by Carian Cole
“She’s a client.”
Gram raises her eyebrows at me. “I know, I know,” I say, holding my hands up. “I broke my own rule, but there’s just something about her. Every time I touch her, my stomach does back flips. I can barely tattoo her without my hands shaking. I’ve never felt like that before.”
“Ahhh . . . chemistry is so wonderful. I remember that feeling.”
“Yeah. That. She’s really cute, too, and kinda shy. She has a good job, and she’s totally normal. She doesn’t party. She doesn’t have fake tits . . . she listens to me when I talk, like she really cares about what I’m saying, ya know?”
A warm smile touches her lips. “She sounds like a lovely girl for you, sweetheart. I like her already.”
“Yeah, but here’s the problem—she won’t go out with me.”
“Oh,” Gram says, frowning. “Well, why not? Why wouldn’t she want to date you?”
“She’s thirty-six. Her husband just left her a few months ago, after being married for eighteen fucking years. He had an affair with a younger girl. She’s got two kids, a teenage daughter and a son a little older than Katie. Her head still seems kinda messed up over it. She keeps saying she’s not ready, and that I’m too young for her.”
Gram listens intently, her eyes growing wider the longer I talk, and she finally lets out a low whistle. “Oh, boy. You have your work cut for you, I’m afraid.”
Taking a deep breath, I stare at the old grandfather clock against the wall, which belonged to my great grandfather, and then my grandfather. The cherry wood is gorgeous and perfectly carved, and the ticking lulls me as I stare at it, almost hypnotizing me. Gram knows that I’m in love with this clock and has promised to will it to me when she passes, which is something I don’t even want to think about, but I will cherish that clock forever.
“If you really like her, you’re going to have to be patient with her, but also let her know how you feel. She probably feels very confused right now and distrusting of men in general, and I really don’t blame her.”
“You’re right. She’s scared. I can see it when I talk to her.”
“I’m sure she is. And the age thing, for her, it probably seems like a big deal. I would guess that she feels much older than she actually is. You’re mature for your age, and eventually, she’ll see that, but I’m sure it’s going to take some time.”
“So what do I do? I kissed her last night, and it was off the charts. I know she felt it, too, but she keeps putting walls up.”
“I’m not sure, love. I think you’re going to just have to give her time. Let her know that you’re willing to wait for her. Are you?”
“Hell, yeah. I’ll wait. I don’t want to, obviously. But for her, yeah . . . I’ll wait.
She puts her small hand on my arm. “She needs to feel like you could be something stable for her. Her husband just shattered her world, right?”
I nod. “Yeah, she was blindsided. For real.”
“Then you have to gain her trust. She has to find out what a wonderful man you are. And you really are, Lukas. You’re a gentleman. She doesn’t know it right now, but soon she will, and she will be very lucky to have you in her life.”
I don’t mind giving Ivy time to figure out that I’m not gonna hurt her, but damn, I want her. Now.
Gram squeezes my arm softly to get my attention. “And what about the children? Are you ready to be involved with a woman who has two children? That’s a lot of responsibility, and it won’t be easy. She’s not going to be able to just get up and go on a whim, or hang out all night at concerts with you. Have you thought about all of that?”
I roll my head back and forth against the couch. “Well . . . sorta, but maybe not in that much detail. I love kids. I have no problem with her having children. I haven’t even told her I play in the band sometimes.”
She smacks my arm. “Lukas! You have to tell her. No secrets, all right? When will you boys learn? I tell you all over and over. No lies. No secrets. Why is it so hard?” She shakes her head in exasperation.
Laughing, I give in, knowing she’s right. “Okay, okay. I’ll tell her. I’m going to ask her to come to the next show with me. Maybe she’ll actually say yes.”
“You have to bring her here when you get this sorted. I want to meet her.”
“Definitely. I could love this chick, Gram. I can feel it. She’s the one.”
A huge smile spreads across her face, and her eyes sparkle. “You’re such a romantic, Lukas. You’re just like your grandfather. You remind me so much of him when he was your age.”
I straighten up and turn fully toward her, interested to hear more about my grandfather. “Really? What was he like?”
She literally glows as she gazes at his photograph on the wall. “He was a very special man. Smart. Generous. Good looking. Everybody loved him.”
“I wish I could have met him.”
“I think most of you boys get your romantic side from him. Your Uncle Ronnie is the same way. Unfortunately, your father is not. He’s not a lover, but a drifter. He doesn’t know what he wants. He never has.”
I stare at the clock and chew the inside of my cheek before asking my next question, not sure I want to hear the answer. “Do you ever hear from him? My father?”
She shakes her head and frowns. “No. Not since your grandfather passed.” Her voice drops. “But that’s okay. He told me about you and Vandal, and that’s all that matters. I can’t chase your father anymore. He’s taken years off my life already.”
“I don’t understand what his deal is. Why doesn’t he care about us?” I’ll never understand why my parents didn’t want me, and even though I try to tell myself it doesn’t matter, and that it’s their loss, and all the other bullshit that therapists and shrinks fed me growing up, it still bothers me that I was given away and forgotten like trash.
“Sweetheart, he doesn’t even care about himself. He’s not capable of caring about anyone else. We all love you and Vandal, no matter what. Don’t let his bad choices and shortcomings affect you.”
I crack my knuckles and stand up. “I should get going.” I take her hand and help her up. “Thanks for listening to me.”
“Anytime. You’ll be here for Christmas? You can bring your friend and her children. The more the merrier.”
I’m not sure Ivy will be ready to have a family Christmas dinner with me in a few weeks. Especially with this crew. “We’ll see, Gram.”
VANDAL AND KATIE are still at the kitchen table coloring when we return from our talk, and my cousin Talon has joined them. Vandal is grinning like an idiot and I can tell something is up.
“What’s so funny?” I ask him.
He nods his head at Talon. “Tell him.”
My cousin just shakes his head and says nothing. “Tal, tell me,” I say. “What’s up?”
“He’s getting married!” Katie yells excitedly.
“What? To who?” I don’t even remember him having a girlfriend.
“In a month or two, I’m not sure yet.”
Vandal nudges him again. “Tell him all of it.”
Talon makes a face, and I can tell Vandal is pissing him off. “It’s a social experiment that a group of psychologists and relationship experts are running. My mom is friends with the director.”
I squint at him. “Social experiment? What’s that mean?”
“He’s gonna marry a total fucking stranger,” Vandal interrupts. “Like a lab rat.”
My gaze rivets on Talon, shocked. “Wow, really? A stranger?”
He nods. “Yeah. We don’t get to meet or see each other, or know anything about each other at all. We see each other for the first time at the wedding.”
“Holy shit.” I don’t know what else to even say. It’s crazy, but also, kinda cool.
“We have to fill out all these quizzes and talk to the shrinks, and they match us up with what they think is our perfect match. So, we get married and have to stay together for six months. After that, we can stay together o
r split up, and we each get fifty thousand dollars.”
“So you’re doing this for the money, right?” Vandal asks.
“No, asshole. I don’t need money. I have shit luck with chicks. I want to see if this works.”
I lean against the wall, captivated with this idea. “I think it’s wild,” I say. “Is it televised? Like a reality show?”
He shakes his long brown hair. “No. We just journal everything.”
“Well, I think it’s cool, and I’m really interested to see how it goes.”
“Aren’t you supportive?” Vandal teases.
“You’re a dick.”
“Boys! I cannot even count the amount of money you owe me right now. Do you think I can’t hear you just because I’m over here making meringue?”
“Sorry, Gram,” we all say in unison.
“And you,” she points to Vandal. “Leave your cousin and your brother alone. There’s nothing wrong with wanting to find love.”
“They’re gonna find themselves buying Divorce for Dummies, Gram. Don’t you care?”
She throws a bowl into the sink. “Of course I care. But I want you to be nice to others.”
“I can’t, Gram. The darkness lives in me.”
Gram shakes her head, but I can tell she’s laughing. Vandal is gonna make her insane. And rich.
“I’m outta here,” I say. “Van, I’ll see you on Monday?”
He nods without looking up at me because he’s coloring a butterfly black in Katie’s book. “Yup,” he says.
“Talon, good luck, man.”
“Thanks.”
Katie stands up on her chair and puts her arms around my neck. I hug her back tightly. “Uncle Lukas, do you want to come home with us tonight?”
Kissing her forehead, I gently place her back down on the chair. “Not tonight, baby. But when Daddy needs me to babysit, you can come to my place.”
“Yay!” she yells.
“Tonight, we’re watching cartoons, Katie-bug,” Vandal says, and then glances to me. “Lukas, you can come hang out if you want.”
“Thanks, but I’ve got some stuff to do.” I grab another cookie and give Gram a hug as she hands me a big Tupperware container filled with cookies and brownies.
“Take these, honey.”
Well, damn. I’m going to be on a sugar high for the rest of the weekend.
CHAPTER 9
IVY
I STOP at Macy’s bedroom door and peek inside to see what she’s doing. She’s laying on her bed, reading with her ear buds in. Her room is actually clean for once, which is a huge difference from a few months ago when she had so many clothes thrown around that I couldn’t see the floor. I hope this is going to be a new habit.
She suddenly looks up and pulls the ear buds off. “Hey, Mom. What’s up?”
“I’m heading out, but I won’t be home late. What time is Shelly coming over?”
“She’s on her way here now. Did you talk to that cute guy? Maybe kinda hint around that I like him?”
I get an instant stress headache and a strange feeling in my stomach. “No, sweetie, I really don’t talk to him. He’s just my tattoo artist. He only stopped by to fix the shed.”
“Well, maybe at your next appointment you could sorta say something?” she asks hopefully.
“Macy, I’m not sure I feel comfortable with that. I’m your mother, and that would be inappropriate. Just behave yourselves while I’m gone, please. There’s food in the fridge.”
“Whatever. Have fun.” She puts her ear buds back in and goes back to her book, dismissing me for now.
Fun. I have no faith that tonight will be fun at all, and I wish I could just stay home. Waiting in the living room, I watch the street from the window until I see Tim’s car pull into my driveway. With a heavy sigh, I put my coat on and head outside into the frigid night air, not even giving him the chance to come to my front door. Do men even do that anymore for a date? Not that this is a date, but I’m curious.
“I would have come to your door,” is the first thing he says when I get in the passenger seat of his SUV, so I guess some men still do show up at the door
I shrug. “It’s all right.”
“I thought we’d try that new bar and grill place,” he says, backing the car out into the street.
I force a smile at him. “That sounds great.” I’m not even hungry, because my stomach is still in knots over Lukas. I tried to distract myself all day by cleaning the house and doing laundry to get my mind off him, but instead, I found myself daydreaming about him randomly throughout the day. Suddenly, I was having quick flashbacks of how his lips felt on mine, sending warm shivers coursing through my body.
“I’m glad you finally agreed to go out with me. I’ve thought you were attractive since the day you interviewed me.” Tim smiles over at me and then averts his eyes back to the road. “I was disappointed to find out you were married, to be honest.”
Ugh. How do I even reply to that? I’m a little disturbed that he was checking me out during the interview process. That seems a bit unprofessional to me. I really shouldn’t have agreed to this dinner. I already know that there isn’t any chemistry here, and I’m not going to want to go out with him again, so it’s going to be really awkward if I ever have to fire him. I’m sure he won’t be attracted to me then.
“Well, like I said, Tim, I don’t believe in dating co-workers.”
“I’m hoping I can change your mind.”
Saying nothing, I turn to stare out the window, just as we’re driving past Lukas’ tattoo parlor. Could the timing be any worse? Red holiday lights shine from around his business sign, and little lights glow amber in the upstairs windows of his apartment. As we drive further away, a sense of sadness creeps up on me. If I had said yes to Lukas earlier, we’d probably be having dinner together right now. I could be smiling at how his hair falls over his face, covering those dark, sexy eyes of his.
The new restaurant is packed. Even with the reservation Tim made, we have to wait thirty minutes to get a table. It’s so loud, from the music playing over the speakers and people talking around us, that we really can’t talk while we wait, which he takes as an opportunity to play around on his phone.
“The emails never stop,” he finally says to me. “It’s hard to get away from work.”
I smile sympathetically at him. Tim is an electrical engineer, and a good one from what I’ve heard. His performance reviews have been consistently excellent since he was hired five years ago. He’s definitely not a slacker.
“It’s okay. I understand,” I reply.
Finally, our little pager goes off and we’re taken to a table not far away from the bar. There aren’t many places to eat in this small town, so it appears that everyone is flocking here to eat and hang out.
“You look great,” Tim says after I take my winter coat off and sit down across from him at the tiny table. I notice his eyes lingering at the v of my sweater. I normally don’t wear anything that shows off even the tiniest bit of cleavage at the office, but when I go out, I like to look a little more human and less like an office worker. Now, though, I’m afraid I’m sending the wrong message. Not that my boobs are huge or really very visible, but there is a bit of cleavage showing, which he has managed to zone in on.
“Thanks,” I say, opening my menu and strategically holding it so he can’t look at my chest anymore. I hate this awkwardness. Tim isn’t a bad looking guy at all, to be honest. In fact, he’s actually pretty good looking. His short brown hair is perfectly styled in the latest men’s do, with a little bit messed up at the front. He’s tall and lean, with bright sky-blue eyes. He always dresses well, and looks as though he’s stepped out of a men’s clothing ad. A lot of the women at the office flirt with him and hang out in his office for unnecessarily long periods of time. I peek up at him as he peruses the menu. Maybe I’m being too hard on him and need to drop my defenses a little. He is a nice guy—a little annoying sometimes, but still a decent, hard-working guy. Lindsay
is right; I need to give people a chance and not run away from everyone just because Paul hurt me.
“What are you going to have?” I ask him while I attempt to narrow down my own choices.
“I think I’m going to get the rib eye. I’ve been dying for a good steak. How ‘bout you? Please don’t get a salad,” he jokes.
I smile over the menu at him. “I think I’m going to have the vegetable ravioli. That sounds really good.”
He nods in agreement. “It does. I’ve heard everything here is good.”
The waitress arrives to takes our order, and I order a white wine with my dinner, hoping it will calm my nerves.
“So, how have you been doing?” Tim asks. “You know, after everything that’s happened?”
The way he says it makes me feel like I’ve been in an accident or something. Like there was an incident. I wonder if people in the office have been talking about me, feeling sorry for me. I want to crawl under the table and hide.
“Okay, I suppose. It’s been a hard adjustment for me and the kids, but I’m slowly getting used to the perils of being single,” I reply, slightly sarcastically.
“How old are your kids?”
“Seventeen and seven.”
He bites into a roll. “Seventeen?” he repeats, with his mouth full of bread. “Damn. I didn’t realize your daughter was that old.”
I nod and sip my wine. “Yes, I had her right out of high school.” I’m not sure when seventeen became an age that was considered old.
“I don’t have any kids,” he says, taking another roll from the basket in the center of our table. “I can’t imagine having a teenager right now at my age, though.”
“I’m surprised you’re not married.” I wonder why a man in his mid-thirties isn’t married, and to the best of my knowledge, never has been. Maybe that’s a red flag that he’s a player, or just not a good catch.
He laughs. “Yeah, I’ve heard the rumors floating around the office that I’m gay.” Yeah, or that.
“Are you?”
He almost chokes on his bread, throwing his head back laughing. “Ivy, I can assure you, I am not gay. I just haven’t met a woman I felt like I could stay committed to for the rest of my life.” He takes a sip of his beer. “If it happens, it happens. If not, I’m totally fine just dating and having a good time. The last thing I want is to get married and then end up having an affair because I wasn’t ready to give up variety.”