Love Rekindled (Love Surfaced)

by Michelle Lynn

  “So?” I throw myself in the other office chair, exhausted and ready to go home. “What do you want to talk about?”

  She holds her finger in the air. Her face transforms into five different reactions and feelings before she gasps. Her hand covers her heart and she sets the e-reader down on the table.

  “Man, that was a good one.”

  I nod, wanting to get this powwow started so I can get out of here.

  “Okay.” She shakes her head as though that’s going to clear whatever has taken over her thoughts.

  “Yeah.” I’m quickly losing my patience.

  “You are Emerson’s dad?” Her finger points at me again as though she’s accusing me of something I didn’t already know.

  “Yeah.” I can’t stop the smile from overtaking my face. “I am.”

  “Good. I’m glad. You seem like a good guy, but I must warn you, if you hurt her, I’ll gut you.” All five feet of her stalks over to me. “Got it?” She flashes her sternest and most intimidating look.

  I sit in the office chair, my hands in my lap. “I won’t.”

  “Okay. I’ve heard things about you, but you seem like a good guy.”

  “Thank you. I am.”

  The whole conversation is very cordial and Cami should realize she couldn’t intimidate a fly.

  “Good. I’m glad we had this talk. You may go.” She waves her hand in the air like I’m her servant, one who’s being dismissed for the day.

  I jump to my feet and she springs back. “Nice talk.” I raise my eyebrows.

  “Don’t think I don’t mean it. I have a hot temper, Ashby. You just haven’t seen it yet,” she screams out the door before it shuts.

  I get to my locker and reach for my phone. It sucks not being able to text or talk to Taylor all day. After three consecutive days with her, it’s a rough change. Seeing a text from her on my phone, my stomach stirs with excitement.

  Taylor: Dinner at six?

  Me: Why, Ms. Delaney, are you asking me to come over?

  Unsure if I’ll get an answer since she should be at work, I put it on the shelf and grab my things for a shower. My phone beeps.

  Taylor: I am. Maybe you could bring the sparkling grape juice?

  Me: I’ll pick some up along with a stop in the pharmaceutical aisle.

  Taylor: Not yet . . . patience.

  Me: You know I’m not a saint. I like what I want when I want it.

  Taylor: I know.

  Me: You don’t care that I’ve been whacking off to memories of us from two years ago every night.

  Taylor: I think it’s cute.

  Me: It’s not cute. It’s painful.

  Taylor: Soon. :) See you at six.

  Me: I’ll be there. :)

  While the warm water streams down on me in the shower, I think about Taylor and me. How will I ever get us back to where we were? I’m an inpatient person, but one thing is for sure, I’d wait forever for her. A life with her and Emerson is what I yearn for more than anything. The thought feels right, like it’s where I belong, but I can’t disregard Taylor’s apprehension.

  Fifteen minutes later, I’m walking out of the Aquatic Center and I spot a man in a suit sitting on the stool by Amanda’s desk.

  “Hey, Amanda.” I stop, leaning forward as though I’m looking over a schedule. “Who’s this?”

  The guy glances up from his phone and I see a big folder peeking out of his briefcase.

  “A Mitchel Henderson,” she whispers. “From some firm.” She slides the business card in front of me and I smile over at the guy to appease him. It works and he concentrates on his phone again.

  I check out the card and mentally process the name Grager and Grager, Inc. Business Consultant. I shake my head, because if Wes would rather pay someone to tell him how to run his business, what can I do? But a guy who is busy on Facebook or some other shit before he has to meet with you isn’t going to save your company. I think Wes is a smart enough guy to realize that, at least I hope he is.

  At the exact moment I lean back from the counter, Wes walks out of the locker room in a nice pair of slacks and a button down shirt. All of his tattoos are hidden except the few on his hands. I hate to see him portraying to be someone he’s not. If anything, it tells me he’s desperate and the Aquatic Center is in worse shape than I thought earlier today. His eyes meet mine and then zoom in on Mitchel Henderson, aka the douche who will make you lose your company faster.

  “Wes,” I call out, circling around the receptionist desk. “Can I steal you for one second?”

  Wes holds up his hand to stop me. “Not right now, Brad. I have an appointment. I’m sure this can wait until tomorrow.” He beelines it to Mitchel, not giving me the opportunity to respond.

  “Okay.” I back up and watch the two of them shuffle through the locker room doors.

  “Has he ever been here before?” I ask Amanda, and she shakes her head.

  “I’ve never seen him before.”

  “Good. That’s a good thing.”

  Taylor

  “SEE YOU, GUYS.” I WAVE to my shift replacements and walk out the hospital doors.

  My mind races with everything I need to do before Brad comes over tonight. Get the groceries for dinner and pick Em up. Clean up a little and hope maybe he’ll stay for a movie afterwards. I’m so distracted, I don’t notice Sam standing by my car until I reach the bumper.

  Dark circles line his eyes and his clothes are untucked and dirty, like he hasn’t been taking care of himself.

  “Sam.” I draw back in surprise. He leans on his truck door with his hands tucked in his pockets.

  “Taylor,” he says my name with such disdain I wonder why he’s bothered to come see me.

  “Is something going on?” I fiddle with my keys.

  “I miss you. I miss Em.”

  My heart breaks for Sam being stuck in the middle of all this.

  “I’m sorry, Sam, but for Em, I have to give this a chance. I wish there was room for both of you, but clearly neither one of you will be the bigger person.” I place my purse on my trunk since I’m guessing we’ll be here for a while.

  “He cheated on you. Got engaged to someone else. I don’t get why he can waltz into town, and bam, you love him again.” Sam approaches me and there’s hurt mixed with something else in his eyes. Oh, God, he’s still hopeful for a chance.

  “I’ve forgiven him. This is my decision, Sam. I understand you’re upset and I’ve apologized so many times for what I allowed to happen. I should have never leaned on you as much as I did. But my heart has always been with Brad. I’ve never stopped loving him, and that’s why it’s so easy for me to forgive him.” Obviously, my gentle nudges aren’t working and it’s time to be a more direct.

  He takes off his hat to thread his finger through his hair. “I don’t get how such a smart girl can make so many mistakes.”

  Now he’s stepping over the line, and I’m not going to allow him to knock me down. “You don’t have to get it, Sam. It’s none of your business.” My voice rises because I’m mentally exhausted from this conversation. “Listen, I would love for you to be a part of our lives, but as an uncle to Em. A friend to me. I’ll toe the line with Brad on the subject, if you really think you can handle being around him, because it’s all three of us, or none. You have to make that choice.” I grab my purse, swinging it over my shoulder.

  “That’s not a choice. I can’t be around you as a happy family while my life falls apart,” he argues, and I take a deep breath. “So, I’m leaving town.”

  “What? Where are you going?”

  “My uncle suffered a heart attack, so I’m going up north to manage his farm.” He stares down at the ground, kicking a loose rock with his foot. “I wanted to make sure there wasn’t a chance for us.”

  I’m happy for Sam because this is what he needs, to get out of Roosevelt and start a new life. “I think that’s actually a good thing.” I step closer, placing my hand on his arm. “You can get out of here and all the
shit that comes with this town.”

  “Well, I’d rather stay, but if I don’t have you and Em then I’m going. If April ever comes back will you contact me, I’d like to file divorce papers.”

  A tight smile crosses my lips. Sam might not see his departure as a good thing, but it is. “Of course.”

  He places his John Deere hat back on his head, straightening the bill. “I am happy for you, Tay, if Brad’s what you want. I just don’t want to see you or Em hurt.” He stands straight, signaling an end to our conversation.

  “Thank you, Sam. I can’t thank you enough for all the help you’ve given me over the years. Keep in touch, let me know the new address, I’ll send pictures of Em if you’d like.” I need this to end amicably. Sam’s friendship is important to me if he can handle not being anything more.

  “I’d like that. I’ll text you once I’m settled up there.” He steps closer, his arms awkwardly wrapping around me.

  My hands pat his back and sadness washes over me that he’s moving, but happiness quickly takes its place. He’s going where he needs to, far away from my sister.

  “Sounds good. Bye Sam.”

  “Bye Taylor.”

  I slide past him and unlock my car.

  He does the same, rounding the front of his truck to the driver’s side. As I pull away, I say goodbye to a part of my past that I’ll never forget.

  Two hours later, I’m in the kitchen, waiting for Brad to show up. Em is playing with the princess dolls he bought her and I’m preparing the casserole for dinner. The doorbell rings and Em screams.

  “Dada!”

  She runs to the door, now associating the doorbell with Brad, since he’s the only one who comes around lately. God knows my dad doesn’t show up for a visit. The only time I see him is during the holidays or when I stop by Carolle’s Tap to make sure he’s still occupying his worn-out stool.

  I open the door and there’s my knight with a fist full of flowers and a bottle of sparkling kiddie wine.

  “How are my girls?” he asks, coming into the house. Bending down, he envelops Em in a hug and kisses her cheek. “I missed you,” he whispers, and anyone could hear the honesty and heartfelt sincerity in his voice.

  “Miss you,” Em responds and grabs his hand.

  “Hold on, baby girl. Mommy needs a hug.” He lets go of our daughter’s hand and stands, wrapping his arms around my waist.

  His lips grace my neck and shivers run up my spine. “I’m always prepared just in case the mere sight of me has you stripping your clothes off,” he softly says in my ear before his hand gives my ass a concealed tight squeeze.

  I push him away, finding his usual smirk.

  “No!” Em stomps her foot and pushes at my legs. Brad and I share a look of confusion, and I’m wondering where her outburst is coming from.

  “What?” I ask her, and she stomps as she pushes me again.

  “Emerson, don’t push Mommy,” Brad disciplines, bending down to her level.

  “My Dada,” she says and crawls into his arms. Suddenly, it’s all very clear. Em doesn’t want to share her daddy, which will bring a whole new slew of problems in our world.

  “I am your Dada, but I love Mommy too,” Brad tells her, but she’s already shut down. Her arms are tight around his neck, and as much as I find this as a new obstacle, it’s cute that she’s become so attached to him.

  “Just let it go for now.” I grab the flowers and wine from his hands, and walk into the kitchen. “Dinner’s ready,” I holler over my shoulder and begin shuffling the food to the table.

  Brad walks in with her in his arms and places her in her high chair. Just like that, she’s back to her usual self, singing and tapping on her tray.

  “Food,” she says, and I pull her plate from the fridge where I had it to cool off and place it on her tray.

  “Do you need any help?” Brad asks, his eyes watching every move I make around the kitchen.

  “Nope. You can sit there and admire.”

  He leans back in his chair, his long legs stretched out in front of him. “Gladly,” he says, his eyes burning with pure lust.

  “Not too long though. You’ll be taking your little stash home with you.” I move my finger back and forth as though I’m reprimanding him, which doesn’t faze him. Not much does though.

  “So, I trained Cayden today.” He starts the conversation about our day, and I haven’t decided if I’m going to tell him about Sam waiting by my car after my shift.

  “How did you like it?” I ask, bringing our plates over to the table.

  “Looks delicious, Taylor.” He inhales the scent and closes his eyes. I’m by no means a great cook, but I’ve learned a few things over the years, especially during my little obsession with cooking shows last year. He picks up his fork. “I really liked it.” He bites his lip as though he doesn’t want to reveal how much.

  “That’s great. Do you think he’ll make the team?”

  “I don’t know. The problem is he’s slower than he should be. It’ll take work, and I wish I had a lot longer than one week, especially with Thanksgiving this week, but I’ll give it everything I have. I really want him to make it.” His eyes focus on his plate of enchilada casserole. “But, man, it was nice to feel useful. I mean, I was able to pinpoint that when his right shoulder rotated it was changing his body . . .”

  Brad continues and his excitement over his day thrills me. I don’t like hearing how he usually doesn’t feel useful, but I’m going to keep it my secret that he’s starting to find his place—where he needs to be in life and a second love after competing. I sit there enthralled in a conversation I know nothing about. Cayden’s arm and his knocking only milliseconds off his time, but Brad’s sparkling eyes are what I’m enamored with.

  “I just hope he makes it.” He releases a breath after talking for minutes straight.

  I place my hand on his and he looks up at me. “I know. Just take it one day at a time.”

  “Yeah.” He dishes up a fork full and tastes my meal. “Amazing.” Then he shovels another bite into his mouth. I watch Em do the same thing, busy with her fork and plate, picking up the kernels of corn one at a time.

  “What else?”

  He swallows a bite and places his fork down. “I wanted to ask you, how long have you known Wes?”

  “From high school.”

  “And Cami?”

  “She was my sister’s best friend, so most of my life.”

  “She cornered me today and tried to intimidate me if I hurt you.” He rolls his eyes and I laugh.

  “She didn’t?”

  “She did. But I assured her I won’t hurt either of you.” He looks over at Em and my heart swells a little more.

  “I know.”

  “But I think the business is struggling.”

  “No, really?” That would be horrible. I don’t know where Wes got the money to open Creadle’s Aquatic after he came home from college, but it’s been a success.

  “How stubborn of a guy is he?”

  I purse my lips, thinking. Truth is, I don’t know Wes that well other than the date we went on and his fights with Cami. “Stubborn.” I remember him and Cami fighting over my sister once. Or the time they broke up. “But I think he comes around after a while. Why?”

  “I told him I’d help him by looking through some things for the business, but there was a consultant there when I left. I’m worried for him, but I’m not going to butt my nose where it doesn’t belong.”

  I forgot how kindhearted Brad is. A lot of people only see a cocky, arrogant guy, who goes after whatever he wants with the same fierce competitiveness he used against his opponents in the water. But deep down, he cares. I witnessed him buying a meal for a homeless man on campus on more than one occasion. I waited for him on the bench in the pool house while he helped his teammates with a hiccup after practice.

  He practically ran the fundraising for the swim team, but I guess those things can be clouded when the same person spouts off his mouth and
starts fights for no reason at all sometimes. After graduation, I can imagine the people who knew him best even doubted him.

  “You’re so sweet,” I say, sipping my Diet Coke.

  “Don’t tell anyone.” He rolls those heart-melting eyes.

  “Never, I don’t want any competition,” I joke back, liking this dynamic between us.

  “Ah, baby, there’s no competition.” He leans over with his lips puckered at me.

  I glance to Em and quickly lean in and give him a chaste kiss.

  “Too short.”

  “Later,” I mumble, forking my food.

  “I’m holding you to that.”

  We walk down the stairs with an exhausted Em fast asleep in her crib. My feet touch the cold tile floor and two warm arms surround me. He draws me back to his chest, his mouth already at the nape of my neck. After sliding my hair to the side to give him better access to my skin, his hands venture up my ribcage.

  There’s nothing better than when the one you love can’t wait a second more to have you. I twist in his arms, and his strong hands descend to grip my ass.

  “Mr. Ashby, you need to calm down.” I step backward toward the couch with him chest to chest with me. Unable to keep the pace he’s dictating for us, I fall to the couch and he doesn’t stop until he’s lying on top of me. “No movie tonight?” I smile and he shakes his head.

  His brown eyes burn with so much desire, I fear I can’t put out the fire in them, especially since I’m not ready to sleep with him yet as our daughter sleeps upstairs. God, he makes it hard though. His lips linger over my collarbone and his magical hands touch every inch of me except where I need him to, and that only fuels my body to a frenzy of uncontrolled need.

  “We should stop.” My voice breaks because I’m already panting and he hasn’t even kissed me yet.

  “Nuh-uh.” He slides down the length of my body, his fingers grazing past the cups of my bra. I suck in another breath.

  “Uh-huh,” I say, my fingers digging deep into the dark strands of his hair.

  He lifts his head from between my legs, his right hand covering my jean-clad center. “One of us is coming tonight.” He flicks the button of my jeans and my breath catches in my throat.