Page 16 of Lonely Beard
He rolls to the side and drags me against his chest. Tucks my hair behind my ear and presses a kiss to my neck.
I’m sweaty and sticky. So happy I could whoop.
Sothisis the mountain man experience.
* * *
Ten months later
I’m tapping away at my laptop, perched on a high stool at the bar, when a wall of solid heat comes up behind me. Biting back a smile, I shift on my seat and lean back until my shoulder blades hit a strong chest, still typing feverishly all the while.
All around the room, locals laugh together in booths and swig from beer bottles; they stomp pine needles from their boots as they file through the front door. Over in the corner, someone coaxes fuzzy Elvis songs from the jukebox.
“Hey,” Aiden says into my hair, his deep, broken voice making me shiver. “It’s dark out. Is Soulmate Express making you work overtime?”
I snort, blowing a strand of dark hair out of my face. My fingers blur over the keyboard, and as I work, it’s like the whole Cloudy Lake bar fades away, the chatter going quiet and the clink of glasses muffled. There’s only me, Aiden, the fresh orange juice I just ordered, and this freaking perfect match I’m making. I am on fire.
“No,” I say at last when Aiden’s question registers in my brain. “They’re not making me do anything. But you have to see this pairing, Aiden. They’re, like, made for each other and they’ve never even met—”
“One day,” Aiden murmurs against my neck, his palm sliding around to cup my small baby bump, his thumb stroking me through my sweater, “one day soon, you’re going to slow down, Grace. You’re going to take time off, and let me rub your feet in the evenings, and lord it over me that you’re creating our baby inside you. Boss me around like you should.”
“Yeah, yeah.” I wave a hand, still typing with the other. “Miracle of pregnancy, yada yada. Idorest, but this match—”
“It’ll keep.”
“It’s love, you boob!” I finally stop typing to swing around on my stool, looping my arms around my husband’s neck. He watches me calmly, green eyes crinkling with amusement, and braces his hands on my hips. The sounds of the bar fade back in, Elvis crooning from the corner. “How would you feel if we’d taken an extra nine months to find each other?”
“Very sad.” Aiden leans closer, smirking beneath his coppery beard. “But don’t pretend this isn’t about your perfect record.”
Ugh. Please.This is not about my record.
Not entirely, anyway.
Although… I chew on my bottom lip, glancing over at the dark windows. My shoulders are getting pretty stiff, and my eyes are dry from staring at a screen. Maybe I should call it a night.
Aiden grins when I flip my laptop closed, then drags a stool next to mine, folding his strong arms on the bar. He peers at my orange juice, leaning in for a quick sniff.
“Hey!” I swipe my glass away, sucking on the straw. “Your pregnant wife is not drinking booze in a bar, Aiden McRae.”
“No.” A big hand reaches over and kneads my stiff shoulder. “She’s just working herself into the ground, all for the love of two strangers.”
Yeah, okay. Guilty as charged, so maybe Iwilltake some time off. Like Aiden says… it’ll keep.
We could hole up in the cabin together. I could eat snacks and watch Aiden paint, distracting him while he works on his fancy commissions. Or maybe he’ll paint me again.
He does that, sometimes. There are dozens of canvases with my face and body on them already—enough for a whole exhibition.
Damn, he’d better not show those in a gallery. Those poses were private.
“Grace.” A panicked voice filters through the chatter of the bar. I turn and find Nina, a young woman I’ve been working with in the Cloudy Lake coffee shop lately. We keep each other company most mornings, swapping jokes over our laptops. Nina’s good fun, especially once she starts ranting about her horrible boss. “Grace. Oh my god, what have you done?”
I frown at my friend, taking in her wild black hair, scraped up in a lopsided bun; her flushed cheeks and her wide gray eyes. Nina normally dresses in cute skirts and blouses, but tonight it looks like she ran to the bar in a sweater and old leggings.
“Um.” I rattle the ice in my glass. “It’s just orange juice.”
“No.” She’s still staring at me with those wide, horrified eyes. Beside me, Aiden tenses on his stool, inching closer. So protective, even though Nina’s no threat. “No—the match. I’m talking about my match.”
Oh, yeah. Nina’s one of my best success stories. She’d been lonely and bored in Cloudy Lake, and though things got better once we started hanging out, it was the Soulmate match I made for her that really turned things around. She’s been swapping messages with a mountain man, telling him her secrets and getting closer. Sighing about him over lattes.
