Annabelle said, “That could be cool, I guess.”
Jennifer laughed. “I wish somebody’d told Dyma that. She thought it was the lamest idea she’d ever heard. ‘Mother. Like I’m going to go do sports. I’m going to get an academic scholarship.’ What’s so galling is that she actually did it.” She sighed. “Thanks for entertaining the idea, anyway. That was novel. You so rarely get to be right as a mom.”
37
Stay With Me
Jennifer sat up in the darkness, confused about where she was. The door wasn’t in the right place, and she couldn’t remember where the bathroom was.
Oh. She was in Bismarck. Murder. Jail. Heartbreak.
She heard the noise and realized it was what had woken her. A muffled groan.
Annabelle. She threw the covers back, swung her legs to the floor, shivered in the chill, and wished for a bathrobe. She’d bought a nightgown today, but she was only going to be here one more night, and she had a perfectly good bathrobe at home.
Straining her ears, then, and hearing the sound again. She got out of bed, still fuzzy with sleep, grabbed her phone off the nightstand, switched the flashlight on, and headed across the hall to Annabelle’s room, then stood with her hand on the doorknob and listened.
Nothing.
She heard the noise again. It wasn’t coming from Annabelle’s room. It was coming from the room next to her own. Which was Harlan’s.
Oh, boy. What did she do now?
She couldn’t stand that sound.
Listening outside his door now, then knocking softly once, and again. No response, so she opened the door a cautious couple of inches and called out, “Harlan?”
Nothing. She slipped inside, lit the way to the bed with her phone light, and saw him sit up fast.
“What?” he asked, sounding fuzzy. “What’s wrong?”
About an acre of bare chest and bicep. A long leg sculpted of pure muscle, and the covers not covering enough.
He was naked, and that clearly hadn’t been a nightmare.
She switched off the flashlight fast.
Possibly the most embarrassing moment in the history of moments.
A rustle that was probably Harlan grabbing the blankets, and he said, “Bug? What’s wrong?”
Oh. He hadn’t been able to see her behind the light. “Ah … no.” She was over by the door now, as gone as she could manage to be. “Jennifer. Sorry. I’ll just …”
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“Nothing. I, ah, thought somebody was having a nightmare.”
“Oh.” A couple seconds, and he said, “Well, it was a dream, anyway. Hey. Come over here.”
“I should go back to bed.”
“Nah. Climb in with me. You’re cold, and I could use some company. Come talk to me.”
That would be stupid. Also crazy. The last time she’d done that, she’d gotten pregnant. She needed to go.
She said, “Just for a minute, then.” And slid in.
When her bare foot touched his, he jumped. She said, “S-sorry. Cold.”
“Yeah.” He rolled over onto his side, got an arm over her, and kissed her hair. “It was nice of you to worry.”
She laughed, and after a moment, he did, too. “It’s not my fault you’re noisy,” she said. “What was I supposed to think? You sounded tortured.”
“I did? It was kind of like that, I guess. And, yeah, it’d probably be more sensitive of me if it was a nightmare. That was a crappy day.”
“Mm. Dinner wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be, though. Other than telling them how your mom died, you guys hardly even talked about it. I think it helped having the kids here. Things never seem as horrible with a toddler around, or maybe everybody was just stunned.”
“Uh-huh. You know, I don’t exactly want to pursue this topic.” He ran his fingers over her shoulder and sighed. “This is kind of a thin little nightgown you’ve got on. I like these little straps. Not really up to North Dakota, though, do you think? No wonder you’re cold. Tell me it’s white. I have this vision of it being white.”
“It is,” she said, feeling shy. “I thought it was pretty. It wasn’t even … on sale, though.” His hand was moving down her arm now. How could that feel so good?
Because every time he touched you, he did it with such intent, that was why. Because he was always paying attention. “I always buy things on sale,” she explained. “But I needed something pretty today.”
“Yeah?” She smelled his clean scent as he came down over her, like the north woods. Wind and evergreens and the forest floor. He brushed his mouth over hers. “Tell me I bought it for you. Make my day.”
“Ah … no.” How were you supposed to breathe when he was kissing your cheeks, moving his mouth on over to your ear? “You’re not buying my …” She hitched in her breath, because he was kissing her neck now. “Clothes.”
“You haven’t asked me about the dream,” he said, between those gentle kisses at her neck, then another one dropped onto her lips. He wasn’t touching her, though. Why wasn’t he touching her? “I’m pretty sure that’s how this is supposed to go. You come in because I’m having a nightmare, I tell you about it, and it gets better.”
“Uh, yeah. I’m not sure I want to hear this one. Also, we’re not having sex.”
He rolled onto his back and laughed. “Aw, man. Shot down again. Does it help if I tell you that the dream was about you?”
She should get up and leave right now. This was crazy. If the baby was his, she needed the distance. If it wasn’t, things were even more impossible. She said, “I should tell you. Something happened to me after I spent that night with you.”
“Yeah. You mentioned.” Still sounding lazy. Not upset at all. She tried to think, Of course he’s not upset. A baby’s a little money out of his pocket, and that’s all. But she couldn’t get there, not with what she’d seen from him today.
“Not that,” she said. “I mean …” She was not telling him this. She was not. “I started thinking about how I could … change. If I could take some … steps. To be a little more … adventurous.” He wasn’t touching her anymore, and she wanted his hand back. She wanted him to slip that strap off her shoulder and kiss her there, so gently. She wanted to feel him unbuttoning the front of the chemise, and she wanted to feel the brush of the thin cotton as it fell away from her body.
It’s hormones, she told herself, but it didn’t matter what it was. She wanted it anyway.
“Exactly what kind of steps?” His voice was like warm caramel, and he wasn’t on his back anymore. She saw the darkness of him over her, felt the warmth of his breath on her cheek. “Jennifer. Did you get a tattoo? Tell me it was on that gorgeous ass of yours, and I’ll forget all about my dream. Depending how well you describe it, of course. Or better yet … you could show me. Just roll over onto your stomach, and I’ll flip up that little nightgown and … look.”
How were you supposed to breathe? She said, “It’s dark.”