by Harlow James
As soon as my last class is done, I decide to pick up some pizza on the way home, texting Rachel first to make sure she hasn’t already started cooking something for dinner. Her enthusiastic reply tells me she’s probably exhausted from my son, so I take advantage and make the evening easier on her. Lord knows, the woman has the patience of a saint when it comes to Grayson, so I can only imagine how she feels by the end of the day.
“Daddy! Did you get extra cheese on the pizza?” Grayson shouts as I make my way inside, my arms full of my bag, coat, and pizza boxes. I also picked up a two-liter of Coke since you can’t have pizza without Coke.
“Um, duh! And hello to you too,” I chide as I set everything down on the island, noticing Rachel isn’t in the room. “Where’s Rachel, bud?”
“She’s in the bathroom.” He yells down the hall. “Rachel! You’d better wash your hands!”
“Grayson!” I chastise him just as Rachel comes laughing down the hallway towards us. I stop momentarily to take her in, her face so full of joy as she comes up to my son and starts tickling him.
“I always know to wash my hands. It’s you who needs the reminder sometimes, silly,” she jokes, kissing him on the cheek before standing to meet my eyes. “Hi. How was your day?” She asks so naturally and I swear my heart tumbles a bit between its next two beats. Her face is free of make-up, which rarely catches me off-guard. But it’s the way I memorize her natural beauty in that moment that makes it hard for me to speak. Her hair is in a messy bun, her yoga pants cling to her legs, and her baggy shirt all signal she’s ready to indulge in some pizza and possibly pass out early.
“Um… it was good. Yeah… good.” Smooth, Luke.
She inhales the aroma of garlic and tomatoes, and then moves around me to the food. “Gosh, that smells good. I’ve been craving pizza,” she declares, popping open the box and then snagging a slice, dropping the end in her mouth, and moaning around the bite.
Fuck. Now my dick is awake.
“Rachel! You’d better share!” Grayson shouts, moving around the island and jumping up to take the pizza from her hands.
“Don’t worry, buddy. There’s plenty,” I say, making my way into the kitchen and fetching paper plates for all of us. Rachel fills up two glasses of Coke and water for Grayson and once our plates are full, we take a seat at the table, eating together like we’ve done almost every night since she moved in with us. Grayson tells me about the new friend he made at the park today. Rachel speaks a bit about the phone call she had with her mom, providing me a glimpse of her life in New York that I realize I know nothing about. And before we know it, the pizza is demolished and Grayson lets out a loud burp, making us all breakout in laughter.
“What do you say, bud?” I ask as he continues to giggle next to me.
“Excuse me,” he mimics in a monster-like voice. “Hey, Daddy. Did you know that a burp is like a fart coming out of your mouth?”
I turn to look at Rachel as she just shakes her head and rolls her eyes. “Uh, yeah. That makes sense. Where did you learn about that, bud?” I question as Rachel stands and clears our plates and napkins.
“We watched a video today about it!”
“In my defense,” Rachel chimes in, “it wasn’t the most educational video we’ve seen so far. It started out great, and then the guy turned the table on me before I realized what was happening.”
I raise an eyebrow at her, hoping she clarifies. “Like how?”
“Well, it turned into a video of the guy pranking his buddies. They started burping in each other’s ears and then it progressed to farting,” she whispers, eyeing Grayson in the living room. There’s enough space between us now that he probably can’t hear her anyway.
“Nice,” I laugh. “My son didn’t happen to see that part, did he?”
She shakes her head. “No, I stopped it before the farting stuff.”
“But I take it you watched it?”
She chuckles while covering her mouth in embarrassment, her cheeks turning a lovely shade of pink. “Yeah. I mean, I was kind of curious how much worse it could get,” she admits on a shrug, and then starts rinsing a few dishes left in the sink. “It definitely made me grateful that even though I live with two guys, at least it’s you and Grayson.” With a flash of her radiant smile and a wink, I can’t help the feeling of pride that rushes through me.
“Hey, stopping washing dishes. That’s my job.” Coming around the island, I reach for the dish in her hand as her other palm closes over it. Her head pops up at the same time mine does, and I swear I hear her breath hitch. This isn’t the first time we’ve touched, but it is the first time I feel like my entire body gets hot almost instantly. I can smell her, that fruity scent mixed with mint that leaves a trail every time she walks past me in the house. I can see the dark lines in those bright green eyes from how close we are, the closest I think we’ve ever been to each other at this point—and that’s what is warranting my reaction right now. I’m mere inches from Rachel’s face and the only thing going through my mind at this moment is wondering what she tastes like, wondering what she would do if I kissed her right now. As if she can sense my war on cue, she gently drops the dish and steps away.
“Uh, yeah. You’re right. Grayson!” She calls to him as he sits on the living room floor, building something with Legos, his favorite pastime besides studying what weird things the body does. “It’s bath time, honey.”
“Yay! Can I play with that new bath paint?”
“Yes! Absolutely. But you have to show me your best painting.” I watch her walk away from me down the hall, following Grayson into the bathroom, the sway of her hips hypnotizing me before I snap out of it and process what just happened.
I wanted to kiss Rachel. It’s not like the thought hadn’t graced my mind before, but that was the first time I felt the desire to act on it. My pulse is still firing rapidly in my body while I scrub the few dishes in the sink and load them into the dishwasher.
What would she have done? Would she have pushed me away, or would she have welcomed it like I sensed she wanted it as badly as I do? Does Rachel think of me the same way I do of her? I realize at that second that I’m not sure how Rachel feels about me, in a non-platonic way of course. Does she find me attractive? Does she look forward to seeing me when I come home from work? Does she recall the shower incident every night when she goes to sleep like I do, pleasuring herself to the image of my cock that I know she got an eye of that morning? Can I safely admit now that I gave in and jerked myself off in the shower a few days after it happened—the image of her naked, standing there on the rug with the towel hanging from her hands engrained in mind as I rubbed my hand up and down my length. The guilt that I felt after subsided when I finally felt tension leave my body that I didn’t realize I was harboring.
I finish cleaning the kitchen and living room as Grayson gets dressed, and then I put him to bed. Admiring his sweet face and body that gets bigger every day, I slowly shut the door and then make my way to the couch, where Rachel is already snuggled into the corner, blanket over her feet, wineglass in hand, and a re-run of Friends on the television.
“I feel like you’re becoming extremely predictable,” I tease her as I take a seat next to her, not too close, but close enough that her body spray hits my nose again. “Every night when I put him to sleep, I know this is the image I can expect to see when I make my way back down the hall. Except for the nights you work at Tony’s, that is.”
“Me? Predictable? This coming from the guy that literally does the same thing every day and finds contentment in that? I bet I could recite your entire routine to you right now and get a perfect score.”
“Hey. I thought we agreed I’m learning to have fun? Aren’t we going to the aquarium tomorrow?”
She huffs and then takes a sip from her glass. “That’s not the fun I was talking about, Luke. That involves Grayson again,” she says as she bops me on the nose. And before I realize what I’m doing, I react, reaching out and grabbing her wrist b
efore she moves it away.
“What… what are you doing?” She whispers, her eyes alive with uncertainty, her body tense, her breaths short and loud. I wonder if she can hear my heart pounding in my chest right now, the rush of adrenaline coursing through me as our eyes lock and the thud of my heart shakes my entire body.
“I can be fun. Spontaneous even,” I growl in a tone low and deep so she can sense how serious I am. I can’t help it. I want her. She’s tempting me even more with each passing day and I know so many things could go wrong, but the reward of her lips touching mine is something I’m starting to crave.
“How so? Show me,” she challenges, the fierce tone in her voice so apparent, it makes my pants grow tighter in the crotch.
Our eyes bounce back and forth, reading each other, waiting for someone to make a move. And when I finally feel the push and start to close the distance, the sound of a door opening makes me freeze and instantly drop Rachel’s wrist from my hand.
“Daddy?” Grayson mumbles as I turn to face him, rubbing his eye with one hand as if he’d actually fallen asleep in the few short minutes that had passed since I tucked him in.
“Yeah, bud?” I manage to say as I feel Rachel move on the couch behind me, the thumping of my heart pounding so violently I feel like the couch is shaking.
Grayson stands there, assessing the situation, noticing us sitting together on the couch, his eyes moving back and forth between Rachel’s face and my own. Finally, after what seems like ages, he speaks.
“What does a fart look like?”
I hear Rachel snort behind me as I break out in laughter. “What?”
“What does a fart look like, Daddy?” His head tilts to the side, showcasing that inquisitive nature of my son that I appreciate more with each passing day.
Rachel’s laugh grows louder as I feel her stand from the couch. “That’s a great question, honey. Why don’t we look that up in the morning, okay?” She smiles, fighting off another fit of laughter as I remain in my same spot, baffled by the way my son’s mind works.
“Okay. Goodnight, Daddy,” Grayson calls to me as Rachel takes him back to his room and I stare at the TV, ruminating over the fact that I almost kissed Rachel and my son interrupted us.
“Goodnight, Grayson,” I call out after them, not moving an inch from where I stare off into space. In the name of looking for signs, I’d say that was a loud one. Kissing Rachel would alter everything about our arrangement, and I just don’t know enough about what she’s feeling to go there. I mean, she seemed like she was waiting for me to move closer, the way her body became rigid could have been a response of anticipation—or it could have been her bracing herself for something she didn’t want.
“Fuck,” I mutter, standing from the couch and making my way back to my room, resolving to avoid the awkward moment when she returned to the living room and we’d have to acknowledge what just almost happened. I know it’s the coward’s way out, but at least I can pretend everything is fine in the morning and go back to normal, and not risk having a conversation that could only make things worse. I change into some flannel pants, leaving my torso bare as I lie down in bed and stare at the ceiling, one hand poised behind my head, contemplating how much has changed in the last two months.
I made it my goal when Hannah died to create a life that would be predictable, free of the possibilities of something else upending it and turning it upside down yet again.
But then I changed my career, my mom got hurt, and I hired a nanny—a woman who has opened up a part of me I shut tight when I lost my wife. It’s like the gates inside my chest that house that part of my soul are being shaken and slowly opened, revealing a light through the crack that is making things bright and visible for the first time in years. It’s terrifying but enlivening. And yet, I don’t know what waits on the other side of those gates. And until I do, I know I need to keep that crack from getting bigger.
Chapter 11
Rachel
“Pfeiffer… you look so gorgeous, girl.” Wetness pools in my eyes as I observe her while waiting in the car with her father and Jess in the parking lot of the town hall.
Today is Cash and Pfeiffer’s wedding. The spring afternoon is perfect for the ceremony taking place in front of the fence decorated with locks located deep within the park—a symbol and important place from the beginning of their story. Afterwards, we’ll all head back to their house, where their backyard has been transformed into a party space to celebrate the bride and groom.
“Thank you, Rach. I’m so glad you’re here. I couldn’t imagine my wedding day without you.” Her lips tremble through her smile as she dabs her eyes with a tissue. “And you too, Jess. I just can’t believe I get to marry him.”
“He’s a good man, darling,” her father chimes in, basking in the vision of his daughter dressed in white. Pfeiffer’s dress is stunning—form-fitting with a sweetheart neckline, beading that sparkles in the sunlight, and a simple band of diamonds around the waist. A matching headband keeps her hair off of her face, but her long locks are curled and flowing under her veil.
“I love him so much. I didn’t know it was possible to love someone as much as I love him.”
“He’s a lucky guy, Piper,” Jess adds. “You two are meant to be. I think everyone can see that.”
“Is it almost time? I can’t wait to see him,” she beams just as there’s a knock on the car window. I push the lever to lower the glass, granting me the sight of Luke and Cooper, dressed head to toe in navy suits.
“Are you guys ready to get the show on the road?” Cooper asks behind Luke. But I can’t focus on what he’s saying because the man standing in front of me is taking my breath away.
I’ve seen Luke in suits before, obviously since he dresses for work professionally each week. But this is different. This is him decked out in clothing that was made for his body, hugging his broad shoulders and chest, highlighting his muscles. His scruff is trimmed neatly and his hair styled to perfection. The messy coffee-colored strands are asking me to run my fingers through them, just as I’ve noticed he does in frustration. But I don’t just want to mess them up. No. I want to tug and pull and rub my hands along his neck as he kisses me passionately and steals the oxygen from my lungs.
“Earth to Rachel…” Cooper speaks, pulling me out of my daydream of making out with Luke as Jess chuckles behind me.
“Uh, sorry. Yes, we’re ready.”
“Rachel!” A miniature voice pulls my eyes down to the miniature person it belongs to. “Look at my suit! Daddy says I look handsome.”
“You do, Grayson! You look so handsome! Are you ready to walk the rings down the aisle? It’s a super important job.” Thank goodness for this kid, granting me the necessary distraction so I can stop ogling his father.
“Yes. I am going to be the bestest ring bearer ever!”
“That’s why we hired you, Grayson,” Pfeiffer says behind me as I open the door and step down from the car.
“Here, let me help you.” Luke offers me his hand, holding me steady as I find my footing on my heels. My eyes lift from the ground to his face and I swear, I see heat there. Ever since Luke almost kissed me last weekend, there’s been a lust-filled shadow following us around. We don’t speak about it, but I know he senses it too. The day after the almost kiss, we spent the morning at the aquarium with his parents. It was the first time I met his mom and dad, and I was instantly enamored with them. It was clear where Luke got his manners and good looks from, his father just a greyer version of the man standing in front of me.
But it wasn’t just spending time with them and being immersed in his family that made me crave Luke more. It was the conversation I had with his mother that ignited something in me to press him further.
“You’re good for him,” Catherine speaks, rolling up next to me at the sea turtle exhibit on her motorized scooter. The woman is recovering from hip surgery and walked for a while, but ultimately had to rest.
“Excuse me? Oh, you mean Grayso
n?” I smile as my heart picks up in my chest.
“Yes, Grayson, obviously. But not just my grandson. No… you’re good for my son too.” Her eyes tell me more than what she said with those words, but I decide not to read too much into it.
“Well, he’s been an amazing boss. He trusted me with his son, which I know wasn’t easy for him. And he gave me a place to live. I’ll forever be grateful to him for that.”
She shakes her head. “No. I mean you’re good for him,” she accentuates the last word and lifts her eyebrows. Now I know she is conveying something else.
“I’m sorry. But I think you’re getting the wrong idea…” I try to deny her, but I can’t tame the glimmer of hope that she sees what I’m starting to feel.
“No. I’m not. I know my son. He hasn’t been the same since he lost his wife. But since you came along, it’s like I’m seeing the version of my boy that I thought we’d lost forever. You’re good for him. And if the way he looks at you is any indication, I’d say he knows it.”
“But…”
She cuts me off. “No buts. You are the person he’s been waiting for, even if he doesn’t realize it. You love Grayson like he’s your own child and you compliment him, make him smile and laugh. I never thought I’d see those things from him again, let alone with another woman.”
I stare directly into her eyes, feeling mine water as she watches me. “I really care about him,” I finally say, keeping my voice as steady as possible.
“I know you do. Just be patient with him, Rachel. He will come around. If there’s anything I know about my son, it’s that he’s stubborn, convinced he’s meant to walk this earth alone for the rest of his life. But you are bringing him back to life. You’re reviving him. Be patient, and he’ll find his way to you.”
Just as I prepare to respond to her, Grayson runs up next to us, and ends our conversation—if you can even call it that, seeing as how I didn’t do much of the talking.
