Another thing that I was thankful for, was the fact they didn’t treat me like some victim of loss that needed to be handled like glass. They shot the shit, some giving Cade withering looks, most giving him shit –that he took remarkably well – and then they raised a glass, “To the best brother, son, and rugby forward we knew.” I choked up a bit on that one, but raised my lemonade and bit back the tears.
“Anyone else going to approach the table trying to kill me with a scowl then try and crush my bones with a handshake?” Cade asked evenly.
“Oh probably, it’s not even happy hour yet,” I told him sweetly.
He smirked, rubbing his hand on my thigh. “I like this for you, baby. That you got so many people who obviously care about you, respect you, got your back. It’s special, this whole damned place is spectacular.”
I scrutinized the pub with fake interest, taking in the dated stools and tables, the slightly stained carpet and the faded yellow paint.
“Well, spectacular isn’t the word I’d use for this particular establishment, I’m glad you like it all the same.”
Cade grinned outright, and what a sight to behold that was. “Fuck, I’ve missed your smart mouth.” His hand moved from my thigh to brush my belly lightly. “This town, this country. It’s freaking amazing, babe. I see how you love it so much.” He regarded me like there was something else moving in his mind.
I didn’t have time to ask him what because hurricane Amy strolled through the door. Conversation stopped and every head turned to look at my best friend. Granted, in a small-town pub in New Zealand, strangers stuck out like a sore thumb.
But this was something else, a drop dead gorgeous girl like Amy strolling into this place was like a fish jumping out of water and walking around on two legs. It also didn’t help she was dressed like she was about to head off to a five star dinner, not indulge in some hearty, honest, pub food.
Her long red hair tumbled over her shoulders, a mass of curls. She had on a gray, long sleeved knit dress that went down to her ankles and had huge slits up both sides, it was skintight, not leaving much to the imagination. She wore modest – for her – heeled ankle boots and a camel-colored draped leather jacket.
Definitely not the jeans and thermals most other women in here were wearing. Well, except for me. I was wearing leather leggings, a cashmere charcoal sweater, and knee-high boots. Everyone around here had accepted my inability to wear the local uniform years ago, but they hadn’t seen the likes of Amy. She was joined by my parents, who spotted us and waved. My father went off to the bar, no doubt to get drinks, but was deep in back slaps and man hugs before getting anywhere near. Mum spotted a couple of friends and waved Amy on.
“Sup, skank, biker dude, Supe.” Amy patted my tummy, sitting herself beside me.
“Hey, whore,” I replied.
Cade did a chin lift, grinning.
“This your local watering hole before you started sipping cosmos in the land of velvet ropes?” Amy asked, taking in our surroundings, winking at some of the men still staring.
I snorted. “You could say that, though I could count the times I’ve gotten drunk here on one hand. I was usually out looking for trouble, not staying in the one place I couldn’t find it. Not with all these guys around anyway.” I smirked. “Although, there was one night I did beat them all in a skulling competition.” I spoke a little louder, just so my neighbors could hear.
“You hustled us, girl, which means you didn’t win anything, you forfeit on account of deceit,” Bluey, one of the losers of that night exclaimed passionately.
“We agreed we do not speak of that night,” Louie scowled at me before turning to contemplate his beer.
“I’ll take you on right now, rematch, little girl.” Seventy-five-year-old Elliot declared, standing from his stool raising his beer.
I pointed down to my stomach, “Not really in the position to chug beers, on account of the little human growing inside me.”
“Humph excuses, excuses.” Elliot rolled his eyes at me before rejoining the men, a couple glaring in my direction. I blew them all kisses, turning back to Cade and Amy.
“It’s still a sensitive subject,” I explained.
“How long ago did this happen?” Amy asked grinning.
“Oh about six years ago,” I deadpanned and Amy burst out laughing.
Cade just gave me a look before he pulled me in for a kiss.
“Looks like you’ve been holding out on me and the boys, Gwen,” Cade whispered, eyes twinkling.
“Oh, just you wait, biker boy, I’ll whip all your asses once I get this little sucker out,” I told him, deciding it was time to put some of those cocky assholes in their place.
I waited for Amy and Cade to laugh, or even smile. It was a joke, I thought I was pretty funny, but their faces turned serious and I was met with silence. I felt like Ben Stiller doing stand up.
Cade cleared his throat, an intense expression on his face. “You planning on coming home to Amber then, Gwen?” he asked softly.
Realization dawned. My offhand comment had given these guys a much-needed clue as to my plans for the future. Was I going back to Amber? This place, this town was my home, it always would be. It held a huge chunk of my heart, contained people who I loved, respected, grew up with. It had been an amazing place to grow up, somewhere where I had no worries, the horrors and reality of the world outside rarely touched me here.
I had always thought I would eventually come back here and raise a family. But in my mind that was always someday. It was way in the future, an undedicated date I had given little thought to. A twenty-something girl living a glamorous lifestyle in New York barely thinks of the future, apart from wondering about Louis Vuitton’s next handbag collection.
But this was now. Not someday, vaguely in the future, and I had a lot of other people to consider in this decision, not just myself. As much as the idea of staying here, where nothing ever changed, or would change, appealed to me, I knew I couldn’t. I couldn’t stay in the place where every day I would have to drive down the road where Ian and I would have four-wheeler races, drink in the pub he bought me my first legal beer, take my child to the school where he and I had gone. It would shatter me.
“Yeah,” I replied quietly. “I’m coming home.”
I woke up for the second morning to be encased in Cade’s arms, my back snug to his chest, his arm protectively cradling my belly.
I instantly felt it.
Different. For the first time in two months, I didn’t feel like a thousand-pound weight was pressing down on my chest, making me almost physically unable to get out of bed, to face the day. I felt happy. Then I felt guilt. So strong it washed over me like nausea, settling in my stomach. A tear rolled down my cheek and I held my body taught trying to stop myself from shaking with silent sobs.
Cade’s arms tightened around me. “Gwen? What is it? Are you okay?”
He flipped me on my back, hovering above me, worried eyes searching my face. I looked at him a beat then burst into tears. He sat back on the bed pulling me into his arms, I buried my face into his shoulder and tried to stop, but the tears kept coming. Cade rubbed my back.
“It’s okay, baby.”
I didn’t say anything for a while, my emotions churned through me, rendering me speechless. How could I talk if I didn’t even know what I was feeling?