The After of Us (Judge Me Not Spin-off)

by S. R. Grey

  Chase is eyeing me more suspiciously than ever now that I’ve grown so quiet. He knows something happened that night.

  “Yeah, that would be Emma,” he finally confirms, referring to my earlier question.

  “This is so great,” Kay innocently chimes in. “You two will have a chance to catch up.”

  Under his breath, Chase mutters, “Don’t encourage him.”

  “Dude.” I roll my eyes at him.

  What does he think happened that night? And what does he think I plan to do now? Hook up with Emma?

  Truthfully, though, I wouldn’t pass up a second chance with her. Like I said, she was hot back then, and I’m sure she’s even hotter all grown up. She must be. Chase wouldn’t be so worried about me making a move on her if she wasn’t still cute.

  My expression betrays me and Chase kicks my foot under the table. “Just behave, Will. Don’t forget Missy is her cousin, and Missy’s husband is my business partner.”

  Ah, see, the underlying real reason why Chase is wary of my intentions.

  I put up my hands, in an effort to placate him. “Okay, okay. I got it. No working my smooth moves on Missy’s cousin.”

  Chase completely misses my attempt at a joke, but Kay, to her credit, gets my humor and smiles over at me.

  Something is clearly still worrying Chase, so I ask, “Hey, what’s up your ass?”

  “I’m just thinking about Lily,” he responds.

  Instantly defensive, I say, “I thought we had this all worked out? I swear I’ll be back in two weeks, max, to pick her up.”

  Blowing out a breath, Chase says, “So, that’s how you plan to work it?”

  “What do you mean?” I am truly stumped as to where this is heading.

  “Well, Lily is obviously too young to fly alone. I thought maybe you’d ask me and Kay to drive her up, but it sounds like you’re coming back to pick her up, yeah?”

  “Yes, Chase. I’m coming back to pick her up.” I resist the urge to roll my eyes.

  And then my brother finally gets to what’s really bugging him. “And how exactly is that supposed to work? You don’t have a car, Will. The one outside is just a rental.”

  “Uh, yeah, that one’s a rental, but…”

  Chase doesn’t know about the extravagant graduation gift—the BMW—my mom gave to me, but he must suspect something. Shit.

  “Will?” Chase prompts.

  “Okay, yeah, I have a car. I already set it up to have it driven from Vegas to New York next week.”

  Chase is well-aware our mom likes to spoil me, and, in a quiet voice, he asks, “Is this the graduation gift Mom was being all sly about last weekend?”

  I blow out a breath. “Yeah, it is.”

  “So, what’d she get you?”

  “A BMW convertible.”

  Chase runs a hand over his face. Leaning back, he mutters, “Unbelievable.”

  My brother isn’t jealous or anything like that. He just hates that our mom substitutes material things for actually being there for us. He does have a point; it is a pretty fucked-up situation.

  Kay places a hand on Chase’s arm, the one with the words I stand before you, judge me not tattooed around his bicep. I stare at his ink and think how—on this day—those words apply more to me than to him. ‘Cause here I am, standing before my brother, asking him for help, since frankly I am floundering.

  “Bro,” I say quietly.

  Chase looks over at me, and I clear my throat. I want to be as honest as possible, just to lay the facts on the line.

  “Look, I know I’m asking a lot with all of this. But, seriously, it isn’t just for me. I’m asking for Lily, too. I just want to do the best thing for her, I really do.”

  Chase nods, accepting me at my word. Kay also smiles over at me encouragingly.

  But me? What’s going through my head?

  Well, truth be told, I can’t shake the feeling that if I really wanted to do the right thing for Lily, I wouldn’t be leaving her at all.

  Will

  The next morning, Chase and Kay rope me into going to church with the family.

  As I let out a groan, Kay tells me, “Emma will be there. After mass, you can talk with her about enrolling Lily in daycare.”

  “Oh, joy,” I reply. I was planning on just calling Emma, but my fate appears to be sealed.

  I spend the next half an hour putting on a suit and helping Lily into her fancy duds. Well, the suit part takes all of five minutes, maybe seven with tying the tie. Lily is the problem-dresser.

  While throwing frilly lavender fabric in my face, she crosses her arms over her undershirt-covered chest. I got that on her at least, along with a pair of lavender leggings. It’s the dress that goes over everything that Lily doesn’t like.

  “I go like this,” she declares, pushing out her bottom lip.

  My patience is worn thin this morning. “Lily, just put on the goddamn dress.”

  “Quit swearing!” Lily chastises, and rightly so.

  “I’m sorry, Lil,” I say, humbled by my five-year-old.

  My daughter finally allows me to slip the dress over her head. But as I’m helping her put on her shiny patent leather purple shoes, I know something has to be brewing in that little head of hers. She’s far too complacent suddenly.

  A few minutes later, when we head out to Chase and Kay’s minivan, parked in the driveway, I realize why. Seems my tattle-tell daughter can’t wait to run up to Chase and inform him, “Daddy swore. And it’s not the first time, either. It’s just awful, Uncle Chase. He has potty-mouth.”

  Chase breaks out in a devious smile. “Hmm, that is awful, Lily. Potty-mouth, huh?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll make sure your daddy receives a suitable punishment for his terrible language.”

  “This from Mr. Gutter Mouth,” I grumble under my breath as Kay takes Lily and helps her get settled in the minivan.

  When Kay slides the door shut, she gives us a look. “Brothers,” she says, shaking her head and walking away.

  Chase places his hand on my back and urges me to, “Come on, get in,” as he slides open the minivan door Kay just shut.

  I balk. Lily, Jack, and Sarah are all buckled in their car seats, but they’re still hyper as hell, bouncing around everywhere. These kids are far too lively for the early morning hour.

  “You expect me to sit in the back with all the kids?” I glance over at the rental car. “I think I’ll just follow you to church.”

  Chase gives me a shove. “No, we’re already running late. Just get in the back. There’s no room for you up front.”

  Now I know what Chase meant when he told Lily I’d receive a “suitable punishment” for swearing in front of her.

  “You’re such an asshole, dude,” I whisper, so the kids don’t hear me swear again.

  As I reluctantly crawl into the only open space, the seat next to Lily, I hear Chase laughing.

  “I’m glad this is so amusing for you, Chase. Just wait. I’ll think of some way to get you back. And when I do…”

  Chase appears not to be one bit worried. “Yeah, good luck with that,” he tells me as he slides the door closed in my face.

  Just as I’m conjuring up ideas to make my big bro pay, Lily reaches over and takes my hand. It’s the sweetest gesture, something simple and pure. And with that, I abandon all plans to get Chase back, because I then realize that putting me in the back with the kids was never meant as a punishment. Sitting next to my little girl, her hand secured in mine, is truly a gift.

  Emma

  Will Gartner. What a dick. Okay, not really. But I need to tell myself that or I’ll succumb to his charm, like I did back when I was fifteen years old.

  I put myself out there, made a move so we could be alone at that stupid wedding reception. And what happened? Will didn’t want to kiss me, despite the fact I practically threw myself at him. Ugh. I’d never felt more unattractive in my life. Will Gartner was gorgeous—probably still is—
and he shut me down.

  Nonetheless, for some inexplicable reason, I’ve thought about him often since then. I guess there was just something about him, a crazy, but undeniable, connection that I haven’t felt since then…with anyone. There was no one like Will at college, and certainly not anyone like him here in Harmony Creek.

  Do connections like that stand the test of time, though?

  Guess I’ll find out soon enough, seeing as Will is back in Harmony Creek, with a kid this time. He apparently has a daughter named Lily, who he didn’t know existed until three days ago.

  Kay filled me in with an overview of the situation last night when she called. She was somewhat cagey on the details, but I understood why. She wants to try to paint her brother-in-law in the best light.

  Still, the facts are the facts. Will got some girl pregnant back when he was sixteen, probably a result of a one-night stand. Let’s face it, a guy as devastatingly handsome as Will surely has—and had—girls throwing themselves at him. Hell, even teenage-me wanted him. Though, in my innocence, I was only hoping for a kiss.

  Now that I think on it, no wonder Will rejected me. I must’ve seemed so pathetic to him, batting my eyelashes, trying to flirt in my teen-girl naïve style. What a fool I was.

  And why should now be any different? I’m still not exactly Miss Experienced.

  Out behind the school, I kneel down by a flower bed I am slowly filling with beautiful blooms. Frustrated by all this thinking about Will, I grind the trowel I’ve been holding deeper in the dirt.

  With that task completed, I set the little shovel down, and then loosen the roots on a small impatiens plant. At last, I plop the tiny flower into the hole I’ve created.

  I’m strategically hidden from view of the churchgoers this morning, on purpose. Once Kay filled me in on what was happening, that Will wanted to talk to me after church about putting his daughter in my daycare program, I decided to skip mass.

  Truth is I’m just not ready to see Will.

  I mean, what if I’m still interested in him? Based on the fact he never once tried to reach out to me during any of his prior visits to Ohio—though, in his defense, they were few and far between—I can only assume he’s forgotten all about me.

  So why can’t I forget about him?

  How do men even do that—get under your skin and stay there for ages?

  Focus on the flowers, Emma.

  Father Maridale, my boss, has been bugging me to plant flowers behind the school. And luckily the greenhouse was opened bright and early this morning. I stopped by and purchased four flats of impatiens, in varying colors, that were just screaming for a home in the flower beds. The plants I’m working with at the moment have coral blooms.

  But I’m running out of coral, which means a flat of white impatiens is in order, to add a contrasting row.

  Crap. I couldn’t carry all the flowers to the back of the school, so if I want white impatiens, it’s going to require a dash to my car.

  I stand and smooth back strands of raven hair that have fallen from my long ponytail. It’s then I notice how filthy my hands have become. “Yuck,” I mutter.

  I’m probably sporting nice dirt smudges on my cheeks, too.

  Oh well, I don’t plan on running into anyone, I remind myself.

  Still, just in case, I wipe the rest of the dirt from my hands down the sides of my faded jean shorts. And then I hurry over to where I parked my car, around the far side of the building, away from prying eyes.

  At my Mini Cooper, I grab the flat filled with white impatiens from the backseat, and then bop back over to the flower bed as quickly as I can.

  But then . . . “Damn.”

  As I round the side of the building, I see I’m about to be discovered, and by the one person I’ve been hoping to avoid for a little while longer.

  Yep, the good-looking guy, standing with his hands in the pant pockets of what appears to be a well-tailored suit, and seemingly assessing my work in the flower bed, is none other than Will Gartner.

  And, dammit, he still gives me butterflies in my stomach. “Why?” I groan.

  He must hear my lamenting, since he spins around to face me. “Emma?” he says, lifting what I hope is an appreciative brow as he scans me from head to toe.

  When he stops to linger on my bare legs, I return the favor and ogle him.

  Will Gartner is as hot as ever—maybe hotter. He’s taller than I remember, over six feet for sure. And those shoulders, they’re broader than before. Wow. Will sure did grow up. He’s clearly all man these days, and Lord help me, I’m more smitten than ever.

  “Hi, Will,” I squeak out.

  Striking green eyes that melted me seven years ago crinkle at the edges as he smiles over at me.

  He takes a step toward me…and then another. I can tell as he nears that he’s still checking me out, though he’s trying to be sly about it.

  I don’t care. Truth is, I love the attention, his attention. A traitorous part of me—my libido that’s screaming for me to acknowledge that I’m more insanely attracted to Will than ever—applauds me for wearing super-short shorts and a cute navy V-neck tee that’s tight in all the right places.

  Was I subconsciously hoping to run into Will today, despite my sorry attempt to avoid him? Yeah, I probably was.

  I suddenly remember the flowers in my hands and hastily set the flat on the ground.

  “It’s good to see you again,” Will says, his voice far smoother and more confident than I remember.

  “It’s been a long time,” I murmur, wiping my hands down the sides of my shorts. Why do they feel so sweaty suddenly?

  “It has,” he agrees.

  Our eyes meet, and I know he’s remembering that night at the wedding reception, so long ago. Is that regret I see? Does he wish he’d kissed me way back then? The fire’s still there, that’s for sure.

  I suddenly want Will to kiss me, right here, right now. But that’d be ridiculous, right?

  Tearing my gaze from what must be the most hypnotizing eyes, like, ever, I say softly, “It’s nice to see you again, too.”

  Lame, but it’s not a lie. As much as I was hoping I wouldn’t still feel so strongly about Will, I’m kind of glad I do. Because he makes me feel…

  What?

  So damn alive, that’s what. And that strong wave of emotion, and tingling excitement, is exactly what I liked about him all those years ago, and also the reason why I was so appalled when he rejected me.

  Would he reject me today, though?

  So much has changed; we’re no longer bumbling teens.

  I smile over at him. He smiles right the hell back, warming me in places other than my heart, and I conclude: I don’t think he would reject me, not today.

  Enough, though! Really, this is crazy. But is anything ever sensible when lust is involved?

  “So”—I clear my throat, refocusing on why Will actually sought me out—“I heard you wanted to talk to me.”

  “Yeah, yeah, I do.” He takes a step back suddenly, like he needs some space to think more clearly.

  Good, I want to affect him like he affects me.

  “It’s about my daughter, Lily,” he continues. “She’s going to be staying with Chase and Kay for a couple of weeks, while I get settled in New York City. I thought maybe she could spend a couple of mornings each week at the daycare. You know, to give Kay a break and all.”

  Whoa, wait. I’m suddenly very annoyed with Will. When I was seven my father left one day, just up and took off, out of the blue. I later learned he ran off with a woman he’d been having a long-term affair with. In any case, the specifics don’t matter. What matters is he never came back. And to this day, he barely keeps in touch with me.

  How freaking abandoned I felt back then.

  Wait, check that. I still feel abandoned by that jerk. Fifteen years have passed, and his leaving still stings.

  Those dredged-up emotions make me empathize with Lily, and I say, voice tight, “How old is Lily, anyway? Five, ri
ght?”

  Will nods slowly, like he’s not sure what’s causing this suddenly cool attitude of mine. “Yeah, she’s five,” he confirms.

  Shaking my head disapprovingly, I tell him, “You shouldn’t leave her, Will. Didn’t you just recently discover she’s yours?”

  Now a little cool himself, he says, “Sounds like Kay told you everything.”

  Hands on my hips, I reply, “Not everything, but enough. Don’t be mad at her, though. You think word of Lily won’t get out around here?” I let out a scoffing noise. “We’re a small town, Will. Everyone finds out everything, eventually.”

  “Clearly,” he says, his tone thick with irritation.

  I’m getting to him. Good.

  “Anyway,” I continue, “what I’m trying to say is that two weeks are bound to feel like two months to a little kid. And what if it takes you longer than a couple of weeks to get things set up?”

  I can tell I’ve hit a nerve. Will looks guilty as hell, like maybe he was thinking of dragging out his time away from Lily.

  He runs his fingers through his light brown hair, and I wish it didn’t look so soft and silky, so inviting. “I don’t plan on leaving my daughter here in Harmony Creek indefinitely,” he says quietly.

  “Still, it’s unfair to her.”

  His brow furrows. He’s probably wondering why I’m so passionate about a little girl I’ve never met. And, really, what the hell am I doing?

  Before he can ask why I’m going off like this, I swish my hand in the air. “You know what? Never mind. I have no right to question you like this.”

  “Hey, it’s okay,” he says. “It’s a good quality to have, putting kids first, especially when you run a daycare.”

  He’s trying to be nice, even after I’ve been such a bitch.

  Softening my demeanor, I revisit his reason for seeking me out in the first place. “What days were you thinking of signing Lily up for daycare?”

  He looks relieved to get back to business. “Would Tuesdays and Thursdays be okay? Like, just in the mornings. Would that work?”

  “Yeah, that’s not a problem.”

  “Okay, then,” he says. “I’ll tell Kay to bring Lily in on those days.”