BUCKED:The Mountain Man’s Babies(15)
She nods. “I hitchhiked here. I know,” she says, shaking her head. “It was stupid, but I didn’t know what else to do. How to get to you.”
Taking her hand, I draw her inside, needing to understand exactly what brought her here.
Her hand is gloved, but it’s still cold. I try to picture this sweet thing, so incredibly pregnant, riding in a stranger’s truck.
Only desperation would drive a woman to do such a thing.
“Rosie, you’ve gotta warm up.”
She nods, her eyes brimming with tears. I press my thumb beneath her eyes, and wipe them away, hating to see her upset, wanting to understand her story.
“Why did you leave all those months ago?” Of course what I really want to know is if this baby is mine.
But dammit, one look at this broken woman and I don’t give a fuck. I will do anything for her and this child. I knew it the moment I met her, she was mine.
She presses her lips together, her hair loose around her shoulders, and her chin quivering.
“Shhh, it’s okay, darling.”
Those words send a flood of tears from her eyes. “Do you have a bathroom I could use?” she asks. “I’m just a mess. I just need a second.”
My jaw tenses. “Last time you went to the bathroom, you disappeared.”
She nods. “I know. You have no reason to trust me, Buck.”
“It’s okay,” I tell her, wanting her to calm down so I can hear the whole story. “You’re here now, and the bathroom is right through that door.”
She sniffles, but turns to the bathroom. I run my hands through my hair. What the hell? This was the last thing I expected.
Clearly, she’s a mess, worked up and scared. If I want her to open up and explain what happened after she left me, I need to help her relax. Striding to the fireplace, I add a few logs, add some kindling and strike a match.
The fire begins to roar quickly and I head to the kitchen to start the teakettle. Girls like tea, right? Or maybe coffee. I do both. Put the kettle on a burner and brew a pot of coffee. Scouring my cupboard, I look for decent breakfast food for a pregnant woman who has been hitchhiking for God knows how long.
I find a package of powdered donuts– not exactly gourmet, but better than cold cereal. In the fridge I have half a cantaloupe, and I slice it, setting it out as well.
Just as the kettle begins to whistle, Rosie walks out the bathroom. She isn’t crying anymore, so that’s something. But the moment I offer her something to drink, a whole new flood of tears escapes.
“Fuck, what did I do now?”
“Nothing,” she says, adamant. “You did nothing wrong.”
“Well, do you want to sit down and tell me your story? I’m guessing you’re hungry.” My eyes drop to her belly, and she must notice, because her hands cover her stomach.
She nods, and unbuttons her coat. After taking it off, she drapes it across the back of the stool at the island where we’re standing.
Her round belly gets my cock hard, instantly, and I lean against the counter to hide how fucking turned on I am.
“Coffee? Tea?”
“Coffee,” she says. “With cream.”
“And sugar,” I finish, remembering our meal at the diner. Not ashamed one fucking bit for the fact that I memorized our encounter and have been replaying it in my mind for months. Rosie is mine. Rosie is back.
I hand her a cup, and pour one for myself too. We sit opposite one another, and I watch her wrestle with something in her mind.
Finally she speaks, and I mentally vow to keep my mouth shut until she is through.
“Those men, Victor and his partner, they work for my uncle. I’d run away a few days earlier, stopped in this town and was broke. Your mom offered me a job, and I took it, not thinking I’d be found. But I was as you so clearly witnessed.”
“Why did you run in the first place?”
Her face is twisted, and it’s clear the memory pains her, but I’ve got to understand.
“He wanted to sell me.”
I nearly choke on my coffee. “Sell you?”
She takes a deep breath, and raises her chin so her eyes meet mine. “I wasn’t honest with you, Buck, when we met.”
My hands grip the mug tight. “How so?” I manage to ask.
“In the bathroom, remember, I told you I wasn’t a virgin?”
In a flash I’m back there with her, her legs wrapped around my waist, her back against the door, her tits in my mouth. Damn, this woman makes my skin hot and my cock pulse.
“Well I lied,” she says. “I was a virgin. That’s why my uncle thought he could get a good price if he sold me as a bride to a man in Russia. I couldn’t do that. So I ran away. And I thought – foolishly – that if I was used then my uncle would let me go, let me be free.” She covers her face.