Dawn Reclaimed

Grant hassled Chance after beating him at darts for the third time. He turned in his darts at the bar and swigged down his beer. "Better luck next time."

"Oh yeah. There's definitely a rematch coming." Chance chortled back. "Bring it on flea bag."

"You know it, scum sucker."

The little town was dark and quiet after the noise and bustle at the bar. Claire slouched in the seat. Pressed her neck against the headrest and closed her eyes. She shouldn't have been so hard on Ginger. She should have been more gracious and appreciative of Janine's help. She should have been friendlier to Jen, Alex, and Sam. And she definitely should not have wolfed down that whole plate of pub fries by herself. She felt like she was going to pop. "Oh, by the way. The baby/bridal shower/ bachelorette party is Friday night. And we're getting married Saturday afternoon."

Grant snickered. "Sounds good to me. I'll be there." He couldn't give her the wedding of her dreams. He knew she had visions of bigger and better things. She wanted to be queen for a day. She wanted the dress, the flowers, the cake, and all the trimmings. She could pretend that none of that mattered. But he knew it did. He had three days left to put together a wedding that she could be proud of. With the help of his pack, he could do it. He kept his lips clamped tightly shut on the drive home. Fearful that he'd spill the beans on what he had planned. "Did you have a good time tonight?"

"Yeah." Claire answered as acres of blackened fields and woods zipped by.

"Something on your mind?"

"No. I'm just tired. Did you win your sixty bucks back?"

"Nope. Did you talk Janine out of that hideous centerpiece?"

"Nope."

Claire slipped upstairs. Avoiding the barrage of questions that would come from Mouse and her insatiable curiosity. She slid into the bed and exhaled a grateful sigh. Grant was tucked in next to her. Cussing as she pressed her frozen toes against his calf.

"Damn woman. Come here." He pulled her closer and tugged the blankets up underneath her chin. "I'll have to get you an electric blanket. You're freezing." He pressed a kiss to her forehead. "I have ways to warm you up."

"Grant. I am huge. How do you propose we're going to do that?" Claire asked. Hedging his hand away from its exploration of her breasts.

"Be fun to try." Grant kissed her with long, slow, coaxing swabs of his tongue. "I'm having fun already," he whispered. The feel of her skin beneath his palm was enough to drive him crazy with want. The brush of her lips against made him greedy with need for more. "Aren't you?" he asked as he inched her thighs apart with his hand. Playfully dabbling along her secret places.

"Grant, I feel as sexy as a basketball," Claire pouted. Her hands had minds of their own. Smoothing down his chest, across his flat stomach and locking on his hard, thick, length. Stroking slowly until a dab of moisture beaded to the tip. Her legs, their own agenda, as they parted beneath his gentle coaxing.

"Basketball is my favorite sport. Very sensual," Grant panted. He was putty in her hands. Practically whimpering and reduced to begging as her hands stroked and caressed him. He tugged at the cotton of her nightgown as she slid down in the bed. Putting her lips where her hands had been. His toes curled in pleasure as her pink tongue circled the pulsating tip of his penis. "I love basketball," Grant breathed. Ramming his hands into her hair and pushing her farther onto his shaft. "That's so good Claire."

Claire suckled and lapped at him. Taking his fullness as deeply into her mouth as she could. For a minute, she felt sexy. Wanted. He writhed and panted beneath her fingertips. As she let them roam wherever they wanted. She felt a sharp tug on her hair.

"Claire stop. I'm going to..." Grant pled. She kept up her gentle assault. Teasing him. Stroking him. Until he had no conscious thought left. "Please Claire. Want you."

His fingers raked up her back. Heels dug into the bed as he struggled for control. "Let go for me," Claire whispered. Liking the way pleasuring her man made her feel. She ran her tongue down his length. Making him whimper. Bucking beneath her. Fists jammed in her hair. Gently, she nipped at his bulging tip with her teeth. Rewarded by groans of ecstasy escaping his parted lips. She stroked him with her palm and took him in her mouth. Increasing pressure and speed until he exploded inside of her.

She felt sexy as hell. Gripping his slick, spent sex in her palm. Planting a trail of kisses up his belly. She forgot about her stretch marks. Her bulging stomach didn't matter. The backache, swollen ankles, and puffy eyes were nothing. She straddled him. Pressing her heat against his as he lengthened and grew. Ready for another round.

Grant cupped Claire's hip and wrapped his fingers around his length. Guiding the pulsating and aching flesh into her slowly and carefully. Balancing her with the palm of his hand planted against her back. Her walls gripped and slicked across his flesh. Quickly delivering him to the brink again. He followed her movements. Letting her guide the speed and depth of each stroke.

Claire hadn't expected her body to respond so quickly to the pleasure of his length. He stretched and filled her. He felt good. Strong and powerful hips delivered pumps and strokes that matched hers. She rocked harder and faster. Spiraling out of control. Her body quaked and quivered as her release zinged along her nerves. Settling in her core in a glorious starburst of sensation and pleasure.

Grant dug his fingers into her hips and pumped hard. Spilling into her. Joining her in orgasm. When they were spent. He gathered her up. Holding her. Their bodies cupped. Fitting together as a singular unit. He nuzzled the nape of her neck. Burying his nose in her fragrant hair. Nestled under the blankets. Snug as two birds in their nest. His hand draped protectively across her belly. "Love you Claire."

"You two babe," Claire whispered. Comfortable and warm in her lover's arms as sleep made her eyelids heavy. She drifted off. Content and secure in her bed with the man of her dreams.

Chapter 69

"What are we doing here?" Gina asked as Hunter guided the SUV into a parking space. The diner was gaily and brightly lit with multicolored lights and blasting fifty's music. "Happy's?" She asked as Hunter held open her door and all but dragged her out of the passenger side.

"I thought you could use something ridiculously high in fat and calories after the day you've had. A little junk food should hit the spot."

Gina read the menu. "A little?" Everything sounded rich and decadent, disgustingly greasy and smothered in layers of cheese. Exactly what she needed. She placed her order, trying to hold back, just a bit, on her excess. Snickering when Hunter placed his and added two chocolate shakes onto the end.

"Not tonight. Tonight you eat," he ordered. Diet soda? No way. Tonight he was treating her to a hidden oasis of chocolate ice cream, juicy hamburgers loaded down with decadent goodies, and spicy golden brown fries smothered in catsup.

Gina blushed, "Yeah throwing shoes takes a lot of energy. I'm really sorry about the way I acted." The kid behind the counter busily gathered up their order and laid it out on a bright yellow plastic tray decorated with an innocuously grinning smiley face.

Hunter paid the kid and took the tray, leading Gina to a deserted corner of the dining room. "I'm not worried about it." He sat down the tray and pulled out a chair for Gina.

Gina shot him a puzzled look and awkwardly sat down. "You didn't have to pay." She thought about her empty wallet and starving checking account, "Ah, actually, yeah you did. But, I can pull out my own chair."

"That's what a gentleman does for a lady."

"I'm not a lady," Gina retorted. Embarrassed and flattered by his old fashioned gesture. She plucked a French fry out of the wrapper and bit down. She was expecting the usual cardboardy, tasteless, limp, soggy fries associated with fast food joints. Flavor exploded in her mouth, hits of pepper and sea salt, and the bite of cayenne tingling on her tongue. Hunter waggled his brow at her sigh of approval and gestured for her to eat up. He certainly wasn't shy as he took a massive bite out of his hamburger.

"And I'm not a gentleman. Here eat." He peeled a straw and thrust it through into the shake. Pushing the cup across the laminated table in her direction, he tore into his food. Gina was a bit more shy, nibbling on the fries and at the edge of her bun.

Gina gingerly unwrapped the burger and took a bite. Flavors sang in perfect harmony together on the tip of her tongue. Seasoned beef melded with tomato, lettuce, mustard, bits of onion, and melted cheese. She had found paradise on a bun. "Oh, that's good." She mumbled through a mouthful as she scrambled for a napkin.

Hunter grinned at the dreamy smile spread across her face. And at the bit of secret sauce that dribbled out of the corner of her mouth. She had a beautiful smile. He thought back. He'd never seen her smile before. For him, he gauged that as progress. He took a healthy bite of his burger and nodded. "Told you so."

Gina sucked on the straw. Wiggling it around to slurp down the last sip of her shake greedily. She stretched out in the chair and surveyed the damage. Nothing remained but the empty wrappers. She could not believe that she had consumed enough calories to feed a small country in one setting. She was miserably stuffed. But content as she could be. "Wow. That was something."

She didn't say anything or point out the obvious. Hunter had slipped her in, fed her, and now was ushering her to the door. Choosing a place to eat without one bit of silverware in sight. That was clever and sneaky. And very much appreciated. "Thanks, Hunter. I owe you supper sometime."

"I never turn down a free meal." He helped her scramble into the SUV and shut the door behind her.

Gina watched the restaurant and the town fade out of sight in the rear view mirror. She was slowly beginning to feel more and more like her old self. She had confronted her demons and knew their faces. There would be more battles ahead of her. More confrontations waited around every turn. At least now, she felt like she could handle them. She couldn't stay here with Hunter and hide away from the world forever. She couldn't return to her old life. She had to make something new out her life. Sort through the pieces, pick out the things she wanted, and get rid of the rest.

Hunter confused her. Sometimes he seemed so attentive and gentle with her. And then other times he was cold and kept his distance. She'd seen him cry. Felt his hot tears run down her cheek. She'd seen him helpless. Standing still as a statue. Tortured but not broken. He admittedly damned himself. Allowing the current to hold him under while he struggled to keep her afloat. He told her to live. Begged her to keep going and start over. When the only thing he wanted was death.

He defined the word contradiction. He wanted things for her that he only dreamed of having for himself. He had every chance to move forward. But held himself back. He couldn't let go of a past that tortured him more than the man ever could have.

She wanted a few more days to sort things out. Come up with a plan. She felt stronger now. Far from complete, but at least able to stand on her own. Soon enough they would part company, perhaps forever. She didn't want it to end that way. She had found a friend and a confidant in Hunter. He had pulled her out of the darkness. Helped her to find her strength again. And for that, she was grateful and always would be. She wished she'd done the same for him. That there was someway she could help him to find himself again. But, he seemed content to drown in his own misery. She couldn't help him, if he wouldn't help himself. She wasn't strong enough to breathe life into him. Rescue him and herself at the same time. Her sense of self-preservation told her that she had to let him go. Otherwise, she might get caught in the undertow and be pulled down with him.

Hunter was all prepared to spend the night on the cramped and narrow sofa in her room. He liked to be close. In case she needed him. But, Gina had gently and somewhat forcefully nudged him out of the bedroom and ushered him into the hallway. He made camp in the hall outside of her door. She was putting distance between them. Weaning off of him. And perhaps, preparing him for the fact that she was leaving. Wasn't that what he wanted? He wanted her to pick her life back up where she'd left off. And she was doing that. Showing independence and strength. So, if he was getting what he wanted. What was his problem?

He slid down the wall. Banging his head against the rough stone surface in frustration. He knew what his problem was. He just wasn't ready to admit it. Gina made him want to live again. He wanted to live for her and because of her. He was ashamed. He hid from his children. Never giving them a chance to know or to love him. He kept his family at arms length. Never letting anyone get close. But somehow in those painful broken hours in which they suffered. She had gotten through to him when nobody else could have.

Another fact shamed him even more. Gina had forced him to face his feelings. She made him own up to what he felt and who he was. She'd made him deal with it. When everyone else skirted around him and allowed him the luxury of his self-destructive pity. She didn't. He thought he was helping her. But, she was helping him. He thought she needed him, but in actuality, he needed her much, much more.

Thomas shuffled through a dozen or so e-mails when one. Sent on a secured link caught his attention. He opened it and skimmed through the contents. An invitation to Claire's big day, she was getting married this Saturday. He paused his finger over the delete button. Tempted to press it and erase the e-mail. For his own sake, he shouldn't go. But for hers, he would. He jotted the time down on his calendar and flicked off the computer.

He had lost the game and lost her. There was nothing he could do. He was out of time and she had made her decision. He had no more fight left in him. And there was really no point to try. He simply waited too long and now he had to deal with the consequences of his inaction. The next time a girl that he had even the slightest interest in crossed his path. He had to believe that eventually, he'd get over Claire. He was going for it, taking no prisoners and accepting no refusal. He was not going to risk losing again.

"Jesus mom! You scared the shit out of me." Thomas growled at the woman leaning casually on the edge of his desk. "How'd you get in here?"

Barbara shrugged, "Front door was unlocked. Hmm. Are you going to the wedding?" she asked. Eying the hastily scribbled note on his calendar, she flipped through the rest of the empty space in his date book.

"Kind of have to," he grumbled.

"I think she'd understand if you didn't want to. Duty only goes so far and you have definitely gone above and beyond what's expected."

"I know. I guess I have to see it for myself. Jab the knife into my gut just one last time. She could back out at the last minute."

"She won't," Barbara said gently. Running her hand through her son's thinning hair, she was pained by seeing him hurting so badly. Pining after a woman he could not have. She felt guilty. If she hadn't gotten so sick and if she'd made him let her go instead of spending all his time and energy on forcing her to suffer through treatment after treatment. He might be bouncing a baby boy on his knee right now instead of wallowing in self-pity.

"I know." Thomas swiveled in his chair and kicked his feet up on the desk.

"That's a priceless heirloom." Barbara corrected, knocking his feet off the desk.

Thomas snorted. "Mom, it came from the thrift store. What are you doing here anyway?"

"I came to check up on my number one son," Barbara said defensively. A mom can do that, you know. As if she needed an excuse to pop by. Often, when she was out, she popped in. Spent hours watching him sleep at night. Her son had sacrificed so much for her. And she felt obligated to return the favor and keep him safe. Anyone or anything that came after him was going to have to get through her first.

"Mom, I'm your only son."

Barbara grinned, tousling his hair playfully. "That's why you're my number one." Thomas shrugged out from under her and smoothed his hair. He hated it when she showed affection this way. She didn't care. He was such a big man now, an adult. But, to her, he was still her baby boy. She snatched him up in her arms and planted a big, wet, mom kiss on his forehead.

Thomas grunted, "Well your number one son is going to bed." He wrestled out of her grip and gave her a peck on the cheek.

"Ok, I can take a hint. I'll let myself out."

"Goodnight mom."

Satisfied that she was really gone when he heard the lock click and the front door close, he shimmied out of his jeans and climbed into bed. The bed was cold and empty, as usual. He tossed and turned. Blocking images of Claire as the blushing bride out of his mind. Sometimes, life wasn't fair. It just wasn't fair.

The next day was a blur for Claire. She got out of bed. Went to work. And before she knew it. The end of another day had come. She was happily relaxing in the rocker by the fireplace. The pack usually sat anywhere they pleased. But, for whatever reason, they left the chair as hers. With as crowded as this place sometimes got. She had her own unofficial space here.

She'd had about a thousand voice mails from Janine on her phone. All assuring her that everything would be in order for her party. Claire couldn't think about the party or the upcoming wedding. Life was too overwhelming right now. She was taking things moment by moment. Hoping the baby didn't decide to make a debut earlier than expected. She kept her lips zipped. Thomas would demand to see her. Grant would totally freak out. She'd had a few contractions throughout the day. They were random and unpredictable, light and fluttery, nothing to get excited about.

She had a million things to do. Her house needed packed up. She had no idea of what she was going to wear on her wedding day. And the suite she and Grant had moved into was a haphazard mix of boxes and stuff tossed here and there. She still had two days of work left. There simply wasn't time for her to go into labor yet. She wasn't ready. "You stay put," she whispered to her baby as she rubbed her hand across her belly.

She hadn't even given much else besides Grant and the baby a thought. She was scheduled to work Wednesday and Thursday. The party was Friday. The wedding was Saturday. Sunday she'd be on her honeymoon. The wedding still seemed surreal to her. She supposed at huge and pregnant there wasn't much use to buy a slinky nightgown for the honeymoon. But, she would like something nice, something pretty to wear down the aisle. She was at the mercy of what the small town had to offer. Too late to shop on line without paying exuberant charges for shipping or take the risk of the packages not arriving on time. She was going to bite the bullet. Wring as much out of her checking account as she could and go shopping.

Another random contraction rocked through her. Making her forget everything but the fluttery crampy sensation in her belly. She breathed through it, massaging her belly. Rocking the chair furiously with her foot as she waited for it to pass. The nurse in her noted the length of the contraction and the time. Reassuring her that false labor could go on for weeks. The mother in her was ready to rock and roll. But, Claire prayed that the baby would just hold off a little longer.

Mouse looked up from her homework. She was stretched out on the rug at Claire's feet, studying the Roman Empire. Boring stuff, but it was better than doing math problems over and over again. The chair rocked furiously as Claire sucked in a deep breath. "Aunt Claire, are you ok?"