by Heller, JB
Ari giggles, and it wraps around me like a fist clenching around my heart. I want to be the one responsible for her making that adorable sound every damn day.
“I played dollies and trucks and pincesses,” she exclaims excitedly.
“That sounds fun. Did Mummy play too?”
Her little face scrunches up. “No. Mummy worked.”
This is news to me. I thought Tilly was a stay-at-home mum. My eyes move to her, and she shrugs. “I blog for my friend Charlotte. You met her the other day at McKenna’s.”
“You blog? About what?”
Her cheeks pink beautifully, and she glances away as she answers me. “Fashion, from a mum’s perspective. I have a couple of columns I do each week. Mumming Mondays, and Tips from Tilly, and Thrifty Thursdays.”
“That’s great, Till.”
She finally brings her eyes back to mine. “Yeah?”
I nod. “Hell yeah, babe. You’ve always had your own style. Except when you’re stealing other people’s T-shirts,” I tease then wink.
She blushes again. “I swear that’s my shirt.”
“Sure it is.” I chuckle.
By the time four-thirty rolls around the following day, I’m full of nerves. Lee will be here any minute to do the evening routine with me. I don’t want to scare him off, and Astrid can be extraordinarily painful some days. I’m praying today is not one of those.
Maybe I should have suggested a different activity for him to get to know the kids. This time of day is definitely their worst. Crappity—crap—crap.
Astrid struts out of her room in a floor-length princess gown and a tiara, holding a sparkly clutch and teetering in matching dress-up heels. She examines the pasta I’ve prepared for their dinner and turns her nose up. “I’m not eating that,” she decrees.
And here we go. “Yes, sweetheart, you are. You like pesto pasta. All princesses do.”
She sniffs at it and cringes. “Not this princess. I’ll have a cheese toasty tonight.”
I scoff. “Uh, nope. You’ll have this yummy pesto pasta I made just for you and your brother and sister.”
Astrid narrows her eyes on me. “No, I won’t.”
“Yes, you will.”
A nasty little smirk twists her face. “No, I won’t. And you can’t make me.”
I take a deep, calming breath. Her stubbornness will serve her well later in life. But right now, it’s pissing me the hell off. Placing my hands on my hips, I glare right back at her. “Astrid Brielle Collins, you will eat this pasta if I have to force-feed it to you.”
She scowls and mirrors my stance.
I’m saved from her rebuttal by a knock at the door. I walk away, leaving her stewing in the kitchen while I open the front door to a too-good-looking-for-this-time-of-day Lee. My face crumples when he extends a bunch of sunflowers towards me.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” he asks, stepping in and wrapping his arms around me.
I don’t even lift my arms to hug him back. I’m tired and frustrated, and he’s being so sweet and lovely. I suck in a deep breath and close my eyes, just enjoying the feel of his warm, solid body against mine.
He takes a small step back, keeping one arm curled around my waist. “What’s up?”
“Astrid is in fine form. You should probably go; you don’t want to deal with this.”
“I’m not leaving, Till. I’m here for the good, the bad, and the ugly.” He winks and grins.
I shake my head and warn him, “You have no idea just how ugly it’s going to get.”
“I can take it. Bring it on, baby.” He presses a kiss to my temple, and I relax into his side.
“Lee!” Sailor calls as he runs into the lounge room, a book in his hands and his miniature piglet, Pickles, hot on his heels.
Lee releases me and approaches Sailor. “Hey, buddy. Can you help me find something to put these flowers in?” Then he sees Pickles; his eyes widen. “Is that a pig?”
Sailor chuckles, drops his book on the coffee table, and scoops his piggy up in his arms. “Yep, this is Mr. Pickles, or Pickles for short. He’s super smart, just like me,” he tells Lee then offers Pickles to him. “You take Mr. Pickles, and I’ll show you where to put the flowers.”
Lee glances at me, and I give him a subtle nod before he takes the offered piglet. He cradles him in one hand, positioning him under his arm like a football. Sailor wraps his fingers between Lee’s pinkie and the bunch of flowers Lee is still holding. My little man leads Lee into the kitchen.
I follow, my heart melting a little at the sight. Astrid is still standing by the dining table, hands on her hips, waiting for my return, no doubt, so we can continue our argument. When her gaze takes in Lee, her eyes narrow further. “What’s Just Lee doing here?” she demands of me.
“Lee has come for dinner, Astrid. Now, would you please get Ari and tell her dinner is ready?” I ask, hoping like hell she’ll do this one thing without fighting me.
She doesn’t answer me, just turns on her little heels and clip-clops down the hall to retrieve her sister. Thank God.
I set bowls out and dish up their pasta while Sailor and Lee sort out the vase for my beautiful flowers. A warm hand presses into my lower back, and I turn to find Lee at my side. “Where do you want me?”
“Ari might need a little help. Sailor can handle himself, and I’ll handle the madam.”
Lee nods. “Good game plan.”
Sailor climbs into his seat then taps the table beside him, looking at Lee expectantly. “You can sit here, between me and Ari.”
“Thanks, bud,” Lee says. “Where should I put Mr. Pickles?”
“Just pop him on the floor,” I tell him. “Sailor, you need to give him his dinner before you have yours, then go wash your hands.”
A bashful little blush coats his cheeks. “Oops. Sorry, Mummy. I forgot.”
I drop a kiss on top of his head as he passes me to retrieve Pickles’ food. My skin prickles with awareness, and I turn to find Lee’s eyes on me. He’s at the sink, washing his own hands.
“What?” I ask.
He grins and shakes his head. “A piglet? You couldn’t just get a dog, could you?”
“Sailor’s allergic to dogs. Mr. Pickles is very clean, just as smart as any dog, if not smarter, and he’s already potty trained.” I shrug. “Besides, Sailor isn’t a normal little boy. A dog wouldn’t suit him.”
Rounding the kitchen bench, Lee steps into me, rests his lips against my temple, and says, “God, I’ve missed you.” Then, he strides away and takes his seat at the table. Butterflies swarm in my stomach, and my heart squeezes as emotion sweeps over me. I dip my head to hide the crazy-big smile brought on by his small gesture.
Astrid stomps back in, Ari skipping behind her. I scoop Ari up and plop her in her booster seat next to Lee. She beams at him, and he winks back.
When I turn to Astrid, she’s got her hands braced on her hips again. Dear God. I heave a sigh. “Astrid, please sit down and eat your dinner.”
“I want a cheese toasty.”
“And I want an all-expenses-paid trip around the world, but we don’t always get what we want, Astrid. Now sit your little toosh in that seat and eat.” I drag her chair out from the table for her and gesture to it with one hand.
She rolls her eyes at me like I’m the one being a pain in the arse right now. “Fine,” she huffs and slides into her seat, picks up her fork, and starts eating.
Lee stifles a chuckle, and I turn my flustered gaze on him, throw my hands in the air, and stalk to the fridge. I need my wine a little earlier tonight. I pour myself a glass then lift the bottle to him. “You want some?”
He shakes his head. “Maybe later.”
The rest of mealtime goes smoothly, and I’m beyond relieved. One task down, two to go.
When the kids are all finished, I announce, “Bath time! Who’s first?”
“Me!” Sailor shouts, taking his empty bowl to the sink and rinsing it. “The girls take forever,” he mutters.
&n
bsp; I pick up the other dirty dishes, but Lee takes them from me. “I’ll do the kitchen; you do the bath thing.”
“Okay,” I breathe then follow Sailor down the hall to the bathroom. He’s stripped off, leaning against the wall with his ankles crossed, waiting for me.
I get the water temperature right and put the plug in the bottom of the tub. “Lavender or Apple Fresh body wash tonight?” I ask him.
He purses his lips and taps his chin as he considers his options. “Lavender, please. I think Astrid needs it,” he says, his eyes widening theatrically. “You know, ’cause lavender is relaxing.”
I burst out laughing and scruff up his perfect hair. “Good choice, buddy.” I pour a generous amount of wash into the water then put a little extra on a cloth.
Sailor climbs in and takes the cloth from me. I sit on the closed toilet lid and settle in for our nightly bathtub chat.
“Judy Turner is in love with me,” he announces.
“I thought she was in love with Jackson?”
He rolls his eyes. “She was last week, but she loves me now. Why do all the girls have to love me? They annoy me when I’m trying to read and want to sit with me at lunch and talk, talk, talk. I just want some quiet time, Mum.”
I have to curl my lips in and bite down on them to stop my laughter. This kid. I shake my head and give it to him straight. “Well, baby, you’re a catch. You better get used to it now. It’s only going to get worse.”
His eyes widen in dismay. “What? Why?”
“Because you’re awesome.” I shrug.
Sailor’s shoulders slump in defeat. “Fine. But I don’t like it.”
“I know, sweet pea. I know. Now, let’s wash this hair so it’s nice and fresh in the morning, yeah?”
“Okay,” he agrees then reaches for the cup I use to wet his hair down.
When Sailor is done, he climbs out of the tub, dries himself off, then drops his towel and takes off running. I chuckle at his cute little butt disappearing around the corner on his nightly nudie run.
As soon as Pickles hears the familiar sound of Sailor’s run, he comes skidding out of his room to do a lap of the house with my wee man.
“Whoa there, big guy!” Lee yells from the lounge room, and I laugh harder.
Sailor squeals and runs back down the hall, poking his head in to me. “I forgot Lee was here.” He giggles. “He saw my penis!” His little hand flies to cover his mouth as he continues giggling.
“Oh no!” I mock gasp, placing my palm over my heart.
Pickles’ little trotters can’t bring him to a halt as fast as Sailor, so he goes sliding past the bathroom, his legs splaying from under him. He rights himself and scuttles over to sit at Sailor’s feet, his curly tail wiggling.
Sailor’s eyes shine bright blue as he cups his little hand around his mouth and whispers, but not quietly, “I bet mine’s bigger than Lee’s.”
“Hey, I heard that!” Lee speaks from outside the bathroom then pokes his head around the door frame above Sailor’s head and mouths, “And you know that’s not true,” to me.
I throw my head back and laugh. Sailor grins at Lee, turns around, and shakes his bare butt at him, then takes off for his room.
“Eww, put some clothes on, Sailor!” Astrid complains on her way in to me.
Ari is wrapped around Lee’s leg like a baby koala, looking up at him with love in her eyes.
Maybe tonight isn’t a complete write-off. He hasn’t run out screaming ... yet.
I’m going to go ahead and call tonight a success. The kids are all in their beds, and I’m sitting on the couch, nursing a beer with Till as she sips the same glass of wine from earlier. “That wasn’t so bad,” I remark.
She twists her head to me and smiles softly. “It could have gone better. But it’s not over yet. Give it a few minutes, and it will all start again.”
My brows draw in. “What do you mean? They’re in bed. We’re sitting pretty, right?”
“Pfft, not even close. We’ve got at least another half hour yet.”
“Of what?” No sooner has the question left my lips than Astrid appears at the end of the hallway, glaring at us.
“I’m thirsty,” she states.
“That’s nice, sweetheart. You know how to get yourself a drink of water,” Till retorts.
Astrid shakes her head. “I want juice.”
Till sighs. “And just like every other night, my love, juice is not an option.”
My eyes volley between the two strong-willed women staring each other down until Astrid stomps her foot, turns around, and goes back to her bedroom. Interesting. She’s so combative with Tilly, but she caves pretty quickly.
I throw my arm over the back of the couch and tug Tilly into my side. She relaxes against the cushions and snuggles into me, then sips her wine again. I could get used to this. My fingertips trail up and down her bare arm, just enjoying the feel of her in my space again after so long apart.
She tips her head back to rest on my shoulder, and I stare into her big brown eyes. They suck me in just like they always have. I drop my forehead to rest against hers, bringing our mouths so close together we’re breathing the same air.
“I’ve missed you,” I murmur.
Her mouth curves in a small, sad smile. “I’ve missed you too.”
I drop my empty beer bottle on the couch beside me then curve my hand around her jaw before trailing my fingers around the side of her neck. She closes her eyes at the contact and leans into my touch. “Till,” I whisper. “I need to kiss you, baby. It’s been too long since I’ve felt your lips on mine.”
“Okay,” she murmurs and arches her neck, bringing her mouth closer.
My breathing becomes ragged, my pulse thunders in my ears, and I finally, fucking finally, brush my lips against hers.
My senses are overwhelmed by the feel of him—his fingers entwined in my hair, his hard body pressed into me, and thank God above, his lips caressing mine.
I’m home.
His arm at my side tugs me impossibly closer, and his lips never leave mine. He tastes me, nibbling my bottom lip before his tongue snakes over it. I gasp at the sensation, and he takes the opportunity to delve inside. Slow, deliberate strokes make my brain short-circuit.
I grab his bicep, holding on for dear life. This kiss is everything; he is everything.
“I’ll never get enough of your lips,” he groans against my mouth, causing a jolt of electricity to shoot through my entire body.
“Yes,” I whisper, my hand clutching his bicep and sliding up his arm, over his shoulder, and into his hair.
“Eww!” Sailor cries.
We fly apart, landing at opposite ends of the couch.
Lee’s eyes lock on my son, and to my complete and utter shock, he laughs.
Sailor looks between us—my face is beet red, I just know it—then he approaches. He climbs up onto the couch, positioning himself in the middle. He laces his fingers in his lap, glances at Lee, then at me. “Want to tell me something?” he queries, arching a little brow.
I lick my lips and run my hands through my hair, pushing it away from my face, then clear my throat. “I suppose I do,” I tell him. “Lee and I, we’re very good friends. And sometimes very good friends, well, they umm—”
Sailor cuts me off with a raised hand. “Mummy, I know all about adults having the sex to make babies. But why are you having the sex with Lee? If you make a baby with him, it will be my cousin and my brother.”
Horror. That is what I’m feeling in this very moment—pure unadulterated horror. “What? What do you mean you know all about sex?” I demand, only able to deal with one part of what he said at a time.
He rolls his eyes. “I read about it.”
“What the hell kind of books have you been reading, Sailor? You haven’t been taking books from Charlotte, have you?” God, I hope not. What the shit am I going to do if he’s been reading her kinky books? My poor innocent baby’s eyes have been tainted.
“No, her
books have nakey men on the front.” He giggles, pressing a hand to his forehead.
I close my eyes, inhale a deep breath through my nose, hold it for a few seconds, then release. Sailor may be genius-level smart, but he’s still a little boy who finds nudity hilarious.
When I open my eyes again, Sailor and Lee are exchanging looks. I rest my hand on Sailor’s leg, getting his attention. “First of all, honey, you shouldn’t be going through Charlotte’s books; that’s rude. Second, Lee and I were absolutely not having sex.”
Sailor scrunches his little brows in a cute-as-hell frown. “It looked like you were.”
“That was just a kiss, sweet pea.”
“But kisses like that turn into the sex,” he explains.
Oh, Lordy. I am not ready for this conversation—he’s four!
I glance at Lee helplessly. He’s trying and failing to hold his amusement at bay. His eyes are shining with mirth, and he seems to fight a smile. I narrow my eyes at him, and he clears his throat then scrubs a hand over his face. “You’re right, buddy,” Lee says.
What the shit? I bug my eyes out at him, but he ignores me.
“I know,” Sailor replies, completely oblivious to my distress.
“But that’s not what we were going to do. I just really, really wanted to kiss your mum. It’s been a real long time since I’ve kissed her, and I missed it. I swear, bud, me and your mum? We’re not going to have the sex on the couch.” He looks so pleased with himself for delivering this explanation to my way-too-smart-for-his-own-good son.
Sailor scratches his temple, appearing to be mulling over Lee’s words. He purses his lips then narrows his eyes. “But you were going to have the sex. Just not on the couch.”
“No!” I blurt. “No sex. None. Not even a little bit. Like you said, sex makes babies, and Mummy has enough babies. No more babies happening here, ever. Mummy is closed for business, Sailor. You understand?”
“So, I’m not going to have a cousin-brother?” he asks.
“No, sweet pea. No cousin-brothers for you,” I assure him.
That seems to be enough for my boy. He nods, climbs up on his knees, and shuffles over to me before dropping a kiss on my cheek. Then, he trundles over to Lee and looks him dead in the eye. “I like kissing Mummy too. But not in the sexing way—just the I love my mummy way.” Then, he wraps his arms around Lee’s neck and gives him a quick squeeze before he gets off the couch and returns to his bedroom.
