“I wasn’t sure there was anything to tell,” I say, walking back up the stairs to him. “I thought maybe Gage was just upset after the incident with Dash.”
“You’ve known that long?”
Ugh! This is why it’s not a good idea to date an employee. It’s rough. “Yes, but I couldn’t tell you. It was confidential. It still is.” I reach for his hand. “I wish I could’ve been the one to tell you. I’m sorry you found out that way.”
He gives me a little nod, but not enough to make me feel he accepted my apology. “I need to get to the office.”
“I’m glad you came back,” I say. “Thank you for talking to me.”
Another little head nod, and he turns for the stairs. I’m not sure he’s ever been upset with me before, and I don’t like the feeling. But I love that he came back. I have to remind myself that fighting doesn’t mean the end of anything. Fighting, though I hate it, is normal.
Rushing down the stairs, I call out to him as he reaches the front door. “I never answered your question.” From the look in his eyes, I can tell he knows exactly which one—the missing item on my list. “I didn’t mind fingers,” I say, lifting my eyebrows at him.
He smiles wide, and with that, I know I’m forgiven. He walks towards me, unbuttoning his shirt, and I actually squeal a little as he catches me by my waist. “You can explain to your brother why I’m late.”
* * *
I cut out of the office around six, and it’s past ten now. Mateo’s still not home. I blame myself because I made him very late this morning. I also blame Gage. He’s holding Mateo hostage with work. I should have Layla call Gage and say she needs him. Gage would fly out of the office then. Instead, I get her and Poppy on a three-way call. With Poppy out of the office and Layla busy with the baby, we are long overdue for some girl talk.
“Perfect timing,” Layla says. “It’s Greer’s last feeding of the night. I’m hoping she sleeps at least three hours straight.”
“Damn,” Poppy says. “That’s horrible.”
“I think it’s her name,” Layla says. “When we were going through baby names, Gage fell in love with the name Greer. Similar to his name, I suppose. But Greer means ‘alert’ and ‘watchful.’ I should’ve known she’d be a terrible sleeper.”
“I bet Emerson’s not getting much sleep, either,” Poppy teases. “Spill! How’s sex with Mateo?”
“Poppy, some things are sacred,” I say.
“So he’s a god?”
“Completely,” I say as we all bust out laughing.
“Oh my God,” Poppy cries out, interrupting our giggles. “I just searched the meaning of the name Mateo.”
“And?”
“You aren’t going to believe this.”
“What?”
“Mateo means ‘God’s gift!’” she squeals.
“No, it doesn’t,” I say, immediately pulling up my search engine on my phone. Holy shit, she wasn’t lying.
“You lucky bitch,” Poppy laughs.
Thank God, Greer is a slow eater. We spend the next twenty minutes laughing and catching up. Poppy fills us in on Dash, who is recovered and just waiting to be cleared to go back up in the air. She sounds happier and more content than she has in a long time, and Layla has settled into her mommy role. The three of us seem to have this kickass woman thing down pat. When we hang up, I’m counting my blessings for my beautiful friends as well the man walking through the door.
I turn to see Mateo dragging himself inside. He looks exhausted. His eyes meet mine, and he smiles. “My dad is a smart man.”
Walking to him, I wrap my hands around his neck. “You going to finally tell me what he said?”
“He asked me if you were the woman that could make me smile while my dick was still in my pants.”
“Well, am I?” I ask, laughing.
He nods. “He said that’s how you know you’re with the right woman.”
His dad might be on to something. A litmus test for relationships based on smiling with and without clothes on. I say it works both ways. Mateo makes me smile while naked and while dressed.
“I know it’s kind of late,” he says. “But what do you want to do tonight? I’d like to take you out. Maybe a late dinner?”
“Watching TV sounds good.”
He chuckles, grabbing my ass. “I think we do have a movie we need to watch.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
SEX, INTERRUPTED
Morning three, and I’m awakened by Ava’s ringtone again. Bleary eyed, I reach for my phone. I can’t deal with another round of nail polish issues or whatever. I’m going to tell her not to call me before eight unless it’s an emergency.
“Ava, honey, it’s a little early.”
“Ma’am, this is Officer . . . Are you the mother of Ava Baker?”
Hearing the words every parent fears on the other end of the line, I dart out of bed, wide-awake now and freaking the fuck out. This is the phone call no parent wants. This is the reason why I’m programmed in her phone as I.C.E, or In Case of Emergency. An officer would not be calling if she was alright.
“I’m afraid your daughter has been in an accident.”
“Oh God, tell me she’s alright!” I beg.
Mateo’s arms fly around me. I’m trembling so hard the bed is shaking. I listen for a few minutes then hand him the phone. “Please get the address.” I jump out of bed, looking for my clothes.
A few seconds later, I’m still naked in his room, pacing around, unable to function enough to even locate my clothes, much less dress myself. He sees I’m lost and grabs my arms. Somehow he’s already dressed, keys in his hand. “I gave them Ryan’s number,” he tells me. “You should call him.”
“Right, yes. Why wasn’t he with her? Did she sneak out again?”
“I don’t know,” Mateo says, pulling a shirt over my head. “I’ll call the airline to get us on a flight. Hilton Head is just an hour or so by air.”
The trembling grows worse. “If I was in Savannah, I could drive there quickly. Oh God, I’m not there. I’m here. We were . . .”
“Emerson,” he says, holding my face in his hands. “I’ll get you there quick. I promise.”
My phone rings, and I know it’s Ryan. Mateo drags me and my suitcase out the door. As I listen to Ryan, Mateo gets me out of the building, into his car, and on our way to the airport. Mateo’s on his phone with Gage, getting the corporate jet ready. It’s a complete abuse of power and company assets to use the jet right now, but I don’t give a fuck. And neither does Gage, apparently.
“I’m on my way, Ryan. I will just be about an hour.”
“Where are you?” he asks.
“I’ll be there soon. What happened?”
Ryan tells me the boys wanted donuts for breakfast, and Ava drove off to get them. He swears it was only a mile away. Other than the fact that she was hit head-on by another car, we know nothing. He’s on his way to the hospital and will call when he knows more, though I’ll probably be in the air when he does.
I won’t know how my daughter is for an hour.
* * *
“Emerson,” Mateo says as we start our descent, “how about some juice or a snack.”
I can’t even manage a simple “no.”
“Just a little?” he asks.
I pull out my phone and put my glasses on. “Maybe it will work. I need to try.”
“Baby, we’re still too high up.”
I try, but there’s no signal.
“I’m sure Ryan left you a message.”
“She’s hurt,” I sob. “And I’m not there. You want your mother when you’re hurt.”
He wraps his arm around me, and I rest my head on his shoulder. “We’ll be there soon. You’re a great mom.”
I pull away. “A great mom who was fucking her boyfriend while her daughter is in the hospital.”
Rationally, I know it didn’t happen that way. Rationally, I know I didn’t do anything neglectful, but the heart is not a rational organ.
I try my phone again—still nothing. If something really bad has happened to my daughter, I’ll never forgive myself for being so far away, for being selfish.
“Hey,” he says, “nothing you did was wrong.”
This is officially the longest hour of my life, longer than laboring to deliver my kids, longer than all those nights after Ryan left, longer than my father’s funeral. Why does that happen? Why do the minutes when we are afraid seem longer than any others? Fear is such a little word, yet it seems to last longer than any other. And right now, it seems infinite. Time is standing still. It feels like the plane isn’t moving. I know it’s going several hundred miles per hour, but it doesn’t feel like it.
I stare at my phone, willing it to come to life as we fly lower and lower. It finally dings. A voicemail from Ryan appears. It’s thirty minutes old. I listen with my hand over my mouth, my eyes closed. I feel the plane touch down, the jolt as we slow down, but the only thing I hear over and over again in my head are three words Ryan said.
Unconscious, head injury.
* * *
There’s a car waiting for us when we land. The hospital is about ten minutes from the airport. I call Ryan on the way over, but he doesn’t have any other information—except that Ava’s in stable condition. How can my daughter be “stable” if her head is injured and she’s unconscious?
Part of me is angry this happened. Part of me is scared shitless. Part of me can’t believe this is my third trip to the hospital/urgent care in the past few months. It’s absurd. If it’s not my toe, my friend getting hurt on the job, it’s my daughter. It’s ridiculous. I don’t live on the edge and consider myself a careful person. My kids constantly tell me I smother them and am over-protective.
But from what I hear from friends and family, this is part of normal family life. Some other moms I know are on a first name basis with the ER doctors, they’re in and out so much. Being a mom means any disposable income gets spent on copays and deductibles. So while this may be a normal part of life, my baby girl being hurt and not being by her side is anything but normal.
By the time I rush through the emergency room entrance, I’m about to lose my mind. I spot Ryan in the waiting area. He’s got his arms around me in a few seconds, stroking my hair as I cry into his chest. “I know,” he whispers, his voice cracking.
“Our baby girl,” I sob. “Where is she?”
“She’s back in the ER. She’s going to be . . .” Ryan stops midsentence, and I look up, his eyes zeroed in on my traveling companion and my suitcase. His eyes shift back to me, and he finishes the thought, “Alright. She’ll be alright.”
I can’t be concerned about Mateo right now. Ava is all that matters, and Ryan’s words didn’t sound too convincing. Mateo rolls the suitcase to a chair near me then gently touches my arm. “I’m going to find the cafeteria and get you something to eat.” I give him a thankful nod, then his eyes shift to Ryan. “Can I bring you anything? Coffee?” Ryan shakes his head, and Mateo disappears.
I feel the sting of Ryan’s eyes. I don’t need his judgment right now. I’m doing a good enough job of beating myself up. “I want to see Ava.”
“A nurse will come out to talk to us in a minute,” he says.
“I need to see her. Is she okay?”
“I’m waiting on an update,” he says. “They think she will be okay.”
“Will be?” I cry. “Is she okay now? Is she awake? How bad is it? Have you seen her?”
“She’s having scans, so I haven’t seen her. They haven’t told me much else.”
I pull at my hair and stifle the urge to scream a string of curse words to be heard from one end of the hospital to the other. “Where are the boys?”
“Jacob’s watching Connor at the condo,” he says. “Connor doesn’t know about this. I didn’t want to scare him.”
“Good, that’s good,” I say. “I told Gage and my mom I’d call them as soon as we heard something. They both are ready to come if . . .”
I stop speaking when I see a nurse heading for us. I try to read her face. Is it good news or bad? This is the moment before my whole life can change. For all the wishing we do for things to change—to have more, do more, travel more, learn more, be more—I’ll settle for business as usual today.
“She’s awake,” the nurse says. “She has a concussion, but the scans and tests show nothing else. She’s fine.”
Ryan and I both exhale, and then he grabs my hand as I start sobbing. The nurse goes on to say that they want to keep Ava overnight for observation, but aside from a nasty seatbelt bruise and bump on the head, things look good. The nurse says we can see her, and Ryan and I rush back into the ER.
When Ava looks over at us, she immediately starts to cry. “I’m sorry,” she says. “I’m not getting a ticket, am I?”
“Oh, baby,” I say, smothering her in my arms and laughing. Ryan comes over to embrace us both, and none of us lets go. My head tilts, Ryan’s face just inches from mine. His fingers gently line my cheek, and I know if Ava wasn’t right here, he’d try to kiss me. I’d shut that shit down, but still, I know he’d try.
A knock forces us apart. A young, hot doctor enters to check on Ava before she moves up to her room for the night. I see her blush a bright red. Like mother like daughter, checking the guy out in the emergency room. He makes small talk for a moment then gently lifts up her gown to peek at her bruise, the hot pink print of her panties showing, and I swear Ava almost dies.
I’m so thankful she’s okay, that she’s still the Ava I know and love. Ryan places his arm around my shoulder, kissing the side of my head. I turn a little and catch Mateo’s eyes, finding him standing in the doorway. He’s excellent at hiding his emotions. I don’t know what he’s feeling, but I can guess.
When the doctor walks out, Mateo knocks and peeks his head in then looks to Ava for permission to come in. Her eyes fly to her father, but Ryan offers nothing. Ava gives Mateo a little smile and waves him inside. He hands me a styrofoam box, which weighs like five pounds and I can only assume is filled to the top with food.
Mateo flashes an angry look to Ryan then plasters on a bright smile for Ava, holding out a plastic bag for her. “How are you feeling?” he asks her.
She just gives him a nod, too busy with the bag, pulling out a handful of girly magazines. “Thank you,” she says.
“I figured you and your mom would need something to keep you busy while you’re in here,” he says. “One of them is full of quizzes. My sister used to love to take those.”
“Me, too,” Ava says.
“She used to make me take them, too,” Mateo whispers through a grin, and she giggles. He gives her foot a little pat over the covers before flashing me a look to follow him into the hallway. I give Ava a little kiss and tell her I’ll be right back.
Mateo and I step into the hall, closing the door, so we’re away from Ryan’s prying eyes. “I’ll call Gage with an update,” Mateo says. “What else can I do?”
“Nothing.”
“Let me help. I can go check on Jacob and Connor.”
“Ryan would never allow that.”
“Fuck him.”
Mateo’s not the type of man to play second fiddle to another man. But he has to understand that Ryan and I have to work together, and the last thing I need is a fight with Mateo to top off this day. “He’s the father of my children.”
“And I’m what?”
He’s the man I was screwing when my daughter was hurt. Why did something so great have to turn to shit? He’s also the man I know I’m starting to really fall for. “Please,” I beg. “Ava could’ve died. Please don’t do this right now.”
He releases a deep breath, hugging me. “Then you don’t do this, either.”
“Do what?”
“Feel guilty,” he says. “I watched what guilt did to you before. One kiss and you punished yourself for years.” He pulls back to look into my eyes. “I will not be something you feel guilty about.”
“Emerson,” Ryan
says, slipping his head out the door.
“Is Ava okay?” I ask.
“She’s fine,” he says, eyeing Mateo’s hand around my waist. “I need to get the boys.”
“Okay, tell them I’m here and will take them home as soon as I can.”
“It’s my week,” Ryan says. “I still have them for a few more days.”
“I know, but with Ava in the hospital,” I say, “I just figured you’d head back to Savannah when she gets out.”
“I plan on finishing out the week here at the beach with the kids,” Ryan says.
“But I need to be close to her right now.”
“You’re welcome to stay,” he says then gives Mateo a smug smile.
“Just go deal with the boys,” I huff.
An arrogant grin on his face, Ryan struts past Mateo and down the hallway. I’m glad he’s gone. Two more seconds together, and no telling what would’ve happened. I really don’t need this macho shit right now.
“I know you aren’t leaving Ava,” Mateo says.
“I can’t.”
“You’ve met my mother. I get it,” he says, giving me a little smile before adding, “I can stay, too.”
“That’s sweet, but one of us should be at the office.”
“You and the kids are more important.”
“I need to focus on Ava. I won’t have any time to see you.”
His eyes narrow just a hair. “Because you plan on staying with Ryan and the kids at the condo?”
“Yes,” I whisper, taking his hand. “Please understand.”
“I’m supposed to be alright with you staying with Ryan?”
“I can’t deal with you being jealous right now.”
He takes a step towards me, pinning me to the wall with his eyes. He’s not even touching me, but the heat between us is so hot, they’re liable to call the burn unit. “I know the way you moan, taste, move. I meant it when I said I don’t share. I meant it when I said if I had you, I wouldn’t let you go. The moment you shared my bed is the moment I earned the right to be jealous.”
How does he make jealousy sound so hot? “You don’t need to be jealous of Ryan.”
“It’s not unheard of for exes to fuck each other after they’ve broken up.”
The Sex Bucket List Page 18