by Whitley Cox
“I’ll text you when we’re done and you can wander back,” Isobel said, taking a step away from Aaron.
He nodded before kissing the top of Sophie’s head. “She’s going to be okay? Not overheat?”
“She’s in a diaper and a onesie. She should be okay. If she gets too hot, you can always pull the wrap off her legs like this.” She showed him how. “Oh, I almost forgot. I found this in the back of my car from one of my previous kids.” She plopped a big, floppy yellow sun hat on top of Sophie’s head. “Probably a bit big, but it’ll do the trick until we find her her own.”
His smile was small and tight. “Thanks.”
Her head bobbed. “No problem.”
A car door on the street slammed, drawing their attention away from each other. Seconds later, Tori walked up the pathway, followed by her super-good-looking doctor boyfriend, Mark.
“Brought reinforcements,” she said. “Gabe is with Mark’s mom for a few hours. So Mark can either be some muscle, or he can … ” Her eyes darted between the two men.
Or he can babysit Aaron.
“I don’t need a babysitter,” Aaron growled.
Mark slapped him gently on the back. “Never said you did. But how about a friend? How about a guy who’s done the newborn thing, done the single dad thing? I’m an overflowing fountain of knowledge.” His grin was wide and boyish.
Tori rolled her eyes. “And not the least bit modest about it.”
“There’s a sports bar not too far from here, and although they don’t advertise it, there is a small section that allows kids. The owner is a fellow single dad, but by choice.” Mark shook his head in disbelief. “Just had a baby via surrogate. Cute little thing, Willow. We can go grab a beer, stare out at the traffic and not say a fucking word to each other. How’s that sound?”
Aaron’s hard gaze softened just a touch, then he turned and started to walk. “Fine, but you’re buying.”
Mark’s smile grew even wider, his green eyes twinkling with mischief in the warm summer sun. “I like him.” Then he took off at a steady lope to catch up to Aaron.
Isobel turned to Tori and rested her hand on her sister’s shoulder. “Thank you.”
Tori shrugged, and the two headed toward the front door of Dina’s condo building. “I figured as much as Aaron thinks he wants to be alone, he really doesn’t. And Mark’s done all that shit. As much as I’d never agree with him to his face, he really is a fountain of knowledge.”
Isobel unlocked the front door to the condo, and they made their way toward the elevator. “Yeah, your boyfriend’s ego is already big enough. You don’t need to inflate his head any more than it already is.”
They stepped on to the elevator.
Isobel felt her sister’s hand brush hers, and they laced their fingers together. Tori squeezed, then Isobel squeezed back.
“Thank you for coming with me. I couldn’t imagine Aaron having to do this, but I also wasn’t looking forward to doing it on my own either. I never knew the woman, but I know two very important members of her family, and the hole her death has caused in their life is enormous.”
Tori squeezed her hand again. “You’re an amazing person, Iz. A big heart and a tremendous friend. I just hope that when some of the grief-fog clears, Aaron can see that. I don’t want to see you get hurt or taken advantage of.”
Me too.
The elevator door opened, and they both stepped out, still holding hands. Dina’s unit was a few doors down the hall. They stopped when they came to unit 409.
“Ready?”
Isobel put the key in the lock, turned it and then pushed the door open. “No.”
“Me either.”
Then they stepped inside.
9
“That seems to be the last of it,” Mark said, dusting off his hands on his khaki shorts and leaning against Aaron’s black truck. “You guys need a hand unloading everything back at the house?”
Aaron shook his head, lifting his hand to block out the glaring sun. “Should be okay, thanks.” For the first time in what felt like ages, but was really just over a week, his heart didn’t ache nearly as much as it had. Sitting with Mark on the patio at the Prime Sports Bar and Grill had been therapeutic.
And it was a bonus that the owner, Mason, was a fellow new dad as well, because when Sophie started to lose her shit and root around like an anteater in the soil, Mason ran to his back office and brought out a bottle of formula.
“Can never be too prepared,” he said with a grin. “Us dads need to stick together.”
Mark had offered to feed Sophie so Aaron could finish his steak sandwich.
“You coming to poker tonight?” Mason asked, snuggling his own newborn daughter, Willow, against his chest. “My mom has been staying with Willow for a few hours so I can duck out.” He yawned. “I have to say, as much as I know they say breast is best and all that jazz, formula has its pros too. Anybody can feed my baby, and I get a bit more freedom.”
“Formula saves lives,” Mark said, tilting the bottle up a little farther for Sophie.
“That it does,” Mason agreed, adjusting Willow. His new tattoo that said Willow on his left forearm was bright and shiny in comparison with the other faded and older tattoo sleeves. He turned to face Aaron. “So, poker?”
Aaron wiped his mouth with his napkin before responding. “Not tonight, but I will soon. I’m not really into socializing at the moment, but I know I also can’t become a recluse. I need to make Sophie some friends.”
Both the other men snorted.
“That’ll come. Just take it one day at a time,” Mark replied. “The invitation is always open.”
Aaron nodded. “Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind.”
“She’s fed, changed and buckled in,” Isobel said, bringing Aaron’s thoughts back to the now and the fact that the four of them were standing out on the sidewalk in front of Dina’s building. All of Sophie’s things, including her crib, dresser, clothes and toys, were all packed up in the box of his truck.
Tori rubbed Mark’s back, and the way she looked up at him was so full of love, anybody who drove by would know they were mad about each other. “Ready to go?”
His eyebrows waggled. “Sure, but I think I’m going to take my girl for some ice cream before we go back and pick up Gabe.”
Tori’s blue eyes glimmered. “How about gelato instead?”
Aaron didn’t need to see it to know that Mark had reached down and pinched Tori’s butt.
“Anything for you, babe,” Mark practically purred.
Aaron fought the urge to make a gagging face and instead just looked away. But looking away meant looking at Isobel, and she too seemed uncomfortable in the romantic exchange between her sister and Mark.
Interesting.
“Call me if you need anything,” Tori said, leaning forward and hugging her sister, pecking her on the cheek before they broke their embrace. She turned to Aaron. “The same goes for you. Anything you need, just give a shout.”
It was a struggle, but he forced a smile and thanked her.
Mark and Tori looped their arms around each other and took off down the sidewalk toward his car, his hand boldly making its way into the back pocket of Tori’s jeans.
Isobel blew out a breath. “Those two are like teenagers.” She opened the passenger side door of Aaron’s truck and climbed in.
He walked around to the driver’s side and climbed in behind the steering wheel. “How long have they been together?”
Why the fuck did he care? Why was he asking this?
“She’s been working for him since January, but I don’t think they started sleeping together until maybe February or March. Made it exclusive and legit around March, I think. There was some serious drama there.”
Aaron hated that he was curious how Mark and Tori managed to make the employer fucking the employee thing work, but he knew better than to ask.
“Hungry?” he asked, throwing the truck into gear and figuring food was a better topic
of conversation than sex and relationships.
Hell, anything was a better topic than sex and relationships.
“Starved. Didn’t you just eat though?”
“Can always eat.” He shrugged.
Especially since he had hardly eaten anything at all last week. He was making up the calories now.
She craned her neck around to look in the back seat. “Soph’s asleep.”
He glanced in the rearview mirror at the mirror set up and poised on the car seat. Sure enough, his little niece was back in dreamland, her lips big and pouty as she sawed logs. “Feel like a burger?” he asked, stopping at a red light and getting his bearings. There was a pretty decent burger joint a few blocks away, and thankfully, they had a drive-thru.
She made a noncommittal face. “I could eat a burger.”
The light turned green, and he made a hard right. Moments later, they pulled into Ralph’s Burger Barn and got in line for the drive-through.
“What do you want?” he asked, regretting his gruff tone the moment he barked it out.
She leaned over the center console to check out the menu board. The fact that her body and that incredible almond vanilla scent was so much closer was not lost at all on him … or his cock.
Fuck.
“I’ll get the sesame ahi burger with yam fries,” she said, sitting back in her own seat.
“Tuna?” he said, looking at her with disgust.
“What? I had red meat last night. I try not to eat it more than once a week. Haven’t had fish in a while.” She glanced out her window, ignoring his blatant disapproval.
Shaking his head, Aaron pulled ahead to the speaker and gave their order.
They were on the road in no time, driving in silence, which was normally how Aaron liked it, but for the first time since Isobel walked into his life, he didn’t welcome the quiet. She’d gone above and beyond her job description today—and yesterday for that matter—and continuously took his foul mood in stride. She deserved more than grunts for answers and his cold shoulder.
He just wasn’t sure how to open the door of conversation. Had he glued it shut with his earlier behavior? Was there a common ground they could travel that was simply platonic and friendly?
Somehow it just felt easier being curt and closed-off with her, because deep down, he wanted to grab her dark ponytail in his fist, tilt her blue eyes to the sky and crush his mouth against hers. Could he find a happy medium between being angry at her and wanting to fuck her?
He’d never been good at happy mediums.
“How would you like to divide and conquer?” she asked, breaking the silence as he maneuvered his truck through traffic. “I prepped dinner, so it just needs to be thrown on the barbecue. Salad is made. Chicken breasts are marinating. I figure since it’s like four o’clock now, we can have a late dinner.” She twisted her face up. “I mean, really all that can be saved until tomorrow and we can just call these burgers dinner too. Have a snack later in the evening if we’re hungry.”
Aaron grunted and nodded once. That sounded fine to him. He ate when he was hungry, not when the clock told him to.
“Would you like to assemble the crib and I can take care of Sophie, or would you like to spend some more time with her and I can put together the nursery?” Isobel asked, craning her neck around to peer into the back seat of the truck. Aaron could see in his mirror and the mirror he had facing Sophie that she was still out like a light.
“I can put the crib together,” he murmured, happy that she’d broken the silence but not sure how much gusto he should give the conversation. “That’s a man’s job.”
She made a disgruntled noise in her throat, then spun in her seat to face him. “You better get over that misogynistic viewpoint and fast, my friend. You’re raising a little girl, and she needs to be taught there is no such fucking thing as a man’s job or a woman’s job.” She shook her head. “Fuck, even if Sophie was a boy, you should still be teaching him that there is nothing a girl can’t do.” They came to another red light. He glanced at her. She was pissed. Anger burned in those bright eyes, and heat flushed her cheeks. She looked like she was ready to tear out his jugular.
Jesus Christ, that fire started quickly.
He quickly held up his hands in surrender. The last thing he needed was a pissed-off feminist. “Sorry. Sorry. That’s not what I meant. Fuck.” He raked his fingers through his hair. “I didn’t mean to anger the feminist.”
Was that a growl?
Yep, he was pretty sure she growled.
“Anger the feminist? Are you fucking kidding me right now? Every goddamn person on this planet should be a feminist. Feminism isn’t about female superiority. It’s about gender equality. That there isn’t anything you can do that I can’t. That we should be paid the same if we do the same job and given equal opportunities.” She crossed her arms over her chest and huffed. “What fucking century are you living in, buddy?” She glanced out the window. “Anger the feminist. Well, you’ve sure as shit angered her now.”
Holy fuck. An uncomfortable heat raced through him, not only from embarrassment but also at the thought of pissing her off so much he could lose her.
He couldn’t lose her. He just couldn’t.
“I just meant that I wouldn’t know where to put all her clothes and stuff. I made the crib, so I can put it back together.”
She scoffed, her arms tightening across her chest, pushing up her cleavage. “Bullshit. You’re backpedaling. You put clothes in a goddamn dresser. I took the crib apart, so I’m pretty sure I could put it back together. You better become a feminist right quick, otherwise you will be enlightened, and you won’t like how it’s done.”
He swallowed. “Sorry.”
She shook her head again in frustration and pointed at the road. “The light is green. Go.”
He cleared his throat and nodded, feeling like he hadn’t just received a slap on the wrist. He’d received his entire ass handed to him.
“And another thing … ”
Oh fuck. He struggled not to roll his eyes and kept them positioned on the road ahead.
“There are but three things a man can teach a boy that he cannot teach a girl.” He saw her hold up her hand and three fingers out of the corner of his eye. “Three.”
She paused. Was she waiting for him to ask what they were? Did he want to know?
Thankfully, she didn’t wait for him to ask and began counting them out on one hand. “And they are: how to pee standing up, how to clean a foreskin, and how to grow up and not become a rapey bastard. Everything else, and I mean everything else can be taught to a girl.”
Rapey bastard?
He nodded, keeping his eyes glued to the road. “Okay. I’m sorry, I, uh, I was wrong. There is no such thing as a man’s job. I will do better by you and by Sophie.”
“Is that a promise?” she asked, her tone having softened a touch but not completely. They came to another red light. He turned his head and stared at the side of her face until she pivoted to look him. “Well?” she asked, cocking an eyebrow.
He nodded again. “It’s not just a promise, it’s an absolutely. I will do better.”
Triumph flared behind her eyes. “Good.” She glanced forward. “The light is green.”
He shifted his eyes forward again but then slid her the side-eye as he waited for the car in front of him to turn left. “Do you forgive me?”
Her narrowed gaze told him she was weighing her options. “I do, but I don’t want to hear any more chauvinistic bullshit come out of your piehole ever again.” She glanced into the back seat. “Particularly around Sophie.”
He blew out a breath just as they turned into his driveway. “Never again.”
She opened her door before he’d even turned off the truck. “Good. Now spend some time with your niece, because I’m going to put the nursery together.” Then she walked to the back of the truck box, popped down the tailgate and began heaving things out. He was still in the driver’s seat, staring at the ga
rage door and processing the last five minutes, when he saw her head toward the front door with her arms loaded.
She turned back to face him, a glare back on her beautiful face. “Chop, chop.”
Aaron’s eyebrows nearly flew off his face.
Chop, chop.
No woman had ever spoken to him like that before. No woman besides Dina, that is. And even Dina hadn’t ripped out his throat like Isobel had.
The woman had fire. And not just a single flickering flame like that of a birthday candle. No. She was a raging wildfire, unstoppable, relentless and fierce.
She wasn’t feisty. No, that word was condescending to a woman like her.
She was a force to be reckoned with. She put up with his bullshit but also put him in his place. Women who could do both were a rare breed. He could just imagine Dina doing a big fist pump and then high-fiving Isobel.
Isobel, a kind heart, a gentle soul and a warrior all rolled into one very attractive package.
He opened up his truck door and climbed out, only to see her standing on his front stoop.
“You have the keys,” she called out, irritation rolling off her in waves. “Chop, chop.”
Chop, chop.
He dropped his head as he approached her, struggling to hide his smile.
Then it dawned on him. For the first time in over a week, he didn’t have to force a smile. Instead he was trying to hide it, and it was all because of a woman he hardly knew who had taught him more about kindness, compassion and feminism in twenty-four hours than he’d learned in thirty-eight years.
“Licking your wounds?” she asked, the edge to her tone almost gone.
He lifted his head, loving the challenge in her eyes. “Something like that.”
Her brow furrowed and she angled her head to the side, studying him, concern filling her eyes where the rage and irritation had once been. “You seem different. Everything okay?”
You mean besides the verbal ass-whooping you just gave me?
He reached past her and unlocked the door but kept his eyes on hers. His smile was big and genuine. “Yeah. I think it actually will be.”
