I grinned. “She’d have to be, with you for a mom,” I said.
“God, don’t make me throw up,” Jessie teased. She cleared her throat. “Anyway, I was thinking about six? If that works?”
“Of course. I’ll see you then,” I said.
“Wait,” Jessie said. She giggled. “I didn’t give you my address, dummy. And you’re the smart one, but I know you’re not psychic.”
She gave me the address of the same apartment complex I’d driven past when I’d first seen her again and I made a show of writing it down, just in case she asked. After we hung up, I took a quick shower and shaved, then went out to a boutique toy store downtown. My daughter – my daughter! – was almost five, and I wanted to bring her something small.
In the end, I walked out with an entire stack of coloring books, crayons, markers, and a bunch of books that the woman behind the counter were selling fast. Back when I was a kid, my favorite thing to do had been color ... but my father had thought it was too girly, so I’d only gotten to do it in school.
I wondered if kids inherited things like that from their parents, or if it was more of a nurture kind of deal. Despite what Jessie had said, I was a little nervous. I’d never been great around kids – I’d always felt awkward and overgrown, afraid to use “kid” words but not wanting to sound like a pretentious asshole for using “grown-up” ones. Not only did Jessie have almost five years of experience on me, she seemed like one of those women who had a natural maternal instinct.
Not to mention, it had been her and Olive for so long that I wondered if Olive would resent the intrusion on their dynamic.
Get over it, I told myself as I got into the Land Rover and set my presents down on the passenger seat. She’s just a kid. You’ve fought fucking pirates, for god’s sake.
You’ll be fine.
In the evening light, the apartment complex looked even shabbier than it had that day when I’d driven by. The outside was stucco in what had likely been originally beach-pink but now more closely resembled an uneven, streaky tone of yellow. There was dirt and grime on the main entrance doors, and the lawn was littered with beer cans and cigarette butts. It looked like the kind of place that a college student would have loved, simply for the freedom of being away from their parents, but not the kind of place where any kind of adult would be happy living.
Knowing that Jessie had clearly scraped by on a meager income in my absence broke my heart – especially knowing that she’d had to raise Olive in such a place. I wished deeply that I could have been there to provide for her, or even send a portion of my pay back home to her and my daughter.
Fuck. There were so many wrongs that I still had to right, and I vowed to treat her like a queen. I knew that she was so independent that she’d likely resist at first, but after all of this time, it was the least I could do. I vowed to myself that the first thing I’d do, after asking Jessie to marry me for real, was to start looking at places by the beach where Olive could grow up seeing the ocean out of her bedroom window.
The inside of the complex was worse. The carpet was old and frayed, with patches of mildew, and there was graffiti scrawled on the walls that would have made some of my fellow SEALs blush. I hated thinking about Olive learning to read and seeing some of that shit, but at least there was comfort in the fact that she wouldn’t understand any of it.
I climbed the stairs to Jessie’s apartment and knocked on the door. When it swung open, she was standing on the other side, smiling. Her curves were spectacularly encased in a pair of leggings and a sweater that made her tits look even bigger.
“You look amazing,” I told her.
Jessie blushed. “Thanks,” she said. “You don’t look so bad—hey, what is that?” She eyed the package in my hands. “God, you’re going to start spoiling her already?”
I grinned. “Yep,” I told her as I crossed into the apartment and kissed Jessie on the mouth. She smelled even better than she looked and I felt my cock twitch and stiffen with excitement. When we pulled away, Jessie was smirking at me.
“We’re having pasta party,” Jessie said. “I hope that’s okay?”
“I don’t know what that is,” I confessed.
She laughed. “Pasta pomodoro,” she said. “But Olive calls it pasta party and ... well, the name stuck.”
For some reason, that little detail touched my heart than anything else Jessie had told me about our daughter yet.
“Where is she?”
Jessie coughed and pointed to the dining room table. The same adorable little girl I’d seen running around on the apartment lawn outside was sitting down, playing with some little plastic figurines. She had dark hair – the same as mine and Margot’s – in two messy pigtails. When she turned to me, I saw that she had Jessie’s beautiful round face and big brown eyes.
“Mommy,” Olive said, almost accusingly. “That’s not Aunt Henny!”
“No,” Jessie said, trying not to smile. “It’s not.”
“Who are you?” Olive asked. She hopped down from the chair, grunting slightly as she did so, and walked over to us.
I looked at Jessie expectantly. I wasn’t sure how the hell I was supposed to introduce myself, especially not to a kid. Finally, I took a deep breath and got down on one knee, so that I was only a little taller than Olive.
“Well, some people call me Ensign Grove,” I said. “But that’s usually only at work.”
Olive looked puzzled.
“And some people call me Ben. My parents call me Benjamin, or darling, which is even worse.”
“That’s a nice name,” Olive said. She was still blinking at me in confusion and I felt my stomach do a flip. Buck up, Grove, I told myself. It’s now or never.
“And you, well, you can call me Dad,” I said. “Or Daddy Ben. Or whatever you like, as long as it’s not mean.”
Olive’s big eyes got even bigger as she processed what I’d just said. She blinked at me once, twice, then three times before turning to Jessie.
“Mommy?” Olive asked. She sounded both hopeful and nervous and I held my breath, nervous as a high school girl waiting for her crush to ask her to prom.
Jessie waited a second, then gave a nod of her head.
“That’s right, hon,” she said. “He is.”
Olive launched herself at me. She wrapped her little arms around my neck and I scooped her up in my arms.
“Wait,” Olive said. She pulled back and looked at me, narrowing her eyes. “I’m Olive,” she said formally. “Did you know that?”
Jessie burst out laughing and I chuckled as I held my daughter.
“Yes,” I said. “I did. Your mom told me a lot about you.”
Olive hugged me once more and then I set her back down on the ground and got to my feet.
“I have these for you,” I said, handing her the coloring books and other gifts. “I thought you might like to color – that was my favorite thing to do when I was your age.”
Olive gasped.
“Olive,” Jessie said. She raised an eyebrow. “What do you say?”
Olive was too busy poring through the coloring books and boxes of markers and crayons to reply.
I chuckled. “Don’t worry about it,” I said to Jessie. “It’s just nice to see her smile. And you know, meet her.”
Jessie flushed. “Well, like I said ... the idea of waiting seemed really weird,” she said softly. She stepped closer and laced her fingers with mine, squeezing my hand with hers.
After the excitement of her new toys wore off, the three of us sat down to dinner. Jessie’s pasta sauce was excellent, and I ate two plates before groaning and patting my stomach.
“You’re gonna kill me, Jess,” I said. “There’s no way I can keep eating like this.”
Jessie grinned. “Well, too bad,” she said. “You might get a little fat. But that’s okay,” she said, reaching over and patting my stomach. “A few carbs now and then won’t kill you.”
“What’s a carb?” Olive asked, causing Jessie and
myself to laugh.
After a second, Olive joined in.
Having dinner with Jessie and Olive was the best night of my entire life, even better than the night I’d met Jessie. Growing up, my parents had always been so stiff and formal that dinner had often felt more like a funeral than cause for celebration and togetherness. Only Margot and I had been close, and even then sometimes our relationship could be prickly. The four of us had eaten dinner together every night in the dining room that was off-limits to Margot and me during the day, using proper silverware, and eating food like filet mignon with fondant potatoes or duck l’Orange with jicama.
But Jessie was so warm, so sweet, so loving. And Olive was a spunky, sassy little thing who – just like her mother – never seemed to hold her tongue or hesitate to speak when she had something on her mind. The two of them were so close, and watching Jessie tuck Olive into bed after dinner had nearly melted my heart.
I felt like I was turning soft, but maybe this was just the way life was supposed to be. Maybe, deep down, I was a family man after all.
It was only after I’d left Jessie’s apartment later that night that I realized one thing: in the midst of meeting my daughter for the first time and reuniting with my soulmate, I’d forgotten to tell her all about the fake engagement.
And the fact that she was supposed to be my fiancée.
25
Jessie
I had to admit, I’d been more than a little nervous about Olive meeting Ben for the first time. Olive was a great kid, but she was just that – a kid – and kids can sometimes be more than a little unpredictable.
But the meeting had been better than good – it had gone so smoothly and amazingly that thinking about it, it almost felt like a dream. Ben was a natural with our daughter. Maybe it was because they were related, or because she’d longed for a dad for so long.
Or maybe it was just fate – the three of us, together again.
A family.
It was funny – normally, when dating someone, I knew you were supposed to move slowly. But Ben and I had been together years before and now we had a child together. That made me think that we should accelerate the pace of our relationship, although the details beyond that remained fuzzy in my mind. Asking him to move in was unthinkable – Olive and I were already practically on top of each other in our apartment. Not to mention, the place was kind of a dump. I’d seen Ben’s condo, his luxe furniture and fixtures. The building itself was probably the nicest in Wilmington, and I knew it couldn’t have been cheap.
But it wasn’t like I could ask him if we could move in there, either. That would have been presumptuous of me – and what would Olive make of the change? We’d lived in our little apartment for her whole life.
Would moving traumatize her?
And what if that first meeting had been a fluke? What if Olive turned shy and taciturn the next time Ben was around? Part of being a single mom meant spending almost every hour of my free days with Olive. What if she got jealous whenever Ben and I wanted some time to ourselves?
Not to mention, there was still the question of his parents and how we were going to tell them that not only had we gotten back together, but they now had a grandchild of their very own.
These were all the thoughts running through my mind that day, as Olive and I were on the way to my parents’ big house for family dinner. I wasn’t upset – if anything, it was the obvious. I was beyond elated ... but the logistics of how my life was going to change were difficult to process. Ben hadn’t said anything about taking the next step, and why would he have?
We’d only been back together for a few days. If I brought up marriage – or even moving in together – I’d sound like a lunatic, or at the very least desperate.
What a mess, I thought. Glancing in the rearview mirror, I saw Olive was peering at my reflection intently.
“Mommy, you look sad,” she observed. “What’s wrong? Do you have a boo-boo?”
I shook my head. “No, baby. Mommy’s fine.”
“What is it?” Olive persisted. “Tell me!”
There was a shrill note to her voice that ratcheted my headache up a notch.
“It’s nothing, really,” I said. “Mommy’s just thinking about the future, that’s all.”
“Like, tomorrow?”
I nodded. “Like tomorrow, yes. And beyond that – like the next few years.”
Olive’s little forehead wrinkled as she tried to contemplate the possibility.
“I know, that sounds like a really long time, sweetie,” I said. “But as you get older, time starts going faster.”
“Really?” Olive’s eyes got big. “That’s silly, Mommy.”
“I know,” I said. “You’ll just have to trust me on that one, baby.”
Olive fell silent and I turned my attention back to the road. The late-afternoon traffic over the Cape Fear Memorial Bridge was excruciating, and my knee ached from constantly moving my foot from the gas pedal to the brake. I suppressed a groan as I thought about how much more difficult it would be in the summer, and wondered if Ben would ever want to move away.
The thought was both encouraging and almost troubling. I had lived in Wilmington my entire life – and so had he, for that matter – but both of our families were here. If I couldn’t be around to see my mom and dad and siblings all the time, I knew I’d miss them desperately.
And then there was Henny – who was more than a best friend to me. She was like a sister, someone who I counted on seeing on a regular basis.
A lump swelled in my throat and I coughed, trying to clear it away. I didn’t know why, but Ben’s return and our reunion had me feeling emotional about everything these days.
“Mommy, is Uncle Jared going to be there?” Olive asked.
“Yes, sweetie,” I told her. “And all of your other aunties and uncles, too.”
The traffic finally began to lift and I sped up to a comfortable pace. It didn’t take long before we reached my parents’ large house, and I parked in their driveway before helping Olive out of her booster seat and grabbing the bag of snacks and toys that we carried everywhere for her.
As soon as we got inside the house, Olive went running off with her coloring books. I heard her squeal as she plopped down in the living room and I smiled before kicking my shoes off in the foyer.
“Mom, Dad!” I yelled. “We’re here!”
“In the kitchen!”
I followed the sound of my mom’s voice and found her sitting with Jared, my father, and my sisters Jellyn and Joy.
“Oh my god, Jessie,” Joy said. Her eyes got wide. “Is that really you?”
I rolled my eyes. “I know, I know,” I said. “I’ve been ... um, busy with work.”
Jared and my mother eyed me skeptically and I gnawed at the inside of my lip. I didn’t know why, but I felt compelled to keep the news about Ben from my entire family until I knew exactly where things were going. My siblings weren’t the types to hear news and just accept it – they always had question after question.
Well, except for Jared. He shot me a knowing look and I flushed.
“That’s good, right?” My mother asked breezily. She, too, was looking suspicious and I forced a smile.
“Yes,” I said.
“So, maybe you’ll get that promotion soon?”
“I hope so,” I said.
Joy noticed the bag I was holding. “Oo,” she said. “Did you bring food?”
“Or wine?” Jellyn asked.
I laughed. “No,” I said. “This is all stuff for Olive.”
“Awww,” Joy cooed. She got to her feet. “I missed my niece so much, I feel like I haven’t seen her in years.”
“She’s in the living room,” I said. “But don’t be offended if she’s more interested in her new coloring book than you.”
Jellyn got to her feet, and Joy followed suit. The two of them left the kitchen and seconds later, I heard Olive’s shrieks of delight at the sight of her aunties.
“So, busy a
t work, huh?” Jared asked slyly.
I groaned and sank down into a chair. “Yes,” I said. “And ... with other things.”
My mother laughed. “You’ve always been a terrible liar, honey,” she said. “What’s going on? Are you seeing someone?”
I swallowed and shifted in my chair. “Yes,” I said.
My mother and Jared looked at me expectantly. A moment of silence passed and the atmosphere in the kitchen turned tense and almost unpleasant. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt so uncomfortable sitting in my parents’ kitchen – it had to be years ago, maybe even when I’d come over to drop the bombshell that I was pregnant with Olive.
“Well, aren’t you going to say anything else?” My mother pressed. “Tell me about him,” she said. “What does he do for a living?”
My heart did a flip in my chest.
“It’s Ben,” I said finally.
“What!” Jared screeched. “Oh my god, why didn’t you tell me?!”
“It just happened,” I said. “I mean, recently.”
“Well, duh,” Jared said. He rolled his eyes. “This is so exciting!”
“It is,” I conceded.
“What made you decide to get back together?” Jared pressed. “Has he met Olive?”
“We still have feelings for each other,” I said. Saying it out loud like that made me feel strange, like I was purposefully diminishing the intense love between Ben and myself.
“And Olive?” Jared asked. “What does he think of her? Does he like, totally love her? Oh my god, this is so great,” he gushed. “So romantic!”
I nodded weakly. It was then that I realized my mother still hadn’t said anything – something most unusual for her. She was giving me a weird look, almost as if she was seeing me for the first time.
“Mom?” I asked. “Is everything alright?”
She nodded. “Of course, dear,” she said. “Are you serious?”
“Well, I mean, it literally just happened. Like, days ago,” I said.
“Yes, but is he going to make an honest woman out of you?” Her tone wasn’t accusing, but there was an edge there that I hadn’t heard before.
Forbidden First Times: A Contemporary Romance Collection Page 75
