by Kristi Rose
“Sure.” I get him a glass and collect mine, pouring us both a healthy amount. My hand trembles and I think of the awkwardness that Paisley mentioned.
“Did you not eat pizza?” I ask, avoiding what I really need to say.
“Ah...see, here’s the thing,” he says, stopping what he’s doing. “I’ve run out of meals to make and we’re reduced to take out. Cordie can be picky so I’ve been getting pizza.”
I picture his daughter eating my beans and bagel and the word that comes to mind is not picky.
I roll my eyes, which gets a chuckle from him. “You mean you’re unimaginative.”
“That too. My mom used to do all the cooking. Something I took for granted.” He shakes his head. “We’re so sick of pizza; Cordie barely touched it tonight. But I can’t keep feeding her mac and cheese and salami. This used to be a lot easier when my mother did it.” I do like a man who can poke fun at himself.
“You could hire someone.” Another fantasy I have. A full-time chef.
He shakes his head. “This is the first time we’ve lived without my parents and I had these great ideas of Cordie and I really bonding. Part of that being cooking together. I thought all kids liked to be chefs.”
“Do they?” I hadn’t.
“Apparently not. Or mine is broken.” He stabs at the food in the little bucket. “Not that I’m much of one myself.”
While he works on my computer and my food, I go into the kitchen and set about preparing my favorite meal of eggs, beans, and a bagel. “Call your daughter and tell her I’m making beans and bagels if she wants some.” If he’s this hungry, surely Cordie is as well.
His look is puzzled but he does as I request and, after ending his call, says, “She’ll be here in a minute. I’m not sure she’ll eat it.”
“She will.”
I move to the table. Now is the perfect time to say what I need to say. Yes, I recognize that I’m being a coward using Cordie as a buffer.
“Stacy,” I say and wait for him to look at me.
“Yeah?” He’s focused on the papers.
“About our night at Josie’s wedding.” That gets his attention. Both the fork and paper are suspended in air.
“Yeah?” He sounds a little strangled.
“Oh Lord, I’m not pregnant or anything,” I say, knowing I accidentally set it up like that. Not that I would know something like that in five days but still.
“Okay,” he says and gets back to business.
“About that night,” I say again.
He raises a brow, apparently his way of asking me to continue.
“I don’t want there to be awkwardness between us—”
“So long as we are both under the same impression of the terms, I imagine there isn’t really a margin of error for awkwardness.” He holds the fork midair.
Why am I surprised this is going easier than I anticipated?
“That being said, these things are managed better when the parties involved don’t see each other on a regular basis.” I avoid using the word couple.
“True.”
“And with us being neighbors and with having the same friends, I don’t want anything to be forced.”
“Okay.”
A few other words from him would be nice. “I’m open to having a genuine friendship. Please don’t feel that you owe me anything or I have certain expectations. It was one night. A very good one at that.” That gets a smile from him. I gesture to my ledgers. “You don’t have to do this because we—”
“I know I don’t, Jayne. I’m a big boy. I can take care of myself.” He starts eating again.
I think of Paisley’s words earlier that night. “We’re going to be around each other a lot and if there’s something unspoken between us....”
“Jayne,” he says. “I hadn’t given it a second though. You made everything clear that night. I’m recently out of a serious relationship and it was refreshing to know exactly what was expected. I’m good. Are you good?”
Meaning just let it go, already! He hasn’t given it a second thought. Such flattery.
I nod my head. Stupid Paisley and her dumb words.
“I’m not a dope. I know the score. You’re not looking for anything serious and ultimately, I am. You don’t want children and I’d take a few more. It was one night. We’re good. Can I?” He indicates to the papers.
The familiar push of heat creeps up my neck. “Yes, please,” I say and turn to open the door and wait for Cordie.
That was easy.
I sigh.
Chapter 13
Another long day on the books, as they say. While at the pub I noticed their standard imported beer was out of stock, something that’s never happened before. When I asked Mum about it she dismissed it with a hand wave and blamed it on the distributor. My own business plans appear to have stalled, or perhaps are sputtering. I should go home and get my advert ready for Shara’s replacement but I’m exhausted and in need of some laughter, human contact, and my friends.
Josie and Brinn are back from their honeymoon and profess jet lag; hence the late evening get-together. It’s precisely what I need. When I pull up to their single-story home, the sun is slowly sliding lower in the sky and the hickory aroma of a barbecue tugs me forward. I’m planning on eating my way to a carb-induced slumber.
Josie swings open the door before I’m upon her landing. “Jayne. Finally. You look like shit. Tired.”
“Wow. Thanks. And here I put this look together for you.” I slip out of my heels, leave them to dangle from my fingers, before we do a hug. It’s good to see her again. “How was the trip abroad?”
“Wonderful. It was good to get away and have nothing to think about but sightseeing and sex.” She wags her brows while ushering me in. “But, we’re home and Brinn’s back to being hyper focused. He and Stacy have been holed up all afternoon.”
“Back to the grind.” I drop both my shoes and purse on the bench inside her foyer and subtly try to check my image in the mirror hanging above it. Josie’s right. Dark circles are blooming under my eyes. My hair’s come out of its French twist and hangs at awkward angles due to being pinned while still damp and I’m pale. I make quick work of pulling out the pins.
“Yeah, I think Brinn was getting twitchy the last few days. I brought you a ton—seriously, it weighs a ton—of chocolate.”
“Bless you,” I say, my mouth watering in anticipation.
Outside the double sliding doors, the ocean beckons. A large deck extends the house toward the water and a fire pit, much like the one from the hotel used for Josie’s wedding, crackles. Immediately my gaze goes to Stacy, who’s reclined in a chair, his long legs stretched in front of him. Our eyes meet and the heat from the inevitable blush creeps up my neck.
I’m so glad we’ve seen each other before this moment. Now I won’t wonder if he thinks about how urgently we stripped each other and didn’t make it to the bed. Or recall when he took me in the shower. Who am I kidding? One glance at me and he more likely wonders if I have extra takeaway than thinks about our one night. But I’m such a pathetic sod, my mouth goes dry and my knees wobble, so I collapse onto a chair and break eye contact, pretending to scan the group; only the images from that night are all I see.
“Orgasmic,” I say when someone says my name.
“Pardon?” Paisley says. “I asked how your shop hunting went and you said orgasmic?” Chatter around me has dulled.
Er, think fast!
“No, sorry. Josie was talking about the chocolate she brought me and I was thinking how wonderful it would be if I could...er...get some. It’s been a long day and chocolate would be—”
“Orgasmic,” Paisley supplies with skepticism.
“Oh,” Josie says, clapping her hands. “I’ll go get it now.” She jogs back inside and I keep my attention on Paisley.
“Yes, orgasmic.”
Paisley flops into the chair next to me.
“Her
e it is,” Josie says after coming back. She dumps an obscene amount of chocolate in my lap; several pieces fall to the floor or on the seat next to me.
“Sweet Jesus.” Paisley gives low whistle.
“Praise Jesus,” Pippa says and snatches up a dark chocolate bar from her favorite maker. “I don’t crave much but this...I long for.” Quickly she removes the foil and shoves a large piece in her mouth. “Oh, me, wawd. So ’ood,” she says between shoving more into what little space is left.
“In case you were wondering, there was more, but Josie’s been working her way through it,” Brinn says and takes an elbow to the gut from Josie.
“You weren’t supposed to tell,” she says with mock horror.
Stacy leans toward me. “Hey, I’ve been meaning to say thanks. That lady you hired did an incredible job.” His voice is low and husky.
“Oh, ah....” Damn my stupid hormones or his pheromones or whatever it is that makes me want to reply “You did an incredible job rocking my world.”
“You’re welcome.” Pippa smiles at him...coyly?
Our one-night replay is forgotten as I try to read my cousin.
“You’re the woman Jayne hired?” Stacy says. “You moved some heavy furniture. Did you have help?”
“You rearranged his house?” I ask.
“I feng shui-ed it,” she tells me before giving Stacy all her attention. “I have incredible upper body strength. Watch.”
I stifle a groan and Josie laughs as Pippa flips into handstand square in front of him. Should she fall to the side she’d land directly in the fire but she won’t. Control and strength are her forte. Unlike me.
She holds the handstand for what feels like an obscenely long time before easing down and sliding into the splits.
“I’m very limber,” she says, arching backward. “All upper body.”
Showoff.
“Yes, I noticed,” he says, mouth slightly ajar. “I mean, at the wedding I noticed. Not that I was staring or anything....”
“Take this chocolate away from me,” says Josie as she thrusts a large block at her husband. “I have no self control. I’m unable to tell myself no. You’re going to have to do it for me. For better or for worse, remember.”
He takes it, chuckling, and pops a small bit into his mouth. “What do I say when you beg for it back?”
“Tell me no. That if I want to do what’s good and right I need to cut my ties right now before this becomes a habit I can’t break. Can you do that?”
“I can and will,” he says before dropping a kiss on her mouth.
“Mm, you taste like chocolate and sin,” she says, pulling him closer by grabbing his shirt in her hands and tugging.
“So do you. You sure you don’t want to get creative with this stuff later?” We all hear him whisper.
“For Pete’s sake,” Paisley cries. “Can you two try to refrain from such public displays of affection? It’s awkward for the rest of us.” She turns to me and shakes her head. “I’m going to stop coming here.”
“I ignore it,” Pippa says as she moves into plank position. “Look at my muscles,” she tells Stacy.
And that’s when it hits me.
See Jayne get a brilliant idea.
To me, Stacy is like chocolate. Smooth, dreamy, and completely addictive. Aside from his height, he’s great with his hands. Well, and all the other moving parts of his body. There’s a softness about him that appeals to me. And while that’s all wonderful, glittery rainbows and unicorns, starting something up with him is dangerous and ill advised. Outside of the bedroom, what do I offer him? Certainly not a motherly figure for his daughter. I’m not the homemaker type, and, to be honest, I’ve too much I want—no, need—to accomplish before I begin to contemplate the merits of settling down.
Besides, his fool eyes have been transfixed on Pippa. Perhaps he was unimpressed with our tryst and... No, not going to go there.
Instead, I mentally weigh my idea, sketching out the pros and cons.
Pippa and Stacy. Would it work?
I think it might. She’s bendy, as he has pointed out. More than once. Clearly, he likes that. She organized his home in a manner he found pleasing, even the rearranging of the furniture. She’s gentle and loving, albeit gassy, and would love to coddle Cordie.
And I could be their matchmaker. I will remove the temptation that is this tall glass of drink and make two people, no three—wait, four, if you include me—happy.
Who loses?
It requires a more romantic nature than I possess to believe that one night—yes, an incredibly passionate and fulfilling night—equates to anything more than...one night. I’ve been lonely, busy, and focused on my business; it’s to be expected something would be neglected and in this case it was sex. And while I’m still giving all to my expansion, I can’t use Stacy as a default to meet my needs any more than I can binge-eat crisps and expect it not to affect my waistline. Besides, I can always forget to call the cable company and cancel the free skin channel subscription. During the day, I’m told, they play regular films. If ever I’m home again I might indulge in some of those as well.
But how do I bring him and Pippa together without being so...obvious?
“Pip,” I say while leaning forward, snapping my fingers to get her attention. “Thanks for helping out at the pub. I know Mum appreciates it.”
“Oh, I love it. Especially helping her cook. Aunt Millie is a joy to be with.”
I tell Stacy, “Pippa’s a good cook. Should you need anything while you’re trying to get sorted maybe she can help you out.”
Pippa comes from plank, stretches into a quick child’s pose before sliding into the seat between Stacy and me. “I’d love to fill my time. Not that I can work, ahem, legally but doing little bits here and there.” She gives a casual shrug. “Who does that hurt?” She looks around the group for protesters and comes up lacking.
Cordie runs up from the beach, a pail and shovel swinging from her hand. “This place is awesome. It’s so cool you live right on the beach,” she says to Josie and Brinn.
“We like it. You’re welcome to come and play anytime,” Josie says, stroking a hand down the child’s head, smoothing her wind-tossed hair.
“I wish we had a house on the beach instead of that stupid townhouse.” She gives her father a pouty look.
“If you were smarter and didn’t need to go to school, we could live anywhere, but until that day comes we’re bound to live in areas with good schools that can meet your academic needs,” he replies sarcastically.
“Jeez, Dad. I thought you wanted me to be ‘well rounded’ and not just a math nerd like you.” Her eye roll tells me this is a standing conversation.
Stacy leans toward Pippa and me and says, “She’s exceptionally bright. Likes to rub my nose in the fact that I struggle with grammar. How can knowing what a misplaced modifier is ever come in handy?” His tone is thick with pride.
“How do you like gifted camp, Cordie? Will you stay there for afterschool?” Paisley asks. “My niece and nephew participate in a swim team at their after-school program.”
Cordie snorts. “I’m not so lucky. It’s awful. One kid put gum in my hair. And I’ve only been going two weeks. Who knows what else can happen?” She says the last part to Stacy.
“What do you want me to do, Cordie? I’m looking for someone to stay home with you. It’s not an easy process.”
I elbow Pippa. Hard. Thankfully she gets my meaning.
“But I could do it while you search for someone more permanent,” she says.
Unless they fall in love and then she can stay forever. Oh, make that six people I’ll make happy. Mum and Dad would love Pip to stay in town forever.
“Besides being a good cook, Pip’s great with braids and other cool hair styles,” I tell Cordie. Greasing the wheels. “She also likes to play games and is quite fun.”
“Oh, I’m brilliant with cribbage, crazy eights, and Uno,” P
ippa says, the child in her coming out and excited to play. Poor Pip, stuck with me as playmate all her life, and I was more interested in fashion magazines than moving pieces around a board.
Cordie looks at her father; a dolt could interpret her pleading expression.
“Don’t make her go back, you awful man,” I tease from behind Pippa’s back. Nudging him further into the ring.
“Would you be willing, Pippa? Keep Cordie until I can find someone permanent? School starts next week so it would only be after she gets out for the day. It would be a big help.” Stacy’s pleading expression matches his daughter’s.
“Oh, I’d love it. We’ll have a fabulous time.” She extends her hand and receives a high five from Cordie.
“Great. Can you start tomorrow?” Stacy’s wide smile is even and though the dimple in his chin peeks out, it’s his crooked grin I like better.
“Fabulous,” Pippa says.
“Can you really do good braids?” Cordie asks. “Jayne did mine the other day and it was cool.”
“Puh-leez. I’m better than Jayne. Have you seen the side braid with bows?” Pippa raises one brow and I know she’s reeling in the child. One thing my cousin has always wanted? A family of her own. The only child of a mum who would disappear for long lengths of time, Pippa grew up more at my home. The day I left for University was probably the hardest for both her and me. My parents, much to Mum’s family’s dislike, were moving to America to start their own business and taking Pip with them. She would be starting over in a new country without anyone else to help her plod along the path. Mum, Pip’s legal guardian, refused to leave her behind with our aunties, claiming they wouldn’t care well enough for the teenage Pippa. But no matter how often we told her how welcome she was and how much we wanted her around, she once confessed to me that she never really felt as if she belonged. I suppose bouncing around from place to place with her mum in her formative years left her unable to tether.
I’d love to see her find her place. If that’s with Stacy and Cordie, even better.
“Can you try that on my hair now?” Cordie asks.
“Aye-ya. Come on, let’s go through Josie’s bits and bobs and get the things we need.” She takes the child’s hand and off they go.