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Sarah's expression softens further, her eyes reflecting a mix of sadness and disbelief. "That's... that's awful, Tyler. I'm so sorry you had to go through that."
I shake my head slightly, a wry smile forming. "The craziest part? She thought she could use the pregnancy to bind herself to me somehow. But she miscalculated. When she finally told me about Timmy, she made it seem like she was doing me a favor, keeping it all hush-hush to 'protect' me."
"And the public... they never found out?"
"No, they didn't. When Joyce revealed she was pregnant, I had my lawyer draw up a non-disclosure agreement. She couldn't talk about the pregnancy, our child, or even me. In exchange, she signed away her parental rights, and I ensured she was compensated well enough to start a new life. Far away from us."
Sarah reaches across, her hand finding mine again, this time with a grip that conveys a mixture of empathy and support. "I can't even imagine how hard that must have been for you, Tyler. To deal with all that, and then to take care of Timmy alone."
I nod, feeling a mix of gratitude and relief. "It was tough, yeah. But having Timmy? He makes it all worth it. Everything else falls into place."
The wild uproar of a storm outside quickly drowns out the clink of forks and knives against our plates. In no time, the dining room's comfortable vibe gets swallowed by the relentless dance of rain pelting against the windows and gusts of wind that scream like spirited stallions.
Sarah's eyes dart towards the window, her earlier calm replaced by strong tension. "Wow, that storm escalated quickly. It sounds pretty intense out there."
I glance through the window, observing the storm's fury with a nonchalance honed from years of being used to heavy thunderstorms. "It's fine. The cabin is sturdy enough for this kind of weather."
"But it looks dangerous," she protests, her voice laced with a hint of panic.
Sensing her distress, I lean back in my chair, trying to inject a dose of calm into the situation. "Hey, it’s fine. Really. If it's still bad when you're ready to leave, you can always wait it out here. Or worst comes to worst, you can spend the night and head out tomorrow once it's all cleared up."
She chews on her lip, clearly wrestling with the idea. The thought of her staying the night sends an unexpected jolt through me, but I do my best to keep my expression neutral.
Before she can respond, I stand up and head to the kitchen counter near the refrigerator, sensing a need to lighten the mood. I return holding a plate with a big piece of chocolate pecan pie. "Here, try this. I baked it myself," I announce with a hint of pride, placing the plate in front of her.
Sarah's apprehension seems to melt away as she stares at the dessert. "You baked this?" she asks, her voice imbued with surprise.
"Yeah, baking has always been a bit of a hobby," I admit, watching her reaction closely while feeling nervous. I’ve never baked chocolate pecan pie before. This was the second pie I baked today. The first was a failed attempt that went straight into the trash.
I sit down on the same side of the table she’s on instead of across from her like before, maybe because I oddly want to be closer to her. Her sweet perfume scent is stronger this close to her, to the point I’m mesmerized.
Taking her fork, she scoops up a sizable piece of the pie and brings it to her mouth. Her eyes close in appreciation as she savors the taste. "Oh, Tyler, this is amazing," she declares, her earlier worries momentarily forgotten.
With a glowing review of my pie, her anxiety about the storm dissipates. "I... I think I'll be fine staying here until the storm passes," she finally concedes, her voice more robust now, laced with a newfound steadiness.
The storm outside seems to rage with a ferocity that mirrors my heart's racing. It's strange, this feeling as if the universe conspired to lock us away together, away from the rest of the world.
"So, you've got hobbies," Sarah begins, breaking the silence with a playful tone as she takes another bite of the pie. "Baking, huh? What else do you do when you're not being an amazing father or hiding out in your cabin?"
I chuckle at her description, finding her curiosity about my life flattering. "Well," I pause, pondering over my next words. "As you can see with the meal I prepared... cooking as well. The men at the other ranch I used to be at were very sexist. “Cooking and cleaning are things women do”… those were the kind of things they would say. So, I never felt comfortable showing off my cooking skills or baking for our events. I feel I can do that here in Pine Creek. I love experimenting with new recipes."
Her intrigued expression encourages me further. "Really? I'd love to try some of your test dishes sometime," she says earnestly.
With courage I didn't know I possessed, I reached across the small space separating us, taking her hand in mine. "Sarah," I began, my voice barely a whisper. I can't explain this, but..."
The rest of my words are lost as she leans in, and our lips meet in a kiss that feels like a promise. The storm outside might be howling, but here in my cabin, there's only us. Every touch and kiss feels like a discovery of something precious and long-awaited.
I lift her into my arms as I deepen the kiss. The world outside fades away, but the sound of the rain stays. I lift her into my arms from her chair to carry her out of the kitchen.
The thunder is like a soundtrack for us… background music to the passion filling up the cabin as we continue kissing like we never wanted to stop. I carried her through the living room towards the hallway where one of the bedrooms is. My heart pounded against my chest like a drum as I entered the bedroom and lay her on the bed.
“Sarah.. I have no idea what’s going on with us, but I promise I didn’t invite you to the cabin for this. It’s just.. when you kissed me..”
“I hope you’re not about to apologize, Tyler. I am a grown woman, and I kissed you because I wanted to. And I let you pick me up and carry me wherever you wanted because I want you like you want me. Maybe this storm keeping me here overnight is a sign.”
Her words shock me, and she begins to unbutton her blouse while I stare transfixed at her. I start undressing as well, following her lead and hoping that this is really okay. We can’t blame anything on the alcohol tomorrow because we only had iced tea for dinner. Or maybe I’m slightly confused since she looked ready to run in the other direction, just from me offering to buy her a drink at the bar.
Maybe when I opened up to her over dinner, a bond finally grew and forged between us. She sees the other side of me that I rarely show anyone else.
