by Whitley Cox
Footsteps on the wood floor behind me had me looking up.
“She’s on the road to letting it go. Just give her a bit more time. She understands you’re moving on and M isn’t coming back, but that doesn’t mean she still doesn’t have hope for the impossible,” my father said simply.
I snatched my leather jacket off the hook and shrugged into it. “That’s certainly what it is. Impossible.”
His smile was understanding, both for me and for my mother’s eternal optimism. “Have fun on your date, son. The kids are in good hands.”
Opening the door, I gave him one last nod. “I know they are.”
Chapter 3
Harper
Feeling better, but not quite back to one hundred percent, Carly played quietly on my bedroom floor with her dinosaurs as I got ready for my date. My sister, bless her heart, was going to watch her for the evening. I’d take Carly upstairs in about an hour, and she’d have a slumber party with her cousins. I wasn’t expecting to go home with Sam or have him spend the night, but the option to not have a toddler in the house in the morning was something I was very much looking forward to. Sleeping in past six was such a foreign concept to me now, I had a hard time remembering what it felt like to be well rested.
I’d just popped out of the shower and was leaning over the bathroom sink staring at my pores in the vanity when the most hideous thing practically waved back at me.
Oh, for fuck’s sake, it’s a giant-ass zit!
With a groan and a wince, I went to task dabbing on layers of concealer and powder until it was no more than a pulsing mound on my forehead, the same shade as the rest of my skin. I was just pulling on my black pants that tapered at the ankle when my phone started to ring. My stomach lurched at the thought that it might be Sam calling to cancel. I wasn’t sure I’d be able to show my face back at playgroup on Monday if that ended up being the case. I saw us now, doomed to wander the streets with my toddler as we searched for a new rec center to call our own.
But the number wasn’t Sam’s. It was my sister upstairs.
“Hey, what’s up?” I wandered over to my closet and began the search for a top that didn’t scream “I haven’t gotten laid in three years” but also subtly said, “I haven’t gotten laid in some time, and in the near future I am open to changing that.”
A sound most wretched and all too familiar burst across the phone.
Oh shit!
“Quinn?”
“Harper … I can’t …” More puking noises. “I can’t take Carly tonight. Rick and I are both …”
Damn it!
She and Rick had caught what the kids had.
“I’m on my way up. Just lock yourselves in the bathrooms, and I’ll deal with the kids tonight.”
“Thank—” The line went dead.
I tugged off my dressy pants with a heavy heart and instead pulled on my yoga pants, the ones with the hole in the bum, slunk into my UBC hoodie and then, scooping up Carly and her bucket of dinosaurs, headed upstairs.
“Auntie Harper, Mummy and Daddy are sick,” Lillian said a short while later. We were all sitting in my sister’s kitchen around the table, the kids eating grilled-cheese sandwiches and tomato soup. Though both Carly and Emmet were wearing more of theirs than eating it. My stomach grumbled at the sight and smell, but I just wasn’t interested. I was supposed to be out on a date. Eating restaurant food and gazing into the bright blue eyes of Hot Dad.
“Yes, honey, I know. Seems they caught what you, Emmet and Carly had.”
She nodded solemnly, her six-year-old wisdom coming at me at high speed. “Hopefully, you don’t get it.”
“Hopefully.” I checked to make sure no one was choking and they all had water. Then, with concrete in my fingers and a tight chest, I dialed Sam and left the room.
He answered on the third ring. “Hey, Harper. I was just on my way to come get you.”
I swallowed past the hard lump in my throat. “Yeah, about that …”
“Everything okay?”
I shook my head. “No. I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to cancel. My sister was going to look after Carly, but she and her husband have both come down with the flu their kids and Carly had. Seems to just be bouncing around the house.”
“Oh, no.” His tone was anything but relieved.
My heart soared knowing he really did want to go out with me. Had I been in doubt? I guess I had. It’d been years since I’d dated. Carly had become my life, not that I’m complaining. I loved my life. But the last meaningful relationship I’d been in had resulted in my fiancé dumping me on Christmas. Needless to say, I didn’t feel overly lust-worthy these days, and when a man did show interest, any true glee was pummeled by skepticism and self-doubt.
“Is there anything I can do?” he asked. “Can I just come over and we have a date at your place?”
“I’m afraid not. I have to look after my niece and nephew while Quinn and Rick barf upstairs. I’ll be in their house tonight.”
There was silence on the other end of the phone for a moment and I held my breath. Was this it? Did I only have one shot at dating Hot Dad?
But then he spoke. “Okay, well, let’s try tomorrow night?”
That lump in my throat was the size of a bloody avocado. I shook my head again, knowing full well he couldn’t see me but doing it anyway. “If this flu or whatever is what the kids have, Quinn and Rick will be out of commission until at least Sunday night. I’m sorry.”
“No problem,” he said quickly. “Next weekend then.” It was no longer a question but a statement. He was going to make it happen. My insides began to liquefy, and heat crept up into my cheeks.
I nodded.
He can’t see you, you nit. Stop nodding.
“Next weekend for sure.”
He was quiet again for a moment, but then asked, “Any allergies?”
That’s a weird question.
“No, besides pollen. My whole face goes puffy, and I look like a bee stung both my eyes.”
His laugh made my nipples harden. “I’m the same way. Spring is not my friend.”
“Mine either. I usually just hibernate through the spring until the summer solstice.”
He continued to laugh. I loved his laugh. It was manly, loud and full of life. The way it stirred embers of arousal deep inside me, made my whole body catch fire and had me wishing I hadn’t said he couldn’t come over.
Should I offer for him to come by when the kids were in bed? Would it be weird to have a date in my sister’s house? To have a date while she and her hubby barfed upstairs and the kids all slept?
But he answered that for me. “I should let you go, Harper. I’ll call you soon and we’ll sort out next weekend. In the meantime, try not to catch the bug yourself, okay?”
I nodded again. Shit! I needed to stop doing that. “Okay, thanks. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t sweat it. Such is the way of having kids and family. They come first, and that’s nothing to be ashamed of.”
Well, now you’re just the perfect man!
“Have a good night, Harper.”
“You too.”
“Auntie Harper?” Lillian’s distressed voice back in the kitchen ripped me from my moment of lustful thoughts, and I bounded down the hall only to come face to face with a kitchen table covered in tomato soup and two toddlers and a six-year-old equally coated in the red sauce.
“What the heck is going on here?” I asked, fighting every instinct to not get upset.
“We painting,” Carly said innocently as she swiped the spoon of soup across her neck and down the front of her purple sweater.
Resolution settled like a lead weight in my stomach as I trudged over to the sink and tore off a big wad of paper towels. Yeah, I was never getting laid again.
I quietly shut the door to Lillian’s bedroom, then tiptoed the four steps down to the guest room where Carly slept, nearly tripping over my sister’s cat, Cat Stephens, in the process as he lazed like a fluffy white lump in the m
iddle of the hallway.
I checked one more time on Carly, staring at her limp-noodle little body for a few more seconds before I headed downstairs to get some work done. I’d reached the landing at the bottom of the stairs when my phone buzzed in my pocket.
Sam: The kids asleep?
Harper: Yes, finally. Lil made about seventeen trips to the bathroom and Emmet kept saying his teddy needed to barf too, but eventually I got their stubborn little asses down.
S: Kids!
H: Adorable nightmares.
S: Fitting and accurate description.
S: Open the front door.
The bottom of the stairs was right in front of the door. I swung it open expecting to see Sam, hoping to see Sam, but he wasn’t there. Instead, a big brown paper bag sat on the welcome mat with a note taped to the front. It said, “Dinner.”
H: What’s this?
What does the note say, dummy? It’s dinner.
I face-palmed again, hoping he didn’t think I was nearly as big of a dumbass I considered myself to be at that moment. I carried the bag inside to the kitchen and set it on the counter before pulling out various white cardboard boxes, while the most mouth-watering aroma, heavy on the garlic, drifted up in a steamy and savory embrace.
S: Dinner. Do you have a laptop or tablet or something? I figured we could Skype and chat while we eat dinner. Not the same as being in the same room, but it’s still a date.
Oh my freaking God!
Without thinking twice, leaving my phone on the counter, I raced downstairs to our suite and snatched my tablet off my coffee table. I was back in my sister’s kitchen and out of breath in less than a minute. Thank goodness no one was around to see such behavior. I was acting like a lovesick puppy.
I grabbed my phone. And quickly texted him.
H: Great idea!
He texted me his Skype handle and I hastily, with trembling fingers and quivering guts, punched it into my tablet. Seconds later, his handsome face in a tiny little image popped up, and then a few more seconds passed before the beautiful warble of Skype rang through the air and his image was bigger. Damn, he was fine. Those eyes, that scruff. What I would give, what I would do to have that scruff slowly travel the length of my body. I crossed my legs as I stood at the counter and squeezed them together as thoughts of Sam’s and my past conversations came flooding back to me.
A few months ago we’d been stuck playing referee between our girls as things got heated over some dinosaurs…
“Come on now, Carly. We have to share. There are plenty of dinosaurs to go around. They don’t all need to go in your shirt,” I scolded, helping my child scoop out her hoarded plastic dinosaurs from her tucked-in shirt and back out onto the floor. I rolled my eyes and glanced at Sam who was kneeling there chuckling.
Gemma picked up the Diplodocus, looked at Carly and said, “Thank you.”
“To be fair,” Sam started, “adults don’t have to share their stuff the way we force kids to. If you were eating a burger right now, I wouldn’t walk up and ask for a bite. And you certainly wouldn’t be obligated to give me one.”
I laughed, even though inside I was thinking, I’d give you anything you asked for, Hot Dad. You want a bite of my burger? Have the whole damn thing. You want my body? It’s yours!
But instead I just continued to smile and laugh. “No, that’s true. But we’ve got to get a handle on this dinosaur obsession. Especially the stuffing them down the shirt thing.”
His laugh made my heart do a little pitter-patter. “Fair enough. I guess she knows no kid is going to go in there, so it’s a safe place to hide her toys.”
“I guess. Maybe she saw me put my phone in my bra one day when I didn’t have pants with pockets. I dunno. She comes up with weird things.”
“And no one went into your bra to get it, so she figured down the shirt is a safe place.”
My face grew hot, and I looked away.
That’s right. No one besides my grabby hands little toddler has had their hands down or up my shirt in many moons.
My laugh this time was a tad more forced, and I averted my gaze. His blue eyes were fiercely bright and so damn sexy they made me forget my own name. I was about to say something witty when Landon started crying because another child had run off with his soother.
Sam let out an exhausted sigh and shook his head. “I think I might staple the thing to his shirt… or his arm. We’re constantly losing them.” And with that, he stood up, baby in his arms, and went to chase down the soother thief. Leaving me sitting with Carly, a Brachiosaurus in one hand and a Scelidosaurus in the other, staring at Hot Dad’s hot ass.
We’d had a few conversations like this over the past six months. All of them funny, slightly embarrassing and wonderful. Each and every time Sam and I spoke I fell deeper under his spell. He was charming and sweet, and judging by how he was with his children, an incredible father. And he’d finally, at long last, thanks to Amy’s meddling, asked me out.
“Crap!” I exclaimed to no one in particular as I rejoined reality. I was sharing a bed with Carly tonight upstairs. I couldn’t even whip out my vibrator and take care of my dirty thoughts about Sam after our date. Maybe just a quick zip downstairs before bed? Hmmm, I’d have to see how this date went and how hot and bothered Hot Dad left me.
“Hey!” I was busy plotting my evening masturbation plan when his face appeared, animated and even more handsome than his photo.
I swallowed. “Hi!”
“Ready for dinner?”
“Oh, uh, gimme a second.” I set the tablet down on its little angled cover so he could see me, and then I went to work opening up the takeout boxes.
“I wasn’t sure what you’d like, so I just got a bit of everything. It’s from Pillow Talk, that chic little tapas bar down on Commercial Drive. Have you been yet? I’ve heard good things but haven’t had a chance to go until now.”
I opened the first box and nearly had a spontaneous orgasm. Garlic prawns! My favorite.
Shaking my head, I licked my lips and pulled out a still hot prawn, dripping with decadence and copious amounts of butter, and popped it into my mouth. I licked my fingers. “Oh my God, I love garlic prawns,” I said through chews.
I continued to open the other boxes and was met each time with more incredible morsels. Prosciutto and melon, crab dip and pita, bite-size pierogis with caramelized chunks of kielbasa and sour cream for dipping. My mouth watered as I made up a plate and carried it over to the living room couch. I set Sam up on the table as I made myself comfortable.
“This is lovely,” I said, popping another prawn in my mouth.
He pulled his fork from his sensuous lips and smiled at me. “One of my better ideas, I think.”
“Definitely.”
“So,” he started, taking a sip of his beer. I followed suit, sipping the Chianti I’d poured for myself. I wasn’t going to get sloshed, but I deserved to let loose a little after the week and night I’d had. “What do you do for work? Besides take care of a kid, because being a parent is a full-time job in and of itself, I know.”
The heat in his eyes stirred flames deep down in my core and I felt my nipples harden against my bra. This man was going to have me flat on my back and screaming his name tonight, whether he was in my bedroom or not.
Chapter 4
Sam
Christ almighty, she was killing me. Every time she put a finger in her mouth and sucked off sauce, my cock twitched in my jeans. I was hard as a damn rock, envisioning Harper on her knees with something much longer and thicker between those pouty lips of hers.
Yes, this had been a great idea.
Disappointment had consumed me when she’d canceled. I’d been looking forward to our date, having kicked myself for the entire week leading up to tonight that I’d waited this long to ask her out. I’d been lusting after her for months. Crushing on her from a far, for lack of a better word. But up until now I hadn’t known if she was single, or if I was ready to get back in the dating saddle. B
ut my chat with Amy on Monday had been fruitful and galvanized my decision to make a move. Harper had been tempting me with her sweet laugh and curvy body for months. It was high time I got to know more of her.
I skewered a prawn with my fork and popped it into my mouth. “What’s a virtual assistant?”
She went on to explain and I found myself mesmerized by the melodic way she spoke. Sweet and feminine, but with conviction and strength. What was her story? Where was Carly’s dad? Was he a deadbeat? MIA? Dead? Had it just not worked out between him and Harper, but he was still very much involved?
I looked back up at the screen from my plate. She was giving me a weird look.
Oh shit! Did she ask me something?
“Sorry?” I said. “Uh, bad connection. What did you say?”
She smiled. “I just asked how your meal was. Mine is incredible. I haven’t made it to Pillow Talk yet, but I’m aware of the hype. Though, I have to say, that’s a weird name for a restaurant that serves so many dishes with garlic in them.” She wrinkled her nose, and all I wanted to do at that moment was kiss her. The wrinkle made the tiny diamond stud wink at me.
What else is pierced?
