Page 13 of Finding Home

“Shit,” I groan when nothing happens. It probably needs to be charged. Tossing it to the side, I close my eyes again, determined to not let that keep me from this fantasy.

I slip my fingers into my sleep shorts and slide them through my seam. The wetness pooling there is further evidence of how much that man affects me. Slowly, I dip my fingers inside of myself, gathering more wetness, before pumping into my pussy a few times just to feel the friction before sliding them to my swollen clit. Swirling slow rhythmic circles around the sensitive bud, my breath hitching.

Biting my lip hard to stifle the moan, I continue working myself, picturing Jace between my thighs. I’ve never had anyone go down on me, but I imagine that rough stubble on his cheeks brushing against the inside of my thighs. His blue eyes watching me as he feasts on my pussy. My hips rock against my hand, chasing release. My body heats, and my core goes tight as an orgasm slams through me.

“Jace!” I cry into the dark room, panting, wishing like hell it was his tongue between my legs instead of my fingers. Once my breath returns, I run to the bathroom to clean up, then fall asleep still thinking of those blue eyes.

Sunday of the Summer Berry Festival is my favorite. The town all shows up to eat, play, and have fun. The street dance will start soon, the band on stage tuning their instruments, and the crowd is growing steadily in anticipation. We already hit up the bouncy house, carousel, and pony rides.

Lizzie wasn’t quite ready to ride this year, but she did pet one of the ponies and fed her an apple. Her sweet giggles made everyone smile as the horse's soft muzzle rubbed her palm. We sat and watched other kids take rides for a full hour. Maybe after the fair, I’ll see if Lizzie and I can visit the farm to try and get her used to them without the crowds and noise of the festival. I love horses and have been reading about how kids with autism benefit from equine therapy. The plan had been to spend today at the fair with Bree, but unfortunately, a migraine and horrible cramps took her out of commission right before dinner, so it’s just me and Lizzie tonight for the dance.

The sun is setting, and the twinkly lights that run along the main street just came on. It makes everything feel magical. As soon as the band starts to play, Lizzie grabs my hand, clutching me tightly with her little fingers. She leads me into the crowd and starts dancing. The way she lights up on any dance floor and the pure joy emanating from her in these moments is all I could ever need in my life.

We dance for four songs before I insist on a break and some water. Lizzie is just starting to tug at my hand again when my name is called out, “Harper!” Without looking, I know it’s Wren. I spin to greet her, and my heart leaps into my throat. She has Blake in hand and Jace is trailing a step behind with his hands stuffed into his pockets. He’s in jeans and a baseball tee, Vans, and has that same ball cap on, flipped backward. Lord, save me. My fantasy did not do him justice. Heat flares on my cheeks as I remember moaning his name as I orgasmed around my fingers last night.

“And hello to you, too, Ms. Lizzie.” Wren drops to her knees, not concerned with her flowy dress now in the dirt. I watch them for a second before looking at Jace. Our eyes meet, and everything around us falls away.

“Hey.” His smile makes my knees weak.

“Hey yourself.”

I’m lost in his stare until Lizzie launches herself onto my legs. I stumble and am caught by strong hands that grasp my arms. Electrical currents course through me feeling his skin on mine. I’m frozen, staring at Jace like an idiot.

“O.M.G, I love this song!” Wren cries, dragging Blake into the throngs of people. Blake shoves something at Jace that he barely catches, finally letting go of my arms, the sudden loss of contact jarring.

Squatting down, he reaches out his other hand to Lizzie. “Hi, I’m Jace, and who are you?”

Lizzie starts hopping on the balls of her feet and flapping her hands. I stare at Jace, gauging at how he’s reacting to Lizzie. My chest feels tight, and my throat constricts. My mind has gone blank. I know I need to do or say something, but I’m flustered. Lizzie suddenly leans forward and takes a huge bite out of the cotton candy in Jace’s other hand. A horrified laugh escapes my lips.

“Lizzie Quinn!” I scoop her into my arms. “You can’t just eat someone else’s food.” She squeals and laughs like it’s a game.

“Jace, I’m sorry. I’ll get you a new one,” I say, my head whipping side to side as I try to find the cotton candy cart.

“Harper. Harper,” his words are gentle but firm as he stops my movements, “it’s fine.” Then he grins. “In fact, it’s more than fine. This is Blake’s cotton candy that he foisted on me to dance with Wren, so from where I’m standing, it was fair game.”

A new song starts and Lizzie grasps my face, pulling it so we are eye to eye. “Da, Da.” Then wiggles out of my arms and grasps my finger, pulling me toward the dance floor while pointing.

“Sounds like you’re being summoned to the dance floor.” Jace smiles, watching Lizzie like he’s piecing together a puzzle.

“It’s her favorite song. Uh, it was nice seeing you again, Jace.” I head out onto the dance floor. Lizzie and I dance and twirl to the song. When I glance back, Jace is still standing there watching us, and I have to remind myself that he’s not for me.

The next few songs are all upbeat and have Lizzie written all over them. As the night wears on, the band starts playing some slow songs. When a new song starts, Wren pops up behind me, reaching for Lizzie. “Princess Lizzie the First, may I have this dance?” she says in a British accent.

I can’t help but laugh at Wren's antics as she starts, honest to God, waltzing through the crowd, swinging a giggling Lizzie around the area.

“Looks like you’re free for a song, may I?” Jace asks with his hand outstretched. Leaning into the moment and the magic of the fair, I take his hand. He spins me before pulling me in close, his hands holding my lower back. I link my hands around his neck. Indulging in my fantasy, I let my fingers play with the ends of his hair, surprised at how soft it is. We dance, not even talking, just watching each other. I can see all the questions he’s trying not to ask in his eyes.

I see the shift in his look and know it’s coming, so I brace myself for the inevitable, “What’s wrong with her?” question that chips away at my heart every time it’s uttered. “Soooo, you’re a mom?”

I’m taken aback because I’d been guarding my heart for something harsh, not the simple question asked.

“Yeah, I am. Lizzie is four and she’s my everything.” My words are quiet. I don’t even know why, but my throat feels clogged with emotions.

“Why didn’t you mention it yesterday?” He seems so genuinely curious. We had chatted about work, and Juniper Falls, but hadn’t gotten really personal. I consider deflecting, saying it didn’t come up, but something inside compels me to tell him the truth.

“I love my daughter more than life itself, she’s the light of my world, and at times, she was the only light I had. But for the last four years, I’ve been Harper, the single mom, or Harper, the special needs mom. For one day, I guess I just wanted to be Harper with no attachments and free to take a chance with a cute boy she met at the festival.” He swallows, and I track the movement, not ready to look him in the eye again. We sway to the music, still pressed impossibly close together. His hand flexes on my back, before he rests his chin on my head. I drop it to his chest and just soak up the comfort he’s silently offering at my confession.

“Can I take you on a date, please?” His voice is hoarse and tugs at me in a primal way. Everything in me is screaming to say yes. But rational Harper knows it would only end badly. I lean back, and he reluctantly loosens his hold so we can look at each other. I stop dancing.