Luckily, this time I was more prepared, and was able to fill her backpack with juice boxes, coloring books, picture books, and some more DVDs to entertain her for the three or so hours she would have to spend entertaining herself.
That afternoon, as I came out for Trig’s daily session, I found him sitting on the floor in the waiting room with Zoe, dwarfing my daughter like a giant.
Clutched in her hands was a stuffed animal I didn’t remember packing.
“Mommeeee!” she cried, running toward me. “It’s Toothless!”
“So it is,” I said in confusion as she thrust the plush dragon at me.
“Trig got it for me,” she said proudly, pointing at him.
I opened my mouth to admonish him, but he gave me a disarming grin that sent a warm electric jolt through me.
“Hey, she knows my name now,” he smirked, winking at me. “Progress.”
It was on the tip of my tongue to say I didn’t consider my daughter knowing him progress, but I stopped myself. After all, he had been thoughtful enough to bring her a gift, even though I wished he hadn’t.
“Thank you for the thoughtful gift,” I said, trying to keep my tone neutral. “Zoe, thank Trig for the gift.”
“THANK YOU!” she yelled, running back and throwing her arms around him.
“You’re welcome, buttercup,” he replied. Looking up at me, he said, “She did already thank me, by the way. She was very polite.”
“Mommy, Trig is gonna come over to our house and watch How to Train Your Dragon with me!” Zoe cried with delight. “He said so!”
“What?!” I said in disbelief. I narrowed my eyes at him. “Is that true?”
He opened his mouth to reply, but Zoe interrupted. “Yes! And we’re gonna watch How to Train Your Dragon 2, too! I even like that one better!” She was beaming with excitement.
“Zoe,” I admonished. “Trig isn’t going to be coming over to watch movies with you. I’m sorry. But he has other things to do.”
“No, he doesn’t!” Zoe cried. She looked at him pleadingly. “Do you? You’re coming over, right?”
Trig looked up at me helplessly.
“Honey,” I began as I bent down to pick her up. I tried to detach her from Trig’s neck, but she clung to him. “Honey, come here.”
Reluctantly, she allowed herself to be peeled away from him.
“We can’t always get everything we want,” I murmured as she looked at me with eyes that were about to spill over with frustrated tears. “Mr. Jackson doesn’t have time to watch cartoons with you.”
“But why?” she wailed. Her lip trembled and tears began to spill down her cheeks. “Why can’t he? He could watch with Toothless and me!”
I pulled her to me and she started to cry, burying her face in my neck.
“Eva,” Trig said softly as she sobbed. “Look. I…” he glanced at her. “I didn’t tell her I was coming over. But I can. If you want. I really don’t mind.”
“No.” I shook my head. “It’s not a good idea. I can’t mix my professional and personal lives. I know Zoe’s not happy about it, but…” I trailed off. I didn’t want to say more with her right there.
“Look, Eva, it’s okay,” he said quietly. “I know it doesn’t mean anything.”
“You can’t possibly want to spend an evening watching dragon movies.” I couldn’t imagine a man like Trig spending the evening with a five year-old.
He shrugged and grinned. “Why not? It beats some of the evenings I’ve had lately with this bum leg.”
Zoe lifted her head from my neck and looked at me. “Please, Mommy? Please please please please please?”
Good God. What was I about to do?
I closed my eyes and shook my head. “Okay,” I said reluctantly.
“YAYYYYY!!!” Zoe screamed.
Right into my ear.
Zoe made me promise three times that I wouldn’t change my mind, and then I sat her back down to play and took Trig back for his therapy session.
“I’m sorry,” I shook my head as we began. “It’s just, I think she really misses her dad. Or at least, the idea of her dad.” I huffed sarcastically. “The reality of her dad isn’t all that worth missing, unfortunately.”
“I get it,” he nodded. “My dad wasn’t around when I was a kid, either. It’s not always easy.”
“I didn’t know that,” I said softly. My mind wandered unbidden back to high school, and I found myself thinking about how I had just been starting to get to know him when…
Abruptly, I shook my head. “Okay. Today, we’re going to see whether you’re ready for some gravity-resistant exercises. First, though, let’s do warm-ups to ease you into it. How’s the numbness been?”
I listened with half an ear to him telling me how his pain levels were, how his numbness came and went, and how he was starting to feel steadier on his left knee. I could barely focus as he spoke. This man, who had hurt me more than anyone else ever had, was beginning to inch his way into my life in a way I should have been fighting with all my might.
I wished he’d never met my daughter, wished to hell that I hadn’t had to bring her into the clinic two days in a row. I wished that I’d been able to tell her no and make it stick when she begged to have Trig over.
But more than anything, I wished I could lie to myself about the fact that a tiny, tiny part of me was looking forward to it.
At the end of the session, Trig was fairly sore from some of the new resistance exercises I had put him through. I had him lay back as I massaged the fatigue out of his muscles, beginning with the large muscles of the thigh. As I massaged close to the wound site, a low groan rumbled from deep in his throat.
“Am I hurting you?” I asked, pulling back.
“No…” he groaned. “Not really. Feels mostly good.”
I continued to work on him, suddenly aware of the warmth of the body heat emanating from his skin. My touch softened slightly as I tried to concentrate on my work.
In the quiet of the room, I heard his breathing begin to speed up slightly. A swelling in the area of his groin told me the reason.
Suddenly, it felt as though the temperature in the room had risen by five degrees. It wasn’t the first time in my career that a man had had a physical reaction to a massage. But this was different. This wasn’t simply a physical phenomenon that was easily explained away. This was something more.
The air grew electric around us. I could feel my own breathing becoming shallow, my lips parting slightly as heat pooled between my legs. The contact of my hands on his thigh took on a charge that I could tell we both felt. My nipples hardened; I shifted slightly as an uncomfortable ache began between my lower lips.
“Okay,” I whispered, my voice cracking slightly. “I think we’re done here.”
I removed my hands from his leg and swallowed painfully. I should have continued the massage down his calf, but frankly, I wasn’t sure I could contain myself much longer.
My face flamed red as I forced myself to look at him. Hot, burning coals bored into me, making my nipples even tighter. He seemed to see right through me, to read everything I wanted to conceal from him. Between my legs, I grew wet, soaking my panties instantly.
“Eva,” he breathed, his voice thick. “I’m not sure we’re done, at all.”
13
Trig
Do you have any idea how hard it is to find a goddamn stuffed dragon?
I had spent the entire day before my PT appointment driving around to every toy store in the area, feeling like a jackass, but I was on a mission and would not be denied.
Finally, I found one at a Toys ‘r’ Us a couple of towns over. I had just enough time to buy it and get back for PT with about five minutes to spare.
I had expected to just give the dragon to Eva to give to Zoe, but as soon as I walked into the clinic, the little kid barreled into me like she hadn’t seen me in years. I didn’t quite manage to get my bum leg out of the way, so it was pretty painful, but I don’t think she notice
d.
You probably wouldn’t believe me if I told you I didn’t have any ulterior motive for buying a toy for Zoe, but I swear I didn’t do it to try to get into Eva’s pants. I dunno what it was, exactly. Most of the time, I could take kids or leave them, and mostly, I left them.
But Zoe was pretty cute, even if she was a rambunctious little thing. And she reminded me so much of her mom, I couldn’t help but be charmed by her.
So, when Eva told me Zoe’s dad was pretty much out of the picture, something kind of shifted in me. I sure as hell wasn’t the “dad” type myself, but I just sort of wanted to do something nice for the kid.
The fact that it ended up scoring me an evening with Eva?
Icing on the cake.
It turned out she lived in the same house she had grown up in, a fact that surprised me. When she gave me the address, her eyes flicked up at me momentarily, as if daring me to comment on it. But I just nodded and asked if I could bring anything.
I showed up the next night with a six pack of better-quality beer than I usually buy, and a bouquet of daisies I’d picked up from a florist along the way. When I rang the doorbell, the thumping of Zoe’s feet running down the hall greeted me.
“Hi, Trig!” she exclaimed, and pushed open the screen door to let me in. She was already in her pajamas, and just from following behind her I could smell the scent of baby shampoo that told me she had just had a bath.
“This way!” she called, beating a path into what turned out to be the kitchen.
Eva was standing at the center island, chopping vegetables, and she looked up at me with a nervous smile.
“Hi,” she said softly.
She was wearing a simple blue sundress that hugged her shapely hips and brought out the color of her eyes. Her hair was tied back in a loose knot, revealing the soft, slightly flushed skin of her neck.
I wanted to kiss her there. I wanted to feel her pulse point under my lips. My dick jumped in response at the thought, and I moved a little closer to the island for camouflage.
“Hey,” I smiled casually. “What’s for dinner? Smells good already.”
She glanced toward the oven. “I thought I’d keep it simple, to something Zoe would eat with no fuss. So I’m making spaghetti, salad, and garlic bread. You’re smelling the garlic bread.”
“Sounds great.” I held up the flowers. “These are for you.”
“Oh…” her eyes widened. “Trig…”
“It’s not a big deal,” I interrupted her. “It’s just to thank you for making dinner for me. It’s not all that often I get a home-cooked meal.”
She wiped her hands on a towel and moved around the island to take them. Her mouth curved up into a slight smile. “I love daisies.”
“They kind of look like you,” I said as I handed them to her. “Fresh. Beautiful, without needing a lot of fanfare.”
She looked up at me, startled.
“Sorry,” I murmured. “Just slipped out.” Shit. I should probably tone it down a notch.
Reddening, she reached up into a cabinet and took down a vase. “I’ll just get some water.”
I held up the six pack of beer in my other hand. “I brought these, too. Didn’t know if you liked beer.”
She seemed relieved to change the subject. “Yes, beer will be perfect with the spaghetti. Oh!” she exclaimed suddenly, looking down at my leg. “You’re not using your cane!”
“I left it in the truck.” I nodded vaguely toward the front door. “Figured I could make it this far. Besides, I didn’t have enough hands to carry it.”
She frowned. “You need to be careful… How does it feel?”
I shrugged. I didn’t really want to talk about it. “Okay.” I was still limping pretty bad, and some of the numbness was still there. My foot didn’t seem to be doing too good a job of taking signals from my brain. If it didn’t get much better, I might manage to walk without a cane sometimes, but I still wouldn’t be able to ride.
Eva seemed to sense I wasn’t willing to say more. She nodded. “Okay, tonight I’m not your PT. No shop talk. But at your next appointment we’re going to have this conversation. Got it?”
I grimaced. “Do we have to?”
“Do you want to get better?”
My stomach lurched. She had no idea. I lay awake at night, staring up at the ceiling, trying not to contemplate the unthinkable.
But instead of telling her that, I merely grunted. “Hey, whatever happens, happens.”
She looked at me skeptically. “I don’t believe that for a minute, Trig. I know you’re dying to get back on a motorcycle again. I can see it in your eyes.”
I pulled a bottle out of the six pack and twisted it open. “I thought you said no shop talk tonight.”
She sighed. “Okay. For now.”
Zoe was dying to show me her room, so I let her pull me in that direction for a few minutes while her mom kept working on dinner.
I noticed it was just the two of them, with no sign of Eva’s mom around. The house seemed like it probably hadn’t changed much since we were in high school, though. The furniture looked like it was all from that era, all overstuffed and over-decorated. None of it really seemed to mesh with what I would imagine Eva’s tastes would be.
Zoe’s room was completely different from the rest of the house, though. It was all done up in pinks, greens, and yellows, with a small, white four-poster bed and mounds of stuffed animals and dolls lining a large bookshelf.
“Look! This is where my animals sleep,” she showed me proudly, introducing me to each one by name. “But Toothless sleeps with me.” And sure enough, there he was enjoying pride of place in the center of her bed, propped up on a pillow. She leapt onto it and grabbed the dragon, squeezing him tightly in her arms.
“Come on!” she squealed. “Let’s go watch the movie!”
I let myself be dragged back downstairs into the living room, where Zoe had already gotten out the DVD. I watched her busily put it into the player and work the controls. I risked a glance over at Eva, who was watching the two of us. She silently mouthed, “I’m sorry!”
I chuckled and gave her a thumbs up, then settled back into an overstuffed couch with my beer.
Zoe chattered happily away at me as we watched, explaining who all the characters were and telling me what they were going to do before they did it.
Eventually, she settled in next to me and quieted down as she got drawn into the story. Toothless sat between us, watching his namesake on the screen.
When Zoe was good and absorbed in the movie, I stood up and meandered over to Eva.
“Sorry I’m not helping with preparation,” I apologized. “Is there something I can do?”
She smiled. “You’re doing enough by keeping Zoe occupied. Normally dinner prep takes me twice as long.” She glanced over at her daughter. “Thanks for being so patient with her.”
“It’s no problem. She really is a good kid.”
“I think so.” She gazed over at the couch with such obvious love, I couldn’t help but think that Zoe wasn’t missing anything at all in her life, even without a dad.
Eva handed me some plates and silverware and had me set the table, then called Zoe to stop the movie and come eat. The three of us munched companionably, with Zoe telling me all about who her best friends were at pre-K and which ones would be with her in kindergarten in the fall.
After dinner, Eva told Zoe she could watch half an hour more of the movie, while the two of us chatted quietly in the kitchen. When Zoe’s bedtime came, Eva took her upstairs to read her a story, and I cracked another beer and started on cleanup and dishes.
I was just finishing up when she emerged from Zoe’s room, closing the door behind her. “She’s still pretty wired from having you here,” Eva said in a low voice, “But I said she could read another story to herself if she stayed in her room. I told her that if she started the old ‘I’m thirsty’ game, you wouldn’t come back anymore.”
I looked at her. “I get to come back?�
�� I asked with a sly grin.
“It was just a ploy to get her to stay in bed,” she said primly, but a flush in her cheeks told me I might have a shot.
We sat down on the couch together, and Eva clicked the muted TV off and put on some soft music.
“Romantic,” I remarked.
“Don’t push it,” she warned.
I held up my hands in surrender. “Sorry.”
She seemed to relax a little. “Thanks again for being so good to Zoe.”
“Eva,” I stopped her. “Stop thanking me. She’s a cute kid. It’s no problem.”
She sighed. “I’m sorry. I just know a lot of men are bothered by women who have children.” Her eyes widened in alarm. “I mean, I’m not saying we… I mean…”
I laughed. “I get it.” Glancing around the room, I hesitated, then decided to throw caution to the wind. “So. You live here now.”
For a moment, she didn’t move or say anything, and I thought I had seriously fucked up. Finally, she spoke. “Yes. For almost two years now. My mom…” she reddened, “got sick. I came back from Seattle to take care of her until she died last year. We still haven’t decided what we’re going to do next.”
“I’m sorry,” I murmured. “So. You did end up going to University of Washington, then.”
She nodded. “I did. I got my degree in physical therapy from there. I stayed in Seattle after graduation. Got a job. Got married. Had Zoe. Got divorced.” She looked at me wryly. “Then mom got sick, and here I am. Just like the last ten years never happened.”
“They happened.” I nodded toward the stairs. “She’s proof. Plus, you don’t wear glasses anymore.”
She laughed. “Lasik.”
“And,” I continued, “you’re even more beautiful now. More self-assured.”
She shifted uncomfortably. “Trig…”
“Eva.” I reached a hand toward her cheek and, as gently as I could, stroked the line of her jaw with my thumb. “I know there’s an uncomfortable past between us. I’m sorry. But we’ve both changed.” I chuckled softly as I looked down at my leg. “In my case, maybe not for the better. But we’re not eighteen anymore.”
RIDE (A Stone Kings Motorcycle Club Romance) Page 9