by Kyra Jacobs
Edna studied them both with a stern eye, then dropped the act and gave Tyler a wink. “How’s about you follow me into the kitchen so we can get these flowers some water and us some cookies. Do you like cookies?”
“Do I ever!”
The duo made their way to the kitchen, leaving Felicity and Scott standing in the foyer. Alone. An awkward silence settled over them, but only for a moment.
“How did it go?” he asked.
So the man could be amicable when he wanted to be. That, or he didn’t want to get thumped on by his grandmother. Probably the latter.
“Better than expected. The fire was on the far side of the building, so the damage was contained to my neighbor’s unit. We had some water damage to our side, but it could have been a whole lot worse.” Per one of the firemen, five minutes more and they could have lost everything. She shuddered at the thought.
“Wow, that’s great,” he said. “So, you’ll be able to move back in once they get everything cleaned up?”
She smirked. “We’ve been here all of five minutes, and you’re already eager for us to leave, huh?”
“No. I just meant…you know. Less moving and stuff.”
Sure he did. “No, no less moving. They’ve condemned the building until it’s deemed structurally sound. Around here, that could take a while. Thankfully, I’d already started collecting boxes. We’re moving into a rental house across town in a few weeks.”
“A few weeks?”
A pained look crossed his face, and Felicity sighed.
“Look, Scott. Trust me when I say the last place I want to stay is somewhere I’m not wanted. But your grandmother was sweet to offer—and insistent, I might add. And honestly? I’m a bit short on options at the moment.”
“Who said you weren’t wanted here?”
She hiked a brow at him.
“Technically, I said I didn’t need your help, not that I didn’t want you here.”
“Well, that sure makes me feel better.”
He dipped his chin, looking repentant. “Look, I’m sorry if I sounded like a major ass this morning.”
“If?”
“But the truth is, I really don’t need your help. And it was a dick move of J.B. to hire you without getting my okay first.”
“I agree.”
“And— Wait.” Scott looked up in surprise. “You do?”
“Absolutely. I wouldn’t like someone getting dumped into my world, either.”
“Oh.” He nodded, relief washing over his face. “Then maybe we could just—”
“But that still doesn’t mean I’m leaving.”
“I wasn’t going to suggest—”
“Or that I’m not going to do what J.B. hired me for.”
Scott shrugged. “What J.B. doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”
“Maybe not,” she said. “But I’ll know. And it’s my reputation on the line here, buddy. Not yours.”
“Your reputation?”
“Not everyone’s a star, Scott. Some days, a solid reputation is all I’ve got to hang my hat on. It’s also what helps keep food on our table. So if you think for one minute that I’m going to lie to your boss to make things easy on you, you’ve got another thing coming.”
His eyes narrowed, and she knew it was pointless to continue this conversation. For tonight, they’d just have to agree to disagree. Maybe in the morning, after they’d both gotten some sleep, the rocky road between them would start to smooth out.
Felicity held his gaze a moment longer, then angled for the door. There were bags to bring in still.
“You know,” she called over her shoulder. “If you’d stop resenting the fact that I am here, you might find I’m not so terrible to have around.”
His answering snort said enough.
Challenge accepted.
…
Scott lay in his bed that night, wrestling with all that’d happened this week. Not only had he failed to be released from his restrictions, but he’d ended up with a personal assistant he neither wanted nor needed. And, because her luck seemed to be even worse than his, she and her kid had been displaced by some freak fire, and his ever-meddling grandmother had invited them to stay here.
Yep, just one great big, totally screwed-up cluster of people all staying under one roof. Definitely not how he envisioned rounding out the day, not after being so close to running her off this morning. After he’d goaded her about the little tea party she and Edna were having, he could nearly taste her resignation.
Just like he could nearly taste her cinnamon and vanilla scent any time she drew near.
He dragged a hand down the side of his face, trying unsuccessfully to wipe the unwanted memory from his mind. These next few weeks were going to be torture, he could feel it.
Though he didn’t know much of her story, he had picked up enough today to know it hadn’t been easy and likely hadn’t been all that pretty. Even so, she had a softness about her when it came to her son that counterbalanced her straightforward demeanor. A displaced factory worker is what his grandmother had told him, but she didn’t seem the type. She wasn’t bulky, didn’t have dirt under her fingernails, didn’t swear like a sailor.
No sense in over analyzing her or digging into her past, he thought, resting an arm across his eyes. Knowing might lead to understanding, which was one tiny step away from caring. And caring was something he definitely couldn’t allow himself to do, especially if they were going to be spending as much time together these next few weeks as he feared.
Focus and hard work—that’s what had gotten him where he was today and protected the career he’d spent a lifetime pursuing. Someday, he’d retire, hang up his cleats, and leave the pro circuit. Until then, his priority had to remain soccer, and distractions kept to a minimum.
Tough to do, when a major one was rooming across the hall from him.
His thoughts grew hazy, fatigue sabotaging his plans to spend the night conspiring against J.B.’s current agenda. Scott began drifting further and further into the sea of sleep. Somewhere in the distance, a door creaked open. His mother was up ahead, beckoning him to visit. The scene was blurry, as if he were looking through a piece of gauze. It’d been so long…
“M-mom?”
Scott bolted upright. His bedroom door was ajar, the hallway nightlight a faint backdrop to a small boy’s outline. It took him another moment to make sense of the view.
J.B.
Felicity.
Tyler.
“Wrong room, buddy. Your mom’s across the hall.”
“I can’t find her,” Tyler said in a small voice, still clinging to the doorknob.
Scott ran a hand through his hair. He knew nothing about kids and bedtime stuff. Nothing.
“Did you need something, bud?”
“I…I had a bad dream.”
Old creaky farmhouses were good for disrupting sleep; it’d taken Scott himself a few nights to get acclimated, and he’d lived here for years back in the day. But where was Felicity?
He eased out of bed to tug on a pair of nearby shorts, then grabbed one crutch and hobbled toward the boy. Tyler remained at the door, holding its knob in a death grip.
“You sure you looked in the right room?”
The boy nodded, his wary look more visible now that Scott’s eyes had adjusted to the dark. Sure enough, the room across from his had its door cracked open. He didn’t bother looking inside—in Tyler’s nervous state, he would have already checked it high and low. Down the hall, a thin strip of light peeked out from under the bathroom door.
“Did you try in there?”
Tyler followed his gaze. “Is that the bathroom?”
“Yep.” As if to confirm his statement, the sound of bath water running started, continued for a moment, then stopped. “There you go. She must be taking a bath.”
In fact, she was probably lounging in a cloud of bubbles right now, with her arms resting on the edge of the grand old tub, her head back…eyes shut…pink toes peeking out of the wa
ter at the other end…
“I can’t go in there if she’s taking a bath.”
Scott shifted his gaze from the door to Tyler, grateful for the bucket of ice water he’d dumped on that thought. “That makes two of us. You think she’ll be in there a while?”
One small shoulder raised and fell. Yeah, he didn’t know, either. But he couldn’t just leave the poor kid standing in his doorway clinging to that knob. Neither one of them would get any sleep.
“Come on, let’s get you back to bed.”
The boy remained close as they made the short journey to his room across the hall. Every light had been turned on, darn near blinding Scott as he crossed its threshold. He fumbled for the switch and flicked it off, sparing his corneas. Beside him, Tyler whimpered.
“Nothing in here to be afraid of, sport.”
“But there were noises. And creaking.”
“It’s just the house settling.”
“But why?”
“Buddy, if you were as old as this house, you’d creak and groan, too.”
“Really? How old is it?” Curiosity displaced a bit of wariness in Tyler’s voice as he clambered into bed and pulled the covers to his waist but remained upright.
“Seventy-five or so. Now, lay down and try to get some sleep.”
“Did you live here growing up?”
“For some of it, yes. So I know the noises it makes, and I know they won’t hurt you. Now, go to sleep.”
“I can’t.”
Scott shook his head. How many times had he told his grandmother the same thing as a child? “But you’re not even trying.”
“I’m too awake now.”
“And I’m about ready to fall over, I’m so tired. So good night.”
The boy fell silent, and Scott felt the swirl of victory in his chest. He headed for the hall, knee pounding and bed calling him. In the morning, he’d ask Edna to round up more nightlights—the tiny one in here clearly wasn’t doing the trick. And maybe a fan for some white noise. Anything to help Tyler sleep better so they all could, too.
There, that wasn’t so bad, he thought as he reached the door. A quick ushering of the kid back to his room and that was that. A few more steps and he could pull this stupid crutch out of his armpit for the day.
“Scott?”
Or maybe he’d spoke too soon. “Yeah?”
“Can I have a drink of water?”
The kid was stalling. Even Scott could see that writing on the wall. “Sorry, bud. Your mom’s in the upstairs bathroom, and this knee isn’t gonna let me make it up and down those stairs with a glass in hand.” It wasn’t a complete lie.
“Oh.”
“Good night.”
“Night,” mumbled Tyler.
Scott stepped into the hall on the sound of sheets ruffling, relieved to have that over. The kid was safe, he’d be just fine. Which meant Scott could get back to bed and put this whole rotten day behind him.
“Hey, Scott?”
He bit back a curse. It didn’t matter what Tyler asked this time, or how timid his voice sounded, whatever it was, his answer was going to be no. It was late, and Scott’s patience was long gone.
“Will you sit with me until Mommy gets back?”
Scott froze, his resolve faltering as the memory arose of him asking his father the same question many moons ago. His and Tyler’s situations were completely different; his fears had revolved around a mother nearing the end of her battle with cancer. Still, he could remember being scared and alone. It’d been one of the few times his dad had rescued him.
He let out a sigh.
“Sure, kid.”
He hobbled to the foot of the bed and took a seat, realizing too late that he didn’t have a clue what to do next. What had his father done for him? Made excuses, mostly, which so far hadn’t done Scott much good. He sat there, looking at Tyler, with Tyler looking at him.
“Bruno was in here with me earlier,” the boy said.
“Oh, yeah? He must really like you.”
“Cool. Well, mostly cool. I think he farted.” Tyler’s nose wrinkled. “It smelled awful.”
“Ugh. That dog is the gassiest beast on the planet.”
Tyler giggled. “It smelled like a hundred rotten eggs.”
“How about we not talk about what it smelled like, okay?”
“Okay. So…what should we talk about then? Oh! Maybe you could tell me a soccer story.”
“A soccer story?” said Scott.
“Yeah.”
The kid was enthusiastic, he’d give him that. Too bad it was hours past normal enthusiasm time.
“Okay, but just a quick one.” He mentally flipped through a few memories, then settled on one he thought Tyler might get a kick out of. “You know, back in college, I played with one of the best midfielders in the country. The guy was crazy fast, could find the goal from just about anywhere, and dribbled like nobody’s business.”
“Even better than you?”
Scott grinned. “Even better than me.”
“Whoa.”
“Yep, he was on the road to success. Then one day, he went up for a header and knocked heads with a guy from Duke. Got a concussion, and our coach sat him out for the rest of the game. The next day, he quit the team.”
“He quit?” said Tyler. “But what about playing for the majors?”
“That’s what we all said, too. Turns out, he didn’t want to play in the majors, and he was worried if he kept playing, he’d get too hurt to do what he really wanted to do.”
“What’s that?”
“To help sick kids get better. You might have heard of him, since he’s kind of a big deal around here. Does the name Doctor Evan Bedi ring a bell?”
Tyler’s eyes grew to the size of golf balls. “No way.”
Scott smiled. “Yep. I’ve got a picture around here somewhere of us together. I’ll show you if I can find it.”
“But that, I’m afraid,” came a soft but stern voice from the doorway, “is going to have to wait until tomorrow.”
Scott glanced back to find a rosy-cheeked Felicity in the doorway, wearing a purple cotton pajama top and matching pants. Her hair was down and newly washed, making it look darker and longer than usual. Even makeup free, she held a natural beauty most women couldn’t match. He returned his gaze to Tyler to keep from staring.
“Aw, Mom.” Tyler’s shoulders sank for a moment, then the boy perked back up. “Did you hear what Scott said? Dr. Bedi was one of the best.”
“I did. Now lie down so the poor man can get some sleep. I’ll be there to tuck you back in in a minute.”
And there’s my cue. Scott gathered his crutch while Tyler did as his mother asked. No doubt about it, those two had a special bond. The realization brought with it the ache of his own loss, far less potent than it’d been when he was twelve, but still there nonetheless. Scott gave Tyler a fist bump then made his way to the door. Felicity followed him into the hall, pulling the door shut behind them.
“Did he wake you?”
“Yeah. Said he had a bad dream. No big deal.”
“Sorry about that. He was asleep when I…” She sighed. “It’s been a really long day.”
Felicity’s gaze slid to the bathroom at the end of the hall, and she chewed at her lower lip. He wished she wouldn’t, because it had him considering her lips and how kissable they appeared to be. Her cinnamon and vanilla scent wrapped around his senses, teasing them, luring him in.
Before he knew what he was doing, Scott took a step closer. “Really, it was no big deal.”
She looked to him, pupils darkening in the dim light at the shrinking space between them. He knew he shouldn’t, knew he should keep his distance and keep things purely platonic between them, but all he could think was that he’d go mad if he didn’t get one small taste of her.
Her gaze slipped to his bare chest, and Felicity swallowed loudly. Heat spread through his veins. Still, she held her ground. Scott took another step closer, growing more and more int
oxicated by her scent. His attention shifted from the endless depths of those brown eyes to her lips, now slightly parted. Just one kiss, he told himself as her eyes drifted shut.
Just one…
He brushed his nose alongside hers. She drew in a soft breath.
…tiny…
His lips feathered across hers. Felicity angled her face toward him.
…kiss.
“Mom?”
The door behind them creaked on its hinges, and Felicity’s eyes went wide. She withdrew as though bitten by a snake and took a hurried step back as Tyler’s profile came into view.
“What are you guys doing out here?” he asked, rubbing his eyes.
“Nothing,” she said in a squeak. “I was, um, just thanking Scott for making sure you were okay earlier, sweetheart.”
Nothing? Scott wet his lips, still tingling from where Felicity’s had pressed against them. The kiss might have been brief and sweet, but “nothing” wasn’t how he would describe it.
“Now, go back to bed and wait there for me,” she continued, her voice stronger now. “If you get up again, we’re going to have words.”
“Fine.” Tyler’s shoulders slumped as he walked away, the door left open and forgotten. Probably a good thing, as Scott’s body foolishly wanted another kiss. His mind, however, knew better.
Felicity met his gaze, a delightful flush tinting her cheeks. “Anyway, thank you again for sitting with Tyler. I’m sure it meant the world to him.”
The world to him? Scott shook his head. He wasn’t used to playing the role of protector against dark shadows and creaky floors. At home, it was just him in his apartment, getting ready for the next day, the next practice, the next game.
Which is the way it needs to be, he reminded himself. Just him, getting ready for the next day. Alone.
The last thing he wanted was to mislead Felicity, and another kiss might do precisely that. So rather than pull her out of Tyler’s view and pick up where they’d left off, he started for his room with a nod.
“Like I said, no big deal.”
Chapter Five
Felicity waved goodbye to Tyler as he boarded his school bus the next morning, then climbed back into her aging Chevy Trailblazer. Next week the bus would start picking him up from Edna’s, but for the next few days she’d be driving him over to his usual pickup spot. A bit of a hassle, but what wasn’t right now?
