“I’ll take it.”
“What?” she exclaims, sitting up quickly in her seat and losing her balance before righting herself.
“The house. Obviously, I’m going to have to do some upgrades, remove the cocks and all that.”
Snorting a laugh, she calms herself and takes a deep breath. “Do you mean it, Grant? You want to buy this house? We’ve only looked at a few; there’s no rush.” I hear her words, but I also see the excitement on her face.
“I’m sure.”
Jumping from her seat, she flings herself at me, sending us tilting backward and almost slamming into the side of the house. Wrapping my hands around her waist, I squeeze her tight and like in the car, it feels fantastic.
Chapter 13
Dakota
It’s hard to believe only a few hours ago I was overwhelmed by emotions and sobbing—and snotting—all over Grant’s shirt. Gone is the sadness and in its place is pure excitement. My first sale. I want to call everyone and tell them. My parents, my sister . . . Jeff. He would be so proud of me. I’m proud of me.
With a huge smile on my face, I continue chattering on about nothing, my adrenaline in hyperdrive. Grant has been sweet, not even attempting to interrupt me. Not that I’ve given him a chance, but still.
“I mean, I’ve tried and tried to make my own ice cream because that has to be better for us than store bought, right? Can’t do it. No matter how hard I try. But you know who can? Owen. So random but he is a masterful—”
The ringing of my phone through the speakers startles me and cuts off my rant about homemade ice cream. My dashboard screen lights up with “School” and my stomach drops.
“Sorry, I have—”
“Don’t apologize.”
“Hello?” I answer.
“Mrs. Jennings? It’s Cheryl at Lexington Elementary. We have a situation.”
Oh no. If she were ill, the school would simply say so. Right? A situation. Is that like NASA and “Houston we have a problem” or like that Jersey Shore guy? Surely it isn’t either—
“Mrs. Jennings?”
“Oh, sorry. Yes. What is it? Is Arizona ill?”
“No, she isn’t ill. Seems that Arizona decided to hold an impromptu seminar on the playground today. Mrs. Sullivan has handled the situation, but the school counselor would like to speak with you at pickup. Would you mind arriving a few minutes early?”
“A seminar?”
She’s six. What could she be teaching the other children? How best to sass their mom? The top three maneuvers to pick on your baby sister.
“Yes, well. It seems that Arizona was discussing death with the children and what happens when someone passes.”
Oh shit.
“I’ll be there thirty minutes before pickup. Thank you, Cheryl.”
Ending the call, I grip the wheel a little harder and exhale. Over the last few weeks, Arizona has begun asking about her father more and more. Not only about why she doesn’t have a daddy but what happened to hers. Is heaven real? What happens to a body when it dies?
I’ve done my best to explain it to her without going into detail. I was certain I had kept it simple enough for her age while still being truthful and helping her understand our family. Now I’m thinking I still did a piss-poor job. Doing this parent thing alone is hard work and I’m exhausted just thinking of the upcoming conversation not only with the school but also with Arizona.
Glancing at the clock, I realize I won’t have time to start Grant’s paperwork and make it to the school on time. While this sale will make all my sacrifices to study for my license worth it, I also don’t want my client to lose out on a perfect property. Well, except the cocks, of course.
“I’m sorry, Grant. I continue to one up myself on the unprofessionalism. I really am sorry.”
“There’s nothing to apologize for, Dakota. Family always comes first. I don’t mind you taking the call.”
“Oh. I didn’t even think of that. Crap. Sorry for that, too.” Scrunching my nose, I dare a glance his direction. A huge smile takes over his face. He’s teasing.
Rolling my eyes in response garners me a quiet chuckle. “Anyway, I was actually apologizing because I don’t think I’ll have time to get the paperwork started for the offer. I’ll need to drop you at the office and rush to get to the school. Normally, my sitter picks up Ari in the afternoons but since I need to meet with the school, I really should cancel her and handle this myself.”
“Of course. Just drop me at the office and we can connect tomorrow sometime.”
While that would make sense, I have this gut feeling we need to get a jump on his offer. Having Doug as the listing agent is a bonus but all I need is some rogue agent from another town swooping in and creating a bidding war.
“Actually . . . since I’ve been unprofessional all day, why not keep it up, right?”
Resolved to keep the theme going, I relax into my seat before continuing, “Would you hate it if I asked you to come to my house later this afternoon? Everything is done electronically anyway. I can do that from anywhere. I’ll need a few hours to do the mom thing but then we can sit down and submit that offer.”
“That’ll work.”
Relief washes over me as we approach the office. I pull the car into the fifteen-minute parking in front of the hair salon next door and put it in park. Grabbing my phone, I quickly tap out a text to Grant with my address, the chime of my text signaling from his pocket.
“Just me. You have my address now.”
“See you in a few hours. Good luck with the school.”
Before I can respond, he exits the car and closes the door. I sit for a minute, watching him walk away, peering into the salon and running his hand over the top of his head. Opening the door, he steps into Rock Your Locks. Smirking at the knowledge he’s essentially thrown himself into the lion’s den. Or in this case, maybe the cougar’s den.
Quickly tapping out a text message to Mrs. Larson that she has the afternoon off, I send a similar note to Doug that I have a mom emergency but that he should check his email around dinner time. I’m going to focus on that part of the day and let the rest go.
I sold a house.
Cranking up the tunes of one of my favorite dance songs, I start to move my hips and rock my shoulders as I sing along and make the short drive to the elementary school. As I open the front door to the building, I pause with my hand on the door handle and take in a deep breath.
One . . .
Two . . .
Breathe . . .
One . . .
Two . . .
Breathe . . .
I can do this. I’m a strong independent woman raising two smart, kind, and loving little ladies. One who is probably at daycare eating glue and the other who is giving speeches on mortality.
You can’t win them all, I suppose.
It doesn’t matter how long I stand and stare at the freezer, nothing changes. There is absolutely nothing to make for dinner. I could surprise the girls with breakfast night but I’m down to a single egg and the pancake batter has a “best by” date with last year on the label. I wish I enjoyed grocery shopping even just a little.
What I really want are tacos. Delicious street tacos with a side of green salsa. Just thinking of the option has my mouth watering. I wonder if Rosa’s has added delivery to their menu since yesterday. Doubtful. My phone chimes, reminding me of Grant’s impending arrival. Looking down at my clothes, I wonder if I should change back into my jeans and sweater. When we walked in the door this afternoon, I couldn’t get leggings and a T-shirt on fast enough. I practically stripped walking through the house, leaving my clothes in a trail behind me.
Padding my way from the kitchen to the living room, I quietly peer around the corner and catch the girls in a moment of utter sibling love. Cali’s large building blocks are strewn all over the floor while Ari tells her the colors of each block as she builds what looks like a fortress.
The doorbell chimes, startling not only the littl
e engineers but also me. I yelp and jump, my heart racing a million miles faster than it was seconds ago.
“Mama! Someone is at the door!”
“Thank you, Arizona. I’m right here. Please don’t shout.”
Opening the door while still speaking, I’m not greeted by Grant as I expected but, instead, a large bouquet of flowers. They’re beautiful. Massive and their fragrance almost overpowering. The flowers lower enough that I see the top of Grant’s head, or more accurately, his newly trimmed hair.
“Wow, those are amazing. They must be heavy here, let me help—”
Taking the vase from his hands, I struggle to balance it and turn to place it on the table near the front door. I spin to thank Grant and bark out a laugh.
“Umm . . . you have some . . .” I manage between giggles as I reach up and pluck a few pieces of the arrangement from his hair and beard.
“These are beautiful. You didn’t—”
Sneezing, he scrunches his nose and manages, “I didn’t. They were on the porch when I got here. Speaking of,” he says before leaning back out to the porch and bending over to pick something up from the ground.
“I know it’s probably too early for dinner, but I haven’t eaten since this morning and thought maybe some tacos would be okay?”
Okay? He has no way of knowing that bag of goodness is more my speed than this flower arrangement.
“Tacos are mommy’s favorite,” a little voice says from behind me. I turn to look at Ari, who is tentatively stepping into the space while Cali barrels in and slams into my legs.
“You read my mind. I was thinking about grabbing Rosa’s for dinner. Want to head into the kitchen? I’ll look and see if there’s a card.”
Grant walks away, Cali hot on his heels, her little bare feet slapping on the hardwood. A small card sits nestled between a lily and a rose. Plucking it from its perch, I open the envelope and read the card. Or don’t read the card. The only thing written on it is “XO.”
That’s random. Probably my sister trying to be sweet since she flipped out on me earlier about a wedding theme.
“Come on, chickadee. Let’s go see what kind of mess your sister is making.”
Ari follows behind me as we approach the kitchen where Grant is standing on one side of the breakfast bar while Cali has climbed up on her stool, her little head barely above the surface jabbering away in her toddler speak. He looks horrified and completely lost in the conversation he’s found himself in.
Chapter 14
Grant
The last two hours have felt like some sort of out of body experience. From the moment I stopped to pick up a bag of tacos to this moment, sitting on the couch while a just-out-of-the-bath little girl in footie pajamas giggles and tugs on my beard, I’ve been on auto pilot. I’m not a spontaneous guy. I don’t make rash decisions and I never assume anything for another person. Yet, today I was all of those things.
I comforted a woman I barely know without a second thought. My imagination took off at the possibilities of what could be as she accepted the solace I offered. For goodness sake, I bought a house. Well, I’m going to try and buy a house. More house than I ever thought I’d own, but nevertheless, a place I feel in my gut is where I’m supposed to be.
Now, hours after arriving with dinner, I’m still at Dakota’s house letting her youngest tug on my beard because her laughs are unfiltered and there is absolutely no way anyone could deprive her of that joy. The time here hasn’t been without the business being handled. Dakota quadruple checked every piece of the submitted offer. Well, after she recovered when I told her I would pay cash for the property and wanted a quick escrow.
“Cali, leave Grant alone,” Dakota huffs as she enters the living room.
“No,” her mini me retorts, and I can’t help but laugh.
Catching her raised brow at my response, I swallow down the reaction and poke the little one on the nose.
“Cali, you don’t want to get in trouble, do you? Your mama said to stop.”
With a pouty lip, the tot sits back on her haunches and assesses the situation. You can almost see the thoughts running through her mind, contemplating how serious the adults in the room are. As you’d expect from a toddler, her thought process is quick, and she seems to give up on the beard tugging.
“Okay little one, bedtime. Grant, I’ll be back in a minute and we’ll see if Doug has responded.”
Holding her hand out for Cali, Dakota gasps when, without warning, the little girl leaps toward me, her arms wrapping around my neck. Holy shit. This little girl is like a mini Hulk Hogan with this headlock. Don’t show fear. Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do with kids? Or is that animals? Either way, I awkwardly pat her back before she pulls back, eyes wide and smiles before scurrying off the couch and running down the hall.
Staring at me, mouth agape, a blush creeps up Dakota’s neck and I smile before saying, “I think you’re being summoned, Mom.”
“Shit. Okay, I’ll be right back.”
Rushing from the room like the floor is made of hot coals, Dakota heads toward the shouting children and I settle into my seat, resting my head on the back of the couch. Listening as each little voice says their goodnights, I realize I’m smiling. Not because there is an ounce of humor in this moment but because it’s the sound of a family.
“Sorry about that. I should have at least eight minutes before Ari is up for a drink of water.”
“She’s that predictable?”
Shrugging, Dakota plops down on the opposite end of the couch, feet tucked beneath her legs and her laptop nestled on the cushion between us. “She has a cup on her nightstand, but it will be her excuse so she can see what you’re doing. We rarely have company other than family, so both of my girls are a little more than curious. Of course, as you can tell, they have very different ways of expressing their curiosities.”
Tapping on the keys, she sighs while closing the lid of the computer.
“That’s a mighty loud sigh,” I comment, taking the laptop from her grip and setting it on the coffee table. Something moves in the corner of the room and without moving my head, I glance in the direction and see a little spy.
Placing my hand on top of Dakota’s to get her attention, her reaction isn’t lost on me. A short intake of breath, mouth slightly open, and eyes blinking rapidly as she looks up at me, I don’t bother hiding the cocky smirk but slightly nod my head toward her little girl.
It takes her a few beats, but she realizes what I’m doing and turns her head.
“Looks more like three minutes not eight.”
“Arizona, what are you doing out of bed?”
“I was thirsty.”
Turning to me with a quirked brow Dakota rolls her eyes before rising and hustling the little girl from the room. I need to ask her about her choice in names. Surely it can’t be a coincidence that she’s named her children after characters from a television show.
Her phone vibrates in quick successions from where it sits on the table. Someone has a lot to say or it’s ringing. When it vibrates three more times and Dakota hasn’t returned, I grab the phone and go in search of her. The house that was bustling with giggles and kisses has now fallen silent. As I creep through the dark hallway that is only lit by two nightlights, I pause when the door at the end of the hall opens. I try to make my presence known but before I can, Dakota lets out a squeak. I can barely make out her silhouette as her hand slaps her chest.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to frighten you,” I whisper.
Smacking my arm, she snorts a laugh as I yelp at the unexpected contact.
“Ouch. Dang, you’ve got quite the smack there. Here, someone is trying to reach you and I wasn’t sure if it was an emergency. Now I’m going to find ice for my arm,” I tease as I rub the spot she smacked. It really did sting.
Dakota follows behind me; a few frustrated huffs confirm whoever was calling wasn’t Doug. Once we’re clear of the sleeping little ones, she says, “Oh, don’t be a big baby
. You scared the crap out of me. I’m glad I just used the restroom, or I would’ve had an accident.”
I don’t bother replying as I resume my spot on the couch, my arm strewn along the back. When she settles in next to me, I take a moment to appreciate her beauty. Her hair is now pulled back in a small little ponytail and her face is free of makeup. She looks much younger than . . . wait, I have no idea how old she is. For all I know, she’s a twenty-something. Cringing at the thought that I’ve been flirting with what would amount to a child I clear my throat before speaking.
“How old are you?”
“Excuse me?”
Okay, so maybe that wasn’t the most articulate way of speaking.
“Tell me you are over thirty.”
“Why would I do that?” Her face is devoid of any expression and I have no idea if I’ve pissed her off, offended her, or if she’s teasing.
“You should play poker. I have no idea if you’re pissed or teasing me.”
Smiling, she pokes my arm and winks.
“I take it that wasn’t Doug calling?”
“No. He did text and say he couldn’t reach his clients. I probably won’t hear back until tomorrow. I’m sorry you’ve been here for no reason.”
“As strange as it may sound. I had fun tonight. Your girls are great.”
She relishes in my compliment, a huge smile taking over her face and a slight blush creeping up her neck. This is a new smile. One I have a feeling Dakota doesn’t let out often. It’s beautiful. Not that the rest of her smiles aren’t, but this one is pure and unfiltered. She’s breathtaking.
Looking into her eyes, I note as her pupils dilate, her blinking slows. A feeling I haven’t had in longer than I’d care to admit crashes down on me. Attraction, lust, and a need to know what she feels like in my arms. Flashes of holding her earlier as she cried play like a broken movie in my mind. Tugging her lip between her teeth, she begins to twist her phone back and forth between her hands. A nervous tick. Surprisingly, she doesn’t divert her gaze.
Reaching to take the phone from her hands, it vibrates again, and my hand pauses midway. The action breaks our connection as she looks at the screen and frowns.
Cherish Her Page 8
