He could do this.For one day, he could pretend nothing was wrong.
The road stretched out in front of them.Kilometer after kilometer of highway, a black ribbon gleaming in the spring sun.They talked the whole damn way.Ten hours, and somehow they never ran out of things to say.
Fern read him her birthday texts as they rolled in, every one of them making her smile that much brighter.
“Charity says surprise getaways are the best,” she announced as they passed through Swift Current.“And that I should ask for riding lessons.”
Cody snorted.“You’re already a good rider.”
“I think she’s remembering her own surprise escape.She also says, and I quote—‘tell your ridiculously hot not-boyfriend that if he fails to find you birthday pie, he’s dead to me.’”Fern tilted the phone so he could see the winking emoji.“Any rebuttal?”
“Only that I’m not sure whether to be offended that she thinks I can’t find you pie or flattered at the hot comment.”
Fern snickered.“Here’s from Rose.She says, ‘Hope you’re having a perfect day, and that you know how lucky you are.’”
Heat prickled under his collar, but he kept his eyes on the road.“Pretty sure I’m the lucky one.”
The silence that followed was soft and golden.She reached across her body and laid her hand on his thigh, her thumb stroking little circles as if she knew exactly how to quiet the noise in his head.
When Tansy’s message came through, Fern cracked up so hard she had to wipe tears off her cheeks before she could read it aloud.
“Oh, this is golden,” she gasped, voice wobbly with laughter.“Tansy says—‘Seriously, this is why I’m jealous you have Cody.Best platonic guy friend ever.Who else would drive you to another province on your birthday?Buy that man a sandwich.’”
Cody barked out a laugh, his chest going tight in the best way.“She really has no clue, does she?”
“Not even a little.”Fern shook her head, still giggling.“God, she’s going to feel so silly when she figures it out.”
“Or smug,” he pointed out.“She might act as if she knew all along.”
She gave him a look, all dry amusement.“She’s not that good an actress.”
Dinner in Yorkton was better than he’d dared hope.Just the two of them in a little restaurant that smelled like roasted garlic and fresh bread.They both ordered steak, and Fern enthusiastically matched him bite for bite.
“You’re beyond pretty,” he said as she dabbed sauce from her lip.“But I think the fact you can eat like a lumberjack makes me even hotter.”
Her foot nudged his under the table.“Stop it.”
Not likely.
Later, when they walked back to the hotel, the night air was cool and clean.Fern looped her arm through his, leaning her head briefly on his shoulder.He wished the moment could stretch on forever, the simple sweetness of being hers.
The hotel pool was nearly empty, and for once, he didn’t feel self-conscious about the faint tremor in his hand.Not with Fern floating close, her leg brushing his as they drifted together in the warm water.
“Don’t you dare start worrying,” she said, her voice soft as her fingers slid over his wrist.“Not tonight.”
He swallowed.“I’m not.”
She raised a brow.“Liar.”
He didn’t have a comeback because she was right.He was always worrying about something.The test results, the future, about what she’d have to carry if things turned out the way he feared.
But when she kissed him, none of it mattered.Not for those precious seconds.
When they finally tumbled into bed, her hair a dark halo on the pillow, her hands tugging him down, he let himself stop thinking altogether.
It wasn’t rushed, or clumsy, or full of desperation this time.It was slow, deliberate, and so good it almost broke him apart.She gasped when he pressed into her, pleasure a whisper against his mouth.
He moved over her in long, unhurried strokes, savouring every sigh, every soft cry, every time her nails bit into his shoulders.She was so beautiful like this.Unguarded, trusting him with all of it.
