by Mary Calmes
“You didn’t drink, so I had to do something else to loosen you up.”
“But you got so hungry, we had to walk to get pizza.”
“Yeah. Instead of getting laid, I overate and barfed,” he muttered, still annoyed after all these years.
I laughed, remembering how miserable he was.
He grabbed my thighs hard with his strong hands. “But it kinda worked, ’cause you felt so bad for me you gave me a blowjob.”
“First one ever.”
“Best one ever.”
“I do better now,” I said implacably.
“Anytime you wanna show me, you just g’head.”
“Nice of you to volunteer to let me practice.”
“I’m selfless that way.”
I smiled down at him and he moved under me, wriggling until he had me where he wanted, his groin snugly notched against my crease.
“So yes on the talk?”
“Yes on the talk,” I conceded.
His smile should have blinded me, as bright as it was.
Chapter Nine
IT WAS one of those things: I had no idea how much I would enjoy having minions until I was suddenly gifted with them.
When I went to work that Sunday morning—since I was playing catch-up from the day before—instead of having to run back to the truck when I forgot my tape measure, Brandon went. Instead of hunting around for the stud finder, Ryder scrambled up from where he was sitting on the concrete floor and darted to the other side of the room and got it for me. I had a laser measure I held against the wall that both boys thought was awesome. They wanted to try my drywall stilts and stand on the top step of the ladder and get up on the scaffolding. It was a no on all those things, and they were crestfallen. I made it better by taking them for ice cream, before lunch, even though it was in the sixties, and afterward I took them over to Gail’s for an hour so they could jump on the indoor trampoline with her kids.
“So,” she said sweetly, her voice at odds with the knowing smile. “You seem to be in possession of Mitch Thayer’s children.”
“It’s not what you think. I’m just doing him a favor.”
“Uh-huh,” she agreed.
I rolled my eyes and told the boys we had to go.
“Wish we could stay,” Brandon announced. “But Hagen needs us.”
“He really needs us,” Ryder echoed.
I took them for lunch. We had pizza and that was it, I was pretty much a god at that point because the kind I got them had no kale on it.
“Kale pizza?” I asked, horrified.
Ryder nodded. “With pine nuts and jicama and organic, cage-free chicken.”
“The chicken sounds all right.”
Brandon shook his head as he scarfed down another slice of pizza. “Uh-uh, Hagen, it was all gross all the time.”
I laughed. “Sounds like your buddy Eric didn’t want you guys to have anything bad for you.”
“He hated us,” Ryder chimed in.
“I don’t think so. I think he just didn’t understand what balance is.”
The look Brandon shot me said he was not convinced.
I had to run by Ursa Major, my friend Lizzie Creed’s shop, to pick up some window frames she had distressed for me, and the boys disappeared into the back room with her to watch as she pieced together a stained glass window. Her husband, Earl, brought me out a cup of coffee as soon as he saw me because he knew I liked the chicory he put in along with the vanilla cream he made from scratch.
“So,” he said, nodding, “Mitch Thayer’s kids, huh?”
“Oh God, not you too.”
“He works fast,” he said, smirking at me. “You gotta admire his tenacity.”
“It’s not—”
“To know what he wanted and to go get it… yeah, I admire the hell outta that.”
I groaned and yelled for the boys.
That evening as I walked with Jessie and the boys, I thought about how Mitch had hugged and kissed us all when he left.
He’d started with Ryder and gone up, picking up each kid and his sister before reaching me.
“Do not pick me up,” I warned him.
The kiss I got nearly sent me to my knees.
When he left there was no missing the rakish grin or the smiles on the boys. They liked me, my house, my weird pet, my job, and my truck. They enjoyed following me around, helping me test how sturdy a staircase was by running up and down it, enjoyed the people I knew offering them all kinds of treats, seeing inventions, and riding the zip-line Jeric Nejem used when he traveled between ranger stations. I was a hit; there were no two ways about it.
After dinner that night, they settled in to watch Jaws with me before Jessie put the kibosh on that.
“No?” I asked, all three of us looking up at her innocently from the couch.
“Absolutely not,” she told me. “I would actually like to go scuba diving with my nephews at some point in my life, and if you guys watch that, it’s over.”
I saw her logic.
When Mitch called to talk to the boys, I gave up my phone and made myself scarce, but after he finished talking to them, hearing all about their Sunday, and telling them he loved them, he wanted to talk to me.
“I’ll be home Tuesday afternoon, so I can pick them up from school. You just need to drop them off that morning as well.”
“That’s what I figured, it’s not a problem.”
“Or you can have Jess do it. She will, if you have something else you have to do.”
“I think they want both of us. Jess and I are thinking of doing something fun tomorrow night, like spaghetti or sushi. Make their first day special.”
“That’s an interesting mix.”
“We’re interesting people.”
He snorted out a laugh. “Yes, you are.”
“Okay, so I’ll talk—”
“You trying to get rid of me?” he asked quickly.
I heard it, the concern in his voice. “No, I just figured you were probably beat,” I replied gently, not wanting him to think I was hanging around for my turn.
“And I am, but it’s nice to have you on the phone all worried.”
“Worried?”
“You’re thinking ‘I don’t wanna horn in on his time with his kids, but I’d like to talk to him too because I miss him already.’”
I almost choked, reminded of how well he knew me. “Who said I missed you?”
He snorted.
“Why’re you doing this?” I asked hesitantly, wanting to know but also not know at the same time.
“Doing what?”
“Don’t act all innocent,” I warned him. “I’m getting the full court press here with the kids and your deceptively sweet sister and all of them saying nice things about me all day long.”
He chuckled. “All I heard about was that Hagen has cool toys at work. You didn’t actually let them use the nail gun, did you?”
“I did,” I said grumpily. “It’s called supervision and proper eye protection.”
“You suck, Hage. How am I supposed to compete with that?”
My smug grunt was loud. “You can’t.”
“Why do you have stilts?”
“For the drywall.”
“Ah.”
“The zip-line was the big draw.”
“I can’t believe Jeric let you do that. He doesn’t let anybody do that.”
It hit me. “You asked him.”
“Hell yeah, I asked him, but he’s still holding that car thing against me.”
“That ‘car thing’?” I asked snidely. “You put his prized possession in the ocean.”
“But I said I was sorry.”
I couldn’t stop laughing.
“I did.”
“Your father was pissed.”
“Well, yeah, he had to pay for it.”
I took a breath. “How are your folks?”
“They’re good, getting older,” he mused, sounding like I used to when I spoke of my parents. We had both b
een blessed with good ones.
“I heard they were thinking of moving back here.”
“No. They have friends and a life there in Phoenix. They’re not going anywhere.”
“Why did I think they were in Portland?”
“Because that’s where they moved after Jess left home.”
“Oh, okay, that makes sense.”
“They’ve been in Phoenix a while now.”
“Which means they’ve put down roots and all, but really, they won’t leave the valley of the sun even for their grandchildren?”
“They have their doctors too.”
“Ah.”
“Plus, with the kids not being with me full-time, I’m not enough of a draw to move back to a town they never loved.”
“Yeah, they tolerated it here, but they didn’t love it.”
“Dad didn’t like Brookings at all, so they moved us here to Benson, but in the long run, this place wasn’t for them either.”
“Benson, named after Clifford L. Benson,” I said seriously, “president of the Benson Lumber and Box Company that closed down in 1965, whose building you just bought, is, in fact, not for everyone.”
“Oh, that’s marvelous. Do you give tours too?”
“Why, yes, yes, I do, every other Tuesday and on holidays that it doesn’t rain.”
He was laughing on his end, and it was a nice sound.
“Mitch—”
“You were saying about my kids?”
“I was saying that they’re great.”
“Well, yes, of course, but what else?”
I cleared my throat. “I just got a lot of questions today, and I don’t want them to get too attached to me.”
“And why’s that?”
“You know why,” I said sharply, defensively. “If things don’t work out, I don’t want them to be sad.”
“We’ll all be sad, baby.”
It was both annoying and touching, how he was talking, like he was making real plans around me already. “I just—they like me too much already, and it’s not fair to the next guy you date if—”
“Hagen,” he croaked.
“Yeah?”
“Listen. I don’t wanna fuck around with this anymore, all right?”
“What’re you—”
“I want you back.”
All the playfulness from earlier was gone, leaving only vulnerability and honesty and his thick, ragged voice.
“I’m sick that I had to leave town. The timing was total shit because if I’d been there today, hanging out with you too, I’d be lying in bed beside you right now.”
“I don’t— That’s not—”
“I would be,” he assured me without a drop of bravado. “No doubt in my mind.”
“Mitch—”
“I want to talk about you when I get home. I want to know what happened.”
“So you said,” I sighed, worried about what I would say, sinking into my bed splayed out across it as I was.
“I want you to forgive me.”
“I did,” I assured him. “I just didn’t know I did until we were talking last night.” I knew myself well and I would not have been able to consider having him back in my life, ever, if I truly hadn’t forgiven him.
“Yeah?”
“Yes.”
“You forgive me?”
“I do.”
“Then fuckin’ act like it. Tell me we can have dinner when I get home.”
“You need to spend time with the boys.”
“I know what to do with my own boys,” he stated, “thank you.”
I’d overstepped. I had a habit of doing that. Scrambling to sit up, I heard my breath hitch. “Mitch, I didn’t mean to—”
“Stop,” he soothed me. “All I meant was that me spending time with the boys and me spending time with you do not need to be mutually exclusive. It’s called family time for a reason.”
Oh God. “Family?” I croaked, about ready to hyperventilate.
“Don’t get scared now.”
I had to be honest. “I don’t know if I could ever be a father to those boys, Mitch.”
“Well, that’s okay since they already have one.”
“You know what I mean. I don’t think I should be anyone’s parent,” I said, rolling off the bed, pacing in front of it, from where I was, able to see the boys using my Playstation.
“Can I ask a question before you pass out?”
“How do you know I’m gonna pass out?” I gasped.
“I can hear you gettin’ all panicky.”
Fantastic. “Jesus, I’m useless,” I groaned, feeling ridiculous and stupid.
“No,” he corrected me gently. “I just want to know something.”
“Sure,” I rushed out, trying not to sound any more pathetic.
“Have the boys eaten?”
“What?” I asked, taken off guard, stopping midstride.
“Did you feed my kids, Hage?”
“Of course,” I said irritably. It was after nine already, was he kidding?
“Shower?”
“What is this, a checklist?” I was getting more annoyed by the second.
“Just answer.”
“Well, yes, Mitchell, they’ve showered,” I said, upset that he doubted me.
“Homework?”
“Done,” I snapped. “And I might add that Bran says I’m way better at math than you.”
“You’re a contractor,” he replied. “I should hope so.”
“You know I don’t need the damn third degree here, I took really good care of—”
“Yes,” he acknowledged, cutting me off and deflating my anger at the same time. “I know you did, Hage. I know you took great care of my kids, and do you know why?”
Oh, the man was clever. I knew better. I was out of practice with him or I would have seen the ambush coming for miles.
“You’re a natural caretaker, Hage, always have been. It’s one of the many reasons I fell so hard for you in the first place.”
“You’re an ass.”
“Yes,” he agreed, chuckling. “And one more thing you need to remember.”
Dear God. “What’s that?”
“My boys need friends more than anything else, and you’re already that.”
What was I going to do, argue? “Yeah, okay.”
He fell quiet, and we stayed there on the phone like we used to be, quietly listening to each other breathe. We used to fall asleep like that, with the other on speaker. It was a lot of history in one shot.
I cleared my throat, not ready to excavate any more of my soul for him. The piece I’d already flashed was enough for one evening. “I should probably let you get some sleep. You have to be impressive tomorrow for your meetings.”
“Baby, I am always impressive,” he said, so full of himself, so smug.
“Oh God,” I groaned, but it came out deeper, thicker from my throat because I was tired—always was, I worked hard all day—and I’d had the kids as well.
“Don’t do that.”
“What? Groan?”
“Yeah,” he said, his voice ragged.
“And why not?”
“Because it sounds like sex, Hage,” he ground out, “and I have fond memories of all the oh Gods that came out of your mouth.”
“Mitch—”
“When I was buried inside of you.”
I gave up trying to banter with him. I couldn’t. Everything in me was too raw. I was ready to give him a chance, yes, but I was terrified at the same time and it was causing an odd mix of longing as well as the desire to run in my brain.
“Hage? Do you remember that?”
“Of course I do.”
“Oh yeah, tell me.”
“You’re incorrigible.”
“I hope so.”
I could feel it: the warmth in my groin as the pulse of arousal stirred my cock. It was the rough want in his voice and the memory of the kiss, his hands on me, possessively, hungrily. “Not gonna lie, I want to sleep with yo
u.”
“I know that. I’m not stupid.”
“You’re really such an ass,” I sighed. “Why do you have to ruin a perfectly good—”
“Just let me see you, all right? Let’s start with that.”
“But if you meet someone that you—”
“No. I won’t meet anybody, Hage. I can’t see anybody but you anymore. Never could, really. Just fooling myself.”
“You talk a good game, Thayer.”
“It’s not a game. You’ll see.”
I grunted.
“Don’t make that noise either.”
And I laughed because every sound meant something when there was history like ours.
LATER, WHEN the house was quiet, I settled in my bed and discovered I had missed a call from Ash. I texted to see if he was still up and was surprised when he called.
“It’s still early,” he told me from somewhere with a pounding techno beat.
“You can call me tomorrow,” I offered. “Sounds like you’re busy.”
“No, I’m—hold on.”
I waited while there were muffled noises and some high-pitched squeals and squeaks and a noise like he might have dropped the phone.
“Hey.”
“Hey,” I said, smiling into the phone. “How are you?”
“I’m all right.”
Didn’t sound like it. His voice sounded hollow, like he was wrung out. “Yeah? You sure?”
“I, uh, I got the part.”
“Oh, shit, that’s fantastic! I knew you would. I never had a doubt.”
“I know you didn’t.”
Instantly I quieted. He sounded… off. “Why aren’t you happy?”
Silence.
“Ash?”
“Is it good news?”
“What, getting the part?”
“Yeah.”
“Are you kidding? It’s awesome!” I whooped with joy because I was honestly so excited for him. I knew how much he wanted big things for his life. “Is it all over social media yet?”
“No, not yet.”
“Big announcement in Variety or something?”
“Man, how old are you?”
“Shuddup,” I said, smiling into the phone. “Gimme my moment to be this close to a celebrity.”
“You could be much closer to one, if you play your cards right.”
“Is that so?”
“Oh yes.”
“You’re being all hot and flirty.”
“Well, yes,” he purred, slick and suave.