by Ember Leigh
A few, awkward minutes of silence went by, the only noises his kneepads sliding over the laminate, grunting, and the eventual click of the panel into place. He realized, perhaps a bit late, he’d offended her. Or maybe the word he’d picked from the recesses of his college years hadn’t been the right one? His cheeks began a slow simmer.
“I think you meant multifarious,” she finally said, “and the question is about as pointless as asking someone why they are a brunette.”
He looked up at her, surprised by the response. “You think so?”
“I am how I am.”
“False.” He leaned back on his heels, happy for the chance to engage her on a deeper level. And watch her without looking like a sneaky creep. “We are products of our environments. Most of us, at least. So, my question is, why are you a Jack…excuse me, Jill-of-all-trades?”
The corner of her mouth lifted.
“I think this is a perfectly normal question. Some people are content being homebodies. Others seek adrenaline and constant stimulation. But sometimes it’s only because it’s all we’ve known—or it’s because we never had it. You know what I mean?”
She seemed pleased with his elaboration and drifted into thought. He liked the way her hair slipped out of the ponytail she’d made, and the way it stuck to her neck in a few sweaty spots. He liked the way her nose crinkled as she pondered her response, and he really liked the anticipatory swirl in his belly as he awaited her answer.
“You raise a fair point,” she said at last. “I know your options were examples, but I have to say, it’s a bit of both. I had interesting parents but not necessarily for positive reasons. I had a lack of diverse background, followed by an explosion of diversity. Does that help answer your question?”
“Technically, yes.” But her vague-isms didn’t satisfy him. The girl didn’t give information unless prodded—and even then, it was a chore to get her to elaborate. He craved more, like just-one-last-bite of a delectable cookie he couldn’t get enough of.
Emmy began sniffling. Both their heads shot in her direction.
“What’s wrong, baby?” Rose rushed toward the child, kneeling in front of her as she assessed the issue.
She’s a good mother, but I never would have pegged her for one. She cared for Emmy like any mother, as far as he could tell. But the same way he couldn’t imagine her doing crunches behind the desk as an OB-GYN receptionist. He had a hard time believing a woman like her spent most of her time raising a kid.
Call him crazy. But this lady had a secret layer.
And God damn it he wanted to discover it.
He watched as she picked up the baby, holding her close. Rose then made an awful face, held her a bit farther away from her body, and coughed.
“Is she okay?” The baby acted normally from where he stood.
“Yeah, she just pooped. Like, all over.”
Garrett made a move to come closer but thought better of it. “Oh, wow…what are you—what should we do?”
“Time for a bath, I suppose.” Rose walked to the door, still holding Emmy a solid foot away from her body, her nose scrunched up in distaste.
Garrett followed, like he was obligated to help. Or maybe if he went with her, it might score some points…or at least look like he knew what the hell he was doing. She turned back to him.
“You keep working. I can clean her up myself.”
“No, we’re work buddies. I wouldn’t make you snap the laminate by yourself; I shouldn’t make you clean the baby by yourself.”
She smiled and didn’t say anything more. He followed her, pleased by the bold resolve. He was a good man, a dependable man. A man who would offer to do things other men wouldn’t. He sniffed, a strange undertone of something reaching his nose.
Emmy looked at him from over Rose’s shoulder, bleary-eyed and pouting, and there it was again. The smell. He gulped, taking a tentative sniff.
Emmy. Dear lord, what a heinous smell. He silenced a guttural yelp, turning his head away from the wake of stench he’d involved himself in.
From across the room he hadn’t imagined it would be so…potent. What did this kid eat, other than fruit and the occasional chicken wing?
“We’re gonna get you cleaned up,” Rose whispered as they eased their way into the bathroom. He loved the way she could both console the baby and gracefully ease open the bathroom door with her hip, showing no signs of wanting to empty the contents of her stomach based on whatever was in this kid’s diaper; this woman fascinated him in many ways, more ways than he could even consciously recognize.
“Okay. You hold this.” She handed him Emmy, who she’d stripped down to bare butt. Rose tossed the soiled pants in the sink, making another face at the stench. Garrett caught another whiff and swallowed the ensuing gag. God, it was worse than adult poop. Worse, even, than a bad dinner and a hotel full of workers with upset stomachs. Way worse.
He grabbed Emmy under the armpits, her tiny frown betraying suspicion and discomfort. Though a messy bottom might have the same effect on him, even at his age.
“Your mommy’s gonna wash you off.” He tried to jiggle her a little, but the frown turned into a scowl. Maybe kids didn’t like to be jiggled. Could it rearrange their organs? Did that even make physiological sense? “Don’t worry, Emmy, you’ll be clean in no time.”
Rose tested the bathwater as the tub filled. Garrett made some silly faces, trying to get the frown to turn into a smile, or at least a half-hearted giggle. Something to show he knew what he was doing. Emmy struggled against his grasp, but he remained firm, resisting although really she was sniggly as hell and could fall and break at any moment.
“They’re like worms, aren’t they?”
Rose smiled up at him. From his point of view, he was totally impressing her, wowing her with his natural uncle skills. She probably couldn’t get enough of him right now. She had no idea on the inside he screamed, horrified by enormous smells from such a tiny person.
“Is this your first time holding a baby?” There was a glint in her eye.
His throat went dry. “Why do you ask?” Was she interrogating him? Or was it obvious he had no idea how to hold a child without breaking it? “And, no, of course not.”
She didn’t answer right away, but kept smiling. “It’s okay, just curious.”
“I…baby-sit a lot.”
“Oh really?” She shut off the water, testing it with her fingers. “With all the traveling you guys do for the job?”
Shit. “Well, you know, when I go home to visit family…things like that.”
The water must have been satisfactory because she reached for Emmy. He handed the baby over, pleased to be relieved of the responsibility. Her body was so tiny and frail beneath his fingers—like one wrong move and a rib would snap.
Rose lowered the now-giggling baby into the water. Sure, she’ll giggle for Mommy but not when I’m trying to impress Mommy. She smoothed water over Emmy’s bottom, gently at first, then more confidently as the water proved tepid enough.
He knelt beside her at the tub, conscious of the fact he slid nearer. He could barely control it, really; it fit, like the space had been designated for his presence beside her. Their elbows brushed. Garrett slipped his fingers in the water as though he intended to help.
“Sorry,” he whispered once their elbows had knocked a second time. The air in the bathroom shrank. Rose turned to Garrett, a knowing smile on her face.
“You didn’t have to come help, you know.”
****
Garrett’s warmth had finally penetrated her; and mere inches away from her, she couldn’t think of anything other than putting her lips on his skin somewhere.
Emmy splashed happily in the low water of the bathtub, examining the strange chain of the bath stopper, making fun work of the wash cloth against the shower wall. The girl’s giggles sounded as though they came from the next room—Garrett’s green eyes completely consumed her. She’d be unable to look away even if someone had come in that momen
t and told her they’d procured a snowplow helicopter for her escape.
Frightening things, really. Stuff that hadn’t appeared in such a long time, she’d have sworn their memory to be a myth.
He moved closer—or maybe she did—but before she could process anything, their lips were touching and a million different twists and leaps surged throughout her body. The sensory overload shocked her, made her think maybe she had waited too long since the last fling.
The kiss was hesitant but prolonged. When they parted, Garrett looked confused.
“I’m sorr—”
“For what?”
Garrett cleared his throat but didn’t break eye contact. “You probably don’t want some stranger trying to kiss you while you’re bathing your daughter.”
She grinned. The guy had a more sensitive heart than she did, something she’d stumbled on only a handful of times in her life. “What if I do want that?”
Realization crept slowly across his face. A dimple appeared.
She leaned forward again, and he responded, this time more confidently. As they kissed, she caught a whiff of his scent, something uniquely Garrett, the mixture of his workday with his skin and trademark generic hotel soaps. It sank deep into her, propelled her into a more passionate kiss. He reached up and cupped her neck; his fingertips on her skin sent pleasant jolts through her body, and ignited a telltale buzz between her legs that nearly crippled her with its intensity.
When they parted, her lips were tender and swollen from the kiss. Emmy gurgled and splashed harder beside them, shrieking with glee.
She wanted to say something but didn’t know what. Kiss me like that forever? Take me to the bed right now? Besides, her voice stuck to her throat, another startling side effect of this man that hadn’t occurred to her in nearly a millennium. It unsettled her she could be so comfortable simply sharing a gaze with him…with anybody.
“This is really cool,” he said.
She nodded, thinking that about summed it up.
A moment of silence passed. Rose could practically hear the suggestion inside rattling inside his head.
“Can we kiss again?” Her voice had made the leap in time.
He looked relieved and, without a word, pressed his lips to hers, his hand reappearing at the dip in her neck more forcefully, as though afraid she might disappear beneath his grip. They kissed sloppily this time, her tongue probing for his and then finding it. The contact sent an extra thrill of pleasure through her, and they kissed harder, deeper than any of the previous kisses.
They parted, their chests heaving. Emmy splashed again, and Rose looked down, remembering the task at hand.
“We better finish this.” Her own voice sounded foreign to her ears.
Garrett cleared his throat and reached for a bar of soap on the ledge. “Here, should I wash her butt?”
Propping Emmy up on her legs, she turned her so the baby’s butt stared at Garrett. “Be my guest.”
Garrett washed Emmy’s bottom hesitantly, glossing over rather than really washing the baby’s butt. He wore a look of vague discomfort the entire time. After a few ineffectual swipes, he set the soap down again. “All clean.”
Rose bit back a laugh and wiped Emmy’s butt one last time, making sure the girl was sparkling clean. Garrett tried to play it cool despite the fact he knew less about babies than she did.
“I think Emmy needs a snack.” Rose lifted Emmy out of the water. She’d noticed, in their short amount of time together, that the baby was happier when she ate more frequently. Five small meals a day. Good job, Emmy, I’ll make a weight lifter out of you yet. She hoisted her on her hip and looked down at Garrett, who looked lost in his thoughts.
“We have some fruit,” he said at last, coming to his feet. “I can bring some.”
She nodded, swallowing the urge to finger a wave of hair that had escaped from behind his ear.
They stood, watching each other, until Garrett ripped himself from the bathroom. Rose grabbed a towel and followed him, tossing the towel on the bed and laying Emmy on top. She made a game of drying off her legs and tummy. Emmy screeched with delight by the time Garrett showed up with a banana.
“You really know how to make her laugh.” He eased himself onto the bed.
“That’s a good sign. Babies who laugh are happy.” Rose made a face at Emmy, and the girl shrieked once more.
“Probably has something to do with their moms, too, though.”
A dark wave of anxiety rippled through her. You’re having fun putting in laminate flooring and making out with the owner of this hotel, and you haven’t even tried calling Emmy’s mom again. Get on it. Rose swallowed, forcing a smile.
“You’re probably right. Hey, would you mind watching her for a second? I want to run outside again and see if I can grab a signal this time.”
Garrett looked panicked, but he complied. “Sure…I can let her lie here, right?”
“Of course.” She grabbed her cell phone from the nightstand and pulled on her jacket. “You know that from all the baby-sitting you did, right?”
Rose grinned as Garrett’s face stiffened. Winking, she added, “I’ll be right back, I swear.”
****
Garrett watched as Rose flew out of the room, leaving the door wide open. Emmy had begun attempting to insert her foot into her mouth, or taste the bottom of her foot, which one he wasn’t sure—he was just happy the baby hadn’t resorted to pure shrieks the moment Rose left the room.
“You’re pretty cute.” He inched closer to Emmy. “You don’t look a lot like your mommy though. Maybe you got more of your dad’s genes and stuff.” He paused, watching as she continued to put her foot nearer to her mouth. “You know, in the test-tube business.”
Emmy gurgled and said, “Yep!”
Garrett sighed and assessed the hotel room from a new angle: where they could put Emmy in the event of a romantic interlude. This led to other thoughts about conversations he’d half-tuned out without realizing over the years, overheard from married acquaintances and former workers. Talk about parents and scheduling time for lovemaking and the constant struggle of bedtime. Some things began to make more sense to him.
Besides, what if Emmy saw what they were doing? Wouldn’t that traumatize her? He didn’t want to be responsible for eventual therapy simply because she had early childhood memories of her mom having sex with strangers. He shuddered. God, there were so many things to think about when raising kids.
Precisely why he didn’t want to do it.
Though there were so many ridiculous aspects to the very notion, he wondered what would happen if he fell in love with Rose and wanted to be with her.
Are you fucking nuts, Garrett? A day and a half with this woman and you’re thinking about what if you fell in love? Get a grip, man. Get a serious grip on your balls, because you are acting like a nut job.
But he couldn’t deny it. Rose affected him in strange and unsettling ways. He liked her way too much for thirty-six hours in. There were far too many things that remained to be discovered about her. All sorts of potential deal breakers to find out about.
Deal breakers were something of Garrett’s specialty. Meaning he could sniff them out in even the most promising of ladies.
He didn’t try to. It just happened that way. In his lengthy dating history, there had been about five girls to reach the “serious” marker, prompting his parents to whisper things about marriage and grandbabies into his ear, a conscious attempt at hypnotization.
But as the years wore on, Garrett found himself avoiding the waters as opposed to testing them. The deal breakers usually boiled down to one key thing, a tiny detail he hadn’t realized earlier in his youth. Something he’d perhaps overlooked willingly, in the effort to follow the societal groove.
Those ex-girlfriends of his hadn’t actually been compatible with him.
Most of them had coupled up with him expecting he’d put the business on the back burner once things were serious enough and children entered th
e horizon. Though he’d only reached the let’s-talk-about-marriage threshold twice, both times he’d been deceived, looking back from the precipice wondering what path he’d mistaken along the way. Turn his lifelong dream of real estate renovation into an occasional hobby? Produce spawn and raise them? Wasn’t what he’d signed up for.
And when he didn’t yield, things turned ugly. Deal-breaker central.
Besides, he was looking at a pretty big deal breaker right now. Emmy achieved placing her foot in her mouth and shrieked with happiness. Theoretically speaking, a woman who had a child might want another one. Resourceful women like Rose were hard to come by, and he applauded her for the test-tube route. Women who could bypass the resistant or absent partner to get what they really wanted.
He wouldn’t be donating his sperm anytime soon. He couldn’t fathom bringing more children into the world. It seemed absurd to him. Necessary, sure, for propagation and the advancement of society and what not. And this one rolling around on the bed was sure cute, would probably grow up to be a ninja under Rose’s tutelage. But as for his personal contribution to the world?
It might be better to sit this one out, and let those who really wanted the job to take it.
None of his ex-girlfriends had really been on board with that ideology, though.
Compatibility was key, a fact he’d learned way after the sinking-battleship relationships and dramatic break-ups. And compatibility wasn’t only having a good time on the weekends or sharing a passion for diving. Real compatibility was more nuanced. Not only nice, but necessary.
As far as he could see it, nobody was compatible with his lifestyle. The woman didn’t exist. So maybe his job was the partner he’d been told he should look for. Or worse yet—his brother.
Emmy rolled to her side for the next adventure. She scooted away on her hands and knees, until Garrett grabbed her from the edge of the bed.
“Miss Emmy, I’m afraid you can’t go that far.” He held her in his arms and stood up. She leaned forward, reaching for whatever had attracted her about the side of the bed. “While you’re in my care, I can’t have you getting injured or falling off beds.”
