Gibson
I parked my truck on the street in front of the motel, the one where Sacha and I spent our only night together. Fragmented memories bounced around my mind, leaving irritation in their wake. I knew better than to get that drunk. I was an idiot. But in my defense, I'd been pent up for way too long and got carried away, plain and simple.
It wouldn't happen again.
My heart thumped suddenly as Sacha's car came into view. My involuntary physical reactions were another source of irritation. I had to remain in control of my mind and my body. She had made it clear that her pregnancy was the only thing tying us together. This was more of a business arrangement than a personal relationship. I would show her my home, and we would make a plan to handle things going forward.
Thinking of it that way helped. She pulled up to the curb behind me, and I went to greet her. As I leaned in her open window, she was so close I could smell her clean, floral scent. For a moment, I forgot what I was going to say. She blinked, and I regained my composure.
"Are you sure you want to follow me? The road up to my place is all gravel and kind of rough. Maybe I should drive."
She hesitated for a moment, biting her bottom lip. I wasn't sure whether it was the thought of driving on a rough road or being alone with me that made her pause. Then she reached into the back seat to grab her purse, asking,"Do you think my car will be safe here?"
"For a few hours, sure."
She turned off her engine, and we walked to my truck. I helped her climb inside, grateful I'd thought to clean it up the day before. It was the first time a woman had seen the inside of this truck, and it felt strange. I glanced at Sacha as I started the engine and pulled onto the road. Was she really more beautiful each time I saw her, or was my mind playing tricks on me?
Her chestnut hair had golden highlights and fell in waves to her shoulders. Her make-up was minimal, and she really did seem to have a glow about her. She didn't look pregnant, that I could tell, had I not known. She seemed healthy, and for that I was grateful.
"How are you feeling, Sacha?"
Her smile was quick but warm. "Pretty good, except for tummy troubles now and then."
"That's good. I was worried."
"Don't be. My doctor is wonderful. Plus, my good friend Melanie lives next door. She checks in on me all the time."
As we traveled the winding road out of town, I played tour guide, describing the local sites as we passed. First, it was the giant bear statue in the middle of town, then the diner, then the waterfall just outside the town park. As the more natural scenery began, the narrow road hugged a rock wall on one side with the tumbling, shallow river on the other. It was one of my favorite parts of the drive.
"There's the Chattahoochee River next to us. Or as the locals call it, 'The 'Hooch.'"
She craned her neck to see. "They call it that in Atlanta, too. It's a lot wider and muddier down south."
"That's true. My parent's place overlooks the river. It is definitely wider there but much deeper, better for kayaking and such. Here, they mostly use inner tubes in the summer."
I'd slipped and mentioned my parent's house, but she wouldn't be able to tell much from the comment. Still, I'd planned to keep my former life private, for now at least.
Some kids on the riverbank had poles in the water, despite the chill of the day. Sacha spotted them and asked, "The fishing is pretty good up here, right? That's what some of my clients said."
"Yes, and I know of some of the best spots to fish, if you ever want to try it."
An image flashed in my mind, of Sacha, a little boy, and me. We were walking to the spot Marvil had taken me, poles and gear in hand, ready for a family outing. It was foolish, but I entertained the unbidden fantasy for a moment before pushing it from my mind.
"Maybe someday."
She was lying, but I appreciated her effort.
The road grew steeper as we neared the turnoff. Being Saturday, I had to endure traveling at a snail's pace behind tourists, but it gave me the opportunity to watch Sacha. She stared out the window at the passing landscape, spiky bare trees interspersed with clumps of tall pines. As we turned onto the gravel road that led to my cabin, she gasped at the sight of the narrow wooden bridge up ahead.
"You didn't say anything about that."
I couldn't suppress my smirk as I maneuvered the truck onto the one-lane, rickety bridge. "You didn't ask."
Suspended over a wide creek, the bridge was sturdier than it looked. A waterfall tumbled over two huge boulders on one side, and the creek pooled at the bottom then ran under the bridge. Sacha glanced from side to side, taking it all in.
"It is pretty. But scary."
She held onto the door handle as we bumped over the rocks protruding from the graveled surface of the road. I was practiced enough to avoid the worst ruts, but it still wasn't a smooth ride. "See why I insisted on driving?"
She merely nodded and appeared to be holding her breath. I stifled a laugh, recalling how nerve-wracking it had been for me the first time I'd gone up this road. When I had seen the cabin and the view from the back deck, it had been worth every mile.
Soon we rounded a curve and Marvil's cabin came into view. It was larger than the one I lived in but a few years older. It didn't have the views mine had, but was nestled among the pines.
"Is that it?"
"No. That's where my landlord lives. The older gentleman I told you about."
"Oh."
Disappointment had laced her tone when she saw the old cabin. I wondered what she was going to say about my place. We kept climbing, the truck's gears grinding, bouncing along the next half mile. As the green metal roof of my little cabin came into view, partially obscured by trees, Sacha let out a sigh of relief.
"The drive wasn't that bad, was it?"
She huffed. "Only for my stomach."
I pulled up in front of the porch so she wouldn't have far to walk. Helping her from the truck, I stood by while she took in her surroundings.
"It's quiet here."
"Except at night. Wildlife sometimes makes its presence known."
Her eyes went wide, but she said nothing. She walked up to the covered front porch and touched the logs that made up the structure. "Pine?"
"Yep. Georgia white pine. Only the floors are different, made of oak."
I unlocked the front door and let her precede me. I'd placed bowls of pine cones and scented candles out to enhance the room. I figured some aromatherapy couldn't hurt. Sometimes the cabin had a musty smell, especially when it was closed up for a time. I wanted her to be comfortable in my home.
She looked around at the living room, the floor-to-ceiling rock fireplace, the cheery kitchen off to one side. Sunlight filtered in from the upper windows and the panorama of rolling mountains, still flecked with fall colors, was showcased through the sliding glass doors.
"Not bad."
"That's what I said the first time I saw this place. Then I moved in. Can I take your coat?"
She slipped off her coat, and I instinctively looked at her stomach. She wore a peach-colored sweater, and though it was loose-fitting, it still flattered her figure. There was no baby bump yet, but her breasts seemed larger than I recalled.
I chastised myself for the rush of desire that immediately flooded my veins. This wasn't going to be easy.
I took her coat and hung it on a hook near the front door. "Would you like something to drink?"
She was still looking around at the furnishings, the walls, and out the windows. The place had come furnished, so the decor was plain, but I had added a few touches to make it my own. Like the Georgia Bulldogs throw on the sofa, the Tiffany lamp, and the leather ottoman in front of the recliner. It made the place feel a bit homier, albeit much less fancy than what I'd been used to.
"Do you have any ginger ale?"
"I might. I have some sandwiches made, too. We can eat outside." I opened the sliding glass door so she could step onto the deck. I pointed to the nearest rocking chair. "Make yourself at home. I'll be right back."
When I returned a few minutes later with two cans of soda and a tray, she seemed quite content. She was rocking slowly, her head back, taking photos of the view with her phone. "This is actually pretty nice. I apologize for doubting you about your cabin."
I placed the soda in her hand and put the tray on a small table between us. "No harm done. It's plain but comfortable. Plus, you can't beat the view."
"No, you can't. I'm impressed."
We chatted about the mountains, about Tilly, and how different it was from Atlanta. Soon the sandwiches were gone, and the conversation lagged. I knew it was time to get to the real conversation, now that she was relaxed.
"I'm glad you feel comfortable here, Sacha. I love this place, and if I'm still living here when the baby comes, I'm sure we could work something out. I'm certainly willing to go to your place most of the time, but I would want our child to know what's it's like, living closer to nature. When he's older, of course."
She was staring at me with a blank expression. Then her cheeks went pink and her mouth tightened. "You're willing?"
Her tone held a warning. Where was this going?
"Yes."
"Honey, you don't have a choice. The child will be living with me. I'm not keen on dragging a newborn or a toddler up here for the weekend, and who says it's a 'he'?"
Damn, she was quick to argue. Pushing her buttons was so easy, I didn't realize I was doing it until it was too late. But now she was pissing me off.
"It's just a figure of speech. I don't care if it's a boy, girl, whatever, as long as it's healthy and safe. Don't get your panties in a wad."
She stood and hefted her purse onto her shoulder. "You know, I came up here wanting to work with you. But your attitude makes it impossible."
"My attitude?" What the hell?
Leaning back in the rocking chair, I placed my booted foot against the deck railing, effectively blocking her from entering the house. "Sit down, Sacha. Let me explain myself."
Her chin jutted out, in a cute pout I didn't dare acknowledge with a smile. Instead, I gestured to her rocking chair with a hand, but she crossed her arms over her bosom and leaned against the railing. "Start talking."
"What I meant was, of course you will have the baby most of the time, especially in the beginning. But I plan to visit every chance I get and would like you to bring him or her up here, when it is suitable. Deal?"
"And who decides when it's 'suitable'?"
"We do. Together."
The turn of her lips indicated she still wasn't satisfied. "Well, you can't show up at my place unannounced. I'll need notice. And I'll text or call you on a regular basis."
Now I stood and took a step closer to her. "That's doable. I wouldn't want to show up unexpectedly and interrupt your love life."
Her eyes went wide at the implication. She dropped her arms, and the chin went out again. "Well, I don't want you bringing your dates on a visit, either. Let's agree to keep our private lives private."
I could smell her scent again and inched closer. "Right. I'd hate to make you jealous by bringing someone else around with me."
Now I was taunting her, but I couldn't help myself. I meant it as a joke, but her narrowed eyes indicated she wasn't amused. I thought maybe some humor might make her see she was being ridiculous. She waved a hand at me in dismissal.
"Jealous? Now you're really fooling yourself."
She wasn't backing away, though she could easily walk around me. There was a challenge in her eyes, and it sent a thrill up my spine. She was daring me to come closer, so I did, until we were inches apart. "I guess I am a fool when it comes to you."
I tentatively touched her cheek. She placed a delicate hand over mine, so I paused, but she didn't push me away. There was a split second of doubt, when my conscience told me to pull back. But the chemicals flooding my veins, and heading straight for my groin, won. Holding back was futile when I wanted to touch her so badly my body ached. Even when she pissed me off, I found her irresistible.
I slid my hand behind her neck and looked at her lips. They were trembling, so I bent down to kiss her.
Her grip on my hand tightened as I deepened the kiss, sliding my tongue across her mouth. When her lips parted to allow me in, I lost control. I wrapped my arm around her, pulling her softness against me.
Her taste was sweet from the ginger ale. Her tongue briefly explored mine, backed by a soft moan. I was carried away on a river of lust, focused on feeling every inch of her, and hoping it was going to be as good as I'd imagined.
That's when Sasha pulled away, pushing against me with both her hands on my chest.
"Wait. We can't do this."
~*~