The Brookfield Series Volume One (5 page)

Mark knew he was in trouble. Julie was special. There was something in him stirring with a hunger for her. Not only did he want to taste her, he also wanted to take care of her. Show her how a real man would treat a lady. That the baby was a blessing. He didn’t want her to be alone in this. Shaking his head quickly, he knew there was no way he could get involved in this. He’d been hurt beyond repair, or at least he thought.

* * *

As Julie cleaned up after dinner, she felt like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders. It was nice that someone now knew. It wasn’t as hard as she thought it would be, and he had made a good point. She was a grown adult. Jeremy was the moron, not her. Jeremy was the one who would look bad, not her. What didn’t she ever think of that herself?

Wiping the last dish dry, she heard Mark’s heavy footsteps as he came up the stairs with more firewood. He said he had to get a good fire going to help keep them warm all night. Over dinner they’d discussed the sleeping arrangements. They would camp out in the living room together. They would sleep right next to one another for the body heat. The thought of his body next to hers sent her into a state of arousal.

Earlier she’d been tempted to kiss him. She really wanted to. She had to practically convince herself why it couldn’t happen. For one, she was pregnant, and no one wanted to get involved with someone who was just going to get fat and then produce another life in a few months, which would demand their time. And for another, she didn’t know this man. She knew nothing about him. He wasn’t sharing anything personal about himself. Deep down, though, she knew there was something he wasn’t telling her. It was something that obviously caused a great deal of pain to him. But she wasn’t going to push.

As the evening got later, bedtime loomed over them. There wasn’t a whole lot to do when the sun went down early. They’d played a few card games, and she shared a couple of stories about her childhood. They didn’t want to use the TV so they could conserve what gas they had for the generator. All that was left now was bedtime.

Julie entered the living room with pillows in hand. Mark was pushing the coffee table out of the way, and her eyes were drawn to his backside. His T-shirt rode up his back, and his jeans were letting his boxers play peek-a-boo. Mark turned toward her, catching her gawking at him. Her cheeks heated, but she decided to not focus on it. She placed the pillow on the couch and then hunted for a few quilts.

She found what she was looking for in the linen closet then returned to the living room. Mark helped her lay one quilt out for them to lie on and then the next for a cover. The air was thick between them, and she didn’t know how much more awkward this could get. She sat on the floor, grabbing a pillow and stuffing it under her head. Staring up at the ceiling, she felt him climb in next to her. She turned her head slightly to see Mark looking at her and the flicker of fire in his eyes. For a moment, she let her mind wander to him taking her right there, with the flames going strong. His hands making her quiver, and his mouth exploring each part of her body. He looked like a good lover and like he would be thorough. Too bad the experience had to stay in her imagination.

Looking away, she quietly told him goodnight then rolled over so her back was facing him. Her eyes closed. She had expected to stay awake a lot longer but, instead, she drifted right off to sleep.

Hours later, she woke in a sweat. Mark’s body was firmly pressed against hers, and it was tense. His head shook slightly. Julie pulled away from him and sat up. Her bladder was once again calling. Slowly, she pulled the covers back and started to rise.

“Don’t go, Annabelle. Don’t leave me again. I need you and Greg,” Mark said as his hand gripped her wrist.

Julie’s eyes widened, and she looked back at him, but he was sound asleep. With her free hand, she pried his fingers off and started to leave again.

“Annabelle,” he whispered.

“Sssh,” she said. “I’m just using the bathroom.”

As she tiptoed toward the bathroom, she wondered who Annabelle and Greg were. Where had they gone? Was Annabelle his wife and she left him? But that seemed silly if they had a child together. Mark didn’t seem like the kind of man you would keep a child from. He didn’t strike her as someone who could hurt anyone. Annabelle and Greg had to be something else to him.

She climbed back into their cot. Mark was on his back, looking peaceful now. Once again, she turned so her back was to him. Right as she closed her eyes, Mark’s arm wrapped around her, tugging her against him, pressing an erection right against her butt. Her eyes shot open.

“It feels so good to touch you again,” he said.

She didn’t know what to say. He still had to be dreaming of this Annabelle and thought she was her.

Julie pulled at his arm, but he just tightened it around her.

“You’re not leaving me again.”

She was about to protest but having his arm wrapped around her was so comforting and strangely felt right. She snuggled up and decided to just go with it. Surely, by morning, they would no longer be spooning. She and Jeremy never had.

Chapter Seven

A shiver swept through Julie, waking her with a jolt. The sun shone brightly through the window. Rolling over to her back, she noticed the fire had almost died down. That must have been why she was so chilly. And the fact that Mark was gone.

She had slept so peacefully in his arms. Now she yearned for him to come back.

“Shit!” The voice echoed from the kitchen.

Throwing the covers away, Julie sat up, stretching her back. Wow, she was getting way too old to sleep on the floor. She was awfully stiff this morning.

In the kitchen, she found Mark with his hand under running water.

“Everything okay?” she asked.

With his back still to her, he said, “Fine. Cut my finger.”

“Ouch.” She really wasn’t sure if she should rush over to help or if she should keep her distance. Men were weird, and you just never knew how they would react to pain.

Julie decided to go ahead, get a towel, and set it beside him. After placing the towel down, she saw he was cutting up some fresh fruit.

“Need help?” she asked.

“I didn’t, but I guess I do now. I was making you toast and was going to put some diced fruit on the side.” Mark turned the water off and wrapped his finger in the towel she had laid out for him.

“Aw, that’s sweet.”

“I figured it would be easier on your stomach.”

She nodded. He was probably right. “What can I do?”

“The toast is done. Actually, everything is done. I was getting ready to start on the strawberries.”

She squinted. “I don’t like strawberries.”

“You’re kidding me. I almost cut my finger off for nothing?”

She laughed. She couldn’t help it. He was just so darn cute. “If you want some, I can slice them for you.”

“Nah, I’m beginning to think I don’t like them either.”

Julie’s heart warmed. The more she got to know Mark, the more she liked him. She grabbed both their plates and took them over to the table. Taking a seat, she saw he’d already gotten her juice and a cup of steaming hot coffee was at his place. Inhaling, her mouth watered for a taste of his drink.

“Once we can get out this place, I’ll get you some decaf.” Mark took the seat in front of her.

She didn’t say anything, unsure of what she was going to do once she could leave. Her time with Mark had been great, but she couldn’t just stay living with him. Maybe she just needed to go back to New York. Return to her life and do what she had to do for the baby.

For the most part, they ate in silence. Mark chatted a little and mentioned that, with the sun coming out, hopefully temperatures would rise and snow would melt. But then, that would be a whole other type of mess he wasn’t looking forward to.

Once she finished eating, she was glad her stomach didn’t feel queasy. Perhaps he was onto the right idea.

“Can I ask you a question?” she asked.

“I’ll do my best to answer it.”

“Last night I had to get up and use the restroom, and you called me Annabelle. Who is that?”

His expression changed and hardened. “No one.”

She couldn’t help but feel disappointed he wouldn’t open up. She reached across the table and took his hand. First, he looked down at her hand, and then his gaze went to her face.

“You can tell me,” she said.

Jerking his hand away, he said, “There is nothing to tell.”

“There has to be. You thought I was her, and you told me you missed her and Greg.”

Mark stood, shoving away from the table.

“Mark,” she called after him as he left the kitchen without a word.

There was definitely something there—something he didn’t want to share. It had to be eating away at him to get as angry as he did. Annabelle had to have been his wife, and maybe she left him, taking their son for selfish reasons. And he left wherever he came from because of the memories. She couldn’t believe someone might do that. If Jeremy wanted anything to do with their child, she wouldn’t keep it from him. She, however, was in a whole different boat. Jeremy wanted their baby dead.

* * *

The day seemed to be dragging. She was going through some of the postcards her mother had sent as Mark cleaned up the kitchen from lunch. For the most part, he had avoided her as much as possible. Anytime she entered a room, he left it. Most of the day he had been down in the basement doing God knows what.

She flipped through the postcards and felt a twinge of happiness. Her mother had to be having the time of her life. All Julie’s life growing up, her mother and father had talked about traveling. Once her old man retired, they were going to set their sights across the USA and see what kind of trouble they could get into. Ten years ago, when Julie’s father died, she’d thought her mother was never going to leave this house. She’d grieved for a long time.

Julie’s emotions took over, and a few tears leaked from her eyes. She really was just so happy for her mom. Surely she was laughing with the windows down and the wind blowing through her hair. Her father would be watching from Heaven and smiling.

Mark cleared his throat. Julie dropped the postcards and looked up at him.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Yeah, fine. I was just thinking about my dad. That’s all.”

“Okay.” He nodded.

“Listen, I’m sorry for earlier.”

He put his hand up to stop her. “I’m going to try to dig out some more. Do you mind putting the kettle on, so I can have a hot drink when I come in?”

“Uh, yeah, sure.” She glanced toward the window. “Has it warmed up at all out there?”

“A little.”

“Good.”

Mark didn’t say anything else but just headed down to the basement again to get whatever he needed.

Putting the lid back on the box, she laid it on the table before heading into the kitchen. A nice cup of cocoa sounded good to her and maybe a chat with Claire also. Once the water was finished boiling, she poured it into a mug and stirred. As she took a sip, the chocolaty goodness hit just the right spot.

She picked up the phone off the wall and called Honeycreek Bed and Breakfast. Claire answered right away.

“Hey, Claire,” Julie said.

“Julie! Hi! Crazy storm. How are you holding up?”

“Decent. A tree fell through the power line. Thank God Mom had a generator.”

“Yikes. Well, I heard the crews are starting to clear the roads, and the power company is working around the clock.”

“Good.” She was ready for things to get back to normal.

“So how’s it going with that hunk?”

Julie giggled. “It’s going. There is definitely a story to be told though.”

“Any ideas?” Claire asked.

Julie listened for Mark but didn’t hear anything. Quietly, she spoke into the phone. “I’m working on it. Last night we decided to sleep next to each other for warmth, and he called me Annabelle.”

“Hmm, any ideas who it is?”

“I asked, and he got on the defense real fast and closed himself off. Maybe an ex-wife. I think a child is somehow involved, too. This man knows a lot about pregnancy.”

Julie covered her mouth.
Shit
.

“Why would you guys be talking about pregnancy?” Claire asked.

“I have a friend back home who is pregnant,” she said quickly.

“Are you sure it’s a friend?”

Darn, what was she to say? She didn’t want to lie to her friend, but was she ready to start telling people? Hell, she hadn’t even told her mother yet.

“I’m not ready to talk about it.”

“I understand.” She could hear the pause from Claire. “Just know I’m here with a shoulder to lean on if you need it.”

“Thanks.”

“So did you and that hunk every woman in town wants happen to cuddle?”