Fighter

by Katie Cross

As I slipped the covers over her and pressed a kiss to her forehead, I knew that I'd never change anything. Even if Ava continued to be weird with me, I'd love her. Even if she chose Serafina over me, I'd love her.

  When I slipped out of Ava's room, Serafina still stood in the middle of the room, muttering something under her breath as she jabbed at the remote with her thumb.

  “Stupid thing.”

  It might have been the positive parenting moment that I'd just had upstairs, or the power of the night with unfiltered Serafina and a happy Ava. Or it may have just been a gradual weakening of my guard that had finally given way. But I jogged down the stairs, strode over, and took the remote from her hands. Then I didn't give her hands back.

  With one press, I had the TV off and the remote tossed on the couch. The only light in the room came from the slight glow of Ava's night light upstairs and the light from around the corner of the light over the stove. My palms held Sera's hands in mine, and I could feel her breath in the stillness that followed.

  “Thanks,” she whispered, but I couldn't remember why.

  My hand lifted, brushing a stray hair away from her face. The tip of my finger traced the edge of her face. I felt like a totally different man. Distantly aware of every move I made, but watching as if I were someone else. As if I wasn't going against all wisdom. As if I wasn't planning on laying the deepest kiss on her lips that I could possibly imagine.

  “Sera,” I whispered.

  Her breath hitched as I lowered my face until I was close enough to feel the burn of her heat. My hand settled on her neck, my thumb tracing her cheekbone. The bruise from her brother was a light shadow now.

  Being this close to her had never felt this good in my dreams the past few nights, and I thought my dreams would never be as good as reality. When her hair rustled as she tilted her head back to look into my eyes, the sweet scent of coconut rose with it.

  My other arm snaked around her back and pulled her into me. She sucked in a sharp breath as I gently pulled her chest into mine, careful of her rib. She hesitated, then set her hands on my shoulders. I could feel the imprint of each of her fingers burn into me.

  “Tell me now if you want me to stop,” I whispered thickly, “and I will let you go. But if you tell me otherwise, I want to do what I've been dying to do since you walked in the gym.”

  Her eyes were mere glimmers in the darkness as she studied me, and I wondered what she saw. Did she fear me like she feared her brother? Did she want me to ravish her with a kiss that would burn us both?

  How could she not feel this power between us?

  Words came to her lips, but never materialized. She seemed locked in a battle until her hand slipped across my collar bone and onto my neck. I shivered at the heat of her palm on my open skin.

  Her hand came to my face next, the palm resting against my cheek. Starved for the touch, I closed my eyes and leaned into it. Her fingers curled slightly, accepting the desperate movement.

  “Ben,” she whispered. “I—”

  The crushing sound of my phone broke the quiet house. I muttered a curse when the ringtone of the song Let the Bodies Hit the Floor peeled through the air. If it were any other caller, I could have ignored it.

  But I couldn't. Not this one. This call was trouble.

  I pressed my cheek to hers and drew in another tantalizing, torturous breath. The coconut twined through my nose until it hit my brain and I thought I'd lose it. My grip on her waist increased until I thought I'd drop her to the couch and kiss her there, but I pulled away. The moment shattered.

  “I'm sorry,” I whispered, my lips against her cheek. “I can't ignore that.”

  With a growl, I let her go, stalked to the other side of the room, and clicked the accept button just to get the stupid song to shut up. Then I snapped, “What?” into the phone.

  “Benjamin,” my sister-in-law Mallory drawled, but there was an edge of sharpness to her tone that didn't mean anything positive. “Always so good to hear your radiant voice. I call with news. Brace yourself. You aren't going to like it.”

  15

  Serafina

  When Benjamin shoved away from me and crossed the room like a wary panther, my mind scattered like a dozen whirling butterflies.

  Geeeeez. What just happened?

  My hands trembled as I lowered to the couch and pushed my hair out of my face. Had I dreamed all that? The look in his eyes as he crossed the room to me, grabbed my hands, and then my heart? Hadn't I dreamed of this moment every day of my life the past few days and maybe before that too?

  Yes.

  And it ended on a phone call.

  Disbelief permeated my every thought, followed by an intense rage. Couldn't he just ignore the phone? Not that the sharp, grating tones of Let The Bodies Hit the Floor were exactly subtle.

  Who had that kind of ringtone anyway?

  I'd heard his ring before and it was the normal trill of a cell phone. If he'd programmed that song for someone in particular, maybe it meant something else. With a shake of my head, I stopped that train.

  I should be grateful to whoever called.

  Benjamin was, no doubt, feeling affection for me. I'd brought him a delicious dinner, gifts for his daughter, even cookie dough which would soften any mortal's heart, and snuggled up to his daughter. Of course he wanted to kiss me, the lonely old codger. Because of me, he didn't have to wrestle his daughter's braids in the morning. If he'd get out more, maybe he wouldn't be so desperate.

  That didn't sound right, but in my half-delirious state, and with trails of fire in place of where his hands had been on my body, I went with it.

  Desperate.

  Yes.

  He was just lonely and I was here. Is this why nannies ended up getting in trouble with the fathers of the children they took care of? The blurring of boundaries had powerful effects in a dark house after a satisfying day.

  Except, no. I wasn't a nanny. No nanny came over on her day off, and certainly not to crackling tension like today had.

  Or did they?

  Frustrated now, I rubbed a hand over my face. Ben spoke in the background, and I was now immensely grateful for the caller. Not only had they given me a chance to pull back together, but to stop us moving this forward before I made one thing very clear: I wasn't a kiss-and-go person. If he wanted to kiss me, he had to commit to something more than a little extra action after the kid went to bed.

  That was not me.

  And, as I glanced at a picture of him and Ava on a carousel together, where both had the same pained smile that said they didn't want to pose for a picture, I knew that wasn't him either. The fact that I'd even had the thought made me feel a little guilty. He'd be offended if he knew I'd worried about that.

  Just as I'd pulled my brain back together enough that I knew I needed to get out of there, Benjamin ended the call. He stood there for a moment, staring at the very subtle glow of lights from downtown Pineville that came from his front windows. Something in his silhouette made me tense.

  Uh oh.

  “Benjamin?” I asked quietly.

  He tossed his phone onto a nearby couch, then rubbed a hand across the back of his neck.

  “Everything okay?”

  “It's my mom,” he said.

  Carefully, I straightened up, worried he'd snap shut like a clam if I moved too quickly. “She okay?” I asked.

  He shook his head. “Heart attack. She's in the ICU right now.”

  “Oh, no.”

  He turned to face me then, his mask a face of glass. I'd seen this Benjamin before, but it had been so lost in the recent warmth and amusement and affection that I'd forgotten just how distant he could be. The fact that he'd actually spoken about his mother today, and it hadn't been overly warm, clued me in that a disaster of a mess existed below that veneer. After losing his father, I imagined the prospect of being orphaned and going through all that again must be utterly terrifying.

  “How can I help?” I asked.

  He blinked several t
imes, as if he'd just been dunked in cold water and couldn't reorient. I knew the feeling. The silence lasted for several beats before he said, “I need to go out there and see her. Need to call Mav. Bethany might be able to take Ava. If not, I could take her with me I guess . . .” He grimaced. “No, Ava's terrified of Mallory and Mom wasn't ever very . . . grandmotherly.”

  He trailed away, pacing now, but I doubted he realized it. I cleared my throat.

  “I can stay with her.”

  He paused, looked at me, and shook his head. “I can't ask that of you.”

  “Why not?”

  “It's too much.”

  “Are you mansplaining that to me?” I quipped, but there was an edge in it he seemed to respond to. He stared at me, eyes narrowed, as if sussing out whether I was lying. The thought of a few days with Ava wasn't that daunting. The only difference would be a few hours in the morning. I could work with Dagny to switch the hours before school around, then make it up to her later.

  “No,” he said. “I just . . . that's a lot to ask.”

  “It's not that much more than I do now,” I pointed out. “Plus, it would be easier on Ava if I stay here with her. She'd be at home in her usual routine.”

  The first of his resistance seemed to crumble, so I pressed my point.

  “And you can pay me for it, if that makes you feel better, but I don't need it. I'll happily do it for a friend. We're friends, Ben.”

  His expression tightened at the word friend. I feared for him and his family. Wanted him to jerk me back against his hard body and kiss me until both of us couldn't breathe. But the moment had broken, and I couldn't fight the feeling that he internally flailed around now.

  His phone rang with a far gentler tune. The name Maverick flashed across the screen before he looked back to me with a vulnerable, frazzled uncertainty.

  “You're sure?”

  “Positive,” I said easily. “Ava and I got this.”

  16

  Serafina

  The next day, Ava looked at me over a glass of milk and rolled her eyes. My phone vibrated for the third time in thirty seconds.

  With a sigh, I picked it back up.

  Benjamin: Final thing, I swear! I forgot she has a dentist appointment Wednesday after school.

  “Is that my dad again?” she asked with teenager-like exasperation. I grinned and popped the last of a cookie in my mouth.

  “You know it, sister.”

  My phone gave another little buzz.

  Benjamin: The insurance cards are in the top drawer.

  * * *

  Serafina: We've got this. I already knew about the dentist and I was the one that put the cards there. Take care of yourself and your family. Ava and I are enjoying cookies before we launch into homework and laundry, then a walk at the river.

  * * *

  Benjamin: Thank you, Sera. Seriously.

  I sent him a heart emoji. While Ava had a huge gulp of milk, I followed a whim and sent a quick text to my brother. My parents had only been gone a full day, but I'd want to engage with him eventually. Text seemed like the first step, and he hadn't replied yesterday.

  Serafina: Hey bro, just checking in. Mom made her killer pot roast and I have leftovers with your name on them. Stop by the Diner tomorrow and I'll have them for you.

  Once that was sent, I shoved the phone into my back pocket with the thought that maybe Talmage didn't want to talk with me.

  Ava gave me an expectant stare as she chewed through the last of her second cookie. A sleepless night separated me from what happened with Benjamin, and now that Ava peered me right in the eyes, I gratefully shoved those thoughts away. It seemed far easier to face her knowing I hadn't kissed her father. Wanted to, but hadn't.

  Still dreamed about it, though.

  “What do you want to do next?” I asked.

  She hesitated. “I get to choose?”

  “You bet.”

  She grabbed a napkin and patted the milk off her lips while her gaze darted around the room. Nervously she asked, “Can we play with my dolls?”

  “Sure.”

  “Really?”

  “Of course.”

  Blinking, she just stared at me. One eyebrow rose. “You'll play with me?”

  “I'm looking forward to it.”

  Her head tilted back slightly, as if she wasn't ready to believe that, but she eventually slid off the stool and headed toward the stairs. Her bedroom awaited at the top, a six-year-olds best disaster of toys, doll clothes, and discarded sandals strewn around the room. She glanced over her shoulder, as if to make sure I actually followed.

  When I folded myself on the floor near her dollhouse, she sat on her knees next to me. With a hand halfway to her favorite doll, she stopped again.

  “Are you going to get on your phone while I play?”

  “Nope.”

  “Oh.” Her body relaxed a little. “Okay, well, I'll be the purple one. You be the one with the green dress. Pretend that we're at a tea party and the queen is gonna come and we're wearing our best dresses.”

  I had to stifle twinges of both despair and love. First, she lived with an all-male father that couldn't comprehend this little-girl world. While he probably tried really hard, sitting down to play with dolls at a tea party had to be torturous. Secondly, I had a feeling that her Mom had left a cemetery of broken promises behind. Was Ava so suspicious of my plan to play with her because those promises had been made in the past, but never fulfilled?

  Or fulfilled in front of a phone?

  I brushed those thoughts aside to cast my voice in a high-pitched tone that made Ava giggle, and the happy sound sent tremors all the way to my toes.

  When she laughed, she looked the most like her father.

  Oh, yes. We'd be just fine.

  That evening, after an hour of dolls, a walk around the river, and a quiet dinner, Ava lay sleeping in her room. I stared at Benjamin's bed as if it would swallow me whole.

  The master bedroom filled up part of the main floor just beneath Ava. As long as I kept the door cracked open, I'd be able to hear her if she called out in the night. It was a sprawling room, with a large king-sized bed, a subdued headboard, and a footstool at the end that housed extra blankets. He had a walk-in closet with clothes on only one side. Everything was almost pristine except for a little dust here and there. But why? His house was an utter disaster without me, but this room almost sterile? He probably spent little time in here, and I wondered why. The decorations were as exciting as cardboard.

  I walked past his bed and into an equally heartless bathroom. Tiled floors. Massive, jetted tub. Walk-in shower with glass panes and two sprays, one from overhead and one from the wall.

  Yes, please.

  The room smelled slightly spicy, like aftershave and men's deodorant mixed together. I peeked through his shower caddy, amused to find a bar of what appeared to be goat's milk soap that smelled like pine trees.

  Fluffy towels lined two racks, and a separate room housed the toilet. The entire master bedroom and bathroom were bigger than the loft I rented.

  A bit lost, I wandered back to his bedroom and stared at the bed. The duvet was a slate gray, with navy blue sheets and fluffy pillows I suspected he didn't even use. A nightstand with little more than lip balm and a book on fighting sat next to his bed. Benjamin's life was . . . barren. Almost sterile. Like he avoided home or something.

  After I forced myself to change into my pajamas and turn out the lights, I lay my head on his pillow and drew in a deep breath.

  Benjamin.

  Like he surrounded me.

  The luxury of sleeping in his very firm bed, without him, made me giggle a little bit. He'd offered it on his way out of the house, saying he'd changed the sheets, but I hadn't thought much of it until now. There were rooms that could be guest bedrooms, but he hadn't bothered to buy the necessary furniture for it.

  A good friend would sleep on the couch, but I had long since ceased thinking of myself as just a friend. Neither of us
had ever said the word nanny. Official Organizer? Mistress of the Mercedy Life? No, the moment on Sunday afternoon when I realized I wanted to be with him instead of alone at my new place, with a new world to explore, I knew this was different. That I'd given up on keeping things totally platonic.

  No, I was more than that to Ben and Ava, but what that was, I wasn't sure yet.

  With a quick flick of the lamp next to his bed, the room fell into darkness. I stared at the ceiling, wondering what Ben thought about before he went to sleep, when my phone illuminated with a new text message.

  Benjamin: Things go okay?

  * * *

  Serafina: Beautifully. She's such an amazing kid, Ben. How are things there? Mom okay?

  * * *

  Benjamin: Can I call?

  * * *

  Serafina: Of course.

  Seconds later, my phone sang. I accepted the call and said, “Hey.”

  “Hey.” His voice was soft and weary-sounding. “Thanks. I hate texting.”

  I grinned even though he couldn't see it, and spiraled a piece of hair around my finger. He definitely hated texting. “I know. This is better because I like hearing your voice. So tell me what's happened today. What's going on there?”

  “Mom is stable. Sometimes responsive but pretty out of it. They've already put a stent or something in. She needs hardware or . . . a pacer? I don't know. “ He paused for a moment, as if totally overwhelmed. Then someone spoke in the background. A few breaths later he returned.

  “Just a sec.”

  The distinct sound of rustling, doors opening, and then a ding followed.

  “You still with me?” he asked.

  “Always,” I said softly, and hoped he didn't hear the double meaning in the words. It sounded like he was walking now.