Make Me Yours: A Stand-Alone Single Dad Romantic Comedy.

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Make Me Yours: A Stand-Alone Single Dad Romantic Comedy. Page 8

by Tia Louise


  My mouth drops open, and I watch as she reaches under her bed for a plastic, heart-shaped box. It looks like the one the evil queen gave the huntsman for Snow White’s heart, and I pause for a moment to consider just how gruesome that storyline is for children.

  She opens it, and it’s stuffed with ketchup and mustard packets. I’m completely bewildered by all this new information. A puppy? And what the hell is up with all the condiments?

  “Where did you get all of these?” I rake my finger through the little foil pouches.

  She shrugs, taking one out and squishing it in her hand. “Feel it.” We sit together, and I give one a squish. She squishes hers back and forth in her little fingers, whispering, “Gigi says I can’t have them.”

  Pressing my lips together, I think about what a little scientist she is. Or a little weirdo. “You need to mind your Gigi.” Her brow falls, and I lean closer. “But I’ll let you keep them. Don’t get them in your bed. They might pop, and that would make a huge mess. We’d probably have to get a whole new bed.”

  She jumps forward, throwing her arms around my neck. “I love you, Ruby. You’re my best friend.”

  It pretty much seals the deal. “I love you, too. Now put these up and get in the bed.”

  “Maybe if I get all stars I can get a puppy for Christmas like Darling in Lady and the Tramp.”

  Chewing my lip, I look around at all the super nice furniture. I think of the polished wood floors. “Have you talked to your dad about getting a puppy?”

  “Gigi says puppies are a lot of work. She says they’re babies that never grow up, and I’m the baby for now.”

  I think about this a minute, and as much as I hate to say it… “She kind of has a point. Dogs are a lot of work, and you might be too little to help walk it and teach it to do tricks.”

  “Would you help me?” Her little hazel eyes go round, and I won’t lie, it squeezes my heart. How can I say no to that?

  “This isn’t like the ketchup packets, Lil. You’re going to have to ask your daddy about this one.” Her little shoulders drop, and I tuck the blankets tight all down her sides. “Now you’re a well-rolled dumpling.” She nods slowly, her eyes still downcast.

  I exhale a sigh. “Tell you what. If your daddy says you can have a puppy, I’ll for sure help you with it.”

  Her expression flips to excitement so fast, I start to laugh. I’m pretty sure this little con artist knows exactly how powerful her own set of puppy-dog eyes are.

  We read a quick story and finish the night singing “Bella Notte” from Lady and the Tramp before “Now I lay me” prayers and turning out the light.

  I’m standing out on the landing trying to figure out how to handle this situation when I notice Remi on the floor below looking up at me. My heartbeat picks up, and I walk down to where he’s standing.

  “Don’t you have work to do?” I can’t resist teasing him.

  “I’m at a stopping point.” He grins and that dimple makes a special appearance. “I like listening to you sing with her. She never sang so much before you came here.”

  “The songs are the best part of those movies.”

  “Want to have that glass of wine now?”

  It feels like a risky suggestion, but hell if I’ll say no. “I’d love it.”

  10

  Remi

  The lights of the neighborhood reflect across the lake, and the moon is full.

  “You picked a good song for tonight.” We walk through the French doors holding glasses of wine, and I stop in front of the two easels.

  Lillie’s painting is bold black lines and large patches of dark and light blue, but Ruby’s looks like something out of a gallery. It’s delicate abstract with short brush strokes and subtle gradients of color.

  “This is really good. Did you minor in art?”

  “Heck no.” She laughs and shakes her head as she sips her wine. “My dad would never approve of such a useless degree.”

  “Art’s not useless.”

  “It’s not something Kenneth Banks was willing to fund, and I caved just like the pushover he always said I was. Always second-guessing myself…” She steps up beside me looking at the canvas, her slim brow furrowed. “But never mind all that. Earlier today you said something that confused me.”

  I’m still trying to get over this little reveal she just gave me about her childhood. I can’t help wondering how much we have in common.

  “How did I confuse you?”

  “You said your dad criticized you. What in the world could he criticize? You’ve done really well. You served in the military, then you were a huge tech success…” Her dark brow furrows, and she seems almost protective—of me. It’s completely out of left field.

  My father is not my favorite topic, but I’m intrigued by her interest. “I was successful because I followed the plan he approved.”

  “You’re saying there was an alternate plan?” Her eyes narrow, but a smile hints at her lips, those full, kissable, rosebud lips.

  “A plan my father called absolutely ludicrous.” Glancing down, I clear my throat. Not many people know this part of my history. “I wanted to be a singer.”

  Her jaw drops and her pretty, pretty eyes go round. “Shut up.”

  “It’s true.” I walk over and sit on the sofa in the center of the patio.

  She follows me and sits on the table in front of me, excited. “You can sing?”

  “I was in a band in college… for about a minute. Until Howard found out.” I take a sip of the dry wine. “Naturally, he was horrified.”

  “I take it Howard’s your dad?” I nod, and her lips press into a knowing smile. “That explains it.”

  “What?”

  “Lillie has a great ear for music. She never gets off key, and she keeps the tempo steady, even a capella. That’s really huge for a four-year-old.”

  Not what I expected, although I like hearing it. “I thought all children could sing those songs. They all seem to.”

  “Um, no. Most little kids are all over the place. Lillie’s special.” Her voice turns soft. “Like you.”

  An unexpected compliment. It sends my mind flying down that old familiar rabbit hole, but she changes direction quickly. “What kind of band were you in? Rock and roll?”

  “Classic country.”

  She almost chokes on her sip, covering her mouth and laughing. “No way!”

  “Way.”

  “You are a very unexpected man, Remington.”

  “Call me Remi.” I give her a wink and polish off my glass. “I’m sure you wouldn’t know a song on our set list.”

  “Ha! That’s where you’d be wrong.” She points her finger as she polishes off her wine. I reach for the bottle and pour us each another glass. “My mom is a huge classic country fan. It’s how I got my name.”

  Now it’s my turn to be surprised. “You’re named after the Kenny Rogers song?”

  “I am indeed. Ma loves it. She’s fascinated by the Asian war angle.”

  “It’s kind of depressing.” I sip my wine, thinking about the lyrics. “Ruby leaves her crippled husband at home to cat around in town.”

  “First, it’s not clear he was her husband.” She’s counting off on one hand, holding her wine in the other. Absolutely adorable. “Second, a woman her age has wants and needs.”

  “Still, she leaves him to… take her love to town.” I cock an eyebrow, and she raises hers as she sips her wine. “We should have dinner with your mom. I’d like to discuss our shared love of Kenny.”

  “Do you love Kenny Rogers?” She gives me a skeptical look, and I take her hand, singing the first line of his song…

  “Everyone considered him the coward of the county…”

  She laughs, and it’s sort of magical. We’re out on the flagstone patio under the stars, singing, drinking wine under the moon with the lake gleaming behind us. I want her to sit beside me so I can put my arm around her shoulders and pull her close, kiss her head, her lips…

  �
�My favorite is The Gambler.”

  “He made a life out of reading people’s faces.” I study hers, wondering if I’m reading it right. If so…

  “I thought it was weird how they made a whole TV series out of that song. It’s really sad. He dies.” She whispers that part as if it’s a secret.

  “He broke even.”

  A breeze filters through, sweeping a long dark wave over her shoulder. Her chin drops, and I’m fascinated by her. She’s so pretty. When she looks up at me again, her eyes are deep, like she’s contemplating telling me something.

  “What?”

  “You said you don’t want to be like your father, but when you sing, when you listen to your daughter sing and love it, you’re already not like him.”

  Her words flood my chest with warmth. “You said you’ll help me be sure I’m not.”

  “I will.” She smiles and stands. “If I can keep my vision of you clear.”

  I stand with her, and we’re face to face again, close. “What does that mean?”

  She puts her hand on my chest. “It means you tend to cloud my vision.”

  I put my hand over hers, loving the flow of electricity between us. “How do I do that?” My voice is low, confident.

  “You’re a good man, Remi, and you’re so sweet to your daughter.” Her chin lifts and the moon bathes her face in silver. “When you look at me, I find it very hard to be objective.”

  “Objectively, I enjoy looking at you, so good to know.”

  She exhales a laugh, taking a step back. “Sing me your favorite Kenny Rogers song.”

  “Wow… okay… I have to think about that one.” I set my wine glass on the table, retracing our conversation, the things she said. Then I have it. “She believes in me. I’ll never know just what she sees in me…”

  I hold the note and her eyes close. “Mm… that’s nice. You have an amazing voice.”

  Her eyes blink open slowly, and when they meet mine, I want to carry her to my bedroom.

  I’m caught off guard by what she does next. She steps forward, and the hand on my chest slides higher to my collar. At the same time, she places her other hand on my cheek. Before I’m fully aware of what’s happening, she rises on her toes and lightly presses those full, pouty lips to mine.

  It’s a closed-mouth kiss, but my hands are on her at once, pulling her closer, sliding higher to hold her face, threading my fingers in her silky hair, as I open her mouth with mine.

  She makes a little noise when our tongues touch and curl together, and heat floods my torso, centering in my pelvis. I’m instantly hard, and God, I want her in my bed. She tastes like expensive dry wine, and she smells like heaven.

  Sliding my arms around her, I can’t help noting how perfectly she fits against my body, shoulder to chest to stomach. I chase after another, deeper kiss, but she turns her face, pressing her palms against me.

  I release her at once, and when she glances up, her eyes are brimming with emotion.

  She blinks fast, turning away again. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sexually harass you.” Her tone changes to shaky humor. “I might be a little drunk.”

  “I think sexual harassment is premised on who has the most power, and you only had one glass of wine.”

  “Now you’re a lawyer?” She holds the chair and steps around the easels, going quickly toward the house.

  I’m not ready to let her leave. “Hang on… where are you going?”

  “It’s time to walk away. Or maybe run.” She lets out a nervous laugh.

  “I don’t want you to walk away.”

  “You’re right, I’d better run.”

  “Ruby, wait.” I catch her hand, stopping her progress. “Why are you running from me?”

  My hand goes to her waist, and I pull her against my chest. Right where she belongs.

  She reaches up and touches the center of my top lip with her thumb, slipping it down to the bottom. “I’ve wanted to kiss you since that first night…” Then she shakes her head. “But you’re too tempting, Remington Key. You’ll ruin everything.”

  “What would I ruin?” I catch that hand touching my face, holding it to my mouth and kissing those slim fingers.

  She chews her lip as she watches me. “My plans… my goals.” She eases her hands out of mine, and my stomach sinks. “Thank you for the wine. Morning comes early.”

  I watch as she disappears into the house. Her kiss is still warm on my lips, and I can still feel her body next to mine, the scent of her hair all around me.

  She says I’m too tempting. She has no idea how tempting she is to me. I’m not sure how we come back from that kiss. I’m not sure I want to…

  11

  Ruby

  “It’s official. I’m my own worst enemy.” I flop on the couch in Drew’s office, scrubbing my fingers on my forehead.

  “I feel like we’ve been here before… Just a week ago, actually.” Drew is sitting behind her desk, typing her client notes into her computer. I’ve watched her do it a thousand times.

  This morning, I came straight to her office after I dropped Lillie off at preschool.

  As soon as Lillie was up, I had her dressed and out the door. We drove to the only McDonald’s in Oakville and had Egg McMuffins. Suck it, Eleanor. Then on the way out, I picked up two more ketchup packets so Lillie wouldn’t tell where we ate.

  The last thing I wanted was to bump into Remi after I attacked him last night. God, that kiss… My toes still curl at the memory of his mouth, his tongue… not just that, his arms around me, holding me so close, kissing my fingers. His voice when he sings. I had to go straight to the shower and turn the cold water on full force…

  “Now I’m bribing small children with ketchup packets.”

  “I can’t even begin to guess what that means.” My best friend flips her yellow legal pad closed and turns her attention to me. “Make it fast. Hunter will be here in fifteen minutes.”

  “Oh, screw Hunter and his Watergate stories!” I’m on my feet, still scrubbing my forehead. “I’ve got a real problem. One that doesn’t involve Richard Nixon or the Cubans.”

  Hunter is one of our shared clients—or I guess, was one of our shared clients. They’re all Drew’s now. He has a paranoid obsession with government surveillance.

  Her lips press into a knowing smirk and she nods. “You slept with Remi.”

  “Nooo!” I flop onto to my stomach, burying my face in my hands. “But I would have. I sure as hell wanted to. It’s only a matter of time before I do it, and then I’ve blown the whole deal.”

  Drew tosses her pen on the desk and leans back in her chair. “What happened?”

  “I kissed him.”

  “Oh.” I hear the squeak of her chair as she leans forward, and I carefully turn my head to meet her eyes. “That’s serious.”

  “It is, right?” Swinging my legs around, I’m on my feet and pacing. “Kissing is almost worse than sex… It’s like in Pretty Woman. Never kiss a client.”

  “It’s definitely more intimate. You’re all up close and personal, breathing each other’s air, noses touching, sliding your tongues together… sliding your bodies together.”

  “Drew!”

  She starts to laugh. “Was it a good kiss?”

  “Oh sweet mother…” I drop to sitting on the couch. “It was the greatest kiss of all time. I think I’m in love with him.”

  “You’ve known him three days. You are not in love with him.”

  “Have you ever seen him with his daughter? It’s the most adorable thing.” I wrap my arms around my waist and fall to the side. “I think he might be the perfect man.”

  “No one is perfect.” She’s using her therapist voice. “You’re idealizing him, and you know that means you’re setting yourself up for disillusionment.”

  “He sings.”

  Therapist-voice gone. “What does that mean?”

  “It means he’s a singer. He was an actual lead singer in a country band in college. And his voice…” Anoth
er shiver. “It’s like butter.”

  “Huh.” Drew tilts her head to the side. “I had no idea Remi could sing. That’s really neat.”

  “So now you’re thinking it might be an appropriate idealization?” I nod my head being very I told you so.

  “I’m thinking we’ll have to take him to karaoke next time they do it at the Red Cat.”

  “They do karaoke at the Red Cat?”

  “It’s something new they’re starting. Now that all the college kids are coming over from Charleston. Gray told me about it—apparently Billy told him.”

  “Oh shit, I suck.” I stand and walk over to her desk again. “I’ve been so knocked out by this tsunami named Remi, I haven’t even asked. How’s it going with Gray?”

  “You know, I’m going to let that slide.” She taps her pen on the notepad. “Because you’re right. Remi did sort of come out of nowhere.”

  “So Gray’s back… and things are good?”

  A smile curls her lips, and the light in her eyes makes my personal concerns take a momentary backseat. I love seeing my friend so happy—especially after all the shit she’s been through, how long she’s waited, and all the assholes who tried to destroy her happiness.

  “I can tell things are good.” I give her a wink. “You’re glowing.”

  Her lips press together, and she makes a sneaky face. “I am glowing, but not just because I’m so happy.”

  It takes me a second to catch up, but when I do. “Holy shit, you’re pregnant?” My voice is a shriek, and I’m on my feet jumping up and down. “You’re pregnant!”

  She starts to laugh, and she’s out of her chair hugging me. “I am.”

  “We’re going to have a shower and we’re going to pick out all these cute little baby clothes… What are you having?”

  “Don’t know yet. It’s super early, so don’t tell anyone.” She leans on her desk and her expression dims slightly. “They say in the first six weeks anything can happen.”

  I’m not hearing any of that. “The only thing that’s going to happen is we’re going to have a blast! I can’t wait… and let me know if you need help with anything. Lillie’s in school every morning, so I can run errands.” My lips twist and I nod. “It might actually be helpful not to be lurking around the house most mornings alone.”

 

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