by Lacey Black
“Are you feeling better?” he asks after a few more moments of quiet.
“I think so. I can’t believe I had that attack. I’m sorry to call you on a Sunday evening. You were probably getting Max ready for bed or something.”
I can hear him get up from the table and turn on the faucet. “You’re fine. He fell asleep during the third inning of the Rangers game. I had just got him settled into bed when you called.”
“Well, I’m thankful I didn’t wake him.”
“Kate?”
“Yeah.”
“You can call me any time you need help, okay? When you have an attack or just need someone to talk to, I’ll answer.”
My heart pounds in my chest. “Are you sure that’s wise, you know, considering everything?”
Jensen sighs. “Probably not, but I don’t give a shit. We weren’t exactly a conventional couple back in the day, so there’s no reason to start that shit now. I’ll always be your friend, Kate. If you need something, I’m here.”
“Thank you,” I whisper hoarsely, his words pulling so much emotion from my body. “I appreciate that. I haven’t exactly had a lot of friends.”
“Well, you’ve got me, okay?”
“Okay,” I reply, not really knowing if that’s a good idea or not, but I won’t turn away the chance at rebuilding the broken friendship we used to share. Even if all we’ll ever be is a fraction of that bond.
“All right, Butterfly, up off the floor and close the door behind you. You can try to go in that room another day. What’s on the agenda for the rest of the evening?” he asks casually. You know, like friends do.
“Actually, I’m going to have a bath. I brought some of my favorite products with me from New York. Ever since I knew I was moving back home, I could picture that big claw-foot tub I used to love to soak in. I think tonight, of all nights, it’s calling my name.” Jensen makes a strangled sound on the other end of the line and the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. “What? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” he insists, clearing his throat.
“Obviously, it’s something. You just sounded like you were choking. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, Kate. Just fine,” he repeats, the words tight and full of tension.
“I don’t believe you. Just say it,” I insist.
“I shouldn’t.”
“You should.”
“Drop it, Kate,” he groans, as if in pain.
“No, I won’t. If something’s wrong, just tell me.”
“You don’t want to know,” he argues.
“I do! Say it.”
He huffs out a choppy breath. “Fine, do you want to know what’s wrong? I was picturing you in the bathtub, naked and wet and all sudsy and now my pants are so tight they hurt.”
The words he said register, but not completely. It takes a full ten seconds or so to really catch my brain up on the fact Jensen is…hard. And thinking about me, in the bathtub. My mouth goes completely dry and my heart rate spikes, and it has nothing to do with the residual effects of my earlier panic attack.
“You’re… um… wow…”
That’s all I got.
“Yeah,” he says. “Now do you see why I didn’t want to say anything?” he huffs.
A blush burns up my neck and settles on my cheeks. “Well, I do apologize for causing you some… discomfort. That was not my intention when I mentioned a bath.”
Jensen is quiet for a few moments before whispering, “Do you remember the night your parents went out to that Save the Whales fundraiser at the museum? You gave me a key the day before at school. I told my mom I was headed to Garrett’s house to watch the football game, which is actually quite humorous because the Broncos don’t play on Saturday nights.
“Anyway, I went to your house and climbed up the stairs to the second floor. Where did I find you, Butterfly?”
I know exactly what memory he was talking about the moment he started his story, so it’s easy for me to answer his question. “You found me in the bathtub.”
“I did. You were naked and touching yourself.”
“Only because I knew you were about to step into the bathroom. I had been waiting for you.”
Jensen growls, a low noise that goes straight to my lady parts. “We…” he starts before clearing his throat. “We shouldn’t talk about this.”
I shake my head, agreeing. This is definitely not a trip down memory lane either one of us needs to be taking right now. “No, definitely not.” Saying it aloud doesn’t ebb the ache I suddenly feel between my thighs.
Jensen clears his throat again. “Good night, Kate.” The words come out all gravelly and hoarse.
“Good night, Jensen,” I whisper in a voice that doesn’t even sound like mine.
Then, I hang up, even though I don’t really want to, already knowing there’s only one man I’ll be thinking about when I touch myself in bed later tonight.
Chapter Nine
Jensen
Ashley was waiting at the door when I dropped off Max, and I could feel the frigid cold front even before I stepped inside the house. Apparently, she’s still pissed as hell. While I’d much rather forget all about her attempt to seduce me back into our former marital bed, she’s chosen a different path. This one will involve her throwing anger and guilt trips my way for the unforeseeable future.
Good times.
“Good morning,” I say politely, but she completely ignores me.
“Hi, Maxie. How’s my boy? Did you have a good weekend?”
“Duh best! We played baseball! And I found treasure,” he adds with excitement, digging in his pocket for the four quarters he put there after he got dressed this morning.
“Treasure?” she asks, a giggle spilling from her lips that grates on my nerves. “Let me see.” Max places his four prized quarters in her hand. After a few seconds of examining them, she wrinkles her nose and says, “These are just regular quarters.”
I want to thump her upside the head.
“Nope, they’re treasure from Kate’s yard! I dugged them up with Daddy’s shovel.”
Fuck.
Ashley tenses before handing the quarters back to our son. “Kate?” she asks, her wide eyes never leaving our son’s, even though I can feel the wrath building behind those big eyes.
“She lives in the big house. We dugged in her yard and found them,” Max says casually, putting his treasure back in his pocket.
“Dug them,” I correct my son before adding, “Why don’t you run to your room and put your clothes and stuff away. Take the money out of your pocket and put it on your nightstand so it doesn’t end up in the wash.”
“Okay! Bye, Daddy! See you tomorrow,” he says, throwing his arms around my legs and hugging me tight.
“Bye, Buddy. I’ll see you at the school.” Tomorrow is Max’s first day of four and five-year-old preschool. Even though it’s Ashley’s day with him, I’ll be meeting them at the school and walking him in.
When his hurried feet disappear into his room, I turn my attention to my ex-wife. Her eyes are full of fire and I can already tell she’s gunning for a fight. Instantly, I can tell this isn’t going to end well. While Ashley no longer has a voice in what happens in my personal life, we’ve always tried to understand anything involving our son would require transparency on our parts. When she dates, she tells me. That could be to try to make me jealous or simply because we both want to know who’s going to be hanging around Max, but either way, we try to be as transparent as possible.
Of course, I have yet to date since the divorce, but whatever. The one time I tried didn’t go so well. The woman my sister, Harper, set me up with was nice and all, but I could tell the moment she walked in it wasn’t going to be a comfortable evening.
“Kate?” Ashley asks, her voice dangerously close to a high-pitched shriek.
“The new client. Max and I stopped by the house yesterday to pick up some paperwork. While I was on the phone, the homeowner took him over and helped him dig in
the yard. No big deal,” I reason, knowing full well she’s not going to let my explanation slide.
“Where does this client live?” she asks, crossing her arms over her chest and throwing some serious eye-daggers my way, killing me multiple times in just a fraction of second.
And here we go…
“I’m not fighting with you, Ashley. I have to get to work,” I reply, avoiding her question entirely. I know the moment I confirm what she suspects, our cordial relationship is out the fucking window. “You look nice, by the way. Have a good day at work.”
Then, I hightail it out of there so fast, you’d think my ass was on fire.
I know this isn’t the end of it. The compliment may have been a last-ditch effort at peace before the war breaks out. She won’t let this drop for a second. I just pray she doesn’t give Max a hard time when she discovers the woman we spent part of the afternoon with—the same woman who shared dinner with us Friday night—is the very one who stole my heart when I was sixteen and never really gave it back.
Fun times for all.
* * *
It’s not a fun afternoon, that’s for sure. Our large mower took a crap and the new parts weren’t in stock at the tractor supply store. It’ll take forty-eight to seventy-two hours just to get them in and then another day for the shop to put them on. The delay put Jonas a few hours behind and it was only worse once I ran one of the smaller back-up mowers to his location to finish the job.
The plants started to arrive today, which would normally put a smile on my face. However, when the North Pole Arborvitae arrived instead of the Stewartsonian Azaleas, I knew my afternoon was truly fucked.
After a quick call to the nursery where I purchase all of my product, I try to wrap my mind around the layout and design, wondering if I can incorporate the shrubbery that arrived into the scheme. The North Pole Arborvitae is a hearty, fast-growing plant that will work well in most conditions. They require some regular pruning to keep their shape, and they’re perfect for privacy.
“You look to be in deep thought.” Her voice filters over the distant sound of the ocean, and the sawing on the back patio, soft and tranquil.
My eyes connect with hers and my heart rate kicks up a few hundred beats. Will I ever not feel something when I look at her? This gut-clenching desire that swirls in my belly and thunders through my veins like an approaching tornado?
Probably not.
“Sorry, I was,” I respond, glancing back out at the backyard.
“Problems?” she asks, coming to stand beside me.
Normally, I wouldn’t bother to discuss the issue with the homeowner. I’d tell the nursery to send the right shit, and that’s that. But something pulls deep inside me, begging to tell her all about my day. My soul calls to her, just as much as it did every day all those years ago, and I don’t know what to do with that.
I know I should excuse myself to deal with the shrubbery mess. I know I need a little distance between the sweet honeysuckle permeating from her skin and the salt in the air. I know I shouldn’t open my mouth and tell her all about my shit day, but even knowing all of that, it doesn’t stop my lips from moving before my brain has a chance to catch up.
“The wrong shrubs arrived today. I can’t use them for what I had planned around the patio.”
“Can you send them back?” she asks.
Nodding, I confirm. “Yeah, I can. They’re really nice bushes, but not what I envisioned in the space. Since they’re already dug up, they’ll have to try to sell them right away, but that’s not really my problem.” I shove my hands into the pockets of my blue jeans and gaze back out at the vast yard.
“Can you incorporate them somewhere else?” she asks, bringing a voice to what I’ve already wondered.
“I don’t know.”
I hear her walk off, but keep my gaze on the new seating area we’re building at the back of the property. The last thing I need is to have a problem with my dick perking up at the sight of her ass. It was hard enough (pun intended) after our phone call last night. So hard, in fact, it took two showers to relieve the ache I had in my balls. Just the thought of her in that damn bathtub was enough to send every ounce of blood I possess to one concentrated area.
Stepping toward the sitting area, my mind starts to picture the new space we’re creating. I want to give her privacy from those in the water, yet award her a great view of the ocean at the same time. Not as easily done as it is said, considering you can’t see through shrubbery.
Unless…
“What are you thinking?” she whispers, coming to stand beside me, the softness of her arm brushing against mine.
“What if we plant the bushes here,” I say, drawing an imaginary line with my hand that runs the complete northeast side of the new space. “It will create a wall, of sorts, between your property and the neighbors.” There’s already plenty of space between the Elliott mansion and the much smaller house to the north, but it would create a little more privacy when said neighbors come down to the beach.
“Keep talking,” she encourages.
“I’m thinking if we plant them along this property line, you’ll have a little privacy in your new seating area, while still giving you the unobstructed view of the ocean. We’ll keep those shorter shrubs over here,” I add, motioning to the place where the yard meets the beach. “This way, you can still watch the waves. Plus, I’m creating a walkway that’ll worm through this part here. I think it’ll be the perfect private oasis for you.”
Excitement courses through my blood as I take in the slightly altered picture I’ve created in my mind. Yes, I think this will work. Kate still gets the private area she was looking for, and I can use the plants the nursery accidentally delivered. It’s a win-win. Especially if I get the product at a considerable discount, which I’m sure I can arrange, considering they won’t have to try to sell them quickly on clearance.
“I love it.” Her words are a balm to the very pain I carry deep down in my soul.
Turning back to face her, a smile plays on her lips, matching the one on my own. “Okay, I’ll make the adjustments and call the nursery,” I tell her, reaching for my cell phone to let them know of the change in plans. I’ll still use the gorgeous flowering shrub they’ll deliver tomorrow, but I’ll be able to use the wrong ones too.
I glance around, the itch to dig tingling up my spine. Everyone is gone for the day, including the other contractors. “Would it be all right if I stayed a bit and got these in the ground?”
“Sure,” she replies with a shrug.
As soon as she gives me the okay to hang around and keep working, I head to my truck for a few tools. Tossing them in the bucket of my small tractor, I steer the machine to the backyard. I’m surprised when I come around the corner and find Kate there, carrying a folding chair. I stop the tractor and jump off, anxious to get these bushes in the ground.
When I glance her way, she gives me an unsure look. “Is it okay if I watch?”
My heart does a little gallop in my chest. She used to show up when I was working in high school and watch me mow. She always said it was relaxing, watching me do what I loved. My tongue is thick and I’m not sure if words will actually spill from my lips, so I just nod instead. Kate settles into the chair, looking around to make sure she’s not in the way. She is, but I’m not going to tell her that. I can maneuver around her and work from the opposite side. The good thing about this phase of the project is the canvas is clear and unobstructed for the most part.
I get to work, clearing a spot for my tools and readying the shrubs for planting. It doesn’t take me long to fall into my zone, all while keeping Kate in my peripheral vision. She doesn’t move much, just watches me work.
Since the ground is already prepped for planting, I have the eight new plants in the ground fairly quickly, even while working solo. As I start to fill in the holes around the roots, I catch movement out of the corner of my eye. Kate gets up and heads to the house, probably desperate for something to do other
than watching me work. I’m sure she’s bored out of her mind.
As I head up to the house to grab the hose, I’m surprised when she returns to her chair, carrying two glasses of what looks like lemonade. When I place the water source at the line of new shrubs, she gets up and brings me a glass.
“I thought you could use this.”
“Thanks,” I tell her, drinking the cold, sweet liquid down all at once.
A giggle spills from her lips. “I guess I was right.”
“Yeah, I may have been a little thirsty,” I tell her, wiping my sweaty brow with the hem of my T-shirt. The movement draws her eyes, and there’s no mistaking the way she gapes at my bare stomach.
Her eyes meet mine and the cutest blush burns her cheeks. She doesn’t avert her eyes, though. No, my Kate holds my gaze, not backing down for a second, even after being caught ogling my abs.
When she finally speaks again, she asks, “So no Max tonight?”
I walk over and adjust the hose, moving it down the line. “He’s with his mom,” I answer. She watches me closely, probably waiting to see if I’ll elaborate more, before going back to her chair off to the side. “Go ahead and ask.”
Our eyes meet and there’s no hint of surprise in hers. “Who is his mom?”
I grab the shovel off the ground and pretend to adjust some of the wet dirt. It’s not really necessary, yet I feel like I need to do something with my hands. After a few minutes of awkward silence, I give her my full attention, putting my weight on the handle of the shovel. “Ashley Tatum.”
This time, her shock is very evident. “Ashley Tatum? You married Ashley Tatum?”
I slowly nod a reply. “Sure did.”
Her mouth gapes open, clearly not expecting me to confirm I was married to one of the school’s biggest bitches. Kate and Ashley always had snide words for each other, mostly on Ashley’s part. Though, if I was around, Ash tended to be nice as pie. The moment I stepped away, however, she’d turn up the bitch factor to one hundred, always giving Kate a hard time about her perfect grades, her abundance of money, and her perfect life. Only those close to her (namely, me) knew the real story behind all of that. Behind it all was a miserable girl who just wanted to forge her own path and do what she loved instead of what was expected of her.