by Witt, L. A.
“Well of course she came out,” I said. “She was hungry.”
“Food’s a hell of a motivator.” For a moment, he watched the doorway she’d disappeared through. “Maybe someday she’ll be friendly. I’m not really holding my breath, though.” He turned to me. “I’ve had her for a couple of years, and she’s never warmed up to me or anyone else. She likes the other two, though, and sometimes I catch her sleeping next to Jack. She’ll even sneak onto the foot of the bed at night if it’s cold.” He threw another glance at the doorway. “I feel bad that she’s too nervous to hang out with people, but she seems to be happy most of the time.”
“Where’d you get her?”
“Found her in the garage after a snowstorm.” He faced me again. “Guess she must’ve snuck in during the day, when the door was still open, and hunkered down for the night. I found her when I came in the next morning, gave her some food, and she didn’t want to leave after that.”
“I hear that happens when you feed strays.”
He laughed. “Yeah, it’s true. Anyway, I was afraid she’d get hurt there, or get run over outside because we’re on kind of a busy road. So I brought her home.”
Smiling, I said, “You’re really a sucker for animals, aren’t you?”
“Guilty.”
“You and my son.”
“Yeah?”
“Oh man, he’s that kid who cannot walk past a cat or a dog without saying hello or petting it. And animals love him too. My mom thinks he’s a cat whisperer because she’s got one that won’t let anyone pet her except him.”
Aaron smiled. “Kid after my own heart. I’ve always been an animal person.”
I glanced at the dog on the other armrest, the cat behind our heads, and the one curled in his lap. “You don’t say.”
The smile turned a little sheepish, and his cheeks colored. “Hey, they’re company.”
“I’m not judging.” I lifted my chin and kissed him. “I think it’s cute.”
He rolled his eyes, the color in his face deepening.
“Aaron, are you blushing?”
“No, I’m not. Shut up.”
“Uh-huh.”
He chuckled and kissed me back. “Do you want to watch this movie or not?”
“Okay, okay. Let’s watch it.”
Though the movie we’d picked was about as far from a date movie as we could get, Aaron dimmed the lights and draped his arm around my shoulders. I leaned against him as he started the film. And this . . . this was nice. It had been a long time since I’d cuddled up with anyone besides my kids, and while I loved that, this was different. It was one of the first things to go when my second marriage had gone sour, and I’d missed it more than the sex or the divide-and-conquer approach to household chores. Didn’t mean things were getting too cozy for a couple of fuck buddies. We were physically intimate, so why not sit close while we were watching a movie?
Because that’s what people do when they’re dating. Like for real.
Aaron’s fingers idly ran up and down my shoulder.
Does he know he’s doing that? Does he know it’s giving me goose bumps?
I had no idea if he was aware of it, but I didn’t say anything. Neither did he.
And neither of us moved.
* * *
The weekend Aaron and I decided to head out of town finally arrived, and things worked out perfectly. Turned out Leo wouldn’t have been able to devote as much time to the kids on his designated weekend, so switching things around meant he’d have three entire days with them.
Since they were going down the coast and wanted an early start on Saturday morning, I brought them over to his place on Friday night.
While the kids took their suitcases into their bedrooms, I turned to Leo. “So what have you guys got planned for the weekend?”
“Whatever they want. Which means we’ll probably spend some time digging clams at Westport.”
I smiled. “They’ll enjoy that.” I wagged a finger at him. “Whatever you make with the clams, you’d better save some for me this time.”
Leo laughed. “You can take that up with your children.” He showed his palms. “I won’t be held responsible if they inhale it all again.”
Chuckling, I shrugged. “Fair enough.” My kids loved seafood, and when they got their hands on some of Leo’s famous clam chowder, saving some for me wasn’t a priority. Couldn’t really blame them.
“So what about you?” He studied me for a moment. “You got some hot plans for the weekend, don’t you?”
“Hot plans?” I sputtered, glancing around to make sure the kids weren’t within earshot. “What are you—”
“Shane.” My ex-husband rolled his eyes. “I know you. And I’m glad to see you’re getting out there.”
I kept my gaze down. “I . . . Yeah, it’s good to be . . . you know, getting back in the game.”
“Well. He’s— Wait, he? She?”
I met his eyes. “He.”
“Right.” Leo smiled. “He’s a lucky man.” He touched my arm and squeezed gently. “Have an awesome weekend.”
Oh, that’s the plan . . .
My cheeks were burning, and I laughed. “We’ll see how it goes. But I think it’ll be fun.”
“Good. Don’t worry about the kids while you’re gone.”
“I never do when they’re with you.”
“Liar.” He nudged me playfully. “You’re a dad—you worry about them any time they’re out of your sight.”
And when they were in my sight, but there was no need to split hairs.
“Okay, fair. You know what I mean.”
“I do. Now go have a good time. We’ll save some clam chowder for you. Maybe.”
“Hey!”
“I’ll do the best I can.”
“Yeah. You’d better.”
I said good-bye to the kids and to Leo, and as I left his house, my heart was pounding. So Aaron and I were really going to spend a weekend together. Quite possibly with someone we hadn’t met yet. All I had to do was get home and wait for him to come pick me up. Then we’d crash at his place, and in the morning, we’d be on our way.
Nervous, excited, and barely believing I was actually doing this, I drove a little faster.
* * *
I couldn’t move my foot. What the hell?
Slowly, I opened my eyes, and Aaron’s bedroom came into focus. Oh right. I’d slept here last night. Well . . . “slept” was being generous, but we had managed to doze off eventually.
So why couldn’t I move my foot?
I lifted myself up and looked down. Oh. That made sense. My foot was fine, aside from being pinned down by a very large and very asleep dog.
I carefully freed my foot and tried to roll over, but there was a fat cat ass hogging most of my pillow. “Really?” I muttered, and shifted around as best I could without disturbing everyone.
On the other side of the bed, Aaron was still asleep, and I almost had to grab my phone and take a picture. It wasn’t just that he was ridiculously hot, especially with the salt-and-pepper stubble darkening his jaw and above his lip. For as grizzled and badass as he seemed most of the time, radiating Mr. Tough Guy whether he was in his firefighter gear or his mechanic’s coveralls, I had to say he was pretty fucking adorable lying there with his fluffy white cat sleeping against his chest and under his chin. They were both out cold, and he had an arm around her. She even had one white paw draped over his wrist. Mr. Tough Guy definitely had a soft side when it came to his critters.
I reached over and petted the cat’s side, and she trilled quietly. Then she rolled onto her back and started purring loudly as she stretched her paws out. One brushed Aaron’s face. He wrinkled his nose and murmured something. His arm curled tighter around her, making her purr even louder.
I thought Aaron was going back to sleep, but his eyes fluttered open.
“Hey.” He shifted a bit, but didn’t seem like he wanted to disturb the cat. “What time is it?”
“Time
for me to see somebody’s soft side, apparently.”
He laughed and scratched Snowball’s ears. “Eh. Oreo used to pick fights with her all the time, so I started sleeping like that to keep them apart. I guess it turned into a habit.”
“It’s pretty cute.”
His cheeks colored. “Don’t tell anyone, though. Might damage my image.”
“Oh, kitty-themed blackmail? I like.”
Aaron rolled his eyes. “Great.”
Laughing, I leaned toward him and, careful not to squash the cat, kissed him lightly. “Think we should grab a shower and hit the road?”
He groaned. “I don’t hear coffee in there anywhere.”
“Dude, coffee goes without saying.”
“Damn right it does.” He sat up, prompting a glare from the cat that could’ve peeled the paint off the walls. “Hey.” He patted her rump. “Don’t look at me like that. Getting up means you get fed.” Then his eyes flicked toward me, and when I smirked, he scowled playfully. “Shut up.”
I snickered but didn’t say a word. We got up, and I showered while he fed and watered his animals. After he’d showered and dressed, we had the first of what promised to be multiple cups of coffee. As late as we’d been up last night, it was going to take a gallon of the stuff to get us to Seattle without nodding off. Worth it, though. So worth it.
As Aaron rinsed out our empty coffee cups, he said, “All right. I guess we should hit the road.”
“Sounds good to me.” I nodded toward his animals. “They’ll be okay while you’re gone?”
“Oh yeah. My neighbor keeps an eye on their food and water, and she lets Jack out and takes him to the dog park.” He smirked. “When we get back, they’ll act like I’ve been gone for years, but she assures me they do fine while I’m not here.”
“They’ll just make sure you feel guilty afterward?”
“Like you would not believe.”
I laughed. “We’d better get going before they guilt you into staying, then.”
“Oh.” He wrapped an arm around my waist and kissed the side of my neck. “That’s not going to be a problem. Don’t worry.”
I sucked in a sharp hiss as he nibbled my earlobe. “At this rate, though, I’m going to be the one who doesn’t let you leave.”
“Well in that case.” He abruptly let me go and flashed me a wink as he picked up his overnight bag. “We’d better hit the road.”
“Asshole.”
He just chuckled and grabbed his keys off the counter.
With the animals taken care of, and my anticipation for the weekend officially off the charts, we got into his car and started toward Seattle. As the Camaro roared down the highway, we shot the breeze like we always did, telling stories about hometowns in between comparing notes on the pros and cons of Bluewater Bay.
“I think the only real downside,” I said as we crossed the Hood Canal Bridge, “is how far I have to drive if I want to go to a damn football game.”
“There’s always the high school games.”
“Eh, they’re not the same.”
“Better than watching the Raiders play,” he muttered.
“Hey. Hey.” I wagged a finger at him. “Don’t start trash-talking my Raiders.”
“What? I’m just saying.” Aaron shrugged, glancing at me from the driver’s seat. “They can play a decent game, but they’re no Seahawks.”
“Oh, now those are some fighting words,” I said.
“Uh-huh. And you’re in Seahawks country, so . . .”
I groaned melodramatically. “Don’t I fucking know it.”
He snickered. “LA wasn’t even Raiders country, was it?”
“Yeah, but I was raised in the Bay Area. And, anyway, there were plenty of Raiders fans in LA too. Now that LA’s got its own team, I can only imagine the rivalries.” I chuckled. “Maybe I got out at the right time.”
“Probably, yeah.”
I opened my mouth to say something, but my phone vibrated in my pocket. “Crap. Hang on a sec.” I took it out, and my stomach clenched. Unknown caller. Suppressing a few curses, I put the phone to my ear. “Hello?”
“Is this Mr. Shane Andrews?” The male voice wasn’t familiar, but something about his tone struck a chord that immediately set my teeth on edge.
“Yes, this is Shane Andrews.”
“Great. Listen, this is Trooper Steve Bailey with the Washington State Patrol, and I—”
“Let me guess,” I ground out. “You just pulled over an African American gentleman who has three white kids in his car, and you just want to be sure he’s allowed to have them with him?”
Aaron glanced at me, eyes wide.
On the line, there was silence for a second. “Uh . . .”
“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” I schooled my tone, fighting the urge to blow up at him. “Listen, the letter he has with him is identical to the one my daughter has with her. He is my ex-husband. Their stepfather. Would you please let them go so they can spend some time with him?”
More silence. Some papers rustled.
Then, muffled, the cop asked, “Is it true this man is your stepfather?”
“Yes,” Desiree said. “He was married to my dad, and we spend a weekend a month with him. Okay?” I could hear my daughter’s I’m so done with this huff from here, and I grinned. That’s my girl.
The cop came back on the line with me. “Well, we didn’t mean to bother you or Mr. Chambers, but we—”
“Dr. Chambers,” I growled.
“Pardon me?”
“The man’s a doctor. You could at least give him that much respect.”
“Oh. Uh.” The cop cleared his throat. “Well, we just wanted to be sure everything was all right. I’ll send them on their way.”
“Please do.” I hung up before I ground my teeth to dust.
“Holy shit,” Aaron said. “What was that all about?”
“Ugh.” I rubbed my forehead. “The cops got suspicious seeing a black guy in a car with three white kids.” I dropped my hand into my lap. “It happened all the time when we were married. Bluewater Bay PD figured it out after a while, but any time he goes outside the city limits with the kids, all bets are off.”
Aaron shook his head, lip curled in disgust. “What year is it again?”
“Right? Ugh. My daughter’s getting ballsy about it, though. The second the cops start haranguing Leo, she steps in and tells them to call me.”
“It doesn’t scare the kids?”
“Oh, it did when they were younger. Especially the boys. It got to the point Leo couldn’t drive anywhere outside of Bluewater Bay with them because it was traumatizing them. That was . . .” I sighed. “That probably didn’t help when our marriage started coming apart. It wasn’t his fault, and it wasn’t my fault, but it was some extra stress when we didn’t need it.”
“Damn. I’m sure it would be.”
“At least now that the boys are a little older, and they understand what’s happening . . . I mean, they still hate it, but they know Leo and I have a handle on it. He never goes anywhere with them without a signed, notarized letter that says they can be with him.”
“Wow.” Aaron whistled. “That’s a goddamned shame he has to do that.”
“No kidding. Fortunately, the worst thing that’s happened is what you just saw—they call me, they verify the documents, and then they apologize and act like it was a misunderstanding.” I rolled my eyes again. “I don’t know how Leo stays sane, to be honest.”
“Can’t imagine. It’s amazing that shit still happens in this day and age.” Aaron shook his head. “I’m not really surprised, though. I had a black mechanic working for me for a couple of years, and people were awful to him. Not all, but enough that everyone sure noticed. One of my current employees—Reese, you met her—still catches hell at least once a week for being a female mechanic.”
“Oh my God. Are you serious?”
“Yep. She was practically raised working on cars. I bought the shop from her dad a
few years ago, and she stayed on because it’s what she knows and what she loves. But not a week goes by that someone doesn’t treat her like a bimbo who doesn’t know a lug wrench from a tire iron. She acts like it’s no big deal, but man, it’s gotta wear on her.” He glanced at me. “So I don’t doubt your ex gets worn down with the damn cops harassing him.”
“I know. He acts like it’s nothing, but . . .”
“I get that.” Aaron sighed. “You want to hear something fucked up? You should see all the women who bring their cars to us because they know Reese won’t throw in an ovary surcharge.”
“A what now?”
“It’s what she calls it when mechanics try to get women to pay for unnecessary repairs because they don’t think women know cars. Like telling them they need a new master cylinder when the check engine light only came on because the gas cap was loose.”
“People really do that?”
“All. The. Time.” He huffed sharply. “People are assholes.”
“Amen to that.”
There wasn’t much to add, and the conversation fell into a natural lull. We rode in comfortable silence for a little while before Aaron spoke. “So, your ex-husband is a doctor?”
“Yep. Pediatrician.” I chuckled. “That’s actually how we met.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. Back when we lived in LA, the boys went through a period where they were tag-teaming ear infections and sore throats. I think it was stress because their mom and I were divorcing, but anyway, we were in and out of the doc’s office like three times a week. Leo wasn’t their doctor, but he was in the same practice, and we always made a point of saying hi to each other when I was there. He’s a great guy, definitely. We just sucked at being married. The way we are now is perfect. Well, when the cops aren’t hassling him, anyway.”
Aaron scowled and shook his head.
“Anyway.” I released a long breath. “Hopefully that’ll be the only call I get.”
He held up his hand with his fingers crossed.
“So,” I said. “You ever been married? Or done the long-term thing?”
“Oh, I’ve shacked up a few times, but . . .”
I studied him, then cautiously prodded, “But what?”
