by L. M. Carr
“Reading. I liked reading and math.”
“Really?” I ask, thinking he would have said Physical Education or something more active. “What— did you have a hot teacher who loved reading and you wanted to make a good impression?”
Laughing, Andrew replies and says that wasn’t the case at all. “Reading was an escape and I’ve always been good with numbers.”
“Numbers, huh? What’s sixteen times twenty-two?”
Andrew’s eyes shift downward as he blinks, his eyelids moving quickly as he calculates the multiplication fact mentally.
“Three hundred fifty- two.”
Using my finger on the placemat, I write the equation and confirm his answer.
“Okay. Then what was your favorite book?”
Andrew wipes a smudge of BBQ sauce from the corner of his mouth with a napkin then sets it down, eyeing me carefully. “The Giver.”
I choke on a sip of beer. “The Giver? Seriously? I loved that book, too. I felt so badly for Jonas when he realized his perfect world wasn’t so perfect after all. Can you imagine the burden of carrying all those memories? I’m sure there were plenty he wanted to forget.”
Tightening his lips, Andrew agrees. “Like when he found out his father was a murderer.”
Lifting the bottle of beer to my lips, I comment about how my mother would’ve preferred I read Nancy Drew instead of something so mature and serious. I always figured things out before my brothers did and she thought I was a good detective.
“Good detective, huh?”
“Yep. I can sit for hours and work on a puzzle.”
Andrew scoffs and wrinkles his forehead as he sits back in his chair. “A puzzle.” He laughs. “What does that have to do with being a detective?”
“Think about it. Every piece has its own shape and characteristic. You need to analyze each one to see how it fits with the others. You have to look at the colors and the whole picture. If the pieces don’t fit, you have to keep working until you find its match. With a mystery, you have to pick up on the clues, put them together to see if it all matches. Sometimes the ones you think should go together don’t always. Problem solved.”
Mocking me, Andrew says, “That’s a ridiculous analogy.”
“No it’s not—”
“How’re you two lovebirds doing over here?” Rachel asks, clearing away some of the dishes. “Did you save room for dessert?”
My eyes widen as I protest her suggestion that Andrew and I are a couple.
“It’s not like that, Rach. Some days I hardly even like him,” I add for good measure then grin at my dinner companion.
“And other days she loves me.” His gaze holds mine for a split second. “Excuse me.” Andrew rises from the table and walks across the bar, following the sign to the restrooms.
“Did I say something wrong?” Rachel asks, a worried expression on her face.
“Nah,” I brush off her concern. “He’s moody. I’ll take the check when you have a chance.”
Scanning the busy restaurant, I look to my right, glancing over my shoulder when I feel the weight of someone’s stare. I search for the heavy eyes and catch Mason staring at me from his seat at the end of the bar. The frizzy-haired brunette curled up next to him is vying for his undivided attention just as she has done since we were kids in middle school.
I mouth, “Shannon Stanton?” then roll my eyes, suggesting he can do much better than her.
Mason half-smiles and subtly shakes his head as Shannon tugs on his arm, practically begging him to dance. After much convincing, she finally succeeds and drags him onto the small crowded dance floor when a Luke Bryan song comes on.
“You wanna dance?” Andrew asks, startling me as his breath releases behind my ear.
My lips turn upward and I smile, turning slowly to reply. My breathing hitches and I gasp when his lips find mine, sending a surge of heat and electricity down my throat and into my entire body. To say that I mind having Andrew kiss me would be a complete and utter lie, but this pendulum he has me swinging on is making me dizzy. I pull back slightly and catch the amusement in his eyes. Suppressing the desire to feel his mouth on mine, I manage to murmur and ask what he’s doing.
“Giving Mason an even better reason to stare at you.”
Although it would be fun to drive Mason crazy and see his jealous side emerge, I pass on Andrew’s offer.
“What?!” I sneer, sucking my teeth loudly. “Mason’s not staring at me. Besides he’s on a date.”
“An awful one. The poor woman doesn’t stand a chance with you in the room.”
My expression turns to disbelief. “You’re making stuff up now.”
“Trust me, I’m not. He’s been looking over at you all night. I think he regrets letting you go.” Then he adds quietly, “I know I would.”
When Rachel sets the check down on the table, I reach for the hand-written bill and place my debit card on top.
“I’ve got it,” Andrew says as he holds my debit card out, suggesting I put it away.
“Too slow, Darling!” I tease, handing over the payment to Rachel.
Andrew sits down and shakes his head. “You really are stubborn!”
“You know that’s the second or third time you called me stubborn,” I point out the simple fact with a raised brow.
“When?” he huffs.
“Yep! That day at Victor’s off—” I argue but quickly backpedal nervously when I notice his countenance shifts somberly. “Never mind.”
“Well,” he starts, arranging his well-worn mask back in place with a cool smile, “next time we go out to eat, I’m paying.”
Rachel returns with my debit card and I scribble my name after adding a handsome tip.
“Twenty-five percent? That’s quite generous.” Andrew chuckles softly when he sits.
“I used to work here every summer since high school. Tips are important.”
Nodding, Andrew seems to accept my explanation.
“Did you work as a teenager? I bet you were a life guard or a camp counselor.” I laugh, trying to picture him doing arts and crafts with youngsters.
“I actually didn’t have a real job until I was almost twenty-eight.”
I slam my hands on the table, drawing attention from the older couple sitting next to us. I glance over and offer a quick smile along with an apology.
“Twenty-eight? Twenty—eight? Who does that? How’d you get money?”
Before Andrew’s lips part to respond, I answer my own question with humor. “That’s right!” I palm my forehead. “I forgot you were born with a silver spoon in your mouth.”
Narrowing his eyes, Andrew leans forward and smirks. “You really think you’ve got me all figured out, don’t you, Nancy Drew? You have no idea. But if you must know, I dabble in a few different things. I’ve made some investments.”
I sense a challenge in his voice as though he wants me to figure him out; he wants me to put the pieces together. The understanding behind his motivation evades me.
“Then tell me. Tell me what it was like for you. Give me some insight into who Andrew Jackson Darling really is.” I realize the tone of my voice seems desperate, but the truth is, I am desperate to get to know him better and to understand his relationship with his parents. With each passing day, I like him more and more. I enjoy his company; I enjoy his sense of humor and I really enjoy his touch.
“You actually know a lot more about me than most people.”
“Why’s that?” I ask, tilting my head with curiosity.
“I’ve lived most of my life in the shadows. I like it there. No one bothers me. There’s no expectation. No disappointment.”
A wave of sadness washes over me, and I long to reach across the table to caress his cheek, easing the lines of wariness and tension which are now visibly stretched across his face.
“You ready to go?” I ask, gathering my bag and sliding it onto my shoulder. “I hope Connor is still awake.”
“Wanna go say goodbye to Mason?
” Andrew jokes as he stands.
My eyes widen with mock excitement and I rub my palms together greedily. “Maybe I can get a good night kiss from him,” I toss back as I walk toward the exit.
Following closely behind me, Andrew places a hand on the small of my back and mumbles in my ear something that sounds very much like, “Don’t worry. I’ve got one for you.”
♦♦♦
Knocking on the door of my brother’s apartment, we are greeted by Molly, his longtime girlfriend, who raises a finger to her lips and gives me a sympathetic smile. “I tried to keep him up, but he just fell asleep,” she whispers, cradling her son in her arms.
Disappointment settles on my face, but my frown gives way to a smile when I kiss his soft red curls and inhale the scent of innocence.
I quietly introduce Andrew then promise a swift return as I follow Molly down the hallway to the nursery. With a glance back, I catch Andrew checking out my backside and I narrow my eyes.
“Are you checking out my ass?” I ask, stopping mid-step.
After swiping his tongue across his bottom lip, Andrew grins and draws out his words slowly and he shrugs defenselessly. “Can’t help myself. It’s a really, really nice ass.”
His comment sends warmth to every part of my body and moisture between my thighs. I turn and continue toward the baby’s room, swaying my hips for his viewing pleasure until I round the corner. Even though I couldn’t see those beautiful blue eyes, I know they were on me the whole time.
Stepping into Connor’s nursery, I freeze as my eyes take in the sheer beauty and workmanship of the hand-crafted furniture. The details along the wood reveal the endless hours spent by my father and brother, working side by side to carve the intricacies with fine tools. Sadness settles on my heart momentarily because deep in the back of my father’s huge shed is the crib he designed and started to build a few days after I married Sean. Having always loved children, the prospect of starting a family seemed inevitable. I had no doubts that our family would quickly grow from two to three, but Sean had other plans. God only knows what the future holds for me now.
My nephew settles, lying peacefully on his back with an angelic smile on his chubby face. A carbon copy of Gabriel with Molly’s fiery red hair, Connor has become the apple of everyone’s eye.
Molly turns to me and smiles. “He could use a cousin.”
I scoff and cover my mouth to prevent the noise from waking the infant. “You do realize I’m not married anymore, right?”
“Neither am I!” she hisses, her lips twisting to point out the fact.
A picture of my brother and his family at an apple orchard catches my eye. I pick it up and admire it. “True, but you’re with Gabe.” I grin at her. “Although I don’t know why,” I say with an exaggerated gagging noise. “And a piece of paper isn’t going to change that. You guys love each other!”
Molly nods then sighs. “That we do.”
“Then why won’t you marry him already?”
With a shrug of her shoulders, she says, “I don’t know. I’m not ready.”
I toss her a wry look.
“Promising to love someone for the rest of your life is kind of scary to me.”
“But you loved Connor before you even met him.”
“Loving my child is different. That little boy is my heart and soul. From the moment I found out I was pregnant, I knew I would give anything and everything to keep him safe. Remember, he didn’t ask to be born.” She says with a small shake of her head. “He didn’t come to me with preconceived notions or expectations. The only thing he came to me with was unconditional love. He was entitled to the best of everything—the best parents, the best care, the best family—but all of that aside, he was entitled to love from the very beginning.”
Moisture blurs my eyes and a smile tips my lips. “You’re a good momma. He’s a lucky little boy.”
Molly turns on the monitor then glances back at her child. “I am very blessed.”
Entering the small living area littered with baby paraphernalia, I find Andrew sitting on the striped sofa, scrolling through his phone, wearing a look of discomfort on his face. On the cushion next to his leg is a vintage toy, one my brothers played with before passing it down to me. I smile at the thought.
“That used to be mine,” I say, gliding over to sit beside him, lifting the toy in remembrance.
“I had one of those too,” he states somberly then exhales quietly.
His form appears colossal in the tiny two bedroom apartment, and my thoughts drift to the idea of him living all alone in the nearly five-thousand square foot home he now owns.
Amazed, I smile softly at how an old toy can catapult me back to the years I played with my brothers and fought for attention amongst them. Thankfully though, being the youngest and the only girl, it wasn’t nearly as bad for me as it was for Gabe. He was good in sports, but he certainly wasn’t the most scholarly of the Montgomery clan.
After setting his phone down and clearing his throat, Andrew runs a quick hand through his hair then picks up the toy. I turn my head to look at him, surprised by the stark expression on his face. Hoping to ease the obvious tension, I make an attempt at humor.
“Bet you had a roomful.”
“Of?” he asks for clarification.
“Toys. I’m sure you had a roomful of all kinds of toys.”
A deep, slow grin appears when he looks at me from the corner of his eye. “Still do.”
I chuckle and nod. “I walked right into that one, didn’t I?”
The vibration of his phone pulls his eyes away from me and I steal a glance at it.
Paige.
A roar of jealousy tempers through me, and I clench my teeth, mentally chastising myself for the inexplicable and completely inappropriate reaction. Andrew Darling is nothing to me. He’s a friend—a coworker—business partner and unfortunately, a one-night stand. Nothing else.
So why does my heart beat faster when he glances in my direction? Why do I melt at his touch? Why am I filled with a desperate desire to taste his lips? Why does the sound of his voice send shivers down my spine? Why does the kindling in my veins transform into a raging wildfire whenever he’s near me? Why do I become possessive and want to stake a claim on him? And why do I feel like I’m falling hard for him?
Needing to distract myself from grabbing his phone and smashing it onto the dark hardwood, I gather my hair, separate it into three sections and form a loose braid.
“What’s wrong?” Andrew inquires.
“Nothing,” I respond too quickly.
A deep exhale emerges from Andrew’s lungs.
“What’s wrong with you?” I question, drawing his attention away from the screen.
“Nothing,” he tosses out the same word, but I get the feeling he isn’t being truthful, judging by the wrinkle between his brows.
Silence fills the small space between us as my eyes scan my brother’s modest home. A picture of my parents steals my attention. I rise and walk to the black and white photograph nestled in the chunky black frame. Captured forever in time is the image of my mother holding Connor. The look of pure adoration and love shared between them is as clear and bright as the stars on a moonless night.
The proximity of Andrew’s voice at my ear startles me and my spine stiffens. The butterflies reappear, fluttering wildly in my belly. “Your mom looks so happy.”
I turn my head slightly, smiling and parting my lips to address him before returning my eyes to the picture. “She really does. She watches him three days a week and comes over to see him when Molly is home. She is so in love with that little boy. He’s her entire world. Except for the red hair, he looks so much like my brother Paul.”
“Paul?”
“My brother who passed away when he was sixteen. I told you about him.” I swallow the lump in my throat thinking about how difficult it must be for my mother. To look at your grandson and see the face of your dead son.
Andrew moves in closer, nearly pressing
his chest into my back and his erection into my ass. I gasp quietly when his hand travels up my arm and then moves my braid. Feeling his lips at my ear, my eyes close.
“Do you have any idea how much I want you?” He places a light kiss below my ear.
Again, I swallow nervously and hum.
Another soft kiss. “I want to be with you. To taste you. To feel your mouth wrapped around this.” His hand slides to my stomach, pulling me abruptly against his solid length. “I want more than just your pus—”
“Anyone want coffee?” Molly asks, startling me as she stands there wide-eyed holding a mug in the air. Grinning she adds, “Or a room?”
My cheeks flush, and I move away from Andrew immediately.
“Sure,” I reply. “To the coffee!”
Accepting the offer, Andrew and I both prepare our hot beverages and settle back in the living room. I chuckle at Andrew’s comments about Connor’s overabundance of toys.
“Whenever we go into town, no one can resist his charms,” Molly says, “and when he smiles, forget it! Women practically throw things at him. One would think he’s the Christ child or something.”
A devious grin stretches across Andrew’s face. “Must be nice.” His grin grows wider. “I wouldn’t know a thing about that.”
Laughter erupts from my belly and I set my coffee cup down on the end table beside me. “You are such a liar! Women everywhere drool over you! Even before you open your mouth to speak in French, they’re batting their eyelashes and dropping their panties.”
Connor cries out from his crib, causing his mother to rise quickly to soothe him. “He’s teething.” The look on her face reveals the lengths a parent would go to relieve their child of any sort of agony. After a few hurried strides toward the hall, Andrew and I are left alone again.
“Everyone but you.”
My head snaps in Andrew’s direction. “What?”
“You heard me,” he replies, leaning in closer to me, eliciting goose bumps to dot my skin. “I’ve never had to work so hard to fuck someone as I have with you, but then again I’ve never craved someone as much as I do you.”
“Maybe I’m just not into you like that,” I shoot back with raised brows.