“Seriously, babe. Only you,” I tell her, kissing her on the temple while we all continue to laugh and recount what just happened.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Carly
My hands haven’t stopped shaking since I woke up this morning. When I come to the kitchen from my bedroom and try pouring a cup of coffee, Jack immediately notices.
“What’s up, shakey shakerson?”
“What do you mean?” I say, trying to brush it off, filling up my Hello, Beautiful travel mug that James gave me among the other gifts for Christmas.
He points to my coffee cup that’s trembling in my fingers.
He sets his cup of orange juice on the table and walks over to where I stand leaning up against the counter.
“Let’s go.”
“What? Where?”
“Mom. You need to go beat something up,” he says, grinning that grown-up kid grin of his that makes me smile every time.
“Alright,” I agree, loving also that my boy knows me so well.
I grab a protein bar to eat while I get ready, change into a pair of printed capri-length leggings, a tank top, and my sports bra. I grab my sneakers and socks, throw them into my gym bag along with my fingerless boxing gloves. After filling our water bottles, we head out the door. I am a little worried that I will run into Vince at the gym. No one has seen anything out of him, but that doesn’t mean he’s not still lurking. I also hope James isn’t there working out. Not that I don’t want to see him. But part of why Jack is taking me to go punch things is because he knows I need to relax and calm down, my nerves getting the best of me for our date tonight.
Once again, I don’t know what to expect. Is it just dinner? Do I need to shave? Should I have waxed? Is he planning on something for after dinner? Should I pack a bag for overnight and have Jack make other plans? I don’t know if we are there yet in our relationship, and I certainly am not sure if Jack would be okay with his mom having a sleepover, or me telling him I am having one.
The questions going through my head are definitely plentiful.
“I’m driving,” Jack informs me, not that I had any question. Ever since he got his license, he never lets me drive.
“Of course you are,” I mumble playfully.
We arrive at the gym and walk in side by side. I can’t help but look around for any familiar vehicles as we walk.
Jack pulls me to his side by hooking me around the neck. He kisses the top of my head
I blow out a deep breath when we step into the gym, feeling the calm wash over me. We spend the next two hours boxing before I fade completely. My muscles feel like Jell-O. After too many jabs, hooks, and uppercuts, my body is spent. Tate and I spar for a little while, and because I do it not to become a boxer, he helps me with my kicks too. My entire body, head to toe, is covered with sweat, my chest heaving from the exertion, but I’m grateful. Grateful for a son who recognizes what I need to help calm me down, get rid of my nerves. Grateful for that same son to have realized that learning to box would free me. Free me of my insecurities. Free me of my constant fears of not being able to defend myself or him.
“Thank you, bud,” I tell him as we walk out of the gym doors toward his pickup.
“You’re welcome,” he says. “Feel better?”
“Yeah, I do.”
“I’m glad. Although… it has to be said. I have no idea why you were so nervous this morning. It’s James.”
“I know.” I nod my head.
“Okay, then, why? You’ve been out with him plenty of times. You’ve been together for months now. He’s a good guy, Mom. The best, if I’m being honest.”
“You think so?”
“Don’t you?”
I blush. Blush! In front of my son. He busts out laughing.
“I take that as a yes?”
I nod my head, rolling my lips together. “I do. I mean, I feel safe with him.”
“He makes you happy,” he says, and it’s not question. He’s telling me, even though I already know it.
“He does. But you know, you come fir—”
He interrupts me by stopping me in my tracks, turning me so I’m facing him next to the tailgate of his pickup. “Don’t. Don’t do that,” he says, his voice firm and unyielding.
“What?”
“You’ve put others first your entire life. If it wasn’t your crazy drunk of a mother, or my sperm donor, it’s been me. When do you come first?”
“Sorry to tell you, baby, but you’ll always come first. Just like Lily will always come first for James. That’s what being a parent is. I would lay my life down for you.”
“And you have,” he tells me, his eyes going dark. Knowing my son, he’s remembering the last night we spent under the same roof as Vince.
I swallow, fighting back the tears that threaten, my own memories struggling to the surface.
“Mom, give yourself a chance. You deserve it. More than anyone I know, you deserve to put yourself first for once.”
And I finally believe it. I’ll never stop making sure that Jack has everything he needs. I’ll never be able to stop focusing on him. But James has given me the courage to step back and take something that I want. And I want him.
I stand in my bedroom. It looks like a tornado has gone through my closet. Trying to decide how to dress for tonight is worse than when I was getting ready for Emily’s wedding, and I stressed way too much over that.
James tells me I’m beautiful every chance he gets. Hell, he even changed my ring tone on my phone to Jason Mraz’s “Hello, You Beautiful Thing,” which he seemed pretty proud of. I know I could show up in a gunnysack, and he wouldn’t care.
But tonight is different. I want him to see that he has all of me. And even if I don’t know if I’m going to give him all of me tonight, I still take extra time in the shower. I use every tool I have to my advantage. I loofah, shave, pluck, and scrub. I apply light makeup and put just a few loose curls in my hair. I decide on something comfortable to wear. I realize Jack is sixteen and isn’t oblivious, but I also want to be a good example. Tonight isn’t about a booty call.
Even knowing that, I still throw an extra pair of panties, my toothbrush, and a long-sleeve tunic into my oversized handbag. At least I’ll be prepared if I need them.
I double-check my appearance in the mirror and shake out my still quivering hands. James is the first man since Vince. My first everything since Vince. He picked up my pieces and put me back together again. Just the simple thought of him makes my heart beat faster, my head to spin, but most of all, he makes my soul feel alive again.
Tonight, I will let him know exactly how broken I was before he pieced me back together. And after I’ve given him that one last piece, maybe, just maybe, I’ll finally feel whole again.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
James
I’m too anxious to wait in the house for her, so I stand by the door waiting, excited to have her alone. Excited to cook for her, provide her a night that allows her to relax. To offer her a glimpse of what I can and will give her.
A few days ago Barrett, Grady, and I went to my old house and moved out more of the furniture. Not all of it, since the realtor wants me keep some stuff there. But at least now I have bedroom furniture and a few things I was tired of living without.
“No,” I say when I step closer.
She already got out of the car and is now standing next to it. She cocks her head to the side. “Sorry?”
“No way. Nope. Tell me this isn’t your car, Carly.”
She looks from me to the car and back to me again. Every time I’ve seen her, it’s either been at the gym, where Jack drove them in his old pickup he was so proud of or I was picking her up, and her car was in the garage.
My mind is kind of blown that I’ve never seen it before now. She’s lucky I haven’t. Knowing she drove that piece of tin through the winter quite frankly pisses me off.
“What do you mean?”
“Did you steal it from Pebbles and Bam Bam?”
; She throws her head back and laughs hard.
“Oh geesh. You’re such a dork. It’s not that bad!”
“It looks like it came from a Cracker Jack box!”
“Ha! Shut it! It does not!”
“Tell me, baby, what do you do in the snow? Do you feed the mice extra so they spin the wheels extra hard?”
“Hey!” She slaps her hand playfully against my shoulder, but before she can take a step back, I grab hold of her wrist and tug her closer to me.
“Hey now, no need for violence,” I tease her. I’m so glad we’re at this place now where we can be playful and teasing with each other, and it doesn’t immediately take her back to that place. To him.
“Oh, whatever. You’re like rock-hard,” she tells me then immediately blushes and rolls her lips together, something I notice she does whenever she’s embarrassed or nervous.
“Damn straight.”
She giggles and raises up on her toes to kiss me lightly. She’s trying to distract me from the conversation about her car. I know this. That doesn’t mean I won’t let her get by with it for a few minutes. I’m not crazy. A few minutes of her mouth fused to mine? I’ll take that any day of the week, whether she’s using it to sidetrack me or not. It’s the best kind of distraction.
I wrap my arms low around her back and tug her closer yet. She sighs into my mouth then opens up for me, tilting her head back to accommodate the height difference. She wraps her arms around my neck, her left hand immediately going to the short hairs at the nape of my neck. Her nails lightly trace patterns while our tongues fight for dominance.
I turn us around so she’s leaning against her Tinker Toy of a car, pressing her harder against it with my body. I have my right hand holding me up, pushing against the tiny frame, and my left hand against the small of her back, making her arch boldly into me. I can’t deny that her distraction method is working incredibly well. But I won’t be deterred. I slow the kiss down and pull my head back just slightly so we are still just a breath away. Her eyes are glazed over, and her chest is heaving.
“Wha…?”
“Baby, nice try. I’m all for your diversion technique. In fact, I plan to get back to it real soon. But you gotta know I’m not letting this go.”
“What is so wrong with my car?”
“You really want me to answer that?”
“I’ve had it for two years, James. Two!” She holds up two fingers in front of my face as if I’m not sure how many that is. “It’s been fine!”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
I lean in as close as possible to her, both hands bracing me against the car, caging her in as I graze her cheek with mine and kiss her neck lightly.
She whimpers, and it sends a direct signal south.
“You wanna know the difference between then… and now?”
“Hmm…” she mumbles, caught up in my tangle.
“You weren’t mine then,” I tell her, my voice strong and firm.
“I’m yours?” she whispers.
I cock my head sideways and narrow my eyes at her.
“Did you question that to be true?” I ask. “Have I not made myself clear?”
“Umm,” she starts, but I cut her off by running my nose down the side of her neck, pausing at that special little nook to inhale her honey-sweet scent.
“Just so there’s no confusion, Carly. Just in case you didn’t know… I’m absolutely crazy about you. You’re mine. Mind. Body. Soul. And especially your heart. Just like my heart’s yours. And I’m gonna go ahead and repeat this because it deserves to be repeated. You’re mine. Do you understand, sweetheart? This isn’t up for debate. This isn’t something that will change. This is it. You with me?”
“Yeah, I’m with you,” she says breathlessly.
“I meant what I said. This is it for me. You’re it for me. One day soon I’ll ask for real, but you need to know… us? It’s real, and it’s forever.”
Her eyes widen at my promises before she grabs my shirt and jerks me forward, sealing our mouths together with such force I’m afraid I hurt her. Her answering moans tell me otherwise. I skim my hands down her body, loving the feel of her silky skin under my calloused palms. Her body is the perfect combination of strength and softness. Hours spent in the gym boxing and in the yoga studio have molded her frame into the perfect combination of soft curves and a powerful body that has helped her overcome so much.
We’re standing in the private parking area behind Balance, but it’s still in a public area, so to be as turned on as I am at this moment is probably not appropriate, but I don’t really give a damn. The feel of her body under me, something I’ve been aching to feel since the moment I met her, has every nerve firing.
I reluctantly pull away, but only slightly. I’m not willing to part with the feel of her just yet.
“Baby, as amazing as this is, I’m not willing to give anyone a show here. And I’m a little worried we’re gonna tip over the Tinker Toy if I press you against it any harder,” I say with a grin.
She busts out laughing, a sound I’ll never tire of. Her eyes are shining brightly, a combination of happiness and lust, I’m learning.
“You really are such a dork,” she says, still laughing.
“I own it though.”
“You really do.”
“Carly, as much as I appreciate your love for the environment and buying a car that runs by the power of your feet…” She snorts, which causes me to grin again. “…you know it’s not safe. Not to mention it’s crap in the snow. If you got in an accident, you’d be crushed. My heart can’t take it.”
“That’s what we have Jack’s pickup for.”
I raise my eyebrows at her ridiculous reasoning.
She rolls her eyes in return. “You’re not going to drop it, are you?”
“Nope.”
“James, my car is fine.”
“You might be surprised to learn I disagree.”
“Shocker.”
“It’s nice to know I still keep you on your toes.”
She looks to the sky.
“Even He’s not gonna get you out of this one, beautiful.”
“Well, what do you suggest? You want me to drive a tank?”
I grin at her because, if that’s what it will take to keep her safe, I’m okay with it.
Her jaw drops. “You can’t be serious!”
I shrug my shoulders. “I don’t know… seems like that would be the best vehicle to keep you safe.”
“Right. Because that wouldn’t look ridiculous. I don’t know if it’s lost on you, but I’m not as big as you,” she says.
I waggle my eyebrows at her and reach over, pulling her to me by her waist. “Oh, trust me, I’ve noticed.”
She keeps talking, ignoring me completely. “I can’t handle a big vehicle. And as much as it pains me to admit, I’m not entirely a great driver.” She stretches her mouth out in an eeek face, causing me to laugh.
“All the more reason for us to go car shopping tomorrow.”
“Us?”
“What did I tell you? You’re with me, yeah?”
“What time tomorrow?”
“Good girl.”
She shivers, and I have a feeling it’s not from the temperature outside, but I don’t say anything.
“Let’s get you inside. I promised my girl a special meal, and I plan to wow her.”
“Oh! Lucky girl.”
“Nah, that would be me. I’m the one who’s lucky.”
She sighs contentedly, which has my heart pounding with promise. I can only pray I am always able to give her that. Comfort. Security. Love.
As soon as we walk into my apartment, Carly doesn’t hesitate in removing her jacket and hanging it on the hook by the wall. She sets her large handbag on the floor below it, removes her shoes, and makes her way inside. I love that she feels comfortable enough in my space to make herself at home, without me having to prompt her to do so. Many times I’ve been to her house, and I’ve always f
elt at home. I’m beginning to think it’s just her that makes me comfortable, rather than the location. Because wherever she is, that’s where I feel most at ease. And when the four of us are together, when our families blend, it doesn’t feel forced. It feels natural, relaxed, right.
“Is there anything I can help with?”
“It’s almost ready. Wine? Margarita, perhaps?” I tease.
“Ha, ha, jokester. Just iced tea, if you have it.”
“Of course,” I say and grab the pitcher of tea from the fridge before pouring her some into a mason jar and handing it over.
“You’re so Southern at heart.” She giggles.
“It’s endearing, right?”
“Oh yeah, babe. Totally.” She smiles and takes a sip. “It smells delicious in here. What are we having?”
“Well, we’ve cooked together plenty, but it always seems like I’m trying recipes out on you for the restaurant. So tonight, no taste testing. I made your favorite.”
“You mean to say you’re not having my favorite on your menu?” she fake-pouts.
I laugh. “Actually, no.”
She gasps, but I continue.
“Want to know why?” She nods her head, so I go on. “Because this meal isn’t to be shared with the masses. This is your favorite, so you’re the only one I will be making it for.”
“Well, when you put it like that…” She grins, happy with my reasoning.
“You ready to be wowed by my beef and broccoli?”
“Oh yeah.”
I place the platters on the table I already set, complete with a lit candle in the center because I’m rocking the cheese factor.
“You wanna tell me what ingredients you used?” she asks.
I scrub a hand down my face, trying not to smile, but failing. “You’re such a brat.”
“You so want to tell me, don’t you?”
“No,” I lie as I place a generous helping of Asian noodles on her plate and spoon beef and broccoli over top then serve myself.
“Come on, tell… me-e-e,” she teases.
I shake my head and watch as she mixes everything together and takes a bite. Her eyes close, and I almost groan as I watch her eat the food I made just for her.
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