Chasing Him

by Kennedy Fox

  I smile. “Dang, Gigi. That’s deep. That one moment changed the outcome of everything.”

  My mind wanders, and I feel my phone vibrate in my pocket, but I ignore it and try to spend as much time as I can with Gigi before her friends arrive to play cards. After she’s baked several trays of cookies, and the house smells like sugar and oatmeal, I realize how long we’ve sat around and talked about ranching, Texas history, and the bachelor auction this fall that I should come back for.

  “A what?” I ask again to make sure I understood her correctly. We never have the fun stuff where I live.

  Gigi is tickled to death. “You mean to tell me Rose hasn’t invited you yet? Each year, she always holds a big fundraiser for the county food bank, rounds up all the boys, ranch hands, and any other bachelors she can rope in, and forces them to go on dates with all the grandmas. If we’re willing to pay.”

  “No way. Y’all are crazy down here.” I snatch a cookie off the tray, and it’s so delicious, it basically melts in my mouth.

  “Apparently, the building where it’s held is going through renovations at the moment, so she’s moved it to the middle of October. If you’re free, you should come, but you should start saving now. Some of those young ladies are savages when it comes to those Bishop boys,” Gigi explains.

  “But aren’t half of them taken?” I think about Alex and Evan, their relationships, and how they both have babies.

  “Rose is relentless. She makes them participate regardless and tells their women they better bid big. Gigi snickers. I laugh, too, because I can imagine River and Emily fighting women off their men. Mama Rose is something else, and I understand why she and Gigi are such good friends.

  Once I hear the car doors slam outside, I know her friends have arrived, so I give Gigi a big hug goodbye.

  “Don’t be a stranger, you hear?” she tells me and pats me on the shoulder.

  “I won’t. Promise.”

  Being the way she is, she hands me a ziplock bag full of cookies. I’ve learned to never say no to Gigi and willingly take them. On the way to the door, I grab the giant box Mom sent over as Gigi turns the doorknob. If I wouldn’t have been carrying the huge box, I’m sure I would’ve gotten squeezed by every woman I passed with a smile.

  I place the heavy box in the back seat of the car then wave to Gigi as she chats with her friends. Smiling, I get into the car, crank it, and head down the rock road. By the time I make it to John’s, his truck is missing, and I’m sure Maize’s with him wherever he ran off to. I park off to the side, lift the box, and carry it into the house, barely making it to my bed. I search around the house for the two of them, but my suspicions were correct—they’re not here. Probably visiting with Emily and Evan or at Mama’s.

  Taking my time, I unpack everything Mom sent. She even went the extra mile and sent sticky-tack, so I could easily hang my posters of the hottest quarterback in the entire league—Aaron Rodgers. I put the one of him with a full beard next to my bed just to ensure sweet dreams.

  In the bottom of the box, I see Mom included a onesie for Maize that reads Go Pack Go, and I can’t wait to see John’s face when she’s proudly sporting it. He actually might shit himself. He’s probably a Cowboys fan like everyone else around here, but that doesn’t mean I can’t influence Maize to the better team. Though the thought of him seeing her wear it has me laughing to myself.

  Once the posters are hung, the clothes are put away, and my Packers throw blanket is spread across my bed, I let out a happy sigh. It almost feels like home now. Wanting to call my mom to give her a big thank you and tell her how much I love her, I pull my phone from my pocket and try to find the place in my room where I have service. Seeing that she was the one who called while I was at Gigi’s, I decided to check my voicemail first. The prompt tells me I have three messages, so I press one to check them.

  The first one is from Sarah and Graham, and he’s telling me about the new dinosaurs he got. I quickly save it, because I do that with every message my family leaves, and then move to the next one.

  The next message is a man’s voice, and it slightly catches me off guard.

  “Ms. Mila Carmichael, this is Shawn Demry, the Morgan County School District Superintendent. I’ve reviewed your application for the first-grade position available at Morgan County Primary School and saw you were highly recommended based on the student teaching you completed last semester. It’s noted in your file that a position was discussed, and I wanted to know if you’re still interested. If so, please call to schedule an interview as soon as possible. I can be reached at 706-720-9891 during normal business hours. Thanks.”

  My body freezes. I replay the message, and it seems like it was left sometime last week. I don’t always get the greatest cell reception in the house, and I’m not the best at remembering to check my voicemail. It seems as if my time here could come to an end much sooner, and the thought crushes me. I go to the next message, and it’s Mom asking if I received the box and to tell me that a Mr. Shawn Demry called the house to set up an interview, and she gave him my cell phone number. She sounded so excited, too, which leaves me with mixed feelings.

  I sit on the edge of my bed and stare at my phone. I really thought I’d have more time to decide what I wanted to do. Even though it’s only been a couple of months since I’ve been here, it doesn’t feel long enough. I know I wouldn’t have to go back to Georgia for a few more months, but that leaves me open to growing more attached to Maize and the entire family. It’s been my dream to become a teacher, so why am I not more excited to finally hear from a school?

  Moments pass as I stay lost in my thoughts, and I’m startled by a deep voice that makes me jump.

  “Hey,” John says, standing in the doorway holding Maize. “Everything okay?”

  Instantly, I smile. “Yes, it’s great. I was looking for you two when I got back.” I stand and go to Maize. “There’s my sweet girl.” I kiss her pinchable cheeks before taking her from John’s arms.

  He places his hands on his hips, and his mouth falls open as he scans my newly decorated room.

  “What?” I ask, pretending not to have a clue.

  “Aaron Rodgers? The Green Bay Packers? Are you kiddin’ me? Don’t you know we fly the blue and white in this household?”

  “Not in this area of the house, we don’t,” I tell him, holding Maize, as he walks around the room and looks at all my Packer gear.

  “You’re as bad as River. Packer nation is her territory. Disgusting.” He pretends to shiver. “I think I need a shower after being around this trash. I might sleep in my Cowboy’s jersey tonight just to wash away the green and gold stank.”

  I scoff. “So you’re a shi-crap talker? Oh man. You better be glad football season isn’t for a few more months. I’m a die-hard football fan and will out-game anyone.”

  “There’s always preseason, baby. America’s team all the way!” John shouts, leaving the room. I hurry and grab the onesie that Mom sent and change Maize into it. She’s such a good sport about it, which makes this even better. We walk into the living room, and I don’t say a peep about it, waiting to see how long it’ll take him to realize.

  I place Maize in her Jumperoo, pull it around, and sit next to him on the couch as he flips through the channels.

  He glances over at me, and when our eyes meet, it’s as if all the air leaves the room, and I’m no longer able to breathe. I watch as he swallows hard, and I open my mouth to say something, but I’m not sure what I was going to say. There’s too much flowing between us, too many unspoken words, and I feel my cheeks heat. His eyes dart over to Maize and widen.

  “What in the world do you have on my daughter?” He stands up to go to her, and I quickly jump up and block him.

  “Mila Carmichael! You should move outta my way!” He tries to give me his best stern voice.

  “Nope,” I tell him with a cocky smirk.

  “This is your last chance,” he warns with a grin.

  I shake my head, and that’s
when his hands slither their way onto my sides, and he begins tickling me. I scream out in laughter and try to push him away, but he’s too strong. Losing my balance, I grab on to his shirt, and soon we’re both falling onto the couch laughing. Our faces are mere inches apart, and I feel the warmth of his breath brush against my cheek. We both still, staring into one another’s eyes, before he pushes himself up. Thankfully, he changes the subject back to the Packers onesie Maize’s wearing. She’s jumping and kicking her feet, smiling.

  “See, she loves it.” I stand, brushing the loose hairs from my face.

  “She doesn’t know she bleeds blue and white yet. Not fair trying to push your cheese head tactics on an infant. You should be ashamed of yourself.” He laughs, lightening the mood. “You’re from Georgia. Why Green Bay?”

  Crossing my arms over my chest, I shoot him a sexy smirk. “Because Aaron Rodgers is hot and obviously good with his hands.”

  “You’re kiddin’, right?” He gives me a disapproving look, and his pouty lips have me remembering the way I kissed him the other night. Actually, I haven’t stopped thinking about it, but neither of us has brought it up either.

  I shake my head and plop back on the couch as he continues to stand.

  “You’re telling me you’re a super fan because of scrawny Rodgers?” John looks at me like I’ve lost my mind.

  “Yep, I’d have his babies. All his babies,” I say nonchalantly.

  This causes him to laugh at me. “You want Green Bay babies from a goofy looking dude?”

  “A girl can dream.” When I close my eyes, I’m not thinking about football or Aaron Rodgers. No, I’m thinking about John and Maize, which causes my heart to lurch forward.

  “Hate to interrupt you while you’re in fantasyland, but Mama packed up some leftovers for our dinner tonight. I’ll warm them up after I take a shower if that’s okay?”

  I nod, and he walks to the bathroom. With a smile, I glance over at Maize who’s as happy as can be wearing her Packers onesie. She’s blinking up at me with the pacifier in her mouth that she must’ve grabbed from the tray, and I pick her up and hold her against my chest. Each time she rests her head against my shoulder, I have the urge to hold her just a little tighter. I try to take in each precious moment we share together.

  Time passes, and soon John is walking into the living room wearing a T-shirt and some low-hanging sweats. I feel him watching me, and a burning sensation travels through my body. He moves across the room and sits next to me on the couch. “She really likes you.”

  When our eyes meet, it’s as if nothing else matters but the three of us. He opens his arms, and I gently pass Maize to him. John holds her on his lap and begins speaking. “Bell, fell, sail, mail, trail.”

  I start giggling. “What in the world are you doing?”

  “Rail. Tail. Yell. Shell.” He glances over at me. “River gave me a baby book. It said to do rhyme time to help with reception skills. There was something about saying them in different tones to watch the baby’s reaction too.”

  “Where’s this book? I’d like to read it,” I offer. I actually think I came across it one day when I was cleaning but never thought anything of it.

  He chuckles. “It’s beside my bed. That thing was my baby bible before you showed up. Now I’ve got the baby whisperer.”

  I nod with a smug grin. “Told you so.”

  “She’s growing up so fast,” he says, bringing his attention back to Maize as he lightly bounces her on his lap. She’s smiling, loving every minute with her dad.

  “Pretty soon, she’ll be dating and driving,” I add.

  “Nope. Not happening. She’s not allowed to date until she’s fifty,” he tells me matter-of-factly.

  “You’re gonna be one of those scary dads, aren’t you?”

  With a popped eyebrow, his eyes meet mine. “What do you think?”

  Smiling, I stand and walk to the kitchen and pull the leftovers that Mama packed for us.

  “Are you hungry now?” I ask John.

  “Yeah, but I’ll take care of dinner tonight.” He stands, places Maize back in the Jumperoo, and nearly glides into the kitchen. I can’t seem to take my eyes off him as he walks around me and pulls plates from the cabinet. His muscles are practically bulging through his shirt that fits him in all the right places.

  Moving flawlessly around me, he takes the containers from the fridge and places them in the microwave. He grabs two wine glasses from the cabinet, pours them to the top with red wine, and hands me one.

  “What’s the occasion?” I ask, taking a sip. My taste buds do a little dance. It’s been too long since I’ve had wine.

  “You.”

  I nearly choke as I’m swallowing. Just as I open my mouth to say something, the microwave beeps and John begins pulling the containers out and setting them on the counter.

  “Maize’s doing so great and basically on a schedule. You’ve really done a great job, Mila, and I can’t imagine doing this without you.”

  “Well, she’s a great baby. I’ve enjoyed spending time with her and watching her grow.” I glance at the floor, feeling my cheeks heat at his compliment. Before he can respond, I go back to the living room to grab Maize and put her in the bouncy chair that’s in the kitchen. She’s not quite big enough for a big girl high chair, but she’ll be starting on cereal soon.

  Once Maize’s buckled in, John hands me a plate, and I place some fried chicken and scoop out some rice and gravy. It smells delicious. Mama’s cooking reminds me so much of home.

  We share small talk while we eat and discuss Maize. Once we’re both finished, I clean up and put our plates in the dishwasher. The wine rushes through my bloodstream because, of course, we didn’t just have one glass each. I check the clock and realize it’s creeping up on Maize’s bedtime. I make a bottle before handing it over to John, so he can feed her and get her to bed.

  Once Maize’s passed out, John tells me he’s calling it an early night, and though the sun’s barely set, I feel tired too. After I take a quick shower, I head to my room, climb under the blankets, and quickly fall asleep.

  Hours pass, and I wake up to the sound of Maize crying. I’m always on alert and have gotten so good at hearing the slightest sound from her that I’m in John’s room before he even wakes. My eyes feel heavy, but I make a bottle and change her before heading to my room to rock and feed her. I swear she has an internal clock, and she’s either a few minutes ahead or behind, but she’s typically on time with when she wants to eat.

  Once she finishes the bottle, I softly pat her back until she burps, then take her back to John’s room and lay her back down in the co-sleeper. As soon as I stand to walk out, she begins to fuss, so I sit on the edge of the bed and rub her little tummy.

  “You gotta go to sleep, baby girl,” I whisper after a yawn. Each time I try to stand, she becomes more vocal, so I lie on my side and watch her. As long as I’m here, she’s quiet. Though my eyes are heavy, I wait for her to fall asleep, but somehow, I beat her to it.

  Chapter Sixteen

  JOHN

  Smooth, warm skin presses against my bare chest as I snake my arms around a small waist. I hear a low moan as a perky ass pushes against my hard dick, which causes my eyes to bolt open. I’m holding Mila as she sleeps soundly in my arms. I’m wrapped around her—our bodies are the closest they’ve ever been—and it scares the shit out of me how good it feels. As fast as I can, I roll out of bed and stand, trying to put as much distance between us as possible. Mila rolls over, her eyes flutter open, and the realization of where she is flashes on her face.

  She gets out of my bed just as quick as I did and stands on the other side of the room, but her eyes glance down to my dick that’s at full salute. Not allowing another awkward second to pass, I walk out of the bedroom, go into the bathroom, and shut the door. All that can be heard is the beating sound of my heart that’s about to explode out of my chest.

  Just as I lean against the cool wood, two soft knocks ring out.
/>   “Yes?” I ask.

  “I’m sorry,” Mila says quietly on the other side, and it feels like the door may just cave in. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep,” she explains, and the tenderness of her voice nearly breaks me in two. I don’t think I can look at her right now because there’s too much going on inside my head. That was never supposed to happen nor was it supposed to feel so natural.

  I scrub my hands over my face, trying to get ahold of myself, before I face my fears, grab the knob, and crack it open.

  “It’s okay. Don’t worry about it, but don’t let it happen again.” I snap it shut, turn on the faucet, and splash cold water on my face before I let out a deep breath. Ten minutes pass and I feel more at ease than I did before and decide to pretend like it didn’t happen. It’s better that way for both of us; otherwise, it may be too awkward being around her.

  Once I’m back in my bedroom, I change into a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. I notice Maize isn’t in the co-sleeper and know that Mila grabbed her. As soon as I open the door, the smell of bacon hits my senses, and the moment I walk into the kitchen, I see Mila placing eggs and bacon onto two plates. The air in the room goes still, and I feel as if I can’t breathe. It’s uncomfortable, exactly how I didn’t want it to be, and I’m confused by how I feel.

  We sit, both keeping our eyes down.

  “Are we going to talk about the elephant in the room?” Mila finally asks, looking at me.

  “Nope,” I say in a beat. “There’s nothing to talk about.”

  She moves her eggs around on her plate, playing with her food instead of eating. When I look up again, she’s glaring at me. Once she realizes I’m not saying a word about her being in my arms this morning, Mila quickly finishes her breakfast, places her plate in the sink, then picks Maize up from her chair with a bottle in her hand.

  After I’ve cleared the food on my plate and rinsed it, I grab my phone and let Mila know I’ll see her at lunch. Before I leave, I give Maize a kiss on her cheek, and though Mila’s eyes are boring into me, I try my best to avoid her gaze. As I walk to the B&B, I hope today is one those times when being away means “out of sight, out of mind,” but if it’s anything like every other day since she arrived, the thought of her will be the highlight of my day.