With that heaviness off Emerson’s shoulders, she and Bash had made the effort to see each other every minute they could. Sometimes he came to Saratoga after a shift, but most of the time, she preferred to go to the trailer park. It felt homier there, and there was more to do. More people to see. Her friends were there. It was endless barbecues, hikes, and swimming at Bear Trap Falls. The trailer park also meant 1010, watching the baby mice grow, and making sure Nards and Nipples had good food to eat. And above all, the trailer park meant Bash could be himself. And damn, she loved when her man let her see the animal side of him. Heavy-footed, beastly-eyed, lumbering, muscled-up, loyal as hell bear shifter with a growl in his throat for every emotion. In town, he had to hide his power, hide his nature, but in the woods of Damon’s mountains, he was free to be his perfect self. It made her love the trailer park even more.
Mornings meant breakfast with Bash and sweet kisses before he left with his crew for the landing. Days were spent with him working on the job site and her editing in the comfort of his office or hanging out with Audrey when she had a day off from Moosey’s. Evenings were split. Sometimes they spent time with the crew, and sometimes Bash wanted her all to himself. And nights…nights were her favorite time of day because Bash didn’t like sleeping away from her. He would get ready for bed, curl her up against his stomach, and talk to her until she fell asleep, warm and safe beside him.
Everything had fallen right into place…
Until today.
Emerson pulled to a stop right before she reached the newly painted Boarland Mobile Park sign and shook her head. She couldn’t do this.
Another deep ache took her stomach, and she doubled over, gripping the steering wheel as her eyes burned with tears. She’d done everything right, charted her ovulation down to an exact science with Dr. Mallory, and she and Bash had started trying for a baby right on the day Dr. Mallory had said would be best. But she’d taken multiple pregnancy tests this morning, and they’d all said the same thing. Not pregnant.
Her body was like clockwork, and now, just as she’d feared, her boobs were tender, and she was feeling those deep cramps that said she would start her period any second.
How was she going to tell Bash? He would be wrecked, and she could barely hold her own disappointment at bay. Just the thought of seeing him hurt over her failure felt like lashes against her insides.
Heartbroken, she rested her forehead against the steering wheel of her little silver Toyota Corolla and let off a pitiful sob.
When the passenger side door opened, she jerked back, rushing to wipe the dampness from her cheeks. Clinton sat heavily in the seat beside her and shut the door, successfully locking her inside a tiny car with a maniac. He wore a trucker hat, holey jeans, and a loose tank top that said My Only Friend Is Beer. There was a tattoo on his ribcage, exposed under the low-slung arm holes of his shirt. It was two lines of written script font she couldn’t read fast enough before he covered it up.
“I’m fixing up my trailer,” he said, staring straight out the window.
“Okay,” she said, blinking slowly. Today was weird.
He inhaled deeply and set a yellow dandelion flower on her leg. “Bash said girls like flowers. You can stop crying now.” He crossed his arms over his chest and cast her a quick glance, then back out the front window.
Emerson picked the tiny flower off her leg and held it up. It still had the milky film on the stem where he’d just plucked it from a weed patch somewhere. She was going to dry it and keep it forever. “Thank you.”
“Not that I care, at all, but if you want to…you know…talk, you can say words to me and I won’t yell at you.”
“But you hate me.”
“Chhh,” he said, shaking his head. “I never said that.”
“But you’re always rude.”
“I was trying to chase you away.”
Well, at least he was honest. Emerson rested back against the chair and stared at the trailer park beyond the sign. “I have to talk to Bash first.”
“About how you ain’t pregnant?”
She jerked her gaze to him, and Clinton’s gray eyes locked slowly onto hers.
“How did you know?”
“I Internet searched it. Been counting down until you could take one of those tests. It’s close, and you’re in here crying, avoiding the trailer park. I’ve only seen you speed into here and basically drift your car into the carport behind Bash’s when you show up, all excited to see him.”
“I let him down—”
“Oh, bullshit. So you didn’t get a baby in you immediately. Woman, do you know how many things have to go right in your body and Bash’s to make a cub? A million things. You’re wanting to make a miracle, but sometimes it don’t happen first thing. You didn’t let anyone down. You’re going through something completely normal and, besides, have you seen the way Bash looks at you? You, Emerson. His eyes aren’t on your belly or what you can give him. Bash has wanted to find you for a long time. I promise he won’t be mad at you.” Clinton pressed himself back against his seat and sighed an irritated sound. “You know what he says up on the jobsite when any of us mention babies or when you’ll find out? He threatens to pluck our throats from our bodies if we put any pressure on you.”