I don't think I can answer his question. Rafe leans closer, and I tilt my head back so I can keep looking him in the eyes."Did you want me to kiss you?" he asks again, his voice even lower than before. "Do you?"My hand seems to rise on its own, my fingers grazing the thin fabric of his shirt. They finally come to rest on the side of his throat. His skin is so warm, pulsing with life.It's been so long since I had real human contact. And he's so beautiful..."Yes," I hear myself say. Yes, I want this. I want him to make me forget my loneliness and grief for a moment. And I want to help him forget his.He takes his time tilting his face down to mine - so long that I start to wonder if he's simply teasing me. But then his lips brush against mine, and they're warm and soft and they chase every other thought away.His mouth moves gently against mine, but he's not tentative - it's more like he's testing the waters, deliberately drawing it out to see how I respond.And boy, do I resp
- SEVEN WEEKS LATER -Remember everything I said about there being worse things than making a mistake?I may have been wrong about that."Somethin' wrong?" Cynthia asks me, wiping her hands on her apron.I look up from the menus I've been wiping down. "No, no, I'm fine." There's only one table of customers at the moment, which means we've spent most of the last hour cleaning up and readying the diner for the morning shift."Mm-hmm," Cynthia says, pursing her lips at me in that way she does when she doesn't believe a word I'm saying. "Something's going on with you. I can tell.""It's nothing, really," I insist, taking my soapy rag to a patch of crusty ketchup on one of the menus. Nothing I can talk about, anyway."Mm-hmm."I frown down at the stubborn dried ketchup, trying to think about anything else. It doesn't work.Cynthia comes over to stand beside me, nudging me with her hip. "I know you, Edie. As much as anyone in this town knows you. You've been distracted all shift." W
Cynthia's fingers tighten on my arm. She's read the answer on my face. I toss the test down on the table and grab my mug again. The coffee has finally cooled enough to drink, and I need something bracing.Cynthia waits for me to speak first. It's funny - when I asked to come over and do this here, I never expected her to be so restrained. In fact, I'd hoped she'd be her usual, talkative self - it would help get me out of my head. But her supportive silence is doing its job, either way."I'm keeping it," I say. It's funny - up until this moment, up until the words spilled out of my mouth, I wasn't sure what the heck I was going to do. But now I can't imagine doing anything else."Of course," Cynthia says, nodding. She releases my arm and raises her mug to her lips. Her fuchsia lipstick still looks perfect, even after an eight-hour shift.I need to ask her where she buys that, I think. It's odd, the things that run through your head at a time like this.Cynthia shifts in her seat as
It's him. My mystery guy from the woods, the father of the baby I just found out I'm having, is on the cover of Celebrity Spark magazine. How is this even possible?My eyes dart around the headlines posted all over the cover. Finally, my gaze lands on the one I'm searching for - the one with his name:Not-so-model behavior: Raphael Fontaine kicked out of Hollywood hotspot after fight. And the photo certainly makes him look like a criminal - he's being escorted out of a club by two security guards, his shirt is torn open, and he's got the start of a wicked black eye.Can this really be the same guy who was so tender and understanding with me? Who gave me such a beautiful moment out in the woods? I don't know if I can believe it. Maybe the baby hormones are making me hallucinate."Edie?" Cynthia squeezes my arm again. "You're starting to worry me."I blink, drawing my eyes away from his familiar face."That's him." My voice is a croak."Who's him?""That," I say, pointing at the
- ONE WEEK LATER -L.A. is even bigger and more overwhelming than I imagined.Unlike a lot of the people back home, I have some experience in large, metropolitan areas. I grew up in Kansas City, after all. But L.A. is different. It doesn't have the massive downtown full of skyscrapers like I've seen in pictures of New York or Chicago, but it's sprawling and crowded. The traffic is awful, the buildings are square and generic, and the plants and trees are all short and scrubby. I get lost two blocks from the bus station.I end up buying a map from a man on a street corner. He says it shows where a bunch of celebrities live, including several of the Fontaines. After that, it's just a matter of hailing a cab and paying the driver to take me there. I almost bolt when he tells me how expensive the fare is, but I've come this far - there's no backing out now.I lean my forehead against the window as we go, staring at the scenery that passes by. Tall palm trees sway in the breeze against a
If I had any lingering doubts about why I made such a stupid mistake in the first place, they're gone in an instant. At the first touch of his lips to mine, my body goes limp against his, the rush of heat taking over. I'm aware of every place we touch, of every slightest movement of his skin against mine. His lips are demanding and teasing, toying with me. This is a man who knows how to kiss.Somewhere, in the back of my mind, I remember why I'm here. I push gently against his chest until he breaks the kiss."Ready to stop already?" he asks, with an expression that makes my heart skip a beat."Can we go inside?" I ask again. "Into the house?"He chuckles, and the sound makes me tingle all the way down to my toes. "If you insist. After last time, I didn't think you minded being outside."He's making me blush on purpose, I know it. I was shameless the last time we met. Caught up in the moment. I don't behave like that normally, and he must know that.I follow him up the palm-lined
I take a deep breath. If I don't say this now, I'll never get it out."I'm - "My words are cut off by the sudden buzzing of Rafe's cell phone in his pocket.He mumbles something under his breath and shoves his hand into his shorts, fumbling around until the ringing stops. Then he leans forward again. "Where were we?"My breath catches in the moment before his lips touch mine. I know I should say something, should push him away, but I'm paralyzed. I'm pulled to him, and I don't have the strength to fight it.Unbidden, some old words of my mom's pop into my head: Learn to tell the difference between lust and love, honey, and you'll save yourself a lot of trouble. She never was good at following her own advice, but maybe that's why it's stuck with me all these years.There's obviously no question that this is lust, in its purest and rawest form, but for the life of me, I can't resist it. I can see the trouble coming at me full speed, but I'm caught like a deer in the headlights.A
Any thought I had of paying for my own clothes goes out the window as soon as I glance at a tag in La Bella Boutique. I was expecting the prices to be double or triple those of what nice clothes might cost back home. Instead, it's more like five or six times as much. I'm not sure I even have enough in my debit account to buy a single dress.Especially when you won't be able to fit in that dress in a few months, I remind myself.I refuse help from the salesgirl when she approaches me. Instead, I wander through the racks, eyeing the dresses around me. Some are simple and elegant, others shimmery and bright. Some have classic designs, others are what I can only assume are the hot new fashions. I have a couple of "nicer" dresses back home - things to wear to the occasional wedding or funeral I find myself attending - but nothing that looks like anything in this store.And even if I knew what I liked, I have no idea what I'm expected to wear to a Hollywood party. How formal is this thing
I learn a few things in the ride to the hospital: first, that we're somewhere in southern Idaho. Second, that Rafe was in Las Vegas when Matt contacted him to tell him he had me."Don't ask me about Vegas, please," Rafe begs me. "I haven't exactly been coping well since you left me. And for the love of God, don't read any of the tabloids that come out in the next week."And I'm okay with not knowing. This time.He stays with me at the hospital, holding my hand the entire time. Now that the immediate danger has passed and I've calmed down a little, I'm not as worried about the baby. I can't explain how I know, but I sense that he or she is still safe and sound inside me. Just perhaps a little stunned by the whole ordeal.You're okay, sweet one, aren't you?Rafe isn't nearly as confident. His grip on my hand is like iron, and he's gone at least two shades paler since we entered the hospital. Like the last time, he barks at both the doctors and the nurses, demanding to know why we ar
Rafe presses his mouth against my hair. My temple. My ear. My cheek. He rains kisses down on me - soft, gentle kisses that are sweet enough to make me forget the pain for a moment.And then I remember where we are."Where is he?" I ask. "Where did he go?" I lift my head, and for the first time since leaving the trunk, I look around. We appear to be at some sort of rest stop, only judging by the condition of this place, it's been out of use for some time. The building is run down, the roof partially caved in on the right side. The single vending machine has been smashed open, and there's not a single snack left inside. The parking lot is overgrown with weeds."He took off walking down the highway," Rafe says. "But he won't get far. I have a few friends waiting for him.""Friends?""Let's just say a local motorcycle gang owes me a favor from a few years ago."I lean back, looking up at him. As usual, his response brings up more questions than answers. But I try to focus on the most
"You fucking bastard," Rafe says. His back is rigid, his hands clenched. In the back waistband of his jeans I see the handle of a gun, and I'm both shocked and relieved to see that he has one, too. But it does him no good tucked away like that. If he moves a muscle, Matt might shoot him where he stands."I tried to do this the nice way," Matt says, "but you wouldn't listen to reason.""What do you want?" Rafe asks. "More money?"Matt shakes his head. "No. We're past that.""Then why the hell won't you leave me alone?""Because you fucked me over. And when you fuck me over, I fuck you over."The panic is threatening to take over me again. Rafe is in trouble. Matt clearly has no intention of negotiating anything. If anything, it's beginning to sound like he lured Rafe out here to murder him. I can't let that happen - but what can I do, bound and gagged like this?I don't have many options. But all Rafe needs is for Matt to be distracted for a second or two - just enough time to re
I wake to a splitting headache and shooting pains up and down my arms.At first, I don't remember what happened to me. And I don't understand why I can't move my body properly. Everything aches, but there's noticeably sharper pain at my wrist and ankles, as well as running from my hands all the way up to my shoulders.My arms are trapped behind my back, I notice as I twist slightly. That's why they hurt so much. I try to move them, but I find that my wrists are tied. So are my ankles.That's when I remember everything - the creeping sensation in the parking lot, the sudden appearance of Rafe's sketchy friend, the way he grabbed me and held something over my mouth.He chloroformed me.Panic shoots though my body - first for myself, for the briefest of seconds, and then for my baby.Oh my God, my baby.I try to scream, but there's a gag in my mouth and the sound is muffled. Wherever I am, it's too dark to see anything. I writhe, trying to loosen the bonds around my wrists and ankl
Very quickly, my life falls into a pattern again - work, sleep, chores around the house, errands. After the first week, people seem to realize that I'm not on the cusp of a breakdown, and many of them begin to acknowledge the baby. Men hold doors open for me, women ask how I'm feeling, and I receive a couple of anonymous gifts on my doorstep - a bundle of hand-me-down baby clothes, tied up in a soft blanket, and a few care-worn books about pregnancy and baby care. I feel a tinge of heartache at the sight of the books - they remind me of the ones on Rafe's desk - so I set them aside for the time being. There's still plenty of time to come back to them later.See? I tell myself on the ninth day after my return. You don't need him. You already have all of the support you need right here. I rub my hand across my softly rounded belly. We'll make it, sweet one. One way or another.I can almost believe that, at least when I'm awake. Every morning, when I fall into my bed to sleep, I dream o
- THREE DAYS LATER - This is how air is supposed to smell. Funny, that that's the first thing I notice when I step outside my door. I'd forgotten what fresh, clean air smells like. How it feels on my skin. If I close my eyes, I can pick out all the pieces of it - the faint scent of spruce, the hint of moisture that means we'll have rain sometime during the night, the crisp coolness the wind picks up in its trip across the valley.I knew I missed home, but now I wonder how I ever survived away from it for so long. There's a peacefulness here, a wildness that makes me feel like everything is going to be all right.Some of the time, anyway.Now I just have to stop missing Rafe. There's a familiar pang of loss in my stomach, but I ignore it and head to work. I feel like I'm doing that a lot these days – shoving down the feelings I don't know how to deal with right now.Even the Dandelion Diner looks more cheerful than I remember. The fluorescent lights on the sign welcome me back wit
I wait until the middle of the night to leave. I know he deserves better, but I don't trust myself to actually walk away if I have to do it face-to-face.Carefully, I pull away from the circle of his arms. His breathing is steady and deep, and he hardly even stirs as I quietly slip out of bed. I gather my few things and quickly dress. I've been debating whether or not to leave him a note, to tell him where I've gone and why. It feels less cowardly, somehow, to write him a message, even if I'm still sneaking away while he's asleep.I pause next to the bed, looking down at him. He looks so big and strong, even when he's asleep, but there's a slight softness about him, too. It's that softness that makes my heart ache now.Against my better judgment, I lean down over him, brushing my lips softly against his brow."Goodbye," I whisper.Then I sneak quietly out the bedroom door.I make it about ten paces before I first have to fight the urge to turn back. But I place my hand on my bell
I stumble into one of the downstairs bathrooms, my stomach heaving. But when I bend over the toilet, nothing comes up.It actually explains a lot, the drugs. It explains why Rafe has been so secretive about who he is outside of the time he spends with me. And why he got so upset that I'd researched him online - maybe one of his arrests was drug related, or maybe his habit was openly discussed in the tabloids. Why didn't Cynthia warn me about that? Why didn't Ashlyn?It also may explain the mysterious man who keeps showing up where Rafe is. What if he's Rafe's dealer? He certainly looked the part. Or worse - what if Rafe is his dealer? Maybe acting and modeling isn't wild or dangerous enough for Rafe and he started a little side business just to entertain himself.I understand now why he's been so closed-mouthed about all of this. He knew it would be a deal-breaker, that I'd never agree to raise my baby around someone actively involved with drugs.I'm so sorry, sweet one, I think. I
This is dangerous. I need to take care of myself - need to guard myself against him somehow. But how? He can completely undo me with a single touch.When we reach Rafe's house, I'm still a little light-headed. Hot and heavy sex will do that to you. As I try to clear the brain fog, Rafe puts a warm, steady hand on my waist."I'm going to go hop in the shower," he says. "Care to join me?"It will be more than a shower, I know."I'm going to go grab a glass of water first," I say. "I'll join you in a minute."He dips his head and bites me right where my neck meets my shoulder. I gasp in pleasure, and he releases me with a devilish grin on his face. He wants to make sure I'm still aching for him before he walks away.It's on wobbly legs that I make my way to the kitchen. I grab a glass of water and fill it at the faucet, wondering why I can't seem to escape this complicated mess. As I wait for my glass to fill, I look down at my belly. I spread my fingers and press my hand against it