Shelter Me Home(21)

When the credits rolled, he took Dodge from her arms and hoisted him  against his shoulder. His breath caught as he offered his hand to help  Farrah from the folding seat. He couldn't help himself. Desperation  pushed him to find a reason to touch her. The warmth of her palm against  his was more than he'd been prepared for, and he pulled her in before  he could change his mind.

She was small, the perfect fit inside his free arm. She tensed, but  eventually relaxed against his chest. The other moviegoers had filed out  under the exit sign, but here, in the dark of the theater, he was safe  to hold her. Slowly, she slid her arms around his waist and pressed her  hands against his back, drawing him in. Nothing in the world felt more  right than holding her. Nothing in his life had felt more intimate that  this moment.

"Go to dinner with me," he said into her hair. It smelled like exotic flowers, and he inhaled again like it was a drug.

"Aanon," she warned.

"I don't care, Farrah. Just for tonight let's pretend everything isn't  so messed up, okay? Pretend we met before everything got so  complicated."

She pulled back enough to arch her neck and search his eyes. "This is dangerous."

He rested his forehead against hers and closed his eyes. It was more  dangerous than she even knew, but the temptation to forget all the bad  for just one night was bigger than both of them. "I'm sorry I lied to  you."

"Aanon, please," she begged.

Easing back, he rested his head next to hers so only she would hear his  regrets. "No. You should hear how sorry I am that I hurt you." Squeezing  her closer as Dodge slept soundly against his shoulder, he sighed.  "That part of my life is scary, and it hurts, and I didn't want to share  that with you. I don't share it with anyone. You're different though,  and my secrets put you in Erin's path. I can only imagine what she said  to you, and I'm sorry for it. She's-difficult."

Farrah snorted, and he held back a laugh. Okay, difficult was a colossal  understatement when it came to Erin. High maintenance and borderline  cruel were more like it, but he wouldn't speak ill against the mother of  his child. "I'll try not to leave you out of the big stuff while you  are living in the cabin, okay?"

She nodded against his chest, and he reveled in the feel of the swell of her belly pressed firmly against his hips.

"I'm a train wreck," she said. "Take me to dinner but keep your hands to yourself. You're driving me crazy."

When she admitted the last part, though, it didn't sound like a bad  thing. And as she turned and led the way down the aisle, he couldn't  help but think she really needed to stop coming up with rules. Now, he  definitely did not want to keep his hands to himself.                       
       
           



       

Dodge woke up and rubbed sleepy eyes just as they ducked into Captain  Pattie's Fish House. The sun had set early with the oncoming winter  season, casting the night in deep blues, and the restaurant overlooked  the serene waters of Kachemak Bay. The seafood diner was busy with the  dinner rush, and Aanon led them to a table in the corner by a big  window. The smell of shrimp, chowder, clams, and crabs was overlaid with  the crisp scent of lemon, and Aanon's mouth watered like he hadn't  eaten in years. A waiter brought menus and took their drink orders  before giving them time to choose a meal.

"What's good here?" Farrah asked with a slight frown. The menu was extensive.

"Is this your first time here?" Aanon asked, pressing a lid on a cup of apple juice and passing it to Dodge.

"Yeah, and honestly it's been so long since I've had good Alaskan seafood, everything on this menu looks delicious."

"The sea sampler is good. So is the fettuccini."

"Aanon Falk, is that you?" an older lady hailed him from two tables down.

"Ms. Gretta?" He turned to Farrah and excused himself. "She used to  babysit me when my parents went out on date nights when I was a kid. Do  you mind if I go say hi?"

"Of course, I don't mind." Farrah waved to a beaming Ms. Gretta, and he  tossed his napkin on the table before taking three long strides to her  table.

She was enjoying dinner with three of her friends, and as introductions  were made, his attention was drawn to Farrah. He smiled where he  should've and shook their hands in turn, but time and time again, he  drank in the sight of his son wiggling down from his chair to straddle  Farrah's lap and play with the tress of dark hair that had fallen over  her shoulder. They talked with animated expressions like they'd known  each other Dodge's entire life, and both of them had beatific smiles  spread across their faces. She was so unforced with him. A natural.  She'd make a wonderful mother.

He'd picked wrong. The thought slammed into him like a tsunami.

"Aanon, did you hear me?" Ms. Gretta asked.

"Oh, sorry," he said sheepishly.

"It's all right dear," she said with a forgiving chuckle. "They are  quite something to watch, aren't they? I remember taking care of you  when you were your son's age, and now you're all grown up with a family  of your own. And you've made a beautiful family for yourself, Aanon."  The wrinkles deepened under her glasses, and her genuine smile widened.

She'd always been so kind, and her compliment settled inside of him as  he lifted his gaze to Farrah and Dodge again. He wished it were true,  that Farrah was part of his family. The withheld truth burned like a  lie, but he couldn't force himself to tell Ms. Gretta differently. She  would've been disappointed if she'd met Erin instead. His ex would've  likely been sitting at the table, ignoring Dodge to fiddle with her  phone, and no way would she have ever offered a friendly wave to a kind  stranger like Farrah had.

His failures mounted by the minute.

"You ladies have a good night. And stay away from that fisherman's  punch, you hear?" he told the giggling women with a wink. "Ms. Gretta,"  he said, grasping her outstretched hand. "It was truly a pleasure to see  you in here tonight. Made my week."

Her gray eyes twinkled. "Mine, too."

Clearing his throat, he took a seat across from Farrah and Dodge and  clasped his hands across his mouth so she wouldn't see the shame he felt  at fibbing to a sweet old lady. Jesus, he deserved Erin and all of her  drama.

"Dodge and I have decided we're going to share the fettuccini. We'll get  our pasta and seafood fix all in one," she announced. The menu clacked  onto the table and Dodge turned in her lap to reach for his juice.

"So what did you do in New York?" he asked after they'd put their food  order in. He'd been wanting to unravel her mysteries for days.

"I was a bartender."

Of course she was. He'd watched her behind the bar at Briney's. It was a  beautiful sight to behold. The woman could make every single person who  walked in there feel like they were the most important on earth. Of  course, she'd gained that talent through experience.

"I was actually bumped up to manage a high-end bar about four months  before I left. It's what I'd been working for." She shrugged. "My timing  isn't the best."

"Yeah, but you practically manage Briney's now. I know it's not the same  as a fancy city bar, but I've never seen the old man let anyone else  behind his bar in all the years I've been going there. You wiggled your  way behind it within the first couple of hours you were in town. We've  been telling him he needs to slow down for years, and you're giving him a  break. Maybe you are right where you are supposed to be. Maybe," he  said, dropping his gaze to Dodge who sat contently coloring in her lap,  "your timing was perfect this time."                       
       
           



       

The look in her eyes was bottomless, and his breath caught at the sudden  feeling like he was falling. A blush the color of rose petals bloomed  in her cheek, and his fingers itched to touch it, just to see if it was  as warm as it looked.

"What's Briney?" Dodger, the professional moment-squasher, asked.

"You remember Mr. Briney. He was the one who gave you a peppermint when  we were shopping at the general store last time you visited."

"Oh," he said. He grabbed three crayons and scribbled them across the  coloring paper the waiter had plopped in front of him. Huh. He'd figured  out how to make the color brown.

"It is definitely a big change from where I used to work," she said,  seeming to recover. "I made a thousand dollars in one night once. It was  at the second to last bar I tended. But here, I don't get stressed. I  can hear the customers. I can have conversations with them, and I'm not  just go go go all the time. It's been a nice change of pace. Thankfully,  the cost of living is different here, too. I wouldn't survive on what I  make otherwise."