Wait for It

by Mariana Zapata

  It was my turn for my mouth to form an O. Just as quickly as Ginny had, I closed my mouth too. I could definitely picture Dallas being this mountain of judgmental black and white as a kid. He was still like that.

  The difference was, I liked it.

  Ginny kept going. “Now, Jackson on the other hand, what a waste of a human being.”

  * * *

  I am not going to look at Dallas’s butt.

  I am not going to look at Dallas’s butt.

  Nope. Not doing it.

  Not doing it.

  As if tempting me, Dallas walked by in front of me, all of his attention on the boy beside him during practice. Deep in the outfield was Josh, running drills with Trip and some of the other boys. But as terrible of a person as it made me, it was Dallas I was busy looking at.

  Dallas and the skintight, long-sleeve thermal shirt he had on and jeans I was not going to be focusing on. I was too busy not thinking about Dallas to notice when someone took the seat right next to me. It was the divorced dad.

  “Hey, Diana,” he greeted me, his hair combed neatly, hands on his lap.

  I smiled at him. “Hi.”

  The man, who had to be in his late thirties or early forties, gestured toward my hand, his gaze was wide. “How’s your hand doing?”

  “Much better,” I told him, mostly honestly. I was better. Way better. But that didn’t mean it didn’t ache like hell after a few hours of working. I’d been putting vitamin E oil on it every night before bed, but the skin still hadn’t completely healed.

  He hissed, craning his neck to eye my hand closer. “Sheesh.”

  I pressed my lips together and smiled. “It’ll get even better.”

  The man tipped his head to the side, still eyeing me. When he didn’t immediately say anything, I thought he’d let it go. Most of practice had gone by, and the coaches had the boys in a huddle, talking to them before he finally spoke up again.

  “I think I told you already I’m divorced.” He’d only told me about ten times since we’d met. “I’m not dating anyone seriously.”

  But he was dating someone, and trying to weasel in some flirting. Great.

  “If you ever need any help, you could give me a call. I’d be more than willing to help out with anything you might need,” he said softly, obviously fully aware of how nosey the rest of the parents were and how everyone eavesdropped on everyone else.

  I felt uncomfortable. Even though I didn’t want to, I tore my eyes away from the boys on the field and turned to look at this guy, knowing exactly what I needed to do even though I really didn’t want to do it. “That’s really nice of you to offer, but my dad helps me out a ton, and between the boys and me, we’re usually pretty good with most stuff, but I appreciate the offer.”

  This poor, attractive man by most women’s standards wasn’t stopping. “It doesn’t have to be help. Our boys are friends.” I wouldn’t call Josh his son’s friend, at all, but I’d keep my mouth closed. “We could do something with them, if you’re interested.” He blinked. “Or by ourselves.”

  Shit.

  I barely opened my mouth to tell him something along the lines that I was flattered he was offering but that I was really busy and not interested in dating anyone when a shadow came over me. A big hand reached across my face to take the bag I had sitting between the dad and I. Before I even looked, I knew there was no way it was Josh. He was tall but not that tall, and the hand that I’d briefly seen was bigger than mine by a lot. But I guess… well, I wasn’t sure what I guessed, but I sure as hell didn’t really expect to find Dallas at my side, looking down at me, with Josh beside him glaring at the dad.

  “Hey, guys,” I greeted them quickly, frowning at the faces they were both making. I understood Josh’s, he always gave that specific dad dirty looks every time he sat by me, but Dallas? What was up his butt?

  Those warm hazel eyes stayed locked on my face. He didn’t once look at the man beside me. “You ready?”

  To leave? “Yeah.” I glanced at Josh and tipped my chin up.

  He was too busy glaring at the dad to notice me.

  As I got to my feet, I started to reach for my purse in Dallas’s hands but he pulled it in closer to his body, eyeing me the entire time. “Let’s go.”

  No part of me was putting the pieces together. Not one single bit. All I did was nod before turning around to face the dad still sitting on the bench, watching and listening. I smiled at him. “I’ll see you later. Thank you for the offer.”

  The dad’s gaze bounced from me to Dallas and back again before he nodded, slowly. “Yeah, sure,” he said, going back to Dallas who suddenly seemed to be standing inches away from me. I could feel his body heat.

  I didn’t even freeze a little when what was obviously his hand landed on my shoulder, gently turning me in the direction where everyone was headed. I only partially eyed his hand as I dropped my own for a low-five from Josh, who gave it to me easily.

  “Good practice, J-Money?” I asked, completely conscious of the weight on me and of the man beside me.

  The eleven-year-old smacked my hand again with a smirk. “Good practice. Did you have fun talking to your friend?”

  Did I give my eleven-year-old the stink eye? Damn right I did.

  The problem was, I’d learned the stink eye from the best: him.

  I stuck my tongue out at him and he stuck his right back.

  “That’s why I have to follow you two home,” came the voice that seemed right by my ear.

  I stared at Josh a second longer before I winked at him, and he winked at me right back.

  “Do you want to have dinner with us, Mr. Dallas?” Josh asked as he continued to watch me.

  Since when did Josh invite people over for dinner? That was Louie’s job.

  “J, I’m sure he has better things to do than see your face longer than he needs to,” I said jokingly, still watching that face I knew too well. It felt like he was up to something, but what? “Plus, I’m sure he wants to spend some time with his grandma.”

  “There’s nothing better I could be doing,” came the reply right by my shoulder a moment before the hand on the opposite side gave me a squeeze before dropping. “And Nana’s probably asleep by now.”

  With my heart up in my throat and this sneaky shit with Josh going on, I managed to keep my attention forward.

  “All right, I just have to go pick up Louie first,” I said, mostly to my shoulder.

  There wasn’t a single doubt in my mind that what had to be a hand touched the small of my back. “I’m good at waiting,” he replied.

  I nodded, and as I raised my gaze to start making our way toward the parking lot, I noticed it. A good chunk of the moms, waiting around for the kids or talking, were watching us. Why did that surprise me? And why didn’t it bother me?

  “We should start carpooling.”

  That comment had my head swinging to the side and up. Dallas was looking down at me, his expression clear. The hand on my lower back made a circle even through the material of my jacket, and his thick, dark eyebrows rose a millimeter, like he was trying to challenge me.

  But why would he do that?

  I didn’t narrow my eyes, but I wanted to. “That would save gas…” I cleared my throat. “Maybe not on the days Louie doesn’t come though.”

  And this man, this man of my dreams who I didn’t know I even wanted, stitched back up a whole inch of that part of my heart that hadn’t been the same since my brother. “I don’t mind picking up Lou.” There was a pause and he blinked those beautiful eyes. His voice was hesitant. “Unless you don’t want me to?”

  Didn’t want him to? What a dumbass.

  I smiled at him, trying to tell him with my eyes that I wanted him to love me back. To kiss me again. To tell me what he wanted from me. “What did I tell you about stupid questions, Mr. Clean?”

  * * *

  I had just finished setting the last clean dish on the rack when my phone rang from wherever I’d left it.

&
nbsp; “Aunt Di! It’s abuelita!” Josh shouted from the living room a moment before the slapping of his feet on the floor warned me he was coming.

  Sure enough, he had my phone outstretched in his hand; his practice uniform still on. Before I’d gone into the kitchen to wash dishes, he, Lou, and Dallas had all been sitting in front of the television, taking turns playing video games. It was too much. So I’d gotten up and decided to wash dishes while I collected my thoughts.

  “Thanks, J,” I told him, taking the phone from his hand. “Hey, you and Lou need to go ahead and get ready for bed, all right? It’s past ten.”

  The entire time I’d been talking, his lip started to snarl a little but he nodded, reluctant and shit. “You want me to tell Mr. Dallas to go?”

  No, I didn’t want him to kick out the neighbor, but I couldn’t exactly say that. “Don’t worry about it. You and Louie get ready for bed. Dallas can leave when he’s ready.”

  Josh nodded and turned to walk out of the kitchen as I brought the phone to my face.

  “¿Bueno?”

  There was silence before my mom’s voice came over the line, slow and crawling. “Who is at your house?” she asked in Spanish.

  I hated rolling my eyes seconds into our conversation, but I couldn’t help it. “My neighbor.”

  “You have a man at your house?”

  She was hissing. Fantastic. “Yes, Mamá.”

  “It’s ten o’clock at night!”

  “I know,” I told her, drawing the letters out in frustration. “Did you need something?”

  “Is he alone with the boys right now?” She was still speaking in quick, angry Spanish.

  Fuck. “Ma, did you need something?”

  “¿Qué piensas? Qué estás haciendo?”

  “I know what I’m doing, Mom,” I told her as calmly as possible even though the reality was, I never had any idea what I was doing. Ever. “What do you need?”

  “Diana,” she grumbled. “Is he going to spend the night?”

  “Oh my God,” I muttered, rolling my eyes. “Mom, tell me why you’re calling. I still need to put the boys to sleep and I have to go to sleep.”

  “Que Dios me bendiga. ¿Donde te fallé?”

  I rolled my eyes and shook my head in exasperation. She had just asked where she had failed me. God help me.

  “It’s the man with the tattoos?”

  I sighed and pinched the bridge of my nose, already deciding I needed to find my Pop-Tarts and stick two of them in my mouth at once. “Si. What do you need?”

  The most dramatic noise ever made in the history of bodily sounds came through the phone and my eyes tried to go find my brain again.

  “Mom, I like him and you’re going to have to live with that. So tell me why you called, please.”

  She started mumbling words in Spanish that I was pretty sure made up a prayer I hadn’t heard in decades, since my First Communion. There was something about God helping her and something after that about paying for her sins. Planting one hand on the kitchen counter, with the other one holding the phone to my face, I dropped my head back and fake sobbed.

  “Mom.”

  She wasn’t listening to me. Like always.

  I only fake sobbed more.

  Then I heard the soft laugh behind me. It was Dallas with his hip to the counter, those muscular arms crossed over his chest. He looked way too amused.

  Had he heard me say I liked him?

  “Mom, Mom, just call me later, okay? You’re not paying attention anymore. I love you, tell God I said hi.” I waited a second, and when she still hadn’t acknowledged me, I sighed and hit the red button on my screen.

  “Mom troubles?” Dallas asked.

  “Like always.”

  “The boys went to get ready for bed just now,” he said, taking a step forward.

  “Okay.” Why did I feel shy all of a sudden? “Are you leaving?”

  “Not yet.” He took another step. “I’ve missed seeing you.”

  He missed me?

  I gulped. “I live across the street.”

  “I know, Di,” he replied with a smirk on his pink mouth. “I’ve been trying to give you some space to think about things.”

  “Think about what?” I gulped again, watching him slowly creep closer to me.

  “What happened in my truck.”

  Luckily, I knew that the wrong thing to ask was “What happened in the truck?” Instead, I had this deer-caught-in-the-headlights look on my face and muttered, “Oh. That.”

  His eyebrow went up. “That?”

  “Yeah. That.” Stupid, stupid, stupid, Diana.

  Dallas took two more striding steps forward until he stopped directly in front of me, so close the upper part of his stomach brushed against my breasts. One of those big hands came up to my face and he pet my cheek again with the backs of his fingers, his voice low and steady. “I’m gonna kiss you again.”

  I sucked in a breath as he dipped his head closer to mine. There were a million things I should tell him. Maybe even two million things. But instead of telling him I wasn’t sure where his mind was at or what he wanted from me or telling him that I thought he’d hung the Milky Way, all I did was nod.

  I didn’t even ask him why he liked me or since when. When?

  What I did do was stand there as his hands curled over my hips and his breath hit my skin.

  His lips brushed across my forehead from one temple to the next and back again. I swallowed hard.

  The soft skin of Dallas’s mouth went from my temple down along my ear and halfway across my jaw. Gentle. Barely a touch. I held my breath.

  When he went up the path he’d come down, back across my forehead and down the same route along my ear on the other side, I closed my eyes and still didn’t breathe.

  The hands on my hips tightened, and either Dallas took a step closer or he pulled me to him because our lower bodies were suddenly pressed against each other. And then, and then, his lips hovered over mine for all of a heartbeat before they covered my own. From one instant to the next, his mouth slanted over mine and the gentleness was nowhere to be found because it had gotten replaced by something I could only call hunger. Starving, I-can’t-get-enough-now-and-it-feels-like-I-might-never-get-enough hunger.

  Dallas’s tongue dueled mine, and I wasn’t about to let him win. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d taken a breath, but I didn’t give a shit.

  It was me who pressed my hips against his, a rock, a roll. But it was Dallas with the hard thing between us, hot and like a pipe against me, right above my belly button.

  “I love the way you kiss,” he whispered when he drew his mouth away from mine just an inch.

  I said it. I told him. “I like everything about you.” Because it was the truth.

  This choking, groaned noise bubbled in Dallas’s mouth and I could feel the heat of his stare on my face, but I could only talk myself into looking at his mouth. His slightly parted, swollen lips inches away. And it was only because I was looking at his mouth that I knew it was being redirected to my cheeks, to my jaw, to two spots on my neck, and then I couldn’t see at all as his hips rocked into my stomach again, his cock harder and so warm through my clothes. Dallas pressed that soft mouth to my collarbone as his hands slid up from my hips to my waist to just directly below my breasts, so that the undersides rested on the curve of his hand between his thumb and index finger.

  “I knew it would be like this,” he murmured into my collarbone, nipping at it with those flat, white teeth.

  I was panting. I couldn’t talk.

  One of his thumbs took a detour from my ribs and went up, swiping over my nipple, which I wasn’t surprised at all was hard. Dallas was breathing roughly as his thumb did it again. His mouth kissed the patch of skin my button-down shirt couldn’t cover and he whispered, directly into my damn heart, “I’ve thought about doing this with you in here a hundred times—a thousand times—”

  “Buttercup! Are you gonna tuck me in?” came a shout that had me
jerking back to reality.

  But it didn’t have Dallas going anywhere. It didn’t have his hands moving from where they’d taken residence. And that thick shaft across my stomach didn’t go anywhere either.

  It was only Dallas’s head that rose until his face hovered just above mine, that beautiful pink mouth brushing my own. He focused those green-brown-gold eyes in on me and kissed my lips, just a peck, one, two, three, four, five times. Then he touched his mouth to one of my cheeks and then the other, pausing right in front of me as his gaze bounced from one of my eyes to the second and back.

  “Buttercup!” Louie yelled again.

  His hands moved over to my arms and down to my wrists before cupping each of my hands in his palms. He brought them up between us and against his hard, flat belly. “I’ll let you put the boys to bed, but we’ll talk tomorrow. I’m not gonna keep putting this off, Diana.”

  And I answered with the only word my stupid, stunned brain could come up with. “Okay.”

  “Buttercup!”

  “Poo face! Give me a second!” I hollered, shaking my head as I held Dallas’s gaze.

  “Bring Mr. Dallas!” the little boy shouted back.

  This beautiful, perfect man who had just finished kissing me smiled softly at Louie’s request. “You mind?” he had the nerve to ask.

  “You know I don’t.” I waved him toward me. “Come on.”

  Dallas nodded and took a step forward as I turned my back on him. I managed to take maybe a couple of steps before two arms wrapped around my shoulders from behind in a hug that lasted all of a squeeze and what I could only assume was a kiss to the back of my head. I stood there and took it.

  A giant part of me wished he would do it again and again.

  It wasn’t until he dropped his hold on me way too soon, that I reached back without looking at him and took his hand. I laced my fingers through his and felt his pads curl over the fine bones below the outside of my wrist. We walked the fifteen feet to Louie’s room holding hands, not saying a word. Sure enough, his blond head was the only thing peeking out from over the top of his Iron Man covers and he was grinning that grin that lit my entire world up.