Fresh Meet
Page 8
“Your answer sounded like she’s been hounding you about bringing a date.”
“Not just any date.” I grind my teeth so hard the words barely make it out of my mouth.
“What?”
Before I have a chance to repeat my sentence, he tugs at the pillow. Not hard enough to make it fly off my face, just enough for me to lock gazes with him. He leans over the pillow to get a better look at me, suddenly very close, and holy moly.
Those eyes.
Those beautiful blue eyes.
This isn’t the first time I find it ironic that he’s a swimmer and his eyes are the exact blue that most people associate with swimming pools.
They’re so vibrant, the light touch of turquoise making me want to lean closer to get an even better look. They’re also the same eyes I get to look into almost every day when I’m with his boy.
“Much better.” The corners of his eyes lift when he grins. “Now what did you say about your mom and dates?”
My mood deflates quicker than a popped balloon. “I don’t think you want to know.”
“Try me.” He grabs my ankles and lifts my legs enough to sit properly on the couch, with my calves across his thighs.
I gulp, for so many reasons.
His body heat seeps through my clothes.
Why is this man so hot? Literally and figuratively.
I swallow, trying my best to look completely and utterly unaffected and inconspicuous.
Or maybe I just look constipated. That’s always a possibility. My mom actually said that to me once, and now it’s ingrained in my brain for all eternity.
I sigh. “My family meets once a month for a mandatory dinner. It’s always the first Sunday of the month, and we’re all required to attend. Well, all as in my sister and I. Partners and children included. Usually, at least one of my dad’s business partners attends too since my parents like to show we’re a tight family. They think it will help with my dad’s investment company.”
The words pop out of my mouth at an alarming speed, and I’m quite terrified I admitted all of that out loud.
When I glance at Jace, his eyebrows are raised. “Wow.”
“Pretty much.” I pull the pillow back over my face, just to have it taken away five seconds later.
“I’m not sure what to say, to be honest.”
I blindly wave a hand around in his general direction. “You don’t have to say anything. They’re crazy. I don’t even know why I bother.”
“They’re you’re family.” The way he says it, it’s a statement. A fact. “So . . . your mom isn’t happy when you arrive alone?”
“Not really. Sometimes she invites someone as my date. I’m not even sure where she finds these guys. There’s always some business association.” I think about it for a moment before shooting up into a sitting position. “Maybe she blackmails them. Poor fellas need to sit next to me for a few hours to be able to survive another day at the company.”
Jace chuckles and gives my shoulder a gentle nudge. I fall back on the soft cushion, ready to wallow some more.
Usually, I give myself half an hour after these phone calls with my mom. They stress me out, and I ask myself for most of those thirty minutes why I was born into this specific family instead of one that actually loves me for who I am. Most days, I don’t even think they like me.
“I could go with you.” Jace’s voice is so soft and quiet that it takes a moment for his words to penetrate my brain.
“What?” I sit up again, almost knocking into him, my reply coming out in a screech. “Why on earth would you willingly do something like that after everything I just told you?”
“Because I want to help.” He shrugs as much as he can in his position. “And because I owe you.”
My eyebrows furrow as I stare at him. “No, you don’t.”
“I do.”
What on earth is he talking about?
“Why would you think that?”
“You helped me with Tanner.”
I move around so I can sit normal, next to him, biting my lip to keep from wincing—or moaning—when my leg brushes along Jace’s hand for a nanosecond. Totally accidentally, of course.
When I feel like I’ve got my composure back, I turn his way again. “Jace, you don’t owe me a thing. I would never expect anything in return for helping you, least of all when it’s related to Tanner.”
“I know.” His gaze is alert, his jaw set.
It’s the same look I’ve seen on him plenty of times over the last two weeks when he leaves for his training. It’s like a mask, a mental preparation for whatever battle is coming his way, even if it’s against himself.
He turns so he’s facing me as well, our legs touching in several places. “Unless you want to take the guy you saw the other night.”
“Huh?”
“Didn’t you say you had a meeting on Sunday?”
Did I say that? Dang it. “I . . . I did.” Goodness, I sound like one smart cookie today.
“Since it was Sunday, and you were acting a bit odd, I thought it was code for date.”
Sunday. The day he saw me naked. The day that I’ve been trying really hard to erase from my memory, at least that part of it.
I brush my hand along my chin, avoiding his gaze. Crap. Why did I mention that? I don’t have any recollection about saying anything about my meeting. And of course, I was acting weird. I can barely tell my boss that I’m meeting with some tech guy who could help me with my project. The same project I hope to present if I get an invitation to audition for my dream job.
Would he fire me if he knew?
This is not good. I really like this job, I like him and Tanner, and don’t want him to fire me.
I give him a smile I hope screams honesty and shake my head. “Nope, no date. I really was meeting up with someone who’s going to help me with a music project I’ve been working on.”
There, that’s the truth.
The baby monitor turns on with Tanner’s babbling.
“Well, maybe you can tell me more about that during our family dinner date. I’ll ask my mom to babysit Sunday.” Jace takes the baby monitor and stands up before I can get in a word. “I’m glad that’s settled. I’ll get Tanner.”
With my mouth slightly open, I stare after Jace. What the hell just happened?
How on earth did I end up with a date for my family’s Sunday dinner? With my boss, of all people.
I do not have a good feeling about this at all.
It’s actually so bad that I’m not sure what’s worse. The fact that my boss saw me naked, or the fact that my boss is going to be my pity date to appease my mother.
Maybe it would be better to turn up alone, after all.
Ten
Jace
This week has been busier than usual, and when I park the car in front of my house on Saturday night, I’m beyond exhausted. It’s just after six, and I’m ready to pass out after my grueling afternoon training session in the pool.
Lately, my sessions have been more straining even though we haven’t changed anything. Coach has been giving me the side-eye all week for my poor performances.
But I know what's causing it. This fatigue.
My new life as a dad.
Without Emilia or my mom I wouldn’t function at all. Thank goodness, for their help and constant advice. I think I called my mom about three hundred times the first few days alone. She stayed with me that first weekend, but then she had to go back to work too.
She’s an English professor at Hawkins University, which she loves. She’s never said anything but I think she’s lonely, and the long hours fill that void.
But she stops by whenever she can to see Tanner, either with Emilia or me. Tanner loves it when his grandma stops by for a visit, no matter how short they are.
I don’t want her to overdo it either. It’s bad enough if one of us is exhausted.
As it is, it’s been a lot more taxing on my body than I thought it would be. Missing naps and ha
ving to get up in the middle of the night when Tanner isn’t feeling well or has a nightmare has taken its toll.
Nationals are coming up next month, and I need to get my head back in the game before my times plummet. Coach would have my ass if I dropped out this late.
When I step into the house, I pause, savoring the lavender scent permeating the air.
Emilia.
She loves that stuff and diffuses it whenever she has the chance to. I'm pretty sure she's stashed it away in some secret spots too because it always smells like it now, no matter if she’s here or not. At least I’m used to it after coming home to it for almost three weeks now.
Maybe I'm even looking forward to it, not that I’d openly admit to it.
Another thing I’ve been anticipating is getting to know her better. After everything that happened this last week—especially the ER visit, and the revelation about her parents and my subsequent demand to accompany her—I've been curious about her.
I’m still not sure what I was thinking, offering my company, but the strong surge of protectiveness that ran through me was impossible to ignore. I wanted to make sure her family treated her the way she should be treated. From the bits and pieces I heard of their phone conversation, that might not be the case.
Which doesn’t make any sense.
Yes, I had my reservations about her at first, but my opinion changed quickly after spending some time with her. It’s undeniable that there’s a fascinating woman under the crazy exterior.
Maybe I shouldn’t care about her private life. Maybe this is overstepping my employer-employee boundary, but I feel like we might have crossed that line when we started spending time together outside of her working hours.
This week, I started asking her questions every night. If I’m going to chaperone her to her parents, I should know her better.
“Is that Daddy?” Emilia’s soft voice carries through the house, and not a second later, Tanner sprints around the corner to stop in front of me.
With his hands behind his back, he looks at me from beneath his eyelashes, swaying back and forth.
He’s been with me for almost a month, but we still have our awkward moments.
Moments where he pushes me away, or acts all shy like he isn’t sure if I like or want him.
Those are usually the times where I feel like someone jammed a fist into my chest and sucker-punched me.
Things have definitely gotten better since Emilia’s been around. She’s our glue, the missing ingredient that helps us stick together in a way I’m not sure we’d fit without her, at least not at this point.
“Hey, buddy.” I drop my duffel bag, crouch down, and open my arms. “Can Daddy have a hug?”
It’s still weird to be called or call myself Daddy, but it’s my new reality, and I’m slowly getting used to it.
Tanner shuffles forward, putting his hands around my neck. When I close my arms around his small body and gently pat his back, he mimics me, patting my back too.
“He started doing that today. It’s adorable.” Emilia’s leaning against the wall, her hands crossed under her chest.
Don't look at her boobs.
I focus on her face. Hard. Her beautiful face and the way her relaxed posture softens her look. It also makes it seem like she’s comfortable here, which . . . pleases me.
Tanner squirms in my arms, and after one more squeeze, I put him down. Instead of running off, he grabs my hand and pulls.
I stare at his mop of brown waves. “Where are we going?”
Still holding my hand, he turns around and puts the fingers of his other hand together with his thumb to tap his mouth.
“Ooooh. Are we going to eat?” I repeat his gesture but also say the word, just like Emilia does it. Repetition and more repetition, hoping it pays off eventually. We saw the pediatrician who wasn’t too concerned and thinks he’ll catch up, and if there isn’t any progress by his birthday, we’ll re-evaluate.
Tanner nods and says something but it’s not an actual word. His big eyes are expectant and proud as he gazes up at me, like he actually just said the right thing.
This kid.
“All right. Let’s get some food. Daddy is super hungry.” I rub my belly for emphasis before I stop. “On second thought, maybe I’ll need a snack first.”
Without warning, I snatch Tanner around the waist and pull him up to me, pretending to eat him. His neck, chubby cheeks, belly, and whatever else I can reach.
He flops around, his giggles filling the room. It’s music to my ears and not like anything I ever expected it to feel like. The deep satisfaction that comes from seeing him happy makes me feel weightless and . . . content.
It’s incomparable to anything else I’ve ever experienced. It’s almost like there was a place in my heart that was untouched until he entered my life, a spot that was reserved for him alone.
Tanner keeps pulling on the back of my neck, trying to pull my face back to his belly, wanting to be tickled more.
Once we’re both out of breath, and Tanner’s face is red from laughing, we make our way to the kitchen. When I put him on the floor and look back up, Emilia’s watching us with a gigantic smile on her face.
I soak up the elation she radiates because I can’t help myself. It’s like a drug.
She’s addictive, and no matter if I think it might be better to keep this a normal boss-employee relationship, I can’t deny that she’s getting under my skin. Her company, her role in my life, has added something that wasn’t there before.
I enjoy having her around. I enjoy our conversations and spending time together, no matter if we watch a movie or sit on the floor and build blocks with Tanner.
It’s easy, effortless, and so contrary to any of my previous interactions with women that mostly seemed like work. Even though that might have mainly been my fault for picking the wrong dates.
Tanner runs to Emilia and she scoops him up. They bounce to the dining room table where she gives him a coloring book and crayons after securing him in his seat. It all looks so natural, as if it’s been this way for years. Yet, it’s only been weeks. Hard to believe that a month ago, there were no highchairs, no building blocks, no sippy cups or bowls with sucking things on the bottom. Surreal.
When she joins me in the kitchen, I can’t help but notice the lingering smile on her face. Those pink lips turned up at the corners. They look absolutely del—
“Jace?”
“Huh?”
Emilia pokes my upper arm and laughs. “You zoned out. Are you tired?”
Man, she almost caught me staring at her lips, or maybe she did. I’m sure I looked like I'm starving and she’s the most delectable piece of food I’ve seen in decades. Which pretty much sounds like how I feel.
What is going on all of a sudden?
This must be my tired brain playing tricks on me. Right?
Since she’s still waiting for an answer, I try to focus on her eyes and forget about those delicious-looking lips.
“Yeah, I’m spent. It’s been a long week.” I rub my hand over my eyes, my eyelids feeling like they’re loaded with fifty-pound weights.
After studying me, her eyebrows draw together. “Are you sure you want to go to dinner with me tomorrow? It’s totally okay if you change your mind and don’t want to go. You deserve a day off. You should be relaxing instead of wasting it on me and my dramatic family.”
I stand straighter at her question. “Nope. Definitely going.”
“Okay.”
“I’ll make sure to relax too, no worries. I was thinking of taking Tanner to the Bay Trail in the morning for a walk. You think he’s going to like it there?”
Her eyes light up. “He’s going to love it. I wanted to take him last week, but then he got sick. He’s going to be excited to get outside and run around, even if it’s just a trail. It’s such a beautiful spot with the whole bay in the background.”
Doubts infiltrate my mind like so often lately. Should I ask her or just figure it out on
my own? Ah, screw this. “Is it best to go in the morning? During the time I usually have training?”
Emilia’s gaze softens as she nods. “Yes, that would probably be easiest for both of you. That way you can be back by ten or eleven and feed him before his nap.”
Her statement is so simple, but emotions tighten my throat. I shouldn't have to ask her simple questions like this. He’s my son, for crying out loud. I should know everything there is to know about him. My mouth feels dry. “You could come with us?”
We stare at each other, my words hanging in the air between us. Why did I ask her that? I hope she doesn’t feel like she has to because I’m her boss, invading on her Sunday for a second time in a row.
I rub my shoulder, willing the awkwardness away. “You don’t have to of course. I shouldn’t have—”
“I’d love to.” The words rush out of her mouth at the same time mine do, and we grin like the awkward duo we are.
We’re snatched out of our bubble when Tanner lets out a whine and starts throwing his crayons.
“No, Tanner. We don’t throw crayons.” Emilia’s voice is stern as she grabs his pasta bowl from the counter and walks to him.
But not before looking over her shoulder and shooting me another grin.
I jump into action, getting my meal out of the fridge and popping it into the microwave. Emilia comes back and rummages around, getting her own pasta. Her hair is pulled back into a high ponytail, her shirt extra wide and hanging halfway off one shoulder.
I don’t think I’ve ever seen her neck exposed like that. Her porcelain skin looks soft and creamy, a few freckles splattered across her collarbone and shoulders.
Where else might she have freckles? Is her whole body covered in them?
When we're both seated at the table, she looks up at me. "No burning question for me today?"
Oh I have a few . . .
She winks, and I'm momentarily frozen. Is she trying to flirt with me, or am I that out of it that I read something into this that isn't there?
“Oh, I do. Are you ready?” She nods, and if my assumption is correct, she’s enjoying this as much as I do. “What’s the worst job you could have?”