by Box Set
“Like you mate him happy?”
“Kind of like that.” I stopped. “Maybe you should finish this conversation with Daddy. He will probably have more answers than me, okay?”
She frowned again, but she nodded in agreement anyway. Thank god—that was rapidly approaching a line of questioning I had no answers for.
If I didn’t stop, I knew she’d connect things. And the very last thing I wanted to do was to break her heart.
Because I wasn’t even sure if I’d accepted how I felt about Brantley yet.
“Man, that escalated quickly,” Jayda said when I was done explaining everything that had happened. She tore off a piece of naan bread and tilted her head to the side. “Did she ask Brantley anything?”
I shrugged, dipping my own bit of naan into the sauce on my plate. “I don’t know. She hung around until we’d finished building, then disappeared. I put up a couple of shelves and left quickly.”
“Wasn’t it awkward?”
“I don’t think he heard, honestly. When I was done, he was on a work call, so I just motioned that I had to leave and came here.” I nibbled on the bread, then put it down and reached for my wine. “It’s all…Shit, I don’t know, Jay.”
“It’s all fucked up,” she finished for me.
“Basically.” I sighed and leaned back on the sofa.
She cradled her wine glass against her, nestling herself into the corner. “Are you only feeling like this because you see him literally every day, though? Like, when you’re done next week, how often are you going to see him?”
That was a good point.
“And is he even someone you’d consider dating if you hadn’t met him like this? No. Because of the kid thing. And the only reason you’re in this situation is because you know and like his kids.”
“You’re the one who told me to screw him, remember?”
“Yes,” she said slowly. “But I didn’t know you had feelings for him.”
“Neither did I until he fucked me seven ways to Sunday.”
She snorted. “Funny how that happens.” She rested her glass on her thigh. “I mean, think about this, Kali. If you acted seriously on the way you’re feeling right now, literally everything in your life will change. You wouldn’t be stepping in to babysit because he’s desperate. The kids would become your responsibility. Are you ready for that?”
“You assume I’m going to tell him that I have feelings for him.”
“Well, that’s the first thing you need to decide.”
“I love it when you state the obvious,” I said dryly. “I don’t even know how I feel. Are you right? Maybe. Maybe it’s just because I see him every single day right now. I don’t know.” I leaned my head against the sofa. “I need to figure it out.”
Jayda nodded, almost grimacing as she did. “And you need to do it quick. Is it just attraction, or are you falling for him?”
“Thanks, Dr. Phil.”
“You’re welcome.” She grinned. “One thing you could do is go on a date and see how you feel about it then.”
I winced. “I haven’t checked the app for days.”
She raised her eyebrows.
“I haven’t had a chance!”
“Because you’ve been getting drilled against a wall?”
I sighed. “Shut up.”
Chapter 24
I swept the pencil across the wall, using my phone as a reference for what the Superman logo looked like. I’d spent the last hour drilling and putting up shelves in Eli’s room. The floor was coated in dust from the drilling, but I couldn’t be bothered to clean it up just yet.
I used my spirit level to make sure the lines were straight for the outside of the logo. The gold writing on the pencil read ‘Don’t be a twat,’ and kept catching my attention as it glinted in the light.
Nobody really needed twenty pencils that read ‘Don’t be a twat,’ but I had them, thanks to my mom.
It was a good motto to live by, to be honest.
The silence of the house was welcome as I sketched onto the wall. The logo was simple, but the straight lines were killers. Still, I got it done after about half an hour of drawing, and moved to paint.
I didn’t get to do this often, and it was nice. Nice to break away from the noise and occasional tediousness of my job.
I loved what I did, but there was only so many times you could do something before you got tired of it. I felt that way about painting in general, so doing the Superman logo was fun.
I’d just finished the red when the front door opened and then shut again. The twins were at daycare, and since I’d skipped out last night to go to Jayda’s, this would be the first time we were alone since…well, yeah.
I kinda hoped he wouldn’t come up and talk to me, but I knew him better than that.
No sooner had I thought that than I heard him on the stairs.
I bent down and dipped my brush into the yellow paint.
“Hey,” he said from the hallway. “You’re not holding a knife today, are you?”
“Ha. You’re funny,” I replied, getting excess paint off the brush. “Just a paintbrush today.”
“Am I interrupting a private concert?”
“I’m never going to live any of this down, am I?”
Brantley finally stepped into the room with a wolfish grin on his face. “No,” he said. “Not even close.”
I sighed and started painting again. “So unfair.”
“How is your finger today?”
“Painful, but it stopped bleeding. Just a normal Band-Aid today.” I wiggled my fingers in his direction.
He nodded slowly. “Good.”
I got more paint on my brush and carried on. Neither of us said anything for a moment, and the silence was both comfortable and awkward. How that was possible I didn’t know, but I did know that I didn’t mind being around him in silence.
“Do you want to get lunch today?”
I froze. “Just lunch, or…like a date, lunch?”
He quirked an eyebrow. “Does it matter? Lunch is lunch.”
“In a restaurant?”
“The Coastal? Sure.”
“We’d be more likely to keep our clothes on.” Welp. I didn’t mean to say that out loud.
Brantley considered this. “I can order in.”
I waved my hand at him. “Stop that. I’m working, and I’m determined to get finished on time so they can have their rooms in a few days.”
He glanced around. “Are you really almost done?”
I nodded. “I just have to build the rest of the furniture, mostly. Oh, and put up the curtain poles.”
“Wow.” He cast his gaze over the room. “That’ll be weird when you’re done. I’m used to having you here.”
I smiled. “You’ll like it even more when I’m not.”
He didn’t respond, just inclined his head slightly in my direction. “So, lunch? Here or out?”
I twisted my mouth to the side. “Whenever. I planned to stop in an hour.”
“Do you have time limit for lunch?”
“Not really. I’ll just stay a bit later.”
He bobbed his head. “Let’s go out. I’ll call the Coastal and see if Marcie can save us a table.”
“Sounds good.” I smiled, and he returned it right before he turned and left.
My brush hovered over the wall.
Was it a date?
Damn it.
The roar of the restaurant was loud. Apparently, there was some competition down on Rock Bay beach and the Coastal had picked up all the people who’d turned out for it. Every table was full, and I was definitely glad that Brantley had called ahead. We’d been able to walk right in and go to our table, passing the people in the front foyer who were waiting for one themselves.
Marcie eyed with me raised eyebrows, a look that told me she wanted to know everything as soon as she possibly could. She put our coffees down and, with one last glance, excused herself to another table.
Brantley’s lips twiste
d in amusement. “She’s not very subtle, is she?”
I grimaced. “About as subtle as a nuclear bomb.”
He laughed quietly, opening the sugar packets she’d brought and pouring a couple into his coffee. “How much do you want to bet she’s going to call your mom and tell her we’re both here together?”
“Fifty says she’s already on the phone.” I snorted. “Whatever. People are already talking. It doesn’t matter.”
“It really bothers you, doesn’t it? The gossiping.”
“It doesn’t bother you?” I questioned, then shrugged. “I wouldn’t say it bothers me. I’m used to it. I do wish people could keep their nose out of my business, though.”
“I guess I’m still at the stage where I’m charmed by this small town and all its little idiocies.”
“Little idiocies.” I laughed, finally pulling my mug toward me. “That’s one way to describe it.”
“Well, they are. They’re kind of charming, in a really weird way. The gossip is…unusual, to me. I’m not used to everyone knowing everything.”
“Yeah, well, you started that with us when you told everyone I’d stayed late or whatever it was you said.”
He frowned for a moment. I watched as realization dawned, and he laughed hard. “Oh, god. I never told you.”
“Never told me what?” I narrowed my eyes.
Brantley scratched the back of his neck. “I never said that. It was a joke. I was fucking with you.”
I leaned over the table and smacked his arm. “Oh my god. All that stress, and for what? You ass!”
“I’m sorry.” He didn’t look sorry at all. “I forgot I never said.”
“Yeah, sure. Whatever.”
This time, his laughter was silent. “Well, there you go. Now, you know.” He sipped his coffee, eyes shining with mirth. “I did actually want to talk to you about something.”
“I should have known there was a catch with this lunch thing,” I said. “Does that mean it’s not a date?”
“It’s a half-date,” he replied.
“I think I can deal with that. What did you want to talk about?”
He paused.
And I knew. I knew exactly what he was about to say.
“You heard my conversation with Ellie, didn’t you?” I beat him to it.
He nodded. “I was coming up to check she wasn’t being a pain in your ass. I don’t think I heard it all, but I heard enough.”
I swallowed. God—what if he thought I’d overstepped my bounds? Had I overstepped? Should I have just not had that conversation with her at all?
“I’m sorry,” I started. “If I shouldn’t have talked about it with her, but I didn’t know what to say.”
His brows twitched into a frown. “What? No—it’s not that all. I wanted to, first, thank you for how you handled it. I could tell she came at you from left field with her questions.”
I blew out a long breath and slumped back a little in my seat. “Honestly, yeah. And I knew what she was fishing for, but…” I trailed off, looking away.
“But that’s not what you want,” he finished for me.
Not coldly, not sadly, not anything. Just a statement.
One that was true.
Or one that was.
Was…
Maybe.
I picked at my napkin. “I don’t know how to respond to that,” I admitted quietly. “I don’t know, Brant. That would have been true even a week ago, but I don’t know how I feel right now.”
He raised his eyebrows, surprise glinting in his turquoise gaze. “That wasn’t what I was expecting you to say.”
“Well, I…” I sighed. What the hell could I say? How could I explain feelings I didn’t understand? “I don’t know what to say to you.”
He rested his forearms on the table and leaned forward. “You don’t have to say anything to me. You don’t owe me any kind of explanation, no matter how much I want one for that vague-ass answer.”
I half-smiled. “There are a lot of things in my head right now. I’m basically arguing with myself a whole lot.”
“Careful. I don’t want you to think too hard and hurt yourself.”
I stared at him flatly.
He grinned at me. A real boyish grin that sent butterflies through my stomach. “I still just want to say thank you for the way you handled her. She notices a lot, and…it’s not always a good thing. For the record, you already know that what she said is true.”
A lump formed in my throat. “I know.”
He took a deep breath. “And I like you, Kali. I like you a lot.”
My heart skipped.
“I know it’s hard and it’s complicated, but I wanted to make that clear to you.” He paused, then scratched at his jaw. “The last thing I expected when I moved here was to find someone like you.”
His words curled and curved through my body, grabbing hold of me.
The last thing I expected when I knocked on your door was to find someone like you.
That was what I wanted to say. But, the words wouldn’t come.
I was saved from an immediate reply by the arrival of our food. After a quick check on whether we had everything, we were left to ourselves and I finally grew a pair and asked the question about something I hadn’t realized was even bothering me until now.
“Can I ask you something?” I met his eyes.
“Anything.”
I licked my lips. “Am I…” Deep breath. “Am I the first? Since she died?”
He stared at me for a moment, then nodded his head. Just once. “I’m a father before anything else. I wasn’t looking to meet anyone when I met you.”
I swallowed. “I get that. I was just wondering.”
He smiled wryly. “Well, I’m so glad we got to have a nice, light conversation over lunch.”
I stared at him for a moment, my lips twitching, then started to laugh. “You’re the one who wanted this chat.”
“True. It escalated, though.”
“Is that a bad thing?”
He picked up his fork and let his lips curl into a small smile. “I hope not.”
Ellie stared at me. “Are you done yet?”
I glanced up into the doorway. “Nope. Not quite.”
She sighed and leaned against the frame. “Oh, gosh. It’s taking so wong.”
I fought back laughter. “I’m sorry. Maybe three more days. Four at most. Is that okay for you?”
“Can’t you do it kicker?”
“’Fraid not. I wish I could.” She had no idea.
“Dat’s okay.” She put her hands in the pockets of her skirt. “Daddy’s working and Ewi is asweep on the sofa. I bored.”
I tilted my head to the side. “Okay. Did you want to help me?”
“What are you doing?”
“I’m building your toybox. See the pink lid?”
She narrowed her eyes. “Can I do some scwewing?” Hope flashed across her face.
“Sure. Come sit.” I waved her over. “Here’s a screwdriver for you.”
“Oh. It’s pink,” she breathed.
“They’re all pink.” I grinned and moved the toolbox between us. “See?”
“Wow.” Wonder crossed her little face. “Dat’s ‘mazin’.”
I grinned.
“How do you know which one you need?”
“Which screwdriver?” I clarified.
She nodded, clutching hold of the handle so tight her knuckles went white.
“The screws are different. Look.” I picked up one of the crosshead screws and showed it to her. “If you look the head of your screwdriver, it matches the shape. See?”
She made a great show of looking at both the screw and the screwdriver.
“If you put it in, it should fit.” I pinched the sharp end of the screw and held it out to her. “Try it.”
She did just that, poking it. Except I’d given her one that was a size too big.
“Oh, hold on. That’s too big. They come in different sizes, see?” I
pointed at the screwdriver. “You need a smaller one.”
“Can I get it?” she asked.
“Sure. See if you can find the next size down.”
“Okay.” She rifled through them, checking each one until she came to a flathead screwdriver. “It’s different.” She held it up.
“Yep, there are two types. I don’t think I have any screws that it would fit, but not all screws have the cross. Some have one line, and that’s what you’d use a flathead—that’s what it’s called—screwdriver for. But, if you have a cross screw and don’t have the right crosshead screwdriver, you can use a flat one.”
“Weawy?”
“Yep. Poke the screw with a smaller, flat one.”
She got one of the small ones out and did it. More delight crossed her face. “Okay. I need a cwoss one, doe, wight?”
I smiled. “Yes, you need a cross one. Did you find it yet?”
She nodded. “You sittin’ on it.”
I plucked the screwdriver from next to my thigh with a grin. “Here you go.” I put the screw in the pre-drilled hole and twisted it a few times. “Okay, come here.” I patted my thighs, and she came to sit on me. “Now, very carefully, put the screwdriver in the screw and twist it clockwise, okay?”
“Why cockwise?”
I bit back a laugh. “Clockwise is to the right. That’s how you tighten screws. There’s even a rhyme my daddy taught me when I was little.”
“What is it?”
“Righty tighty, lefty loosey.”
“Wighty tighty, wefty woosey.”
It had a certain charm coming from her.
“That’s it. Turn right to tighten, and left to loosen.”
“Okay. Can I do it now?”
“Sure. Do it as tight as you can.”
She leaned forward and, oh so carefully, inserted the head of the screwdriver into the screw. She turned the screwdriver, sticking her tongue out of the side of her mouth. I leaned around to see her face—she wore the mask of complete concentration.
Tongue out, eyes narrowed, brows drawn together.
It was the most adorable thing.
“Dere,” she said, sitting back. “I did it.”
“Amazing job!” I squeezed her lightly. “Can I please have the screwdriver to check how tight it is?”
