Sophie Oak - One to Keep

“You’re going to have to deal with him, you know.” Rye sounded as sure as Jennifer had when she’d said the same thing.

Stef brushed his coat off. “I know.”

But first he would deal with his willful sub. He felt in his coat pocket. Her silky panties were still there, but so were a few other items. He knew exactly how he would deal with her.

* * *

“They’re beautiful,” Holly said, staring at the canvases Jen had brought into the town hall. “They’ll go for a lot of money, sweetie.

It’s a great thing you’re doing.”

Holly pushed a piece of paper in front of Jen, which she quickly signed, officially donating her work to the charity auction. Stef would probably throw a fit, but it made her feel good. Her pride had been bruised when she found out the only person who had bought her work was Stef, but Holly’s admiration meant something.

“And you can keep this one until I can get this out to the Harper Stables?” Jen asked as she turned over the painting she’d decided to give Rachel.

Holly patted the covered canvas. “Absolutely. I’ll lock it up. Just let Rachel know where she can get it.”

“Thanks,” Jen said as she pulled her gloves back on and walked to the front of the town hall. The whole place was decorated in a winter theme. Jen smiled and waved at the people signing up for volunteer work or paying their entry fees to various functions. There was a snowboarding competition this afternoon it looked like. The first round was today, and the championship round was tomorrow. A line of young men stood waiting to get their numbers assigned.

Jen pushed through the double doors and crossed the street to get to the park grounds. The heavenly scent of coffee filled her nostrils and reminded her that she’d skipped breakfast in an attempt to avoid Master Stefan. She frowned. Maybe that had been a mistake. She’d agreed to the whole Dom/sub thing and then immediately did what he’d asked her not to. She was going to get a spanking.

Yeah, she was totally looking forward to that.

“Hey!” Callie jumped up and down, waving her gloved hands.

She stood in the coffee line. “You want something?”

“Yeah, just a coffee would be great,” Jen yelled back. She marched through the neatly plowed park grounds to where Rachel stood, Quigley sitting at her side. She was bundled from head to toe.

Jen felt a rush of affection for the pregnant woman.

She’d missed her friend’s pregnancy. How had her mother done it? How had she walked out on the people she knew? Her mother hadn’t been a bad person. She’d been flaky, but sweet. When Jen thought about her, it was as a smiling, laughing presence. There wasn’t a mean bone in her mother’s body, yet she’d walked out on everyone who ever cared about her because it was easier than fighting.

Or, was it just that her smiling mother couldn’t handle the responsibility? Being a part of a community, of a town or a family or just a group of friends, meant working at it. It meant putting them before yourself at times. That was what her mother couldn’t handle.

Hell, if Jen didn’t call her, she wouldn’t ever speak to her mother. She often worried about what would happen if her mom lost the cell phone Jen had given her. Her mother would just be gone.

Like she had been gone.

“Hey,” Rachel said, walking over. “I’m supposed to be the hormonal one. Why are you crying, sweetie? What did Stef do?

’Cause I can sic Max on him.”

Jen shook her head. “It wasn’t Stef. It was me. I left.” Rachel reached out, putting a hand on her shoulder. “Yes, you did.

The going got tough and you walked. You left your friends, and you didn’t look back. You didn’t write. You didn’t call. You cut us off like we didn’t mean a thing.”

Well, that was Rachel, Jen thought. If she wanted constant sympathy, she should have gone to Callie. Rachel told it like it was.

“I ran once,” Rachel continued. “I left everything behind, and do you know why I did it?”

“Because you had a crazy stalker guy after you,” Jen managed to get out.

“Yes, but more importantly, I didn’t have anyone to help me. My folks were gone. I didn’t have a family to rely on. My friends all gave up on me. I was alone. You weren’t. You are never alone when you’re here.” Rachel stared at her. “So my question to you is, how long before you run again?”

“Never,” Jen stated resolutely. “I am never leaving again. This is my home. I want a life here, and if that’s a life without Stef, then I’ll make it. I’m going to try this thing with him for a while because I love him, but if he can’t love me back, then I’ll open my own studio, and I’ll make it work.”

Rachel’s lips curved up slightly. “Are you making your stand then?”

“I am making my stand.” She would have Stef or she wouldn’t, but she wouldn’t leave her home again. She wanted everything that went with this crazy place. She wanted to gossip and be gossiped about. She wanted to get pulled into Nell’s volunteer work and chase aliens with Mel. She wanted to go to town hall meetings. She wanted to love her friends and neighbors so much that they could fight and still be friends. She wanted roots more than she’d ever wanted anything else.

Rachel smiled brilliantly and pulled her in for a hug. “Then I’ll stand with you. But you should know I’ll kick your skinny ass if you try to leave again.” Rachel shook her head. “Damn, girl, eat a burger sometime. I hate you.”

“No, she doesn’t, Jen,” Callie said, walking up with her hands full of covered coffee cups. Callie shook her head at Rachel. “What is wrong with you? Jen, she’s past hormonal. Pregnancy must be making her mean if she’s got you crying.” Rachel snorted. “I didn’t make her cry. She’s all emotional about being home. I called her a skinny bitch.” Callie nodded as she passed out the cups. “Oh, that’s sweet.

Here’s your tea.”

Rachel grumbled but took the cup. “I miss coffee. And I need a damn beer. Oh, look, it’s a supermodel.” Laura Niles walked up with a little wave. She looked practically perfect in her tailored coat, skinny jeans, and knee-high boots with what looked to be a five-inch heel. She strode over confidently, her blonde hair curling in waves. “Thanks, sweetie. Can I touch today, or will I get my head bitten off?”

Rachel grinned. “Sorry, I’m taking the hormone thing to its fullest horror. I’ve found the rounder I get, the more crap people are willing to take from me. Go ahead. Rub for luck.” A little wistful look came over the beautiful blonde’s face as she touched Rachel’s stomach. “He kicked.”

“Yeah, he does that all the time now.” Jen felt her heart clench. “It’s a boy?”

“According to the doctor. I’m going to be hopelessly outnumbered,” Rachel said. “He claims there’s only one in there.

Christopher Stefan Harper.”

“Stef?” Jen asked.

“Yes, Stef was the one who made me realize I could handle both those men. He was the one who brought us together.”

“If we have a girl, we’ve decided to name her Stephanie,” Callie said with a hopeful smile. “Because he brought us together, too.” Laura straightened up, brushing away a little tear. “Stef is good to everyone here. Thanks, Rach. You know I need a baby fix every so often. Now, Callie, do you know where Nate is? I need to talk to him.”

“He’s back at the station last I heard,” Callie said.

Laura waved good-bye and started to walk toward the station house, those impressive heels somehow not sinking into the ground.

Jen knew if she tried to walk in those, she would be slogging, but Laura Niles seemed to float gracefully above the surface.

“I hate her,” Rachel said, shaking her head.

“No, you don’t,” Callie immediately replied.

“She doesn’t waddle. I waddle. I also bet she doesn’t pee forty times a day and worry whether or not she’ll fit into the bathroom stalls. I worry I’m going to get stuck and Max and Rye will have to grease me down to get me free.”

“Well, she doesn’t have two superhot cowboys to go home to,” Jen said. She was starting to get into the rhythm. She relaxed and looked forward to the day.

“She doesn’t need them,” Rachel replied. “She can go home and make love to her footwear. Damn, I’d like to get into that woman’s closet.”

“Who’s that?” Callie asked, her jaw dropping just a little.

Rachel’s eyes widened, too. “No idea. Wow. He’s big.”

“And gorgeous.”

Jen followed their line of sight. Two big men stood across from them at the funnel cake stand. One was huge. He had to be six foot five at the least. He was big and broad, with inky black hair peeking out from under the hat he wore. He turned to her, and his dark eyes held hers for the briefest of moments before sliding away. He leaned over to talk to his slightly smaller companion. The smaller man had nothing on his friend. Jen doubted anyone would look at him when they could stare at the gorgeous god of a man next to him. His eyes were too small for his face, his mouth slightly crooked.

“Aren’t you two married?” Jen asked. “Seriously, you have four guys between the two of you.”

“We’re married, not blind,” Rachel shot back.

“Jennifer!”

Jen started at the sound of her name booming across the grounds.

Stefan stalked toward her, walking right past the big guy they were staring at. He wore jeans, boots, and a heavy sheepskin coat. His Stetson was firmly on his head. It was his cowboy clothes. He wore them when he helped out at the stables. Normally he was in slacks and designer shirts, but Jen’s heart always sped up when he went country. He was tall, and his lean strength was on display even under the coat. He was so beautiful.

“You two might not be blind, but Stef seems to think I’m deaf,” Jen said with a shake of her head.

Her friends simply sighed and watched as Stef moved toward her with predatory grace.

“You are in trouble, sub,” Stef said with silky menace.

Yep, it looked like she was.

The sick feeling in the pit of Alexei’s stomach wouldn’t go away.

Though the day was cold, he couldn’t feel it. He couldn’t seem to sense anything but the hollow feeling that permeated his center.

“You want some food? You haven’t had anything all day?” Ivan asked.

Because he kept seeing that girl with the unseeing eyes, her throat split like an unhappy smile. He’d gone through her wallet. Cindy Pope. Aged twenty-one. She had a student identification card as well as her driver’s license and some card that gave her permission to be horny. Ivan had laughed at that, saying something about sluts needing licenses in America, but Alexei knew what it was. It was a joke some friend had given her. Cindy would probably pull it out from time to time and laugh and remember the good time she’d had.

Cindy had no more time. Her last moments of life had been filled with pain and fear, and more than likely gratitude when it was all over. Snuffed out by a monster doing his job.

This was what he’d become. He’d given up who he was and what he’d believed in to get revenge for his brother’s death, but it struck him as he was helping Ivan dump that young woman’s body that it was he, himself, who had truly betrayed Mikhail.

“One,” Ivan said, switching to English as they reached the front of the line.

“Yes, sir,” a friendly-looking man said, turning to the woman operating the fryer.

“Alexei,” Ivan said, slapping him on the chest. “Alexei, are you seeing what I’m seeing?”

Probably not since all he could see was cold limbs and vacant eyes. He forced himself to focus. He let his eyes wander to the place where Ivan was gesturing. There were three women standing together talking. One was painfully pregnant, a large dog at her side. The other was a cute woman with dark hair and glasses, and the third…

Alexei was glad he hadn’t forced food into his stomach because it would surely have come up as he looked at the tall brunette with the slender frame. She was hauntingly familiar. He’d stolen her picture from her home, and it was still in his pocket. She was smiling like she had the night before in the tavern.

“It’s her,” Ivan said, satisfaction dripping from his tone. He had switched back to Russian.

“I don’t know.” Alexei was sure it was her, but he had to try. He had to stall Ivan. His head was spinning. He didn’t have a plan, but he knew he had to do something.

Was he really considering it? Was he really thinking about giving up his revenge? A cold, hard knot formed in his chest. No. He couldn’t. Perhaps he was a bad man for it, but he couldn’t let Pushkin go. Mikhail would forgive him one day, but he was the man Pushkin had made him.