I've Got You

by Becca Seymour

  I dislodged her grip and held her hands, allowing her to bounce a little more freely. Her giggle was sweet and loud and contagious. I joined in with her laughter. “Higher,” I encouraged. “Up as high as the sky.”

  “Pu, pu,” she gurgled before throwing herself as far backward as she could. She was a heart attack waiting to happen. My stomach lurched, my heart stuttered. It didn’t matter that rationally I knew she couldn’t go anywhere—my grip was secure and held true—but Christ, for a moment there….

  Davis snorted beside me. “Come on, stinker. Let’s get you changed and ready for dinner. You’re going to give Scott here nightmares.”

  A sound of agreement slipped out of my mouth. “She do that a lot?”

  “Yep.” Davis laughed as he took Libby from me and pushed her lightly to the bed, guiding her down, but from her reaction, it was clear she not only thought she was falling but that the whole thing was hysterical. “And usually she manages to break free. She can be a slippery creature.”

  I grinned. Flat on her back and still giggling, she wriggled around, even as Davis tugged her toward him. He swiftly changed her diaper and had her standing back before me, asking me to hold her up while he wiped her hands.

  “You’re a bit of a pro at this.” I flicked a quick glance at Davis as I spoke. “I’m impressed.” And I was. My brother-in-law, Stan, admittedly the only guy I’d ever really seen and knew with children of his own, did the bare minimum when it came to parenting—and being a husband. I knew not every parent was as great as my sister or Davis.

  “Thanks.” He stepped closer so that I sensed his heat at my side, and the pitch of his voice lowered. “Before we go down”—I turned to look at him while he spoke, fighting hard to not gulp at the close proximity or the intensity in his eyes. Libby remained securely bouncing around—“I shouldn’t have to say I meant what I said, as I hope by now you believe I really don’t bullshit. But just to be clear, it’s going to happen.” His dark gaze roamed my face, no doubt looking for my reaction. Despite the heat that I knew colored my cheeks, I gave nothing away. Mainly because I couldn’t pinpoint one specific emotion or reaction amongst the many racing around. “When we’re both ready.”

  This time I had no doubt he was talking about him and me.

  I want to be ready. The thought came to me loud and clear, strong and assured. Any conflict brewing faded away. It was absolutely, a hundred percent, positively a truth I could get behind. I wanted to be ready. More than anything. It would be my prize, what I would aim for. A moment with Davis, even if the outcome didn’t amount to much, was a target I could get behind.

  The journey was my own for sure, but focusing on someone else, reaching for something I was keen to savor, it helped. The pressure eased a little; the burden, while far from gone, weighed a bit less. “I can get behind that.”

  If Davis was surprised by my words, he didn’t show it. Instead, he winked and stepped back, not touching me once. Disappointment at the lack of contact warred with common sense. I had to find me, and stumbling into something with a man, with Davis, headfirst would be my cock doing the thinking. While tempting, the baby in my arms was enough of a reason to make sure we did this right.

  Chapter Eleven

  DAVIS

  There was definitely zero arrogance in Scott, not anymore, and not after his frozen face of horror connected with my semi-amused one when he dropped and broke his fifteenth cup. Katie, Phil, Craig, and even Ted, one of the new bar owners I’d met a few weeks back, had wagers going about Scott’s epic fails.

  “I’m so sorry.” Mortification colored his words. He quickly looked around and I saw his shoulders visibly relax when he realized there were only a couple of customers present. We were the only two staff here closing up. “I’ll pay for it.” He squatted and picked up the pieces while I reached for a pan and brush and stepped over to him.

  Crouched beside him, I nudged him a little. “You know I have to mark it down, right?”

  He groaned, knowing I was not talking about payment, but rather about the bets. “Seriously? Can we not hide this one?” He glanced over his shoulder, then returned his focus to me, saying, “Bill’s here. He could have easily knocked this one off the table picking up his trombone.”

  “I heard that.” Old Bill’s voice echoing around the quiet café had Scott widening his gorgeous gray eyes and me laughing my ass off. “I’m in on that bet too. Just two more and I win two hundred,” Bill said, finishing with a gruff laugh.

  He really did carry his trombone with him everywhere. There were a few residents like that around the place: quirky, openly outspoken, and often hilarious. It was one of the things I was really fond of about this town.

  I swept up the debris and stood at the same time as Scott. “You sure you did surgery and shit, are still licensed, actually cut animals and stitched them up?” I jested.

  Scott gave me the evil eye, his middle finger snaking up to his nose and subtly rubbing. I snorted. Definitely no arrogance, but there was so much more to Scott than I could have ever realized. The past two weeks of him working for me had presented a very different Scott to the one I knew, the town knew, and I thought on some level, Scott knew. He was quick and witty, he was surprisingly observant of the needs of those around him, and of course, he was as clumsy as all hell. It was all a revelation, but the latter confused me the most.

  From what I knew about him, mainly from the tidbits Carter had passed my way, Scott was an excellent vet, and despite the obvious, had an exceptional reputation in his field. Clumsiness, I assumed, was not a prerequisite for successfully practicing veterinarian medicine.

  “Are you in on it?” He stood as he spoke, gaze still on me.

  I smirked. “Maybe.”

  “Any chance of you winning?”

  “Well, that depends.”

  He walked behind the counter and threw away the broken cup. “On?” he asked over his shoulder.

  I followed close behind him. “The pool closes tomorrow. Your second week of shifts. Only dishes counts, and they have to break.” He shook his head at me as I spoke. There was no embarrassment in his face; instead, there was a mildly amused acceptance. “So no chips, no spillages, no dropped cutlery.”

  “And I’m on fifteen?”

  I bobbed my head. “Yeah.”

  “What was your number?” he asked while he started shutting down the coffee machine.

  Leaning against the counter, I studied him. There were fewer lines around his eyes, suggesting he was sleeping better at night. The darker flecks in his eyes also seemed a little brighter than they once had. I didn’t think “content” was the right word—he broke too much for me to believe that—but he did seem more relaxed and together. “I’m not sure I should tell you.”

  “Oh?” He raised both brows in my direction, and I grinned and lifted one of mine back at him, knowing it got to him that he couldn’t lift just one eyebrow. I’d spent one morning getting him to try and had laughed so damn hard tears had spilled down my cheeks. He’d somehow ended up looking like a constipated rodent. And for a good-looking guy, I still had no idea how he managed to pull that off.

  I laughed when he squinted at me. “You might try to sabotage me. You know, drop one too many or one too few.”

  With a roll of his eyes, he shot a blast of steam out of the machine, cleaning it down and cooling it off. “It’s not like I intend to do it.”

  “Hmm… that may be the case, but still, I’ll take my chances and keep quiet.” I turned in the direction of the scrape of chairs and called out to both Bill and Margaret as they left. Scott did the same. “I’ll get the door.” Scott nodded, and I went to flick the sign to Closed and lock up. I only did two shutdowns a week since Scott joined. And while he was a bit of a disaster, he was capable of making coffee and helping out in the kitchen. I’d been able to rejig all of our schedules so I was doing far fewer hours a week, which meant I was not only spending more time with Libby, but I also ensured I had about three hours to myse
lf a week while Libby was in day care so I could do chores or shop.

  When I headed back toward the counter, Scott was in the process of refilling the condiments, having already cleaned out the display cabinets. We were almost done for the night. “What are your plans tonight?”

  With a flick of his gaze, his eyes connected with mine and he grinned. “I have a date.”

  My breath caught in my lungs and my tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth. I needed to breathe, but it was so hard when my gut tightened, painfully so, and my heart had spurted out a hit of painful adrenaline at his words.

  Something akin to panic washed over Scott’s features. His eyes widened, his face ashen. “Shit, I mean with my nephews. My sister. I actually got my head out of my ass last week and called her. We’re FaceTiming tonight.”

  Air hit my throat, filling my lungs as I took in a whoosh of breath. My reaction scared the shit out of me.

  He appeared to hesitate a moment, and then resolve filled his eyes. “You okay?”

  “Yeah.” I needed to say more, but the strength of my response to the possibility of him dating…. I shook my head, trying to clear it.

  “It’s just a phrase I use with Jenna. Date. I have no idea when or why it started. It’s kind of weird, I suppose.” His explanation made it clear he’d witnessed the effect his words had on me. And he wasn’t gloating, wasn’t behaving indifferently; instead, he was trying to soothe and reassure me. The ice that had taken hold of my body just moments before thawed immediately.

  “I don’t want you to go on dates,” I admitted. “That’s probably a shitty thing to say, but I can’t….” Since the words I’d spoken to him a couple of weeks earlier about kissing him, I’d thought about doing so every day, regardless of whether we saw each other or not. When I wasn’t focused on Libby or work, Scott occupied my mind. It was no accident that his work schedule was almost identical to my own. Katie was more than confident to train him up with the basics, and it wasn’t like I had the spare time, but I wanted the opportunity to be with Scott and get to know him better.

  He didn’t smirk. There was no visible swallowing or other sign of nerves, and there was no whitening of his face. What there was instead was a steady gaze on me. “I’m gay.”

  It wasn’t the time for a smartass comment about shit and Sherlock. Rather, I nodded. This was huge for him. I wasn’t a hundred percent sure, but it was probably one of a handful of times he’d ever said those words aloud before, let alone to anyone else.

  “I’m gay and I’m terrified, and I’m excited as hell. I also want to vomit.”

  I got it. I really did. How could I not? It didn’t matter what label I stuck on myself, or others for that matter, the task of coming to terms with your sexuality was momentous. Personal acceptance was just one thing in a long list of hurdles many people had to tackle. Pride swelled inside me and spread in my chest, desperate to break free and let Scott know.

  “And I want to kiss you, but I’m not ready yet. You were right. Don’t get me wrong, I’m so ready. Hell, I’m really ready, but I’m not, you know?” He continued talking while I nodded my understanding. “And I don’t want a unicorn tattoo, and I like rainbows, but I don’t want to wave one”—my lips twitched—“and the last thing I want to do is listen to Cher, and I don’t think I’ll be able to handle anyone asking me if I’m the man or the woman in a relationship, because seriously…?” He shook his head, a bewildered, slightly frenzied look on his face.

  “It’s just… I’m me. I’m just a guy. I’ve always felt this way, always known. Nothing’s changed, but I feel like everything has.”

  At that, I stepped around the counter to his side. He watched me coming. My heart ached for him, for his uncertainty, his confusion. He’d needed to offload and expel all of the crazy things rushing through his head. I would have liked for him to look more relaxed for it, but he was wound up tightly, every muscle visibly taut.

  I reached for him and wrapped him up in my arms, not quite sure how he’d react to my gesture. Scott wasn’t a tactile guy. He rarely reached out and touched anyone, beyond a firm handshake. The most I’d ever seen was when he was with Libby. But this moment warranted contact.

  With his head pressed against my shoulder, we remained silent. I lightly squeezed the back of his neck, encouraging him to relax and release the tension threatening to consume him. “You know,” I said after a beat, “somehow, someway, it’ll all work out.”

  He pulled back, and I dropped my arms to my sides. He didn’t look convinced at all.

  “Yeah, it sounds like a bullshit phrase meant to placate, but it’s true.”

  “How d’you figure?” he asked.

  With a small shrug, I said, “Because it has to. What other choice is there apart from living the life you were given and dealing with everything that comes with it?”

  His chest moved as he snorted. “So hard-headedness will solve my problems?”

  “Yeah. And that’s all on you, you know?” And it had to be that way. No one could sort out our shit for us. I was a firm believer in facing life head-on, just as I believed we made our own luck with sheer determination and hard work.

  He nodded.

  “So…,” I drawled, “you’re almost ready for a repeat.” I wiggled my brows, wanting to pull the conversation around.

  “Ha!” He shook his head and continued to clean up.

  “Ha? Really, that’s your response?” His saucy grin didn’t look the least bit apologetic. Bastard.

  It didn’t take much longer before I was kicking Scott out and sending him home. It was great he was making that call and reconnecting with his sister. He’d mentioned her a few times now, and I hoped her being more fully in his life would be really good for him. Meanwhile, I had an almost one-year-old to collect from Tanner’s, and at some point I had to get my shit together and organize a birthday party for her.

  She would be one, and I’d been seriously tempted to throw a party hat on her head, bake a cake, take some photos of her face-planting in it, and be done with it. She wouldn’t remember it when she was older but would have photos as evidence of us celebrating. Carter had told me I was an asshole, while Tanner had simply laughed and shaken his head. A party for a one-year-old addled my brain. Who the hell was I meant to invite, and what was a one-year-old meant to do? Beyond bouncing on her feet, trying to walk, and doing little else in terms of entertainment, I thought the whole concept was ridiculous. A party for a kid her age must be for the adults. Right? I considered that as I locked up and jumped into my car to pick her up.

  A few minutes later, I entered Tanner’s and called out in greeting.

  Carter stepped into the doorway from the kitchen. “Hey.”

  I frowned. “Is there a reason why you’re whispering?” I glanced at the time. I wasn’t late. Libby still had a good hour before her bedtime.

  He flicked his head toward the kitchen, and I followed him. When I stepped inside, my eyes immediately settled on Tanner, who was slowly rocking on his feet, Libby in his arms fast asleep. I angled around to have a look at her face pressing against his shoulder. It was blotchy.

  I stepped away from her so I could speak to Carter. “She not well?”

  Shaking his head, he said, “No. It’s taken about two hours to finally settle her. We’ve given her some medicine to take the edge off and help with her fever.”

  My chest tightened. I hated Libby being ill. It hurt my heart every time.

  “She’s fine. It was only slightly elevated. I had a feel and think she’s cutting a couple of teeth. I think she also has a stomachache. She’s been vomiting, but was able to keep her last bit of water down.”

  I nodded, taking it in, and fully aware I was so lucky to have both Tanner and Carter looking out for the two of us. “I can’t imagine she’ll be well by tomorrow. I’ll make arrangements at work.”

  “Sorry, if I didn’t have appointments at the clinic all day, I’d offer, and you know Tanner’s on that crazy deadline with the florist in
town.”

  “No.” I shook my head. “I don’t expect you to change things around, nor apologize. Hell, you do so much already.” I glanced at Tanner, who pressed a kiss to my daughter’s head. “Thanks, guys. I’ll just get her home and prepare for a rough night.” I hoped it wasn’t; not for my sake, but Libby’s.

  “I’ll get her in her seat,” Tanner said quietly.

  “Thanks.” He headed out to my car. I glanced around, picked up the backpack she used for childcare, and followed, Carter on my heels. “Thanks again.” I nodded at Carter, and he squeezed my shoulder.

  “Just call us if you need anything, okay?”

  “Will do.”

  In the car, Libby was still sound asleep and in her seat, strapped up safely. Tanner closed the back door and stood at my side before I got in.

  “You good?” he asked.

  “Absolutely. It’s not the first fever she’s had or tooth she’s cut. It’s just shitty for her.”

  “True, but still, we’re here if you need anything.” He pulled me close and patted me on the back. “It doesn’t matter if it’s the middle of the night. Got it?”

  I stepped away and opened the car door. “Got it.” I smiled at him. “Go and relax with Carter. I’ll yell if I need anything.”

  With a nod, he backed away, giving me a small wave.

  Before long, I was at home and running Libby a bath, hoping it would help her relax a little more and hopefully exhaust her so she’d have a better chance of sleeping. While the water was running and Libby, who’d woken with a lower temperature and a happier mood, was crawling around my bedroom floor, I took the time to shoot out a couple of texts to organize cover for tomorrow. Thankfully, tomorrow’s specials were already prepared, and would only need twenty minutes in the oven to get ready for the morning rush.

  I had faith Katie would manage just fine filling in for me.

  I contemplated letting Scott know I wouldn’t be around, even though it was one of the rare shifts he wasn’t working with me. My fingers hovered over my cell before I shook my head and placed it in my back pocket. He’d said himself he wasn’t ready for more, and while a text wasn’t a big deal in the scheme of things, I didn’t want to push him any harder. But that didn’t make me not want to reach out to him.