by Ford, Mia
“Right,” I cough. “Well, I’m sorry, anyway.”
“And it’s fine,” Zoe repeats. She pauses. “How has work been going?”
Is she trying to make small talk with me? Well, it isn’t like we have anything else to speak about.
“It’s going well,” I say with a shrug. “It’s nothing major, but we’re looking at opening a new store…”
Before long, we gravitate to Zoe’s small couch. Somehow, our conversation begins to leap from topic to topic. At some point, we stop talking about my work, and start talking about Zoe’s flowerbeds, which she is very proud of, at which point I speak about my flowers, which I have cared for meticulously since Rose planted them six months after Alicia was born. Then Zoe tells me about her old job in the pet store, and she confesses that she’d love to get a cat, but she can’t afford it.
“Why don’t you sell a painting?” I ask her curiously; it’s a question that has plagued me since I realized how good she is.
She snorts. “Do you know how hard that is? Besides, I need to actually finish a painting for that to work!”
“Are you working on anything at the moment?” I ask.
“Not…as such,” she says evasively, and then changes the subject again, asking about my driver, who she seems to have become distant friends with despite the fact that she doesn’t know his name.
I want to press more, but I know enough to drop it. I am, however, really curious to see Zoe’s real art one day.
Before I know it, I look over at the clock and see that several hours have gone by. I blink at the clock, barely able to believe how long we have already been here. At some point, Alicia came into the living room and turned on the television, and she’s now snuggled happily between the two of us we talk.
Talking with Zoe… It’s easy. Surprisingly easy. I had thought it would be more difficult considering everything that has happened between us, but the words flow without pause.
Has being with Zoe always been this easy? I think back to the night we slept together. It hadn’t been hard to step forward and take her in my arms. At the time, it had felt like the most natural thing in the world.
I stare at her. She’s talking about her friend Katherine now, and her expression is animated. There’s still a smudge of green paint on her cheek, and she never bothered to change out of her paint clothes. She’s so full of cheer that my heart warms without permission.
And, unbidden, a thought crosses my mind.
If I really tried…could we work out?
Could my quickly deepening feelings make the possible consequences worth it?
I’m startled to realize that a large part of me wants to say “yes”. But then Alicia shifts beside me, and I sigh. Regardless of anything else, I need to just be satisfied with what we have now.
Anything more puts Alicia at risk…and that is something I will not allow.
Chapter Seventeen
Zoe
Sunday, when I think back on it, was like a dream. I had both Seth and Alicia in my house, and it had felt wonderful to sit there with the two of them. As the two of them went home, however, I knew that it couldn’t last. I would just hold onto the warmth of that day and continue on as we were.
That thought lasted right up until tonight, Monday, when I hear the words Seth has just said.
“What?” I ask, confused.
“I asked if you’d like to sit for a moment,” Seth repeats. “You know…so we can properly discuss the day. Normally, we don’t have long to talk.” He pauses. “Unless you’re in a rush?”
“No,” I say quickly. I don’t know where this is coming from, but I’m not about to look a gift horse in the mouth. “I think it’s a good idea.”
He smiles at me, making my heart beat faster, and I sit at the table as he collects his dinner out of the oven. Then he takes the seat across from me so we can talk face-to-face.
“How was Alicia?” he asks me.
“She was good,” I say. I run my finger over my collar to loosen it, feeling like the air is a little warm, and I notice Seth’s eyes following the movement. “She decided to put out a play with her dolls.”
“She directed?” Seth asks, amused.
“Of course not,” I say with a roll of my eyes. “Julie directed and Alicia played the main character.”
Seth laughs at this. “Of course. Did you happen to record it?”
I fish out my phone and hold it up with a smug smile.
“Every bit,” I say proudly. “She insisted on it. It’s going to embarrass her so much when she’s older.”
“I’m stockpiling videos, photos and stories,” Seth informs me. “I’m going to present them on her eighteenth birthday, in front of all her friends. She’ll probably inherit my company that night after she kills me for it.”
I snicker. “I don’t want to imagine Alicia as a teenager just yet.”
We both take a moment to consider it. Alicia is precocious, stubborn and willful as a five-year-old. As a teenager?
We simultaneously shudder at the thought. It doesn’t bear thinking about.
“We don’t have to think about that for a while, thankfully,” I say.
“Which is a good thing,” Seth says, heartfelt.
We look at each other. And then, before I know why, we’re laughing, trying to contain ourselves so that we don’t wake up Alicia. I snort and wipe tears of mirth from my eyes, looking up to see Seth watching me as he calms.
There’s a funny look in his eyes. I don’t recognize it, but I know he hasn’t looked at me like that before.
No, wait, he has. On Sunday, there was a strange look on his face, too. I caught it as he watched me talking about something, and then he and Alicia left not long after.
What does it mean?
“I’m glad you guys had fun,” Seth says with a moment. “Any plans for tomorrow?”
“We tend to make them up as we go,” I say with a smile. “Though, I was going to ask; there’s a carnival coming to town in a few weeks. Do you mind if I take Alicia to it?”
“Actually, maybe the three of us should go together,” Seth offers.
I blink, taken aback. “That would be great.”
“It’s not that I don’t trust you,” Seth adds. “But can you imagine trying to corral Alicia by yourself in a crowd like that? Even between the two of us, I’m pretty sure we’ll lose her in seconds flat.”
I laugh. “We can work out a game plan, then, before they actually get here.”
I yawn widely and stand up.
“‘You going?” Seth asks,
“Yeah, I’m pretty tired,” I say with a smile. “Thanks, Seth.”
“I should be thanking you,” he laughs. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”
I wave to him and then I leave. As the front door closes behind me, however, I pause, wondering what that was all about.
Then I shake my head. I should just be grateful that Seth feels like he can talk to me at all. Maybe he just had a bad day and wanted company.
Smiling, pleased that he would choose me to talk to, I return home with a spring in my step.
* * *
Three days later, I’m officially suspicious.
It isn’t that it’s a bad thing that Seth seems to be going out of his way to talk to me every night, it’s just a little odd. And I can’t work out why. Last night, when he came in, he went so far as to flick the kettle on and make two cups of coffee before we sat down to talk about the day.
Last week he pretended that I didn’t exist. This week, he’s giving me so much attention that I don’t know what to do with it.
I just don’t know why, and I don’t want to get my hopes up.
“You’re not building yourself up to ask me something?” I ask lightly on Thursday night as Seth invites me to sit with him once more, flicking the kettle on.
“What do you mean?” Seth asks with a frown, pausing in the process of taking two cups down.
“Well, it’s not hard to get the wrong idea wh
en you ignore me one week, and then act like I’m your closest friend the next,” I point out bluntly.
I feel a little bad when Seth winces.
“I told you, I had a lot on my mind last week,” he says sharply. “Anyway, does it matter? We were going to try and get to know each other better, weren’t we? After…”
He trails off. This time, I look away, trying to push away thoughts of that night. It’s difficult, though; memories of Seth’s body, his touch, of the way he was inside me haunt my thoughts and dreams.
And all this isn’t helping, if I’m honest. The way Seth is treating me, this week, and the way he looks at me sometimes… I’m starting to wonder if this is what it will feel like to be in an actual relationship with Seth.
That thought is frightening. It brings feelings to the surface that I’m not ready for yet, especially not while we’re in this odd limbo of not quite knowing where we stand with one another.
“Sorry,” Seth says after a moment. “We don’t know a lot about each other, right? So…I thought I’d give it a try.”
I eye him. I’m not sure what I’m looking for. Some trace of a lie? His expression is open and earnest, though, and I feel myself relaxing as a result.
“Well, if you have questions, ask away,” I offer.
Seth grins at me and carefully brings over two cups of coffee in one hand, his dinner plate in the othe.
“Why don’t you tell me about yourself,” he decides. “Then I can tell you something about me.”
I tap my lower lip, thinking. That feels like a fair exchange.
“Well…I don’t think I ever told you the whole story behind my babysitting experience?” I ask after a moment.
“Uh…no,” Seth says, looking a little awkward all of a sudden.
I raise my eyebrow at him, but shrug it off. “My siblings were all a lot younger than me. I was already a teenager when the next child was born. My mom was a teen mom, you see, and she and my grandparents raised me. Mom found my step-dad, though, and the two of them got married and had four kids. It was difficult to make ends meet, so I often got stuck babysitting.” I laugh. “You think Alicia is difficult? You don’t know difficult until you have four kids with very different personalities running all around the house.”
“That sounds frustrating,” Seth comments.
“A little,” I admit. “But I really love them all.”
“Do you still keep in contact with them all?” Seth asks, curious.
“Of course,” I say, startled that he’d ask. “They were all really supportive of my decision to come here. I felt a little bad coming here, but my parents promised that they would be fine. They wanted me to follow my dream.” I sigh, suddenly melancholy. “Not that I’ve achieved much since I came out here.”
“Your paintings?” Seth guesses.
“Yeah,” I say glumly. “I would love to sell my paintings…but I can’t finish one. Sometimes I think it’s a stupid dream, anyway.”
“I don’t think it’s stupid,” Seth says. That odd look in his eyes is back again. He smiles at me. “Can you show me your paintings one day?”
I flush. “They’re not good enough for that.” I clear my throat. “Anyway, I just gave you two pieces of information. Your turn!”
Seth laughs. “Fine. Do you want to know how I founded Angel Apparel?”
It takes me a moment to recall that that’s the name of his clothing brand.
“Sure,” I say; I’ve never seen this story anywhere.
“Well...it was actually because of Rose,” Seth says, running a hand through his hair. “She was sick even when I met her, and, some mornings, she would find it difficult to even put on clothes. All her clothes had all these fiddly pieces on them; buttons, ribbons, etcetera. We could have easily found her some clothes that were easier for her to wear, but she found some of my clothing designs, and demanded that I make some of them for her.” He shrugs. “I already knew how much I loved designing, but making clothes for Rose took it to another level. We joked around about making our own clothing brand, and she bet that I couldn’t do it in a year. It actually took a little longer than that…but it turns out that everyone liked my clothing line as much as I did.” His smile became soft. “Everything I designed after that…I did it by thinking of Rose in those clothes, even after she passed away.”
My breath caught in my throat. The love in his voice… It’s times like this when I remember that there’s little to no chance of Seth and I having anything more.
“It must have been hard, when she died,” I say quietly.
“Harder than you’ll believe,” Seth agrees. “Rose was everything to me. Then, suddenly, she was gone, and I only had Alicia and my company left. Even years later, I still think about her.”
“Why aren’t there more pictures around?” I ask.
Seth gives me a self-deprecating smile. “Right after she died, it was too hard to see her. When it became less painful, I put up the picture in the hall, and kept the picture in the bedroom, but I compiled the rest of the photos in an album. I’m keeping it for Alicia; one day, I want to show her just how beautiful her mother was.”
A lump rises in my throat. “That’s wonderful.”
“I don’t want Alicia growing up not knowing that Rose existed,” Seth adds. “Rose tried her best for Alicia; she made that doll while she was sick in bed. She loved Alicia.”
“Alicia loves her, too,” I assure Seth. “She takes Julie everywhere, and she was so proud when she told me that her mom made her.”
“I’m glad,” Seth says with a small smile. He’s quiet for a moment before he shakes his head. “Sorry, that got depressing.”
“It’s okay,” I say immediately. “I’m here if you ever want to talk.”
Seth’s smile grows. Then he reaches out and puts a gentle hand on mine, which is resting on the table. His touch is electrifying; it’s suddenly hard to breathe. I expect him to pull back immediately, as we’ve both been doing every time we even brush up against one another, but he doesn’t.
“Thanks,” he says simply.
There’s isn’t much to say after that. I tell Seth about Alicia’s newest passion (I have so many hilarious videos of her home movie adventures), and then I leave for the night. It’s getting late, and I still have to be back here in the morning.
I feel like I’m floating, though. Any sadness I felt over Seth’s lingering feelings for Rose is gone, and it’s almost like I can still feel his touch on my skin. And the way he looks at me, his eyes lidded, a spark in them sends a thrill down my spine…
It doesn’t matter how much of an uphill battle having any sort of relationship with Seth is. I’m quickly realizing that I can’t get enough of him.
Chapter Eighteen
Zoe
Somehow, it isn’t surprising when I dream of Seth later that night.
He stands before me in my mind, his perfectly chiseled body slowly reaching out for me, shirtless and dressed only in a pair of low-slung jeans. We’re in my bedroom, and the heated look in his eyes sets me instantly on fire.
“Do you want me, Zoe?” he asks, his voice low and inviting.
A groan escapes me, my body helpless to do anything other than gravitate toward him.
“Yes,” I breathe.
He reaches out and cups my chin in his hands, drawing so close that I can feel his breath on my lips. I feel myself already aching with need, my skin burning where he’s touching me. I want to both step away from him, half-afraid of being set aflame, and draw in closer like a moth to the light.
“Then on the bed,” he commands. “Undress for me, Zoe.”
I realize that I’m fully dressed. I scramble to undo the buttons on my shirt, shrugging out of it impatiently as Seth steps back and watches, his dark eyes intent on my every movement. He’s watching me so closely that I can’t help but flush as I strip down to my underwear.
“Wait,” he says as I move to unhook my bra.
I pause and he steps closer to me. He ru
ns his fingers over my hips, leaving little trails of fire everywhere he touches. Then he reaches around me, easily finding the clasp and undoing it, his eyes never leaving mine. My bra slips from my shoulders and falls to the floor.
Then his hand is on the small of my back and he’s tugging me forward, pressing us together so tightly that there’s no air between us. His jeans chafe at my bare legs, but I can feel his hardness between his legs, straining against the denim.
“Do you know how much I want you?” Seth growls in my ear. “I want to just throw you down and fuck you raw.”
I press, impossibly, closer, lust flooding me at his words.
“Then why don’t you?” I gasp.
He smirks and pushes me backward. My bed is suddenly there, and I fall down, Seth following me to settle between my legs. He grinds down against me, and I groan, wanting, needing, to feel more of him.
“Get these jeans off,” I demand.
“Patience, Zoe,” he whispers, and then he chuckles. “You’ll feel every inch of me soon.”
It’s a promise that makes me shudder, overcome with desire. He laughs again, the sound low and sultry, and he runs his hand up my leg and over my stomach. Then it dips lower, between my legs, and he rubs my soaked panties.
“You’re already so wet for me,” he teases. “You just can’t wait for me to be in you, can you?”
I gasp and writhe at his ministrations, my legs trembling. His other hand is wandering upward, pinching the nipples on my breast. Then he cups my breast, fingers digging into the sensitive skin as he massages it. I gasp and press closer, wanting him to touch me more.
“Feels good?” Seth asks with a teasing smile. “Oh wait, there’s somewhere more sensitive, right, Zoe?”
I don’t have a chance to ask what he means. He pulls back and then he’s dropping to his knees. His fingers play over the skin on my legs, and then he finds that spot that’s particularly sensitive. He pinches it, and the desire that’s trickling through me suddenly floods in on overdrive.
