by Cara Dee
"We figured, might as well extend the trip and make it a vacation," Lincoln supplied.
I nodded. "Yeah. No. I… What you're saying is, you're taking the girls to Disneyland in Paris—halfway across the world, for…how long?"
"Three weeks," he said.
"That's…" I was speechless. "Why do you wanna kidnap my daughter for that long? I've never spent more than a couple days away from her." This wasn’t going to work. "What the fuck is wrong with Anaheim?" I exclaimed. "I can even swing Orlando, but fucking France?"
Ade knitted her brows. "We didn’t exactly pick schools based on proximity to Disney resorts."
"I don't see the big deal, Kid—"
I cut Lincoln off. "You freaked out last year when you went a week without Lyn, so fuck you and your big deal."
Ellis looked away to hide his amusement, and I glared at him, having all but forgotten he was still here.
He thought this was funny, huh?
"Jesus, with the melodrama," Ade sighed. "Listen to me, Casey. Think about Haley. Either she can leave her house, go on a fun vacation to Paris with us, then come home to a brand-new home, or…she can get shuffled around—leave the only home she knows, then stay here while you wait for the house to be ready, then move in to the new place and be surrounded by boxes and mayhem."
Pot, meet kettle. She was turning a move into some traumatic event. "I'll file one under spoiled and one under shit happens. Kids move all the time," I told her.
Lincoln rolled his eyes. "For fuck's sake. You know this is gonna go down. But tell you what, next year, you can take them for three weeks."
I'd rather not. They were a handful. That was why I liked these weekend sleepovers and such. A weekend was perfect. Long enough to unwind when I was without Haley, not long enough to lose my mind when I was the one who had the girls.
"How about we negotiate?" Adeline suggested. "I'm sure we can come to an understanding."
Well, I was fucked. A negotiation with her never turned out well for the other party.
Chapter 2
Where is he?
I checked my watch, then took a swig of my beer. Adrian was late, so there was little I could do but people watch. The restaurant's dining area was full, consisting mainly of couples on dates.
You lovey-dovey motherfuckers.
It was a nice place, but Adrian and I met up here for the wings and we stayed at the bar.
Okay, maybe that particular couple wasn’t too lovey-dovey. It was Ellis and his wife.
We exchanged a nod, and that was it.
"Dammit, I didn’t know I was gonna be this late." Adrian appeared from the minor crowd waiting for a table at the hostess's desk. "Did you order without me?"
"Yeah, the wings are more irresistible than you, sorry." The wings were late too, though.
Adrian chuckled and sat down on the stool next to mine. "I recommend eating them off of someone."
"Can we not go there?" I didn’t need to know about his spectacular love life. I got it, everyone was happy but me. Whoa, you bitter fuck. Tone it down. "I'm gonna make a very subtle change of subject. How's Thea?"
His daughter. Safe topic.
"Amazing." His eyes got that warm glow at the mention of her. It was sweet. "We're taking her to Disneyland in Paris. She's over the moon."
Oh, joy. I scratched my jaw and wondered where the hell my wings were. "Adeline told me. They wanna take Haley with them."
"Isn't that a good thing?" He turned to the bartender and ordered a beer and his own serving of those delectable wings.
I had dirty thoughts about licking the glaze off my fingers.
That was my love life in a nutshell.
"That's up for debate." I drained the last of my beer and ordered a second. "I agreed to allow her to go, but let the record show I'm reluctant about it."
Adeline and me…there was no contest. She won every fucking time.
"I'll tell a notary," he chuckled. "First time you'll be away from her?"
I nodded.
"Why don’t you come with us?" he wondered.
"I have work." It was summer in Camassia Cove. Our second busiest season. Only spring offered more jobs. That said, I wasn’t gonna be out much in August. I rented a warehouse lot for all equipment, and since it wasn’t just me anymore, I needed to keep crap more organized. While two of my guys were out working, Beth—my office manager—and I were gonna make room for an office and make plans for a better website.
*
"Before I forget—" Adrian committed a crime when he used a napkin to wipe the buffalo sauce off his fingers, but I let it slide because I was a good friend. "A coworker of mine asked for your number. I was uncomfortable handing out your digits, so he offered his instead." He handed me a slip of paper with a phone number.
"So it begins." I eyed the name above the number, recognizing it. Toby. Must've been from the Christmas party last year, in which case this guy really needed to contain his enthusiasm to meet me. For chrissakes, it'd only been seven months. "I can see it now. I'll be the old fucker who goes on blind dates with every friend of a friend he knows."
"For the love of—you're thirty, Casey. I won't dignify that with a response."
"…he said in response," I quipped. "Honestly, though. He waited seven months?" That was long enough to forget everything but traits that really stood out. Like a big forehead. I also recalled a nice ass, so life wasn’t over.
"He mentioned seeing you in the area."
"Whoop-de-doo, thanks." I pocketed the number. "You know, I really miss your dry comments on my blog posts. They've gone AWOL since you started making kissy faces with your man."
To be a jerk, Adrian puckered his lips at me.
"He's nicer than you," I told him.
He laughed. "Oh boy, you need to get laid."
I wasn’t going to argue that.
Our wings were long gone, and Adrian looked like he was ready to go get some. I did the nice thing and told him to get lost. Maybe I was too bitter for my own good, though that didn’t mean I wanted my friends to swim in my puddle of misery.
"You should come over for dinner soon." He stood up and put on his light windbreaker. Summer didn’t automatically mean heat in this state. "Bring Haley."
"It's a playdate," I replied with a nod. "Give your hottie an ass grab from me."
"I'll do no such thing."
Testy. I'd known him a few years, and he never struck me as possessive until lately. Lucky bastard.
Was there anything better than having a partner who just walked up and took you because they had to fucking have you?
Oh, someone was gonna blog tonight. I had some venting to do.
Another beer first, though.
Since it was just me again, I swiveled in my seat to face the dining area. People watching was more fun after a couple beers. A beautiful woman made eyes at me, and I gave her a faint smirk—until I peered around a plant that was in the way and noticed she wasn’t here alone. Seriously, woman? Greedy.
Taking a long swig of my beer, I glanced over at Ellis, surprised to find him alone. His wife's jacket and purse were gone, as was her plate. Had she left? Ellis looked irritated.
That made me wanna check in on him.
Down, boy. Heel. Stay put. Not your business.
I was a disobedient mutt. I took my beer and walked over to their table by the window.
"Are you okay?"
He looked up and quickly schooled his features. "Casey. Yes, sure—I'm fine." He managed a polite smile. Impressive, though he needed to work on the lying.
"Mind if I crash your party?" I wondered.
"Er…sure, if you want. Have a seat."
I wasn’t wanted. Didn’t take a genius to see through him, but if I could put a genuine smile on his face, I'd consider this night a success. "First dates, huh?" I sat down and stole a piece of bread from the basket.
"Indeed. I suppose they're not easier even if you know the person well." He gave up on his meal and wiped his
mouth with a napkin. "Were you here on a date, too?"
"Nah, just a buddy. We come here for the wings. They're seriously awesome."
"Noted." A trickle of mirth flashed by in his eyes.
Hardly what I'd call a genuine smile.
"Could be worse." I threw that out there to get a conversation started. "I'm guessing your wife didn’t ask if you've done time in prison."
"Ha. No, I guess not." He furrowed his brow. "People really ask that?"
I lifted a shoulder. "Someway, somehow, we end up there. I have a lot working against me."
Finally, I caught a sliver of curiosity. "Such as?"
"Well, there's the prison sentence. Women tend to go for guys they eventually wanna take home to their parents. Then there's Haley. Natural guy repellent, that one." I paused, thinking. "Oh, our family. There's nothing like complicating a person's life before appetizers are served when you're asked the simple question of what your parents do."
"Hmm. Fair enough. I assume that leads to your saying you don't speak to your parents."
"Something like that, and that’s just the beginning of follow-up questions most people don't understand—or care about on a first date."
Ellis saw a challenge there. "Humor me. Is it so difficult to explain our family dynamic? I think it's fairly accurate to refer to Lincoln and Adeline as your pseudo parents, despite the insignificant age difference between you and her. Jesse and Abel would be your brothers in that regard, no?"
I withheld my wince. "Given my history with Lincoln before he and Ade got together, I'm not sure it's wise to go there. Shit happens in prison."
So did blow jobs, and he'd been my cellmate. I'd been mildly terrified of Adeline's reaction, but I'd worried for nothing. She'd reacted playfully, once joking, "Shame I couldn’t watch."
To be fair, I'd never gotten that far into The Story of Us with someone I dated. Not many knew. I guess it was easier to discuss with Ellis because he was part of the family.
"You mean you and he…?" His eyebrows went up. "Ah." Next, he grew uncomfortable. See? It was a first date all over again.
This shit could not be covered without discomfort. Barely anyone in my family was related. Adeline adopted two brothers—Jesse and Abel—while Lincoln was locked away. Two brothers whose father had worked with Lincoln's band… It was a complicated story; that wasn’t even all of them, yet it was the sort of thing dates asked about. They had no clue they were walking straight into a minefield.
"I try to tone it down," I said. "I usually say my family's a band of misfits. If they ask further, that’s when they're screwed."
Ellis let out a chuckle and reached for his wine. "Band of misfits. I suppose that works. I, for one, am grateful for everyone."
Shit, so was I. It went beyond family—a few people's sexual history notwithstanding. We were all friends. Jesse and I were almost the same age, and we were close for a while. Now he lived in Los Angeles, though. Abel was gone for the most part, too. Professional hockey players didn’t see home often. He'd come home briefly this summer but was now at some training camp in Canada.
"Why don’t you come around more often, then?" I wondered.
I was granted a smile, except it was too dry for my tastes.
"I don't like to share my issues."
I scratched my neck, embarrassed. "Meanwhile, I blurt them out to anyone who's willing to listen. Oy. Point taken."
"That’s not what I meant at all, Casey," he told me. "To be perfectly honest, I envy Lincoln and Adeline. It can be tough to be around."
I could relate to that, and dammit, I was done talking about myself. Time to be straightforward. "Listen, princess. You can always hang out with me. Nothing to envy, and I tell decent jokes. The reason I sat down here now was to make you smile, so lemme get started."
He made a noise. "Did you just call me princess?"
Did I? Listen…princess. Yes. Yes, I did. "Maybe." But that was neither here nor there. "Now, focus. How does one go about making you smile?"
That halted him. He blanched, only to frown and empty his wineglass in one gulp. Then he adjusted his tie and looked out the window. "I don't think anyone has ever asked me that."
I didn’t know how to respond. Maybe my question wasn’t common? It didn’t seem like a very strange question, however. Before I tried to make someone smile, I had to know how.
"What if I forgot?" he pondered.
I sat back and watched him, his eyes meeting mine. Forgetting how to smile or what it was that gave you said smile would be a fucking shame. And I was talking about the smiles you felt everywhere, the ones that ran deeper. Not the polite, brief moments of shallow amusement. Anyone could pull that off.
"We should work on that," I told him.
"We?" He had one of those shallow moments right now. His mouth twisted up until the moment passed.
"Who's better suited for the job? I'm the class clown."
"Question is why." Now he was messing with me. "You know, this is Psychology 101. The class clown tends to have something to cover up."
Let's not go there.
I grinned, ignoring the sharp tug in my chest. "Did you learn that in marketing school?"
"Marketing school," he echoed with a chuckle. "I'll have you know I minored in psychology. You're quite useless in advertising without it."
I couldn’t imagine. I was horrible at selling. He did it for a living. Or…well, he had minions who did it. His ad agency moved in to a new building a couple years ago because the old one was too small. Now he had a whole minion factory.
Speaking of minions, I should probably pick up Haley soon. Keith, Lincoln's dad, requested an evening with her and Lyn because he had fish to gut and needed two tiny human slaves.
We'd ended up with daughters who loved anything that was yucky.
"Do you ever feel like you want to leave everything behind?"
Ellis's somber voice snapped me back to the present, and I leaned forward again, arms resting on the table. He didn’t look well—in that happy sense, so to speak. The man was gorgeous, but that went without saying. He was a Hayes. He was a very unhappy Hayes.
"Can't say I do." I struggled with what to say. "I need our misfits too much. I mean…I get tired, but—" I cut myself off before I could start rambling. It wasn’t about me. "Ellis, how can I help?"
He shook his head. "I appreciate the offer, but there's nothing you can do. I think I need to get away for a bit and clear my head."
Made sense. We all had our methods for that. "I hope it works. If I wasn’t such a people whore, maybe I would've enjoyed it, too."
"You have a very…colorful vocabulary."
I widened my eyes at his smirk. "I blame the internet. You learn the worst shit on there. It broke my halo."
That earned me another chuckle. "You could avoid it."
"God, no. My blog has an astounding twelve thousand followers, all of whom I suspect are as jaded as I am. It's also where I do my shopping, and my name on Facebook is pretty darn funny. The internet needs me."
"Jesus. Isn't your name on Facebook Casey?"
"No." There was nothing creative about that. "You should join. We can be BFFs."
"What is your name, then?" Was he getting frustrated with me? That was cute.
"It's complicated," I replied.
"What's so complicated about—"
"No, no. That's my name. It's complicated."
Ellis gave me a look that said my Facebook name suited me.
I smiled.
"You're certainly something." He stared at me until my smile broke his resolve to look all huffy. "What do you blog about?"
"Dating and parenthood, mostly. Sometimes, I take selfies and post food porn."
Very interesting stuff.
I wanted to talk more about him, though. During our very short non-date, he'd learned a lot about me because of my big mouth. I'd learned virtually nothing new about him.
"I'm adding elusive to the list of your traits," I informed him.
"Not counting your lengthy rambling about minoring in psychology, of course."
"Of course." He grinned faintly and gave me his umpteenth head shake. "I'm hardly elusive. Maybe there isn't much to know."
Why did I doubt that so fucking much?
Chapter 3
I'm a Talker
I talk when I'm nervous, when I'm happy, when I'm pissed, and a lot when I'm drunk. Therefore, I'm an open book. It's both good and bad. You know the saying, "If you don't ask, you won't know the answer," right? Right. Chances are, you'll know way before you even thought of asking. Sorry about that.
Growing up, my parents rarely talked. I wouldn’t say I was caught in the middle or anything, but I heard both sides because they had no issues talking to others. Mother would gossip to her friends, and my father would vent to his golf buddy as his only child trailed behind as the lucky, lucky caddy. More often than not, I wanted to scream at them. Just talk, dammit! Communication brings us closer.
Unfortunately, I may be overeager in my sharing sometimes. Re: dating. I keep thinking, if I put all cards on the table from the beginning, we might save time and move on quicker if we're not a good match. And I guess…in my haste, I sometimes forget to listen. I set the pace so fast to get past the obstacle that is The First Fucking Date.
Maybe I need to shut up and listen some more. Maybe someone will call me elusive and want more. Or…something-something witty, just bring us closer.
—Casey
"Daddy?"
I hummed, scrolling through the comments on my latest post. "Yeah, princess?"
"Ugh! I tolded you! It's prince now!"
Shit. I tucked away my phone and left the kitchen table. Haley and Lyn were turning my little kitchen into a war zone, but I had to hand it to them. They did it in style. As a "please don't forget me while you're in France" gift, I'd told the girls to pick out a Disney costume online that I'd buy for them. They went with matching Prince Eric costumes, which arrived today, just in time for a final hurrah with Daddy slash uncle.
"Apologies, Prince Haley." I bowed to show my respect. "May I inform Your Royal Highness that a bag of flour has exploded in your face?"
