FINN

Winter looked worn out when I picked her up for dinner.

“What’s wrong, and whose ass do I need to kick?” I said only half-jokingly.

She gave me a wan smile. “Nice to see you, too.”

Something was wrong because she’d required a lot of cajoling to let me take her to dinner, which surprised me. After all we'd shared at the farm, I thought we left solid. But she hemmed and hawed and then finally caved. It pissed me off a little and worried me a helluva lot more.

"You look like a truck ran over you."

"Thanks," she said sourly. Then she laid her head down on the table.

I quickly stood and went to her side of the booth. I pushed her unresponsive body over and pulled her into my arms. "What's going on?"

"Ivy's pregnant," she mumbled into the tabletop.

I thought for a moment that I misheard her. "Pregnant?"

She nodded.

"Holy shit." A dozen thoughts tumbled in my head. How far along was she? Did she name the father?

"Yes, that was my response too." Winter sat up, but her head was still so heavy she had to prop it up with a hand. Leaning on her elbow, she stared at me with dark, worried eyes.

"What’s she going to do?" I knew that answer, though. Winter wouldn't have looked this way if Ivy had made a different decision. My heart beat so loud I swear she could hear it.

"She's keeping it. I know it sounds stupid, but I just…I could have been aborted, you know? Ivy didn't want that. And I can't stand the thought of my nephew or niece not being part of the family. I asked Tucker to take her on, but he said no. Maybe I should push Ivy to have an abortion. I just don't know. I feel like we're making all the wrong decisions already."

I pushed her head into my shoulder so she couldn't see me. So I couldn't see her.

"When's she due?" I asked, my voice hoarse and dry.

"She didn't know. She couldn't remember the last time she had her period. The nurse said without an ultrasound, we wouldn't know the accurate due date, but between twelve and sixteen weeks."

Twelve and sixteen weeks? My dad died one hundred eight days ago. That was fifteen weeks ago. Fuck. FUCK. I pulled up the memory, the one that I'd tried to forget after Winter had found me that night. The one I hadn’t told her about. But all I could remember was Ivy in the drugstore. Ivy in my truck. Ivy and I drinking. Ivy and I… No. I closed my eyes. Nothing happened that night. I would've remembered.

I cleared my throat. I had to come clean. Better now than later. Winter already felt vulnerable because she felt like she was second place. "You know that night you found me? I was in a bad place."

"Everything okay here?" A brown-haired waiter whose hair flopped into his eyes interrupted.

Winter immediately pushed away from my chest and brushed her own hair back. "Yes, everything is fine." She picked up her menu and looked at me and then at the space across from her, meaning, I was supposed to go over to the other side. Not happening.

"I'll have the steak, mashed potatoes, and soup."

"Soup and bread. Lots of bread." Winter put in her own order.

The waiter took off, and I tried again. "I'd been drinking a lot after Dad died. It was a tough time, and I did a bunch of stupid things."

"Did you want bread before or with your entree?"

Goddammit. Would he just shut the hell up and put in our order. “With the entrée,” I said impatiently.

"With the soup, please," she replied with a soft smile, trying to make up for me being an asshole, I suppose.

Winter elbowed me in the side, but I didn’t flinch, too busy glaring at the waiter who refused to get a fucking clue. He stood, half bent over, as if Winter were going to give him her phone number. Hello, asshole, I’m sitting right next to her.

“She said with the soup,” I repeated loudly. Was I going to have to starting mauling Winter in front of him so he’d stop staring at her like a stupid cow?

He finally shuffled away, and I turned to Winter to finish confessing. Before I could open my mouth, though, she said, “I know what you're going to say, and you don't need to explain."

"I don't?" I blinked. Had Ivy said something?

"Yes, it's in the past, and there's no reason for us to spend time dwelling on the past. It didn't involve you and me and it won't affect us in the future."

That…that was incredibly generous and maybe entirely too optimistic, but if she thought it wouldn't affect us then why should I spend any mental energy on it?

I made one more stab at it so she knew I was truly sorry. "You know that I drank with Ivy. I never did drugs with her, but I definitely drank."

Winter's lips pressed together, and then she blew out a stream of air. "I know, but she's clean. You're clearly not an alcoholic. In AA, the person in recovery has to make amends, and in Al-Anon, you have to learn how to accept that. I don't see how either of us can move beyond the past if we don't learn a little forgiveness."

I marveled at her capacity for forgiveness then. Would I have been so accepting if Winter had screwed, say, my cousin Callum and gotten pregnant with their baby? I don't think so. I think I would've been angry and turned her away.

Hadn't I still been judging my mom for everything she'd done while excusing my old man? Part of me did feel like she killed him. It wasn't rational. He killed himself through years of bad eating and refusing to ever see a doctor. That his wife had an affair with his brother hadn't killed him. It was fucking bad timing is what it was.

"You're pretty amazing, Winter." I reached over and cupped her head. She felt so fragile and delicate in my big hands. Her silky hair caught on my callouses, and her soft skin took on a very attractive reddish hue after I'd rubbed my stubble all over it.

I didn't want to hurt this tender girl in any way. I was beginning to realize how vital she was to my life. The urge to prove myself to her was becoming important. I lowered my head and sipped from her lips, sucking lightly and inhaling all the sweetness she so unselfishly offered. Behind me I heard the coughing of the waiter, but I ignored him because food wasn't remotely more interesting than kissing Winter.

Unfortunately she heard him and drew back. Her lips looked satisfyingly red, and her eyelids had a sleepy look to them. I hid a smirk and gave the waiter a short nod of gratitude for delivering our food.

"Anything else you need?"

"No." The sharp denial sent him on his way.

"I hope you're leaving a big tip for that guy," she whispered before shoving a big spoonful of potato soup into her mouth.

"Twenty percent," I said and then revised it immediately at her glare. "Thirty, I meant thirty percent."

"I'm surprised you didn't palm my boob when he took our order."

"Oh, you knew about that, did you?" I laughed.

"You were a little obvious. I'm pretty sure he was being nice, and there wasn't any need for you to exert your dominance."

"I could have peed on you. You should be admiring my restraint," I replied cutting into my steak.

She rolled her eyes. "If you ever pee on me, that's probably the last time we'll see each other."

"Noted. No golden showers for Winter."

She shuddered and then held up an index finger. "I forgot to tell you that I'm going to be apprenticing full time with Tucker now."

"Is that because of Ivy's situation?" I asked carefully.

She started to immediately deny it but then pushed her bowl away and turned toward me. "At first, I suppose it was, but I think it's something I've wanted to do for a while, and Ivy's situation just gave me the kick in the butt. And you, of course," she added as an afterthought.

"Of course," I replied dryly.

She was smiling as she started dipping torn pieces of bread into her soup. "Even though I should go home tonight, I guess it doesn't mean I can't fool around for an hour or so."

I lifted my arm. "Check, please."

* * *

"You're beautiful, sweetness," I said. I'd managed to get us to the house in the Woodlands without getting pulled over, which was a good thing because Winter had her head in my lap and had done things with her mouth that were illegal in all fifty states and not just because we were in a vehicle.

I withdrew to the very tip and dug my right knee into the mattress so I could thrust into her harder. She arched her back and released a long, mewling cry of pleasure, letting me know I was hitting exactly the right spot.

"Oh, Finn. Right there."

My cock swelled in response. I shoved forward, trying to hit the exact spot while at the same time staving off my own desperate orgasm. The tight clutch of her pussy was making it hard to breathe or think or do anything but mindlessly pound into her.

"Come with me," I begged her. I slid a hand between the two of us and began to rub.

"Yes, yes," she chanted.

Sweat and desire clouded my vision as my whole body strained against the effort to explode inside her. She dragged her nails down my back, and that was it. Her abandon in bed drove me wild. What little control I had was shredded, and I let go.

I couldn't stop myself from coming. I shoved forward so hard her head nearly banged against the headboard, but she slammed her hands against the wooden frame and met each plunge of my cock with a thrust of her own hips. Hot seed flooded the condom, but I kept thrusting and rubbing her until her own body shook beneath mine.

We slammed against each other, gasping out rough promises, until our bodies gave out. I collapsed on top of her and allowed myself to wallow in her for a couple of seconds before rolling off.

I pressed a kiss into her sweaty forehead and pulled her small body against mine. She allowed herself to be cuddled for a few minutes before sighing heavily in regret and pushing away.

"Already?" I winced at the whiny little boy tone that had crept in.

She looked over her shoulder and brushed her hair away from her face. "Yeah. It's close to ten."

"All right, I'll drive you. Give me a second." I swung my legs over the edge of the bed. Behind me I heard a gasp.

"Oh God, did I do that to you?" she exclaimed. I felt her fingers skim over my shoulder blades. I peered over my shoulder.

"What? The scratches?"

She sucked in the side of her lip. "Sorry."

"You'll have to make it up to me," I said and strode to my dresser, where I found a pair of sweatpants. I don't bother with underwear.

"Yeah, and how will I do that?" she asked, voice suspicious.

I threw on a T-shirt and came over to help her with her clothes, which consisted of skinny jeans and a loose fitting T-shirt. No bra. I noticed she rarely wore one, which I loved. I just needed her to wear skirts more often. "By putting the marks where people can see them." I leaned down and sucked lightly on her neck, not hard or long enough to leave a visible bruise but to give her an idea what I was talking about. "That way you can scare all the other girls away."

"You're supposed to do that for me, especially when I'm not around."

"I do. When I'm not with you, I don't shower or shave. I scratch my balls and fart." I tickled her. "Is that scary enough?"

"Terrifying," she agreed and smiled.

My heart flipped.

Her braless state wasn't the only thing I loved about her.