Story of Us

by Jody Holford

  Sophia accepted the water with a murmured thank-you as the receptionist slipped away and the other women stopped in front of them.

  “You are here for a couples pedicure,” the older woman said with a voice so gruff, Sophia couldn’t decide if it was an accent or just how she sounded.

  Declan shifted in his seat and smiled at the women. “Actually, I booked the couples massage room, but only my girl here is getting a pedicure.”

  His girl? Sophia’s heart went squishy and weak at those words. She tried to shore up her defenses, but seriously, the man was going to pay someone to pamper her and he called her his girl? She was only human. Carrying another human. Remember you’re a package deal now. It was no longer something that drifted around in the back of her mind like a dream she couldn’t quite remember.

  “Couples room, two aestheticians, two pedicures.” The woman crossed her considerably wide arms over her ample chest.

  The younger woman, whose hair was in a tight braid resting on her shoulder, smiled in agreement.

  “I’ll pay for two, but we just need one.”

  Sophia frowned. “You can’t pay for two. That’s a waste of money.”

  “One treatment, one room. Couples room, two treatments. It’s policy,” the woman said.

  Sophia’s stomach twisted. “We can do something else,” she whispered.

  Declan looked at her and then at the two women. “How about one room for her and I just keep her company?”

  “You booked for two. One room, one person. Policy,” the woman repeated. Wow. She was not budging on this.

  Declan stood and pulled Sophia with him. She didn’t want to be disappointed, but a pedicure sounded like heaven. Mostly, the pregnancy hadn’t been too hard on her, but her feet felt a tad swollen, and her lower back bothered her frequently, sometimes her hips as well. You can’t actually expect Declan to get pampered like a princess at a spa. That’s asking a bit too much. It was. The fact that he’d even thought of something so sweet was enough to squeeze her fragile heart back to life.

  “Dec. It’s fine,” Sophia said.

  He looked down at her with a confused expression, then faced the women, his brows furrowing. “I am not getting polish. I don’t care what the damn policy is.”

  The younger woman’s lips trembled with the effort not to laugh, and she tucked her chin, hiding her face. The older woman nodded, satisfaction shining in her dark eyes.

  Sophia looked up at Declan as the women walked down the corridor.

  “We need to follow them, babe,” he said. He used the term of endearment as if they’d been together for years. People in the serving industry often used endearments—“hon,” “honey,” “sweetie,” and Declan was no different, but he didn’t address any of his other staff or his friends’ significant others as babe. It’s like he’d reserved it just for…someone special. Just her?

  “This is the best date ever,” she whispered, going up on tiptoe to kiss him soft and light. He smelled so good she wanted to burrow in and run her hands over his cheeks.

  “It’s barely started,” he said, his eyes glowing with affection.

  “Best. Ever.”

  She tugged on his hand, and they went to the couples massage room.

  Sophia did her best not to make sex noises while the younger of the women massaged a sugar scrub into the arches of her feet. When she opened her eyes and let her head loll to the side, she saw Declan had a deep frown tugging his lips down. His brows were scrunched, and a little line dented his forehead. Sitting in the padded massage chair, he looked like Goldilocks sitting on Baby Bear’s chair, and it made her giggle. He glanced over, still scowling.

  “Are you okay?” She whispered the words.

  He winced, and his aesthetician snickered. He turned that hard look on her when she met Sophia’s gaze.

  “He’s fine. Big boy is ticklish.”

  Sophia couldn’t bite back the laughter, and the woman rubbing her feet—Estelle—paused to join in.

  Declan did not. “Think that’s funny, do you?”

  Sophia pulled her bottom lip between her teeth and pressed down with her teeth, trying to stop the laughter as she shook her head side to side.

  Just a hint of a grin twisted Declan’s mouth. “Uh-huh. Don’t ever play poker, Sophe.”

  All three women laughed again. Picking up the polish selection, Sophia flipped through, unsure of which to choose. No one saw her toes anyway. Soon, she wouldn’t even be able to see them. But still, she wanted something…light and playful.

  She vacillated between Passion Pink and Playful Plum.

  “Let’s see,” Dec said, leaning to the side so he could.

  She showed him the two she was considering, and he considered only a second before his gaze locked on hers. “Passion Pink. Pink is sexy and with your skin tone? Definitely.”

  Heat suffused her skin, and he hadn’t even done anything. They were just words. Hell, it was just a suggestion. But the way he was looking at her—he didn’t see someone’s daughter or sister. He wasn’t looking at her like a coworker, a screw-up, an old family friend. No. That look was straight up I-want-you lust. What really dug in and twisted her heart, though, was the added layer of affection.

  She passed the palette of colors to Estelle, and her voice came out rough when she said, “Pink, please.”

  After the pedicures, no polish for Declan, they headed back to his place. While she didn’t mind—she loved his house and actually missed it a little, despite liking her new space—she was surprised. Part of her had thought he’d take her to some fancy restaurant and try to romance her. Not that he hadn’t already hit a home run with the pedicure. He turned to her as he parked in his driveway.

  “When I date, we typically have dinner. Maybe some drinks. Sometimes neither.”

  Undoing her seatbelt, she held up a hand. “I do not need the details.”

  He took her hand and pulled it to his lips, pressing them to the inside of her wrist. “No details. Just telling you that the reason I brought you here instead of taking you out to dinner is because there’s nothing typical about you, Sophe. You’re different in every way. Other than my friends’ women, no other woman has been here.”

  She met his gaze in the lit cab of his truck. “You told me. You’ve definitely gone out of your way to make me feel special.” Her heart picked up its pace, settling into a hard jog.

  Declan reached out and grazed her cheek with two knuckles. “You are special.”

  Blinking back the emotion that welled up in her throat, she nodded. “And hungry.”

  Declan laughed. “Then let’s get you fed. Stay there.”

  He came around the vehicle and opened the door for her, taking her hand and holding it as they went up the steps. When they got into the house, he took her jacket, and even though they were just going through routine steps, removing shoes, hanging coats, the air was charged. Heavy. Electric.

  “Garrett and Parks helped me out a bit for tonight,” Declan said, taking her hand again and leading her to the kitchen.

  Sophia stopped, gaining Dec’s attention. He looked back at her—she felt his gaze. The table was covered by a white linen cloth, a vase of a wide-petaled flower she couldn’t name sat in the center, two long, tapered candles in silver holders on either side.

  Tears pushed, and Sophia tried to swallow them down. Not used to her emotions being so close to the surface, she tried to breathe through the moment.

  Declan turned so he was standing in front of her and tipped her chin up. “What’s wrong?”

  Setting her hands on his chest, she looked down, focused her gaze there, trying to rein in the tsunami of want rioting in her chest. “Nothing. At all. I’m just not sure how I’m supposed to stop myself from falling for you when you’re not only gorgeous and sexy, but funny and so damn sweet it flattens me.”

  Again, he nudged her chin so she looked at him. “How about you don’t try to fight it and just let yourself feel?”

  Her breath hitch
ed. “That hasn’t worked out so well for me. In the past—”

  “Don’t need details,” he interrupted. “Just you and me, Sophe. That’s all that matters.”

  Reality crashed in, stealing her breath entirely. “But that’s not exactly true.”

  Declan’s eyes darkened, and her heart just about flatlined when one of his large hands covered her belly with the utmost gentleness.

  “No. You’re right. Then, just us.”

  She felt her heart soften and sigh. Going up on tiptoe, Sophia crushed her mouth to his because she didn’t know how else to handle the feelings swooping down on her from all sides. No one made her feel like Declan did. There was a lot in this life she hadn’t seen coming, hadn’t expected. But nothing…absolutely nothing…could have prepared her for the full effect of Declan James.

  And since she didn’t know what to do with all of the questions, uncertainties, and insecurities that weighed her down like an anchor, she gave up and let herself follow his advice. She let herself feel. And nothing has felt as good as him.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Maybe she should be thanking Declan instead of worrying about falling too hard for him. If not for the way he made her feel like she mattered, like she really belonged at least, with him, then she probably would have talked herself out of showing up at her sister’s. He’d texted and called, but she needed to face her sister’s family without relying on his voice to give her that final nudge. She needed to know she could stand on her own two feet. For her and the baby. Once again, she stood in front of a door, willing herself to knock.

  Her stomach rolled uneasily, and she wanted to blame the pregnancy, but the truth was, she felt good. The changes in her body weren’t overwhelming. The first pregnancy book she’d read had scared the hell out of her, and she’d been sure by week five she’d spend all her time puking with sore boobs. But so far, she felt good. Her jeans were too tight to be comfortable, and she didn’t want anything to do with peanut butter or eggs, which she normally loved, and her hips ached frequently, but other than that, the pregnancy wasn’t wrecking her. Physically, at least. She wasn’t ready to think about the birth or the actual bringing-a-baby-home stage.

  Knock on the damn door. Happy shouting could be heard through the door. It made her smile. How long had it been since she’d done this? Not since she was eighteen. A small piece of her wished Declan was at her side. Or some other barrier to cushion the blows that she fully expected. Don’t be like that. It’s just Rosie and her family. Rapping her knuckles against the wood, she was just wondering if she should ring the doorbell when it was flung open.

  “Auntie Sophia!” Elijah, Viola’s six-year-old son, launched himself at her. Maybe Rosie invited the other kids? Her heart hiccupped. Rosemary wouldn’t ambush her. Would she? She’d brought candy bars for each of the kids, but it looked like she wouldn’t need to bribe them for attention. She spoke with the kids about once a month. Despite her mother and father’s insistence that she’d all but disappeared, she did work to stay in touch. But it was hard keeping up with four households when only Marcus returned the gesture.

  “Hey. Who are you?”

  Elijah giggled and looked up at her. “It’s me. Elijah.”

  Sophia stepped through the threshold and shut the door, then squinted at him. “No way. Elijah is only six. You’re what? Fifteen?”

  He giggled again, as if she was the funniest person ever. Twin girls, her nieces, Kirby and Lindsey, rounded the corner from the kitchen and squealed in delight. They were four and had the trademark long dark hair that the Strombi women were proud of. Both girls rushed her legs, and Sophia’s heart overfilled with contentment. Kids didn’t judge. And you’re going to have your own who will love you unconditionally. The idea of her child one day feeling like she did right now, a stranger in her own family, put a clutch in her breath.

  Sophia’s heart stuttered along with her breathing when Rosemary and Gavin, followed by Marcus’s wife, Michelle, joined them in the foyer. The flowers she forgot she held were taken, her jacket was hung. Hugs and kisses were given and received. Marcus’s son, Nic, who was taller than Sophia now, came around the corner. When he’d been born, Sophia had been the first one other than Marcus and Michelle to hold him. You haven’t missed everything.

  “You look beautiful,” Gavin said, pulling her into a hard, brotherly hug after the others had their turn.

  “I’ve missed you guys.” She went up on tiptoe and whispered, “Is everyone here?” God. She was going to kill her sister.

  Gavin held her a fraction tighter. “Not Marcus. Just breathe, belleza. You’ve got this.”

  Yup. She was going to dole out a slow, painful payback. Like he could sense her thoughts, Gavin whispered, “Don’t be mad. Rosie just wants everyone to be together.”

  Her siblings had all married great people. Sophia tried to picture Keith at a gathering like this one. Funny, she’d never imagined him here before, but now she knew he wouldn’t have fit. His polished shoes and name-brand suits were worn with the intention of gaining attention. When they’d go out for dinner, he’d put more effort into his appearance than she did. It hadn’t bothered her at the time.

  “Let her come in,” Viola said.

  She exchanged brief, awkward hugs with her parents, biting her tongue when they said she looked tired and too thin. Give me a few months and I’ll fix that.

  The house already smelled delicious, and as they walked past the kitchen, Sophia poked her head in, determined to pretend she could do this.

  “Need me to taste anything?” Her stomach growled at just that moment, making Kirby laugh and wrap her little arms around her leg.

  “I think we’re good. We’ll eat soon,” Vi said.

  The living room needed some updates. The paint had faded, and the carpet could use replacing. The large picture window looked out onto the neighboring homes. Sophia wandered closer to the wide wood mantel and smiled at the succession of pictures. She’d seen many of them on Facebook or via text, but it was still fun to see them all together.

  Her family talked and joked and laughed, and for a minute, she just stood there and took it all in. Lia, Marcus and Michelle’s daughter, sat on the arm of the couch, close to the mantel.

  “I love your hair,” Sophia said. It was shaved on one side and long on the other.

  Lia scrunched her brows at Sophia, and she wondered if she’d broken some code of teenage etiquette she had no clue about.

  “For real?” Lia asked finally.

  Sophia laughed. “Yes, for real. It looks cool.”

  “My dad hates it.” Lia said the words in such a grumbly, mumbled tone that Sophia had to bite back her smile.

  “Dads are supposed to. I tried to dye mine purple with Kool-Aid when I was twelve. Your dad totally ratted me out.”

  Lia shifted, turned her body toward Sophia, and smiled, her eyes dancing. “He would. Did he ever do anything crazy like shave his head?”

  Sophia set her purse on the floor beside the couch and sat on the other side of Lia. “Your dad was a rule follower. Your Auntie Vi was the rule breaker. And Aunt Rosie was the peacekeeper.”

  The others tuned in to the conversation. “What were you, Auntie Sophe?” Elijah asked.

  Sophia batted her lashes. “An angel.”

  Her father snorted, not meeting her gaze. Her mother shook her head, a small smile playing on her lips, and Sophia’s heart lightened just a little.

  Viola squeezed herself onto the couch in between Sophia and their mom. “Yeah. An angel in devil’s clothing.”

  Sophia bumped her shoulder against Vi’s. “I was entertaining at least.”

  “Your aunt was a tagalong,” her dad said.

  Sophia met her father’s gaze. It was clouded and hard to read, especially with the hard set of his jaw. They were all trying. She could do this. She’d known it wouldn’t be easy to pave the road back to them, so she should be thankful that Rosemary had forced her hand. This was good. Better than she could hav
e hoped for.

  “What’s a taglong?” Lindsey asked. She crawled up onto her nonno’s lap.

  Sophia’s heart constricted tightly as her niece cuddled into her father’s arms. She wanted her own child to have what her nieces and nephews had. Deep down, she knew, when she told them, they’d be there for the baby, even if they weren’t happy with her decisions.

  “A tagalong is someone who follows after. Like you and Kirby, she always wanted to do what the big kids were doing,” her dad said. His eyes held hers. “Until one day, she didn’t. She only wanted to do her own thing.”

  “I’m a big kid,” Kirby argued, looking up from an iPad she held in her lap.

  “No. I’m a big kid,” Nic said.

  Sophia glanced at her nephew. “You’re definitely a tall kid. You sprouted like eight inches this year.”

  His chest puffed up, making everyone laugh.

  “He has a girlfriend,” Elijah said.

  Nic’s tanned cheeks pinked, and he threw a pillow at his cousin.

  Michelle laughed and winked at Sophia then leaned close and gave her a hard, long hug. “I’ve missed you.”

  Marcus and Michelle had married immediately out of high school and had Nic the following year. They were high school sweethearts, so Sophia had already considered her a sister by the time they made things official.

  “Marcus at the restaurant?” Someone had to be.

  Michelle’s long curly hair tickled Sophia’s arms. “He is. Give it time, hon. You’ll get there. This is the first step. We’re happy you’re home.”

  When she looked at her parents, she saw them watching her. They looked especially guarded, but maybe she wasn’t being fair. She told herself she had nowhere to belong, but she was sitting in this home, surrounded by love. Just because they were mad didn’t mean they’d turned their backs on her. Declan was right—they loved her, and they wanted her here.