“Speaking of names,” he deflects. “What are you calling the babies?”

“I haven’t decided. They need something, though, until we can find their parents.”

“They aren’t coming back,” he says firmly. “I gave the officers their license plate numbers, so maybe they will find them, but they aren’t in a place to take care of these two.”

“Are you sure?”

“I could be wrong.” Bear shrugs. “Stranger things have happened, I suppose. But they abandoned their infants, I can’t imagine a judge giving them custody again.”

“You know a lot about family court?”

“Naw.” Bear shakes his head. “I don’t know anything about family, to be honest. Or at least what I do know is fucked up shit…” His face goes red. “Sorry, Grace. I didn’t mean to swear in front of you.”

I press my hand to his. He looks so nervous suddenly, scared he might have offended me. “It’s fine,” I say. “And to be frank, most of what I know about family is pretty screwed up too.”

“I don’t believe you. No one could create a home like this,” he says, pointing to my cottage and my well-kept yard, “without knowing about family.”

“Like I said,” I tell him. “You don’t know me. I grew up in a bad place. It was scary and unsafe, and I manage to escape, to run away and start over.” I lick my lips, wanting him to understand, not just assume any more about me. “When I moved here, I swore I would make a better life for myself, one way or another. I wanted to break the cycle, even if it’s been hard, doing that all on my own.”

As I speak, I see that I’ve hit on something he well understands. He’s been hurt too.

“I’m sorry, Grace,” he says, his fingers brushing against mine, sending a ripple of emotion between us. “I hate that you went through hell and back.”

“What doesn’t kill us makes us stronger, right?”

He nods. “Something like that.”

“So, the babies,” I say, changing the subject. “What are we going to name them?”

“We?” He raises his eyebrows in surprise.

“I figure it’s only right. You saved them after all.”

“I’ve never thought about naming precious little babies.”

My heart melts at his description of the infants. I’ve never met a man so sweet on the inside, so tough on the outside.

He laces his fingers with mine. “You know how I said you were like a fairy tale?”

I nod. “Yeah?”

“What if we named them something from a children’s book?”

“Do you have any idea how cute you are right now?” I ask him. My ovaries just about explode at his absolute tenderness.

His face flushes bright red.

“Oh, my gosh, you’re blushing.”

He laughs, then pulls me to him. And just like that, I’m on his lap. My breath catches as he holds me in his arms. It is exactly where I want to be.

“Hmm,” I say. “Children’s books... There is Wendy from Peter Pan, Madeline... Pippi?”

He grins. “Hmm, I don’t know about those.” He twists his lips, thinking. “What about Laura, from Little House on the Prairie?”

“You know those books?” I laugh, surprised.

He laughs, too. “I was into the Ingalls’ family, I’m not ashamed to admit it.”

“I like Laura. It’s sweet, but not pretentious.” I rack my brain from stories that I’ve read to the kids here on the mountain. “When I was growing up we only had bible stories to choose from,” I tell him. “I grew up on a compound... it was really ...”

“Hard,” he says softly.

“Yeah.”

“Any names from Bible stories that you loved?”

“I’m not really religious anymore, I’m still figuring that stuff out,” I admit. Then I press a hand to my forehead. “I can’t believe I’m telling you all this.”

“I don’t know what I believe either,” he tells me. “I mostly believe in looking for the good and choosing to be brave even when it scares the shit out of you.”

“Those are good commandments,” I say, leaning into him. “How about we name the boy Abel? He was the good twin in the story.”

“Laura and Abel,” Bear says. “I like it.”

I nod feeling an even stronger tie to him now that we’ve named two children together. “Me too.”

He kisses me then, the way I had dreamt. Softly, on my lips, his hand on the base of my neck drawing me near. Our lips part and our tongues collide. I’ve been waiting for this moment since our time in the woods. Maybe I didn’t get any sleep last night, but right now my body is wide awake.

In his lap, I feel his hardness against me, and I run my hand over his length, grateful that I live in the middle of nowhere and that I can have the pleasure of kissing him without any eyes on us.

My body reveals how much I want him. My long nightgown rides high in my thighs as he kisses me, as my body moves to straddle him, his hands rest on my hips. We move in sync as if we both know the rhythm of this song.

“Oh, God, Gracie,” he groans.

“You’re so hard,” I whisper. “I’ve been thinking about your cock every day since we…”

“Came together.”

“Is that what you call fucking a stranger?” I ask, the salty words rolling off my lips.

He pulls my hair in his fist. “Don’t talk like that, baby. It wasn’t fucking.”

“What was it?”

“Making love.”

My body grinds against his and as I straddle him, I feel his hard tip buried in his jeans. God, how I want it buried in me.

“You’re so wet, Gracie,” he growls in my ear, his hand running over my white panties. They are soaked through.

“I don’t know if this is making love, but I want it. I want it so bad.”

“Aren’t you scared of me, of what I’ve done?” he asks, his hot breath in my ear.

“I’m more scared of what might happen to me if you don’t make me come again,” I tell him, my words hushed as desire rolls over me. I sit on top of him, his hands massaging my breasts, his mouth back on my lips, inhaling me as kiss causes a thousand pinpricks of pleasure to cascade across my skin.

I could stay like this for hours.

Then the babies begin to cry. Their tiny whimpers cause us to pull back. Our fingers lace, our eyes locked. I’m short of breath and our bodies are primed.

“They need you,” he says.

I nod. “And the social worker is coming by and I have to --”

He cuts me off. “I know.”

“Can we…?”

“Tonight?”

“Please.”

I kiss him once more, my legs shaky and when he stands I see his erection pushing against his blue jeans.

“Go to Abel and Laura,” he tells me. I nod, running a hand through my hair as I watch him leave.

Picking up the babies, my blood rushes, and my body hums as loudly as the morning on the mountain.

This is foolish and unwise. I know nothing about Bear except his name.

Yet I know, with all my heart, I must see him again, and soon.