Totally Inevitable Intent

by Michele Lenard

  “Yes, but I don’t want to broadcast that we’re sleeping together. I have to set a good example. Except you make me want to set a very bad example.”

  “How so?”

  “My pants seem to fall off whenever I’m with you.”

  “You seem to have the same effect on me.” I chuckle. “But I hardly think losing our pants in your house is setting a bad example.”

  “What about the woods last week? Twice?” she asks. “I’ve never done that before.”

  “You’ve never had sex outside?” I try not to smile at the idea of being her first in that regard.

  “Well, not in the middle of the forest. And not since having Sawyer.” She fingers the small patch of hair on my chest.

  “There’s a lot of things you haven’t done since having Sawyer, aren’t there?” I stroke her arm.

  “You mean with men?”

  “Yes.”

  “Is it that obvious?” Her hand stills, and I can tell she’s thinking about sex, not about general interaction with the opposite sex, which is what I was referring to.

  “What? No.” I thread her fingers through mine. “I mean, my pants magically fall off in your presence, too, right? That wouldn’t happen if you weren’t the sexiest woman I’ve ever had the pleasure to sleep with. The things you do to me just…damn. But I was talking about just hanging out with a man or dating. Sawyer said her dad dates enough for the both of you and maybe that’s why you never really dated. And you said single mothers repel guys.”

  “Well, her dad does date enough for the both of us.” She snorts. “And single mothers do repel guys.”

  “Not all guys.” I kiss her forehead, and she resumes stroking my chest.

  “Most,” she says. “But you are different.”

  “How?”

  “I feel like you see me. Not my job or my child or even my past. Just me.”

  My heart stills as I realize that’s yet another thing that pulls us toward one another, except she wouldn’t know that because I’ve never told her. Maybe it’s time.

  “I feel the same way.” I exhale slowly.

  “Really?” She raises up on her elbow to study me.

  “Yeah. I think most people look at me as the guy who lost his wife. I can’t really blame them for that. For years that’s what I was because I couldn’t get over that loss, but I think maybe that’s part of the reason I couldn’t move on. I missed her, but I felt like I was supposed to keep missing her. That’s who I was then.”

  “Who are you now?” She hesitates.

  “Me. Just me.” I take her hand in mine and link our fingers together.

  “What changed?”

  “I think it was you.” I take a moment to drink her in. “You never saw me as the guy who lost his wife. You just saw me.”

  “That made you change?”

  I can tell by her tone she’s not sure what I’m trying to say. I take a deep breath, trying to find the right words. “You can sort of tell when people are treating you like you might break. They’re nice and polite and maybe even friendly, but they’re reserved. You weren’t. And I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I’d never thought about another woman, ever. And then suddenly you were there, teasing me with that smart mouth and tempting me with that gorgeous body, and it made me want to live in the present, not the past. So, yeah. You saw me, and that helped me see myself. Or the version of me I wanted to be again.”

  “Do I remind you of her?” Jen chews on her lip, like she’s afraid of my answer.

  “Yes and no,” I answer honestly as I stroke her hand. “You have some of the same qualities, like how the littlest thing excites you to no end, and how hard you work, and what a great mother you are. But you’re more assertive and confident, a little more girly. And you look nothing alike.”

  “What do you mean I’m girly? I’ve been getting dirty at the house every day same as all the guys.”

  “Don’t talk about getting dirty or you’ll get me hard again.” I kiss her long and deep. “But as tough and capable as you are, you do still have pink demo gear.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with appreciating color. I don’t see how that makes me girly.” She pouts.

  “That makes you you, and I find you endlessly intriguing.” I kiss her again, softly.

  “What was her name?” Jen asks when we break apart.

  “Katie.”

  “Do you still miss her?”

  “I did, for a long time. She died unexpectedly, and first I was distraught about that, then angry, and then lonely. But I felt like if I moved on, I would forget her, and I didn’t want to do that to her. I didn’t, for years. Then I met you, and the more I thought about you, the less I thought about her.” I stroke her hand gently. “That scared me at first, like I really was forgetting her, but then I realized I was just remembering her differently. Instead of being sad that she was gone all the time, I started feeling happy about the memories I did have. So I think I’ll probably always miss things like how she didn’t get to see Wes grow up, and we didn’t get to be parents together, but I don’t miss her like a piece of me is missing. Does that make sense?”

  I’ve been looking at Jen’s hand in mine the whole time, but now I bring my eyes to hers, hoping I didn’t just scare her away with that admission. She has tears in her eyes, but she’s not looking at me with pity or fear. She’s looking at me with acceptance.

  “Yes, that makes sense. Thanks for sharing her with me.”

  I can’t help it, that makes me chuckle, and Jen’s face starts to turn white. “What did I say? Why is that funny?”

  I bring her hand to my lips and kiss it. “It’s not funny. It’s ironic. Back when I was trying so hard not to think of you, it crossed my mind that Katie would really like you. She’d get a kick out of how you tease me. So, sharing her with you is…well, not as strange as I thought it might be. It feels kind of right. But I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

  “She’s a part of you. I wouldn’t want you to forget that or hide it on my account.”

  “I used to think I had to. I mean, who wants to hear about a former spouse? That’s maybe another reason it took me so long to move on. People would either want me to talk about her on their terms or not at all. You never made me feel like I had to say anything.”

  “I guess maybe you and I are alike in that way,” she says, stroking my chest. “I had someone I mourned for a while, too, and I remember what it was like to feel pressured to talk about it. Some people meant well, others were just curious, but either way, talking wasn’t always what I needed or wanted.”

  “Speaking of talking,” I say as her fingers play over my chest, “why don’t you tell me what you’d like to do to me the rest of the week? I think we should take full advantage of having time to ourselves.”

  “That’s another way we’re alike.” She giggles as I roll on top of her. “We can’t seem to get enough of each other.”

  Chapter 17

  Jen

  After a long day at the house, Anthony and I go our separate ways to shower and change, then he picks me up at five to make the drive to Chris and Lisa’s, where we have plans to watch the fireworks on one of their decks that overlooks the city.

  I can tell we’re both a little nervous about tonight. I suppose it’s the first “official” date we’ve been on, or at the very least an announcement of sorts that we’re more than coworkers or colleagues or whatever we started off as, and while I’m not nervous about that per se, I am sort of sad the little bubble we’ve been living in the past several days is about to burst, metaphorically speaking.

  We’ve fallen into a comfortable routine, working on the house during the day, dinner at one of our houses, snuggling together on the couch, amazing sex, sleeping in each other’s arms, wake up and repeat. We’ve only been doing this for four days, but already it feels normal, and that leaves me conflicted, because this can’t be normal. Not once our kids are back.

  There can’t be any overnights when the ki
ds are around. I’m not comfortable leaving Sawyer alone in the house all night, and I’m not comfortable with Anthony sleeping over when she’s there. That’s going to leave precious little time for us to have one day, let alone a week, where we can spend every moment together, and I already know that will be devastating, because I’ve become so used to his presence.

  For the first time since my divorce, I’m happy Sawyer is traveling with her dad. Usually, I mope around waiting for her to get home, but this time, her absence has allowed me to give myself completely to Anthony, and he to me, and when you have such a powerful connection to someone, it really is a gift to give yourself to them without constraint. To make them your sole focus and to know you’re theirs in return. Times like this will be a rare occurrence once our kids are home and the job of parenting once again takes priority. That’s why I’m slightly disappointed we’re not spending this time alone.

  But Lisa is my closest friend, and I haven’t seen much of her lately. I couldn’t see a way to decline the invitation. Plus, if Anthony and I are dating, we’re going to have to take this first step eventually, and I’d rather do that with Lisa and Chris in the privacy of their home than, say, at their wedding, which Lisa still wants us to attend as a couple.

  We drive in silence for a bit, both of us no doubt wondering how we’re supposed to act in front of others, when Anthony takes my hand.

  “We could turn around.” He glances at me.

  “Am I that obvious?”

  “You’re quiet. That’s not really one of your strengths.”

  I laugh, loudly, because he’s right. “I’m wondering why we decided to spend one of our limited nights alone with other people,” I admit.

  “I wondered that, too. I guess that’s what couples do, though, right? Go out with friends.” He gives my hand a soft squeeze.

  “Are we a couple?” I’m teasing, sort of.

  “Aren’t we?” I feel his hand stiffen in mine.

  “We never really discussed it.”

  He nods absently, considering. “I guess we haven’t. Do I still ask you to go steady? That’s what I did the last time I dated anyone.”

  I laugh again, grateful that he’s just as bad at this as I am. “I think you’re supposed to ask me on a date first.”

  “I did that. We went hiking, remember?”

  “How could I forget? But I’m not sure that was a date. It was sort of work-related.”

  “How do you figure? I mean, I don’t usually count orgasms as work.” He grins.

  “Nor do I,” I agree with a giggle. “But our hike wasn’t all fun and games. We had a project to work on, so those orgasms, while immensely satisfying, were rooted in work.”

  “Is that so?” He eyes me curiously.

  “Yes. And so were the next ones, since those happened in house when I was finishing the bathroom.”

  “What about in your bed afterward?”

  “Those were a continuation of what started at work,” I state.

  “So you’re saying I only give work-related orgasms?”

  “If the shoe fits.” I shrug.

  “And I guess that means you want non work-related orgasms?” He arches a brow, baiting me.

  “Well, if you want me to go steady with you, then I think that’s a fair request.” I bat my eyelashes dramatically.

  “I haven’t asked you to go steady.” His dark eyes glint in mischief.

  “But you want to.” I bite my lip.

  “Yeah, I want to.” He turns serious, and as much as I’ve enjoyed the playful banter we have going, I’m relieved that he confirms what I want to hear, because sometimes you just need the words. He gives my hand another squeeze, running his thumb along mine. “Jen, will you go steady with me?”

  “Yes.” I exhale.

  ***

  “I’m so glad you’re here,” Lisa says as she hugs me hello. “And you, too.” She hugs Anthony, who freezes briefly before returning the hug. He still doesn’t know her well, and despite how he’s opened up with me, he’s still not overly affectionate with others, but Lisa’s too genuine to ignore, and by the time they part, he’s smiling comfortably, visibly relaxed. So far, so good.

  We follow her inside, and once again I marvel at how beautiful it is. It has views of both the mountains and the city with decks to enjoy both, and the large windows make it possible to enjoy the outside even when you’re indoors. It’s bone structure is contemporary, and in keeping with the exterior, the interior was a lot of hard lines and monochromatic colors. It looked nice, but it felt sort of cold. Lisa’s style is a little more colorful than his, and since she moved in, she’s added some softer touches like throw pillows, blankets, plants, and some photos that make it feel a bit cozier. Now it feels like their space.

  They make us each a drink, and we head to the deck to enjoy the evening air, which is about ten degrees cooler at their elevation than it is down in Denver.

  “Anthony, why don’t you tell the girls about the work you did here? I don’t think either of them know how much this place has been transformed,” Chris suggests.

  “Uh, sure,” he responds, rubbing his jaw. He’s clearly not comfortable being the center of attention but too polite to decline. He points toward the kitchen. “The kitchen used to be enclosed, so we opened that up to access the view, and we turned the whole back wall into a series of glass sliders so the indoor and outdoor space could be seamless. We redid all the floors, all the kitchen cabinets, and we carried the fireplace surround all the way up to the vaulted ceiling, replaced all the handrails with glass so the stairways don’t feel closed off. I think that’s it. Oh, and the decks, we expanded this one and added the one that overlooks the city.”

  “You’re being modest,” Chris admonishes. “This house was more like a cabin when I bought it, all dark and filled with wood, and it didn’t take advantage of the views. I actually thought about tearing it down, but Anthony said he could work with it. He practically gutted it to open it all up, he reoriented all the windows to take advantage of the views, and he added the whole master wing. He even kept the original exterior of the house in the new bathroom.”

  “Oh,” Lisa gasps. “I never realized that wall behind the vanity was originally an outside wall. I thought it was just an accent feature.”

  “No, he just cleaned it up so it didn’t look weathered. But that wall was the outside of the house for nearly thirty years.”

  I just stare at Anthony, stunned. “Why on earth would you ever take on my little flip when you can do something like this?”

  “I needed a project for Wes to run.” He shrugs then floors me completely when he adds, “And I thought you were cute.”

  I lock eyes with Anthony, signaling I understand the significance of that statement. Despite his desire to live in the past, he was drawn to me from the start, and for someone who was determined not to move on that’s a huge admission. He’d known fighting was futile from the beginning.

  I know I’m not the only one who understands what he just said, because even though I’m still looking at Anthony, I can actually feel Lisa smiling. I know she’s excited for me, but I really hope she doesn’t make a big deal out of this. It’s still all so new, I just want things to be normal. Fortunately, Chris saves the day. Sort of. “I told you he’d like her.” He winks at Lisa.

  Anthony’s eyes go wide. “You mean this flip was just a way to set us up?”

  “No,” Chris scoffs. “Jen needed a contractor, and you were there. But she seemed to get under your skin a bit, so Lisa thought introducing you would be a disaster. I disagreed.” He winks at Lisa again.

  “Why did you disagree?” Anthony asks, baffled.

  “She made you think.” Chris sips his drink, clearly amused by Anthony’s confusion.

  “How could you possibly know that?” Anthony scoffs.

  “You were rubbing your jaw while you talked to her.”

  Anthony’s eyes dart to mine, and I stifle a laugh. “Fair enough,” he responds, and we a
ll laugh at his resigned look.

  We take our drinks and grab a plate of the pulled pork Chris has been smoking all day then move to the couches to eat. The pork is so tender and juicy it melts in my mouth, and I can’t help the little moan that slips out when I take a bite.

  “This is delicious,” I tell Chris. “How long did it take to make this?”

  “About twelve hours. I started it this morning.”

  “It’s fantastic,” I repeat, licking my fingers.

  “I’m glad you like it. Today’s the first time I’ve used it.”

  “Seriously?” I gape.

  “I never really entertained much before.” He shrugs as his eyes drift to Lisa. “And I never felt the need to use it just for myself. I’m lucky Anthony had the foresight to include a smoker in the plans when he designed this place.”

  “So you don’t just design amazing houses, you see the future, too?” I tease Anthony.

  “I was thinking more about resale at the time,” he admits guiltily, and we all laugh.

  “So how is the house coming along?” Chris asks me.

  “So far so good,” I answer. “Anthony came up with some creative plans to help bring it back to life without replacing everything, so it’s still got some of the original character.”

  “Some of those ideas were yours,” Anthony points out. “And I haven’t made the final decision on anything, so what you see is all Jen.”

  I feel myself blush a bit under his praise and nod a quick thank-you before I continue. “I’ve worked on my own house before, bit by bit, but I’ve never really been part of a total transformation, and I’m really enjoying it. Plus, I have to say Wes and his friends have done a great job putting it together.”

  “I agree,” Lisa chimes in. “I have to admit I was skeptical when Jen told me the kids were doing most of the work, but they really have done a great job.”

  “Well, Wes and his friends have worked summers with me for years, so while they’re only seventeen, they’re already pretty knowledgeable about construction,” Anthony says proudly.

  “Still no plans for Wes to work for you?” Chris asks Anthony. “The kid’s got talent as a contractor.”