by Lacey Black
He nods once and holds my gaze. After a few long seconds, he finally asks, “Can I come in? And talk?”
I glance up the stairs. “Trace is getting ready to watch a movie, and—”
“Please, Leni,” he whispers, his eyes full of pain. “We can wait until he goes to bed, but I really think we need to talk. There’s some things I need to explain, and then if you want me to leave, I will.”
A huge part of me wants to shut the door, to push him away so this horrible hurt in my chest will dissipate, but I know he’s right. That’s why I take a step back and hold the door open for him to enter.
“Thank you,” he says, brushing past me as he steps inside the small space. My body instantly responds to his nearness, his touch, his scent. It’s like it doesn’t care he betrayed me. One graze of his skin against mine sets me on fire with desire, despite the overwhelming disappointment and anger I feel.
Go figure.
I lock the door and head up the stairs when he doesn’t move, waiting on me to ascend first. Just as we step inside the kitchen, Trace bursts from his bedroom. “I’m ready to watch…Malcolm!” he exclaims, changing the course of his statement and the direction he’s running. My son runs straight to Malcolm and throws himself in his arms.
“Hey, Champ,” Malcolm replies, catching him easily in his arms and returning the hug my little boy gives him.
“Did you come to watch The Sandlot with me?” Trace asks, eyes wide with anticipation.
Malcolm looks at me for direction. I don’t want to talk with little ears within earshot, so I nod. “Sure, I can watch a little bit of it with you,” Malcolm responds, setting Trace down on the worn linoleum.
Trace takes his hand and drags him into the living room. They sit together on the couch, my son tucked comfortably into Malcolm’s side, as I press the play button on the remote. The entire time, I try not to look over at the picture-perfect image they create.
The movie starts, and I take the opportunity to wash a few dishes in the sink, making sure to keep my eye on the clock, since it’s already approaching bedtime. Every time Trace says something to Malcolm or gets excited at one of his many favorite parts of the movie, I can’t help but feel a tinge of sadness. What if this is the end? Trace will be losing someone he has quickly become accustomed to having in his life. A friend. Someone who takes him fishing, includes him in our date nights, and is currently making promises to play catch with him very soon.
It hurts too much to think about having to explain to Trace why Malcolm isn’t coming around anymore.
I close my eyes and hang my head, trying not to think about the hurt my son will feel. It’s the same hurt I saw in his eyes every time he asked about his dad and I had to tell him he was away working. Greg better not flake out on him again. If he loses Malcolm, and then Greg too, I’m not sure Trace’s little heart can stand it.
Warm hands are hesitantly placed on my shoulders before gently squeezing in support. “It’s going to be okay, Leni. I promise,” Malcolm whispers, kissing the back of my head and holding me close.
He leaves me torn between wanting him to throw his arms around me and hug me tight or to not touch me because it hurts my heart too much. The former is currently outweighing the latter at this moment.
When the clock finally hits thirty minutes, I turn off the DVD and remind Trace of his bedtime. Instead of grumbling and begging for more time, he turns to Malcolm and says, “Can you come over tomorrow and watchded the rest of the movie with me?”
Malcolm grins. “We’ll see, Champ,” he says, giving my son a warm, positive smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.
“Okay,” Trace says, throwing his arms around Malcolm’s neck. “I love you.”
Tears burn my eyes as I watch the display. Malcolm closes his eyes and smiles. “I love you too, Champ.” It literally feels like my heart is going to burst from my chest.
Trace jumps down and heads to his bedroom, most likely to pick out the book I’m reading tonight. “I’ll be back,” I whisper, my voice hoarse. I don’t wait for Malcolm to reply. I can’t. I hightail it from the room, finally able to take a deep breath when I crawl onto Trace’s bed.
“This one,” he says, handing over the fishing book he picked out from my sister’s store.
I open the book and start to read, knowing this book will always remind me of the man in my living room. The one who stole my heart and may be about to give it back in pieces.
Chapter 25
Malcolm
Curiosity gets the better of me. I slowly walk down the hallway, entranced by the sound of her voice as she reads. I lean against the wall and close my eyes, letting the sweetness of her words wash over me. When she gets to the end, she tells him how much she loves him and wishes him goodnight. His tired little voice says the same, and I can picture her tucking his Spider-Man blanket under his sides like she did the last time I was here.
Instead of retreating to the living room, I stay there and watch as she exits her son’s room. Our eyes meet, but instead of the brightness, the happiness I’m accustomed to, they’re filled with a sorrow that feels like an arrow straight to my chest.
Silently, we walk to the kitchen. I take a seat at the table, even though I’d prefer the comfort of the couch. Something tells me she’d feel more comfortable with the round hard surface between us.
For now.
“Would you like something to drink?” she asks, possibly trying to distract herself for a few more minutes.
“No thank you.”
Leni grabs a bottle of water and finally joins me at the table with a sigh. I wait until she finishes fidgeting and takes a drink of her water before I begin.
“I owe you an explanation and an apology, but not for the reason you think.”
“Why do I think you’re apologizing?” she asks, her voice laced with challenge.
“Because you read the blog gossip and think I did something with Jessa.” When she doesn’t reply, I go on. “Not that I’d blame you,” I quickly add, “But that’s not what happened.”
“What did happen?”
I sigh. “I went to Pony Up after I left City Hall. I wasn’t even halfway through my first drink when she walked in. There weren’t many people there, a handful of regulars, so she came and sat next to me and asked if I was buying her a drink. I did, being polite, and we chatted for a bit.
“When she had her second drink, I wasn’t the one to buy it. One of the guys at the end of the bar did, and she thanked him by ordering a round of shots. I had just finished nursing my first and only drink, so even with the shot of whiskey, I wasn’t anywhere near drunk. In fact, I felt completely fine.
“When I was ready to leave, she appeared pretty tipsy, stumbling around a bit on her heels. I didn’t feel comfortable letting her drive home like that, so I offered to take her. We walked out of that bar together, but it wasn’t because I was going to sleep with her. I swear.”
Leni nods and looks down at her bottle of water.
“When I took her home, she tried to kiss me.” Now her eyes are back on mine. “I pulled away quickly and told her I wasn’t interested. She tried to get me to come inside, but that wasn’t happening. There was no way I was going to jeopardize what I have with you, not when I finally found something worth hanging on to.”
She swallows hard, her eyes filling with tears. It has me moving, switching to the chair closest to where she sits and taking her hand in mine.
“I shouldn’t even have been in there. I should have come straight here when I had questions about what I saw here yesterday morning, instead of arguing with myself and making assumptions.”
Leni sits up straight. “What you saw?”
Now it’s my turn to avert my gaze and exhale loudly. “Yeah. I went for a run yesterday morning and was going to stop by and steal a kiss. When I was walking toward your door, a man was just leaving. He had a bag with him, and my mind went to the worst place possible. I should have called and talked to you, but I didn’t. I a
ssumed the worst, just like I’m sure you did when you saw that post.”
A single tear falls down her cheek, simultaneously ripping my guts out of my body. I hate seeing her cry, especially when I’m the cause. “That was Greg,” she whispers, sniffling and wiping her nose with a napkin. “He stopped by unannounced Monday night. I was already having a terrible day, and then I opened the door and found him standing there.”
My heart kicks up a few extra beats on hearing the name of the man I saw. I’m not sure if I should be happy or upset by that news. I adjust my position on the chair so her legs are between mine and hold her hand on my knee. “We’re going to get into why you were having a bad day, but first, what did he want?”
“So much,” she says, and then tells me all about him realizing he was being a shitty father and how he saw the light when he met his current girlfriend. I listen as she explained why he was still there in the morning, understanding her side of the situation and why she allowed him to stay.
“He’s coming here this weekend then?” I ask, brushing my thumb over the top of her knuckles and watching as a shiver sweeps through her body.
“He is. He should get here around six on Friday. He already has a hotel room, but Trace is adamant he’s not staying with him there. He very well may change his mind by the time Greg is here, and that’s okay. Either way, I just want him to get to know his son and be a part of his life, but only if that’s what Trace wants. I won’t let him come in and out whenever the mood strikes him.”
I bring her hand to my lips and place a kiss on the very knuckles I was rubbing. “You’re an amazing mother, Lenora Abbott.”
“I try, but some days are harder than others.”
Meeting her gaze, I say, “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have made assumptions and should have talked to you immediately, and I definitely shouldn’t have gone to the bar when I was upset. This whole thing could have been avoided if I had just called you.”
“I’m sorry I believed the chatter in the blog instead of talking to you too. I think we both messed up,” she says, leaning into my arms as I pull her close.
My body starts to calm for the first time since yesterday morning when I wrap my arms around her shoulders and breathe in her familiar scent. I’m at peace, her head resting against my chest and her arms around my waist. Even though we’re both still sitting, it feels so natural and right.
“I wish I knew how the MC Scoop caught wind of me and Jessa leaving the bar together,” I say, almost absently. It’s something that’s still bothering me since I read the post. “There was no one around.”
Leni pulls back and gazes up. “Tate has a way of hearing and seeing everything.”
“True,” I concede, yet something doesn’t add up. “I just don’t see the old guys in there running and telling her about it, ya know?”
“Who knows. You are a pretty hot commodity around here,” she teases, giving me a coy grin.
“This is true, but still. Just funny the only people around were us and two old guys watching the Marlins game.”
“Maybe Jessa ratted herself out,” she replies with a snicker, but it’s like the final piece of the puzzle falling into place.
That’s it.
Holy shit.
“Fuck,” I mutter, the pieces starting to fall into place. “Jessa messaged Tate.”
Leni pauses and pulls back, meeting my intense expression. “Why would she do that?”
Why wouldn’t she? She was going on and on during the ride to her place about how great we are together, even after I told her I wasn’t interested. She was doing everything she could to keep me there, including grabbing my junk, a tactic that would have probably worked wonders at one time.
Before Leni.
“I had my phone when I was dropping her off. I remember because it was the first time I saw your text message,” I recall, my mind spinning.
“Your phone?”
“Yeah, I lost it at some point. I think that was when I had it last. This morning, I couldn’t find it,” I state, telling her about running myself into exhaustion—twice—and my mom’s visit at eight. “Son of a bitch. Jessa has my phone. She has to. That was when she had her hands all over me.”
Leni’s eyes narrow in annoyance. “I don’t like her.”
A bubble of laughter spills from my mouth. “Well, I do believe the feeling is probably mutual. Every time I mentioned you, she got that much more pissed off.”
Leni cross her arms over her chest. “You know she fired me, right?”
I sit up straight. “What? When?”
“Monday morning. I barely made it out of my car when I got to her house. She met me in the driveway and told me she feared it would be too awkward when you dumped me and went back to her.”
I lean forward once more and take her in my arms, pulling her onto my lap. “Not happening,” I insist, resting my chin on her shoulder. “I didn’t know she fired you.”
She shrugs. “I didn’t advertise it, partly because it does happen in my line of work, but also because I was trying to prove her words didn’t affect me.”
“But they did,” I deduce, kissing the bare skin at the side of her neck.
“Yeah, a little.”
I turn her to face me and almost groan when she leans back and swings her leg up and over my head so she’s straddling me. Leni wraps her arms around my neck, pressing her chest into mine. “It’s you and me against the world, okay? Nothing comes between us if we don’t want it to.”
She rocks forward, rubbing against my rapidly growing cock, the faintest grin playing at the corners of her mouth. “Deal.”
“I’m serious, Leni. I’m not letting you go. How can I when I feel this way about you?”
“How do you feel?” she whispers, her breath fanning against my lips.
“I’m in love with you,” I answer, watching as my words register on her gorgeous face. “I knew you were going to change my life the moment I stepped out of the shower and found you gawking at the goods.”
Her eyes widen as she giggles and shakes her head. “You just had to go and ruin the moment.”
“Oh, no. I saw it in your eyes. You don’t have to lie to me. I know you appreciate my assets,” I tease, flexing my hips upward into the apex of her legs.
Leni sighs and rests her cheek against me once more. “Malcolm?”
“Hmm?”
“Will you kiss me now?”
“It would be my absolute pleasure.”
She meets me halfway, our lips finally touching after what feels like forever, when in reality it’s been days. Leni opens her mouth, allowing my tongue to delve inside, savoring the feel of her against my lips and the taste of her on my tongue.
“Malcolm,” she whispers, as I slide my lips across her cheek.
“Yes?”
“I love you too.”
Something heady washes over me, bathing me in the most glorious feeling in the world. Happiness. Pure bliss. “Say it again.”
“So bossy,” she mumbles turning her head so I have better access to her neck.
“You like it when I’m bossy,” I state, lazily dragging my tongue down the long column.
She sighs and rests her head on my shoulder. “I do.”
“Come with me, Lenora. I want to sit and hold you on the couch for a bit.”
She snorts. “Is that what the kids are calling it these days?”
A huge smile spreads across my face. “Why, Miss Abbott, I do believe your mind is in the gutter,” I tease, standing up, her legs wrapping around my waist.
“Has been ever since I was cleaning City Hall and found the mayor standing in the bathroom without any clothes on.”
I settle us down on the couch, her tucked comfortably and securely beneath me. “Best meet-cute ever.”
She gives me that smile, the one that steals my breath and renders me speechless at the exact same time. “You know it.”
Epilogue
Leni
Next Summer.
“Are you ready?” I ask Trace, who’s chomping at the bit to get outside and help Malcolm. He’s been in the backyard for the last thirty minutes, preparing for their father/son camping and fishing adventure.
It’s the first annual event, sponsored by the Chamber of Commerce and Everything But Beer, where teams of fathers and sons get to camp and fish along the lake. There are prizes set in several different categories and is taking place over Father’s Day weekend. Ever since Trace heard about it, he’s been talking about this weekend.
Of course, now he has a little more flexibility to do the things he loves, since the water runs through our backyard. Trace and I moved in with Malcolm at the beginning of the year. It was the easiest adjustment, considering Trace and Malcolm were together almost every waking moment prior to him officially giving my son a bedroom in his home. And to be honest, it worked out great. We made a few scheduling adjustments to my work and the evenings I clean, Malcolm is home with Trace.
The only night we weren’t able to adjust is Mondays, but that’s okay. My mom and Alexandra, Malcolm’s mom, take turns coming to the house to hang with Trace while I clean City Hall and Malcolm has his meetings. He hangs around until I’m finished, and then we go home together.
We’ve been very fortunate not to have to deal with Jessa much. Once Malcolm went to her house to retrieve his phone, he found all sorts of information on it. She used it to email Tate with the MC Scoop. She also had drafted a break-up text message to me but hadn’t sent it yet. Why she didn’t cover her tracks better is beyond me, but whatever. Malcolm used his position as a lawyer to politely convince her to get a retraction printed to try to repair the damage. Since, she’s been hanging out in a neighboring town, rumored to be dating a man preparing to run for Congress.
Greg is still very much involved in his son’s life too. He was actually here last weekend, along with his fiancée, Angelica, and her daughter, Molly. They come every month and stay at the apartment above the laundromat. We’ve gotten to know them over the course of the last year, having dinner together occasionally at the local restaurants, and inviting them to our home to celebrate major events like birthdays.
