Chapter 42 - A Father’s Song [https://cdn.midjourney.com/0035cbf3-4aab-43e1-a46a-0309c43b0dc8/0_3.png]

Terry’s office was in the only strip mall in town, situated between an ice cream shop and a used bookstore. In the back, behind the treatment rooms and the kennels, he had an efficiency apartment. His fridge was half size and the big man looked like a lumberjack playing in his niece’s playhouse when he foraged through its contents.

Seated in the one and only chair, Kennedy bent forward to untie her tennis shoes. Nana had wanted her to stay with them at the cabin until Kennedy had reminded her of the whole - I might turn into a bear - thing. With her family snug and safe in the cabin, out of trouble’s way, she hoped she might get some sleep tonight. Terry gave her the choice of coming here with him or staying in a locked root cellar the size of an outhouse at the cabin. The mother’s room in the barn hadn’t been cleaned out in decades, so that wasn’t an option yet. Kennedy didn’t know what kind of horse tranquilizers he had given her mom, but she had been snoring when they left. Mr. Pibble had strolled out to visit with everyone as they were getting ready to leave. Nan had slipped him a scrap of ham. Always Kennedy’s favorite, she trusted him to watch over them.

Terry poured her a glass of juice.

“I’d rather have a beer,” she said.

Leaning back, he pooched his stomach out, pantomiming being pregnant.

Grumbling, she reached for the juice as he sat himself down on the edge of the bed. Their knees brushed. “Do you really live here?”

He nodded.

“What do they pay you in, hay?”

Teasing, he imitated a chicken.

Flashing him a grin, she nodded. “I figured.”

Terry placed his beer on the floor and reached out to claim one of her feet. He slipped her sock off, placed her heel on his thigh, and started to massage her foot. The strength in his hands worked like magic, and she groaned with pleasure. She hadn’t been sleeping well. Sinking deeper into the chair, she sighed. “That feels so good.”

Chuckling, he rocked her foot between his hands and squeezed her heal. If he kept touching her like that, she was going to propose. “This is bliss.” She sipped her juice and felt a gentle tingle along her tattoos. She looked up at Terry, surprised, and saw that he felt the tingle too.

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His eyes grew big. Leaning forward to tap her belly, he said, “Strong.”

“I guess so. Is he trying to change?”

Terry nodded as he reached for her other foot.

She rested her head back as he massaged the tension away. For the first time since she had destroyed Sandy’s kitchen, she allowed herself to relax as he eased his hands higher up her calf. At least with Terry here, she didn’t have to worry about hurting anyone. Softly, he sang in the gravely language. Deep and resonant, the tones soothed her. There was something familiar and comforting about the song. The faint sparkling sensation along her ankles quieted.

Eyes half closed, she watched him slide from the bed to the floor. Relaxed and boneless, she didn’t resist as he draped one thigh over his shoulder and then the other, causing her skirt to slide higher. His beard tickled along the tender inside of her thighs as he kissed and licked a hot line down to her sex. Trusting him, she let her legs relax open, supported by his broad shoulders. When his mouth came against her, she gasped with pleasure and pressed her hips toward him, causing herself to slide more deeply into the chair.

Tangling her fingers in his dark hair, she rocked against his mouth as he tasted her clit like it was a succulent fruit. A world of lovely sensations made her head cloud, and she released her fear and worry as the pleasure became all that there was in her world. His hot mouth was her only focus. Terry’s big body protected and shielded her from the world. In the shelter of him, she felt safe. How long had it been since she felt that way? Her orgasm came in slowly and lasted a long time, wave after wave lifting her. She hadn’t slept hardly at all since Sandy’s house. As she floated toward a second peek, she found sleep first.

*

Kennedy woke up alone in his bed. The smell of bacon was better than an alarm clock. For a moment, she was disoriented. Why was she in a tiny apartment? Then she saw him, naked in an apron. He turned toward her with a quirky grin on his lips, and reprimanded her with his spatula.

“I fell asleep.” When she tried to sit up, she realized her arms were tethered to the bed. She looked at one arm and then the other and laughed. “Is this my punishment for not seeing to your needs as well as you tended to mine?”

He grinned and nodded. She turned her face into her arm and giggled. “I can’t pretend I feel bad about it. Do you know how long it has been since I slept well?”

Nodding again, he came over and unfastened her restraints so he could draw her into a warm, sweet hug.

Pressing a kiss to his shoulder, she said, “Thank you.” Because her bladder had its own ideas about what she should be doing, she got up, dragging the blanket with her. When she returned, she crept up behind him and peeked around to see what breakfast was going to be. Fluffy eggs rested in one pan, bacon in another. Blanket wrapped around herself, she shuffled behind him and rested her face on his back, leaning into him. “I’m sorry I didn’t answer your texts.” Brushing her face back and forth, she breathed in his scent. “I was still hoping it wasn’t real.”

He looked over his shoulder at her.

“Not you. Not this.” She slid her arms around him. “The bear thing. I kinda figured I’d one day get my shit together and go back to college.” She sighed. “Not eat my friend’s couch, get fired, and learn how to raise a sky bear.”

He put down the spatula and turned to face her, a distinct tent in the front of his apron. She grinned as he slid his arms around her and held her close. Carefully making the shapes of his words, he said, “Eggs are better than couches.”

“I will be the judge of that. I’m starving.”