by Alexa Davis
Olivia started begging for shave-ice, and Dale and I stood in line at the snow shack for treats for everyone while Shaunte blackmailed good behavior out of Olivia and her own four kids by promising them shave-ice only if they could manage to not fight or talk back before we returned. Olivia wisely climbed into her mother’s lap and watched out over the pool like a little lifeguard, ignoring the other children completely, as they poked and pinched each other, trying to push each other into breaking their silence and lose their treat.
“So, how long you and Libby been dating?” Dale asked as we stood in the mile-long line. The sweat coursing down my neck from the sun, doubled.
“We’re just friends, actually,” I replied. “I’m Olivia’s godfather. I’ve been friends with both Olivia and her ex since we were kids.”
“Were they high school sweethearts?” He sounded astounded.
“No, they met at a party I threw in college. From that night on, they were together, until they got married a year later.”
“Damn. Shaunte and Libby were friends from back in the day, but I’d never really met her until Shaunte and I helped her move into her place. I think I saw you in a truck that day.”
“Yes, I had court, but I helped as much as I could. I guess that means you met my brothers, Danny and Jackson.”
“Oh! No wonder. Shoulda known, y’all look like each other.” I laughed and nodded. “So, you’re just here for Olivia, then?” I glanced at him, and scoffed at the wide grin that split his face.
“So, what do you do, Dale?” Impossibly, his grin widened, and when he laughed, his whole body shook with it.
“All right, I’ll let it go. But the body language you were giving off when Sam was saying ‘hi’ to our girl was pretty dang unmistakable. So, if you were hoping for the element of surprise, you best change your tack.” I sighed and rubbed my palm over my face.
“I’ll keep that in mind.” He laughed out again, and clapped me on the back. It was impossible not to like him, even when he was yanking my chain. We inched forward in the line until we were finally able to drop almost fifty bucks on ice and sugar syrup. I arched my eyebrows at Dale, who smiled and shrugged.
“Hey, you were the first to cave. Those green eyes got you good, man.” It was my turn to laugh. He was right. Her mother was under my skin, but Olivia had my heart from the moment she was born. Nothing between her parents had changed the fact that she was the first baby girl I’d ever encountered in my life. All my preprogrammed settings, the things I’d been taught about protecting the weak and caring for women, taught by old horse men and cow pokes, and learned from watching my father and mother, had risen to the surface when I held Olivia.
I stood with my hands and arms full of paper shave-ice bowls, the cold bleeding through them and prickling along my arms until I was ready to drop them. Dale handed them to his children, one at a time, but only after they thanked me. I shot Libby a look of anguish as frostbite settled into my forearms and she smirked at me and winked. The innocently sexy gesture hit me full force, and I stared for a moment, stunned.
Dale took the second-to-last little glacier off my hands and I took Olivia’s over to her. She threw soft, pudgy, five-year-old arms around my neck and thanked me for her treat as though I’d bought her the whole stand, and told her she could replace broccoli with shave ice at every meal.
I let her sit in my lap as she ate, grimacing with each spoonful of sticky, sugary ice that fell down my thigh instead of going in her mouth. Libby watched us, her face unreadable. I had a sudden jolt of worry. Libby was more than just an attractive woman. She was everything a man could want in a lover, a partner, and a friend. That she was still single was obviously only because she’d been staying away from that part of her life. I certainly wouldn’t want leftover men in her life if she belonged to me. The thought of losing her and Olivia jarred me to my core. Libby tilted her head and questioned me with her eyes, but I shot her a half-smile and looked away.
“You ready to get in the water and rinse off, O?” I asked as she dumped the melted remnants into her mouth, spilling half of it over her chin and down our legs. Libby giggled and carefully lifted her daughter off my lap, doing her best to hold her at arms’ length until she reached the shallow water of the kiddie pool and set her down in the warm water.
I walked to the deep end of the big pool and slid into the water, rinsing myself clean before joining them in the shallows. I sat on the wide steps next to Libby and bumped her with my hip, and she splashed me and shoved me away. I jostled her and pretended to drown her, until she stiffened in my arms. I glanced up to see O, watching us with a bemused look on her face. I set Libby upright and she put a few more inches between us, and my stomach sank a little.
“Hey, O, want me to drown you next?” I teased, sliding off the stairs and chasing her on my knees, so the water was up to my neck. She swam and tried to run in the water until I reached her, then she pretended to give up, only to shove my head under water when I had her in my arms. I surfaced and tickled her, until she held my face in her hands and looked straight into my eyes.
“Uncle Tuck, I want to play with my mom, now. You should relax in the hot tub.” I carried her to her mother, feeling a little stung that they’d both rejected me, minutes apart. I told Dale I was heading to the hot tub, and he joined me, sending tidal waves across the pool, as he ran through the water scattering his kids, who were floating on body boards, playing a game of keep away.
I sat in the jetted hot tub, letting the water pound away at the stress spots on my back, eyes closed. We’d tried talking when we first got in, but the combination of heat and water jets had dulled the conversation, and I was half asleep, when a sudden change in the water level told me Dale had left. I was utterly alone, and when a hand slid over my thigh and gave it a squeeze, well above the hemline of my trunks, I started and slipped off the stone seat, swallowing almost as much water as suddenly (and painfully) flooded my nose.
“Oh, Tucker, I’m so sorry. I was just playing, oh, God, I’m such a jerk,” Libby laughed as she helped me back upright.
“You sound real torn up about it,” I said. She giggled again.
“I really am sorry, but if you’d seen how funny you looked...”
“Well, now I know who not to take out on the water with me, laughing at a drowning man.” I yanked her into my lap, still blinking the sting out of my eyes, and grabbed her thigh the same way she’d grabbed mine. I aimed a little high, and mirrored the look of shock on her face as my hand slid against the fabric between her legs. I froze, staring up at her and trying to find words for an apology that I knew I wouldn’t mean.
She swallowed and her bottom lip tucked between her teeth as she stared down at me, her eyes tight with fear, even as she reached down and pushed my hand tighter against the apex of her legs. My fingers connected with that softest warmest part of her, hotter even than the water around us.
“I only came over to tell you that I appreciated how you are with Olivia. I wasn’t trying to, um….” I pulled her down to me and kissed her softly.
“I’m just about all out of control, so I’m going to put you down now, ‘cause we’re in a very public place, and I don’t know if I can stop, if we decide we really want to start something. But Libby, I want to start something, and I don’t think I can take ‘no’ for an answer after you’ve shown me you want it, too.”
She didn’t answer and I slid my hand down the impossibly soft skin of her inner thigh as I put some space between us. I blew out a breath and laughed shakily.
“As for O, I love the crud out of that girl. I don’t need a ‘thank you’ for hanging out with her, or helping you with stuff, or anything. I like being here.” She tucked a strand of blond hair behind her ear and pulled her knees up under her chin.
“I like you here, too. Sorry for making things weird again.” I knew she was asking for an out, to pretend she didn’t want the same release I did. I’d spent months giving her an out. I’d left them alone and it had
felt like a black hole in the center of my chest, sucking the light out of everything. I wasn’t going back there by choice.
“Well, O seems to have had enough of me, but she’s got a real soft touch with rejection.” I chuckled.
“Kids are funny that way. They just tell you the truth, the way they see things. When you left, she climbed up in my lap and told me she was going to stay with Shaunte and the kids for a little bit, and I should come talk to you.”
“God almighty. She’s something, isn’t she?” I didn’t tell Libby I’d been sent to the hot tub, but made a mental note that O could have whatever she wanted, the next time she asked.
“She sure is,” Libby sighed, pushing her hair back, the way she did when she was tired. “I have to get her in the bath and to bed. You sticking around?” she asked so causally, I almost missed the color in her cheeks, and the way she avoided my eyes.
“Actually, I think I will. I’ve been meaning to look at your, you know, graphic design portfolio. See if there’s anything I can think of to help with marketing. You know, adulting, but more fun.” She smiled her thanks and let me take her hand to help her out of the water.
Olivia fought the decision to return home, until I reminded her that I had brought soda, and Kennedy might be missing her. At the puppy’s name, her eyes lit up and she begged her mom to carry her, “because her legs couldn’t get there fast enough”. I offered to do the carrying, and O promptly scrambled out of my arms and up to my shoulders, monkey-quick, while I gaped at Libby.
We said our goodbyes to Shaunte and Dale, and headed back to the house, Libby chatting away about her business ideas, and me trying not to get caught looking around the complex, wondering which townhouse was Sam’s, and what other men might be watching my girls.
Chapter Eight
Libby
I offered Tucker the master bathroom to shower and dress, while Olivia took her bath in the main bath and I got her ready for bed. I was still in my bathing suit when he stuck his head into the bathroom and offered to read to Olivia so I could shower and change. His voice hitched at the last, and I glanced up to see his gaze trained on my backside. I glared at him until he grinned and ducked his head, and Olivia made him carry her to her room, to pick out three books, before he carted his burden into the living room, to bundle up on the sofa and read to her from The Jungle Book.
I undressed and started the shower, feeling more naked in my bathroom than I had since my wedding night. There was still a faint scent of the cologne and deodorant Tucker wore, and as I breathed in the smell that was so much a part of him, I felt my thighs liquefy and my body heat, just as it had when he’d touched me.
That I could do something so brazen, so unlike me, as to openly tease a man with sex, was inexplicable. If Tucker had been any other man, I would have run in that very same moment. But Tucker was the only man other than my husband who had ever touched me.
I stepped into the shower, still thinking about the night he’d spent holding me, first as I cried for the wasted life and the unanswered questions that would haunt me forever, now that Andrew was gone. But when I ran out of tears, he stayed, and chased questions and coherent thought out of my head as he used his hands and mouth on me in a way I’d never imagined. My fingers ran over my body in the shower, still remembering perfectly the path he’d taken, from my forehead and cheeks, to my lips, my throat, down my arms and up under my clothes, to my breasts. I shuddered as my body clenched around the echo of the raging ocean of pleasure I’d nearly drowned in that night, and I gasped in shock, that I could still conjure him so completely.
How could I ever be with a man who so easily occupied my every thought and desire? I finished quickly and dressed without applying makeup or doing my hair. There was no point in being pretty for Tucker. I couldn’t afford to entice him. Andrew had made me almost invisible as his wife. If I let Tucker have me, there was a chance that I might completely disappear, buried in my own desire to please him. The thought made my blood run cold, sobering me and chasing away the remnants of his touch that clung to my thoughts.
I had to send him away—and ask him, this time, to not return. I took a deep breath and descended the stairs to the living room, where Tucker was still reading. I rounded the sofa and saw a pile of read books on the floor, from Dr. Seuss to Goodnight Moon, and everything in between. Olivia was almost asleep in his arms, and his chin rested on her crown as he softly read “The Velveteen Rabbit” and rocked her in his arms. I watched her blink, slower and slower, her eyes staying closed longer each time, until she gave in to sleep with a sigh. I signaled that she was out, and he read one last page before letting me take the book from him and lift her out of his arms.
He winked and took her back once he was on his feet, and I walked behind him a stack of books in my hands. He laid her in her little four-post bed without waking her, and waited outside as I kissed her warm forehead and tucked her in.
“Do you have anything left for work tonight?” I folded my arms and gestured him downstairs with a nod.
“I don’t know. I’m pretty tired, and I don’t want you to be stuck here with me looking at my CAD program when you could be home, relaxing.” He arched an eyebrow at me, his jaw set.
“If you want me to go, say it. But I offered to help you, and I meant it. Don’t be disingenuous with me like you need an excuse to get rid of me, or it’ll force my hand.” He stalked off toward the back to collect Kennedy, who’d been sleeping when we got back from the pool, worn out from playing hard with Olivia. I watched him shove his things into the backpack he’d brought with him and groaned inwardly at a pang of guilt. I was the one turning tonight into a sex fantasy, not him. He had been a gentleman and a good friend, and I really, really, needed someone to help me get ahead of my ideas and make myself marketable.
“Tucker, I don’t want you to go. I don’t like asking for help. I especially don’t want to ask for help when what I’m trying to do is probably a terrible idea and going to be a failure.” I took a deep breath as he scowled at me.
“Are you the first graphic design genius that’s ever tried to start a business?” He asked, folding his arms across his chest.
“I wouldn’t call myself a ‘genius,’ but no. I’m obviously not the first person to go into business for themselves.”
“So, how could your idea be a terrible failure?” He jumped out of the way as Kennedy pushed past his legs and ran to me, wriggling her side against my legs as she begged for love. “I’m not Andrew, Libby. I don’t expect you to be anything other than you are.” I choked on my response, and as tears stung my eyelids, I felt his hand under my arm. “Hey, you need to sit. I just watched the color drain right out of your face.” I sat and he touched my cheek. “I wasn’t trying to be that on the money. Sorry, Darlin’.”
A glass of water was pressed into my hand and I sipped it, grateful for a reason to not speak. I heard Tucker moving around in the kitchen, and when I felt like I could stand again, I went looking for him. He had cleaned the kitchen and made a plate of food, fruits, and cheeses, and had his head in the pantry. Before I could ask him what he was looking for, he turned around with a bag of almonds in his hand.
He smiled and dumped a small handful of the nuts on the plate, and squeezed some honey out of the plastic bear I kept by the stove for my tea. With one hand on my shoulder, he steered us back into the living room, and set the plate at my elbow. Leaning forward, he kissed my forehead.
“I will still help you, with whatever you need, whenever you’re ready. I’m sorry I didn’t see everything that you had to live with, Libby. I should’ve been a better friend to you, and to Olivia. We never want to see the worst of the people we love.” He stroked my cheek and, hooking the leash to his little Kennedy, he left before I could find the words for an apology.
He couldn’t know that it was me I blamed for the life I’d lived. Every simple act of integrity, or kindness, or honor that Tucker performed, reminded me of how shallow and stupid I’d been, letting myself
buy the excuses and judgment and blame that filled my head even now. I didn’t know how to tell him that I was haunted by the ghost of his best friend, and every time I looked at him, I not only saw Andrew and the good things that we’d had, but every way that my husband had failed me and our family, and every disappointing moment where I had stayed because I thought the things he provided us would make up for his failings.
No longer able to sleep for a while, I took the plate of food Tucker had made for me, and my laptop, and worked at my dining room table until my eyes burned and my sentences no longer made sense to me when I tried to read them over. Soon, I was going to need Tucker to help me for any chance at success. I’d thought I knew all about corporate law, and business laws, taxation, the kind of law my husband and Tuck practiced, but I’d soon realized that the lack of interest I’d had when Andrew was talking about his work, had left me with only a shallow, surface-level understanding of how anything in the real world worked.
When I was ready for help, it would not be because I was too stupid and vain to bother learning or “do my due diligence,” as Andrew had reminded me repeatedly. No, my husband wasn’t the only reason our marriage had been so easy to tear apart when temptation walked by in a short skirt. Andrew hadn’t understood what it meant to be a man of honor. He’d clung to Tucker because he thought he could learn what it was that made Tucker a better man. I’d let my husband drift away, because I believed that loving someone was enough to make a marriage. I was young and stupid and never bothered to learn how to do the work.
I heard Olivia shift in her bed at the top of the stairs, and went to check on her. Her sweet face framed by auburn curls, lay on a pillow designed to look like a panda. Her lips were parted, and her breaths were soft and even when I held my fingers in front of her mouth, just like I had when she was a newborn, and I was afraid to let her sleep for fear that she wouldn’t wake.