Shelter Me Home(20)

She hadn't said a word in the past hour of driving, and other than  Dodge's chattered conversation with a rock he'd taken a fancy to this  morning, the cab of the truck had been doused in quiet.

She was pissed. He could see it in her rigid posture. She avoided even  looking in his direction. He knew, because he'd been watching for the  slightest tilt of her head toward him. It wasn't as if he could blame  her. Maybe he should've told her earlier, but Dodge and the chaos that  had surrounded his relationship with Erin for the past six months was  just something he didn't discuss with anyone. It was too hard to put  everything into words, and he'd learned a long time ago to keep personal  stuff from airing to the small town full of gossipers.

She wasn't just some townie, though. And on occasion, he'd even been  tempted to let her know his secrets. To really let her in. But there was  something terrifying in that. She'd leave sooner or later. When he  thought about the future, it didn't include Farrah sticking around a  cattleman's cabin years down the road. And if he gave in and shared the  burdens of his life, she'd obliterate him on her way out.

Still. He glanced sideways at her again in hopes of catching the green  of her eyes. He wished he hadn't given her a reason to be hurt.

"Buddy," he said, and Dodge looked up from the stone in his grasp.

"What?"

"You want to listen to music?"

In the rearview, he nodded with the little smile that had earned him an extra pancake this morning.

"What do you want to listen to?" Aanon asked. He already knew the answer.

"‘Eight Days A Week,'" Dodge said without hesitation.

It was tradition that they listened to The Beatles anytime they were in  the truck. "Eight Days A Week" was the only song Dodge had memorized,  and Aanon loved belting it out with him. He'd try and earn Farrah's  forgiveness later. Maybe he'd even tell her some of the reasons why she  had to be left in the dark, but for now, he was going to win a smile  from her with underhanded techniques.

Because no woman could resist the musical stylings of Dodger Camden Falk.




                       
       
           



       
Chapter Ten


Plucking another pair of stretchy waist jeans from the rack, Farrah  hummed the old Beatles song under her breath and smiled. It would likely  be stuck in her head for the next six years because Aanon had blasted  it several times in a row on the way to Homer. She'd resisted singing  with them until the third repeat.

At her pleading, the boys had found something else to do with their time  other than stare at her trying to pick the perfect pair of  belly-hugging pants. Shopping had always been fun with friends in New  York, and it was something she missed. Female companionship wasn't easy  to come by in Cooper Landing. There simply wasn't that many women to  choose from for a girls' night out.

The maternity store was small, but still, she was able to find three  pairs of jeans and two pairs of black leggings with stretchy panels that  would expand as her pregnancy progressed. Better yet, she found a few  long, curve-fitting sweaters on a clearance rack and purchased them for  seventy-five percent off. Not a bad day's worth of shopping, seeing as  how she'd almost doubled her wardrobe for under a hundred dollars. And  when she asked the sales clerk if she could wear one of the dark-wash  pair of jeans out of the store after she paid, the elderly woman hadn't  even batted an eyelash before she said yes.

Upon wandering out of the store, Aanon and Dodge were nowhere to be  seen, so she ambled slowly up the row of shops. Pausing in front of a  tiny store with an eccentrically colorful sign that read Homer  Clayworks, she eyed a trio of coffee mugs in the front window. One had a  picture of a moose, likely for tourists visiting the region. The next, a  blue one, sported a brown bear by a river. It was the third that caught  her attention. A wilderness scene had been outlined in dark ink against  a green background. The price tag was visible from where she stood.

The clothes had costs much less than she'd anticipated, and the cost of  the mug was fair, so she rushed into the store before she could change  her mind to make her purchase. On second thought, she bought the three  mug set and a gourmet pack of hot chocolate. She had the shopkeeper wrap  them in crackling brown paper before setting them in a paper bag for  the long ride home.

A bite of chill filled the breeze and, shuddering, she crossed her arms  over her chest. Her fitted winter jacket still lay in the front seat of  the truck where she'd left it.

"Farrah!" Aanon hailed from across the street.

With a brilliant smile, Dodge beckoned her toward them as his other hand  fit snugly into his father's. When she'd crossed, Aanon twitched his  head to an old, two-screen movie tavern.

"Want to catch a show?" he asked.

"Is Dodge old enough to sit through one?"

"We can try. It's a cartoon, and if we have to leave early, that's okay."

"I don't know." A movie sounded very date-like, even if it was one  about-she studied the movie poster decorating the outside wall-animated  aliens. And she sure as anything didn't need to get anymore caught up in  this day with Aanon and his son. This taste of what life could be like  was dangerous and shrouded in what could never be.

"I'll spring for popcorn," Aanon murmured through a wicked smile.

"Pweeeease," Dodge pleaded.

Aw, crap. Saying no to one Falk was next to impossible. Under the  begging stares of both of them, she'd say yes to just about anything.  "Fine, but I'm buying my own ticket. Deal?"

She lifted her empty hand for a shake, but Aanon's eyes were riveted on  something behind her. She turned, but there was only a café with a few  patrons enjoying mid-morning coffee at small, metal tables.

"You okay?" she asked, dropping her ignored hand.

The wrinkle of worry in his brow smoothed, and he nodded. "I'm fine.  Come on. The show is starting soon, and I want to get Dodge into a seat  before the lights turn off."

"Okay," she murmured with one last glance at the café. His strong hand  splayed her lower back and encouraged her into the theater.

True to his word, Aanon did buy a giant tub of popcorn. She stuck a  quarter in a game in the arcade and helped Dodge drive a two dimensional  racecar while his daddy stood in line for the concession stand. When  they were seated in the very center of the theater, Aanon offered her a  bottled water and a heart-stopping smile just as the lights dimmed.

Staring like a lunatic, she didn't yank her gaze away until the curve  had disappeared completely from his lips. They probably tasted like  sunshine. Geez, what was wrong with her? She broke the seal of her water  cap and doused her throat in the cool liquid. If she weren't in public,  she'd upend the entire bottle over her face and hope it settled her  raging hormones.                       
       
           



       

"Hey," he whispered, darting a glance behind them and leaning against her ear. "Thanks for hanging out with us today."

The tickle of his breath against her earlobe was almost enough to crush  all restraint. A shudder washed through her as his lips lightly brushed  the sensitive edge of her ear, and warmth filled her until she sat the  line of pleasure and discomfort.

He drew back slightly. "What was that? Are you cold?"

The heat in her stomach fanned upward until her cheeks burned. "No, I'm not cold. Your lips just felt … sorry."

The grin that took his lips was nothing short of triumphant. "Felt what?"

"Shhh," a man hissed from behind them.

Sorry, Aanon mouthed over his shoulder. The knowing smile still lingered, but he faced the screen just as the previews started.

****

That movie had to be the longest one in the history of theater. And it  wasn't even because the animation was bad or the writing subpar. Aanon  might have enjoyed it if it weren't for Farrah's intoxicating presence.  She'd reacted to his nearness before the movie started, and he couldn't  keep his mind from it. She'd been easy to draw a shudder from, and his  imagination went wild with the things he could do to affect her.

Dodge had skirted his legs, crawled into her lap mid-way through the  movie, and fallen asleep in her arms. Watching her arch her neck to rest  her cheek on his head was about the sweetest thing he'd ever  encountered. And then there was her hand, resting lightly on Dodge's  knee, practically begging to be held and caressed by Aanon.

The woman undid him.

He wanted to kiss and lick every knuckle in turn and feel the tangle of  her fingers in his hair. Every problem he ever had was forgotten in the  effort to keep his eyes on the screen when she laughed. Damn, she had a  great laugh. Softened so she wouldn't wake Dodge, but high, unforced,  and clear like a bell.