by Aidèe Jaimes
At home, we set Mia to bed and straighten out the house, working automatically, sensing the other’s needs without having to say much. Simply working in comfortable silence.
We head upstairs together, but there we split, he to the guestroom and me to the master. Before the doors close, he says, “Thank you for going with me. It was a good day.”
“Yes, it was.”
There is no expectation for anything beyond a friendly goodnight, and that’s okay. Today has been so much more than I could have hoped for.
It was normal, as he’d said, and oh so needed. A break from the constant emotional rollercoaster we have been on these last few weeks. A possibility that things could work out.
CHAPTER 13
It’s an amazingly beautiful Friday afternoon, and after agreeing to meet Jess and her small crew at a neighborhood park, I pick up Mia from school and head that way.
There’s a bit of a drive, more than I would have done on my own, but with her kids there, and her niece who is Mia’s age, I knew she would have a blast and that makes it worth the trip.
After Mia runs to the kids, I go and sit by Jess on a freshly painted bench. “Hey, have you been here a while?”
“Nah. We stopped at Shawn’s to grab Bailey first.” Shawn is Jess’ older brother. He recently moved here from Alabama with his wife, Anne, and five-year-old daughter, Bailey. Jess has been helping keep Baily entertained so that they can unpack, thus, we are here in their neighborhood.
Though the park itself isn’t too big, it is cute and has quite a lot to do in the one small play area. The wooden structure has slides on four sides, monkey bars, a low climbing wall, and even a built-in scavenger hunt. There isn’t a sunshade, but with the amount of large oaks that loom over the thing and the shade they provide, it’s not needed.
“So what’s up with you?” Jess asks as she slides down a little on her seat, stretching out her long legs. “Is Owen still in the guestroom?”
“Yeah. But I hope not for much longer. We have been on better speaking terms, and I told him we should start with the counseling again. I want us to work. He does, too. It’s still a little awkward, though.”
“Mm. How’s Mia handling it?”
“We’re doing our best not to let it affect her in any way. We don’t talk about it at all if she’s around. I just wonder sometimes if he’s going to really give me another chance. I feel like such a screw-up, Jess.”
“Do you want another chance?”
“I think I do. I have no idea what I want anymore. I keep thinking about everything Dr. Riker said. She said there’s a reason we’ve been together so long. As a couple, we just work. The hope was the preservation of that unit. I agree with her. I mean, if we can figure this shit out, we can be something special again.”
“You do work!” Jess exclaims. “Everyone always says that!”
“Who’s everyone?”
“You know, just people.”
I laugh at that because we don’t really hang out with other people. It’s usually just us.
We go into a comfortable silence for a long while. There’s a lot to be said about being able to sit with someone without feeling that desperate need to fill the silent void. And for someone with kids, the ability to go five minutes without talking is something to be savored.
But alas, five minutes is usually all you get.
“Momma! Come swing me!” Mia begs.
“Let Clara do it,” Jess tell me lazily.
I consider it, but the poor eight-year old is already swinging Caleb and Bailey.
“I’ll do it. It’s a little chilly anyway, it will warm me up.” I pull on the long sleeves of the gray sweater I’m wearing to prove my point.
Setting my kid in the baby swing because that’s all that’s free, I start to swing.
“Higher, Momma, higher!” she commands, hitting her ‘r’s hard as she tries to make sure she says them correctly, especially with the other kids around. “Higher!”
“Baby, I’m scared you’ll go flying off if I swing any harder. I don’t want you to get hurt.”
“Momma, please! High like Bailey.” She points to where Clara is pushing the five-year-old so high I can already see her falling hard and busting a lip.
“Um, I’ll do a little bit higher only, okay?”
Pushing her as hard as my motherly instinct will allow, which isn’t high at all as far as she’s concerned, I become completely focused on Mia. So, engrossed am I in my task of getting her just high enough, but not too much, that when the deep voice sounds from right behind me and says, “You followin’ me around, Darlin’?” it stuns me.
I spin to face him, forgetting that I’d just pushed Mia the hardest I’d dared so far. With barely enough time to register his face, I am hit full force from behind. The impact takes my breath away and sends me flying. I wish I could describe what exactly happens as I go hurdling through the air, but it happens so fast, all I know is that one moment I see Bo, the next I am scrambling to get myself up, spitting brown mulch and holding my left ribs.
I am lifted easily and engulfed in warmth as he pulls me to him. “Are you okay?” he asks full of concern.
“Cris!” I hear Jess’ voice as she runs to me. She stands in front of me and tries to pry me from Bo’s arms. “Oh my God, I saw the whole thing! Are you all right? That must have hurt!”
“Yup,” I sputter out, limping to the nearest bench. “Can… you… get… Mia?” I ask her. Poor Mia, she’s screaming bloody murder trying to get out and Clara isn’t strong enough to lift her out.
Bo sits with me on the bench and starts pulling large bits of the playground mulch out of my hair, then starts wiping at my boobs.
“Hey!” I swat his hands away.
“You’ve got some dirt there, cherè,” he says, but when I look down there’s nothing there. “You did, I promise. I dusted it all off.” He laughs in that wicked manner of his that makes me want him even when I know it’s a bad idea.
“What are you doing here anyway?” I ask him reproachfully.
“Came to get the kids for the weekend. Takin’ them to Carowinds. Thought I’d let them play here for a little while before we left.”
“The kids?” I ask just as I spot JB and Sammy playing with Jess’ children, and Mia, too. Sammy, being only a little older than Mia is running around with her. JB looking a little bored, stands leaning against the swing post. He’s a tall kid, and I think he’s probably going to be as tall as his father, while Sammy is actually a tiny little thing, shorter than Mia.
Jess is over by one of the slides with Caleb, throwing Bo and I suspicious glances every chance she gets.
“Your friend doesn’t like me anymore. I guess that means she knows about us?” he asks.
“She knows everything about me. Actually, she’s sort of what pushed me into going with you in the first place, even though she insists it wasn’t like that.”
“I think if looks could kill, I’d already be a spook.”
“You and your spooks!” I say laughing. He chuckles, too, and it rumbles through me all the way to my core, making me squirm in my seat because it’s so hard to be near him as it is. “So where does Laura live?”
“Right over there.” He points to a pretty white craftsman style house across the street from the park, and I see his black truck parked beside a red Jeep Cherokee.
“Pretty house.”
“It was in bad shape when we first bought it, which made it affordable in this neighborhood. Took us a few years to get it to what it is.”
My lip feels strange and when I touch my fingertip to it I wince from the sting. “How’s work? Have you been busy with the cold and all?”
“Yeah, actually. Lots of tile replacement. There’s almost an overload of work and I’ve had to get more hands on with some of the jobs. Don’t get me wrong, I love it. You know this used to be Dan’s line of work, right?”
“No, I had no idea. I thought he worked as a life insurance agent,” I say recallin
g the many morbid conversations Jess and I had with the older man where he tried to sell us insurance.
“Only because he refuses to retire. Anyway, I went to work for him after I left the Marines. Then I started my own business when I moved here. I think it makes him proud,” he says smiling, and I can’t help but smile back.
He leans closer. Though I don’t say anything, it’s almost impossible not to notice the arm he sets on the bench behind me. His hand rests on my back, his fingers gently circling my spine.
No, I don’t stop him. Instead, I melt into him a little. I can feel the ache between my legs the longer it goes on, that throb that I get from the mere thought of this man beside me.
But more than that, there’s another kind of ache in my chest that’s suffocating. Inhaling deeply, I let it go slowly in hopes of finding some relief. I bend over, taking deeper breaths and pushing into my stomach.
“Are you all right, darlin’?” he asks, bending over with me, his large hand at my shoulder now, pulling me closer to him.
“Mm, it’s heartburn. It will go away.” After a few minutes, it does, and I sit up, but he doesn’t take his hand away.
“Cris,” he almost whispers. “We need to talk.”
He doesn’t need to clarify; I know exactly what he wants.
“There’s nothing left to say.”
“That’s not true. If anything, there’s too much being left unsaid. Like how much I miss you and I know you miss me. That I need you. I want you with me, Cris.”
“You know my answer.”
“I don’t accept that! This feeling in my gut can’t be wrong, chère.”
“Then I don’t know what you want me to do. Bo, we both knew this was going to be a one-time thing.”
“We are supposed to be together. I know it. You know it!”
“This isn’t the place to have this conversation.” I throw my chin in his kids’ direction as they approach us, and I move away from him, giving them a spot to stand between us.
“Dad, I forgot to pack my iPad,” JB says.
“Okay, go get it. But first I want you to meet Miss Cris. She’s a good friend of mine.” He looks to me and winks when they’re not looking, the seriousness from just a few seconds ago completely gone from his face. “Cris, this is my son Jake and my daughter Samantha.”
“My name’s not Samantha!” she rolls her eyes at him. “I’m Sammy, silly!”
“Oh right, Sammy,” he agrees with her, grabbing her by the waist and sending her into a fit of giggles as he tickles her.
“Nice to meet you,” I tell them. “And this is my daughter, Mia,” I say as my little girl comes running to me after seeing another child within close proximity.
“Hello, sweetness,” Bo says to her.
“Mia, do you remember Mr. Bo? He’s Mrs. Lydia’s baby,” I tell her.
“He’s kind of a big baby, Momma,” she whispers loudly into my ear.
“A big baby!” Bo roars with laughter and slaps his knee. Mia’s neck practically disappears as she snuggles into me and presses her face to my breast when Bo goes to poke her tummy. “She’s beautiful, just like her mother. Those eyes!” he whistles. “That there be trouble.”
“Just like her mother?” I ask mischievously, but then I remember myself. Too late. His eyes lock onto mine and the devil is in them as the look he gives me is unmistakable.
“I think her mother’s eyes are more than trouble, for me at least.”
I swallow hard and look down to Mia. “Say thank you, baby,” I tell her, though all it really does is make her hide further into me. “Your kids are gorgeous, too.”
They are really beautiful. Though they look nothing like Bo. Blond, ice blue eyes, fair skin. All their mother, I suppose. But what they did get was that up-to-no-good glint in their eyes, both of them. If nothing else gives them away as his kids, that would.
“Dad!” JB whines. “I need the truck key so I can get my iPad in my bag.”
Without a word Bo takes them out and throws the keys at his son, who catches them easily.
“I want to go, too!” Sammy screams when she sees her older brother leaving.
“JB!” Sammy cries. The boy huffs, but takes his sister by the hand and they head to their mother’s house across the street.
Bo turns his attention back to Mia, who watched him intently when she thought he wasn’t looking. She seems to find him as fascinating as I do. “So, sugar, how old are you? Let me guess, ten!”
Mia turns her face away, but then her little hand snakes out from between our chests and puts up four little fingers.
“What! Four? No way. You must be an older four, right?”
She laughs and finally turns to him, then shakes her head.
“Mia, do you want to see somethin’ really neat?”
Her big eyes light up as she sits up with interest. “Yes.”
Bo pulls out something from one of his pockets and hands it to her. “Do you know what this is?”
She inspects the silver instrument, picking at the old yellow tape on it. “What is it?” she asks him.
“Well, it’s called a harmonica. Now don’t peel that off,” he says to her when she continues to pry at the thing with her sharp fingernails. “I’ve had this here since I was about your age. My daddy gave it to me. On that tape are the different notes I wrote so that I could learn to play it.”
“Is that true?” I ask in amazement. “I didn’t know you played the harmonica.”
“Among other things,” he replies, but the way he says it I’m not so sure we’re still talking about instruments.
“What else do you play?”
“Guitar, banjo. Dan taught me to play the piano, but I hate it.” Bo turns his attention back to Mia, taking the small thing from her. “Would you like to hear me play it?”
“Yes!” she squeals.
He begins with When the Saints Go Marching In, and does a quick rendition of Let It Go, saying, “That one I had to learn for Sammy.”
Then he begins to play music I’ve never heard before, tunes written in the wild swamps where he grew up. And when he begins to sing the words in French, his voice deep and so melodic, I am transported back to that night at Bonheur with the fireflies and the crickets and the feel of him all around. I don’t understand any of the words, but when I look at him, I see the meaning in his eyes. They speak of love and of ache. My eyes well with unshed tears and I want so desperately to touch him.
Afraid of what he’ll say, when the song in over I ask over the knot that’s formed in my throat, “What is that song called?”
“Little Toad on the Log. It’s a children’s song.” he says. The corner of his eyes crinkle and his lips pull up as he tries not to laugh because he knows I’d read so much more into the words.
I swat at him in annoyance as he starts another happy tune for Mia. She dances on my knee and hums with the beat.
He continues to play with her, and she is beside herself with giddiness. It’s a bittersweet moment, to be sure. Sweet because of the way that I feel for him. To see him interacting with my daughter in such an affectionate way, that he could win her over so easily, gives me a glimpse of what life could be like if things were different. Bitter because things are not different, and to have him playing with her now… Even that feels like cheating.
Mia leaves us to go back to the playground, and we both stare after her.
“Where did she get those blue eyes?” Bo asks. “Does your husband…” he doesn’t finish.
“No. Owen has green eyes. I guess we just had it in our genes.” I automatically bite my lip, probably to ease some of the stiffness, and I am reminded of the injury. “Do I have a fat lip?” I ask him.
“A little,” he says, touching his thumb to the swollen skin. His eyes are glued there, and I know he’s feeling the same intense pull I have to him.
Forgetting the world around me, I swallow hard and almost bite his thumb when I am suddenly shoved to the side as Jess squeezes herself between us
. Bo laughs in real amusement, his turquoise eyes twinkling.
“What’s going on here?” Jess asks. “Looked like you were having a very interesting conversation. Maybe a little too interesting?” Her brows lift in question.
I for one, am happy for the reprieve. It’s too hard to breathe around Bo as it is, but to have him touch me… I just can’t think at all.
“I… I have to go to the bathroom,” I stutter to Jess, still trying to regain my senses. “Can I leave Mia with you for a few minutes? I need to go check this lip.” I pull down on my mouth and she scrunches up her face.
“Ouch. I didn’t realize you’d busted your lip.”
“Neither did I.” There was already a sense overload going on at the time. Lip injury was not that important I guess. “I’ll be right back.” I almost run to the bathroom that’s just beyond the play area and bolt the door.
Looking at myself in that metal “mirror,” I see that my lip isn’t near as bad as it feels to my tongue, though there is some bruising on the inside. There’s only a little bit of blood, and I rinse that off with cool water, then splash my entire face to cool off that wildfire Bo created within me.
Taking several calming breaths, I unlock the door and make to head out, but don’t take even one step before I’m shoved back in.
“What the!”
Bo’s inside and turning the bolt on the door. Then before I have any time to register what he’s doing, he’s on me. His mouth is on mine, painful, bruising, and it has nothing to do with the injury.
I respond just as fiercely because I’m starved for him. There’s no other reason, but that I do need him. I do miss him.
He lifts me and I instinctively wrap my legs around his waist, grinding myself on the hard length in his pants, and boy is it big! His hands are everywhere. The taste of blood and him mingle in my mouth, and even though it hurts, I don’t pull away.
He never presses me against the wall, and I can only guess it’s because we’re in a public restroom, and who the hell knows what kind of nasty there is in here. Instead, his strong arms hold me up to him firmly, giving no hint at fatigue.
If anything, he lifts me higher when his hands start to delve into the backside of my jeans, sliding in, between my butt cheeks and finding the very wet core of me. When a long finger slips inside, I finally break the kiss only to moan his name, my fingers digging into the back of his neck.