Tempt Me: A First Class Romance Collection

by Jessica Hawkins

  11

  Ruby

  “It’s official. I’m my own worst enemy.” I flop on the couch in Drew’s office, scrubbing my fingers on my forehead.

  “I feel like we’ve been here before… Just a week ago, actually.” Drew is sitting behind her desk, typing her client notes into her computer. I’ve watched her do it a thousand times.

  This morning, I came straight to her office after I dropped Lillie off at preschool.

  As soon as Lillie was up, I had her dressed and out the door. We drove to the only McDonald’s in Oakville and had Egg McMuffins. Suck it, Eleanor. Then on the way out, I picked up two more ketchup packets so Lillie wouldn’t tell where we ate.

  The last thing I wanted was to bump into Remi after I attacked him last night. God, that kiss… My toes still curl at the memory of his mouth, his tongue… not just that, his arms around me, holding me so close, kissing my fingers. His voice when he sings. I had to go straight to the shower and turn the cold water on full force…

  “Now I’m bribing small children with ketchup packets.”

  “I can’t even begin to guess what that means.” My best friend flips her yellow legal pad closed and turns her attention to me. “Make it fast. Hunter will be here in fifteen minutes.”

  “Oh, screw Hunter and his Watergate stories!” I’m on my feet, still scrubbing my forehead. “I’ve got a real problem. One that doesn’t involve Richard Nixon or the Cubans.”

  Hunter is one of our shared clients—or I guess, was one of our shared clients. They’re all Drew’s now. He has a paranoid obsession with government surveillance.

  Her lips press into a knowing smirk and she nods. “You slept with Remi.”

  “Nooo!” I flop onto to my stomach, burying my face in my hands. “But I would have. I sure as hell wanted to. It’s only a matter of time before I do it, and then I’ve blown the whole deal.”

  Drew tosses her pen on the desk and leans back in her chair. “What happened?”

  “I kissed him.”

  “Oh.” I hear the squeak of her chair as she leans forward, and I carefully turn my head to meet her eyes. “That’s serious.”

  “It is, right?” Swinging my legs around, I’m on my feet and pacing. “Kissing is almost worse than sex… It’s like in Pretty Woman. Never kiss a client.”

  “It’s definitely more intimate. You’re all up close and personal, breathing each other’s air, noses touching, sliding your tongues together… sliding your bodies together.”

  “Drew!”

  She starts to laugh. “Was it a good kiss?”

  “Oh sweet mother…” I drop to sitting on the couch. “It was the greatest kiss of all time. I think I’m in love with him.”

  “You’ve known him three days. You are not in love with him.”

  “Have you ever seen him with his daughter? It’s the most adorable thing.” I wrap my arms around my waist and fall to the side. “I think he might be the perfect man.”

  “No one is perfect.” She’s using her therapist voice. “You’re idealizing him, and you know that means you’re setting yourself up for disillusionment.”

  “He sings.”

  Therapist-voice gone. “What does that mean?”

  “It means he’s a singer. He was an actual lead singer in a country band in college. And his voice…” Another shiver. “It’s like butter.”

  “Huh.” Drew tilts her head to the side. “I had no idea Remi could sing. That’s really neat.”

  “So now you’re thinking it might be an appropriate idealization?” I nod my head being very I told you so.

  “I’m thinking we’ll have to take him to karaoke next time they do it at the Red Cat.”

  “They do karaoke at the Red Cat?”

  “It’s something new they’re starting. Now that all the college kids are coming over from Charleston. Gray told me about it—apparently Billy told him.”

  “Oh shit, I suck.” I stand and walk over to her desk again. “I’ve been so knocked out by this tsunami named Remi, I haven’t even asked. How’s it going with Gray?”

  “You know, I’m going to let that slide.” She taps her pen on the notepad. “Because you’re right. Remi did sort of come out of nowhere.”

  “So Gray’s back… and things are good?”

  A smile curls her lips, and the light in her eyes makes my personal concerns take a momentary backseat. I love seeing my friend so happy—especially after all the shit she’s been through, how long she’s waited, and all the assholes who tried to destroy her happiness.

  “I can tell things are good.” I give her a wink. “You’re glowing.”

  Her lips press together, and she makes a sneaky face. “I am glowing, but not just because I’m so happy.”

  It takes me a second to catch up, but when I do. “Holy shit, you’re pregnant?” My voice is a shriek, and I’m on my feet jumping up and down. “You’re pregnant!”

  She starts to laugh, and she’s out of her chair hugging me. “I am.”

  “We’re going to have a shower and we’re going to pick out all these cute little baby clothes… What are you having?”

  “Don’t know yet. It’s super early, so don’t tell anyone.” She leans on her desk and her expression dims slightly. “They say in the first six weeks anything can happen.”

  I’m not hearing any of that. “The only thing that’s going to happen is we’re going to have a blast! I can’t wait… and let me know if you need help with anything. Lillie’s in school every morning, so I can run errands.” My lips twist and I nod. “It might actually be helpful not to be lurking around the house most mornings alone.”

  “Don’t you have things to do? He can’t be paying you all that money just to drive Lillie around.”

  “Everything’s pretty much Lillie-based. I feed her, change her clothes, help her clean up, do little activities with her, do her laundry…”

  “What a sweet gig!”

  “Which is why I cannot fuck it up.” Walking over to collect my things, I get an idea. “Maybe if I got my own place. I’ll be able to afford it… Hell, by next week.”

  She rearranges her notebook and pen getting ready for her next client. “Will he go for that plan? I thought he hired you to be there at night in case she needed you.”

  Chewing my lip, I toss my bag over my shoulder. “I guess I’ll have to ask.” I hear the noise of people in the lobby and blow her a kiss. “Thanks, bae. Take it easy and let me know everything that happens with the new baby. How far along are you?”

  “Five weeks.”

  “So next week we can tell everybody?” I’m excited.

  She waves, shaking her head and laughing.

  I say hello to Hunter on the way out, and he studies me with that always-serious expression.

  “You look really happy today.” His eyes move around my face, and I await some comparison to Martha Mitchell or Dorothy Hunt. “Perhaps you shouldn’t be a therapist.”

  Nodding, I pat his arm. “Or maybe I should be a different kind of therapist.”

  “There are five broad approaches to psychotherapy—”

  Drew steps to the door. “Hunter, your appointment has begun.”

  He tells me a quick goodbye and starts for her door. Dotty is the clinic receptionist. She shakes her head as Hunter leaves, and I give her a quick wave before heading to the door.

  “Let me know if she needs anything or starts looking tired.”

  “Something wrong?” She’s frowning, and I do a little zipper motion across my lips.

  “You’ll know soon.”

  “Miss you around here!”

  I don’t want to say Hunter’s right, and I don’t really miss talking to patients. Instead, I give her a squeeze, and I’m on my way to pick up Lillie.

  The rest of the week goes pretty much the same. I sneak out with Lillie before everyone’s up, we eat Egg McMuffins, and I get her extra ketchup packets.

  “Are eggs bad for me?” Lillie picks at the corner of the ch
eese slice on her perfectly round poached egg.

  “It’s more about how they treat the chickens.” Not that I’m one hundred percent sure the eggs on our breakfast sandwiches are real.

  It’s better than Taco Bell, I guess.

  “How do they treat the chickens?” Her little brow furrows, and I’m not about to get into the ethics of poultry farming with her.

  “Some people prefer getting eggs from chickens who run around farms. They’re called free-range chickens.”

  Her little eyebrows go up. “Like in Chicken Run? They all made a big airplane out of their cages and flew to a valley.”

  I’m not super familiar with that movie, but it sounds good to me. “Sure.”

  “I’d like to have a chicken.” She walks her fingers along the ketchup packet, back and forth, squishing the contents as she plays.

  First a puppy, now a chicken… It gives me an idea. “Why don’t we plant a little garden in the backyard? You could grow beets and Chinese cabbage and broccoli…”

  “I love broccoli!” She jumps out of her chair.

  “I heard.” Taking a napkin, I wipe a spot of grease off her cheek. We can’t keep doing this, I know. “When we have a harvest, we could eat our crops at dinner. Or lunch.”

  Speaking of dinner, even though I’ve lain pretty low, it hasn’t stopped Remi from giving me hot looks across the table. He’s given me space since that amazing kiss we shared… or I’ve been avoiding him like crazy. Every time he smiles, my skin tingles and my brain says, Oh, shit.

  Still, I can’t avoid him forever.

  She jumps out of her chair again. “Can we do it today?”

  “I don’t know if we can start today, but we can scout a good location after lunch. I’ll see what I can find at the garden center while you’re at school.”

  We collect our trash, and I walk her to the bin. I’m just buckling her in her booster seat in the back of my car, and she’s happily squeezing ketchup when she suddenly brightens.

  “I’ll tell Daddy I want a puppy!”

  That gives me another bright idea.

  12

  Remi

  Lillie appears at my door carrying a basket. “Ruby said we’re having a picnic!”

  She marches in like she’s on a mission, and I hop up and run to the door, looking out, all around. “Where is Ruby?”

  I swear, she’s been dodging me all week, and while I’m getting a lot of work done, it’s making me kind of sad.

  “She said she’s scouting out a good spot for our garden.”

  Today my daughter is wearing oversized black pants with large white polka dots, and a matching white shirt that has a nose and long whiskers. She’s adorable, and her personality shines through. I love it.

  “A garden? That sounds fun. What made you think of making a garden?”

  “Ruby said we can grow beets and broccoli and Chinese food.”

  “Is that so?” I start to laugh. “I didn’t know Chinese food grew in gardens.”

  She’s struggling with a blanket twice as big as she is, and I walk to where she’s setting up shop in the middle of my office. I take the quilt and spread it over the floor.

  “I like having a picnic with you. What’s in the basket?”

  My daughter sits on the quilt and takes out two plastic containers. “I helped make these.” She hands me a green tortilla wrap filled with what looks like tuna salad. “I’m supposed to tell you it’s organic tuna…” Her little face scrunches as if she’s trying to remember her lines. “E-C-A-B and a little salt and pepper.”

  I touch her nose. “You mean E-V-O-O?”

  Her eyes roll around and she drops her head backwards. “I said it was too hard to remember.”

  “You did a great job.” I inspect our very healthy lunch, complete with organic milk in glasses with plastic lids and metal straws. Organic, environmental… Ruby’s a fast learner. I don’t see anything Eleanor could complain about.

  Lillie dives in, taking a big bite of wrap. We also have small containers of cucumber slices, without the ranch dressing. I open the lid on her cup and slide the straw inside before handing it to her.

  “Ruby can’t drink milk.” My daughter takes a long swig. “She’s galactically int…” A worried expression crosses her face.

  I cover my mouth with a napkin and swallow my laugh. “Lactose intolerant.”

  She shakes her head. “That’s not what she said.”

  “Oh, it’s not?” I grin at how serious and grown up she’s acting.

  We’re sitting cross-legged across from each other, and the warmth in my chest as I watch my little girl happily nibbling a cucumber slice is undeniable. Ruby was right about one thing. My father did not stop what he was doing to have lunch with me ever. Although, seeing this little cherub with her golden curls arranged in two ponytails, maybe he would’ve stopped. Who could resist Lillie? …or Ruby for that matter.

  “How’d it go today at school?” I give her a playful frown. “No more eating dirt, I hope.”

  Her eyes remain fixed on her food, but she shakes her head. “I don’t want to get a worm in my tummy.”

  “Well, I don’t want you to get sick.” I’m not sure about the worm part.

  Her head cocks to the side, and her brow furrows. “If we plant our garden in the dirt and then we eat the broccoli, how come we don’t get worms that way?”

  “We wash it first.” The mechanics of drainage and modern waste disposal are way too complicated to get into over a picnic lunch with my four-year-old.

  She thinks a minute then nods slowly, seeming okay with that answer. We munch a few minutes longer, and I feel her watching me. I look over, and she’s giving me a cute little grin.

  “What?”

  “I have a very serious question to ask you, Daddy.” She finishes her last piece of wrap, and I grab a napkin to wipe her hands.

  “Okay…” I have no idea what’s coming.

  “I want to get a puppy.” She sits for a second, watching me with that smile firmly in place.

  “Is that so?” Looking around, I try to imagine what having a dog in the house would be like. I’m not entirely opposed to the idea. “Have you talked to Ruby about it?” Don’t know why that matters…

  “Ruby says I have to be very responsible to have a pet. She says I have to ask you.” My daughter crawls across the blanket and puts her hand on my leg. “Can I have a puppy, Daddy?”

  Round hazel eyes blink up at me, and I have to put down my food. It’s like an invisible fist punched me straight in the gut. How could I possibly say no to that face?

  “I… well, I don’t know, sweetie.” Shit. I can’t get a dog without talking to Ruby. Why am I thinking this way? Why does Ruby’s opinion matter so much to me? “We need to do a little research first. Be sure nobody’s allergic.”

  “Like Ruby can’t drink milk?”

  “Yes—just like that. Are you finished?” She nods, and I quickly pick up the plates, shoving everything into the basket. I’m ready to find her absentee nanny. “Carry your milk.”

  Lillie takes off ahead of me running as I jog down the stairs. Every day little things have changed around here. I’ve watched their paintings get more detailed until I assume they’re finished. I’ve searched for Ruby every morning to tell her how much I like them, and I’ve been beyond frustrated to find her gone without a word each time.

  When we find her on the patio, my stomach tightens, and a surge of desire rises in my chest. Maybe she was right to stay away? I wasn’t expecting to feel like this when I saw her again. I’m acutely aware of how long it’s been since I’ve touched a woman. Four years…

  “Ruby! Daddy said we have to talk to you about the puppy!”

  When she looks up, I swear, it’s almost too much. She’s wearing black pants and an oversized white shirt I assume doubles as a smock over her black tank. Her long hair is up in a ponytail, and she looks like fresh air and sunshine and everything good. I want to go to her, pull her into my arms, and d
evour those pretty pink lips again.

  Her cheeks flush when she sees me, but she squats in front of my daughter. “Why did he say that?”

  “He said you might be allergic!” Lillie is talking so loud, and I can tell she’s excited. I’m not sure we’re ready for a pet, but telling her no is going to be hard.

  “I’m not.” Ruby looks up at me as I walk to them. She quickly picks up one of my old button-up shirts and starts putting it on my daughter.

  “I told her we needed to do some research.” I see her fingers tremble slightly. Is she nervous? I want to cover those hands with mine and tell her she has no reason to be. I never want to hurt her.

  “Your daddy’s right, Lil. We need to do some research. Eleanor might be allergic.”

  “Aww!” Lillie mixes a whine with a little stomp, and I watch as Ruby fishes out a small pair of gardening gloves.

  Reaching out, I give my daughter’s little ponytail a gentle tug. “I never told you I love your cat suit.”

  Lillie’s smile is only half-hearted and she picks up a small trowel.

  Ruby speaks to her softly, giving her a little nudge. “What do you say?”

  My daughter’s reply is pouty. “Thank you.”

  “Lillie, don’t act like that. You have so many nice things.” Ruby starts, but I touch her arm.

  Her eyes meet mine, and I shake my head. “Are your paintings finished? I’ve been looking at them all week. I think you have real talent.”

  That distracts her, and she proceeds to tell me about brush strokes, showing me how to flick the brush to make it look like a leaf or a cloud. She’s clearly a beginner, but I see Ruby watching her and smiling proudly. It’s just another reason on my growing list of why I’m falling for this woman.

  As much as Eleanor spends her days worrying and fretting over what my daughter eats and wears, I’m trying to remember if I’ve ever seen her step back and simply observe Lillie doing things with as much pride as Ruby does.