by J. H. Croix
His rational side politely reminded him not to move too quickly for Stuart’s sake. Yet, he trusted Emma wouldn’t want things to happen too quickly either. Though she’d thrown herself into their kiss with an abandonment that took his breath away, it was clear she was a cautious person, almost a touch too much.
He took a quick look around the back yard before stepping inside. He’d bought this house only months after Helen’s death, needing a space that didn’t echo with reminders of her. It occurred to him that he didn’t think Helen had even visited Diamond Creek. He’d gone fishing here a number of times with Dave, and they’d talked of taking a day trip here with her, but it never happened. He loved the town and wanted some semblance of a fresh start for him and Stuart. The house was situated midway up the bluff that ran along the highway, which was flanked on the other side by the bay. The house faced Kachemak Bay with a wide-open view of the water and mountains across. Spruce and birch trees were scattered to one side and behind the house with a field to the other side. A stream ran through the field, which bloomed with lupine and fireweed each year. The house was a single story timber frame style, popular in Alaska. The living room had a cathedral ceiling and an entire wall of windows facing the bay. The kitchen sat to one side, the space melting into the living room, the only divider being a small island. There were three bedrooms, a bathroom and the laundry room off a hallway towards the back of the house. The master suite had its own office and bathroom. Of the other two rooms, one was Stuart’s bedroom and the other a combination guest room and playroom for Stuart. With it just being him and Stuart, the house often felt larger than necessary.
Walking inside, it occurred to him that the only woman that had set foot in the house since he’d bought it was his sister, Risa. At thirty, Risa was ten years younger than he was and much bossier than he’d ever imagined a little sister could be. Even when they were little, she’d bossed him around. After Helen died, she immediately offered to stay with him and Stuart for a little while to help however she could. Her assertiveness had helped keep him afloat in that fuzzy time when he’d been shocked and grieving. When he decided to move to Diamond Creek, Risa suggested the name for his flightseeing business and accompanied him to look at houses. She was solely responsible for furnishing and decorating the house. Among other things, she was a painter. Her eye for color and warmth made the house a welcome, cheerful haven. She’d chosen a soft, comfy sectional couch of a deep wine red fabric with a matching set of reading chairs. A simple round birch table served as the dining area just past where the kitchen blended into the living room. A few of Risa’s paintings hung on the walls, along with artfully placed items, including a beautiful piece of whale baleen and driftwood carvings. She’d created a reading and play corner for Stuart with a hand-painted bookshelf in bright, whimsical colors.
Looking around, Trey once again sent a thank you to Risa for making his house a home. Without her touch, Trey imagined the home would be spare and utilitarian. He quickly checked on the salmon that was marinating in a maple syrup and balsamic vinegar sauce. Nudging it with a fork, he turned the filets over.
“Hey Dad, can you come here?” Stuart asked, his voice drifting out from his room.
“Be right there,” he called. He pulled a bottle of wine out of the wine rack that was built into the kitchen island, set it on the counter and headed down the hall.
Glancing in Stuart’s bedroom door, he saw three t-shirts laid out on Stuart’s bed.
Stuart had just finished his bath, which he’d needed after a day of fishing. He wore a pair of jeans with an elastic waistband and already had socks on, which was a miracle since Stuart had an oppositional streak when it came to socks. He claimed they made his feet feel ‘tight’ and generally resisted wearing them at all costs, even when it was freezing cold outside. Wet spikes of hair stood on his head, and his eyes were serious.
“What’s up, Stu?” Trey asked.
Stuart waved his hand toward the shirts on his bed. “I have to pick the right shirt.”
Trey looked to the shirts, which were basically the same shirt in three different colors—red, blue, and purple.
“So we need to pick the color, is that it?”
Stuart nodded emphatically. “It has to be right for Emma. Which color do you think she likes best?” he asked, his question so earnest, Trey’s heart squeezed.
Trey had known for a while now that Stuart badly needed a mother figure, but it hurt to see how hard he was trying for Emma’s sake.
“I bet Emma will like whatever color you pick.”
“But it has to be right,” Stuart said, a thread of stubbornness in his words.
“Right?” Trey asked, recognizing this was important to Stuart on a level he hadn’t initially grasped.
“Uh huh. I want Emma to like you as much as you like her. And since we’re a package deal like Aunt Risa says, I have to pick the right color,” Stuart said, completely serious.
Trey stepped into the room and walked over to the bed. He carefully sat down in the only area that didn’t have a t-shirt draped on it. “Come here,” he said.
Stuart walked over and leaned against his leg. “What?”
Trey rubbed his hand up and down Stuart’s back, his shoulder blades like tiny wings under his palm. “I know you want Emma to like me. And you’re right that I like her,” he said, pausing to consider his words. He didn’t know if it was best to be open with Stuart about how he felt, but Stuart was so perceptive he knew Stuart already noticed that he liked Emma. “Stu, I know you want someone who can maybe be here for you the way Mom was. And no one will ever replace your Mom, but I bet it’d be nice for you to have somebody other than me cook dinner and lots more. I wish I could promise you I could make that happen. But it isn’t that easy. Emma’s a really nice lady, and maybe she and I will get to know each other better. But here’s the hard part, even grown ups don’t know how things will turn out. So while I can’t promise you that if you wear the right color, everything you want to happen will happen, I can promise you that I’ll be honest with you. And I know, I really know, Emma will like whatever color you wear. Actually, part of why I like her is I’m pretty sure we don’t need to worry about her liking us based on the colors we wear. You know?”
Stuart’s head was down and he stayed quiet for a moment. “I know. That’s why I like her so much. ‘Cause she’s nice. But how come it’s not that easy? The part you said.”
Trey realized Stuart was asking how come it wasn’t easy that if two people liked each other, they ended up together. Because he knew that’s what Stuart wanted—a woman who could somehow fill the hole that had been left when his mother died. It almost took his breath away how simple it sounded. In a way, Stuart was so right. If two people like each other, how come it wasn’t easy? Much as Trey wanted to assure him it would be, if there was one thing he knew to be true, it was that human beings were complex and each person was shaped by so many factors beyond their control that what should be simple often wasn’t.
“That’s a really good question I wish I could answer. All I can say is maybe it should be easy, but it often isn’t. For now though, how about you put on the purple shirt because purple is your favorite color? Then you can tell Emma all about why you love purple so much. She’s gonna be here soon, and unless you want to be half-dressed, you’d better get moving.”
Stuart lifted his head sharply. “Oh!” he exclaimed, racing to tug on his purple t-shirt. Trey gathered up the other shirts and folded them before returning them to the shelf in the closet.
He turned to find Stuart carefully tying his tennis shoes and sat on the bed to wait until he was ready. When Stuart was ready, they walked down the hall together. While Trey knew the second he saw Emma, the fire that never died around her would crackle and hiss, he also knew he had to be careful for Stuart’s sake and to remember whose heart was the most important.
Walking into the living room, Trey saw Emma’s truck turn into the driveway. Stuart
ran into the kitchen and whipped through the side door onto the deck. Trey followed at a much slower pace, trying and failing to keep his heart from pounding in anticipation. As he stepped through the door, Stuart was already by Emma’s truck and chattering away. He grabbed her hand and tugged her to the house. She gamely followed his lead.
She wore fitted jeans and cowboy boots with a gauzy purple blouse that hugged her curves and tied with a bow at the juncture of her breasts—those luscious breasts Trey just couldn’t get enough of earlier today. Her long dark hair was tied in a loose knot, wispy curls and bangs framing her face. As she followed Stuart up the steps, her blue eyes were bright, her lips and cheeks rosy. Forget Trey’s heart pounding, it would take most of his control to keep his cock from staying hard all night. This was a new problem. He’d never had to worry about being appropriate around Stuart. No one, not even Helen, had brought him this close to the edge. He figured Stuart would be the ideal chaperone. If anything could pour a bucket of cold water on desire, a six-year old could.
“Dad, Emma’s here,” Stuart announced once they were all on the deck.
“Really? I didn’t notice,” Trey replied with a smile.
Stuart nodded and giggled. Trey caught Emma’s eyes. “In case you didn’t notice, Stuart’s pretty excited you’re here. And if he hasn’t mentioned it, you happen to be wearing his favorite color,” he said with a smile.
Stuart clapped. “I told her purple’s my favorite!”
Emma chuckled. “He made sure I knew that right away. Nice to see you both again.” She held a bag in her free hand. “I’ve got all the salad fixings ready to go. I forgot to bring a salad bowl though. I like to wait until right before we eat to toss it together. The strawberries are better that way.”
Trey reached for the bag, taking a quick glance at Stuart who’d yet to let go of Emma’s other hand. “I’ll get that. We definitely have a few salad bowls, so don’t worry about that.” He was relieved to have something small to do to keep his mind off the fact that all he wanted to do was tug her close and kiss her until she was breathless again. Stuart rescued his sanity by insisting on giving Emma a tour, starting with his bedroom where Neon, the beloved goldfish, resided in a small rectangular fish tank elaborately decorated with various rocks and items.
Though Trey could barely keep his eyes off of Emma, dinner went off without a hitch. While Stuart gave Emma the house tour, Trey got busy grilling salmon. When Emma came in to assemble and toss the salad, there were a few moments where he had to work to keep his desire in check. Having her that close gave his body all kinds of ideas. It also made him realize how much he could get used to having her around. The mundane tasks of getting the table set and cleaning up in the kitchen with her made his heart clench. Though he’d surprised himself today by so readily accepting that what lay between them was worth giving a shot, the comfort he felt with her presence startled him.
Just after dinner, Stuart went onto the deck to call for Tootsie, his cat. Emma was putting dishes in the dishwasher. When she straightened from leaning over, the bow on her blouse caught on the dishwasher rack, immediately unraveling. Trey happened to be turning toward her, his eyes falling to the soft flesh exposed between her breasts. In a flash, the air between them became heavy. Trey forced his eyes up and they collided with her bright blue eyes. Her lips were parted, her gaze zeroed in on his. If it weren’t for the sound of Stuart earnestly calling Tootsie, Trey knew without a doubt he’d have dragged her to him and kissed her senseless and then some. He saw her chest rise and fall in rapid breaths, mirroring his own. He gave his head a quick shake. Emma’s eyes fell away. She looked down and quickly tied the bow on her blouse.
It was just enough to break the electric spell that flared between them. A few more moments of quietly cleaning up and Stuart returned to the kitchen holding Tootsie in his arms. Tootsie was a gorgeous orange striped cat. Risa had gotten him for Stuart shortly after Helen died. Though Tootsie, like most cats, was all but impossible to train, he’d slept with Stuart every night since they’d gotten him and usually came when Stuart called him.
Stuart walked into the living room, politely asking Emma to follow. Trey watched from the kitchen while he finished cleaning up. Emma was amazing with Stuart, which Trey would have guessed since she was a therapist. She was easy-going and patient, and Stuart soaked up her attention. He’d seated himself in the corner of the sectional with Tootsie on his lap. Tootsie was the ideal child’s cat as he tolerated being carted around and would happily drape himself on Stuart’s lap. A few minutes of Stuart showing Emma how Tootsie liked to be petted and his voice faded. Trey glanced over to see Stuart’s hand mid-stroke on Tootsie’s back and his chin on his chest. Emma caught his eyes and shrugged.
After drying his hands, Trey walked over, sitting down on the couch at an angle across from Emma and Stuart. “I wondered how long he’d manage to stay awake,” he said, looking down at his watch. “It’s close to his bedtime, but between fishing and then having you over, he’s about worn out.”
Emma glanced down at Stuart and smiled softly. “He’s such a good boy.”
Trey nodded. “That he is. I have to give his mom a lot of credit for that. She did most of the work when he was younger.”
Emma’s eyes sobered. “I’m sorry about your wife. That must have been hard.”
He paused to gauge his own reaction. In the first year after Helen had died, every time someone offered condolences, he would experience a stab of pain, the loss reverberating. That had gradually faded to a small twinge. The loss had woven itself into the fabric of his feelings. Time made a difference, if anything because it allowed him to adjust to her absence. He nodded. “It was. I didn’t expect it, no one did. She had an undiagnosed heart defect, a faulty valve. Once it happened, that was it.” He took a slow breath. “Afterward, I worried more about Stuart than myself. He’d just turned four. Helen had cut back on her hours after he was born while I worked too much. So she’s definitely the one who laid the groundwork for the good boy he is now.”
Emma nodded, her expression measured, but kind. “Well, Stuart seems to be doing okay, which I’m thinking is probably because of you.”
Trey nodded. “I’ve done what I could to make up for his mom being gone. His Aunt Risa, my sister, has helped a lot too. She stayed with us for a few months after Helen died. She was always close to Stuart, but she’s gone out of her way since then. She decorated the house, along with helping us with just about everything. She lives up in Anchorage, but she still comes down at least once a month if we don’t make it up there for a visit.”
“It’s nice to have family like that,” Emma replied. She started to say something else when Stuart shifted and Tootsie slid off his lap into the side of Emma’s leg.
Trey stood. “I’d better get him to bed. He’s out for the night once he falls asleep.” He leaned over and gathered Stuart into his arms, carrying him to his bedroom. Stuart was deep enough into his sleep that he didn’t budge when Trey changed him out of jeans into pajama bottoms. Tootsie silently leapt onto the bed beside Stuart once Trey tucked the blanket around him.
Returning to the living room, he found Emma standing by the front windows looking at the view. He walked to stand beside her. “Amazing, isn’t it? I never get tired of the view here.”
“It’s beautiful, and you’ve got a nice spot here.” She remained still for a moment and then moved toward the kitchen. “I should help you finish cleaning up.”
Trey sensed tension in her, but he elected to ignore it for now. Trailing her into the kitchen, he leaned his hips against the counter, bemused when she picked up a lone fork by the sink and transferred it to the dishwasher. “Not much left to do,” he said when she turned around.
She smiled and twisted a ring on her hand. She bit her bottom lip and glanced away from him. Trey pushed away from the counter and closed the distance between them. Part of him recognized he’d thrown caution to the wind when it came to Emma, but at th
e moment, he didn’t give a damn. He paused directly in front of her and reached for her hands. She stilled in his clasp, her hands warm in his. He stroked his thumb across the back of one of her hands, turning the other up and placing a kiss in the center of her palm.
At the sharp intake of her breath, his pulse kicked into gear. He lifted his head, his eyes meeting hers. The desire he’d kept on a low simmer all afternoon since they’d kissed roared to life, her mere presence oxygen to the fire between them. The moment their lips met, he was lost…again. Emma felt like a living flame in his arms. She opened to his kiss, her tongue dancing with his. She pressed her full-length against him, almost matching him in height in her boots. He cupped her bottom with one hand, holding her hips tight against his throbbing cock, while his other hand tangled in her hair. He licked, stroked, sucked, and nipped at her lips.
Trey’s entire body pulsed with the throb of desire, but he didn’t want to rush this. He scrambled for control, ruthlessly slowing their kiss and creating a pocket of space between them. He pulled back to look into the blue of her eyes. He’d never seen eyes quite like hers—the color of the sky on those days when the blue was a shade deeper. Untangling his fingers from her hair, he caressed her ear, relishing her responsive shiver. He traced her jawline, his lips leading the way down the side of her neck, pausing for a soft kiss over the pulse that beat in her throat. He trailed his fingers along her collarbone, finding his way to the silky bow that held together her blouse. Her blouse had been teasing him all evening, it’s gauzy fabric revealing shadowed glimpses of her curves. When he untied the bow, the fabric fell away, revealing the tops of her breasts. He leaned forward and rained kisses across the soft skin.
