Alone in the Wild(21)

“Definitely not that.”

We dissolve into tipsy giggles. Then I say, “Gotta admit, you looked damn good holding a baby. It suited you.”

His head tilts, and I know he’s catching the note in my voice. A wistful one that says this isn’t a hint that I want a child, but maybe a hint that I’m suddenly feeling the loss of that possibility.

“I might look good in a Speedo bathing suit, too,” he says. “Doesn’t mean I should have one.”

I giggle, making me glad he’s the only one here. It’s definitely not a homicide-detective-worthy sound.

Dalton continues. “Now, if you said you wanted me in a Speedo, I’d get one in a heartbeat. I’m not opposed to them. Just not sure it’d suit me. Not sure it wouldn’t suit me either. The truth is that I’ve never given it much thought one way or another. I could wear one if you wanted me to. Now. Later. Or I could go my entire life without ever wearing one, and that’d be fine, too. Which is exactly how I feel about a baby.”

He adjusts me on his lap. “I said the same thing the first time you mentioned the issue, and that hasn’t changed. I don’t have strong feelings either way. I know you probably can’t have a baby. We could try and see what happens. Or we can decide that’s too stressful and find a way to adopt. Or we can say we’re fine like this, you and me. This ball is one hundred percent in your court, Casey. I’m good with whatever you want.”

“And if that changes? If you realize you want—or don’t want—kids? Would you tell me?”

“Absolutely,” he says, and kisses me.





TEN


We tumble into the house, having consumed about half our cider on the way. Hey, we wouldn’t want it getting cold.

The door isn’t even shut yet before we’re kissing. Dalton doesn’t lock it. He never does. That’s a show of trust … and also a warning. Just try breaking into his house.

Storm knows what’s coming and retreats to the kitchen. Dalton scoops me up and carries me into the living room, where the fire burns low. I have him undressed before we reach the bearskin carpet. I may make a few comments about how good he’d look in a Speedo. Totally true. He has a swimmer’s lean muscled body, and I thoroughly admire it while he stokes the fire.

We aren’t in any hurry. We can’t leave for the First Settlement until close to dawn, so we take our time in the firelight. Afterward, he’s lying on his back on the rug, and I’m stretched out on top of him, tracing my finger through a sheen of sweat on his chest.

“Definitely getting you a Speedo for Christmas,” I say.

He chuckles. “Good luck with that in Dawson. Not much call for them there. Not much use for one either, at this time of year.”

“I’ll stoke the fire so you can wear it indoors.”

He’s about to reply when someone bangs at the door. It’s loud and insistent enough that we can’t just be quiet and wait for them to go away. Dalton starts reaching for his jeans. Then he stops, muttering, “Fuck it,” and grabs a blanket from the pile. He swoops it out, letting it fall over us, and then calls “Come in!” as he adjusts the blanket to cover everything it should cover.

The door opens. Footsteps sound. Then the howl of a baby, followed by Jen’s voice. “Yeah, I’d scream, too, kid. No one wants to see that. You guys do have a bed upstairs, don’t you?”

“The fact we’re not dressing to answer the door suggests we’re expecting this to be a short visit,” Dalton says.

“Oh, it will be. I’m just dropping off your kid. Hope you were done, because this is going to put a damper on things.” She holds out the baby, who obliges with a howl.

“What’s wrong with her?” I say, sliding off Dalton, blanket to my chest.

“Huh. I don’t know. Maybe … the screaming? She won’t settle. She’s fed. Changed. Ready for bed and furious. She’s making it very clear that Auntie Jen isn’t who she wants.”

“Well, I don’t think she’s looking for us, either. She wants her parents.”

“Close enough.” She holds the baby out again.

I motion for her to turn around, and she says, “Neither of you has anything I haven’t seen before but fine.”

Once she’s turned, I yank on my undershirt and panties, and Dalton pulls on his jeans. Then I take the baby, who peers at me, head swaying as if trying to focus. Her lower lip trembles. When she lets out a cry, it’s not the howl from before, but she’s clearly gearing up for it. I pass her to Dalton.

“Me?” he says. “She doesn’t want—”

I move his hands, so the baby is pressed against his chest, as she was on the way to Rockton. She fusses for a moment and then settles against him.

“I think she likes you,” Jen says.

“It’s my smell,” he says. “I carried her back to town.”

“Whew. ’Cause otherwise, that kid is already developing a shitty taste in men.” She pats the baby’s back. “Wait until you’re a teenager for that.”

Jen off-loads a pack from her back. “All the supplies.”

“Whoa, wait,” I say. “We need to leave first thing in the morning, which means we need a good night’s sleep.”