acutely aware of my nakedness.
“This is not what this is about.” She glares at me from beneath her eyelashes. “Lauren’s bullshit has nothing to do with this.”
“I just don’t want you feeling pressured into doing anything you’re not up for. All I want to do is take care of you.” I reach for her, and she lets me hold her. She knows how worried I am about this pregnancy and how many things can go wrong. We’re not home free, not by a long shot.
“But it’s a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, Eric. When will I ever have a shot at something like this again? Probably never.” She sighs against my shoulder. In her eyes, she considers herself a failure. Coming here to work for me is such a step down for her. She’s too talented to man the counter of Riverside Gardens for the rest of her life. She’s young. She deserves the chance to spread her wings, and Will can give her that, even if I can’t.
“Promise me you won’t be gone more than a week. I don’t think I could part with you for longer than that.” I rest my chin on top of her head, staring glumly at the vibrant colors of the autumn sunset.
“Let me see what he wants. Maybe it won’t even take that long.” Ivy’s trying to encourage me as she rubs my back. After a day of heavy lifting, it feels so good that I shudder against her. “See, I know how to take care of you too, mister.” She chuckles and I hold on to her even tighter.
“Ivy, I can’t bear the thought of you leaving me,” I moan, just as Ben, our part-time helper, bursts into the greenhouse, not seeing us until it’s too late.
“Oh shit. Sorry, boss. I didn’t know you were in here.” Ben slides the rake he was carrying against the wall, lowering his eyes. “Do you need anything else?”
“Nah, that’s it for today. Thanks, Ben,” I mutter, grateful that Ivy’s sundress is back on her body. If he saw her… No, I won’t even go there. She’s mine and mine alone. We’re going to have to be more careful from now on. I can’t keep giving in to her every whim without taking some precautions. No one’s going to see how beautiful she is except for me.
“Goodnight, Ben,” Ivy calls out, unable to turn around because my arms are locking her in place. She’s pressed against my body, covering me even though it’s as clear as day that I’m buck naked behind her.
“Night, Ivy.” Ben shoots me a salacious grin over the top of her head, making me want to beat the crap out of him. As the town’s star quarterback, it’s obvious he bags girls left and right. It’s annoying to think of how many he must’ve been with since hitting puberty. He shuts the greenhouse door with a bang, but not before whistling through his teeth.
“Okay, that was mortifying, especially since he already caught me puking my guts out behind the cornstalk maze.” Ivy wipes her brow as I release my grip on her. “He felt so bad that he lugged a hose out there to clean it up before the kids arrived.”
“I think he has some kind of a crush on you, and I don’t want him getting any ideas.” My tone is lethal as I watch him swing into the driver’s seat of his brand new Ford F-150 pickup. He’s already secured a full ride to Penn State next year on a football scholarship. It must be nice having all of life’s perks at such a young age.
“Jealous?” Ivy teases, grabbing my length in her hand and squeezing hard. “You have no reason to be. He’ll never be half the man you are.”
Not expecting her surprise attack, I can only groan in response, making her laugh. She wraps her fingers around me, rapidly guiding her hand up and down my shaft. I’m powerless to stop her as I lean against the rose bushes, my breath coming in irregular intervals. I feel my knees weakening, but somehow I remain standing as she bends down to take me in her mouth.
“Oh, fuck…Ivy,” I cry out as the thorns dig into my back. I’m no fool. She’s thanking me for giving in to her, grateful that I’m letting her go to L.A. without much of a fight.
But how am I going to stand being away from this woman for seven long days and seven long nights? Let’s just say that I have no problem with her trying to make it up to me. And man, is she off to one hell of a start…
I hate that I’m freaking Eric out.
He tossed and turned all night after I confirmed my travel plans with Will. I’m leaving for L.A. tonight on a red-eye out of New York. Eric’s going to take half a day off and drive me to the airport. He called his buddy Jack to cover for him. He’ll drive the tractor and Eric’s dad Frank will take my place behind the register. Luckily they were both able to pitch in and help out on such short notice. Next week, Eric is going to rotate schedules between the two of them and Ben. Hopefully they’ll be able to tough it out until I get back.
I watch Eric sleep fitfully as the sun shines through the skylight above our bed, causing him to scrunch his eyelids. He looks so cute as he unconsciously throws an arm across his face to deflect the glare. My stomach clenches, and this time not from morning sickness, although it’s been pretty bad these last few months. I feel a pang, knowing that I won’t be waking up next to him for at least a week. We’ve only lived together since July, but the log cabin he built with his own two hands already feels like home. It’s up to me to make these last few hours we have together count.
I’m in one of his freshly laundered t-shirts, the white, short-sleeved style he regularly wears under his plaid shirts. I’m kicking myself for being so fastidious with the household chores because now I wish it smelled like him instead of fabric softener. I’m going to need something of his to help me fall asleep when I’m by myself in a strange hotel room.
I bite my lip to keep from crying. I can do this. I have to be strong, for him and for our baby. I’m not going to have him shouldering the financial load all by himself, not if I can help it. I refuse to strap him with any more burdens. For all intents and purposes, he’s supporting me right now, and it doesn’t make me feel good about myself. I’ve always pulled my own weight for as long as I can remember. I’ve never taken handouts from anybody before, and I don’t intend to start now.
Since our first night together, he’s always slept naked beside me. Sometimes in the middle of the night, I feel his erection press against the back of my thigh, and so far the only name he’s called out in his sleep has been mine. I’ve been dreading the moment when he cries out for Cassidy, but it hasn’t happened yet. It seems like he’s really and truly over her.
I glance over as he rolls onto his back, still unable to fully relax. He’s already pitching a tent, the sheet standing straight up below his waist. I chuckle to myself. He’s definitely ready for me. It’s time to make my move and start pampering my man with the precious moments we have left.
The feather mattress sinks beneath me as I get to my knees. Yanking down the sheet, I take a minute to commit his body to memory. I could stare at him all day long, but the clock is ticking. Scooting closer, I lift one leg over his waist to straddle him. He likes when I’m on top, especially when he sits up to join me. That’s a favorite position of ours, even though sometimes he likes to turn me around and take me from behind. I think it reminds him of our first time down on his couch when he tore me out of my black Jackie O. dress.
Before that night, I never had much experience with guys. My one hook-up was with Andre, the foreign exchange student from Ukraine whose dorm room was across the hall from mine sophomore year. We were always bumping into each other, making pathetic attempts at conversation. One Sunday morning, after a night out drinking with Sophie and the girls, we found ourselves between shower stalls. Stepping out, he took one look at me. I took one look at him. And bam…my virginity was a thing of the past. It was over in about twenty-five seconds, and I didn’t come anywhere close to achieving an orgasm. Sadly, we never had a chance at a second opportunity before the semester ended. He journeyed back to his homeland and that was that.
It was stupid having unprotected sex with someone I barely knew. And because of the language barrier, we never really had a real conversation. But I just wanted that dreaded rite of passage to be over with. I was sick of being the only one with an intact hymen among my group of friends. No one likes being the freak. I know I sure didn’t.
I haven’t revealed much about my sexual history to Eric. He’s kind of possessive like that, and I don’t think he likes the fact that he wasn’t my first. To be honest, I have mixed feelings about it. I don’t think I would’ve been as confident coming into this relationship without any kind of experience under my belt. Up until then, Cassidy was the love of his life. I was pitting myself against some serious competition. If I had been a virgin on top of all that, I would’ve been a complete basket case.
And I find it seriously hot that Eric was only with one other woman besides me. He wasn’t a player or sowing his wild oats after Cassidy died. He knew what it was like to be in love, and he was capable of restraint—two qualities that hooked me from the get-go. I knew that if I found the courage to trust him with my heart, he’d return my love with nothing but loyalty and devotion—as long as we stayed far away from the machinations of Lauren Price.
I need to drive any thoughts of that evil bitch right out of my head. I’m not going to have her ruin my morning with Eric. But I can’t prevent a surge of anger from coursing through me when I remember how she refused to sign off on Professor Tate’s form letter, denying me of my internship credits and basically canceling out the time I spent at the
Weekend Express
, my replacement assignment. Without her signature, I didn’t have enough hours to complete the requirements stated in the academic catalog. Her maneuver prevented me from enrolling in the courses I needed to finish my degree at the main campus. I couldn’t move forward without securing another placement, and since I am living in an area with more cornfields than media outlets, it was virtually impossible to secure a new position before the fall semester started.
Lauren’s efforts to derail my career were a complete success. She won, but I walked away with Eric. And it’s been eating at her ever since. Her bogus—although very public—display of affection with Eric went a long way toward cementing the image of them as a couple in the public’s mind. Everyone was rooting for Eric to make a fresh start. They were all pulling for him to find love again, just not with an outsider like me. They wanted him with one of their own. I was too young, too poor, too blah compared to Lauren. Eric could do so much better.
And I thought so too until Will contacted me out of the blue about his screenplay. He was having trouble nailing the local color the producers so desperately wanted when they visited our town last summer. They were considering moving on to another project if he couldn’t deliver what they were looking for by the end of the year.
Admittedly, Will is more of a schmoozer than a writer. He can talk a good game, but he just can’t translate his big ideas onto the page. If I didn’t step in and help him, he would have been in danger of losing his funding. Eric was leery of the idea, but he knew I needed this. He didn’t trust Will, but he was happy to see me writing again, putting my talent to good use.
Every spare minute I could cram into the day, I spent clicking away on my laptop, sending various drafts to Will for approval. I had never written a screenplay before, so I stuck mostly to dialogue, leaving out elements like camera angles, storyboards, and set design. I was in over my head, but I was having fun—and secretly getting even with Lauren in the process, making her the villain of the piece.
Up until this point, the producers liked what I was doing. Everything was going fine until Will texted that something was up. He didn’t elaborate when I called him back. He was rounding up the partners for an emergency meeting, and he needed my ass on a plane, pregnant or not. He was in one of his frantic moods and barely had time to write my flight number on his hand before hanging up on me. Whatever it was that had him so rattled didn’t bode well for the project. I had to help him salvage things. I owed it to Will.
Glancing down, I find that Eric is awake, watching me. I was so lost in thought. I didn’t even realize he was up. I’ll deal with Will when I get to L.A., but for now, my attention is focused on Eric. For the first time, I know what it’s like to be placed at the center of someone else’s universe because Eric gave me what Will never could—his heart and soul. He taught me what true love is all about. And he continues to teach me, both in and out of the bedroom.
“Good morning, beautiful. Sleep well?” He brushes my cares aside with one sweep of his hand, smoothing my hair away from my face. I’m still sitting on top of him, so it’s no wonder he’s awake. I’ve already gained about fifteen pounds with this pregnancy. I’m not exactly as light as a feather anymore.
“I did, but I don’t think you slept so well.” I frown, worried that he’s not going to get any rest at all when I’m gone.
“I didn’t disturb you, did I?” He sits up, lightly sliding me off him. I’m a little put out that he doesn’t want to fool around. He must be really tired.
I shake my head, trying to hide my disappointment. I can’t remember the last time he rejected my advances. Ever since I moved in, he’s been at my beck and call. Yeah, he has me spoiled, but we’re not going to see each other for a week. This is like our last chance to have sex, so why is he wasting it?
He yawns, stretching his arms above his head. He gazes at me sleepily under hooded lids. He has dark circles under his eyes, and it makes me nervous when I think about how much driving he has to do today. Three hours to the airport and three hours back—and he already looks exhausted.
It’s such a busy time of year at the garden center, and I’m abandoning him in the midst of the madness. I suck at being a girlfriend. God only knows what kind of mother I’m going to make. I just don’t want to let my new family down.
He notices the pensive expression on my face and draws my feet onto his lap. With his strong hands, he begins massaging each arch, one at a time, and it feels like heaven. I fall back among the pillows as he works his magic. This has become our morning ritual. He reaches back, grabbing the bottle of body lotion off the end table. Squeezing some onto his hands, he runs his palms up my leg all the way to the knee. I look up through the skylight at a flock of birds flying overhead as he begins to do the same thing to my other leg. I close my eyes and smile. He’s going to make a great father. I can picture him doting over our baby, just like he’s doting over me. The lotion even smells like baby powder.
But I have to stop being so needy. I want to give him some tender loving care before I go—and more than just getting the mud stains out of his jeans and preparing pre-cooked meals for the freezer. I want to do something special for him.
Getting off the bed, I grab his hand, dragging him along with me. He laughs, amused by whatever it is I’m up to. Groaning, he walks over to the dresser, taking out a fresh pair of boxers. I try to hide my disappointment that he’s getting dressed as I head into the bathroom. He must really not be in the mood this morning.
I pull a tiny stool out of the corner and place it in front of the sink. Digging through the shelves, I find what I’m looking for. Everything else I need is either on the counter or in one of the drawers.
“Hey, what are you up to?” Eric surprises me, kissing the top of my head while snuggling me from behind. He’s only wearing his boxers. That’s a good sign. They’re easy enough to remove. My eyes find his in the bathroom mirror as he drapes his arm protectively across my stomach. “Are you feeling okay? The last couple of mornings have been a little rough on you.”
Oh jeez, he heard me. Maybe that’s why he’s backing off. I thought he was already gone when I was on my knees, clutching the rim of the toilet bowl. But he must’ve been downstairs with Shep, who always renders his plaintive doggie wails whenever I’m battling a case of morning sickness. Shep’s howling undoubtedly muffled Eric’s anxious footsteps. I didn’t even know he was down there listening to me. How humiliating. I’m not even comfortable with Eric hearing me pee behind a closed door, never mind puking my guts out.
“I’m fine,” I reply before turning to face him. “Sit down.”
He raises an eyebrow, not even bothering to hide the smirk forming on his lips. I think he likes when I get all bossy with him. “Yes, ma’am,” he says, acting like he’s ready to obey my every command.
I turn on the faucet, waiting for the water to warm up. This close, I can see the tiny freckles dotting his shoulders. I want nothing more than to bend down and kiss each one, but I have a job to do. I can’t allow myself to get distracted—not yet. Eric starts stroking the back of my leg as I get everything ready. He’s waiting patiently, not sure of what to expect.
Once the water is lukewarm, I gently nudge his back, urging him to lean forward as I drape a towel around his shoulders. Trailing my fingers over his neck, I ease him into a reclining position. He gets the drift of where this is going as he gazes up at me, his head resting above the sink. There’s nothing but adoration in his eyes as I touch his face, my hand lingering on his cheek.
I hover over him, pausing for a minute. It’s hard to concentrate with him looking at me like that. I grip the edge of the counter. If I give in now, it’s all over, and I really want to do this for him. I take a deep breath, willing myself to continue.
I cup my hand under the running water and start wetting his hair. I work my fingers through it as he turns his head, allowing me to get the sides. His strong jawline stands out even more in profile. I feel his breath skim my breasts through the thin fabric of his t-shirt, causing my nipples to harden in response. Seeing how my body is reacting to him, he lowers his hands to his knees, gripping them tightly. He seems determined not to touch me, and that gets me going even more.
His hair is now completely wet, but I can’t stop myself from running my fingers through it. He moans with pleasure, making me glad I read that
Cosmo
article about how to massage a man’s scalp. He’s loving every minute of it. The ends of his hair are starting to curl as I rake my nails across his head. I can’t believe how long his hair got. He’s been too busy to go into town for a cut, but I’m about to change all that.