Chapter 29
Lily
Jakob grips the handle above the passenger's side window as the rusty old truck barrels down the bumpy dirt lane. A flock of sheep scampers out of the way just in time.
He yelps over the sound of Johnny Cash filling the cabin. "Whoa, lady. Are you trying to give my livestock heart failure?"
"How do I slow it down? How do I slow it down?" I shriek, my knuckles numb from squeezing the wheel so hard. All I see up ahead is the river sprawling before us.
He yanks the steering wheel to the right and the vehicle veers violently. “Get your foot off the gas," he commands in a calm voice, “now, depress the brake pedal and the clutch." Centered firmly in survival mode, I do as I'm told. Thank god, we’re slowing down. “Now, clutch to the floor." Again I follow his instructions. The tires grate into the dirt on the edge of the river as the truck grinds to a rough, screeching stop. Dust and gravel pitch up all around. His hand settles over mine and moves to the gear pad. "Shift into neutral and take your foot off the clutch."
My heart continues to judder in my chest even though we’ve managed to stop safely. “Ready to try again?” he asks almost immediately.
I groan, shooting him a look. “Why are you making me do this?”
He’s much calmer than I am. “Because you don't have a car and if ever you need to run an errand with my truck or if there's an emergency with Mini, I need to make sure that you have practice driving a stick shift."
I'm sick to my stomach. I don't know if it's nerves or morning sickness or a combination of both but this isn't a good feeling. "My poor baby," I grumble as my heart rate begins to level out again, "his brains must be scrambled up in there." I caress my belly in soft circles.
Jakob's hand stretches across the gear shifter and settles on top of mine. "You think you've got a little boy in there?" His eyes twinkle with restrained excitement that gets my heart to pound all over again.
Moments like these light a spark in me, a spark of hope, an optimism that Jakob and I may be able to evolve into something more. A little over than a month ago, I hadn't even met this man yet and now he's here, sharing my excitement, listening to my worries, calming my fears. He's a bigger part of this baby's life than his own father is. It makes me care about Jakob even more, as if I needed another reason.
But we still haven't revisited the conversation we started the other day. He still hasn't told me what he wants out of this thing between us. I don't want press the issue. Nobody likes getting harassed by an annoying telemarketer or a desperate car salesman. I don't want to come across as a needy pregnant chick scouting for a daddy figure for her baby. If things are going to progress between us, it has to happen naturally. I can’t force it.
Still, I’ve been staying far away from his bed to avoid further complicating things. But, I’ll tell ya, it’s hard. Every night when he gets up from the dinner table, throwing me one last smoldering glance before heading up the stairs to his room, I just want to throw myself in his arms (in the most dramatic fashion possible) and purr, “Take me with you…” I guess I’ve just got to appreciate the fact that he’s in my life, at all, and make the most of the time we spend together.
I smile at him. "I'm kind of hoping it's a boy."
"Boys rule!" He does a corny fist pump. I love seeing him silly and playful. It makes the big, gruff farmer all the more endearing.
"Did you grow up with brothers or sisters?" I giggle. I take his hand and put it back on my belly. I like having it there.
His eyes go cold and the joy withers out of his expression. "I have a brother, Zayn. He's a few years older."
If it were up to Jakob, that would be a dead end in our conversation, but I decide to push it just a little further. I want to get to know him. I'm curious about him, interested. "What was life like, growing up?"
He puffs out a heavy breath. "Not great, honestly."
"Care to elaborate?" I ask with a hitched brow. The look on his face borders on pained so I back down. "Y'know what? Never mind. I shouldn't pry," I say. I promised myself that I wouldn't pressure him.
But he looks into my eyes, and he pushes forward. "My childhood was a struggle. I grew up in Chicago. On the southeast side. My parents were junkies who'd spend their last dollar to get a hit even when their kids were hungry."
"Oh, Jakob..." I bring my fingers to the back of his neck and stroke him there.
He tilts his head and places a kiss on my wrist before continuing. "My brother was a little bully. He used to torment me for fun. Until the day I learned to punch back." He chuckles. "I broke his nose with my little fist. He didn't bug me from then on."
I titter lightly. "Good for you!" I hold up my hand for a high five and his palm cracks against mine.
His gaze becomes distant as he stares out the windshield. "We patched things up when we were teenagers. I was fourteen and he was about to turn sixteen. Our parents went completely awol. One of the neighbors reported it. We spent a couple of terrifying days in the system." He chokes on his own voice. "That's when Mini stepped in. She and Pops swooped in and saved us. We would have bounced around from foster home to foster home if it hadn't been for them."
"Ohmygod..." Now it all makes sense to me why Jakob is so protective of his grandmother, why he loves her as much as he does. "Did your parents ever come looking for you?"
He shakes his head. "Nope. I know that they're around. They weren't dead, the last I heard. But they never came looking for me. Or for Zayn."
It breaks my heart to hear that parents could just abandon their kids and never look back. The little one growing inside of me is no bigger than an apple and I can't imagine ever giving up on him. I may not have much to offer but my love is one thing my child will never be without.
Jakob glances over at me, eager to take the spotlight off of himself. "So, what's your story, Little Miss Sunshine? Did you grow up in a castle on the hill?" He smirks. "You look like you grew up in a castle on the hill."
I giggle, shaking my head. "I wish." I lean my skull back against the headrest. "Where do I even begin?" I gaze up at the vinyl headlining hanging off of the truck's ceiling.
"Anywhere you want," Jakob says softly.
I push out a breath. "Okay, my family's from a small town in Pennsylvania. My mother was a teacher. Young, beautiful and madly in love with one of her student's father. She says she did everything in her power to resist him when Grace was in her class but, like I said, it was a small town and they would run into each other often. Eventually, they started an affair. And she got pregnant. She was able to hide my paternity at the beginning, but by the time Faith got to her class, she couldn't hide it anymore. My sisters' mother found out that my mother was sleeping with her husband."
Jakob just watches me without saying anything. I can't tell what he's thinking and it's really hard to bare the intensity of his stare. The corners of my eyes begin to tickle the way they do right before the tears come.
"Grace and Faith's mom divorced my dad. My mother thought it meant that he'd live happily ever after with her. After all, she’d waited for him for years. He told her to be patient and when the time was right, they’d be together. But when his wife finally left him, he and my mom were anything but happy. I think they both just felt so guilty, so ashamed. Dad never lived with us. He and mom fought all the time when he came to visit. It was a disaster. When I was about seven, he left for good. He had a few other kids after that. I don't know anything about them. He and I don't really keep in touch."
Jakob threads his fingers through mine. I can't read his expression but his grip on me is tight. "What about your mom? How's your relationship with her?"
I sigh. "We try, she and I. We love each other so much. It's so difficult to have a meaningful conversation with her. She's in her own world most of the time. I don't think she ever forgave herself for being a home-wrecker.”
The tears run freely down my face now.
My head drops to my chest as my shame streams down in liquid torrents. "I was a mistake. If my parents had the chance to take it back, I wouldn't be here." My lips quiver violently as I speak. "Knowing that hurts so bad." I put both hands on my stomach as I weep. "I don't want this baby to feel like a mistake, too."
Jakob's hand cups my chin roughly. He jerks my face so that I'm looking straight at him. "Don't you ever say that," he growls leaning in to me. "You weren't a mistake. Neither is this baby...You two were made just for me."
I gasp, my heart swelling at his words. "You don't mean that. You can't. We aren't yours. You aren't responsible for us —"
He interrupts my rambling. “Shut up!" he commands. And then his lips seal against mine. He kisses me with an intensity that sucks the air out of my lungs and the insecurity out of my mind. Both of his rough hands cup my face and he kisses me like I'm his possession, his property. It feels so right when he takes me like this, when he owns me.
When we pull away, we're both breathless, hearts raw and open. Jakob turns the key in the ignition and the truck comes to life. We don't say a word to each other as the truck moves along the unpaved road back to the farmhouse. But the air is charged with everything.
Every promise, every secret, every hope for the future.
The air is charged with love.
You weren't a mistake. Neither is this baby...You two were made just for me.
If this is what it feels like to be claimed, to be owned, to belong to someone, I crave it. I want to be owned forever. By him. I'm willing to give this man every piece of me.
At the same time, the idea of being abandoned has never been scarier. What if he doesn’t mean it? What if he changes his mind?
But that night, I push aside my doubts. I go into his room and give my body to him. He fucks me slow with his lips on my skin and his fingers in my hair. I let go of my fear for just a little while.