“It’s not mine,” I tell her, slipping on a red heel. “I’m just staying here temporarily.”
She hands me the cup of coffee she brought, silent questions etched across her features. I redirect her to the front door to prevent them from being voiced and follow her to her car.
“Who was the designer for these?” I ask, pulling one of the dresses out so I can see the color.
“Maya.”
I raise my eyebrows. “Maya made this mistake? Wow. Okay, let’s go.”
“Do you know her?”
I nod. “Thankfully, I do. This might be an easy win for once.”
34
I sit cross-legged on my bed, writing up my blog post about my DIY spa day when Felicity comes in, tears streaming from the outer corners of her eyes.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, closing my laptop.
She shakes her head and wraps her arms around me, hugging me. “I’m just hormonal,” she says, hiccupping on a sob.
I smile, holding her close. “Did the coffeepot look at you funny again? Need me to beat it up?”
She pulls back, wiping at the tears. “I told Dan about the baby.” She sniffs. “And he’s so happy.” Her face crumples with additional tears. “He’s seriously so great, and it makes me hate Gabe even more.”
I chuckle. “Don’t waste this moment thinking about Gabe. Focus on you. On baby. On Dan.”
“You deserve someone like Dan.”
“That wasn’t Gabe, so be happy it’s over.”
She pulls in a shaky breath.
“Why don’t I watch the kids, and you and Dan go to the appointment this morning?”
She bites her bottom lip. “You’re supposed to go with me.”
“No, Dan is.” There’s a physical pain in my chest as I say these words. I love Dan, and watching him be such a wonderful and supportive husband and father makes me love him more, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t occasionally jealous of the time he gets with Felicity. How she turns to him when she’s upset or excited rather than me. Slowly, I’m starting to understand that that’s a really good thing.
“Are you sure?”
“I’m positive.”
“Gemma’s off today, you remember? You’d have both of them.”
“Like I’d want it any other way.”
She grins, more tears falling, creating new paths down her reddened cheeks. “I love you.”
I nod, knowing she does. “I love you, too. You guys go see this new little baby on the screen, get pictures, and then go to lunch.”
“Don’t tell me you’re taking two days off in one week. Is the sky falling?” She places a hand to my forehead. “Are you feverish?”
I push her hand away, laughing. “I deserve it. This week, I got a couple enrolled in marital counseling, had to talk Catherine into refunding a down payment to a bride who caught her groom-to-be cheating with the best man-to-be, severed a long-term professional relationship at the cost of bridesmaid dresses, and bribed the construction team that’s working on Levi’s bar with so many pizzas, calzones, and pastries that the scents will quite literally will never ever leave my car.”
“In three days?”
“I don’t think I’ve slept since Monday.”
“Have you seen Levi?”
I shake my head. “He’s been busy. I’ve been busy.”
“Okay, well, we will come straight home after the appointment, and then you should spend the rest of your day napping.”
I shake my head, standing. “Stay. If you guys get home too early, I’ll feel compelled to go back to work.”
“You need to learn to appreciate being bored. It would make a great blog post.”
“No, it wouldn’t. My OCD tendencies turn into ADHD qualities, and your guest room would end up a new color, and your closets would be reorganized, and I’d probably spend my savings on infomercials.”
“I’m signing us up for meditation.”
“No!” I cry, pouting. “I can’t sit still.”
“I signed up to jump out of a plane with you, and you can’t sit with your legs crossed and your eyes closed for ten minutes?”
“You make me sound like a hussy when you put it like that.”
Felicity throws her head back and laughs. “I wish. You’re turning into a spinster on me.”
“Can we dial down the judging? I’m being a great role model for Gemma. You’re welcome.”
She side-eyes me, the humor falling from her face, leaving her features serious. The air becomes too thick, demanding more sarcasm, but when Felicity’s blue eyes fix on me, the hint of pity rounding them, I can’t think of a single retort. “I want you to sleep around. I want you to have fun. I want you to stop thinking of the end and start focusing on the beginning.”
“Babe! Are we taking the kids to your mother’s?” Dan asks as he strides into the room. His eyes are bright, and he’s breathing too heavy, proof that he’s been chasing Gemma and Theo around the living room.
“I’m your elected babysitter for the day. Be sure to spoil your bride and get her something really delicious before she enters the puking stage of this pregnancy.”
“That’s not going to happen,” Felicity says, placing a hand to her stomach.
“That’s what you said with Gemma,” I remind her. “And with Theo. It’s coming. So, go eat all the yummies while you still can.”
She frowns. “We’re not done with this discussion.”
“Are we ever?”
“I hope so.”
I shoo her forward.
“There’s juice in the fridge. I told Gemma she can’t have any sweets unless she eats some vegetables for lunch. Oh, and if you give them grapes, they need to be cut in half.”
“I was just going to give them some Jim Beam and jerky for lunch. That’s not okay?”
Dan chuckles.
“I’m sorry.” Felicity covers her face.
“Don’t be. You give Dan the same lectures. If you didn’t give them to me, I’d be worried.”
She reaches forward and presses her lips against my cheek. “Thanks, Books.”
I follow them down the stairs, discovering a tower of blocks that Gemma has made around Theo.
“Look,” I say. “She’s already contained him. This will be a breeze.”
They slip out to prevent tears from Theo, and I join Gemma as Theo starts roaring like a lion.
I’m out of breath when I stop to answer my phone. Gemma and Theo pass me, their shoulders slumped and objections flying past their lips as I see Levi’s name.
“One second, okay? I promise we’ll get right back to the game.”
“Okay. But only one.” Gemma lifts one finger. Theo lifts three.
“Hello?”
“You’re not at your office.” His tone is factual, edged with disappointment that makes my stomach curl and warm.
“You stalking me?”
“Not successfully, apparently.”
I laugh. Gemma tips her chin, scowling at me before she stabs her small wrist. She’s becoming her mother.
“I’m off for this morning. Felicity had an appointment, so I’m watching her kids.”
“I have to get these invitations approved by one. Mind if I stop by?”
“You could have your mom look at them. She’s better at that stuff. She’ll tell you my lack of font appreciation is proof I attended public schools. I think that’s her polite way of saying I didn’t grow up with money.”
“Nah, just her way of saying you people from Indiana aren’t cultured like us Chicagoans.”
“Ohhhh. Thanks for translating that for me.”
“Anytime.”
“You can email the files to me,” I offer when the silence stretches, making discomfort grow in my chest.
“The files?”
“The invitations.”
“Oh, well, it’s about paper and texture as well.”
“We could meet up later? I could be in the city around two.”
“I’m a
lready pulling into your neighborhood.”
Panic has my eyes growing wide and my heart thumping wildly. I’m in a pair of pajama shorts, and my T-shirt has applesauce stains from Theo’s snack. “Funny,” I say, baiting him to admit he’s pulling my leg.
“I am, aren’t I?”
There’s a knock at the door.
“I’m also here.”
I plaster my hand across my face, which is heated. He’s here.
I don’t have time to consider my lack of makeup or how my hair is still in yesterday’s ponytail because my thoughts have all been pulled to Theo and Gemma and if it’s appropriate to have Levi over while I’m watching them. While I’m not a teenager being paid to entertain kids for a date night, this is new territory for me, one that I wasn’t ready to trailblaze quite yet.
“Who is it?” Gemma yells, racing for the door with Theo two steps short with a wagon of toys pulled behind him.
“You aren’t allowed to answer the door,” I remind them both, sidestepping them as I trip over a fallen toy. I don’t bother telling them to go to the living room, because they’re more excited about visitors than a canine is when the mailman steps up to the stoop.
I pull the door open to find Levi. His golden-blond hair is artfully messy, and his blue eyes and full lips are pulled into a smile that makes my heart skip and flounder.
“Hey,” I say, placing my hand on Theo’s shoulders so he doesn’t dash outside.
Levi’s lips climb even higher, bringing my heart rate with them. “Hey.”
“What’s your name?” Gemma asks.
He squats down to Gemma and Theo’s level, and it’s then I realize he’s holding a large, brown pastry box in his hands. “My name’s Levi. What are your names?”
“I’m Gemma, and he’s Theo. He’s two, so he doesn’t talk very well.”
A laugh makes Levi’s face split in half. “Well, it’s nice that he has a big sister to help him out.”
Gemma nods, beaming. “I’m five,” she adds. “How old are you?”
Felicity would be embarrassed and apologizing, her attempts to teach manners often lost to a sea of questions and Gemma’s growing imagination. I, however, allow the question because although I can recognize humor and intrigue with just a glance, there are many details and facts about Levi that I don’t know.
“I’m thirty-two.”
Gemma cranes her neck back to look at me. I know she’s trying to compare our ages to assess if he’s friend age, parent age, grandparent age, or somewhere in-between. “He’s close to your daddy’s age,” I say. Recognition smooths the creases on her forehead.
“Gemma and Theo, do you guys like doughnuts?” Levi asks.
Their eyes grow impossibly wide as they giggle with excitement. At this age, neither of them can stand to wait for anything—it’s all about instant gratification—so I’m grateful Levi reveals over a dozen pastries as he opens the box he has with him.
“Are you ready? Because these doughnuts are the best doughnuts not only in Chicago, but in the world.”
“He might be biased,” I add.
Levi’s blue gaze rises to meet mine, humor brightening it. “These are Jerry’s hidden talent.”
“Jerry made them?” I lean closer to get a good look at them.
“For you, actually.”
I pull my chin back.
“They’re completely vegan.”
Disbelief rounds my eyes. “Really?”
Levi nods. “There’s this weird thing about chefs: we hate leaving a challenge untouched.” His gaze holds mine, eluding to far more than food.
“‘Hate’ isn’t a nice word, is it, Aunt Books?” Gemma says, forcing me to blink several times in an attempt to think about something aside from the thought of Levi and me being something more than … whatever this fine line that we’ve drawn to distinguish what we started as and what we should be.
Levi crinkles his nose. “You’re right,” he says. “My apologies.”
“That’s okay,” she says. “Sometimes I forget, too.”
His grin makes it clear Gemma has melted his heart. Gemma is like hot fudge on a sundae, sweet and addictive, and Theo is the sprinkles, adding fun, variety, and creativity that leaves you always searching for more.
“You like to come in?” Theo asks, holding a truck up in greeting.
Levi looks to me, and I open the door wider.
His T-shirt is a pale blue, a shade that makes his eyes impossibly vibrant. It hugs his shoulders and biceps, drawing my attention until he clears his throat. “Is this a good time to tell you”— he looks around before leaning in and whispering—“I’m late.”
Heat travels down my neck to my chest. I’m pretty sure even my toes are glowing with embarrassment as he calls me out for checking him out in the same fashion I used when the kid at the bar flirted with me when we first met.
“And here I thought you liked me for what was between my ears.”
I blow out a sound of disbelief. “You mean hot air?”
Levi chuckles, flashing his white teeth.
“Did you bring the invitations?” I ask.
“Invitations?” he asks.
“Yeah. The ones for the grand opening that you came over to show me.”
“Oh, right. Those… I might have been looking for an excuse to see you.”
My heart skips before racing to catch up. Then he flashes a smile, and my heart skips again. I move to get plates, desperate for something to busy myself with even for a second. Planning and execution help settle me. I set the dishes at Gemma’s and Theo’s spots before lifting Theo into his booster seat.
Levi scoots Gemma in with a wink.
“Do you guys want some juice or some soy milk?” I ask them.
Levi quirks an eyebrow as the kids call out their choices. As I retrieve two cups, he sidles up beside me. I lose my focus, and a cup slips from my fingers. Levi grabs it like a baseball, an easy smile resting on his lips. “I thought you claimed veganism wasn’t contagious?”
My traitorous heart is beating too fast again as I work to sound unaffected by his close proximity since I’ve failed to appear it. “Maybe I lied?”
He reaches forward, brushing the stray strands of hair that won’t fit in my ponytail over one ear, his fingers passing slowly. Too slowly. “Should I be scared?”
My breath catches in my throat. I stare at him, working to read his expression or tone or anything that will reveal if he’s teasing or exposing the same level of vulnerability I constantly feel whenever he’s near. I start to shake my head, and in turn, Levi cocks his chin. It’s as though he hears my thoughts, and that’s more unnerving than how my focus continues to be drawn to his mouth, tracing the outline of his lips, recalling the exact pressure that had stolen my breath and ability to focus.
“Aunty Books, how many can we have?” Gemma asks, seamlessly ending the moment.
I move, and Levi moves, and I shift, and then he shifts. I’m frazzled, our limbs mirroring each other’s as though there’s a kinetic pull between us, dictating our bodies. Levi chuckles, tipping his face so I miss his smile and whatever expression his eyes are revealing. He places a hand to my waist, searing my skin through my applesauce-stained shirt that’s a size too big. His hand moves up an inch and then back down before his fingers compress, and it’s then I’m positive he has to feel this electricity between us as well. Must.
I’m relieved he’s not looking at me, because I’m sure desire is apparent in my flared pupils and weighted breaths.
I’m disappointed he’s not looking at me, because I need validation that he’s feeling this, too.
I’m confused that he’s choosing not to look at me, wondering if he wants to hide his emotions just as much as I do.
His hand slips from my side and is quickly replaced with a tussle of emotions that are all working to be heard and felt and expressed.
“Can I have this one?” Gemma again pulls my attention back to reality as she points to the largest doughnut i
n the box.
“Only if I get to take a bite first.”
“Deal!”
“Me, too!” Theo adds, sitting even more upright in his seat.
Coffee is my life juice, and doughnuts are my weakness. Felicity loves to make inappropriate jokes that I should have been a cop so I could better fit the stereotype, but I’m pretty sure the men in blue have nothing on me. I’ve made it my mission to sample every doughnut in and around Chicago, noting my favorites and returning to them often. I even add gift cards from my favorite bakeries as a part of the gifts I give to each new bride and groom that I work with, which has earned me free doughnuts at many of the bakeries I favor. But one bite of these sweet confections, and I’m a goner. It’s as though I’ve never tasted a doughnut before in my life. The slight crispiness on the outside coated with the perfect shell of glassy sugar and warm, pillow-soft dough inside, the warm apples enrobed in cinnamon and sugar. I close my eyes and tilt my head back, wishing I could renege on the deal of giving this doughnut up. I don’t want to share it, not even a bite.
“Is it good?” Gemma asks, reaching for the sugary piece of perfection.
I open my eyes, feeling his stare. It reminds me of basking in the sun. Of being on a swing set and reaching the highest point, where you face the chance of tipping if you push any higher. “So good, Gemma. We’re never going to be able to eat other doughnuts again.” I tear off half of it and hand it to Theo before Gemma devours it.
“These need coffee.” I get Theo another doughnut and then cross to the coffeepot. When Felicity isn’t pregnant, she’s like me and drinks coffee like water, thus she still uses a coffeepot with a large multi-cup carafe and a filler basket that allows me to add extra coffee granules so it’s stronger than the individual servings that never make enough.
“Tonight.” Levi’s behind me, growling the word.
My poor heart, which hasn’t managed to remain at a steady tempo since he arrived peaks again. I turn just fractionally so I can see him without fully exposing myself or the hope I’m holding onto.
“Let’s go out. I’ll rip up the contract. I’ll sign a gag order. I’ll avoid my mother for the next decade. Just…” He shakes his head. “Don’t say no.”
The Fallback Page 27