~ Andrea

“It seems like there’s nothing we can do but stay here.” I rub my arms as I look out the window at the pouring rain that we just got out of.

We were barely halfway through our trip when the downpour began and it was so bad, Clay and I decided to stop at the nearest town, which happened to be Drummond. Thankfully, we were able to find a cozy and even empty bed and breakfast, unoccupied except for the family who owned it. Clay booked all of the rooms just to make sure there wouldn’t be any strangers that could scare Rose and so we practically have the whole house to ourselves.

Why then do we have to share one room?

I look over my shoulder at Clay, who’s sitting in front of the desk, busy with his laptop. Rose, on the other hand, is sitting on the bed with her blanket wrapped around her, playing with her ponies.

It was she who begged me to share the room. Maybe she’s scared of the downpour, which frankly feels like a storm even though neither Clay and I have heard of one, or maybe she just doesn’t feel comfortable with the house. While it is a house, it is designed like an inn, after all. Plus, she saw the strangers when we checked in.

Whatever the reason, Rose begged me to stay in the same room and when I told her she could just sleep with me in another room, she refused, saying she wanted to be with Clay, too. She wouldn’t even consider having Clay right across the hall with doors open.

I wonder what’s come over her.

In the end, I gave in, too tired to argue with a child. That doesn’t mean I’m okay with the situation, though, especially not after what Clay said.

I can give you some of the pleasure, too.

Try as I might, I can’t seem to cast those words out of my head. Worse, each time they play in my head, they’re like a spell, conjuring images of Clay kissing me, holding me, on top of me, his naked body moving against my own.

Just those images are enough to make my heart race and my blood run hot and so I try to dispel them as quickly as I can.

Well, that’s going to be more difficult if he’s in the bed next to mine. Maybe I’ll move to another room after Rose falls asleep?

But what if Rose has another nightmare?

I shake my head. I’ll simply insist on sleeping on the side of the bed furthest away from Clay and then close my eyes and go right to sleep, not thinking of him or stealing any glances of him throughout the night.

He better not wake me up.

---

I wake up to the sound of something shattering.

Quickly, I sit up and turn on the lamp beside me, finding Clay already out of bed and walking across the room to an open window. After glancing at Rose to make sure she’s still asleep, I toss the covers aside and follow him.

“Stop,” Clay tells me, stretching an arm. “You might step on the glass.”

As I look, I realize that the vase on the table is already on the floor in pieces. So that was what caused that shattering sound. Probably a strong wind blew the wooden shutters open and then knocked the vase off.

He goes towards the window, tiptoeing around the pieces of glass to close it before the wind breaks anything else or blows more rain into the room and gets us all wet while I kneel down and start picking the shards of glass before Rose wakes up and steps on one of them.

I do it carefully, picking the shards one at a time, going after the large ones first, and then putting them on my other hand, which is covered by the hem of my shirt.

After fixing the window, Clay kneels next to me, helping me.

“What a mess.”

“Should we wake up the owners?” I ask him, picking up another shard.

He shakes his head. “This isn’t a hotel, Andrea. People aren’t up 24 hours and it’s almost one in the morning. Besides, the window is closed again and it should stay closed this time. Don’t you think it’s too much to wake them over one broken vase?”

Clay’s right.

“We can just tell them about it later,” he adds.

“Should we transfer to another room then?” I ask, adding another shard to my pile. “You have the keys to the other rooms, don’t you?”

He nods. “But I don’t want to wake Rose. We can transfer later if we have to stay another night. We’ll just have to make sure she doesn’t go to this side of the room after she wakes up in case we don’t get all the shards.”

“Okay.”

I say there’s a pretty good chance we won’t get all of the shards, some of them too tiny and yet, still sharp.

Speaking of sharp, I suddenly prick my finger on one.

“Ouch.”

Just like that, the whole pile on my shirt falls back to the floor and I sit down, staring at the pad of my pointer finger that has a bead of blood in the middle of it.

Shit.

Before I can think of what to do, Clay grabs my hand. In the next moment, my finger is in his mouth and all I can do is stare at him with my eyes wide, my cheeks blushing.

What the hell is he doing?

As if the gesture isn’t embarrassing enough, Clay seems to be enjoying sucking on my finger, too, his eyes narrowed as his tongue rubs against my skin. I feel a jolt of pleasure as well, heat spreading from his mouth to my palms to my arms and all the way throughout my body like molten lava.

I can give you some of the pleasure, too.

Recovering my senses, I yank my finger away.

“What are you, a vampire?” I rub my wet finger against my shirt.

“Sorry,” Clay mumbles, wiping his lips with the back of his hand. “I was just trying to stop the bleeding.”

Is he…blushing, too?

“That’s no way to do it,” I scold him.

“It’s stopped, hasn’t it?”

I look at my finger. “Yes, but what if it’s become infected?”

He snorts. “I’ve never heard of wounds becoming infected by another person’s saliva.”

Neither have I. Even so…

“You could have given me something.”

“Something?”

Pleasure.

No, something else. “Like a virus. Or I could have given you something.”

Clay scratches his nape. “If you could pass something on to me, I think I would have already gotten it when you kissed me. I’d say that’s a more effective means of transmitting diseases.”

I blush. Didn’t I tell him to forget about that?

I stand up. “I’ll go bandage it in the bathroom. Why don’t you just arrange some chairs so that Rose can’t go in that area and then we’ll ask the owners to clean it up later on?”

“Okay.”

I go to the bathroom, my heart still pounding.

Calm down, Andrea. It was just an accident.

Yes. An accident, just like the broken vase.

---

“We are so sorry,” Mrs. Patterson, one of the owners, apologizes as she cleans up the shards. “I should have locked that window myself. There’s a special technique, you see, since it’s decades old like everything else in this house.”

“No worries,” I say, hiding my bandaged finger behind me. “No one expected the wind to be this strong. Or is it always like this around here?”

“Not always,” Mrs. Patterson answers. “We get some wind and rain at this time of year, just before the weather turns cold and the snow starts falling but they’re usually not this strong.”

“I see.”

“It’s your first time here in Montana?” she asks.

“Yes,” I tell her. “We’re on our way to Seattle.”

“Well, you’re nearly there. But it’s best to wait until the rain stops. The roads are dangerous enough when they’re dry, even more treacherous when they’re wet.”

I nod, agreeing with her. As much as I want us to continue, it’s still raining, not as much as yesterday, but still quite hard so it’s best for us to stay here for another night. Hopefully, by tomorrow, the weather will be better.

“By the way, would you know if there are any toy stores or craft stores near here?” I ask, looking out the window.

“Nope. There isn’t much around here. If we need anything, we usually drive to Missoula. It’s about forty-five minutes away.”

“I see.”

That’s a problem. I don’t have the confidence to drive that far in this rain and I don’t want to ask Clay to do it, either.

“Do you, by chance, have any small wooden ponies or knitted ponies or anything with ponies that I can buy?” I ask her, touching my chin.

“Ponies?” Mrs. Patterson chuckles. “What do you need them for?”

“For Rose, that little girl with us.”

I would have pointed to her but she’s already in another room with Clay.

“Ah. So Rose is her name, is it? I have a granddaughter, too. Her name is Jessica. She’s seven.”

That makes her close to Rose’s age.

“I don’t think she’s got any toy ponies, though,” Mrs. Patterson says. “I don’t think she likes them. She more of likes to play outside. She doesn’t even have dolls.”

“I see.”

What do I do then? Tell Rose I’ll just buy her two ponies when we reach Seattle? I’m sure there’s plenty there. But then I promised one pony for every place we stopped.

Then again, we didn’t intend to stop here. Surely, she’ll understand.

Or will she?

“Is she your daughter?” Mrs. Patterson asks.

I raise an eyebrow at her. “What?”

“Is Rose your daughter? I have to say, though, she doesn’t look like you.”

I shake my head. “No, she isn’t.”

“Then she’s that man’s daughter?”

“Yes.”

“And you are?”

I pause. “His cousin.”

“I see.”

She doesn’t seem convinced, though.

Well, I won’t convince her. In fact, I think this conversation has gone long enough.

“Thank you for all the information,” I tell her before leaving the room.

I find Clay and Rose in the next room, Clay just having finished his shower and Rose looking out the window, seemingly watching the rain.

“I think I like that room better,” Clay says, drying his hair with a towel. “But this isn’t so bad.”

No, it’s not. It’s a little bit smaller but its cozier, more charming and the beds are farther apart, two armchairs and a floor lamp between them. After last night, I’m even more wary about sharing a room with Clay.

“I have a problem,” I tell him, sitting on one of the chairs. “I don’t know where to get a pony in this weather.”

“Isn’t there one on display we can buy?”

“I already asked that.”

“Do you want me to find one?”

“No.” I shake my head. “The reason we stopped by here is so that we can all stay safe and dry.”

Clay shrugs, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Well, maybe Rose will understand.”

“I hope so.” I sigh. “And one more thing.”

“What?”

“I’ve told Mrs. Patterson you’re my cousin, just to save explanations.”

“Okay.” He takes the towel off his head. “That might be a problem.”

I give him a puzzled look. “Why?”

“Because I told Mr. Patterson earlier that you were my fiancée.”

“Fiancée?” I gape.

“To save explanations,” Clay says, standing up. “Besides, cousins don’t usually sleep in the same room, not when they have the whole house to themselves. That would be even more weird.”

I frown. He’s right. I should have said something else. I just didn’t want to say fiancé. Even if it’s just pretend, I don’t want to be in a romantic relationship with Clay.

Because you’re scared it might get real?

Oh, shut up.

I lean back on the armchair and sigh. “They divided and conquered, huh? It’s okay. Mrs. Patterson didn’t believe me, anyway.”

“Because we look more like lovers?” Clay suggests.

I ignore him, frowning as I get out of the chair. I go to Rose, standing next to her.

I thought she was just watching the rain but as soon as I’m beside her, I realize she’s watching something else – a little girl playing in the garden down below, wearing a red raincoat and boots and jumping on the puddles.

“That must be Jessica, Mrs. Patterson’s granddaughter,” I tell Rose.

She loves to play outside, alright.

“Jessica,” Rose repeats softly.

Has she been watching the other girl all this time?

I kneel beside Rose. “Would you like to meet her?”

She looks at me. “Can I play with her?”

I blink. Rose wants to play with another girl?

I glance at Clay, who seems to have been watching us, listening in.

“I don’t see the problem,” he says as he approaches the window. “Except for the fact that Rose doesn’t have a raincoat or boots.”

“Yup. We definitely weren’t expecting rain.”

“Please?” Rose begs.

I sigh. I wish the weather didn’t have to be like this. Even so, how can we deny her something we’ve been wanting for her to do for some time? Playing with another child won’t only help her get over her father’s death. It could also help her recover from her phobia. Sure, one child is far from a crowd, but it’s a step in the right direction. If Rose can open up to someone else, if she can learn to trust someone else, it’s a start.

I look at Clay. “Well?”

He touches his chin. “I might have an idea.”

---

“Your parka looks good on Rose,” I tell Clay minutes later as we stand just outside the back door of the bed and breakfast, watching Rose play with Jessica.

Thankfully, Jessica had no qualms about playing with Rose so the two of them seem to be having fun now. The rain seems to have subsided, too, which is good because Rose doesn’t have any boots, just her sneakers, which I figured we could have washed later.

“Who would have thought Rose would make her first friend here,” Clay says, smiling. “Maybe it’s a good thing we stopped by here, after all.”

I shrug. Maybe. Who knows? I don’t even know what fate is planning, anymore.

“Rose, keep your hood on, okay?” I shout out to her as I notice her hood has fallen off again.

It’s simply too big to stay on her head.

“But it keeps falling off,” she whines.

“Just put it back on so you don’t get sick,” I tell her.

She frowns but obeys.

Beside me, Clay chuckles.

“What?” I look at him.

“Nothing.” He shrugs. “Just that you sound like a mother.”

It’s my turn to frown. “Very funny.”

“What? It’s a compliment if anything.”

He’s teasing me again.

“You know; I think one person watching Rose is enough.” I turn on my heel. “I’ll go…”

“Running away again?”

Shit. “I’m not running away.”

“Then stay.”

“I’m just…”

Just then, I feel a hand on my arm, pulling me.

“Come play with us, Andrea,” Rose says.

“No.” I shake my head. “I think you and Jessica are having plenty of fun among yourselves.”

“Oh, come on.” Clay steps under the rain. “You’re not scared of the rain, are you?”

I glare at him. “I thought we were trying to stay safe and dry.”

“We are safe.” He raises his arms. “There’s no harm getting a little wet.”

I sigh, putting the hood of my sweater on. “Fine.”

I step under the rain and Rose, Jessica, Clay and I form a circle, skipping and dancing under the rain.

“Well?” Clay asks. “Isn’t this fun?”

I have to admit it is, even if I’m getting wet. There’s just something about the rain that makes you feel like a child again. Besides, I always loved how rain could wash the dirt away and other bad things. It cleanses, refreshes, renews.

It makes you feel like starting all over again with Clay?

I glance at Clay, who is even wetter than I am since he’s only wearing a shirt, raindrops trickling down the sides of his face and the tips of his hair, and yet, he seems to be having even more fun. For a moment, I see not the CEO or Rose’s father but the young man I once knew. Once, too, he walked under the rain, lending me his jacket so I wouldn’t get wet.

He loved me once and I can see in his eyes and hear in his voice that he still does.

Can we still go back to the way things were? Can our love sprout anew like a seed after the rain? Or is our love one of the things that have been washed away?

Was it all just a dream?