Yeah, I’m gonna need that to happen again.
I want everything that happened today to happen again. The sun, the impromptu cookbook brainstorming session, the coming. Even the tearful confession—admission maybe is a better word—if only because I feel so much lighter. Not solved, and definitely not fixed. As I just learned, it’s not anybody’s job to fix anybody else except themselves.
But I do feel…seen.
And I’ve been around long enough to know that’s something extraordinarily special.
“So, let me preface this question by saying that you don’t need any reason to not want kids except that you just, well, don’t want them,” Ford says. “But I can’t help but feel this issue is related to how you feel about kids. Seeing how unhappy your mom is—seeing how much she’s had to give up—is that maybe what’s terrifying you about having kids yourself?”
Talk about feeling seen.
This guy gets it. He gets me. In ways I don’t even understand myself.
“Definitely,” I say. “That is definitely what terrifies me. Rationally, I know I won’t necessarily end up unhappy like that. But in my mind, taking the plunge into parenthood probably isn’t worth the risk. I like my life right now. I’ve worked really hard to make sure my story is different from my mother’s. A big part of that is—well, not having kids. Being exposed to my parents’ resentment day in and day out…Ford, it’s something that stays with you.”
Ford nods. I notice a muscle in his jaw jumps against his stubble. I get the feeling he’s…I don’t know, keeping something in. Or maybe bumming out.
Bumming out because he wants us to work but knows we never will?
The thought makes my chest hurt. Because I had the best time today, and I am insanely, joyfully attracted to him, and I enjoy his company so very much. We laugh. We connect. We get each other.
We’re the same in many ways. But at the end of the day, we want very different things.
We lead completely different lives.
Now, out of the blue, part of me might want to change that.
I want to consider more with him. I want to get past my fear, forget the painful lessons I’ve learned from my parents, and be able to at least consider the idea of seriously dating a man with a kid.
Because I’m starting to think Ford is kind of a dream guy. Yes, this is happening fast. We’ve hung out, what, all of three times over the past couple weeks? But in a way, I’ve known him for years. I’ve been with him for years.
In a way, we really are picking up where we left off.
How would a relationship with Ford work, though? He’s a dream, but to be with him, to become a stepmother to Bryce, I’d have to sacrifice parts of myself I am not willing to give up. Give an inch, give a mile, remember?
Then again—if I don’t have to save my own mother, my own family, the way I’ve been trying to do for basically my entire life—maybe that frees up space in my life to, say, have my own family. Maybe motherhood won’t be so overwhelming, and won’t require such extreme sacrifice, because I’ll have time in my life for the family I create and the dreams I’ve worked for so long to make happen. Because I won’t be spending that time trying to fix or save the family I came from.
Maybe it’s time for me to move on.
I mean, do I just get to do that? Now? Whenever I choose? But what will happen to Mom? Dad? Their relationship?
I don’t know.
I do know that the idea of not being responsible for anyone’s happiness but my own is a tempting one.
I run through the idea in my head over and over on the drive home. My heart twists when Ford puts his truck in park in front of my apartment.
Just like that, we’re back at the same spot where the day began. It flew by, and yet we covered years.
Ford takes off his sunglasses and drops them in a cup holder. Looks at me. Eyes searching my face.
“Penny for your thoughts,” I say.
He shakes his head. Just like I did when he asked me that question.
“You don’t want kids. I have a kid. I get where this is going,” he says slowly, taking his hands off the steering wheel. “If you want me to back the fuck off, I’ll do it. Won’t be easy, and I won’t be happy about it, but I’ll honor your wishes. That being said, I would still love to be your competence-porny recipe muse for your new cookbook. If you’ll have me. Not to toot my own horn, but…” He glances at his crotch. “Well, I’ve got a really nice horn. And I do come up with some solid ideas every once in a while. Plus I love your mom’s cooking. As an overworked single dad, I don’t get to eat home cooked comfort food all that often, so…”
I give him a shove. “Are you seriously guilt tripping me right now?”
“Absolutely.”
“You’re the worst. Slash the best.”
“What if I throw head into the deal? I’ll give you all the head you want if you let me make your cookbook dreams come true.”
I try to glare at him, fighting a grin. “Jesus, you play dirty.”
“You like it dirty.”
“I do. I’d be honored to have your help. Really.” I swallow. “But I don’t want either of us to get hurt. Again. You did give me a lot to think about today. I still can’t promise you anything, though. Not yet. If you’re okay with giving me some time—some space to work through things in my head…”
His eyes light up. “I’m more than happy to give you all the time you need, E. I want you to know I don’t expect anything from you. I’ll admit the…well, the intensity of our connection after so much time apart has taken me by surprise. If I could, I would take you out every night, and wake up with you in my bed every morning. Obviously that’s not possible for a lot of reasons, but—yeah, I’m really enjoying your company, E. Having fun. There hasn’t been nearly enough of that in my life. So can we just keep it at that for now while you figure some stuff out? Keep it fun?”
I nod. “I can do fun.”
“Great.”
“Great.”
We look at each other for one beat, then another. The space between us thrums with energy.
But judging by the way I see him in every recipe I jot down later that night—the way I can’t stop thinking about the tender, possessive way he touched me on his boat—what I feel for Ford is so much more than just fun.
I just don’t know where that leaves us.
Chapter Sixteen
Ford
Ford: Not gonna lie, Monday really blows after you spend your Sunday naked on a boat with a hot AF cookbook author. Still dreaming about those tacos. The ones you made, and that other one, too.
Eva: You and the terrible vagina puns.
Ford: Maybe you should send some of your favorite romances my way. The steamier, the better, so I can brush up on better euphemisms.
Eva: The best romances don’t use euphemisms, IMHO. But I will be more than happy to pass on some romance. There is so much good stuff out there these days!
Ford: I’d love that. How goes the recipe testing?
Eva: Gotta be honest. Our brainstorming session really kickstarted my muse. I’ve been in the kitchen since seven! Mom’s coming over soon to help.
Ford: Jealous of your mom. Tell her I said hi.
Ford: So I was thinking.
Eva: What were you thinking?
Ford: Once a month, Luke and Gracie host a Saturday morning brunch at the barn for friends and family. What if we tested some of your new recipes at the next one? Invited some of our favorite people to sample your food so you can see if you’re on the right track?
Eva: Wow. I love that idea. LOVE it. Even if it does make me want to puke a little [puke emoji]. What can I do to help make it happen?
Ford: I can reach out to Luke and see what their availability is. I’ll also put together a guest list. You just keep brainstorming.
Eva: Thanks. Sincerely. I’m flattered you thought of me.
Ford: Gotta be honest. I can’t stop thinking about you.
Eva: I think abo
ut you too. In a *fun* way of course.
Ford: Of course
Eva: How’s work going for you so far today?
Ford: Busy. This is the first time I’m coming up for air all day. Doesn’t help that Bryce woke up screaming with an earache. Turns out she’s got a double ear infection. Spoiler alert, but kids are constantly sick. Mine included.
Eva: Poor baby. I hope she feels better soon!
Ford: Me too. Her cousin is due to arrive at the end of the week, and I’d hate for her to miss it if she’s sick.
I feel like I’m running a marathon at full speed all week long. Greyson took the week off to prepare for the baby’s arrival, so it’s just me running the ship at Montgomery Partners.
We onboard another executive assistant, and promote two of our most promising Vice Presidents to Directors to help with the workload. They’re very good at what they do, and it’s nice to pass off some of the more tedious tasks like building models and putting together presentation decks.
Still, things are more than a little hectic as I dash around town like a lunatic. From the second I’m up, I’m on the go. Office to prescription pickup at the pharmacy to meeting to site visit to grand opening back to office. Then home to feed Bryce and put her to bed before pulling out my laptop to tackle the hair-raising mess that is my inbox.
She isn’t sleeping all that much on account of her ear infection. Coffee has become my new best friend, as have carbs. Glad I got to show off my bikini body to Eva over the weekend, because it is totally going to shit this week.
Despite the chaos, I manage to juggle it all without totally losing my mind. Mostly because 1) I got my fill of fun and Eva this past weekend, and 2) I know I get to see Eva again this upcoming weekend. By some miracle, I managed to book Luke’s barn for her tasting this Saturday during one of my only open slots of time.
I cannot fucking wait. I’ve been putting together ideas and little touches all week. It’s a fun project to work on.
Although the fact that I’m so excited about it makes me a little nervous, too.
Fine, more than a little nervous. She said I gave her a lot to think about, and that she would try to work through some things that were holding her back. But she made no guarantees.
Me, though? I’m ready to go all in.
If Eva called today and said she wanted to give a relationship a shot, I’d pull out all the stops short of going down on one knee. I know that what we have is special. I know I fucked it up the first time. I’m not about to make the same mistake again.
I’m also really, really thrilled that she’d consider thinking things over in the first place. Means she’s feeling what I do. The intensity. The pull.
She knows just how excellent we could be together.
So I wait and I work and I send her flirty texts in the meantime. I jerk off a lot, too, thinking about those pretty tits and that perfect pussy of hers. I’m reverting back to my college-era, horny-as-fuck-self, and I make no apologies for it.
At the end of the day, I just miss her.
I worry I’m setting myself up for another epic heartbreak. Losing Rebecca destroyed me, and I don’t know if I can go through that again. She and Eva are the only women I’ve ever had such strong, overwhelming feelings for.
But I’m doing my best to take my own advice and trust the universe. If Eva and I are meant to be, we’ll end up together. I have to be patient in the meantime.
I get a call on Thursday night from Greyson that Julia is in labor. By Friday morning, their son has arrived. I grab Bryce from home—I called her pediatrician, who assures me she’s no longer contagious—and head to the hospital, where I meet my parents.
Mom and Dad are beside themselves with excitement when they greet us just outside the hospital room.
“How’s everyone doing?” I ask.
Dad grins, wrapping me in a bear hug. “Everyone is healthy and doing great. A boy! Can you believe it?”
“We were all so convinced it was a girl,” Mom adds, smiling. “I love what a surprise this is.”
“Was I a surprise?” Bryce asks from her usual perch on my hip.
I give her a squeeze. “You were the best surprise ever. We thought you were going to be a boy. Remember that, Mom?”
“Of course I remember. When we found out you were a girl, I was so happy I cried,” Mom says, taking Bryce from me for a quick hug before handing her back.
“I still get to be your favorite, though, right?”
Mom laughs, patting Bryce on the back. “I’m a lucky grandmother, because now I have two favorites.”
Bryce scowls. I laugh.
“By the way, the nurse was asking us if we had gotten our flu shots,” Mom continues. “Apparently it’s going to be bad this year—they’re expecting it to hit early.”
I blink, trying to remember if Bryce and I got our shots this year. I think we did last year? I think?
“I’ll call the pediatrician to double check,” I say, making a mental note. “Can you even get a flu shot in June?”
But before anyone can answer that, we’re herded into the room by a smiling labor and delivery nurse. I lead the way.
Inside, it’s calm and quiet. Grey is standing beside Julia in the big hospital bed in the middle of the room. Both of them gaze down at the baby tucked against Julia’s bare chest, hazy, happy smiles on their faces.
I blink back the sudden warmth of tears. I remember that moment so, so well. Rebecca and I blissed out, just wanting to stare at our brand new baby. Bryce looked like me when she was born, from her full, red lips to the way the tops of her little ears stuck out. I couldn’t get enough of her.
Still can’t.
She looks more like Rebecca now, thank God. But I remember how obsessed Rebecca and I were with just looking at our daughter. We’d stare at her for hours, totally in love with the tiny creature we made.
“Look,” I whisper softly into Bryce’s ear. “That’s how your mommy held you when you were first born. You were so little she kept calling you peanut.”
Bryce smiles. “I was a peanut?”
“You were. The cutest one, too. So cute that mommy and I couldn’t put you down.”
Seeing my brother’s son sleeping on Julia’s chest—helpless and perfect and teeny tiny—I feel a twist in my chest. Julia and Grey are exhausted, as evidenced by the dark circles underneath their eyes. But they’re also glowing.
“Hi,” Grey says, his whole face lighting up with a smile. “You guys come on in and meet the newest member of our family.”
“We named him Greyson Parker Montgomery IV. A little much, we know, so we’re thinking we’ll call him Parker.”
The twist tightens as I smile down at the baby, eyes still stinging.
“Y’all, he is perfect,” I say with a sniffle. “Even with Grey’s nose.”
“Hey.” Grey nudges me. “What’s wrong with my nose? You have the same damn one.”
“Yeah, Dad. I have the same damn one too,” Bryce repeats. “And I am beautiful.”
The room erupts in laughter, and even though my daughter just cursed, for a second I think my heart is going to burst it’s so full. My family is pretty fucking great, and it just got all the better with this new arrival.
I do my best to bite back my smile, instead giving Bryce a quick but firm lecture on why her confidence is admirable but her cursing is not.
“So what do you think of your new cousin?” I say, leaning down so that Bryce can get a better look.
She clings to me like her life depends on it, staring down at the baby. She blinks once. Twice.
“Well?”
“He’s all right I guess,” she says, and this time I let myself laugh. Such a Bryce line.
“Just all right? C’mon. He’s going to be your best friend.”
“You know she’s going to be the ringleader between the two of them, right?” Grey says under his breath. “She’ll steal your booze and teach him how to drink it.”
“Yup.” I give Bryce a k
iss. “No stopping this one. You make daddy so proud, bun.”
We get the go ahead from the nurse to pass the baby around. After we wash our hands, Mom holds him first, then Dad, then me. Despite being very skeptical at first, Bryce is eager to hold him. We prop her up on the bed with Julia, and she helps Bryce cradle her cousin for the first time.
Tears are slipping out of my eyes left and right as I take about fifteen hundred pictures with my phone.
“Can I call him Boo?” Bryce says.
Julia looks up at me and smiles. “Well, his name is Parker.”
“I like Boo better.”
“All right then. Boo it is.”
This finally coaxes a smile out of Bryce. Seeing my baby smile with a new baby in her lap—
“Mom, do you have any tissues?” I ask, sniffling.
Mom, being Mom, whips one out of her pocket and hands it to me with a smile. “So sweet, isn’t it? It’s taking me back to the day Bryce was born.”
It’s taking me back, too. I can’t help but wish that it was me experiencing that glow all over again. The newborn phase is tough, don’t get me wrong. But I miss when Bryce was that little. She was such a good baby, with smiles for days and these delicious little rolls on her thighs.
It’s so true what they say about babies—that you forget all the hard parts and only remember the good ones. Mom always said it’s a form of evolutionary amnesia. Nature wants you to forget the difficult stuff so you’ll do it all over again.
I am feeling that amnesia something fierce right now.
And my heart keeps twisting. Maybe because I can’t help but think of Eva. I think about her all the time. I’m totally falling for this girl, despite the fact that she promised me nothing beyond fun.
Despite the fact that we have a major difference of opinion when it comes to a pretty big life choice.
This choice. The one about kids.
Even if Eva did change her mind—again, it is not my place to encourage her to flip on such a huge issue—would she ever want to have a baby of her own?
Southern Heartbreaker Page 13
