"Aanon," she said gently. "It's okay. You don't have to come with me today. Do whatever you need to, and I'll be back later tonight."
Keys jangled as he dug them out of his pocket and tossed them to her. "Take the Chevy, and I'll feel better about it."
His worry was nothing shy of flattering. He wasn't being stifling or too overprotective. His care for her was showing, and her cheeks heated with pleasure. "Can you call Luna to you when I leave? She always tries to come with me, and I don't want to tie her up today."
"Sure. Hey," he said, jogging to her and wrapping her up in a warm hug. "Be careful. Call my cell if you need me to come get you."
So great was the temptation to remain in his arms, she didn't move, didn't breathe for fear of breaking the moment. Sighing, she closed her eyes and relaxed against his chest. His heartbeat was strong and steady beneath her cheek, and she wrapped her arms around his waist. Minutes stretched and, still, he just held her-they just were. The call of winter birds and the play of the dogs were the only sounds besides that of their breathing. The baby fluttered and rolled against the pressure of Aanon's taut abdomen. She laughed and retreated a step with her hands over the movement.
Smiling, he dropped his hands under her jacket, and just before his fingertips rested on her stomach, he hesitated. "Does it bother you when I touch you here?" he whispered.
"No, I don't mind. When you touch me, I feel safe."
His throat moved as he swallowed, the thick cords of muscle contracting as his palm cupped the swell of her stomach. "You're so beautiful, it hurts to look away sometimes."
The baby rotated under his hand, and she brushed her lips against his. "So are you."
Nothing in her wanted to leave him, especially when he pulled her closer and deepened the kiss. Minutes drifted by. She stalled longer than she should have, burrowing against him and soaking up his warmth as his lips moved against hers.
"You're going to be late," Aanon said, easing back with a knowing smile.
With a teasing pout, she nibbled his bottom lip, then headed for his Chevy. Snow crunched under the oversized, chain-covered tires as she pulled away from the homestead. Through the rearview, Aanon leaned on the ax and watched her leave. She waved behind her. He lifted his hand just as she rounded a grove of evergreens.
The man scared her in the best ways. He wasn't only beautiful on the outside. Who he was, his soul, was wonderful as well. She'd gained her confidence back in the weeks since her arrival. No longer was she mousey and afraid of the future, but she knew without a shadow of a doubt, everything would work out somehow.
Aanon complimented her when she learned new things, and was openly grateful when she worked the homestead with him. He didn't seem to expect anything and treated every menial thing she did as a gift.
Aanon's confidence in her made her feel alive again.
He'd brought them both back to life.
Chapter Fourteen
Briney's was abnormally busy, but Burtlebey Miller, one of the bar's regulars, assured Farrah it was due to the upcoming storm. "Everyone's out in full force in case they get snowed in for a few days," he slurred happily as she poured him another beer.
Her mood was downright joyous as she served customers and talked up acquaintances. That was the nice thing about living in a small town again. In New York, she rarely saw a face twice. Here, she was starting to get to know the townspeople in a surprisingly pleasant way. That's not to say everyone was nice. Many a hermit lived up in the mountains above them, and when they ventured to town for libations, a few of them were lacking in the manners of the well socialized, but most of the people she'd met were accepting and friendly toward her.
The bar was decorated in an atrocious combination of Halloween, Thanksgiving, and Christmas decorations, and when she'd asked Briney about it earlier, he muttered that he was too lazy to decorate more than once a year.
Ben, Mayva, and Audrey shot pool with some of their friends, and between bartending and making sandwiches in the back, she was too busy to count the hours. The first shift rushed by in a blur, and the second flew by until the door opened and Aanon stood there. Like magnets, their gazes clashed, and a slow simmering smile took his lips. She lived for smiles like those.
He waved to Ben and the others and made his way to the bar, took a seat, and gave a greeting to Burtlebey.
As soon as she got a spare moment, she moved to his place at the bar. "Were you worried about me?" she asked teasingly.
"Yes." His stoic expression dared her to continue the taunt, but the butterflies in her stomach turned her serious.
"What'll you have?" she asked.
"You going to drive us home?" he asked, his eyebrows arched in question.
Her hands had drifted protectively over her belly, as they did more and more these days. "You know it."
"I'll just have a beer. I don't feel like drinking tonight but if I don't nurse something, ol' Ben over there won't ever leave off me."
"One beer, you got it. Hey," she said, lowering her voice and leaning over the top. "Guess what?"
"What?"
"Briney pulled me in his office before my first shift to talk to me. He wants me to manage the bar and work five days a week. He said he'd give me time off when the baby comes but he's got his sights set on retiring, and he wants me to help with the transition. He wants me to run the bar for him. I'll be taking care of inventory, shipments, all of it." Her grin was so big, her face hurt.
"Farrah, that's awesome. It's what you want?"
"Yeah," she admitted. "It really is. I feel like everything is coming together for me here."
Nodding his chin toward the small fridge behind her, he said, "Grab a water, we need to toast."
She poured herself an orange juice instead and clinked it against his beer bottle.
"To you running the bar," he said. His lips parted like he wanted to say more, but Mayva took that moment to stomp her foot beside Aanon and growl out his name.
"I've said your name three times. Are you ignoring me on purpose?" The blond-haired girl stared at their toasting glasses with a slight frown.
"Why would I ignore you on purpose, Mayva? I just didn't hear you."
"Come on," she said, gripping his elbow. "Ben wants to play doubles against us, and it's our turn."
"All right, I'm coming." As he paid for the beer, he brushed Farrah's hand intimately before he left his seat. His eyes burned with delicious promises, and her stomach clenched at the effect he could have on her body with just a smoldering look. The man was nothing short of delectable.
No better distraction existed on earth than a pretty blond throwing back shots of tequila and hanging onto Aanon's arm like a bot fly. Another half hour, and Mayva might as well just crawl into his sweater with him. A sense of satisfaction trilled through her as she watched him try time and time again to detach himself from Mayva's attentions. And on two occasions, he looked back at Farrah with a face nothing short of comical. She stifled a laugh when he mouthed the words help me.
When Mayva stumbled to the bar top a fifth time, ankles bending in her impossibly high heels, for yet another round, Farrah shook her head. "Sorry honey, but you are officially cut off."
"What?" she slurred indignantly. "I want to talk to Briney. I've never been cut off in my life."
"You're cut off," Briney called from down the counter.
An inhuman little screech ripped from her throat, and she whacked the bar top with her pink, faux alligator-skin purse.
"Look, you can stay here as long as you want," Farrah said. "Go play some pool with your friends and sober up a little." She plopped a glass of water in front of her. "The more water you drink now, the better you'll feel in the morning."
"I don't need life advice from some"-she rolled her eyes heavenward as if she were searching for the perfect insult-"skank."
"Lovely." This night was shaping up nicely.
"I'm taking my business somewhere else." Jabbing a finger in the air, Mayva nodded to punctuate how serious she should be taken.
"For the record," Burtlebey said to Farrah with a belch. "I don't think you're a skank."
"Definition of a skank," Mayva said, pointing her pesky finger in the air again. "Scrumbody named Farrah who opens her legs and impregnates herself of different men."
Suddenly, Farrah wanted to go to bed and be unconscious. She heaved a sigh. "Even if that made any sense at all, you still can't have another drink, Mayva. Do you need me to call someone to give you a ride home?"