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twenty-two
Brenda had always heard that the publishing industry moved slowly, but apparently things worked differently in the digital world. The publishing company wanted to jump on the current trend of shocking-suburban-secrets domestic thrillers, so they put her book on an accelerated schedule. All of a sudden, she was knee deep in copy edits and cover design questions and…gulp…social media promotion.
It was all new to her, and so different from her ordinary life. It was surreal to go from teaching her fourth-graders multiplication to creating a website. On top of that, her editor wanted her to rework her other books to fit into the same mold so they could make them a series.
“They’re completely different,” she ranted to Galen over a glass of wine one evening in November. This was her favorite part of the day, when her school prep was done, her book tasks for the day were complete, and she could snuggle with Galen on his extra-large couch, wine glass in hand. “Different main characters, different settings, and none of them have sex scenes like this one does. It’d be easier to write an entirely new book.”
“Can you do that instead?”
“Oh sure, I’ll just whip a new book out of my ass. It’s so easy. That’s why it only took me five years to write this one.”
“Well, now you know what you’re doing. Should go faster.” One of his hands was on her neck, rubbing out knots and draining the aggravation from her mood.
“Do I, though? I don’t feel like I do. I feel like I’m fumbling around in a maze, blindfolded. And the book hasn’t even come out yet! What’s going to happen when people read it?”
“I guess you’ll find out soon enough.”
That cheerful answer didn’t do much to reassure her, but his hands on her neck did a lot. So soothing, so relaxing, so blissful.
“What was it like on your first day of teaching?” he asked. Oddly, his rough-edged voice added to the ambiance of deep comfort. She always felt safe with Galen. He could protect her from bears and from worries with equal ease. Thank God he was here during this surprisingly stressful time. What would she do without Galen to snuggle up with? What had she done before him? She couldn’t quite remember.
Back to his question about teaching.
“I was scared out of my mind. But excited too. The kids made it easy. They were running around playing tag, and they all froze when I walked in and played innocent. It was so hard not to laugh.”
“What did you do?”
“I covered my eyes and said, ‘on the count of five, freeze.’ So we played freeze tag for about five minutes. On the last go-round, I said ‘on the count of five, find your seat.’ And they did! I couldn’t believe they actually did what I said. We got along great after that. We almost always started the day with a game of freeze tag just to get their energy focused. Unless there was something big happening like a test, of course. But it’s fourth grade so that doesn’t happen a lot. I love my kids. Every year I think, there’s no way I’m going to love the next class the way I do this one. And every year I’m wrong.”
His hands explored the tendons at the back of her neck, where so much of her tension lived. “You really love teaching.”
“I do. I just wish they paid me a little more. And that’s only because of Granny. I’d be fine if not for her bills.” She sighed at the thought of Granny’s terrible budget-planning. “She’s a very impulsive spender. On the other hand, every single exciting adventure in my life came from her. That’s what she spent her money on—traveling to Egypt on a whim, or renting a beach house for the summer so I could learn to swim in the ocean and not just in the country club pool.”
She felt his chest move as he chuckled. “Looks like you get your wild streak from her.”
“I guess so. If my mother could get it surgically removed, I’m sure she would.”
“She’d have to get through me first.” Galen’s arms tightened around her. “Ain’t no one messing with that wild streak, it’s a beautiful thing.”
If anyone knew about wild things, it was Galen. His beard was now a full inch thick and had begun occasionally collecting twigs again. She reached up and plucked a pine needle from his hair. “Have you been chopping firewood?”
“Felled a tree this morning, a standing dead at the back of the property.”
For some reason, it turned her on when he talked about things like chopping down trees. Watching him was even more fascinating. He was a master with that chainsaw, cutting wedges on one side, just so, so the tree fell exactly where he wanted it to.
She nibbled at his neck, where soft skin met the beginnings of bristle. “Tell me more.”
He glanced down at her, amusement glinting in his eyes. “Want me to show you?”
“Can you leave your shirt off while you do it?”
“Sure, but the pants are staying on. Safety issue.”
She ran her hands down the front of his jeans and felt a soft bulge already swelling. His desire for her was so consistent. So many other things about him were, too. He didn’t hide anything, didn’t pretend to be something he wasn’t. She’d come to know him so well in a pretty short time.
For instance, he had a short tolerance for inside spaces, except for his own home. Whenever they ate somewhere, she could tell the very moment he got antsy. He’d take a quick break, a kind of cigarette break without the cigarette, then come back refreshed. Another thing—when Galen cared about someone, he went all the way. He had the heart of a grizzly, said Redbull. Apparently that was a compliment, even though grizzlies were so rare.
Maybe because they were so rare.
