“Sorry,” he holds up the spatula, “I’m mid flip, don’t want to burn anything.”
I nod and swallow as two sets of eyes study me.
Get it together. Get it together.
“Mommy, you need a chill pill,” Dante says through a laugh.
“Where did you learn that?” I look up to Troy, who shrugs.
“Don’t look at me.”
“We don’t take pills to chill around here, young man. You got that?!”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Troy ushers me into the seat next to him. “Have a seat,” he says, gently sitting me down. “I’ll make you some breakfast too.”
It’s clear both men think I’m on the verge of snapping, so I do what I’m told as Dante places a napkin across my lap. “It’s okay, Mommy, just relax.”
Dante stands on his seat, grabbing the carton and pours me some orange juice. After taking a sip, I glance over at him as Troy busies himself at the stove.
“I’m sorry you had a bad time.”
“It’s okay. Troy made it all better.”
I don’t miss Troy’s smile as he plates up our breakfast.
Dante crosses his silverware on his plate. “May I be excused? I’m full.”
“Only one game,” Troy says, “We’re leaving soon.”
“Yes, sir.”
I sip my coffee and eye Troy. “Where will you take him?”
“Camping at the lake. That okay?”
“Sure.”
With all the commotion this morning, I didn’t have time to drink him in. He’s dressed in a grey long john shirt that hugs his every muscle and somehow makes his eyes pop. His strawberry hair is getting longer, has more wave, and is brushed away from his face. His jaw covered in day-old stubble. He looks every part the rugged man. And I’m pretty sure I look every part the ragged woman. But none of that matters as I fight with my conscience about the events of the last twenty-four hours.
“I know what you’re thinking, and you need to stop,” Troy says, crumpling up his napkin and throwing it on his plate.
“I can’t help it. I drink one glass of wine,” I wince, “okay three, and decide to unplug, and he needed me. What if you weren’t here?”
“Don’t. I was here, and I’m so damned happy about that fact, so let me have my moment, okay?”
I nod, and he leans over and tips my chin, so I’m facing him.
“Promise me you won’t beat yourself up about it.”
“It was past eight, so I thought it was safe to relax.”
“You don’t have to explain it to me, Clarissa. I know you would never, ever, put him in harm’s way.”
“But I did. I knew those kids weren’t his friends, but I wanted so much for him to fit in somewhere. I’m a fucking high school teacher, I know how cruel kids can be. What was I thinking?”
“I was thinking the same. I’ve noticed he doesn’t invite friends over or get invited either. I was hoping for what you were. I’m just as guilty. But he’s special, too sensitive for those brutes. He’s got quirks, he’s different, and that’s okay. It’s more than okay.”
“How about the lining up of his toys,” I grin. “How they have to be just so. And the way he gets possessive about the weirdest stuff.”
“He’s a neat freak for sure.”
“Hey, don’t you dare touch that.”
We smile at each other.
“When he was just a baby, he was addicted to Animusic. He played those videos over and over and over again, and it took me a while to realize he was memorizing them. He was almost two the first time he climbed up to my PC and started using a mouse. He could barely talk in sentences then.”
“He’s scary smart.”
“What are we going to do?”
Troy shrugs. “Let him be him. Exactly what we’ve been doing.”
“They won’t understand him,” I say fearfully.
“Someone will,” he says intently. “Someday, maybe sooner, maybe later, someone is going to stop and take notice of how special he is and stake their claim in his life. Trust me. It’ll happen more than once.”
I sniff. “When did you get so good at saying the perfect thing?”
“I’m a practicing father. Was that all right?”
“Better than.”
A tear runs down my cheek, and he moves to sit next to me, studying it.
“What are you doing?” I ask as he leans in.
“It’s beautiful, you know,” he says, lifting it away with his thumb. “It’s a mother’s love.”
We’re so close. If just one of us gives, our lips will touch. Troy lingers as I inhale his scent, his masculinity. In seconds, I get lost in his stare, the fullness of his lips, the weight and gravity of our connection. This can’t happen.
“Excuse me,” I say, lifting only to bang my knee on the table. Troy curses under his breath as Dante returns from the living room. “Where are you going?” He asks as I move to retreat to my bedroom.
“To get dressed.” And scream in a pillow.
Sarah Jane’s Seven Layer Dip
Personal Assistant, Los Angeles
Makes 12 servings
1 hour
2 8 Oz. Packages Guacamole (Add garlic powder and salt to taste)
1 Cup Sour Cream
1/2 Cup Mayonnaise
2 9 Oz. Cans Bean Dip
1 Bunch Green Onions – Sliced
3 Tomatoes – Chopped
1 8 Oz. Can Sliced Black Olives (Optional)
1 8 Oz. Package Sharp Cheddar Cheese – Shredded
1 Jar Picante Sauce
Combine sour cream and mayonnaise together. Spread bean dip in 13x9 pan. Top with guacamole. Layer sour cream mixture next. Sprinkle with green onions, tomatoes, and olives. Cover with cheese and top with Picante sauce.
Serve with tortilla chips.
Clarissa
I’m sitting at my vanity as the boys get ready to head out. I’m still stunned by Troy’s words. They ring true. He knows his son. He’s caught onto his quirks, memorized his routine, and I can’t help but wonder how much of a mirror he thinks Dante is. I was an absolute mess at breakfast, ashamed and devastated, and somehow Troy managed to pull me from that place and make it…better. I decide to make it a point to thank him before they leave. And it’s the leaving I’m wrestling with, though I know Troy would never let any harm come to Dante. I bat away any notion that I’m jealous as I apply my lip balm.
Am I jealous?
The truth is, Troy wouldn’t take him without my permission, and I find myself at odds that he does have it, fully. I can trust him with his son.
I’m still spinning in that revelation when I see Troy in the mirror, shutting my bedroom door, his eyes trained on me as he twists the lock.
All words catch in my throat when I see the intensity in his gaze. He stalks toward me, stopping just behind me as I sit in wait.
He lifts a hand and gently runs his fingers through my wet strands, pulling my head back slightly before gathering the hair at the nape of my neck. I draw my brows in confusion as he reaches for one of the hair ties next to my brush and secures it around his fistful of my hair. I’m just about to speak when he leans down, and his warm lips connect with the slope of my neck. His open-mouthed kiss is gentle, sensual, and I feel myself lean into it. Slowly his lips roam up and down my collarbone, up and down, covering the length of my shoulder. Mouth parted, I watch his eyes close as he begins to deepen his kiss, adding the slide of his tongue, before pulling at my sweater and exposing my shoulder.
Stunned, I watch his assault alternating between licks and bites while his warm hands wipe away the wetness of his kiss. Panting, I can do nothing but watch while he leads, his fist in my hair as his lips do all the talking. It’s when he hears my moan that he begins to quicken his pace. Every touch precise, purposeful. He licks the shell of my ear before drawing the whole of my lobe into his mouth, biting, sucking as he cups my breast, lifting, molding, in worship. Nothing is off-limits as he blankets t
he whole of me with his touch. I’m on fire, wetness pools in my panties, my heartbeat pulsing between my thighs. I gasp as he tugs on my ponytail and my head lolls to the side as he makes quick work of covering the entirety of my neck with the same intensity of his lips. I’m moaning uncontrollably now as he encompasses me with his hands, still cupping my breasts, mouth roaming, moving to the front of my neck, tracing the divot in my throat with precise flicks of his tongue. I’m on the verge of an orgasm when he tweaks my nipple, my gasp caught by the side of his mouth as he licks playfully around my lips and pulls away, just as I lean in for more. And then he’s making a slow descent down my back, his hand gliding down the front of me. My leggings are no match for his deft fingers as he presses a thick digit exactly where I need him.
Gasping, I clutch what I can, but he’s still fast at work, covering me wholly in his kiss, momentum building as my chest heaves. Getting a grip on his shirt, I twist it in my hands, unable to see anything but the lust in his eyes as he pulls away, his stare piercing. I open fully for him, spreading my legs, granting him more access. He runs his finger up and down my center, massaging my clit, as my heart hammers out of control, I’m seconds away from begging for his kiss when his lips drift back up to my throat, I turn my head and we meet, open-mouthed as he thrusts his tongue in deep, kissing me to within an inch of my life.
And with one more flick of his finger, I come, and he dives while my sporadic breaths pump into his mouth. I’m thoroughly seduced, completely intoxicated as he keeps his pace, his hands working their way back up, his lips and tongue still roaming the whole of my face, chest, and neck. I’ve never in my life felt so worshiped, so intoxicated by a man’s touch. I’ve never, ever, been kissed like this. When his lips finally return to mine, I grip him to me, twisting in my seat and kiss him back with everything in me. I’m rewarded with the tangle of our tongues as he thrusts so deeply, I drown. Slowly, he pulls away, staring down at me with so much heat and longing, it steals what’s left of my breath.
“Just think about it.”
Slowly righting my sweater, he places one more open-mouthed kiss on my neck before walking out the door.
Gabby’s Smothered Pork Chops
Architect, New Mexico
Makes 6 servings
1 hour
1 Stick Butter
2 Cups Flour
2 Cans Cream of Mushroom Soup
1/2 Cup White Cooking Wine
1/2 Cup Water
1 Large Package Fresh Mushrooms
1-2 Large Onions
6 Pork Chops
Melt butter in skillet. Use one cup of flour to flour both sides of the pork chops. Lightly brown both sides of pork chops in butter. Mix soup, wine, water, and one cup of flour. Pour over pork chops. Wash mushrooms, drain, and cut stems off. Cut onion into quarters. Add mushrooms and onions to skillet.
Cook on low to medium heat until done.
Good served with Rice-a-Roni or over Minute Rice.
Clarissa
I’ve spent the last twenty-four hours in a daze. After an emergency call to Parker, I used the rest of my time doing things I never get a chance to do. I found myself relieved Brett was out of town. I’m not the type of woman to put her eggs in different baskets. Every time I start to feel guilty, I remember my conversation with Parker, not that it really helps.
“Hell yes! May the best man win!”
“I’m not like that. You know I hate that. I’m not my father.”
“Then pick one.”
“I can’t. Troy is…I don’t fully trust him, but Jesus, I’ve never felt anything like that. And Brett is a great guy. I mean that.”
“It’s called dating. Make both aware of the other, and there is no issue.”
“This is wrong.”
“It’s dating. You can choose to be a monogamous dater, but that puts you in a relationship. Are you ready to start a relationship with either?”
“I’m not juggling two men. That’s beyond my comfort zone.”
“Then make it clear to Troy that he can no longer kiss you and feel you up after you apply lip balm.”
“It was the best kiss of my life.”
“Yeah? Then, bye-bye Brett.”
“Stop it.”
“Brett said you’re not exclusive, right?”
“Something to that effect.”
“So, you’re not asking about his other girls.”
“Who says he’s seeing other women?”
“I do. Ask him. And if that’s the case, you have nothing to feel guilty about. You can make out with baby daddy all you want.”
“I don’t do this.”
“Times have changed my friend. This is the new norm. Eventually, marriage will be obsolete.”
“No way. I’m traditional.”
“Then stick to kissing.”
“I’m not thirteen.”
“Babe, you have a decision to make. Decide on one or see what happens with either.”
“This is bullshit,” I say, picking up the rest of Dante’s toys.
“Yeah, I feel really sorry for you.”
“I’m sorry. I’m being insensitive. I know you’re going through a hard time.”
“I’m fine. This isn’t about me. This is about you finding someone suitable for our boy and for once, making yourself priority too.”
“I can’t risk it with Troy.”
“Then you’ve made your decision.”
“Right.”
“Except you haven’t.”
“What?”
Parker sighs. “Look, when you find yourself unable to keep from moving forward with one, you have your answer. Keep an open mind and heart and see where it goes. Or run a train with them both.”
“I hate you.”
“Make me proud. Now I have to go. I have a nooner.”
“Really?”
“A meeting. Get your mind out the gutter.”
“Parker, wait, what did we decide again?”
“We decided Mommy is going to have a little fun.”
“I’m not sleeping with them both!”
“Konnichiwa!”
“Parker, wait!”
Troy
“I can’t believe we didn’t catched any fish.”
“That’s catch any fish. It’s getting too cold, bud. We’ll try again some other time.”
“Will you put the worms on the hook again?”
“Sure, but don’t you want to learn to do it yourself?”
Dante’s eyes bulge in my rearview. “I’m not prepared for that, Troy.”
I crack up as I park in my driveway and open the back door as he unbuckles from his booster.
“Okay, remember what we talked about?”
“Yep,” he squeaks as I lift him from the backseat. We’re halfway across the yard when a song I don’t recognize begins to drift out of the house. Eyes wide, Dante immediately starts wiggling out of my hold.
“It’s me & Mommy’s favorite song! Let me down!” Dante takes off like a shot as gentle drums, bass, and guitar filter through the air. “I’m coming, Mommy!” He declares, bounding up the steps.
Hot on his heels with our bags in both arms, I step inside the door behind him, seeing Clarissa standing in the middle of the living room. She looks over to me with a shy smile mouthing “hi,” just as Dante leaps into her arms. Dante grabs her face with his hands stealing her attention as they begin to sing.
“Cupid, draw back your bow, and let your arrow gooo, straight to my lover’s heart for meeee,” Dante belts offkey as a smile lights up Clarissa’s face and she sings along, dancing with him wrapped firmly around her as if they’ve been doing it for years. And it’s so obvious they have. The light in his mother’s eyes is unforgettable as she sings with him, swaying while he giggles with every exaggerated bounce of her hips.
And me? I’m so fucking gone, lost in the sight of them both.
It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, and my throat goes dry while I memorize every second of it. Th
ey’re completely in sync, as they lift hands in the air at the same time, imploring Cupid while singing their hearts out. My own heart expands unbearably in my chest when they rub noses as the song drifts to a close. Clarissa’s eyes catch mine over her son’s shoulder, and we just…stare. I have no idea what she sees, but I’m pretty sure if it’s anything like what I’m feeling, it’s heavy. She beams at me before she breaks the connection, gazing down at Dante.
“Did you have fun?”
“It was the best time I’ve ever had!”
“Really? That’s great. What did you two do?”
“I can’t tell you anything, sorry, man stuff.” Dante turns to me and winks both eyes.
I can’t help my chuckle. “That’s right, man stuff.”
Clarissa looks between us. “Man stuff, huh? Well, all right, go unload your pack and put all your dirty clothes in the hamper.
“Yes, ma’am.”
I’m thankful for the music playing in the background because the minute Dante disappears, I’m at a loss for words. All I can do is think about the way she kissed me back. It was more than a kiss, it was a declaration on my part, and I made damn sure she knew it.
I let impulse win yesterday, unable to handle another second without touching her, tasting her, showing her just how much I want her. And I can’t for one fucking second bring myself to regret it. Duffle still on my shoulder, I stuff my hands into my jeans. “So that’s your favorite song, huh?”
“Yeah,” she says, crossing her arms over her chest. Her hair is curled, and she’s in a sweater dress, nails freshly painted, and the house is immaculate.
“You look beautiful.”
“Yeah, thanks, I gave myself a little TLC.”
“It shows. Smells good in here.”
“I’ve been baking.”
“Yeah?”
“I think Theo has company. You might want to wait a bit before returning home.”
“Oh yeah?” I chuckle. “Good for him.”
The Underdogs: The Complete Series Page 42