by Stacey Lewis
“I’ll take care of these for you.”
Dang. He must be anxious for us to leave his counter. The thought kills any mirth remaining in my body so I can only feel the mortification at being chastised like a child by this guy who isn’t even as tall as I am.
As soon as I’m ready, Mitchell leads me out of the building and when we’re both in the car he turns to look at me out of the corner of his eye. “You’re trouble, you know that?”
I gasp. “I’m trouble? How do you figure that?”
“You’re the one who kissed me,” he says with a shrug. “What was I supposed to do?”
His head fully turns to face me and he winks, making my giggles start up again. “I can’t believe we essentially got kicked out of there for kissing. That guy acted like we were about to start sexing it up in the middle of the lane or something.”
“Well,” Mitchell muses, rubbing his chin with one hand like he’s contemplating what I said. “I wouldn’t have turned that down. Was that one of the options?”
Smacking his arm, I snicker harder. “No way. That kinda stuff is only done behind closed doors.” Wait… he’s not into public sex, is he? That is so not my thing.
“Don’t worry, that won’t ever happen. I’m not the type of guy who shares, not even to have someone watch us.”
With that, he reaches over and takes my hand in his, the discussion over. His hand holding mine is so nice. I can feel the callouses on his fingers from all the manual labor he does, and it only makes him sexier to me. Seth’s hands never felt that way. His were always soft, maybe even softer than mine, and I wouldn’t put it past him to get manicures every week or two either.
It's later than I thought when we pull into the apartment parking lot and I’m right back in panic mode. Do I invite him in? Does he even want to come in? Is he expecting to come in? So. Many. Questions.
I’m not sure if I’m doing a good job hiding my anxiousness or if he just doesn’t notice, but Mitchell doesn’t make any comments when he helps me out of his truck by holding my trembling hand. Even our walk up to my door is silent. It makes me freak out more because I don’t know what’s going through his head or how to tell him what’s going through mine.
Mitchell leans against my doorjamb while I search through my bag for my keys and I take longer than I need to because I’m waiting for him to make a move one way or the other. I don’t want to make a move, especially if it’s the wrong one, and I’m just not confident enough to put myself out there by inviting him in or by telling him I’m not ready for that.
The decision is taken out of my hands once I pull out my keys and unlock my door. Mitchell opens it for me, then grabs my hand to pull me around to face him. He takes my face in his hands and leans down to press a soft, sweet kiss to my lips. It’s so different from the others we’ve had tonight and if anything, it makes me want to sink further into his embrace.
He's the one who pulls back first and stares down at me, his eyes searching mine. I’m not sure what he sees, but he smiles gently before giving me one final kiss. “I really enjoyed tonight, Hailey.”
“Me too, Mitchell.”
After tucking a piece of hair behind my ear, he steps back. “As much as I want to come in with you, I also want to do this right so I’m going to say good night.”
“You are?” My voice is breathy, and I hate that it sounds that way, but I’m too relieved to dwell on it. “I want to do this right too.”
He’s still smiling at me when he says, “Sweet dreams, Hails. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
“Sweet dreams, Mitchell.”
He waits for me to go inside and shut the door behind me, and once I flip the locks, I watch him leave out the peephole before turning so my back is against the wood. I’m grinning like a loon, but I can’t bring myself to care.
Chapter 19
Mitchell
I want nothing more than to go knock on her door this morning, but I know I need to give her a little space. By the time we got back here last night she was starting to freak out and I hate that she felt that way. I didn’t know what to do to make it better, so I didn’t say anything at all until we were at her apartment. I would’ve loved to end my night with her in bed beside me, but I don’t want to push her too far too fast. I’m not completely convinced she’s forgiven me for last year, and until I know for sure she has I’m not going to take that step with her.
Since I can’t see who I really want, I head over to my parents. I haven’t seen them in a few weeks and mom’s been leaving messages on my voicemail asking me when I’m going to stop by every day for the last week and a half. She probably has something she wants me to help dad do, which is a good thing this morning. Physical labor will keep my mind off Hailey.
Dad’s out in the front yard when I get there and waves when he sees me. He’s standing in front of one of the trees, his hand rubbing his beard at his chin over and over as he thinks. It’s something he’s done for as long as I can remember and the sight is a little bit comforting. It’s nice to know some things never change.
“What are you doing?”
He shrugs. “Nothing, just looking.”
“At?”
His eyes cut to me and I have to laugh at how peeved he looks. “At whatever keeps me out of the house and from doing all the shit on your mother’s never-ending to-do list.” Shaking his head, he mutters, “Why did I ever retire?”
It’s so hard to keep from laughing. Mom’s the one who wanted him to retire, and he finally completely retired six months ago so she’d stop complaining about how he’d rather be at the shop than with her. Dad’s always been the type to stay busy, but I’m sure her list is full of busy work and he’s not going to be interested in doing any of that.
"You retired because you wanted to spend more time with mom."
Dad snorts. "No, I retired because she wouldn't stop nagging me to spend time with her. There's a difference."
"Well, either way, you're home now. And, I'm sure whatever it is she wants you to do is stuff that does need to be done, so isn't it better to just get it over with?"
Narrowing his eyes, he glares at me. "Whose side are you on here?"
"Mom's, obviously. She's the one who sends me home with cookies and food so I don't have to make dinner."
He "hmphs" at me, but he knows it's true. That's the reason he's here too. Mom is a damn good cook and if he doesn't do what she wants, she's not going to let him have any of the goodies I'm sure she's in the house making.
Before he can say anything else, Mom comes to the door and looks out at both of us. "What are you guys doing out here? I have lunch ready, Mitch, if you're hungry."
"Of course, I'm hungry," I tell her as I'm walking up the front walk. "When am I not?"
She laughs, and when I reach the door, I wrap my arms around her and hug her. Mom hugs me back just as tightly, then moves so I can walk inside.
"What brings you over today?" She's looking up at me like she already knows why I'm here, but I don't know why she would.
I keep walking through the house because the smell of the food she made is making my stomach growl, but toss back over my shoulder, “Food. I’m here for the food.”
Entering the kitchen, I can see she’s been cooking like she’s expecting an army, something that tells me for sure she knew I was going to come over today. It’s not just sandwiches or something either. Nope, she made country fried steak, mashed potatoes, peas, and biscuits.
My mouth starts to water when I see all the food and I almost drop to my knees and thank God for moms who love to cook and do it every damn day.
She waits until I’ve filled a plate and taken my seat at the table before she sits down across from me and stares. Damn it. The look she’s giving me is the same one she gave when I was seven and broke one of the lamps in the living room. She knew it was me the whole time, no matter how much I swore it wasn’t. It’s the same look she gives me when she knows she can break me easily because it’s the stern type of loo
k all mothers seem to know exactly when to use.
“What?” It comes out defensive and short and I regret it immediately when her look turns into a glare. My mom is the best at making a thirty-eight-year-old man feel like he’s ten again.
My shoulders roll forward, so I’m hunched over my plate and looking anywhere but her when she speaks. “I hear you had a date last night.”
“How did you hear that?” I ask, then grimace. That makes it sound like I was trying to keep it a secret, which isn’t the case. She’s been trying to get me to date people since pretty much the second Tabitha and I split up. I didn’t want to tell her about Hailey because finding out I talked to someone before the split with her happened will only disappoint her.
The look she gives me, her chin dipping down as she looks at me from under her lashes, tells me she thinks I’m an idiot, which is confirmed when she says, “Becky Ellis called me last night and said you were out with her daughter. Imagine my surprise because you haven’t said a word to anyone. Having someone else tell me what my son is up to was so embarrassing, Mitchell James.”
I cringe at her saying both my first and middle names. At least she didn’t throw out all three names though. I’m not in too much trouble. How do I explain this to her without telling her everything? “I’m sorry, Mom. Maybe I should’ve told you, but it was just a first date.” Inspiration comes and I tell her, “I didn’t want to get your hopes up until I knew whether or not it was going to go further than one dinner.”
“You better have done more than take her to dinner.” She smacks my hand since it’s the only part of my body she can reach. “Although,” she muses, “I guess it’s better than doing just a movie. At least you can talk during dinner.” Looking off to some unknown point, she continues. “I’m trying to think, have I ever met Hailey? Since she grew up I mean. She was such a pretty little girl, and a pretty teenager too.”
The woman is baiting me, and I know it, but I go along with it anyway. “She’s still beautiful. I don’t remember her from when I was younger, but she’s definitely the prettiest woman I’ve ever seen.”
The smile Mom gives me is wide, and so bright it could power the sun. “Good! So, tell me all about her.” She’s settling in for the long haul, but I’m hungry, my food is getting cold, and I don’t want to dissect my date with my mother.
“Mom,” I groan. “How bout this? If it goes further than just last night, I’ll bring her over and you can see for yourself how great she is. Okay?”
She looks scandalized. “If? What do you mean if? You didn’t ask her out again last night when you dropped her off? Did you at least talk to her this morning?”
Before I can answer, my dad’s voice comes from the kitchen and sounds like he has a mouth full of food. “Woman, leave the boy alone. He was married for Christ’s sake. I think he knows how to woo a female without your assistance.”
I try, I really do, but I can’t keep from laughing at the scowl and glare she gives the empty doorway. When he doesn’t come into the dining room, she gets up and goes to him and I listen to them bicker back and forth while I finish my lunch. Hearing them argue good-naturedly brings back so many memories of my childhood, and that’s exactly what I need today.
Chapter 20
Hailey
It’s been a week since the best date I’ve ever had, but aside from some very hot looks he’s given me during pick up this week and a couple of texts exchanged, I haven’t spent any time with him. I shouldn’t feel like I’m going through withdrawals, but I do. The whole thing is so crazy.
His wife “had” to bring the kids back on Sunday though instead of keeping them until their scheduled switch date, so that has a lot to do with it too. He can’t just leave his son at home babysitting every night so he can come to my apartment after Connor goes to bed. Not that I’d want him to anyway. Ben should be able to just be a kid, not the son who watches his sister while his dad has a hookup. That’s not right, or okay, and if he was doing that, I wouldn’t be as attracted to him as I am.
Thank goodness today I have plans and can’t think too much about him and what’s going on with him. Riley invited me to a girl’s brunch she has once a month with a group of friends she’s known forever. She’s been my saving grace since I came back to Seattle and moved into this apartment. It doesn’t hurt that she’s Connor’s pediatrician either. Having his doctor live across the hall makes my mommy freak out moments a lot easier to calm.
I swear, without her, I wouldn’t go anywhere or make any new friends. All the friends I used to have stayed with Seth in Portland, and after being basically deserted by them all once I left him, I’m a little gun shy when it comes to making new ones. I haven’t even tried to make friends with any of the other teachers at work for this reason.
A couple have made overtures, but I’ve rebuffed them, and I probably should change that. I need to make a concerted effort to move past the hurt I felt when Lanie and Sabrina stopped coming around, of course, considering Sabrina is now dating my ex-husband, she’s no great loss. What kind of friend does that anyway? Not a very good one.
The knock on my door startles me out of my dark thoughts and I realize it’s time to go and that’s probably Riley at the door to tell me to get a move on since I’m riding over with her. Last night was the second Friday sleepover Connor had with my parents, and sleeping in felt way too good. I’ve been dragging since I finally got out of bed.
When the door swings open, it’s not Riley standing there. It’s Mitchell. His in-need-of-a-trim hair falls over his forehead when he grins down at me and I almost melt into a puddle at his feet just by seeing it.
“Hey, Hails.” His smile is contagious and I return it, unreasonably happy he’s calling me the silly nickname. Most people just call me Hailey and don’t bother to shorten it. Seth sure never did. Hails would probably make his lip curl in distaste, and that just makes me like it more.
I’ve never been more suddenly depressed about having to leave than I am right now, but I return his greeting shyly. “Hey.”
“Sorry I’ve been kinda MIA this week,” he starts, but he doesn’t need to explain.
Waving off his words, I reassure him. “I totally get it. Your kids need to come first. I’ve been busy with Connor too and figuring out lesson plans for next month, so I probably wouldn’t have had a lot of time anyway.”
“That may be true, but I’m still sorry. I feel like I’ve pretty much blown you off this week and that wasn’t my intention.”
I step closer to put a hand on his arm. My intention is just to squeeze it and let go, but when I touch him, I swear my head gets foggy. His cologne fills my nose and I’m transported back to our date and the way he kissed me. My body sways closer to his, unconsciously wanting to be as close to him as possible, but before his lips meet mine a voice interrupts us.
“Uh, no ma’am. It’s not make out with the guy time.” Riley’s trying to sound stern, but failing miserably because she’s giggling by the end of her sentence.
When I look over, she’s standing beside me, arms over her chest, with what I’m sure she thinks is a mean look on her face. My face bursts into flames and Mitchell chuckles. “I wasn’t making out with anyone.”
“You were about to though,” is her retort, and she raises one dark eyebrow, waiting for me to try to deny it again.
Mitchell’s chuckle turns into an outright laugh and both Riley and I turn our attention to him. He shrugs, turning that smirk on me and making me forget what I was even saying. “She’s not wrong. I was about to kiss you.”
“Well,” Riley informs him, “we don’t have time for that. We’re meeting friends for brunch, and no boys are allowed.” She looks his body up and down, then shakes her head. “No matter how damn hot you are.”
“Riley!” I scold her, but she’s completely unrepentant.
He looks a little disappointed, but doesn’t ask me not to go like Seth would have. Let’s be honest, Seth wouldn’t have asked. He would have just told me
I wasn’t going and that would’ve been that. “Call or text me when you get home?” is all Mitchell asks, and I nod. He leans down, dropping a soft kiss to my lips before saying, “Have fun, ladies.”
Riley and I both watch him leave. I think we both sigh at the sight of his ass in those jeans, something that’s proved correct by her next statement. “Damn, I’d like to sink my teeth into that.” The visual in my head is of my petite friend with her teeth in Mitchell’s backside like a Chihuahua, hanging on for dear life.
Once he’s gone, she turns to me and says, “You ready?” I tell her I am, then follow her out of the apartment and down to her car.
Everyone else is already at the restaurant when we arrive, and they’ve commandeered two tables to have enough room for everyone. When Riley said “a few friends” I wasn’t imagining this many people, and even though I see one person I’ve met, I sort of want to run away.
Riley doesn’t let me do that, holding my hand as she drags me behind her into the bright, open room. My senses are assaulted by the smells of breakfast and by the time we reach their table I’m almost drooling because it smells so damn good.
“Hey y’all,” Riley greets everyone, her slight southern accent charming us all.
A pretty brunette stands to hug her. “Hey, sweetie. Glad you could come.”
“Me too.” Turning to me, she introduces her friend. “Riley, this is Meg Montgomery. She’s a nurse I work with at the hospital sometimes.” Then, she turns to Meg and continues the intros. “Meg, this is Hailey Lucas—”
She’s cut off when Stacey interrupts to say, “Hailey is Sophie’s teacher this year.” She grins up at me and gives me a finger wave. “Hey, it’s good to see you.”
