“Can’t be worse than what I’ve gone through,” I said. “No matter what.”
“Be careful with that, Jordyn. You’re responding to something you haven’t heard yet.”
“I’m standing right here listening, Rams.”
“Yeah, you are. And I never want you to leave. I spent years in this house wondering what I should do. I almost feel like I’m stealing memories from another family by living here, you know? Someone else could be here. With their kid or kids. The family dog. A cat or two. And here I am, just taking up space.”
“You’re doing a lot more than taking up space, Rams.”
“I need to sell this place.”
“So, sell it. I know a couple of realtors.” I smirked.
“I had the plans out the night you called me when Sam needed to go to the hospital.”
“The plans?”
“For the work on the house. It was the first time in a while that I had taken them out. You have my mind a little more than twisted right now.”
I sucked in a slow breath and held it.
Was Ramsey trying to imply he wanted to fix this house up for Sam and I to live in with him?
“I said I would never fall in love again,” I said. “I said I would never put Sam in a position to get hurt by another guy. So much of what I said… you’ve ignored and ruined.”
“Told you I ruin things,” he said.
“Rams… that’s the kind of stuff that needs to get ruined.”
“I walked away and left a lot of people hurt,” he said. “It wasn’t just an engagement that-”
Ramsey’s eyes moved and there was a knock on the glass behind me.
I turned and saw Sam standing at the door, holding his stuffed bear.
Mom instinct took over and all my attention went to my son.
Not that I would expect Ramsey to take exception to that.
I slid the heavy door open and Sam started to rub his eyes. “I want to go to bed.”
“You can sleep on the couch, dude,” Ramsey said.
“I want my bed.”
“Ah, right,” Ramsey said.
I looked back at Ramsey. This was the perfect moment to let patience slip away.
Only Ramsey wouldn’t let that happen.
He bent his knees and crouched in front of Sam. “You ready to head home?”
“Yeah,” Sam said.
“Sam, I’m visiting with Ramsey,” I said.
“I’m tired,” he whined.
Ramsey looked up at me. “He’s tired. We’d better get him tucked into bed.”
I bit my bottom lip.
He was so good with Sam.
He was so good with me.
What was he worried about with us then?
Sam rested his head on Ramsey’s shoulder.
We stood at the bottom of the steps just inside my house.
“I’ll take him,” I whispered.
Ramsey nodded.
“Come here, Sammy,” I whispered. “I’ll take you up.”
“Can Ramsey?” Sam asked in a sleepy voice, his eyes half shut.
My eyes locked with Ramsey’s.
Well? my mind thought.
“Sure, dude,” Ramsey said. He put one of his large hands to Sam’s back. “Let’s go.”
I followed them upstairs, my heart racing and swelling. Something as small as this was so big to me. There was nothing harder as a single mother than coming from work after a bad day and still having to handle all the little things that mattered to Sam. Because it wasn’t his job to bear the burden of my bad day.
There wasn’t a single time since moving into this house that someone besides me had carried Sam up the stairs to put him to bed. I’d had help from Norah and Brenda plenty of times, but each time Sam would stay on the couch and wait for me to come home. And then I’d begin the trek of carrying him. Which wasn’t that big of a deal, only now, he was getting bigger. And I was getting more and more tired.
In Sam’s room, Ramsey placed him down on the bed. I caught myself making hand motions as though it were me placing Sam down. A quick breath away from giving Ramsey instructions, even though he wasn’t a fool.
That was just the Mom instinct kicking in again.
“Goodnight, dude,” Ramsey said. “Sleep tight.”
“Thanks, Ramsey,” Sam said.
Hearing my son say Ramsey’s name was a whole other set of emotions to my already delicate heart.
Ramsey turned away from the bed and as he passed me by, I grabbed his hand and squeezed it.
“Stay,” I whispered.
“I’ll be downstairs,” he whispered back. “Do your routine. Do not skip a second of it because of me.”
I squeezed his hand again and he squeezed mine back then let my hand go.
Ramsey exited the room and I sat on the edge of the bed with Sam. I wanted to be back at Ramsey’s house, on the back porch, standing in the cool air, talking to him. There was so much I wanted to know about him. So much he wanted to know about me. But Sam came first, and always would.
I ran my hand through his hair and smiled. “Close your eyes, Sammy. Get a good night of sleep.”
I leaned down to hug him and his tiny arms were wrapped around me tightly.
“Mom, are they family?” he asked.
“Who?” I asked, breaking the hug.
“Aunt Millie? Uncle Tom? Are they family to us?”
I swallowed hard. “Oh, Sammy, they’re not… you know, sometimes family…” I was short on words, which I didn’t like. I didn’t want to say the wrong thing and confuse him. “I think they’re family. Okay? Do you know what family is?”
“Not really,” Sam said.
“Family are people who care about you. Love you. Help you when you need help. People who make you laugh when you’re having a bad day. People who make you feel comfortable when you’re having a bad day. Like Aunt Norah. Aunt Brenda. Right?”
“Is Ramsey family?”
I should have seen the question coming, but I didn’t.
It was enough to steal my breath for a few seconds.
“What do you think?” I asked Sam.
“I think he’s family,” he said. “He’s tall. And he’s got too’s on his arms.”
I laughed.
Too’s were tattoos.
“Yes, that’s true, Sammy,” I said. “I think you’d better get some sleep now. Do you want me to read to you?”
“No,” he said. “Go hug Ramsey.”
“Hug Ramsey?” I asked.
“Yes. Isn’t that what you do when you love someone?”
Now my heart leapt into my throat. “Oh, Sammy, that’s such a sweet thing for you to say. And, yes, you hug someone when you love them.”
“You can read to me tomorrow.”
Sam turned and pulled the covers up to his chin.
Sometimes I wondered if he had somehow gone from five to fifteen without me remembering the years in between. Or maybe he just understood more than I gave him credit for. My desperate urge to protect his innocence.
I stole one last kiss and left the bedroom, slowly shutting the door.
I let out a deep breath and blinked fast.
So much was happening and changing at once.
I walked down the stairs and found Ramsey standing in the kitchen, nestled into the corner nook where he had pinned me that one time. Lifting me up and sitting me on the counter, having his way with my pleasure, leaving me just a little bit more addicted to him.
When he saw me, he grinned.
I saw small dimples hidden under the messy scruff on his face. The sleeves of his shirt always rolled up, showing off ink and muscle. The size of him screamed protection… and at the same time, it suggested danger. Yet I couldn’t get away. And I never wanted to get away. I wanted to be with him all the time.
“Crazy night, darling,” he said. “We didn’t get to finish our talk.”
I hurried toward him.
My hands grabbed his face and I moved to my
toes. “I don’t give a fuck about finishing our talk right now.”
24
A Squishy Catch
Ramsey
It was such a comfortable routine that I had to remind myself of why I was there and what it meant to me. Not that I needed to really try all that hard, because the sight of Jordyn was enough. Waking up in her bed on another morning, looking at her naked, smooth back; the way her shoulder blades pressed against her skin. Her hair moved to the left, exposing her neck, random strands of messy, bed hair, refusing to comply with the rest. Her slender shoulders giving way to her bare arms. The swell of her right breast pressed to the bed, almost making me jealous that the mattress was feeling what I wanted to feel.
I laughed in my head, realizing how crazy I was about this woman.
I had opened the floodgates to my past. With more to tell, sooner rather than later, I felt a small sting of guilt for not telling Jordyn everything just yet. Truthfully, this was the first time I’d fallen in love on my terms, my way, and believed in it. To me, everything that happened before the night I met Jordyn meant nothing.
I looked down at the tattooed initials of my brother on my side.
Sorry, little brother. For everything. You should have had a better life. You should have had a mother like Jordyn to love you. You should have had a father like our Uncle Tom to care for you. You should have had a better older brother…
The thoughts faded the moment I touched Jordyn’s back. My fingertips traced a gentle line up to her hair. I dug my fingers in a little hard, enough that she started to stir, groaning with enjoyment. I gritted my teeth and moved my fingers down, touching the soft skin of her back again, following her spine. Her back arched to my touch. My eyes studied her skin, counting a total of eleven freckles on her back, with plenty more to count. My attention shifted gears as my fingertips eased over the curve of her ass. Cutting down and between her legs, Jordyn groaned again, still not fully awakened and looking at me. My fingertips pressed against her warm bud, her legs shivering as they began to open.
She started to lift her head and I quickly made my move.
I pressed my lips against the back of her neck and started to kiss.
She groaned even louder. “Oh, Rams…”
“Morning, darling,” I whispered and kissed again.
My fingers pressed harder, entering her warmth, feeling just how good of a morning it really was.
I slowly inched my body over hers, positioning my legs between hers. With my right hand, I reached under her beautiful body and gently pulled, bringing her lower half back to me.
I eased my fingers away from her sex only to slide my boxers down. My cock was already hard, ready for Jordyn. I placed my hand to her hip and inched forward. The swell of her heat overtook my body as I sucked in my breath through gritted teeth. As I entered her early that morning, her back arched even more. She put her head back, her hair sprawling across the middle of her back. Her hands reached for the top of the bed as she thrust her hips back at me, allowing me to take myself to the hilt.
I held there, almost chewing on my tongue, feeling her, seeing her, unable to comprehend just how fucking beautiful Jordyn truly was.
“Rams… we have to hurry…” she was already breathless. “I’m sorry… but… hurry…”
My hands slid up to her sides and I gripped her tightly.
“That won’t be a problem, darling,” I said.
I pulled back like the hammer of a gun and raced forward.
Jordyn lowered her head and I watched her hands tighten around the top of the bed.
Forget coffee and breakfast, this was the best way to start a morning.
I was in the kitchen of a new build, reviewing the plans with Doc, organizing when we needed to coordinate for the plumber and electrician to come.
“Bring both in and let them figure it out,” Doc said.
“Not going to work,” I said. “We do it right.”
“I like working with your uncle better,” he said.
“Times change,” I said. “When are you due to retire?”
Doc smirked. “When I’m dead.”
“Then I guess we don’t have much time left to argue over dumb shit, huh?”
“You remind me of your uncle,” he said and slammed a hand to my back. “Company is in good hands then. I’m going to grab me a smoke and then go back upstairs to work on the bedrooms.”
“Yeah, no problem,” I said. “Enjoy yourself, Doc. Don’t work too hard.”
“Never do,” he said, as he strutted away with a limp in his right leg.
I left the plans laid out on the kitchen island and looked around at the walls. Anyone who saw the place would think it was a mess. But in no time, it would be a house. Another job completed, and then we’d move to the next one.
The work was good to have, especially with winter coming. We’d take anything we could get right up until the ground froze. Then it would slow down and pick back up in the spring. The ebb and flow of the business, the year, and life.
Amazing how I was suddenly thinking about life so much.
Hell, I was sleeping at Jordyn’s place three nights a week. Sometimes more. Thanksgiving came and went, leaving me sitting at Aunt Millie’s dinner table with the usual cast of characters, picking at the most delicious turkey in the world, thinking about Jordyn and Sam. They had dinner with Jordyn’s friend, Brenda. Aunt Millie insisted that Jordyn and Sam came for the holiday, but Jordyn promised we’d do another dinner soon.
I hated to be away from her though. I never took much stock in holidays before, but it felt a little lonely and empty, picking at pumpkin pie, drinking a beer, looking to my right, wishing that Jordyn was right next to me.
I did get to see her later that night though. After Sam was asleep, I came over and we did more than just relax.
The thing was… the whole idea of more got to me. I wanted more. Whatever that was. I wanted our lives to just slam together once and for all and be together. It wasn’t completely easy to do because of Sam, which was a line I would never cross.
“You motherfucker,” a voice yelled.
I snapped out of my puppy dog love trance and walked into the living room just in time to see Matt take a swing at Chris. He just got Chris’s jaw, enough to make him sidestep a few steps to the right.
“Oh, shit,” I whispered.
I jumped forward but not before Chris returned Matt’s punch with one of his own. He got Matt in the nose, blood spraying toward me.
When I got between them, I had a handful of Chris’s shirt.
Matt took another swing and hit me in the eye. It wasn’t all that much of a punch, but enough that I released my hold on Chris and gripped on to Matt’s shirt with both hands and drove him back until he slammed into a wall.
I let him go and looked back at Chris. “Go out back. Right now. Take a fucking break.”
“Yeah, fuck you then,” Chris said. “Tell him to go the fuck home and get over his shit.”
“Out!” I ordered.
Chris stormed out of the living room.
I looked at Matt. “What the hell was that about?”
“He’s a fucking prick,” Matt said. “Standing over my shoulder, telling me what the fuck to do. I’m not an idiot.”
“You two were punching each other over that?” I asked.
“Yeah. Fuck him. Him and his goddamn opinions. The way he talks.”
“Come outside with me,” I said.
We went out front.
The air was really cold and had the slight smell of snow. I looked around, knowing we were up against it to get this house done before winter rolled in. We needed to get everything finalized so it would have heat and electricity for the winter months.
“Tell me the truth,” I said to Matt. “No fucking around. Everyone knows Chris is an asshole. We all want to punch him.”
“I guess I was the only one to have the balls to do it,” Matt said.
“Not a chance.”
“It
’s over. Okay?”
“What’s over?”
“My fucking marriage.”
“Christ,” I said. I ran a hand through my hair. “Over…”
“It’s done,” Matt said. He leaned against the railing. “We talked last night and made the decision.”
“You both made that decision?”
“I can’t force her to be where she doesn’t want to be,” he said. “And it was probably a long time coming anyway.”
“Shit, man, I’m sorry.”
“Me too,” Matt said. “Everything with her was so fast and so planned. It was fucking crazy with her, you know? And then something changed. Like we went to bed one night and woke up different.”
“I think that’s called time, Matt,” I said.
“Yeah, well fuck time then.”
“Time is inevitable,” I said. “I’m sorry you two grew apart. I’m sorry it all happened this way.”
Matt sniffled and cleared his throat. “It was just the dumb shit, Rams. The stupid little fights. I never thought much of them, but she did. Those were her cries for help or change. I asked her why she didn’t just talk to me when things were changing, you know? I mean, I knew we were changing, but I thought it was a bad day. Or a bad month. Or a bad year. People have those, you know? It’s okay to have a bad year. I just didn’t realize it was going to be a bad year leading into a fucking divorce.” He put his head back. “Ah, shit, divorce. What a fucking word.”
I approached him. I made a fist and gently hit his ribs. “You’ll get through it. At least you know what’s happening now. No more waiting around. No more sleeping on my couch.”
Matt laughed. “Yeah, right. She’s got it all worked out. We’re going to sell the house, split everything down the middle. I mean, I’ve been here for how long… wondering what to do or how to fix things. And she’s at her parents’ house, fucking some guy, planning our divorce.”
“That’s rough,” I said. “I know there’s nothing I can do or say. I’ve never been down this road. So, anything I’m going to say will probably piss you off.”
Every Other Weekend Page 24
