Just A Small Town Girl (21 page)

20 weeks:

Fisher, Dustin and Kyle were coming home for a break, so Sam was coming to be with me.

“You got fat” he wrapped his arms around my waist, lifting me into a powerful hug.

“I’m not even half as fat as I’m going to get,” I slapped at his arms until he put me down and cradled my hands over my stomach protectively.

“Okay, okay,” he held his hands up placatingly, “My momma taught me never to argue with a pregnant woman and she told me to bring you these,” he dug into his duffel bag for a second and produced a bag of his mother’s delicious oatmeal cookies.

I snatched the bag away, opening it on my way to the kitchen and stuffing a cookie into my open mouth.

“They always were your favorite huh?” he followed me to the kitchen and immediately opened the refrigerator.

I hopped up on the counter, ignoring the twinge in my back, and watched Sam pull items from my refrigerator, read the nutrition facts, and place them on the counter or back inside.

“What are you doing?” I asked, seeing all of the good stuff seemed to be on the counter.

“I’ve been reading and it looks like you’re not eating a very good prenatal diet,” he tossed a tube of cookie dough on the countertop.

“No! You’re not throwing all of that out are you?” I hopped down and crossed my arms over my chest.

“I am,” he smirked at me before turning back to his evil deed.

“Don’t make me kick your ass Sam,” I pushed him out of the way and started putting things back, “I spent good money on all of this,” and it was delicious, but I wasn’t going to mention that.

“Will you at least let me take you grocery shopping and buy you some decent food?” he asked.

“Will you take me out to dinner first?” I tried to look innocent.

“Yes, but only after and if you don’t argue too much.”

I smiled, “let’s put your bags away and we can go,” I picked up the backpack he’d dropped near my front door and led him down the hall.

“Holy hell, I’m guessing it’s a girl,” he gestured around the room at the white crib with pink bedding I’d set up myself and pink polka dots Rose had helped me paint onto the walls.

“If not I’ve got a lot to return,” I laughed.

Two hours and three hard won boxes of teddy bear shaped cookies later, I sat in the diner glowering across the table at Sam. I finally gave up on our mini stare down to salivate over the breakfast platter pictured in the menu.

“Get egg whites instead of scrambled, it tastes the same girl,” Sam commanded and I stuck my tongue out at him, slapping my menu down on the table.

A shadow was cast over the table and I smiled prettily up at the waitress. James, the girl Fisher nearly beheaded the last time we were at the diner, smiled back. “I’ll have a short stack with a side of sausage and eggs, scrambled, and could I have toast please?” I sang out.

“Wheat toast please,” Sam added, glaring at me. I’d been reasonably well behaved in the grocery store, so I thought I deserved a reward in the form of super cheesy scrambled eggs, but I didn’t fight him on the toast.

“Sure thing,” James smiled an ‘aren’t you a cute couple’ smile at us and I made a puking motion the second she turned her back.

“We really weren’t in love were we?” Sam grinned across the table at me.

“Not even close,” I laughed past the hint of pain in my chest at the memory of the one time I had actually been in love, “When you do fall in love you’ll see how different that is to what we had.”

I put my hand on top of his on the table top and he leaned in close.

“I still got to bang you,” he whispered, laughing while I smacked him on the shoulder, banishing him to his side of the table once again. I couldn’t help laughing along though, somehow laughing with him about our failed marriage made the entire situation more bearable.

“Wow, you really are a cheating slut,” Kyle cast a shadow over our table when he stopped to share the bitter words.

“Excuse me boy, I don’t think you knew who you were talking to,” Sam stood, leaping to my defense while mortified tears pricked at my eyes.

“Actually I do, she’s my best friend’s ex-girlfriend and I gotta warn you man, she gets around.” Kyle put his hands up to placate Sam, assuming he didn’t know me very well.

“Actually you don’t asshole; she’s been my best friend since we were in diapers. I took her out to dinner, as friends, because she’s going through some shit that actually has everything to do with your ‘best friend,’ so why don’t you carry your happy little ignorant ass out of here and tell your friend to be a man,” Sam stood nose to nose with Kyle, staring him down.

“Okay and here is your short stack,” James announced, trying to inch her way between the two men.

“Fuck,” Kyle breathed out, sliding into the booth next to me as if he hadn’t just insulted me badly enough that Sam felt the need to come to my rescue.

Sam sank into the booth across from us, his face puzzled.

“Sorry about that,” Kyle snatched a piece of sausage from my plate and Sam glared at him until he put it back, “I’ve just been with Fisher non-stop for the past four months and all he does is bitch about you, but he won’t say why you guys broke up. Then one night he gets drunk and starts going on about you cheating on him.” Kyle snagged James and ordered his own order of sausage and eggs. “I didn’t believe it at first, but then I saw you here with this guy and I assumed…”

“This is Sam,” I gestured across the table, “He’s my ex-husband-
Ex
because we make better friends than marital partners and because he can’t keep it in his pants.”

“Guilty,” Sam smirked from across the table and I glared at him.

“I still haven’t forgiven you, so don’t push your luck,” I speared a sausage with my fork and watched him cringe at the visual, smirking to myself.

“You were married?” Kyle asked, I didn’t turn to see the shock I could hear in his voice.

“For a year,” I exclaimed, wishing it didn’t count.

“You filed before our first anniversary, so less than a year,” Sam interjected.

“You cheated before we’d been married a month, so far too long,” I made my voice sugary sweet.

“Whoa, time out,” Kyle tried to keep the peace, earning glares from both of us, “So why are you here instead of wherever Piper comes from?”

“I came to visit, she needs support for,” I shook my head slightly, “She needs me here because she’s having a tough time with Fisher being around.”

I glared, that was only slightly better than saying I needed him because I was pregnant.

Kyle left dinner first, saying he had a party he needed to get to. He and Sam seemed to hit it off pretty well after the initial roughness, so I wasn’t surprised to hear them exchanging information as Kyle invited both of us to the party.

After we finished eating and my tummy was full of cheesy, buttery goodness, Sam drove us home, carrying all of my groceries up to my apartment without my help. I wouldn’t have offered if I thought he might want me to, I was too tired to do much more than sit at my table while he put the vegetables, juices, and other healthy foods away around my kitchen.

“So, that party,” Sam leaned against the counter to face me.

“I’m too tired,” I yawned, “but go if you want to.”

“Are you sure?” even if I wanted him to stay I could never have fought off the excited smile that crept across his cheeks.

“Yes, GO!” I shooed him away with a limp hand.

“And if I want to bring a girl back-”

“Go to her place, that’s my daughter’s nursery!” I was suddenly wide awake.

“Calm down girl I’m only joking,” he chuckled to himself before walking down the hall to change his clothes.

I headed to my own room and changed too, slipping my legs into yoga pants and stretching a t-shirt over my belly. I laughed at the little strip of skin that peeked out of the bottom no matter how much I tugged the fabric down.              

“Get some rest,” Sam said from the door of my bedroom where I sat up in bed reading a pregnancy book.

“I will, I just want to finish this chapter,” I smiled, sure he noticed the bags under my eyes.

“Good, well I’m heading out,” he threw his thumb over his shoulder, “I’m probably not coming home,” he paused, shrugging his shoulders, “so this is awkward.”

“Have fun,” I got out of bed and stood on tiptoe to kiss his cheek, “and use protection. Otherwise,” I pointed at my belly.

Sam laughed before tucking me back into bed and leaving. Half an hour later I was three chapters beyond the chapter I told Sam I would finish before going to sleep when a knock at the door pulled me out of bed. I assumed Sam forgot something and grew a little frustrated he hadn’t just walked in. By the time I opened the door I was ready to smack him around a little.

“The door was-” I stopped at the sight of the boy I loved standing before me.

“Fisher?” I had imagined seeing him again, but I always imagined a chance encounter at the mall or pulling up next to each other at a stoplight, I never imagined a deliberate interaction at my front door.

“Can I come in?” he asked, gesturing toward the open door and I nodded, moving aside.

The lights in the living room were off, but a faint glow emanated from my bedroom, making his bare chest and gray sleep pants visible to my tired eyes.

I sat on my loveseat, hoping he would sit on the couch so I could see him. I wanted to know why he’d come, but I was content to look at him for an hour or two and never hear the possibly terrible things he had to say. His pants hung low on his hips and I could see his tattoo peeking out, just above the waistband of his boxer briefs. His hair was about the same length as it had been in the video Bailey showed me and I couldn’t help wanting to run my fingers through it. His body seemed more cut than before he left, his shoulders a little broader and I wanted to run my tongue along each one of his well-defined abs. I licked my lips at the thought, imagining the heat of his skin searing into my lips.

“Stop looking at me like that,” Fisher snapped, his tone cold.

“Like what?” I forced myself to look at his face.

“Like you want me,” he bit out, “I heard Sam’s here.”

I shook my head, “He went out.”

“Good,” Fisher whispered, grabbing my arm and using it to hoist me up into his arms.

Before I could ask what he meant his lips were on mine, claiming me. Obviously they didn’t understand I’d been his all along. I responded, opening my mouth to him and moaning at the simple pleasure of having his tongue on mine. I hadn’t realized how much I missed his touch until that moment.

Reading my mind, Fisher trailed his fingers under my shirt, tracing my spine that suddenly didn’t ache so much with soft touches until he slid the shirt over my head, leaving my top half bare to rub against his.

My sensitized nipples grazed the hardness of his chest and I cried out, enjoying the sensation and prompting him to cup my breasts, one in each hand. He traced the outline of my lips with his tongue at the same time he ran his thumbs across the nipple, making me gargle out noises I knew I’d be embarrassed about later.

I ran my nails down his back until my hands could slip inside his boxers to grip his behind and pull the hardness in his pants closer to the need in mine. He immediately dropped his hands to the waist of my yoga pants, ripping them and my panties off my body in one frantic jerk. I stepped out of them, pulling his pants down as well.

Fisher led me to the couch and helped me kneel on the cushions. He positioned each of my hands on the back and used his knee to nudge my legs further apart. When he was satisfied with my positioning he slid himself inside, holding my hips and muttering a curse as he did.

“I’ve been thinking about this for months,” he whispered to no one, his thrusts strong and rhythmic. I moaned as he picked up his pace, grunting as he did.

There was something methodical about this time. There were no soft caresses or sweet kisses, just sex. While I may have enjoyed the carnal power of just sex under other circumstances, it felt wrong with the man I loved, but hadn’t seen in four months.

Fisher grunted his release, his body stiffening over mine.

“That feels good,” he murmured, to me this time, as he pulled out, “I knew I could take you from him,” he leaned down to kiss my lips, but I leaned away.

“Is that what this is about?” my voice shook, “This was some sick competition with Sam?”

“No, it’s about you,” he trailed a hand along my hair, “You were mine first.”

I stared at him. This was the man I loved? A man who’d called me a slut and let himself become consumed by jealousy? A man who would have sex with me just to get even with another man? It didn’t feel like I was staring at the person I’d fallen in love with, but I guessed you never really knew a person.

I searched for my t-shirt in the semi-dark and pulled it on, throwing Fisher’s pants at him before I pulled my own on. I really just wanted to shower him off of me, but I had some things to say and I preferred not to say them naked.

I crossed my arms over my chest and waited for him.