The Best Thing

by Zapata, Mariana

  But the while he was here hung there, and the Still a Tiny Bit of an Asshole raised his eyebrows in return.

  “Of course you can see her tonight. Let’s go,” I muttered, figuring we could talk about his plans later.

  “What’s that face for?” he asked when we had gotten about halfway to the door leading outside.

  I kept my gaze forward and didn’t even bother lying. “I don’t know what to think of you.”

  He waited until he was pulling the door open. “Nice thoughts?”

  I snorted, and I sure as fuck didn’t look at him. I didn’t need to see him smile at my sarcasm.

  “Would you like to know what I think about you?” he asked teasingly.

  “Sure,” I said as he caught up behind me, telling myself not to take him playing around to heart.

  “You didn’t even think about it.”

  I glanced at him over my shoulder and gave him a face. Like there was something he could say that would hurt my feelings. Ha. He hadn’t gone to a private Catholic girl school for a year with a buncha bitches.

  Jonah lifted up one of those shoulders. “All right. You’re brave—”

  That had me coughing. “Brave?” Where the hell did he get that from?

  Jonah’s arm brushed mine as we walked side by side. “Yeah. You didn’t hesitate to say yes, did you? I’m not sure I’d want to know what you think of me.” He paused. “Actually, I wouldn’t want to know.”

  He probably didn’t, and I was only going to feel slightly bad about that. “It’s not all bad,” I mumbled, reluctantly.

  He chuckled. “Well, as long as it’s not all bad….”

  I rolled my eyes and kept my mouth shut to not egg him on.

  Or make him do something that would make me really smile.

  What he did do was brush his forearm against mine again.

  Luckily, he waited until I was backing out of the parking spot to talk again. “How ya goin’?”

  “Fine. You?”

  “Great,” he replied.

  “The gym is working out okay?” I was feeling friendly today apparently.

  “Oh, yeh, it’s nice,” he replied as he shifted around in his seat, one hand wedging itself between the door and his thigh. He hadn’t needed to move backward. He was the last person to ride in the front seat. “Has everything I need and more while I’m here.”

  While he was here were the keywords there. I really did need to ask him eventually what he was doing and where he was going. I hadn’t gotten another notification on my home screen with news on him switching teams, so I could only guess he still hadn’t made a decision. I was pondering that over when he asked a question, and I had to ask him to repeat himself.

  “Do you have an idea where I might be able to get jandals?”

  I hesitated. “Jan—what?”

  “Jandals… Thongs?”

  I blinked, an image of that body in a thong filling my brain for a second. Well, it was something else being stuffed into a thong that I imagined. That was a mental picture I needed to live without.

  “Sandals?” he offered, hopefully not being able to read what I’d just imagined.

  Oh. Oh. “I thought you meant”—I looked at him, but he looked totally and completely innocent—“—thong underwear.”

  He looked at me for a split second. Then that deep, deep laugh trickled out, filling the car. “Nah, sweetheart. That’d be a sight, wouldn’t it?”

  It would be a sight. If I was still into that.

  I had dug myself into this hole by bringing up his underwear, so now I had to get myself out of it. I got back on topic. “What size shoe do you wear?”

  “Fourteen in En Zed,” he replied. “Don’t know about here though.”

  I thought about it. “Let me text someone. I don’t know if they carry size fourteens around in normal stores, but you can order some online, worst case. Order them today and you can get them in two days. I’ll find out for you when we park.”

  “You’re a sweetheart, Lenny.”

  That had me snickering at the windshield.

  “What’s that laugh for?”

  I shook my head. “Just about every single person I know would laugh if they heard you call me that.”

  His attention was outside the windshield too when I glanced at him. “Can’t speak for them, but you’ve been bloody good to me so far. Heaps better than most would in the same position.”

  I side-eyed him. “I’m being all right to you because you’re here and I can tell that you’re trying,” I told him honestly.

  Some of his smile dropped off, but he clung to that shit, and it was him trying to keep it that made me keep going. Because I didn’t want to make him feel bad, even though he deserved it. He was trying. I’d never tear him down for being responsible.

  “Look, I’m real good at holding grudges, but only if they’re called for, and I’m not going to make my life miserable by being mean to you if you’re trying your best,” I finished, facing forward again. “I’m good at a lot of things, Jonah, and getting along with people, especially men, is one of those things.” I pressed my lips together and made a face at the windshield. “Except you’ve seen me naked unlike them, but whatever.”

  He choked so deeply I glanced at him and smiled a little. I really was in a good mood. He was so easy to fuck with, and it just made me want to do it more.

  So that’s what I did. “And I’ve seen your winky. And we’ve had sex.”

  It wasn’t like Mo had been immaculately conceived.

  Jonah’s face was already pink and, from the looks of it, escalating to a special shade of red, and it just egged me on.

  “But I’ve seen a lot of little breakfast sausages at the gym, so don’t get all shy,” I told him evenly, secretly eating up the color at his cheeks and the choking sound he made again. Heh. I’d forgotten he was such a prude. And that brought me joy.

  “Why?” he got out after a second.

  “Why what?”

  “At the gym?”

  “When the guys drop weight, they get on the scale naked, and half of them don’t have enough modesty to put on a towel when they do it. I don’t go over to them and hold up a magnifying glass to inspect their sweaty, hairy little chicken eggs or anything. They’re just… there. Like overripe, sad little bananas sometimes.”

  Out of the corner of my eye, I could see a big hand go to his face, and I could barely hear him as he repeated, “Sad little bananas?”

  “You forgot overripe.”

  His groan filled the car, and I couldn’t fucking help but laugh at goody two-shoes.

  How the hell had I forgotten that? I remembered I’d referred to a penis as a willy right after we’d met, and he’d cracked up big-time. Then I’d called it a pee-pee to fuck with him, and he’d had tears in his eyes.

  Fortunately, we rolled up to the daycare soon afterward, where Mo spent some time at twice a week. Since most of the parents who dropped off their kids worked “normal” full-time hours, there was no one parked out front. Jonah and I got out at the same time. He did what I had started growing to expect from him: he opened the front door for me, making eye contact as I passed him.

  I kept my own expression nice and even as I did it.

  And half of his mouth tipped up, that fucking dimple popping.

  “Hey, Lenny,” a familiar voice called out from the office directly in front of the double doors.

  I tore my attention away from the man who stopped directly beside me, his forearm and the back of his hand brushing my upper arm and elbow like there wasn’t enough space in the entrance so he had to stand so close to me. “Hey,” I greeted the older woman who came to a stop in the doorway, keeping my arm exactly where it was. “How’s it going?”

  The director of the daycare moaned. “Fine except for this monster cold I’ve got. I’ve got to stay away from the children for the time being.” Slowly, her eyes swiveled to the man literally standing right beside me, and I could see her eyeballs widen just a litt
le but just enough.

  That was my cue. “Rachel, this is Jonah. He’s Mo’s dad. I was going to ask you if you could add him to the list of people who can pick up my little monster.”

  Her eyes widened even more, and I couldn’t say that I blamed her.

  I tipped my head up to look at Jonah and gave him a little smile. “You have your license, right?”

  That bottom lip was pulled into his mouth with his teeth right before he nodded. He glanced at the woman and said, in a voice quieter than I had ever heard before, “I have my New Zealand license. I can bring my passport if you need something else.”

  I frowned. What the hell was he whispering for? He didn’t speak very loudly in the first place but….

  Poor Rachel, on the other hand, was too busy trying her best to keep it professional, to wonder why Jonah was talking like he was Stuart Little. But I knew what she was thinking. How the fuck had Lenny had a child with brown-haired Thor?

  I wouldn’t have known how to answer. I still didn’t totally get it either. I wasn’t the most attractive woman in the world, but we’d… gotten along. Or at least, he’d thought my sense of humor was awesome, and he’d been charmed by my foul fucking mouth.

  “Sure, sure,” she agreed while I was still wondering why Jonah had been whispering. “Let me get that from you, and Lenny, I’ll need you to sign a form stating that you’re giving permission to do this….” She trailed off an explanation that I mostly listened to as I watched Jonah fish his license out of his worn, slim wallet and hand it over.

  Ten minutes later, Rachel was buzzing us through the door after making us squirt hand sanitizer on our hands. The doorway would lead into the main part of the building where the kids were split up. Grandpa Gus and I had picked this exact daycare because they focused on babies. There were eight kids in Mo’s “class,” which, as of two months ago, consisted of the six-month-olds and up. There was another class with the really young ones, six weeks to two months. Three months to six. A fourth class had one-year-olds to two-year-olds. It was small, clean, and pretty exclusive because of the size of their groups. Plus, they had an app that let us see what she was doing via cameras in the rooms the kids were in.

  If it hadn’t been for Grandpa Gus pulling out the big guns and winking and over-the-top flirting with Rachel, I was pretty sure they wouldn’t have accepted us.

  Then I’d seen their rates and wished they hadn’t.

  Jonah followed me in, his head swinging around the room we had been let into, a room with the one to two-year-olds. A teacher and an assistant were busy collecting toys.

  “One more room over,” I told him.

  “You said she comes twice a week?”

  I pushed open the Dutch door that led into Mo’s room. “Yeah, but on the same days every week.” It was the only time they had been able to fit us in around the other kids’ schedules.

  “So your granddad can have a break?”

  “No, to spend some time with other kids. He’d keep her all the time if I asked, but I don’t want to put that on him. It gives him time to do the things he likes that he hadn’t before.” Oooh, I could see Mo already on a mat made up of individual squares with letters on each by herself, with a set of what looked like stackable, colorful cups. “Being an only child, not having any kids to play with, sucks sometimes. And I want her to know how to share.”

  “Know from experience?”

  “You’re damn right I do.” I smiled as I lifted a hand toward Mo’s teacher a moment before dropping to my knees beside my girl, soaking up her cheery shrieks of babble when I ducked my head into her vision as she reached her arms toward me.

  “I’m so happy to see you too, booger,” I told her. My heart swelled so big, I was pretty sure it might explode. Words flew out of my mouth as I kissed her cheeks. Hi and Iloveyousomuch and Imissedyousomuch and Howwasschool? Her reply was to pull on my hair that had fallen out of my ponytail and landed on her face.

  And it was then after all those words that I sat back on my heels to give Jonah room. Jonah had crouched down beside us at some point, elbows tucked into his sides. His eyes flicked from me to Mo and back again, and the smile that came over his face was more genuine than I ever could have hoped for. Slow and steady, and so white and bright and earnest, I felt bad for regretting there for a while that it was him I had created her with.

  He wasn’t a bad guy, for the most part. He was still a little bit of an asshole for what he’d done to me, even if I did understand I’d been the last thing on his mind when he’d thought he’d lost his true love. But there was hope for him, at least where Mo was concerned.

  That was enough.

  “Hello, Mo,” he said quietly, reaching one of those big hands out, letting those small fingers wrap around one of his.

  “Say hi to your dad, da-da-da,” I told her, holding the toes of a foot covered in a soft-soled shoe.

  The smile on Jonah’s face grew brighter but more wistful too. His throat bobbed. “How’s my wee girl?” he asked, reaching across with his other hand to touch what I knew was the softest little cheek. Then he did the same to the other one with a deep, deep sigh.

  I totally knew where the hell he was coming from with that sigh.

  Maybe he didn’t love her yet, but I could tell the possibility of it was there. It would be no time. With those big brown eyes and that gummy grin and the soft skin and all that fucking potential she had in her tiny little bones… Mo gave me hope that I didn’t know I was capable of. Hope for… life. Or something. She had her whole life ahead of her. She could do anything.

  “Is this normal?” Jonah asked quietly.

  “What?” I was pretty sure I knew what he was referring to, but I wanted to make sure.

  Two shiny light brown eyes moved to me before moving back down to Mo, and I couldn’t help but smile.

  “Is it normal to think she’s awesome? I think so. I remember they put her into my arms, and the first thing I told my grandpa was that I didn’t know I could love someone I’d just met so much.” I touched the growing foot again. Even thinking about that swell of emotion almost a year later, still felt like a miracle. It had been, and was, the most unexpected thing I had ever felt.

  I felt his sigh.

  “As soon as you told me she was mine… my daughter… something happened. I don’t know how to explain it. The more I see her, the more….” He exhaled again, and somehow it came out thoughtful. “It’s strange and wonderful to think she’s mine. This person who has no idea who I am yet.” His free fingers touched her other foot. “But she will. She’ll know she’s mine. She’ll never doubt it.”

  I watched some big emotion swallow his features, staining them pink again. An emotion I wasn’t sure I was capable of handling or interpreting. But I knew what I thought of it.

  I understood how it made me feel.

  Protective of him too. This big man with his quiet voice and infinite patience. Someone who felt the weight of a life on his heart and wasn’t trying to run away from it. But had instead instantly stepped into it.

  I wasn’t sure how we were going to make this work. Wasn’t sure how often he would really be able to see her. But I knew he would, and I knew we would find a way. Something told me he would see her every second he could.

  Jonah Hema Collins was no deadbeat.

  Those honey-colored eyes flicked to me for a moment at the end of my thoughts, and the open vulnerability in them shot straight into my heart. “She’ll know, won’t she?”

  A frog magically appeared in my throat, and there was no way I could ever lie to him about that answer. “Yeah. She will, Jonah. She’ll know. We’ll make sure.”

  The last thing I expected was the hand that moved from a small cheek to the hand I had resting on the top of my thigh. Warm, rough fingers slid over my own like it was totally normal. I’d remember the next words out of his mouth every day of my life. I would remember them each time I thought I had no idea what I was doing being a mom. Jonah Collins squeezed my hand. Th
at muscular shoulder rolled upward, and he said, in a rough voice, gripping my fingers tight, “What a gift you’ve given me, Lenny.”

  Chapter 12

  1:55 p.m.

  Wow, seriously.

  Wow: Three months now?

  TEXT ME BACK.

  It’s really important, dipshit.

  Your voice mailbox is still full.

  “What the fuck is he doing?” I asked Peter, who was standing beside me on the outside of the cage, peering at the two fighters in the center too. “Watch his arm, Carlos!”

  “I don’t know,” Peter replied to me a moment before yelling again. “Grab the leg! Grab the leg!”

  He didn’t grab his leg. Or watch his arm.

  I glanced down at my cellphone. Thirty seconds were left before the timer went off, signaling the end of the second round for Carlos’s training session with a fighter who had come to train with Peter for the winter. The guy was a light heavyweight named Sven Andersson from Iceland.

  And he was kicking Carlos’s ass as Peter and I watched him make one stupid mistake after another.

  Rookie mistakes, really. They weren’t even the kinds of mistakes that a person made when they were cocky. He was rushing and being impulsive. They weren’t fighting full-strength, but half or three-quarters could still cause a lot of damage. He was being straight-up stupid.

  “Jesus Christ,” Peter muttered as the Sven guy landed a snap kick to Carlos’s face. He was wearing head protection, but we both jerked our heads back and winced at the sight of his skull taking that kind of impact. He was a douche for ratting me out to Noah—I was pretty sure it was him—but I didn’t want him to get his ass kicked during practice either. Peter and I had made faces at each other over the gap in their weight classes and skill levels, but we’d kept our mouths shut when both of them had insisted they wanted to spar.

  I held my breath as Sven went for a really hard combo that left Carlos off-balance for a moment before they clashed together, grabbing one another. I glanced down at my phone again. Ten seconds left. “He’s not defending against the clinch at all,” I told Peter. “Keep your chin down!”