Page 102 of Fragile Heart

Camden’s giggles crackle through the headset. I twist around, and he waves at me from his perch behind Caleb’s seat. Ethan’s stoic beside him as he holds out an arm, keeping Camden from reaching for me.

“Careful, kid,” he murmurs. “We’re not quite finished yet.”

Camden huffs. The plane bounces a bit as the wheels hit the pavement, and I suck in a quick gasp, trying to hide my nerves. Camden goes back to giggling, looking out the small window.

Caleb’s voice cuts through Camden’s laugh as he talks to whoever is manning the small airport. As he taxis the plane toward a line of much larger planes, I focus on the landscape surrounding us. It’s similar to Jackson though more green. Once the plane is stopped, Caleb leans over and pulls the headset off my ears, resting it on the instrument panel between us. His lips are soft, his hand gentle, as he kisses me and holds my chin to keep me from moving away.

“Can we see the lake first, Daddy?” Camden asks.

Caleb pulls away, a smile curving those sinful lips.

“Lake?” I ask, breathless.

Camden gasps. “Oops. Sorry! I forgot Bri doesn’t know!”

Apparently the surprise of where we’re spending the day is only for me. Ethan laughs, and the sound sends a shiver down my spine, all the way to my toes. It’s only been a few days since my heat finally subsided. I’m still sore from where they both knotted me multiple times over the course of the week. And yet… I want to find a quiet place where I can appreciate Ethan’s beard and skin and scent. My thighs clench.

Thank God the new scent blockers made it while I was still out of it, lost to the depths of my heat. The small cockpit stays blissfully devoid of my scent.

“Let’s start with getting a snack, kid,” Ethan says. “It’s been a while since breakfast, and I get cranky if I don’t get enough snacks during the day.”

Camden laughs. “Daddy, you’re silly.”

Caleb’s eyes glint as he smirks. “I need special snacks, too,” he whispers.

My cheeks flush, and I duck my head, pulling on the handle to open the cockpit’s door. Caleb’s laugh is as full as his son’s.

We climb out of the plane, and I smile at both of the airport employees finalizing the storing of the plane. As we cross the tarmac and enter the equally tiny terminal, Caleb wraps an armaround my waist and pulls me into his side. I lean my head against his shoulder, watching as Camden runs ahead of us, Ethan only a few feet behind him.

“Welcome to Coeur d’Alene, sweetheart,” Caleb murmurs.

Coeur d’Alene is beautiful. It’s different from Creek Falls or the mountain towns near Denver. The evergreens that surround the lake are a dark green, and the trees in the parks sprinkled throughout the small town are gigantic, way taller than anything that grows naturally in either city I’ve called home in recent years. We stop for ice cream and pretzels shortly after getting dropped off by the rideshare a block or so away from the main thoroughfare. Caleb kisses my nose, licking away a small bit of ice cream I got on it, while Ethan sits beside his son, watching me with hot eyes that promise meeverything. All without saying a damn word to me the entire time.

It’s clear Camden’s been here before and loved it. He races toward the road, promising me the best toy shop he’s seen, when he skids to a stop at the corner. Caleb grabs his hand as a group of tourists come barreling by him, paying him no mind. As we turn onto the main street through downtown, we pause, too. The entire street is closed to traffic, vintage cars lining the curbs on both sides, their coats of paint sparkling in the midday sun.

“Papa, look! It’s orange!” Camden points to a car that feels like it might have come from the 1980s with its super angular sides and trunk. Not that I know cars. At all. Caleb nods.

“Your favorite. How many do you think we can find?”

Camden pauses and hums. “I think five.”

I glance across the cars he can’t see over, taking a quick count. He’s not far off, actually. I count seven that are someshade of orange. Most of them are sports cars from the last decade or so. The body shapes seem passingly familiar, at least.

Ethan stands beside me, his elbow just brushing mine. I chance a look over at him, but he’s looking down the street, a frown pulling on his lips.

We haven’t talked. Not really. And I didn’t think the long looks counted, though they communicated plenty. Ethan’s never really been one for words. I push away the unease and twist my fingers with his. He runs his thumb across my knuckles.

Caleb leads Camden down the road, weaving through the people milling around, pointing out the orange cars. And a couple of others that seem to be special or unique, though I have no idea why. Ethan and I are slower. He doesn’t seem to be in any hurry, and I don’t push him. It’s not like I’m interested in the cars.

“Caleb’s planning on asking you about moving in,” he says after a while. He adjusts the ball cap that covers his head and shades out his face. He lets out a breath too forcefully to be a sigh. “We should… probably talk about this,” he squeezes my hand, “before that so it’s not clouding whatever you’re going to want to say.”

“All right.” My voice is steady despite the nerves crowding my throat. I swallow around them and focus on the view of the lake visible at the end of the street.

Ethan doesn’t say anything else the entire walk down to where tables are set out in a greenway, overlooking the lake. Caleb glances up as we pass him and Camden chatting with a guy standing in front of one of the bright orange cars. It looks kind of like a Corvette but more futuristic. Ethan whistles.

“Nice Lamborghini,” he whispers.

Well, that explains the futuristic feel, then.

---