for my husband... a real life Joe... just without the tractor...
I woke to the smell of bacon frying and for a brief moment, wondered if I were still dreaming. But when I turned my head my eyes fell on the large indent in the pillow next to mine. The earthy scent Joe carried everywhere lingered to greet me. I jolted at the memory of waking up in the middle of the night to the solid warmth of his body beside mine, the strangely comforting presence of his large hand on my hip.
A small part of me had wanted to wake him up, to take advantage of having a man in my bed again, to see how far he'd let me go, how much I could use him to rid myself of the constant craving I suffered from. I wanted to reach down and wrap my hand around his cock, to see if it was as thick, hard and warm as I remembered. I wanted to wake him slowly and hear him moan, catching the gasp of his surprise in my mouth as I leaned in to kiss him, feeling him grow more eager when he woke to realize what I wanted.
But I didn't. I couldn't. I'd never shared a bed with a man and just slept with no expectation of sex. It felt a little weird. I didn't know what to do with myself, what to think of it, how to relax, so I just laid there and waited for sleep to drag me off again.
And now he was cooking breakfast, bacon and eggs—my favourite. I shifted my weight and slid from beneath the sheets. My stomach lurched and clenched rebelliously. I gasped, my head swimming, as I bolted from the bed and ran down the hall to the bathroom. I made it to the toilet just in time to say goodbye to the meager contents in my stomach.
I slumped onto the bathroom floor as the first wave of retching ebbed and I let fall the tears that always accompanied my being sick. I fucking hated this hollow, horrible, dizzy feeling. The ceramic tile felt cool against my body though, and the solid smoothness of the toilet gave me something to hold on to as my stomach heaved again and again.
His gentle hands stroking my hair and the soft, soothing rhythm of his voice made me cry all the harder. I didn't deserve his kindness and knowing it only made it worse.
"Oh darlin'," Joe murmured as he sunk to the bathroom floor beside me and gathered me up against his chest. "I'm so sorry."
"W-what are
you
sorry for?" I hiccupped into the soft fabric of his t-shirt.
He chuckled. "For putting you here. For not being able to make it better." He smoothed my long hair from my damp, clammy face and held it back before tipping my chin up with his free hand.
I tried to turn away. I was blotchy and pale and had just thrown up; this wasn't my finest hour, but Joe's hold remained firm.
"Are you okay?"
I nodded. My stomach ached from its recent revolt and my throat burned, but I was sure I was done being sick for the moment.
"I-it's not usually that bad," I said weakly. "But the smell of bacon..."
Joe blanched. "I'm sorry Rhi, I just wanted to surprise you. I wanted you to eat something. I don't think you're getting enough to eat, you look so thin."
I laughed. I'd never been described as thin before.
Joe's eyes were a stunning, bright blue as he watched me. He didn't say anything for a moment, but just let his gaze roam over my face. He studied me so intensely, I wanted to hide from him, afraid he could read my mind with those sapphire eyes. "Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?"
I snorted. "Don't tease me Joe. I just puked in front of you."
He released his hold on my hair, letting it tumble again around my shoulders before he ran his fingers as best he could through the tangled morning mess. "And you're still beautiful. I've always thought you were beautiful. The first time I ever saw you I thought that. You were wearin' a blue dress and you were laughing." He shifted to his knees and reached over to pour a glass of water from the sink and offered it to me.
My eyebrows shot up, but I dutifully took the water and rinsed away the sick taste in my mouth, which made me feel better—slightly. Joe found my toothbrush and squirted some toothpaste on it before he handed it to me. I let him help me to my wobbly feet without argument and gratefully set myself to the task put in front of me. It was a few minutes before I spit, rinsed, and sat back down. The mint toothpaste had chased away the lingering sick flavour, but I still felt a little woozy.
"You remember what I was wearing?"
"A blue dress with little white flowers and your hair was up off your face. It was shorter then than it is now; I like it long, it suits you."
I shook my head. I couldn't even remember the first time I met Joe. He'd always been in the background whenever I visited the Tanner's farm. He was as much as part of it as the rolling red soil fields, the tidy yellow house, and the endless crash of the sea against the base of the bluff.
Joe refilled my glass of water and then sat back down beside me on the floor with his knees up and his arms crossed over them. He wore just his t-shirt and boxers and in the bright light of the bathroom I noticed for the first time that even the hair on his arms and legs was red.
"I wanted you then, like I want you now, Rhi. I shouldn't have, shouldn't now, but I do." He turned his head to look at me again and my breath caught in my throat. "That night at Lilly's... I couldn't believe it, couldn't believe that it was happening, that you might want me too, at least a little, at least a fraction of how much I wanted you."
I was stunned speechless. All those years and he'd never let on. I never would have guessed.
"I'm sorry if I've come on a little too strong this week, if I've seemed demanding," he murmured. "That night, I thought I had everything, and then just as quickly you were gone again. And I let you go, because I was scared if I didn't, if I tried to hold on too hard, that you'd just disappear or that you'd hate me and I couldn't stand to think of you hating me."
Joe ran his hands through his hair before resting his palms against his forehead. "When you came out to the farm the other day I was shocked and angry. You were just standin' there in the sunshine, so beautiful and so unchanged, just like you always looked... and I was so... different... after being with you. It killed me to think that I was just another notch on your bedpost. And I wanted to hurt you back. And then when you told me..." his voice caught roughly in his throat.
"It seemed like everything was so clear after you told me. You'd have to marry me, have to be with me, and we'd be a family together. We
had
to be."
I leaned my head against Joe's shoulder. He didn't usually say so much all at once and his words echoed off the bathroom tiles, sounding as hollow as I felt even though I knew they weren't.
Fuck!
I had the urge to cry again, but wasn't sure there were any tears left. I'd cried more in the past two weeks than I had since I was seven.
"It's not that easy though, Joe."
"I know," he whispered. He turned his chin and kissed the top of my head. The gesture made me smile, despite myself. He took my hand, and stroked the ring he'd put on my finger. "I can't make you marry me, even though I'd like to. I want to do the right thing, Rhiannon. I thought the right thing was givin' you my name, giving you a home where we could raise our baby, but I think the right thing is let you make your own decision."
"And you'll live with whatever I decide?" I asked in disbelief.
"I'll try," Joe admitted honestly.
I laughed a little. Until I'd gone head-to-head with Joe-fucking-Tanner, I didn't think there was anyone more stubborn than me. Begrudgingly, I had to admire him for not backing down without a fight.
"No matter what I decide, I hope you'll forgive me," I said. "It was never my intention to hurt you or to put you in this position."
"I know."
I turned and rested my chin against Joe's arm so I could look up at him. "It's hard for me to admit this, but I'm scared Joe. Not just of having a baby, but of everything that goes with it... I--I'm not going to be a very good mother, and that terrifies me."
Joe opened his mouth to argue, but wisely thought better of it when I waved his words off.
"I don't know what it's like to have a family Joe, like you do. To have brothers and sisters and parents who love you. When I was seven my Mum just up and left me alone with my Dad and he was never around much. I was on my own, always on my own. And Dad was forever telling me how much I reminded him of her. What if I'm just like her, Joe? What if I can't deal with having a family? What if I just leave someday and never come back? I can't put you in that position, can't put our child in that position. I don't want to. I'm scared to."
"If you don't want to, you won't" Joe said slowly.
"But how do you know that?" I cried. I pulled my knees up against my chest. "What if I can't handle it?"
"Oh darlin'," Joe laughed his deep, dry chuckle. "Do you really think that you couldn't lean on me? That I'd just let you go that easily?"
My chin wobbled as I tried not to cry. I already looked like hell; crying wasn't going to improve that.
Joe's hands ran up my bare calves. His skin was work-hardened and calloused and somehow the rough texture of them made me shiver. "You're too hard on yourself Rhi, and anyway you're puttin' the cart before the horse. I'm sure you'll be a great mother."
