Frog by Mary Calmes (read along books TXT) 📗

the stricken look on his face, I was guessing not. “Cy—”

“Shut up.”

I didn’t know whether to go back to soaping my body or just continue to stand there.

“God, look at you,” he groaned after a second.

I grunted. “Not pretty enough to fuck, huh? Freckles and moles and white pasty skin don’t do it for you no more?”

His eyes finally lifted to mine. “You’re such an idiot. Don’t you know I love all your freckles, and your body is beautiful and powerful and… I just want to be under you right now.”

“Well unfortunately”—I grinned—“we’re gonna have to wait on that, darlin’.”

His sigh was loud and deep like he just didn’t know what to do with me.

“I, uhm, don’t have nothin’ clean to wear. I don’t suppose you have—”

“I have the sweats I bought the last time you were here and the long-sleeved T-shirts you like to sleep in. Just let me find them.”

“You didn’t throw them out?”

“I couldn’t.”

“I’m glad.” I smiled at him. “Now close the door, ’cause I’m freezin’, and go find out what the hell is wrong with your sister.”

But he didn’t move.

“You all right?”

“You cut your hair.”

I had chopped it off ages ago and now made sure to keep it short. “It’s too much trouble to take care of long hair on the road.”

“It looks darker.”

“Still just plain old red.” I smiled at him. “Like it’s always been.”

“Nothing plain about you,” he said, leaning forward.

I met him halfway, the kiss soft but firm, sucking his bottom lip into my mouth for just a moment.

“I love that you kissed me in front of the kids,” he told me.

“Course.”

“Course,” he repeated, before he turned and left me.

Sometimes the man was just so odd.

When I got out, my pack was empty, the clothes all gone, and my wallet was on the nightstand on what was my side of the bed (closest to the door) whenever I was there. I found sweats, thick, heavy crew socks, and a long-sleeved T-shirt on the bed waiting for me. After I dried myself off, I pulled it all on and walked back out to the kitchen.

“Weber!” Phillip—Pip—yelled, flying at me going full speed and leaping at the last minute.

I plucked him easily from the air, tucked him against my chest, and carried him to the bar on the side of the kitchen that looked out on the great room. The other two boys were already sitting on the tall leather-backed stools eating with their mother as Cyrus flipped pancakes.

“You gonna eat?” I asked Phillip.

He nodded fast before I put him down beside Micah.

“How is it?” I asked Micah.

He beamed up at me, and when I tousled his hair, he reached for my hand.

I took the little hand in mine and squeezed it for a second as I realized that I had not eaten since the day before. “God, I’m starvin’.”

“Sit down,” Cyrus ordered me as I walked around into the kitchen.

I moved up behind him, leaned over and wrapped my arms around the man. I loved hugging him, and the amazing part was that he always let me.

“Thank you for cookin’ so late,” I said, kissing his ear. “I appreciate it, Cy.”

He stilled in my arms and let his head fall back into the crook of my neck. I supported his weight and kissed his forehead, loving the feel of his silky hair in my face.

“So, Weber—” Carolyn cleared her throat. “—where did you come from?”

I gave him a last kiss, a final squeeze, and then stepped free and walked back over to where she and the boys were. “I was in Guthrie, Oklahoma, at a stock show. I showed some horses for a man, did some saddle bronc for exhibition.”

She nodded, her lips pressed together. “And where are you off to next?”

“Alaska.” I sighed. “Gotta be out near Anchorage before Christmas.”

“Why?”

“Oh, I got me a job for the holidays,” I answered, noticing that Tristan was picking at his eggs. “And I need the money.”

“I—”

“Pardon me,” I stopped her, leaning forward, chin in my hand as I looked at her oldest. “You gotta eat them eggs, Tris, or you ain’t gonna get no bigger.”

His dark sapphire eyes flicked to mine.

“I swear you won’t. My mama told me and Spence that the only way we got so big was because we ate everything that was put down in front of us and we slept when we was told.”

“If I eat everything, I’ll get as big as you?”

“Yessir,” I assured him.

“But I don’t like plain eggs.”

“You like cheese on ’em?”

He nodded.

“Well lemme see what we can do.”

I went to the refrigerator, found a bag of shredded cheese, and brought it back and told him to tell me when. Of course, Micah lifted his plate for some, and Pip just started chanting the word for me until I sprinkled at least four tablespoons on his eggs as well.

Once they were all settled, I put it back, took the plate with the pile of eggs, bacon, and pancakes that Cy offered me, kissed him, and leaned against the bar so I could look at the boys and their mother.

“Sorry, you were sayin’?”

Her breath quavered. “Weber, is the job in Alaska going to turn into something more?”

“Not that I know of.” I smiled at her and then at Cy as he put a bottle of Tabasco down beside me. “Thank you.”

“And here,” he told me, placing the tall glass of milk he’d poured for me close as well.

“Y’all want some milk?” I asked the boys.

“Juice is better,” Tristan told me.

“Not this late at night, and milk is always better’n juice. Or water. Water’s best.”

They asked Cy for milk, and Micah smiled at me when he started drinking his.

“Weber.”

I looked back at Carolyn. “Ma’am?”

“Please, call me Lyn, okay?”

I smiled at her.

She sighed. “Would you consider staying here for the holidays and watching my kids for me?”

I squinted at her, certain she’d lost her mind.

“I… the reason I’m here right now is that my husband left for Las Vegas this afternoon with