The Bears of Blackrock, Books 1 - 3: The Fenn Clan (20 page)

BOOK: The Bears of Blackrock, Books 1 - 3: The Fenn Clan
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Kirk moved quickly, hauling ass down the apartment steps to find Rory standing in the kitchen, rubbing her eyes. “Hey kiddo. What’re you doing back up?”

She frowned. “I had a bad dream.”

“Oh, well that’s not a good plan. Don’t do that.”

Rory smiled at him just as Joe appeared in the hallway behind him, her hair clipped up again in a messy bun. She crossed the kitchen to her daughter, opening her arms to embrace her and kiss the top of her head.

“What were you guys doing up there?”

Kirk went to the fridge, looking inside as though he might absolve himself of lustful guilt therein.

“Kirk was just showing me the apartment.”

“Are we really going to live up there? I like my room down here,” Rory said, letting her mother lead her back down the hall.

“I know you do, sweetheart, but Kirk has already done more than enough for us. I’m sure he’d like to have us out of his hair.”

Just as she reached the bend in the hallway, Joe turned back toward the kitchen, shooting him a soft look before disappearing into her bedroom.

“Good night?” She said, but it was a question.

His brows went up, and he half shrugged. “Good night?”

Joe disappeared into her bedroom. The tone of their parting betrayed conspiracy – an almost, ‘shall we pick this up again once she’s asleep?’

Yes, he thought. Yes, please. Holy shit, yes please.

Kirk tugged at the crotch of his jeans, repositioning himself. His cock was still half stiff when he slumped down onto the living room couch to wait. He’d be ready this time. He knew exactly what he’d do, how he’d do it. Now that he had warning, Kirk was prepping himself for her return. He’d give that confusing, exasperating, beautiful woman the night of her damn life when she came back.

Kirk woke on the couch to the sound of Rory’s morning alarm singing away in her empty bedroom. It was snowing outside.

 

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER NINE

 

“Momma! Momma!! Wake up! Wake up, come look!”

Joe stirred in her bed, rolling over to find Rory awake and giddy, standing by the bedroom window.

She turned, her eyes wide and her voice low in a whisper. “Momma, come look! Quick!”

Joe rolled over the length of the bed, coming to sit at the edge of the mattress before her stomach turned into itself. She’d almost forgotten the night before – the moment she lost all semblance of self-restraint and straddled Kirk Fenn in his garage apartment.

Jesus Joe! What were you fucking thinking?

She fought a smile that wanted to creep across her face as her wiseass of a brain responded.

You were thinking of how nice it would be to let the tall, sexy bastard actually get his hands on your ass, given he’s always stealing glances at it.

“See him? He’s down by the trees,” Rory whispered, pressing her nose to the window.

Joe stood up and gasped. The world outside was completely changed. The hills and valleys of the Fenn property were now a sea of white in all directions, the line of pine trees that framed the roadway all weighed down and heavy with snow. Joe took a delighted, almost emotional breath. She’d never seen anything so serene and beautiful.

“Do you see him? He’s going back into the woods, Momma! Look!”

Joe leaned into the window, her own breath fogging the pane as she pressed her forehead to the glass. She followed Rory’s pointed finger and spotted a large black shape moving along the tree line. Joe held her breath.

They’d seen several deer in the yard, and even moose came to visit in the early morning or at dusk. Still, this was remarkable, and almost unnerving. Down by the tree line, just thirty yards or so away from the back yard, was a massive bear strutting along in the snow. Rory giggled to herself, watching the bear sniff at the tree trunks as he passed, standing up to shove his front paws against the trunk and shake a massive drift of snow free from the branches overhead. Joe found herself just as mesmerized, smiling as they watched the bear do what she could only describe as entertain himself. The bear appeared again as the snow settled around him, only to be joined from within the trees by another. This one looked smaller, younger somehow, and it launched from the trees, tackling the first bear into the snow drifts. From afar, it almost looked as though they were fighting, but when the two creatures began to run toward the house, both stopping to turn and be sure the other was following, it was clear these bears were playing, enjoying each other’s company.

“Kirk?” Joe called, wanting him to share in this moment with her and Rory. There was no answer.

“He’s not here,” Rory said, her face still glued to the window. “He’s coming home soon, though.”

Joe frowned, leaning in to watch the bears further. They’d disappeared into the trees. Joe sighed.

“Alright, monkey. Go hop in the shower. I’ll get your clothes ready.”

Joe slipped into the children’s room, pulling undies and jeans from the dresser drawers. She didn’t recognize some of the items, and had a moment imagining Kirk Fenn driving all the way down to Ellsworth to go shopping for ten year old girls’ underwear. It stopped her in her tracks thinking about it; about how much this man gave of himself to make her daughter feel her needs were met, to make her feel at home.

Suddenly, she remembered exactly why she’d crawled into his lap the night before. She’d been alone a long time, by choice as much as by design. She found it difficult to trust men, something she wasn’t going to apologize for. Yet, Kirk was a good man. The kind of man she’d be happy to have a little fun with. That was all – wasn’t it?

“Did you see outside?” A breathless voice asked from the hallway. Joe turned to find Kirk in the doorway, his navy blue, winter coat dark from wet, his jeans soaked almost through.

She smiled, and for the first time in years, she didn’t cover her mouth. “What, were you building a snowman? Careful out there! Rory and I just spotted two bears down by the tree line.”

“You did?!”

Joe couldn’t quite tell why this excited him so. He didn’t run to the window to look, didn’t run to the door to find them and catch a sight himself; it was just unmitigated surprise.

“Well, we’ll have to be careful pulling out of the garage then,” he said, turning back to the kitchen. “Did you check? Did they call a snow day? Might be wishful thinking, but it’s worth a shot!”

Kirk was a bundle of energy. Joe listened to him bustling around in the kitchen, pulling his usual fixings from the cupboards as he did most days, readying the stove to make pancakes.

“Where are the chocolate chips?!”

Joe laughed there by the bunk beds, feeling a strange pull to the kitchen, and the massive, excited little boy that had appeared in the wake of snow outside. Joe set an outfit of Doctor Who t-shirt and jeans out on Rory’s bed before settling into one of the barstools along the kitchen counter to watch Kirk at work. He cracked two eggs simultaneously, letting their yolks plop into the mixing bowl as his phone played James Brown from the countertop behind him. He was dancing around, whisking away as though oblivious to her presence. Joe watched him, fighting the same strange pull as the night before. She’d come on to him the night before not out of love, not out of some heartsick longing – she simply wanted physical intimacy. She wanted to be touched, and she wanted the kind of touch that she wouldn’t regret in the morning. Watching him dance around the kitchen, pouring the first pancake into the pan with a head swivel and a Billy Idol caliber lip curl, she suddenly wasn’t so sure about her motivation the night before.

Kirk Fenn was the kind of man she’d wanted her whole life. How could she say it was just lust? How could she say she wasn’t fond of him?

Joe turned away from this inner struggle, losing herself in a simple and mindless task of calling the school.

“Chocolate chips this time?”

Kirk perked up from the stove, smiling at Rory as she came around the corner, her hair damp and clinging to her neck. “You better believe it.”

Rory grabbed a plate from the cabinet and turned around just in time for Kirk to flip a pancake in Rory’s direction, only to have it fly across the kitchen and slap her in the shoulder.

Joe fell over laughing, nearly dropping her phone.

Kirk lunged for Rory, laughing at himself as the little girl stood there with a feigned look of shock, blinking repeatedly and trying not to crack a smile as Kirk fawned over her and the lost pancake.

“Oh man! I’m sorry! I swear I was aiming for the plate!”

Rory just stood there blinking for comic effect. “Sure. Last time you got the plate, you said you were aiming for my face.”

“Yeah, but I’m reformed,” he said, drawing even further laughter from Joe. Kirk bent down to brush the chocolate stains from Rory’s shoulder. “It’s cool. It’s a black shirt. Doesn’t even show up.”

Joe turned away from the counter, the phone in her hand, but nowhere near her ear as she tried to still the pain in her sides. Something about Rory’s face, the confidence with which Kirk had flung the pancake, and the way he swooped in to cover for himself had left Joe helpless to her laughter. She had to step away from the kitchen to catch her breath, replaying the flapjack attack over and over in her mind.

“Mom! Don’t encourage him!”

Kirk laughed, shooting her that show stopping smile of his. “Yeah, Mom!”

Joe took another three minutes of randomly bursting into laughter before she could share the bad news – no snow day.

 

Rory stood by the side of the road, wrapped, zipped, and buttoned into every piece of winter clothing Kirk Fenn had on hand. She had on a Bruins hat, mittens, a hand crocheted scarf, and worn out ear muffs that had once belonged to Gracie. She looked ready for battle with a snow drift.

“Oh, Mom. I need a black shirt and black pants for tomorrow night.”

Joe’s brow furrowed. “What’s tomorrow night?”

Rory smiled. “It’s the band concert. Mr. Arsenault says I can still be in it.”

Joe shot a glance back at the truck. “Oh that’s great! I think we have something that will work.”

“Mmk,” Rory said, turning her attention back to the road. “Do you think Kirk will come, too?”

Joe smiled. “I’m sure he will.”

Kirk sat in the truck, watching them as they waited for the bus. Joe scratched at the nape of Rory’s neck as the school bus crept up, its brakes squealing to a stop at the Fenn gate. Rory marched up the stairs and out of sight, her clarinet case smacking and swinging into everything as she went. She didn’t even glance back at them as the bus roared away from the gate.

Joe stood there a moment in the freezing Maine air, almost afraid to turn around and face Kirk. They’d spent the morning together, but this ride – this twenty minute drive in the close quarters of his truck – this would be just the two of them, without the buffer of a ten year old girl between them.

Joe took a deep breath, hunching down into Kirk’s massive navy blue coat, and trudged back over to his truck. He was watching her every step.

They pulled away from the gate without a word, the truck cab warm and cozy as she relaxed inside his L.L. Bean jacket. The roads weren’t well sanded, nor were they fully cleared, but Kirk’s 4WD barreled down the road as smoothly as if it were a summer’s day. Joe leaned against the passenger door, fighting with a thousand words that wanted to be said.

Should she apologize?

Should she explain herself – explain her headspace, that desire for human contact?

Should she admit she thought about him naked, sometimes?

Shut up, Josephine! You asshole, she thought.

“Looking forward to another day out of the house?” Kirk asked as they crossed the border from Falkirk’s Seat into Blackrock proper.

“I’m sorry about last night.”

The words burst from her like written in a script.

Kirk’s eyebrows shot up, but he didn’t look at her. “Which part?”

Joe swallowed. What was she sorry for? Sorry for coming onto him? Sorry for putting him on the spot like that? Sorry for her daughter interrupting them, maybe – or worse! Sorry for not coming back to him after Rory fell back to sleep?

She felt his presence there like a warmth on her skin, and began to wonder all over again what he might be like in an intimate moment – if his size translated into a beast of a man in the bedroom.

Stop it, Joe. Jesus, are you menstrual?

“Are you sorry because it happened? Or are you sorry because it didn’t rea -”

“Pull over.”

Yet again, the words came without warning or plan. Kirk’s body tensed, but he did as he was told, pulling off onto a side road that led to nowhere. He put the truck in park, his hands still on the steering wheel as he sat there, visibly nervous.

Joe swallowed. “I don’t know what I’m doing, Kirk. I honestly have no idea, but -” Joe slid across the front seat of the truck toward him, taking his hand from the steering wheel. “- and if this isn’t something you want to happen, you can tell me and -”

Kirk turned, grabbed her face in his hands, his fingers getting lost in her hair, and he kissed her. There was no caution to it, no trepidation like the night before. Kirk Fenn left no question between them; he wanted her, and he wanted her now.

Joe moved beside him, climbing up onto her knees to bring her lips closer to his, and Kirk pushed his seat back, leaving enough space between him and the steering wheel for her to climb over him. She settled into his lap as she had the night before, the cramped space pulling them closer now, letting her feel his body stir beneath her.

He wanted her very much indeed.

Joe pressed herself down on him, letting him hold her face in his hands and kiss her. His kisses were teasing, but passionate, letting his tongue explore her mouth with fervor, only to pull away, teasing her lips with his own before returning to that same deep, soul satisfying kiss. She found herself whimpering against these kisses, helpless to their effect as he moved beneath her, wrapping an arm around her waist to push her down onto him. She felt the hard shape of him between them and cried into his mouth. How could she want him this much?

“For fuck’s sake, there’s no room in here!” Kirk said, exasperated, his hand grabbing her ass with such passion, she winced. She responded to his body, moving over him in a rhythm he’d started. His amber eyes grew dark as he stared up at her, his lips parted just enough to glisten.

He grabbed her breasts through her shirt, squeezing them roughly. “When I get my hands on you properly, woman, you won’t know what fucking hit you.”

She beamed down at him, letting her hips grind with purpose as he groaned. “Wow, I like this version of you. Last night I almost feared -”

“Last night I was surprised,” he said.

Joe put her hands over his, feeling his hands move and play as he kneaded her breasts, urging him onward. “Surprised in a good way?”

Kirk flashed her that beautiful grin of his. “You can’t even imagine.”

He grabbed her ass then, pushing her down onto him, grinding his hips up into her. She shrieked, feeling the hard shape of him, the warmth and purpose of his body. She pressed her body to his, letting him move against her.

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