by Tawna Fenske
“You’re a great mom.” In all his life, Ty never thought that would be something he’d find attractive in a woman. He leaned close and brushed a kiss across her lips before sitting back against the sofa.
“And I love that you make me feel like more than just a mom,” Ellie murmured. “You make me feel like a woman.” She winced and shook her head, then took a sip of her wine. “God, that sounded cheesy.”
“Not at all,” he said. “I know what you mean.”
She smiled at him and moved her hand on his knee. It felt good there, like it belonged. Like he belonged. Not bad for a foster kid who’d never been part of a real family.
His chest ached suddenly, and Ty took another sip of wine. “Ellie,” he said slowly. “Can we talk about us?”
Alarm flashed in her eyes, but her smile stayed frozen in place. She stiffened beside him, though, and she took a moment before nodding. “Sure. What did you want to talk about?”
He took a deep breath, hoping he wasn’t about to make an ass of himself. Hoping they were on the same page. “I know we agreed this was just a casual hookup,” he said. “That neither of us wanted a relationship.”
“Right,” Ellie said slowly, giving him a wary look. “That is what we agreed.”
“But I’ve been thinking I might want more than that.” Ty’s heart was pounding in his head, and he forced himself not to glance away—to keep staring straight into those blue eyes as he put himself on the line and put those words out there. “And I was wondering if you might feel the same.”
…
Ellie stared back at Ty, hardly believing her ears. Had he really just suggested a relationship? Like an actual, honest-to-God relationship?
She found herself nodding, a little numb from the shock. But mixed in with the shock was something a lot like joy. “Yes,” she said. “I think I might like that, too.”
Until that moment, she hadn’t admitted how much she wanted more. She hadn’t allowed herself to think that way, convinced they needed to keep things casual. Convinced she couldn’t go down that path again.
But the more she’d gotten to know Ty, the more she realized she’d like to give it a shot. Knowing he wanted that, too, was like a big, fizzy pleasure bubble swelling in the center of her chest.
“I’m a little out of practice,” she said. “At relationships, I mean. My last one didn’t end well, and I probably have trust issues.”
Ty smiled and reached up to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear. “Thanks for the warning,” he said. “If it makes you feel better, I’m a bit of a commitment-phobe.”
“Really?” A trickle of unease moved through her veins, but she pushed it aside. If he was admitting it, maybe that proved he wouldn’t be like Chuck. That he wouldn’t cut and run at the first sign of trouble.
“My childhood—uh—wasn’t so great.” He seemed to hesitate, and Ellie felt a flutter of sympathy. “You know that already. But I just mean I didn’t have the greatest example of family life growing up, so that part is going to be kinda new to me.”
Ellie nodded, grateful that he was willing to lay it out for her up front. She and Chuck had never done that.
“I’m a hypochondriac,” Ellie said, needing to put that out there. “Everyone I love gets marched straight to the doctor at the first sign of a sniffle.”
“Understandable,” he said. He took a sip of his wine, looking pensive.
“What else?” Ellie asked. “Do you have any more issues you want to disclose?”
Ty gave a grim nod. “I hog the covers.”
She stifled the urge to laugh. “I did notice that our first night.” She lifted her glass and took a small sip. The wine was plummy and earthy and gave her a blissful heat in the middle of her belly. She snuggled closer to Ty on the couch, resting the glass on her knee as she regarded her new boyfriend with a small smile.
Boyfriend.
The smile got bigger. “I can live with the bed hogging,” she said. Twirling the glass on the knee of her yoga pants, she considered her own list of faults. What else did Ty need to know about her before signing on for a real relationship?
“I bite my nails,” she said. “I’ve tried for years to kick the habit, but I can’t. It drove my ex-husband nuts when we’d be sitting on the couch together watching TV.”
Ty lifted one eyebrow. “That’s the definition of a first world problem.” He scratched his chin with a thoughtful expression. “Um, I’m allergic to cats,” he said. “If things got serious between us and we wanted to move in together, we couldn’t ever have one.”
“Good to know,” Ellie said, formulating a future in her mind that included a cover-hogging, feline-free existence. It wasn’t so bad. “I’m a horrible singer,” she admitted. “But I love to sing in the shower and in the car.”
“I can be a jerk until I’ve had my first cup of coffee.”
She grinned. “I hate coffee. I’m a tea drinker.” She set a hand on his knee, delighted to be touching him. To be sitting here with him, getting this all out in the open, disclosing all the landmines.
“I’m a control freak with the television remote,” he said.
“I’m a night owl,” she said. “And I know you’re an early riser. I’m going to piss you off at some point by staying up too late and wanting to sleep in.”
“Doubtful,” he said. “I’m a workout junkie. I get cranky if I don’t make it to the gym at least five days a week.”
Ellie smiled and leaned into one impressive bicep. “I can live with that.” She sipped her wine and tried to think of more personal faults. “I lose my sunglasses constantly,” she said. “I go through at least twenty pairs a year.”
“I’ll buy you new ones.” Ty grinned down at her then rested his wineglass on the end table. “So now that we’ve laid all that out there, is this where we decide if we can live with each other’s least admirable traits?”
“I think so.”
Ty smiled. “Sign me up.”
“Yeah?”
“Definitely. You?”
Ellie nodded, feeling giddy and joyful and only a little bit scared of what this all meant. “I’m game if you are.”
He picked up his glass and clinked it against hers. “Well, okay then.” He leaned in to kiss her, then drew back and looked her in the eye. “We’re in a relationship.”
Ellie set her wine down then pulled him against her for a hug. He was big and strong and solid and warm, and most of her felt pretty sure this was a great idea. “Thanks, Ty.”
“For what?”
“For being brave enough to start that conversation,” she said. “For being such a great guy.”
Something flashed in his eyes, but he nodded and smiled and stroked a finger over her cheek. “I’ll do my best to be a great guy for you,” he said. “For you and for Henry.”
She smiled and kissed him again, trying not to notice the fear in his eye.
Trying not to think there was something they’d failed to disclose. Something they’d overlooked that could bring this whole thing crashing down.
Chapter Fourteen
“Will I get to watch myself on the television?”
At the sound of Henry’s voice from the backseat, Ty glanced in the rearview mirror. The boy was still wearing his fuzzy gray wolf-ear headband from Great Wolf Lodge and a smudge of chocolate on one cheek.
The grin on his face made Ty smile, too. “You mean the video I was shooting of you at the waterpark?” Ty asked.
“Yeah,” Henry said. “Will it be a movie on a screen like when Mommy and me went to see Finding Dory and I got popcorn and Skittles, or will it be on TV like Batman: the Brave and the Bold when Uncle Jason makes us chocolate milkshakes?”
Ty smiled, charmed by the idea that the joy in Henry’s world revolved around snacks and family relations. He glanced at Ellie in the passenger seat, and his heart gave a pleasant twist. Her window was cracked just a little, making her blond hair ripple in the breeze. He was driving a station wagon, a rental car he’d
picked up for the business trip and because he wanted something kid-friendly. The whole arrangement felt so comfortable and domestic that Ty reached over and squeezed her hand.
As Ellie smiled in response, Ty turned back to answer Henry’s question. “Well, first I have to take all my footage and edit it,” he explained. “Do you know what edit means?”
Henry frowned, his small face scrunching up in the rearview mirror. “Mommy told Uncle Jason I need to learn to edit myself in public,” he said. “And Uncle Jason said sometimes a guy’s gotta burp. So, I think edit means you cover your mouth.”
Ellie stifled a giggle beside him. Struggling to keep a straight face, he gave a quick nod. “I like your powers of deduction,” he said. “It’s a little like that. The idea of figuring out how to work with what you’ve got. It’s about looking at the good stuff and the bad stuff and all the stuff in the middle, and making the very best of it. Does that make sense?”
Henry nodded and pushed his glasses up his nose, shifting a little in his booster seat. “I think so. Hey, can we get a hamburger?”
Ellie snorted in the passenger seat and glanced over her shoulder at her son. “Way to keep up with the conversation, buddy.”
Ty laughed and glanced at the clock on the dashboard. “He does have a point. It’s almost dinnertime.”
He hesitated, wondering whether to suggest a drive-thru or if Ellie was one of those moms who never let her kid eat fast food. Seemed wise to play it safe.
“My place is on the south end of town,” he murmured to her, trying to keep his voice low in case she didn’t like the plan. No sense getting Henry’s hopes up. “I could have us there and have burgers on the grill in fifteen minutes if you’re interested.”
Ellie shot him a grateful look. “That would be amazing. I have nothing at home to cook. Besides, it’ll be fun to see where you live.”
He smiled at her, amazed at how normal this all seemed. How easy it was to have a real relationship.
I have a girlfriend. The words filled him with excitement instead of fear, which was a miracle.
Okay, so there was a tiny bit of dread in there. But he was working on it.
They’d agreed that for now, they wouldn’t use terms like “boyfriend” or “girlfriend” around Henry, or give him any reason to ask questions about the nature of the relationship or where it was headed.
In his short span of time with Henry, Ty had grown to appreciate the need to speak with discretion around a chatty, inquisitive six-year-old.
But he and Ellie had agreed the occasional G-rated display of affection was fine, so Ty reached over and gave her knee a squeeze. She looked at him and smiled, then glanced down at her phone. Her brow furrowed as she read the words on the screen. He didn’t mean to snoop, but he thought he saw the name “Chuck” at the top.
He glanced back at the road, trying to remember if that was her ex-husband’s name. The thought of her staying connected with Henry’s dad didn’t bother him, but the worry on her face did.
He glanced back to see her biting her lip.
You okay? he mouthed.
Ellie shook her head and frowned, then gave a faint head-tilt toward the backseat. His father, she mouthed. Money.
Ty’s blood turned icy. She’d filled him in on the asshole’s persistent requests to lower his child support, and how tired she was of all the arm-twisting.
It made Ty so angry he wanted to punch something.
But as he pulled off the exit and headed toward his house, he told himself to keep his cool. “I think I have apples and some celery in my fridge,” he said loudly for Henry’s benefit. “So we’re all set with the fruits and veggies.”
“My hero,” Ellie said, beaming at him.
It hurt his heart a little to think her idea of heroism involved fresh produce. She deserved so much more than that. So did Henry, for that matter.
As Ty pulled into his driveway, he said a silent prayer he’d picked up all his dirty laundry off the floor and hadn’t left any Playboy magazines lying around. He was pretty sure he’d tidied up before hitting the road, so hopefully there’d be no surprises.
“Here we are,” he announced as he pulled into the driveway. He thought about pulling into the garage, but his truck was already in there, and the floor was littered with motorcycle parts. The front entrance was more scenic, anyway. He studied it with a critical eye, wondering how the cozy rambler looked to her. His place was small but tidy, with a manicured front yard and a big oak tree in front.
The realtor had patted his arm when he’d bought the place five years ago. “That’s the perfect place for a tree fort, don’t you think?”
Ty—who couldn’t fathom needing a tree fort for any reason—had nodded and changed the subject.
Now, he was looking at the tree with renewed interest.
“Your place is adorable,” Ellie said. “Did you plant those daisies?”
He shook his head, liking the idea that she saw him as the sort of guy who’d plant daisies. Maybe he could be.
“They were here when I moved in.” He unbuckled his seat belt and pushed open the door, prompting her to do the same. “Let’s leave your bags out here, and I’ll run you guys home after dinner.”
Ellie got out of the car, looking a little nervous as she followed him up the walk. Henry fell into step beside her, reaching for his mother’s hand. Ty unlocked the door and ushered them inside, relieved the place didn’t smell like a bachelor pad.
“Can I get you something to drink?” he asked, bemused to find himself in the role of a host. “I have water, milk, soda—”
“Milk would be great,” Ellie said. “For both of us.”
“I would like chocolate in mine,” Henry piped.
Ty hesitated. “I’m not sure if I have any—”
“Plain milk would be fine,” Ellie said, giving Henry a stern look. “You know better than to ask for sweets without permission.”
“Sorry, Mommy.”
“It’s okay.” Ellie ruffled his hair, while Ty stood watching, struck once more by how many landmines there were in interactions with children. Sweets and caffeine and privileges and rules—it was all so foreign to him, and there were a million ways to screw this up.
But he focused on pouring the milk, selecting plastic cups in case of accidental droppage. Maybe he could learn this. Maybe he’d figure it out.
Once everyone had a drink, Ty led them outside onto his sunny deck. While he fired up the grill, Ellie got busy wiping down the table and slicing apples and carrots into neat little piles. The whole scene was so domestic that Ty caught himself smiling at the craziness of it all. How much his world had changed in just a few weeks.
He was still smiling as he walked out to the garage to hunt for an old soccer ball.
When he returned to the back deck, he gave the ball a few quick pumps of air and handed to Henry. “You can kick this around the yard if you like.”
Henry beamed and shoved his glasses up his nose. “Wanna play with me?”
“I would love to,” Ty said, meaning it. “But I need to get the burgers on the grill.”
Ellie stood up, nibbling a carrot stick from the tray she’d laid out neatly on Ty’s patio table. “I’ll play with you, kiddo.”
She kicked off her flip-flops then padded, laughing, into the grass. Her blond ponytail streamed behind her as she jogged out into the middle of the yard and assumed an exaggerated goalie stance. “C’mon, buddy! Sock it right here!”
Henry laughed and hustled out into the lawn, booting the ball as hard as possible once he reached it. Ellie scrambled after it barefoot, shouting in triumph as she kicked it back to him. The smell of fresh-cut grass and someone else’s barbecue wafted on the breeze as Ty laid the hamburger patties on the grill.
As the meat began to sizzle, Ty’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He ignored it, not wanting to interrupt his time with Ellie and Henry to chat with anyone—not wanting to do anything to disturb this perfect evening.
He let
the call go to voicemail and turned to flip the burgers. A spatter of hot grease popped, shooting a rocket of gristle backward. It hit his cheek with a searing blast, and Ty dropped the tongs.
“Son of a squirrel fucker!”
He put a hand to his cheek, dimly aware of the silence behind him.
Slowly, he realized the awfulness of what he’d just done. Shoulders tense with shame, Ty turned to see Henry staring open-mouthed with the soccer ball in his hands.
The boy gave him a curious look. “What’s a sq—”
“It’s nothing, baby,” Ellie said, throwing a grimace at Ty. “Come on, toss the ball over here.”
“I’m sorry,” Ty muttered. He closed his eyes and counted to ten, pissed as hell at himself for screwing this up already. For thinking he could be anything other than a shitty influence on a kid.
With his cheek still stinging, he turned back to the grill and checked the buns. They were toasty enough to serve, so he flipped the burgers one last time and added slices of cheese to each one. Calcium. Kids needed calcium, right?
You’re a fucking joke, his subconscious chided. You have no idea what kids need.
“Dinner’s ready!” he called, determined to salvage the evening.
Ellie and Henry hustled over, both gushing about how good everything smelled.
“Here, sweetie,” Ellie said, slathering her son’s bun with ketchup. “You want pickles this time?”
“No, thank you.”
Ty forced a smile, hoping they could all move past his faux pas. “You’re so good at that, Henry,” he said. “Your manners. I appreciate that you always say please and thank you.”
Henry beamed and took a big bite of his burger. “Thank you. I’m trying to be a gentleman. The good kind.”
He attempted a conspiratorial wink, but it came out looking more like the effect of a mild stroke.
Ty laughed. “You’re welcome.”
Ty dove into his own burger, grateful he’d gotten that right. The patty was juicy and flavorful, and the tang of grilled meat made him long for family cookouts he’d never actually experienced.
