The Girl He Loves: A Second Chance Romantic Comedy

by Rose, Kristi

  Moments later, I get an email saying the kit has been submitted and will ship to the laboratory today. I forward it to Justin and his lawyer just in case they want to say I didn’t submit it within the given timeframe.

  Now we wait.

  And I’m the champ at waiting. I’ve put off luxuries and vacations and so much more as I work to finish school. As I wait for child support checks. I got this.

  Inside the boutique, I’m in the back sorting the new inventory and making a list of what needs to be done today when Jayne enters.

  “Hello, darling. I brought scones and tea and fortune cookies.” Dressed in a navy-blue leather shift dress with a V-neck, bright sunflower-yellow three-inch heels, her hair pulled into a French twist, Jayne looks the part of a successful businesswoman. A woman whose life isn’t a mess.

  She puts her containers on the table next to me. Then hands me a fortune cookie. “Open it. Mine this morning was spectacular. It said, ‘You will find your love today.’ Which I did. Because after I got Cordie on the bus, Stacy and I sexed each other up in the kitchen. That man may approach sex like a mathematical equation that needs to be solved, but damn if I don’t enjoy it every time. Who knew having an orgasm among the carbs would be so glorious. Which is why I’m late, sorry.” She clasps her hands and points to my cookie, eager for me to open it.

  Jayne lives her life by fortune cookies. She has a jar of saved fortunes she’s collected over the years. On bad days, she’ll go to the jar and take one out, looking for inspiration or a pick-me-up. Many of her saved fortunes say, Go buy shoes.

  “Okay,” I tease. “I’ll open it, but don’t expect any hanky panky between us in the back room.” But even as I say it, there’s not a lot of merriment in my voice.

  Jayne laughs, but it doesn’t last long. She narrows her eyes. “You all right?”

  I nod and focus on opening the wrapper. “I’m good.” I stop there, not wanting to sound like the loon I did last night.

  I gently slide the fortune from between the folded cookie halves. Then I unfold the paper. I read, “Don’t determine the end of the story by the middle.”

  Jayne quirks her head to the side. “I suppose that’s decent.”

  My response is to burst into tears. So much for being in control.

  “I’m sorry,” I say, flapping my hands by my eyes, as if fanning them will make my tears dry up. “I don’t know why I’m crying.”

  Jayne leans back against the worktable we use to unpack inventory, her hands on either side. “Well, first I’d say you’ve had a crazy few weeks. The latest with Justin is just rotten icing on a moldy cake.”

  I nod and wipe my nose on tissue paper that came in a box with Italian leather boots. “Never mind that he’s been stalking me. I still can’t wrap my head around that.”

  Jayne hands me a tissue. “And then there’s Dax.”

  I spill my guts. Everything. The report I saw online. How I know he’ll leave, and I don’t want him to go.

  “But that’s wonderful,” she says.

  I shake my head. “It’s not wonderful to use a person, because that’s what I’m doing. I’m using him to make my life better. To rescue me. How many times have I said I don’t need a knight in shining armor?” I don’t wait for an answer. “Well, I guess I lied because this guy’s been around my house fixing stuff for two weeks, and I want to keep him. I want to enslave him.”

  Her brows go up. “That’s a wee bit dramatic, don’t you think? Enslave? Really?”

  I plop into the chair beside the table. “Yes, it’s totally dramatic, but I have all these feelings. They’re so intense. It’s like I’m….” I struggle to find the best way to describe the turmoil inside me.

  Jayne says, “Would you say you feel enslaved by your feelings?”

  I glance up in time to see the twitches on her lips, as she struggles to restrain her smile.

  “Yes,” I say. “I’m enslaved. Am I going to live that down?”

  Jayne shakes her head. “Certainly not. And when I tell the others…”

  I bury my head in my hands and groan.

  Jayne says, “You know, having all these feelings is normal. You’re working it out. That’s all.”

  “You’re right, but I feel like a douchebag. Like I’ve been using him.”

  Jayne pulls up a chair, and before she sits, she grabs the box of scones. Once in her seat, she flips it open and offers me one.

  I take it and break off the pointy end.

  Jayne says, “Do you think the issue is that you are using him, or maybe there’s something more?” She takes a scone and bites off the end.

  I play with mine. “Like what?”

  She studies me a second before she says, “Maybe you have stronger feelings than—”

  “No, it’s too soon. We barely know each other.”

  Jayne gives me a puzzled look. “But you actually do know him. It’s not like you just met.”

  “We’re different people now,” I argue.

  She drops her scone onto the table. “All I’m saying is, maybe you have a crush on Dax? Maybe that’s why you envision him taking care of you. Maybe you’re tired of going it alone. All of which is normal.”

  I do one of those ragged breaths people take after they’ve been crying as I work to calm down. “Yeah, both Tyler and I have a crush on Dax. Different crushes, of course.”

  “Of course.” She nods. “It’s been a while since you’ve been in this place—the crush zone.” She smiles at me. “Maybe give yourself a little grace to fumble your way through it.” She points to the fortune cookie. “And maybe, just maybe, you shouldn’t make any more assumptions about what needs to happen until you have to make a decision about what to do. Because right now, do you have to make any decision?”

  She has a point. I shake my head. “You don’t think I’m being unfair to him?”

  Jayne smooths her dress. “That’s a different question. And one I don’t think you’d like to hear the answer to.”

  Chapter 24

  Tuesday Night

  By the time I get home, I’ve composed myself and had enough self-talks that I’m thoroughly confused about how I feel.

  What I do know is when I see Dax, I experience happiness. What I’m confused about is the why. Am I happy because he’s there to protect and save me, or for reasons more genuine? Like I’m happy to see my friend.

  Dax is at the kitchen table working on his laptop. Tyler is next to him working on his homework.

  “What’s going on here?” I set the groceries for tacos on the kitchen counter.

  “The men are working,” Dax says with a wink.

  Tyler smiles up at me. “We’re using our big brains. I’m using mine to do math, and Dax is using his to show his football smarts.”

  The way he says it, I know he’s quoting Dax.

  I glance at Dax. “Trivia contest or something?”

  He shakes his head. “Proving I’m worthy.”

  What a cryptic answer. Or I’m reading into everything. Could be both.

  “Tacos?” I say.

  Tyler makes a face, and not a good one.

  “What? You like tacos,” I say.

  Tyler gives a nonchalant shrug. “I’m over tacos. Can we get takeout or have steak or something?”

  I feign disbelief. “You’re over tacos? No one gets over tacos. Tacos span time.” I look at Dax. “I blame you. You bring your fancy grilling technique and online food ordering skills to the house, and now my kid’s a food critic. He’s over tacos.”

  Dax laughs. “What if we call them street tacos. Put them on those smaller shells. Does that appeal to you?” he asks Tyler.

  Tyler gives a small nod, his nose raised in the air ever so slightly. “I’ll try it.”

  “I don’t have small shells,” I say.

  Dax says, “Do you have regular tortillas?”

  I nod.

  “We’ll just cut smaller ones from those.”

  Tyler gives a thumbs-up then taps his h
ead. “Big brains.”

  “Yep,” I say. My first thought is cutting smaller ones from the large ones is a waste. And something I would never ever do because money doesn’t grow on trees. But Dax is here, so we break the rules. And even though his idea is wasteful, it’s also frivolous and fun, and I love those things. I’d forgotten what frivolous feels like.

  I turn back to the groceries, not wanting Dax to see my face, worried the pleasure of my addiction to his disruption of our lives will show.

  A chair behind me scrapes against the floor and, when I turn, Dax is lifting himself up.

  “Let me show you this alarm,” he says.

  I toss the few groceries in the fridge and follow Dax into the hallway, where the wall is devoid of any alarm system. Only his crutches lean against the wall.

  I look around confused. “Where is it?”

  “Right here,” he says and backs me up against the wall. With his hands on my hips, he dips his head to brush a kiss across my mouth. Three times. I melt into him.

  I mumble against his lips. “What are you doing?”

  “Saying hello.” When he presses his pelvis to mine, I nearly lose my mind with desire. I forget about everything that bogged my mind down today and let myself get lost in pleasure.

  As he braces himself with one hand against the wall, Dax moves the other hand up my shirt, and his lips are on my collar bone kissing a path toward my breast. I run a hand up his leg and under his athletic shorts and grasp him, stroking softly once. He sucks in a breath. My move fans the flames. He’s hard. I’m wet. His desire for me as strong as mine for him. And our need to quench this thirst carries both of us away. Our tempo increases. Dax’s hand slides from under my shirt to up my skirt where he toys with the seam of my panties. I tremble. He groans. Tyler’s chair scrapes across the floor in the kitchen.

  The sound brings me to my senses, and I push Dax away. He hobbles back, trying to balance on one leg, his hand over his man parts covering his erection.

  “Jeez, that got out of hand fast,” he says with a grin, leaning against the wall for support.

  I sink to the floor because my legs are weak and my hands are shaking and I still want him.

  Tyler comes into the room. “Can I start cutting the thingies?”

  “Yes,” Dax says.

  “No,” I say.

  Dax gives me the eye and glances down to his hands. His way of saying he needs Tyler to leave the room right away.

  “Okay,” I say to them both but look at Tyler. “You can cut them, but first you need to set everything up. Get out a cutting board and the tortillas. I’ll be there in a minute.”

  Tyler smiles and zips off back to the kitchen.

  Dax blows out a breath and gestures for me to follow him into the living room, then grabs his crutches. “Grab your phone,” he calls over his shoulder.

  In the living room, he’s plopped on the couch. I sit on the coffee table and face him, afraid to be next to him or I might jump his bones. My body is not ready to stop what we started.

  He takes my phone and adds an app. Once it’s loaded, he shows me where all the cameras are and how to check each one remotely. He shows me how to activate or deactivate the alarm, all from my phone. “You can do it from the website on your computer, too.”

  I smile. “Cool. Did it take long to install this?”

  Dax shakes his head. “No, and I got a few extra cameras thrown in because the technician is a fan. You’ll never have to worry about someone coming in here again without you knowing. You having this gives me peace of mind.” He shows me his phone. “I’m going to delete the app from my phone. Only you should have it. And you should change your password. I only had it to show you.”

  The gesture is sweet. He’s telling me he’s not going to invade my privacy the way Justin did. But I can’t help but read more into it. That he’s leaving. That he won’t have this connection with us. Ugh, I don’t know. Maybe I’m being stupid. Yet, it’s how I feel.

  My phone pings, and I check my email. “Look.” I show him the email. “The lab got the package, and the result will be available in twenty-four hours.”

  “Wow, that was fast.”

  I nod. “Yeah, I guess Justin paid for the fastest delivery possible. He really wants to be done with us.”

  “He’s an idiot.” Dax squeezes my knee.

  Tyler yells from the kitchen, “Okay, I’m ready.”

  Dax and I grin at each other. I stand as Dax’s phone rings. He glances at the screen, and a slight smile plays on his lips. He takes his earbuds from his pocket and places them in his ears. As he’s doing so, he says, “Hand me a crutch, will ya? I’m going to take this outside.” Then he answers the call. I hand him a crutch and watch him hobble out to the patio. Not looking back once.

  In the kitchen, I place my phone on the table next to Dax’s computer and go help Tyler.

  “Okay,” I say. “We need something round.” I take a plastic cup from the cabinet. “We can use this. Watch.” I flip the cup upside down and go around it with a butter knife. “If the knife doesn’t cut all the way, you hand it to me and I’ll finish the job.” Because handing him a butter knife is scary enough, I won't go with anything sharper.

  Standing on a kitchen step-stool so he can reach easier, Tyler gets right to work, a grin on his face. “This is cool.”

  I’m glad simple pleasures work for him.

  My phone chimes a message, and I walk to the table to check it. Only it’s not my phone but Dax’s computer. I don’t mean to read it, even though I do have snooping tendencies. But there’s the message, hanging out in the corner of the computer screen.

  It’s from his dad and it reads: Excited to have you as part of the team. I can have our realtor look for a place for you while she looks for us. Yes?

  And it’s like college all over again. Dax is leaving.

  Chapter 25

  Wednesday

  How I made it through last night will remain a mystery. Maybe it was because Dax was on his phone or computer most of the night doing whatever. The shit-eating grin on his face clarified that he was happy with whatever it was.

  I had some assignments to finish. After I got Tyler to bed, I stared at my notes for far too long, then finally got lost in my studies. When I shut it down at midnight, Dax was asleep on the couch.

  I set the alarm and went to bed, feeling miles away from him.

  Funny how a few weeks ago I challenged the universe to bring it, and here it all was. And the universe brought its A-game.

  I rise before my alarm and dress in silence as I trudge through my heavy thoughts.

  I’m in the kitchen making coffee when my phone pings with an incoming email. Out of habit, I glance to see if it’s anything important.

  It’s from the laboratory doing the paternity test. Holy crap, that was fast. I set my mug on the counter and stare at the email, leaving it unopened.

  Dax hops into the kitchen. “Hey, why didn’t you wake me when you went to bed? I woke up cuddling Tyler’s stuffed animal, thinking it was you.” He drops a kiss on my forehead.

  I glance between him and the phone.

  He pours coffee into the mug I abandoned. “What? Something wrong?”

  “The paternity results are in.”

  “No shit? What’s it say?” He grabs at my phone, but I hold it out of reach. “Come on, let’s see it.”

  “Dax, I feel like we should say things. I…”

  But I don’t know what. It’s so much, all these feelings.

  He brushes a hand down my cheek. “Babe, what are you afraid of?”

  “You leaving,” I say. The truth tumbles out. Not because he might be the father of my kid. But because the results of this test feel like something big that could make or break everything.

  Because somewhere between midnight and this morning, it dawned on me what Jayne meant. I love Dax. The thought of him not coming around anymore makes my heart race with anxiety and loneliness. All along, I’ve been preparing for him
to leave because I can’t imagine why he’d want to stay. What can I offer him? A ready-made family? He may not want that. Yes, the sex is out of this world. But a couple can't exist on sex alone.

  But I want him to do chores around my house because I want to share my house with him. Having him here this short time has been everything I hoped my marriage could have been and everything I imagine a healthy relationship should be. I don’t want to let that go.

  Acknowledging that I can’t control what happens now, and the fear that comes with that, causes a chain reaction of all my emotions, colliding and pouring out of me.

  This is about so much more than having someone to share the workload with. This is about love. I am in love with Dax. Heck, I probably have always been in love with him, having never really moved on. Because moving on from something that feels so right and natural feels so wrong and unnatural.

  Dear Lord, Justin was right. To a degree, Dax always stood between us. Not purposeful on my part, but as I struggled to make a difficult marriage work, I’m sure the realization that I walked away from something I wanted more was always there subconsciously.

  And here we are again.

  Tears stream down my face. “I know you’re taking that job in New York, and I’m happy you found something you want, but I don’t want you to go. And if you’re Tyler’s dad, does that mean I’ll have to send him to you there? How will that work? Because you can already tell that Tyler being out of my sight is not good for me. I don’t handle that well.”

  He pulls me into his arms. “Heather, why didn’t you talk this out with me? I thought we were trying to not repeat college.”

  I rest my forehead on his shoulder and give in to my tears.

  “Babe, what makes you think I’m taking the job in New York? I told you I didn’t want to work for my dad.”

  “I saw his text to you last night. While you were on the phone.”

  Dax groans. “My dad can’t take no for an answer. Which I’ve said to him at least one hundred times daily. That text didn’t say I took the job. It said he wanted me on the team. His way of telling me how disappointed he’ll be if I don’t take the job.”