Chapter 36
Cliff
fter two weeks, the girls are out of school for holiday break. By the time IA get home from the bakery every afternoon, stuffed animals are strewn all over the living room, the TV is blaring, and bits of snack crumbs litter the coffee table. But the house is always empty.
I drop off my wallet and keys and cross over to Bird & Breakfast, where the real party is. Brittany sits at the breakfast nook with a Christmas coloring book. Lisa is across from her with markers of her own. Rocket lies on the floor at their feet. I grab his leash and click my tongue. The inn is full these days, and Michelle is always busy, so I imagine he hasn’t been walked in a few hours.
Rocket trots to me in good spirits. I scratch behind his ear. A month ago, he might have turned the other cheek, but he leans into my palm now.
I can even say, “Stay,” and he’ll halt as I clip him into his leash.
After a chilly walk around the block, I give him a treat and start the coffeepot before beginning the search for my busy woman.
I pass under the collection of Thomas Kinkade holiday cards hanging along the kitchen doorjamb, walking down the hall and back toward Michelle’s bedroom. Emily flips through a Seventeen magazine on her bed, where Michelle notably isn’t. She lies on her stomach, her feet kicked up in the air. A music video for Chumbawamba’s “Tubthumping” plays on the TV.
“Where’s Michelle?” I ask.
Emily shrugs, mumbling, “She’s fixing a room, I think.”
“Thanks.” I turn to leave but grab the doorway and pull myself back in.
“Wait, where’s Josh?”
Emily’s back stiffens, her feet kicking a bit harder. “Working.”
“And you’re not sitting on his counter?”
“We don’t have to be tied at the hip,” she shoots back to me.
I raise my hands. “Singing a different tune than two months ago, but, hey, not my business.” I rap my knuckles on the doorway, taking one last look at the TV. “Have fun burning your eyes out.”
“Whatever.”
I lift my eyebrows and chuckle. “What’s with the attitude?”
Emily’s been crankier lately, especially with mentions of Josh. I was starting to like the guy too. He gave me a Billy Joel CD as an early Christmas gift, and I can’t fault a Billy fan.
“Nothing,” she murmurs, nonchalantly adding, “I’m just PMSing, I guess.”
“Need anything? I can go on a tampon run.”
For some reason, that has her slumping more. “No. Thanks,” she mumbles.
Emily doesn’t normally get embarrassed about that stuff around me, but it’s been the season for changes with her, so I’m not gonna question it.
“All right, kiddo. Well, cheer up.”
“Thanks, Dad.”
I cross through the foyer and ascend the stairwell to the second floor.
“Marco!” I call.
I hear Michelle’s airy laugh from a room down the hall. I grin, following the sound to the last room on the right. Michelle is halfway in the closet, hanging up a new robe and wiping out the wrinkles with her palms. I knock
on the threshold.
“Marco?” I ask again.
“Polo,” she answers.
I walk through, kicking the door closed behind me. I cross the room, wrap my arms around her waist from behind, and bury myself into the crook of her neck. This is the highlight of every afternoon. The new ability to touch Michelle whenever I want—as long as it’s in private, away from prying eyes —is my new obsession.
I place kiss after kiss up the column of her throat. I can feel her pulse against my lips. She smells like amber and sugar. My favorite smells.
“Hey.”
“Hi.” I can’t see her face, but it sounds like she’s smiling.
I purse my lips behind her ear and murmur, “How was your day?”
“Busy,” she says on a breath.
“Busy how?”
“Lots of check-ins. The days feel like they’re blurring together.” She exhales and adjusts the hanger that doesn’t need adjusting before dropping her hands to her sides.
She looks a little exhausted. I don’t blame her. It’s too soon before she moves back to Seattle. Every day feels like the sands of time slipping through my fingers, and I can’t catch it fast enough. After Thanksgiving, our situation has felt both better and worse. Better because we’re together. Worse because we’ve made our situation impossible to win. We were friends, parting ways one month ago, and now, she’s a woman I love, leaving Copper Run. Again.
“They’ll blur together, and the next thing you know, you’ll be working your new, fancy executive job.”
She rolls her head to the opposite shoulder.
“I’ll be happy to no longer be working two jobs.”
I scoff. “No, you won’t. You love it.”
She laughs and nods to herself.
I kiss her neck. “You workaholic, you.”
Honestly, I’m terrified of what will happen after the holidays when this woman moves across the country, back to her old life. But I’m not here to make it worse than it already is. Michelle worked hard to be where she’s at in Seattle. And I’m just some baker from a small town in Vermont.
She twists in my arms, turning around to wrap her hands behind my neck.
She opens her mouth to say something, then closes it.
She’s the loudest thinker I’ve ever met.
Michelle smiles, but it’s a little weaker than I want. She feels bad for leaving, and I simply cannot have that.
I tilt her chin up, and her head lolls to the side. She has that defiant look
about her. I kiss it away.
“We’re gonna make it work, okay?”
“How?”
“Hmm,” I muse, pulling her closer. “Well, because you’re a wonderful, stubborn woman, and I’m the kind of man who will pay astronomical phone bills to reach you.” I grin down at her. “So, how can I help?”
“With what?”
“Anything. To make you a little less stressed.”
She snorts. “Coffee?”
“It’s already brewing.”
“Well … Rocket hasn’t been out.”
“Just finished doing that too.”
Her head jerks back, and a slow grin spreads across her face. “You did all
that?”
I shrug. “Yeah.”
“Why are you so irritating?”
“Gonna be honest—not the reaction I expected.”
She chews her bottom lip and shakes her head. “You are. You’re …” She lightly beats a fist against my chest and sighs.
I stroke her back. “Well, since I’m irritating already, I can irritate you in some more fun ways.”
The little crease in the center of her brow slowly relaxes, and a small twitch at the edge of her lips appears instead.
She holds back laughter. “You’re ridiculous.”
I lean down, my words shifting the small strands of hair hanging in her face as I whisper, “Would you like me to irritate you, Michelle?”
“Cliff …” she says, the word fading off.
It’s as if she’s debating this, but I know she’s already made up her mind. I can tell in the way her heart rate picks up. How her fingers stroke along the back of my neck.
I tuck a piece of hair behind her ear. My hand slides from her back, over her ribs, and over the outside of her shirt. The satin fabric is thin. When I ghost the back of my fingers over her, her nipples harden underneath. I pinch one between my index and middle finger knuckles. Her hand snakes down my stomach to the bulge straining against my zipper.
I kiss behind her ear, using my other hand to dip into her hair, exhaling out, “You’re so beautiful.”
Her hand cups the outside of my jeans, and I hiss in a breath.
She strokes slow movements with her palm. “Keep talking.”
It’s funny; I’ve always been a talker in the bedroom. I can’t help myself.
But this is new for Michelle, and now, it’s all she wants. I’m not complaining.
I run a thumb over her jawline, burying my nose in her hair, and murmur into her ear, “What do you want me to do? Want me to touch you here?” I slide my hand down to her jeans, tucking the top button through its hold. I pull the zipper, the hiss of it a harsh sound in the room’s silence. “Want me to
taste here?” I trail my fingers below the hem of her underwear.
She’s slick between my fingers, and suddenly, I’m hard as a rock.
She nods against my shoulder, lowering her chin into the dip of my collarbone. “Please,” she whines.
“I love it when you beg,” I groan. “I love —”
There’s a knock at the door, and both our heads swing back.
“Michelle?” It’s Emily.
Shit.
My erection is dead immediately. Michelle zips up her pants, buttoning them back. My eyebrows rise in question. Emily can’t know I’m in here.
We’ve been trying to keep our relationship a secret from my girls, especially while we try to figure it out for ourselves. There’s no point in breaking their hearts too.
I look around, but Michelle pushes me against the wall beside the door and out of sight. She slaps her palm over my mouth before cracking the door open enough to see Emily.
“Hi. Sorry. Cleaning up,” Michelle says. “The guest left, and … well, I don’t want to get into it.”
“Ew,” Emily sneers, and I can picture the little scrunch in her nose.
“Something gross?”
“Yeah,” Michelle answers, letting the word drag.
I twist against Michelle’s palm to look at her. I kinda like her hand over my lips. I open my mouth against her palm, tracing a small line with my tongue between the crease of two fingers. She grips my mouth harder.
“It might be ten more minutes or so,” Michelle tells her.
I gently nip her finger between my teeth.
“Twenty,” she corrects.
“Oh. Okay.” Emily’s words fade out.
Instantly, my dad alarms blare at Emily’s sullen, disappointed tone. I
tense. So does Michelle.
“Why?” Michelle asks. “What’s wrong?”
“I wanted to talk to you about something. It’s important.”
My stomach drops. She sounds nervous. Maybe even scared. I turn my head to look at Michelle, but, smart woman that she is, she doesn’t look back.
“Okay. Well, hey, let me wrap up this room in five, and we’ll talk.”
“I thought you said it would take twenty.”
“I overestimated.”
Even with my eyebrows furrowed in concern, I weakly smile against Michelle’s palm. Why does this feel so easy? My daughter confiding in her.
Make-out sessions in guest rooms.
Just the thought of her leaving makes my nerves tighten everywhere. My heart feels erratic. I wish we had more time. I wish she could stay. I wish we didn’t live on opposite sides of the country, living opposite lives.
I notice that Emily hasn’t left. She stands quietly outside the door.
“Actually, can I … can I talk to you now?” she asks Michelle.
“Oh,” Michelle says, her eyebrows rising in surprise. “The room is —”
“I don’t care how messy it is,” Emily interrupts. “I’m really nervous right now. I can’t keep it to myself anymore.”
“Em—”
She interrupts again, this time shakier, “Please?”
Michelle is at a loss for words.
Emily fills the blank space for her. “I think I might be pregnant.”
