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We say goodnight again to his father, and Micah puts a hand on my back as he leads me toward his truck. My skin is cold with so little material but it’s worth it for the feeling of his hand on me. Before he opens the door, he shrugs out of his suitcoat.
I wrap myself in it, loving both the smell of his cologne and his warmth. He makes me feel so safe and cared for. Is this how love is supposed to be? Does it go cold to wrap you in warmth?
As soon as we’re in the truck, Micah’s hand finds mine. The way his big hand engulfs mine makes me feel tiny and protected. I think this man would do anything for me, and I’m certain I’d do the same.
“Can I ask you something?” I’m toasty warm since he aimed all the heaters at me. But I still don’t want to give up his jacket. It’s nice wearing something that was on his body. “Where is Abby’s mama?”
* * *
Micah
She askedthe one question I don’t know how to answer. I wish I had something to give her. Something to give my daughter because one day, she’ll ask me that same question. The thought that I won’t have an answer or that worse, she’ll think that it somehow means she’s worthless leaves me wanting to howl with rage. How do I explain to the most perfect little girl in the world that she wasn’t wanted?
The miles pass in silence, and Chloe doesn’t push. Of course, she doesn’t. She’s never been anything less than kind and understanding. But we can’t move forward if I don’t answer these questions. We’ll be forever stuck in this awkward dance, neither of us quite sure where we stand.
“I’m not sure where she is,” I finally confess. What kind of father doesn’t know where his daughter’s mother is? Why don’t I know?
I spend hours every night online, combing through social media posts and forums. I’m looking for clues, something that will tell me who she is and why she gave up her sweet little baby. Something that will tell me where she is and if she needs help. Fuck, I hope she’s not in trouble.
I’ve considered every possibility. Is my Abby the product of an assault? Was she born to a woman facing domestic violence? What made her choose me? How does she know my name? Have we ever met?
“Were you...close with her?”
“No,” I admit. I mean, I couldn’t have been. It’s not like I’m spending my time around pregnant women. I work the ranch and occasionally, I help out a homeless teen. But that’s it.
“So, you never loved her?”
The question nearly breaks me. I can’t figure out how to explain this. If she ever comes back and wants Abby, could I fight her? Would I have any legal grounds? Or would what I’ve done be considered kidnapping? I’m pretty sure you’re not allowed to do finders keepers with a baby, even if someone left her on your porch. Would all of this make Chloe an accessory?
I tighten my hold on the steering wheel at the thought. I can’t risk that. I can’t tell her everything and implicate her. “No. It’s hard to explain and complicated.”
“But it’s over now?” I don’t like the hesitation in her tone. I don’t like the idea that she doesn’t know where she stands with me.
I squeeze her fingers, applying gentle pressure to her small hands. “There’s nothing between Abby’s mom and me. You’re the only woman I want in my life and my bed.”
She chuckles softly. “You haven’t gotten me there yet.”
“Give it time,” I murmur, pressing my lips to her fingertips. Being with Chloe is the most natural thing in the world. Dad always said that when the right woman comes along, you know it. I always thought he was full of smoke but now I get it. Because the moment I saw Chloe, everything in my life shifted. She became mine and only mine. My heart beats for her. For her and little Abby.
I stop the truck in the parking lot of the community center and help her inside. Before I can get her on the dance floor, we’re stopped by so many of the townsfolk. All of them want to make small talk, and I force myself to be polite when I want to drag Chloe onto the dance floor and hold her in my arms.
After I’ve finally managed to excuse us from a conversation with Mayor Banks, I pull her into my embrace. My fingertips touch her back and fuck, her skin is so soft. Is it this soft everywhere? What’s on underneath this? Because I’m not seeing a bra line, and I definitely shouldn’t be thinking about that when I’m surrounded by all of these fine people.
My voice is a deep, rasping growl in her ear that I barely recognize, “Did I tell you just how damn sexy you are?”
“You didn’t,” she says softly.
Did I really do that? Did I not take a moment to appreciate just how incredibly beautiful she is and let her know that? Never again, I vow to myself. Never again will I let a day pass without reminding her of how beautiful and sexy she is.
“Well, you are, and that dress is making my cock hard.” To emphasize the point, I grind my hips against her. Not enough to be indecent right here in the community center. But enough that her eyes widen.
“Yeah, that’s all for you, sweetheart. All nine inches,” I promise.
“Micah! You can’t say stuff like that.” No outrage colors her tone. Her nipples are hard points against my chest, and every time I move, she tilts her pelvis. She’s trying to carefully grind against me. It’s just dark enough in here that no one would notice, not unless they were looking directly at us. Besides, all the couples are lost in their own little worlds, oblivious to the nasty things I’m whispering in my woman’s ear.
I press kisses along her jaw before I nip at her earlobe. Her skin smells amazing. It’s a mix of vanilla and jasmine. At first, I thought it was her perfume. But after spending the last week with her, I recognize that it’s just her sweet scent, something unique to Chloe. “Are you aching? Is that pretty little pussy of yours hurting?”
She groans. “Please.”
