Love's Awakening by Kelly Stuart Read Free Book Online Page A

you right after Dad told me.”
    “Gee, thanks.”
    “I wrote you a letter. Want to read it now?”
    Celia should have pumped milk about five minutes ago, in the bathroom. She’d thought she could wait. But no. She’d been relatively lucky so far. Hadn’t experienced severe engorgement. Elephant, weighty breasts, sore nipples, yeah, but not the swollen, rock-hard breasts many women experienced.
    Oh, God. The pain caused her to bend over for a couple of seconds. She felt like she might pass out. “I have to pump. My breasts are killing me.” Celia got to her feet and grabbed her baby bag. In the bathroom, she took her shirt off. Under it, she wore a low-cut top. She sat on the toilet, clamped her jaw shut and mashed her teeth together. Shit! The pain infiltrated every part of her.
    She pulled the left side of her shirt down. The cup of her bra was detachable, and she attached the pump. It was manual, and Celia squeezed. She would take maybe five minutes. Because she wanted to stop breastfeeding, she just needed to relieve the pressure. Draining her breasts dry would simply signal them to produce more milk.
    A tentative knock at the door. “You okay?”
    “Fine. Moo.”
    “Did you say ‘moo?’ “
    “Yes. Moo. Get it? I’m expressing milk.”
    “Anything I can do?”
    “I’m fine. I’m a cow, okay? But fine.”
    “You’re not fine.”
    “You think I’m slitting my wrists or something? That I keep a butcher knife in my baby bag? I’m a milk cow, not a meat cow. I’m fine, Oliver. This is normal.”
    “Cover yourself with a towel. I’m coming in.”
    “What? No, you’re not.”
    “Yeah,” Oliver declared. “I am. You have ten seconds.”
    Fine, fine. Celia switched breasts and draped her first shirt over her chest. “Come in if you must,” she called.
    Oliver edged in.
    “See,” Celia said. “Milk cow, not meat cow.”
    Oliver smiled. “Do, uh…” He watched the slowly rising level of milk in the collection bottle with a mixture of fascination and dismay. “Interesting contraption,” he said. Meaning a scary-as-shit contraption.
    “Like I said. Moo.”
    “Moo. Yeah.” Oliver perched on the edge of the tub and fixed intense eyes on Celia. “You shouldn’t be alone right now.”
    “Yes, well.”
    Oliver leaned in, and his knee brushed Celia’s. “But I guess you’re okay.”
    “Sure. Never been better.”
    “You’re funny, Mrs. Milk Cow.”
    Oliver’s grin was contagious, and Celia smiled. “Moo.”
    Oliver kept his knee, his touch, where it was, and Celia was glad for the contact. Glad for the distraction. She suddenly ached, not only her breasts, but all of her, for someone to curl up with in bed and laugh with and cuddle with. Kiss, too. Laugh and kiss. Not sex. She was nowhere near ready for sex, and Oliver probably liked his sex rough and—
    Whoa. There you go again. Shh.
    “What do milk cows do when they’re not milking?” Oliver asked.
    “Sometimes I imagine myself in a field, grazing the grass.”
    A smile from Oliver. Slight. “For what it’s worth, cows are cute.”
    “Are they?”
    “Sure. They have their own charm.”
    “And what’s that?”
    “Promise not to laugh.”
    This is intriguing. “Promise.”
    “When I was in middle school, my class took a trip to a farm. The cows there were for making cheese, and they...I don’t know. They made me calm. Peaceful. Their eyes were soothing, like they were saying everything would be all right.”
    Celia’s heart warmed. Aw. He’s sweet.
    Oliver wiped his palms on his jeans. “Have you ever looked into a cow’s eyes? ‘Cause you should.”
    “I will.”
    “Good. Good.”
    “I went to a shrink yesterday,” Celia offered. “Dr. Frowny Face. He has a pole up his ass.”
    Oliver laughed. “Nice.”
    “Your dad worried about you.”
    Oliver’s expression darkened.
    “He loved you. He really did, but he had a hard time showing it. He wanted you to settle down, be happy and—”
    “Did he tell you