by Vi Keeland
Do I want to sleep with Baldwin?
Drew
The next morning, I debated going over to Emerie’s place a half-dozen times before deciding I’d just make it worse if I showed up. I didn’t want her to think my apology was a cover because I didn’t want Putz driving her to work. Of course, I didn’t want the dickhead to drive her. But around two o’clock this morning, after beating up my pillow, I’d finally come to my senses.
My acting like a jerk had nothing to do with Emerie. Between a cheating ex-wife and my daily dose of clients who’d been burned or had burned their spouse, I wasn’t exactly the most trusting person. I still didn’t think I was wrong about Baldwin—the guy was a dickhead, and my gut told me something would eventually go down once he realized Emerie wasn’t waiting on the sidelines for him anymore. But that wasn’t on her either.
It was almost ten by the time she finally showed up at the office. Beck only had a half-day of school, so I was hoping she didn’t have a morning appointment she needed to jump right into. I’d been on high alert listening for her to come in, so she was barely inside when I got to the reception area.
And the dickhead was with her. His arm wrapped around her waist, he was attempting to assist her in walking. I could see from her face that the entire thing made her uncomfortable.
“Morning.”
“Good morning.” Emerie forced a pensive smile. “I told Baldwin he didn’t need to walk me inside. But he insisted.”
I managed to reply with a hint of sincerity. “You need help. Doctor said no weight on that ankle.”
Testing my resolve, I backed off and let him walk her all the way to her office as I returned to mine. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t eavesdrop though. He asked her what time he should pick her up, and Emerie said she had plans after work and would get a ride.
Once Putz was gone, I took a deep breath and walked into her office. She was setting up her laptop in the docking station.
“You have a patient now?”
“Nope.” She didn’t look up.
“So we can talk?”
She looked up at me. “Oh. You’re in the mood to talk now?”
I deserved that. “Maybe I should start off with an apology right away.”
Her face softened, but she folded her arms across her chest, trying to be a tougher sell. “That would be good.”
“I’m sorry about the way I acted last night.”
“You mean accusing me of wanting to screw another man after we’d already agreed we were going to be sleeping together exclusively?”
“Yes. That.”
Emerie sighed. “I’m not that type of person, Drew. Even if I wanted to sleep with someone else, I wouldn’t while I’d given someone a commitment.”
She’d just unintentionally hit my sore spot. I’d spent half the night and morning taking ownership of the fact that I had trust issues—those were easy to blame on other people. It was Alexa’s fault. My work has killed my faith in the human race. But when it came down to it, I liked this woman—maybe more than I should after such a short time—and it scared the crap out of me. She’d spent the last few years of her life waiting for some other guy to notice her, and I wasn’t sure what would happen when he finally did.
Sure, I was jealous. But I was also fucking scared. And I definitely didn’t like feeling that way.
I walked over to her, not so much because I felt like I needed to be close to say what I needed to say, but because I hated to be on the other side of the room when I could be near her.
It was especially chilly outside today, and her cheeks were pink, matching the tip of her nose. I cupped her cold face into my hands and leaned down and planted a soft kiss on her lips.
Then I pulled back so we were at eye level. “I’m sorry for being a jealous jerk. I’d planned to tell you why it wasn’t my fault I was jealous—that my history and job made me this way—and maybe that’s part of it. But it’s not all of it. To be honest, the truth didn’t hit me until a few minutes ago.”
“And what’s that?”
“I need to hear where your head is with that guy. You followed him halfway across the country a few months ago. I know you had strong feelings for him. And if you say you’d tell me if you wanted out of this exclusive thing, I believe you. But what I need to know is, if he told you today he had feelings for you, would you be telling me you wanted out?”
Emerie stilled, a flash of something flickering across her face before our eyes locked. “Why don’t you sit?”
Emerie
Practice what you preach.
That was a tall order when Drew Jagger stared at you, waiting for an answer. He wanted to know what would happen if the man I’d been crazy about for the last few years, the man I’d moved to New York to take a chance on, suddenly decided he wanted to be with me. It was a question I’d been asking myself since both men left me alone with my thoughts last night.
I owed it to Drew to be honest. Heck, I owed it to myself.
“I’ve had feelings for Baldwin for so long, I don’t remember what it feels like to not have them.”
Drew leaned on the edge of my desk, his legs spread in a stance that was so inherently male and dominant—something so simple, yet it reminded me that what I was about to say was true.
“But whatever I’ve felt for Baldwin is very different than whatever is going on between us.”
Drew’s eyes flashed, and I had to squeeze my thighs to stop myself from getting excited about him growing angry. There was no doubt that pissing each other off was some kind of screwed-up foreplay for us, but this wasn’t the time for that.
“Baldwin is smart and courteous. We share a passion for psychology and sociology. He doesn’t use foul language, he takes me to fancy restaurants, and he’s never once raised his voice to me.”
Drew was brooding. “There better be a fucking but coming soon.”
My lip twitched. I needed to get through the hard part before I gave him his but. “There is. But I want to be completely honest.”
The look in his eyes told me to get to the point. He nodded for me to continue.
“I’d be lying if I said I didn’t have feelings for Baldwin. But then there’s you. You confuse the hell out of me, and I have no idea where whatever is going on between us is going to land, but there’s one thing I’m sure of.”
“What’s that?”
“When I look at you, it makes me realize why it would have never worked out with him.”
His eyes softened. “I suck at trust.”
“I know.”
“I’m still gonna yell, and I use fuck as a noun, adjective, and verb.”
I smirked. “I’ve learned there are times when your language really works for me.”
Drew reached out and ran two fingers over my chin, down my neck, and along my collarbone before moving them into my cleavage. “Oh yeah?”
That was all it took. The deep rasp of his oh yeah and a simple touch. I couldn’t explain why I felt things for Drew any more than I could explain the taste of water. Yet somehow, he had become a necessity for me, and I was in no way ready to take on a drought.
I whispered, “Where’s Beck?”
Drew’s eyes followed his fingers as they dipped into my sweater. “School. Don’t have to pick him up for another hour.”
My body prickled at the thought of how we could spend that hour. “Any clients before then?”
He began to unbutton the small pearl buttons that ran down the front of my sweater. “Nope. You?”
I shook my head.
Whatever patience Drew had been practicing went out the window after that. In the next minute, he lifted me from my chair, tore off my panties, and propped me atop my desk, facing the chair with my skirt bunched up around my waist. All while being careful of my air-casted leg.
Then he sat in the chair, facing my exposed pussy, and loosened his tie.
“What are you doing?”
“Showing you I’m sorry. Spread wider.”
I opened my legs for him and shivered at the way he looked at me down there. When he licked his lips, pulled his chair closer, and tugged until my ass was at the edge of the desk, I was already halfway to orgasm, and he hadn’t even laid a finger on me yet.
“I might not like to eat at fancy restaurants, but you’ll always be fed, and I’ll eat you until you’re the one screaming obscenities.”
That totally worked for me.
Things were different after our talk this morning. There was an intimacy, a bond of some sort, that hadn’t been there before. Drew picked up Beck from school and brought back lunch for all of us before the two of them left for the library then ice skating again. I loved that Drew made his afternoons with his son part work and part play for both of them. Beck did story time on the children’s rug while Drew worked on a case in the adjoining room. When they were done, Beck read books to Drew, and then the reward was ice skating.
I had an afternoon full of patients, and even at almost six-thirty in the evening, I felt a renewed hopefulness that there was a solution for every couple’s problems. My optimism had spilled over into my sessions in a good way.
I was packing up my laptop when I heard the front door open and then little feet flying toward my office.
“We got all the stuff for movie night!” Beck yelled. His chubby cheeks were red from the cold, and he was bundled like a little snowman.
“Oh, really? What are you planning on watching?
Beck held up two fingers. “We got two movies. One is for dinner food and the other is for dessert.”
I didn’t quite understand what he meant, but his excitement was contagious. “That sounds great. Which movie will you watch first?”
Drew appeared behind his son. “He made me drop him off at the curb instead of going under to the parking garage so he could run in and tell you first.”
Beck smiled so wide, I could almost count his tiny little teeth. He held up a CD jewel case. “For dinner, we got Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs.” Then he pointed up to his dad, who held up a takeout bag.
“Mamma Theresa’s makes the best meatballs in the city.”
Beck nodded fast, then held up a second jewel case. “And for dessert we got Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs.”
Beck pointed up to his father. It was like they were doing a little skit.
Drew held up another bag. “Gooseberry pie from The French Pastry.”
I smiled. “What is gooseberry pie anyway?”
Drew shrugged. “Hell if I know. But we had to go to three bakeries to find it, and the thing cost twenty-six bucks, so it better taste good.”
Beck added, “I’m going to have mine with vanilla ice cream. That’s not part of your movie party though.”
“My movie party?”
“Dad said you liked movie theme parties. Can you come?”
Another little piece of the wall I’d built around my heart because I was afraid to fall for this man chipped off.
Drew watched me, assessing my reaction. I couldn’t have hidden it if I wanted to.
My hand went to my chest. “You are the sweetest. I can’t believe you made a movie theme night for me. I’d love to come.”
Anxious to get started, Beck took off yelling down the hall, “I’ll get the elevator.”
“Don’t get in it until I’m there,” Drew warned.
I finished packing up my stuff and went to the doorway. Pushing up on my tippy toes, I gave him a soft kiss on the lips. “Thank you.”
He winked. “You got it.”
Drew scooped me up—because I apparently wasn’t allowed to walk until this air cast was off—and walked toward the elevator.
Lowering his voice, he said, “Think I’m gonna like this dinner and a movie theme thing—finally put my porn collection to good use.”
Emerie
The rest of the week was just as amazing as movie night. Spending time at home with Drew and Beck showed me so much more about the man than I would have learned on dozens of dates. Come to think of it, that should be part of the dating ritual. On the second or third date, the man should have to bring a child, perhaps a niece or nephew if he doesn’t have children of his own, so you can see the relationship he has with them. It would cut to the bottom line better than six months of dating.
Whether we had breakfast or dinner together each day, Drew always managed to carve out time for all three of us together and for the two of them alone. It was starting to feel like my own little family. But in the back of my mind, I realized things wouldn’t always be this way. Alexa would be returning tomorrow, and I wasn’t sure what that would add. I was definitely curious about her.
This afternoon I would be watching Beck alone for a few hours while Drew had a deposition he couldn’t reschedule. He’d planned on asking one of the assistant teachers from Beck’s school who sometimes watched him, but I insisted I could handle it.
Drew had a stash of movies that we could watch upstairs in his apartment, and I’d bought some old-school Jiffy Pop popcorn to make on the stove. Babysitting would be a piece of cake.
Or so I thought.
Then I had to call Drew’s cell phone and interrupt his deposition ten minutes after it started. To tell him we needed to go to the hospital.
“I’m so sorry.” It was the millionth time I’d said it. We were in a small curtained room in the same ER we’d sat in for my twisted ankle not even one full week ago. Only this time, Beck was being treated.
“Things happen. It was an accident. Now he knows better than to touch the stove.”
“I should have known better.” Beck and I had made the Jiffy Pop together. He’d never seen popcorn made that way. His big chocolate eyes grew like saucers watching the silver foil inflate with each pop of the kernels. When the popping had slowed, and the foil looked about to burst, I’d slid the silvery pan from the heat onto a cool burner and poked a hole in the top to allow steam to escape. When Beck went to sift through the movie cabinet, I thought nothing of going to the bathroom. I was out of the room less than three minutes, thinking how nice the afternoon was as I washed my hands…when the screaming began.
The poor little guy had gone back to the stove and, unaware that part of the flat top burner was still hot since it was no longer orange, tried to hop up to watch the steam coming out of the top of the Jiffy Pop. He’d unknowingly placed his entire hand on the still-hot burner.
“His mother’s kitchen has gas. I should have explained that the top stays hot to him when I got the new stove a year ago. It’s not your fault. It’s mine.”
Beck shrugged. The boy was a trooper. “It doesn’t even really hurt that much anymore.”
The doctor said it was a simple first-degree burn and applied Silvadene lotion, then wrapped Beck’s hand with gauze on the inside and an ace bandage around the outside.
I put my hand on Beck’s knee. “I’m so sorry, honey. I should have told you it stayed hot even when the color changed.”
A little while later, a nurse came in and gave us dressing instructions, a tube of cream, and some gauze to use the next day so we didn’t have to get to the store right away. Even though everyone treated it like it was a common occurrence, I still felt like shit.
The first time Drew left me alone with his son, I’d broken him.
“I look like a boxer!” Beck announced on the way home from the hospital. “Dad, can you wrap my other hand? And maybe get this stuff in red?” He pointed to the ace bandage.
“Sure, buddy.”
The two of them were back to their normal selves, but I still felt horrible. Drew reached over and put his hand on my knee as he drove. “People are going to start looking at me funny with you two.”
I furrowed my brow.
“You’re in an air cast, and he’s got a hand wrapped.”
I covered my mouth. “Oh my God. Imagine—they look at you funny, when both injuries are completely my fault.”
Drew’s voice lowered. “Seriously, I see
you sitting there trying all sorts of guilt on for size. It was an accident. It could have been me making the popcorn, and the exact same thing would have happened.”
“But it didn’t.”
“Stop beating yourself up. Two months ago he had a black eye from running into the dresser while his mother was watching him. He’s a little boy. They do shit without thinking and get hurt.”
“Oh, no.”
“What?”
“I hadn’t even thought of his mother. She’s going to hate me.”
“Don’t worry about her. There wasn’t much of a shot of her liking you anyway.”
Great. Just great.
Emerie
“Who are you?”
It only took three words to know the woman who walked into the office the next morning was a bitch.
Skin-tight jeans, brown leather high-heel boots on long, thin legs, and a tiny little waist in a top that that showed skin even though it was the end of January and freezing in New York City. I didn’t want to look any higher. I wanted to go home and change into something less professional and more sexy. There was no doubt in my mind who she was.
Dreading it, I skimmed the rest of the way up and was met with a face as nice as the body. Of course.
“I’m Emerie Rose. And you are?”
“Alexa Jagger. Drew’s wife.”
Drew suddenly appeared next to me in the lobby. “Ex-wife.” His narrowed eyes matched his curt response.
Alexa rolled her eyes. “Whatever. We need to talk.”
“Make an appointment. I’m busy this morning.”
She completely ignored Drew and brushed past him, strutting her way to his office.
The two of us remained standing in the lobby for a moment.
I spoke softly. “Well, she’s lovely.”
Drew took a deep breath. “You might want to put earplugs in.”
