by Jami Wagner
JUST ONE TOUCH
A BLACK ALCOVE NOVEL
JAMI WAGNER
Also by Jami Wagner
Date in the Dark (A Novella)
Just One Kiss (The Black Alcove Series)
Just One Night (The Black Alcove Series)
To my family.
Thank you for always being there and loving me.
I love you, too.
Just One Touch
Copyright © 2016 by Jami Wagner
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a review.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Cover: Christa Holland, Paper and Sage Design, paperandsage.com
Editor: Julie Sturgeon, CEOEditor, ceoeditor.com
Formatting: Jesse Gordon, a Darned Good Book, adarnedgoodbook.com
Visit my website: www.jami-wagner.com
ISBN – 13: 978-1530071975
ISBN – 10: 1530071976
ASIN – B01CMKP2QC
ISBN – 9781310022562
Table of Contents
Title Page
Also by Jami Wagner
Dedication
Copyright Page
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Epilogue
Thank You
Acknowledgements
About the Author
Chapter One
Conner
I can and I will be a great father for my son.
“Dad! Dad! Did you see?” Jake stands in front of me, his arms swinging as he catches his breath. “I almost made it. Uncle E didn’t lift me high enough.”
I shoot a look toward Ethan that says next time you make sure my kid makes the basket, but he and our good friend Logan are too busy playing one-on-one at this point.
“Next time, bud, I bet you make it.”
“I hope so! I wanna be the best like you, Dad.”
I grin as he takes a juice pouch from the cooler near the driveway and sits on the grass next to me, his legs bent and arms resting by the elbows over his kneecaps, just like me.
I wanna be the best like you, Dad.
His words strike me right in the chest. I don’t ever want him to think otherwise. He doesn’t know that every night he isn’t with me, I’m working shifts to make enough money to pay my rent because I want him to have a warm place to come home to when I have custody. I moved out of my sister’s basement and into my own apartment four months ago. Rent isn’t cheap.
“Where did Aunt Kelsey go?” he asks, twisting on his bum to find her. His hand holding the Capri Sun squeezes a little too tight, causing fruit punch to squirt out of the straw. The liquid lands on his cream plaid shorts. Thank God it’s clear liquid and not red. Stains in clothes are not an area of my expertise. The wet spot blends right in with the dirt and grass stains he got earlier playing with his two-year-old cousin and my niece Clara, Kelsey and Ethan’s daughter.
He notices the new spill and attempts to brush it off, only soaking it in more.
“She went inside to get a surprise for you. Why don’t you go get Uncle E and Logan and tell them to come sit until Kelsey comes back outside?”
“Okay!” His entire face beams with excitement. His juice packet is thrown to the side as he takes off running across the driveway. I notice his untied shoelace a step too late. He hits the concrete, skidding his knee across the hard surface. I’m off the grass before he can get up. In a swift move I pick him up at the waist, place him back on his feet, and kneel in front of him. Logan and Ethan come up behind me.
“Hey, bud, what happened?” Logan asks.
“That was quiet the digger you took,” Ethan says.
Jake looks between them and back to me. I can see the tears trying to fight their way out, but he’s fighting harder not to cry in front of anyone right now. I stubbed my pinky toe the other day when we were at home. Jake asked why I didn’t cry, and I told him it was because I’m a man and men don’t cry. He then told me he was a man, too. My heart swells and I feel like a damn sap.
He wants to be just like me.
“That’s going to make a nice battle wound.” Logan points to Jake’s new bloody knee. “Does it hurt?”
Jake looks at me quickly before he shrugs his little shoulders. “No, I’ll be fine,” he says before squirming out of my hold. He starts to walk away from the circle we’ve made toward the side garage door. Probably to go inside where my sister is.
“How about we get it cleaned up?” I suggest. I’m sure he hasn’t thought of that, but he’ll pretend he has and act like he doesn’t need me. A phase I hope he grows out of, soon.
“I can do it,” he says without stopping and quickly is inside the house.
“You’ve got a tough guy on your hands these days, huh?” Logan asks, chuckling as the basketball shoots from his hands, hitting nothing but net.
“He better be tough. I’m going to need someone to look after Clara when she starts going to school,” Ethan adds as he swoops up the ball from under the hoop.
“Yeah, that’s a few years away, and that’s also if Heather agrees to let him go to school in Wind Valley. She has till the end of the summer to decide, and I suggested making a decision sooner to help with getting the paperwork done, but that only made things worse.”
“Why would she even consider him attending school in Envy? It’s a small town with a school of like ten kids. If Jake went to Wind Valley, he’d have way more options in everything: sports, clubs, and academics. Plus, WV is only a twenty-minute drive from Envy. She should suck it up for Jake.”
Leave it to Logan to be all about the facts. I swear, since he found out his wife, Sara, was expecting, this whole new person came out of him.
“If she picks Envy, it’s only because of my lack of trying.”
“Trying to what?” Logan asks.
I scratch the back of my neck as I look away. How can I explain to them that Heather has suggested dating, without getting the dead-stare look they always give me? The one that says, I wish I could help, but I have no idea what to say right now. “She wants to give the family thing a try,” I say, summing it up quick.
Single me is screaming no every time I think about it. Father me—he doesn’t want to rule out anything that could be the best decision for my son.
And, yep, right there, that’s the look. The basketball stays pinned under Ethan’s arms as they stare at me.
“Like, as a couple and not just Jake’s parents?” Ethan asks.
“You and Heather?” Logan asks at the same time.
“Yep,” I answer, nodding slowly. “That’s her idea.”
“The same wom
an who made all these crazy rules for you to follow so you could get time alone with Jake. The crazy mother who didn’t want you around and wouldn’t agree with anything you said?” I don’t miss Logan’s concern buried in the tone of his voice.
“Yeah, that’s about my exact thought process,” I tell him. After all, for the first two years of Jake’s life, she didn’t tell me I had a son. You’re irresponsible and can’t even take care of yourself. There was no way I was going to put my child in your hands.
“When did she decide this?” Ethan asks.
“About two days ago.”
“Well, crap, what are you going to do?”
I shrug, because that’s my only reaction to the entire idea. I still can’t wrap my head around the fact she even came up with it. We were never a couple to begin with. We fooled around once, that was it. Why try now? And it’s not that she isn’t attractive, I just don’t feel a connection with her other than Jake. I’ve seen the way my friends are with their wives or the way they talk about them when they aren’t. I don’t have that for Heather.
“I don’t want to say I’m 100 percent against the idea, but forcing feelings for someone and then it not working out doesn’t sound like anything that ends well.”
“Do you think you could have feelings for Heather?” Logan asks.
“Maybe. I mean, we fooled around one night and now this is where we end up. I haven’t really made much of an effort to get to know her outside of who is doing what for Jake.”
“So you think if you get to know her, you might develop real feelings for her?” Ethan asks this time.
“There’s only one way to find out, right? If it means giving Jake a good life, I should try anything.”
“Well, I guess there’s your answer,” Logan says.
“Yeah, I suppose you’re right.”
“And you know, if you need to talk or maybe get a woman’s perspective without leading Heather on, Kelsey might be able to help,” Ethan adds.
I nod—my sister would be the right person to talk to about this— but Heather is really who I should go to. Communication is what will make this work the best.
I pull my cell from my pocket to shoot her a text asking if we can meet for ice cream before my shift at the BA tonight.
The garage door opens and Clara steps out in a blue and white polka dot dress, her brown hair looking a bit ratty from a day of playing with her cousin. Her steps are slow as she focuses on the paper bowl in her hands with a scoop of ice cream in it. Jake comes out next, his steps just as cautious for the same reason and a bandage over his knee. Then Kelsey pokes her head out, holding the door open enough to show a glimpse of her seven months’ baby bump.
“I have a bowl for each of you, if you want to come get it.”
You don’t have to tell us twice.
Once we’ve all settled down in the grass and eaten our ice cream, I glance at my watch. I told Heather we could meet in an hour.
“Jake, why don’t you head on over to Grandma and Grandpa’s and give them a hug goodbye?” With them living across the street from my sister, it’s easier to visit everyone when we come here.
“Do I have to leave?” His tiny, sad voice breaks my heart.
“Yeah, bud, your mom misses you the way I do when you’re gone.” I ruffle his head and mess up the same chocolate-brown hair that I have in the process.
I can’t read the blank expression on his face, but based on his resistance to move right now, I don’t want to know what he’s thinking.
My little man stops at the sidewalk and looks both ways before he crosses the street. At four years old, he should be by my side for this journey, but with it being a slow neighborhood, the group of us observing from the grass and my parents, standing on their porch, I think he’s just fine crossing on his own.
He gives them each a hug and then repeats his process back across the street. A few more hugs later, we’re in my truck and headed back to my apartment. I only glance in the rearview mirror a few times, because the bummed out look on his face is heartbreaking. I don’t want him to go either, and if I could say anything to him without tearing up myself, I’d want him to know that I’m fighting for him. To be a part of his life, to make sure he is always taken care of.
Being a family could give me all that.
* * *
I pull up in front of my apartment building. It has the exact same four-plex layout as Sara and Logan’s, only this is in the building next to theirs. Still, it’s walking distance from my job at the Black Alcove Bar and I love it.
I put the gear of my red, four-door Ford truck into park and take notice of the moving truck out front and the small, white Corolla that’s in my usual parking spot. There is a heart sticker in the window with the number 26.2 in the center. That can only mean one thing. The new tenant, the one moving in across the hall from me, is crazy and a runner. All runners are crazy in my opinion. What a boring sport.
“Hey, bud, let’s keep the secret of you having ice cream at Aunt Kelsey’s house between us, okay?” I say, catching his attention in the rearview mirror. Heather would not be too impressed if she knew he ate ice cream twice in one day when he’s staying at her place tonight. Bedtime will be fun for her.
My bad.
“Why?” he asks.
“If we keep it a ‘Daddy and me’ secret, maybe we can do it again someday,” I reply instantly, because I knew that he would ask why. His eyes light up and he nods numerous times.
With a shake of my head, I turn off the engine and hop out, opening Jake’s door just in time for him to jump out, too. He thinks he’s cool because he can unhook his seat belt and doesn’t need his dad to do it, but one time he did it too soon was all it took for him to learn it’s even cooler to wait until the truck is turned off before he pulls on the buckle.
He doesn’t say anything, but he peeks inside the white truck, taking note of the fact that only a few boxes and a chair are left to move.
“That looks like our chair, Dad.” Jake points right before he starts to climb in, but I tug him back by his back belt loop.
“That’s not our stuff, bud. Let’s go inside, alright? I’m just going to grab the mail and I’ll meet you in there. Wait for me once you’re inside.”
He nods fast, walking straight for the doors like I taught him. Don’t stop for anyone.
I watch him the entire time until his little body is completely inside. The mail contains just another power bill and an issue of American Motorcyclist. I tuck both pieces under my arm as I open the door. I expect to find Jake standing in front of our apartment door, quietly waiting for me, because that’s our agreement during this phase, but he isn’t. He’s standing in front of the door across the hall, talking to our new neighbor instead.
“Yeah, and then my Uncle E”—deep breath—“he picked me up and I didn’t make it.” He takes another deep breath as he finishes giving what I’m guessing is the quickest rundown of his afternoon.
My mouth is half open, ready to start in on my “what did I tell you about talking to strangers?” talk when I take the last step inside the building, allowing his chatter companion to come into view.
Long and tan legs, toned from what I’m going to assume is a crap load of running, stand before me in a pair of cut-off jean shorts and a black Nirvana t-shirt that hugs a perfect rack. Blonde hair is pulled up into a messy, sexy-as-hell bun on top of her head with a few wisps of hair falling down her face. Crystal clear eyes like diamonds with just a hint of blue in the center catch my gaze, and I’m completely drawn to them. When she smiles, any lecture I’m about to give is fully forgotten.
“Hi, I’m Alex.” Her eyes are trained on me as her grin stays put.
“Conner,” I reply, grinning back, and that’s when I realize there is a dresser, a mattress, and multiple boxes blocking our apartment door. This isn’t a very big entryway. I don’t even know how they got all this in here. I check my watch again.
“Are they going to be much longer to move this?
” I ask, pointing to all the stuff in front of my door.
“Dad, is she our new neighbor?” Jake tugs on my hand.
“No,” she says, peering out the front door behind me. “They said they were taking a quick break, though.”
“A quick break? I have somewhere I need to be.” Heather likes promptness. Showing up late isn’t in the plans for me.
“Oh,” is all she says, followed by a forced frown and shrug. “Maybe you could get inside through a window?”
“A window?” She can’t be serious. Her response tells me she doesn’t care about the inconvenience she’s causing me. “You think I should take my son and break into my own apartment through a window?
“Or you just cool down and wait. It was just a suggestion.” Her stance changes as her hip pops to the left and she crosses her arms.
My left brow cocks at the fact that she actually seems irritated by me. I’ll just take care of it myself. I may be overreacting, but if her attitude right now is any indication of what kind of uncaring neighbor is moving in across the hall from me, I’m not thrilled, and the less interaction we have, the better.
I grab a box and turn for her apartment. She cuts me off before I make it through the doorway, and I have to take a deep breath before I lose that so called “cool” she thinks I need to find. I need in inside my apartment if we’re going to meet Heather on time and I refuse to wait for her or her worthless movers to move all of this junk. Whether she likes it or not, I’m doing it myself.
Alexis
“What do you think you’re doing?” I ask, pulling my view from the bulging biceps that are tugging against his shirt as he holds one of my boxes in front of him. Typical guy, taking charge of the situation, like a girl doesn’t have the aggression to do it herself.
“I don’t have time to wait on your lazy movers,” he says, nudging me with the box to move out of his way.
“Put my things down.” I push back against the cardboard. This guy can’t just walk in here and tell people what to do or be rude for no reason. It wasn’t like I told my movers to put my stuff in front of his door so I could have a rocky start with a new neighbor. Being in this town has my nerves on edge enough as it is.
