Ian: hey, I take offense to that
Then my phone rang.
“How about you cook, I eat, and Oliver stays over while I’m on call?”
I laughed. “Dude, did you seriously just ask me to babysit?”
He laughed hard, and again I was brought into his circle of warmth. “Actually, Denise has the flu, and I don’t want her near us, and I don’t know the chick she’s sending as her replacement, so yeah, it was a cheap shot.”
“Come over whenever you get off. Where’s Oliver going to be after school?”
“Hockey practice. He just started this week, and he loves it. I’ve got one more case to do. Then I’ll pick him up and head your way.”
I sat at my desk and thought about what to fix for dinner and decided I’d try something Asian for a change. I read through the list of recipes and nothing sounded good to me, my stomach still in knots from the medicine.
Cashew Chicken
Orange Beef
Orange Chicken
Sweet and Sour Pork
The thought of pork instantly made my mouth wet in a nasty way, but it didn’t go away. At a moment’s notice, I was hurling into my trashcan.
Okay, this shit has gotta stop.
I’d been tossing my cookies ever since they’d put me on the steroids. The only thing that soothed me was hot tea, and I was out of it at the boutique. It was rare for me to close early, but Isabella was still on vacation with her latest boy toy, so I turned the sign around and made Starbucks my destination before picking Ty up from school.
“Momma, you okay?” my darling boy asked when he saw me.
I rubbed his hair. “You bet. It’s been a long day, and I’m just glad it’s Friday. Hey, we have to stop at the store. Oliver and Ian are coming for dinner, and Oliver is going to spend the night with us. Sound good?”
Ty shrugged his shoulders and didn’t answer me as he got into his booster seat.
I shut my door and put the car in drive. “What gives, kid?” I prodded him in a teasing tone.
“He always beats me when we play video games.”
I sensed his jealousy. Competition for an only child was a good thing, and I didn’t want him to always get his way. But, two years was a big difference at their age. “He’s older and maybe he’s talented in that area. You have a talent in baseball, and since you’re left handed, you have a better throw than he does. Someone is always going to be better at something than you are. Just remember your own talents. Besides, ask him to teach you his tricks.”
“Will he show me?” His little face lit up with excitement.
“Sure, he will. It’s like having a big brother.”
Oh shit, did I just say that?
“Mom, is Oliver going to be my brother?” he asked with a grumpy tone.
Oh God, help me outta my hole, I dug it too deep. “I didn’t mean that literally. I said like a brother. It was just an example.”
“Oh. Maybe one day I can be a big brother.”
Wow, the hole just became a pit, a deep one to my inner core. “Being a big brother is a big job. I’d bet you’d be great at it.”
We scanned the Asian section of the store, and Ty made the decision on cashew chicken, and I added Asian beef salad.
With our ingredients and a box of fortune cookies in our bags, we unloaded the groceries in the kitchen. To speed up the process of preparing dinner, I put my iPod player in the kitchen and turned up the volume. I was in the groove and not paying attention when I swirled around and landed right in his arms.
“You could propose that show to the Food Network, you know.” His laugh was cocky. His body was sexy in green OR scrubs that displayed his form.
I stepped back from him. “How do you know I haven’t? I might’ve titled it Delicious Meals by Dancing Diva?”
“And when does it air?” He kept it going.
I stirred the chicken before tossing in the cashews. “They turned me down flat, said the Diva needed dancing lessons.”
We both laughed.
I poured two glasses of iced tea. “Have a seat. There’s something I need to ask you.”
He sat and watched me take the meat off the grill pan before I joined him at the table.
“Can you ask Oliver to show Ty some tricks on the video games? Ty is feeling a little uneasy being beaten all the time, and since he’s left handed, he’s not as good at the games as Oliver.”
Ian raised a brow. “Competition issue?”
“Yeah, something like that.”
He got up from the table and went to the den, where the boys were playing. Taking a seat on the floor, he began asking questions. Both boys offered up tips and suggestions, and before long, Oliver was showing Ty things without Ian having to ask.
He looked back and me and winked.
That’s when it hit me the hardest. My inability to trust a man was robbing my son of having a family. Something he craved more than even I did.
For my first attempt at cooking anything Asian, dinner turned out better than expected, although I had no appetite to speak of. I thought steroids made people gain weight. I’d lost over ten pounds in a week, not that I was complaining about the scales going down, but no one loves to throw up.
“Mom, can we do the cookie thing?”
“You made cookies?” Ian’s face lit up.
I shook my head and laughed. “Don’t get too excited. They’re store-bought fortune cookies.”
We each took one from the box and opened them. Ty needed help, so I read his first, “It is up to you to create your own adventures.”
Ty smiled, but I wasn’t sure he heard anything other than “adventures”.
Oliver read his next, “It’s time for you to explore new interests.” We all agreed his new obsession with hockey fit.
Ian asked me to read mine next, but I said he was a guest, and he had to go first. “Be prepared for big and small things to fall in your path.” He winked.
Neither of the boys was even paying attention, they were busy grabbing for more cookies.
“Read yours,” he said softly.
I opened the cookie to the sensation of all eyes on me. “Something wonderful is about to happen to you,” I read from the unfolded paper. Suddenly, I felt a comforting warmth, as if covered in an invisible toasty blanket. I prayed the prediction was about my sight, and it would happen soon.
“That’s a great one,” he said, covering my hand with his. When he realized we had the company of small eyes, he patted my hand and quickly removed it.
The ringing of his phone interrupted the moment, and he made his apologies, leaving quickly for the hospital.
I didn’t figure I would see him again, but around ten o’clock, he arrived carrying a sack full of various quart size containers of ice cream. Both the boys were already asleep in Ty’s bunk beds, while I was studying menus for the bistro.
I met Ian in the kitchen. “Oh my God, you’re reading my mind,” I squealed.
“Craving something sweet?” His brow rose.
“Yes, how did you ever know? What flavors did you get?” It was a rhetorical question; I was sorting through the containers already.
Strawberry, Ultimate Neapolitan, Moo-llennium Crunch, Mint Chocolate Chip, Buttered Pecan, and the traditional stand-by, Vanilla.
“What’s your favorite?”
I looked at him with a container already in hand. “Strawberry.”
He laughed. “If I’d had guessed, I would’ve been dead wrong, thinking Moo-llennium Crunch.”
“It’s my second favorite; you’re close.”
He sat the Mint Chocolate Chip aside and put the rest in the freezer. I handed him a spoon and took my carton with me to the sofa.
“Hmm, this is so good. Thank you.”
“Dinner was great, by the way. I need the recipes.” He sat down on the opposite end of the sofa and opened his treat.
“It was a first for me, cooking Asian that is.” I chewed my lip for a moment. “But I’m trying to focus on y
ou and recipes together in my mind, and it’s not working.” I giggled.
“There’s that delightful sound again. I think you’re feeling better.” He gave my leg a quick pat. “Hey, where are the job bids? Let me take a look before I get called out again.”
I gave him the quotes, and he studied them for quite some time, finishing his ice cream along the way. He made some notes and asked to see the renderings again. For someone who said he wasn’t a pro, he was going over each line item as if it were a puzzle.
While he worked on the bids, I put the dishes away, making noise and busying myself in my favorite room of the house. I didn’t hear him approach me and turned suddenly, running right into his chest. His hands came to rest on my upper arms.
“How’s the eye? Any glimpse of light or slight fuzziness?”
I shook my head. “It’s only been a week, and the headaches are fewer, so I’m hopeful.”
“Come sit back down. I want to show you some things I’ve found.”
We studied the architect’s designs, and he pointed out a few issues or items I would’ve never caught. One of the contractor’s bids was much lower than the others and for a good reason. He was using reclaimed wood—a detail that fit the design very nicely and also the esthetics of the original space.
“Repurposing wood can be more expensive, so he may have a good source and a great price. He’s also lower on his costs for the floors because he’s refinishing them as opposed to replacing them.”
“Yay, I think I have my contractor.”
Ian started rubbing my feet, and oh, damn, it felt so good. “Tell me about your mother’s dreams for the bistro.”
While he rubbed, I rambled. “She wanted to take out the break room, office, and inventory area for a small coffee shop with pastries. A Starbucks before there were Starbucks.” I snickered.
His brows knit together. “Where would she have put inventory?”
“She had plans for putting in a drop ceiling with automatic lifts to put boxes on. It was unique, but expensive, and I like the look of the tall, coffered ceilings that I have. I’m glad she didn’t do it.”
We talked for several more hours, until the wee morning. I offered him the guest room, and he accepted, which surprised me. For a split second I thought about the weirdness of having him so close and yet so mentally far away, but there was something to be said for feeling safe and secure in my own home with him there.
That was until I woke in the middle of the night, sensing someone staring at me…
Chapter 18
Ian
Two o’clock. Awake.
Three-thirty. Awake
Four o’clock—fuck this.
Staying in Chelsie’s guest room gutted me. It was a mistake, and I lay awake way too long. The sheets were crumpled from the weight of my body, tossing and turning without so much as two seconds of shuteye.
I tried desperately to shake her hold on my thoughts—unleash the invisible chains on my flesh. To be so near and unable to touch her was utter torture. Physically, she kept me at arm’s length. Mentally, she’d practically buried me in the one and done pile. I had to formulate a plan to change the way things were between us.
I was both thrilled and stupid when she asked for my advice about the store. I counted the minutes until I could get to her, but didn’t take into account that being so close would be so brutal at the same time. As dinner came and went, I’d watched her avoid eating and became disturbed. That was when I studied the overall change in her.
She was thinner, and her hair didn’t have the shine it had when I’d first met her. The bruising from the fall had almost vanished, but dark circles had taken residence under both her eyes. Her face was hollow, and her smile didn’t have the sparkle it once held. I craved to put the light back into her life if only she’d let me. She was stressed, tired, and worried about something she wasn’t telling me. Something wasn’t right, and it was more than just her sight.
One night—that was all I needed.
My normally concise persona would’ve tried to explore all that ailed her, but the call from the hospital interrupted my plans for decoding every detail that was Chelsie.
When ice cream came to mind on the way home, I knew she wouldn’t refuse me.
Working together on the quotes and drawings for remodeling reminded me of days gone by when Olivia and I’d built our home. Olivia was such an aggressive woman and always had to have the last word. I’d loved her with all my heart, but at times she could be difficult, and I’d felt myself giving in just to keep the peace. As more time passed between my present and her death, I wondered on occasion if we would’ve made it, had she not left me so soon. She’d taught me much about love and a spiritual connection I’d never known, but she was a free spirit herself, and I’d often wondered if I was enough of a man to satisfy her for an eternity.
Would my life still have taken this turn in the road if Olivia were still alive?
Meeting Chelsie brought about a hope for an eternal love once more. A love I’d thought I once had with Olivia. A passion to look forward to once the candle’s flame was extinguished for the night, knowing a brighter day would present itself in the morning.
The trust Chelsie gave me when we made love both heightened my senses and scared the hell out of me. The way she watched me with her eyes before I covered them… More intimate than words.
If only the iron gates hadn’t closed around her heart again so quickly.
I finally couldn’t stand not touching her any longer and tiptoed into her room. The light from her outside security filtered around the curtains, leaving a slight glow that provided just enough brightness for me to see her stillness.
Lying there with her long hair draped across the pillows she looked peaceful—angelic.
Watching her made me completely uneasy. Desire to claim her tormented my existence. I reached out to touch her face, and as my flesh came within millimeters of hers, I thought wiser of it.
Without further pause, I left her a note explaining I’d been called back in and would get ahold of her in the morning to pick up Oliver.
Yes, it was a lie. Revealing my truth was far from necessary—it would only serve to push her even further away.
In the quietness of my own surroundings, the cold beads of water did nothing for my arousal. Unable to discard the hunger of her from my soul, I grabbed the shaft of my cock in one hand and massaged the heaviness of my sack in the other. With my eyes clenched, I imagined the sight of her blue eyes closing in mid climax amidst the erotic sounds of her moaning my name. It was an echo forever etched in my mind. For one night she was mine.
What I’d give for another…
Chapter 19
Chelsie
Someone was in my room…
Someone was watching me…
I pushed my body firmly against the headboard, shook my head in an attempt to release the veil of foggy anxiety, and tried my best to convince myself it wasn’t real.
Wide-awake, I searched the room to find it empty, and the only noise was the thunderous beating of my heart.
Suddenly, I remembered Ian had spent the night. His being close meant safety, no harm would come to me, even with my overactive mind. It had only been a dream, and the drool on my pillow confirmed it.
I settled back against the mattress and curled into a ball on my side. I tried to go back to sleep, using my decorating method, a trick I’d used for years. I’d start imagining a room or a vignette for the store to rearrange, and before I could ever finish a design, I’d be out cold. Most of the time I rarely remembered where I left off, but this night was different. I’d designed two vignettes I wanted to do after the remodel and had yet to fall asleep.
Crap.
Having Ian in my home was making my subconscious brain activity unbearable. He was too close—having him so near me was destroying any normalcy for my life—and I didn’t mean just that particular night in my house. Having him down the street had the same effect.
&
nbsp; After watching over an hour pass on the dimly lit clock on my bedside table, I went for a glass of water.
When I found his note, I giggled. I was stressing over him, and he wasn’t even in the room across the hall.
Oh, my God.
Get a hold of yourself, Chelz.
The next time I woke, it was to the sounds of birds singing and bright sunshine filling my room, and I thought about how glorious it would be when I could view a day like that with both eyes.
My final week to surgery was counting down. I’d made up my mind that it was inevitable. But what would my life be like afterwards?
“Hey,” Ian greeted me on the phone with a deep, growly voice.
“Hey, good morning to you too,” I answered with a laugh. We seemed robotic and somehow peculiar to me, although I wasn’t certain why.
“Is Oliver awake? I need to pick him up. We’re going to see the new Transformers movie right after lunch.”
“Yes, he’s already had breakfast. Are you at the hospital?”
“No, I’m walking down now.”
Shit. I looked down at my sloppy pajamas, and putting my hand in my hair, I confirmed it was still wild.
Why should I care how I look? What did it matter? We’re just friends, right? Friends can see each other at their worst, and it’s still okay.
But, for some reason, it mattered.
“I’m about to get a shower. Let yourself in the front door.” I hauled ass to the bathroom and put a rush on getting ready. I didn’t know if he’d get Oliver and leave or stay to visit, but I didn’t want him to see me looking frazzled.
Within thirty minutes, I’d reappeared freshly showered, dressed appropriately, with my hair in a ponytail, but Oliver and Ian were gone, and Ty was walking in from the backyard.
“What’s wrong, Mommy?” my son asked, obviously noticing the disappointment on my face.
I tried to brush it off. “Oh, I must’ve took too long to dry my hair and didn’t get to say goodbye to Oliver.”
Ty lifted the lid to the storage ottoman. “Mom, he didn’t leave, duh. We’re playing with Yolo, and I came to get her Frisbee.” I watched him run back outside with a sure-fire spring in his step.
Conflicted on 5th: A 5th Avenue Romance Novel, Book One (5th Avenue Romance Series 1) Page 12
