by Lily Foster
Her partner’s presence barely registered. It seemed like he was there just to highlight her beauty. But in the closing moments of the number, when she laid on the stage and he raised himself above her in a handstand, their eyes fixed on one another, then I took notice.
I cannot fathom the level of strength and control it took to lower himself down the way he did, slow and curving his body with the flexibility of a cobra. He made contact with her chin to chin, chest to chest, then hip to hip, until they were connected from head to toe and he moved with her in a way that wasn’t overtly sexual, but it was. And the way she moved with him left my throat dry. No different from a man crawling through the desert desperate for water.
I didn’t even watch when the next dancer took the stage for the final performance. Didn’t come back to my senses until the curtain lifted again and the crowd began clapping and getting up to give the troupe a well-deserved standing ovation.
I lifted Olivia up so she could see over the adults, and saw Skylar’s teary-eyed smile when she caught sight of Olivia waving frantically.
Olivia didn’t stop clapping until long after the curtain came down and just about everyone else cleared out of the aisles around us.
“The tulips, Daddy!”
I reached down to where I’d carefully placed the bouquet under my seat. “I don’t know how this works, baby girl. We might have to save these until tomorrow.”
“No.” She fixed me with the most earnest expression. “I have to see her now.”
And right on cue, Skylar and some of the other dancers came back out to see the few friends and family members who lingered.
Skylar made her way over with her dance partner and another performer. “This is the best surprise ever!” She wrapped her arms around Olivia and then looked back up to her friends. “Pilar, Misha…This is my Olivia. And this is Leo, her father.”
I take another sip and replay the way she said it: my Olivia. Maybe the scotch is responsible for mellowing me out, but I come to the conclusion that I like it. I like the way Skylar makes my daughter feel singled-out and special.
Olivia. I shake my head at that kid’s sometimes awkward, sometimes impeccable timing. Just as I was about to say my hellos and compliment them on the show, Olivia poked Skylar’s dance partner in the side and said, “Are you Skylar’s boyfriend?”
“Olivia!” Shaking my head in embarrassment, I looked to the guy Misha and apologized on behalf of my big-mouthed daughter even though I was secretly glad she’d asked. I was curious to know the answer to that question myself.
Skylar’s cheeks turned red as her friends busted out laughing. Misha said, “No, sweetie. She’s gorgeous and she danced like a star tonight, but sadly, she’s just not my type.”
Olivia answered with a simple, oh, obviously confused.
And I hate to admit it, but his answer made my night.
I cleared my throat and handed her the flowers. “These are for you.” Looking to her friends to mask my own discomfort, I added, “You were all amazing. It was a great show.”
Skylar crouched down. “Did you like it, Libs?”
Olivia answered her while twirling in a circle, “I loved it!”
When Grace came over with her man and hugged Sky, I decided we should go. I was feeling things that weren’t necessarily new when it came to Skylar, but the force of my emotions were something new and confusing, and it felt wrong.
Sucking the last drop from my glass, I signal the flight attendant for another drink.
She’ll never be my Skylar.
It can’t happen.
I need to forget about her, too.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Skylar
The weekend started out great.
I was riding high after our show Thursday night. I even caved in and went out dancing with my friends at some new club downtown. I skipped the martinis this time, though. I didn’t need the liquid courage and I was practically walking on air after killing it with Misha in our duet.
When I first saw Olivia and Leo in the crowd, I was beyond shocked. I never breathed a word of it to Olivia, knowing she’d hound her dad about coming. And I would never in a million years have invited Leo. I was so damn nervous before the show that it took me no less than five attempts to fasten my bra before I was successful. The thought of him watching me up there would have totally messed with my focus.
So it was a good thing I didn’t spot them until the curtain call. And then I was glad he came, not to mention a little bit emotional about it. It was a sweet thing to do for his little girl, but maybe it meant more. Things had changed between us since our road trip to my hometown. It was subtle—and who knows, maybe I was totally imagining it—but he was looking at me differently, studying me in a way that gave me a ridiculous sense of hope.
I’ve given up on pretending that I don’t want him. I dream about him, I want him, I love him.
And it’s not because he’s hot, or that he’s intelligent, or that he’s got his act together and he’s kind. It’s all of those things and so much more. When I see the way he interacts with Olivia, I can’t imagine there’s a man on the planet more caring and devoted than he is. I want to know what it feels like to have the love of a man like Leo Hale.
I was still riding high on Friday afternoon when I picked up a very excited Olivia from school and then raced back to the house to meet Sienna and Garth. Once they heard Leo was leaving Friday morning, they asked if they could tack an extra night onto their trip. Two nights? Sure. Piece of cake.
Not.
James is beyond adorable and I love, love, love him—don’t get me wrong—but he does not willingly take a bottle, as promised, and he doesn’t sleep anywhere close to four hours straight, as those two con artists led me to believe.
Last night was rough. James was up half the night and then finally went down for a snooze at six a.m. but Olivia woke up half an hour later, bright-eyed, bushy-tailed and ready to play with the baby. I put on a cartoon, begged her not to wake him and then nodded off with her on my lap, figuring that if she made a move I’d wake up. And it worked, I think.
I had big plans for Saturday, now that the weather finally got the memo that it was late April, but alas, we never made it out of the house. Between changing diapers, entertaining Olivia, and cleaning spit up off the couch, my clothes and the carpet because he did not like the baby formula or the breast milk Sienna pumped in advance—let’s just say I was dragging ass by noon.
By six o’clock I was back in my pajama shorts, wearing my one and only clean shirt while the rest of my clothes were in the washing machine. Me and Olivia had chocolate chip cookies for dinner, washed down with orange juice, and the poor thing was wiped out and in bed by eight-thirty after dancing and singing her little head off all day in an effort to entertain a very cranky James.
I’m not expecting anyone, so I should be mildly alarmed when I hear the front door open a few hours later, but I’ve just got no gas left in the tank.
I turn to see Leo surveying the disaster that was once his clean house. There are toys all over the living room, the sink is filled with dishes, and I probably look like I just went nine rounds with Rhonda Rousey.
“Hi,” I whisper from the couch.
“Hey.” He looks like he’s trying not to smile. “Rough night?”
“Not too bad.”
“Yeah?” He lets out a soft laugh. “Is he colicky or something?”
“He never was before. It’s like he won’t take the bottle from me for some reason.”
“And he usually takes one no problem?”
“I’ve seen Garth feed him a bottle and he guzzles it right down. Grandy, that’s Garth’s mother…her too. He’s just been so fussy. I’ve never seen him like this before.”
He pulls his collar away from his neck like he’s overheated or something. “I’m gonna go out on a limb here and guess that your sister is breast feeding him?”
I nod and then follow the path Leo’s eyes are taking. Jame
s is squirming around again, his mouth making an eager attempt to get at my boob. Great. I’m too tired to do anything but throw my head back in exhaustion.
“Poor little guy is just confused. You look just like his momma. Probably smell just like her too.” He comes closer and leans in to take him from me. “Can I give it a try?”
“Have at it.”
James looks like a peanut in Leo’s arms. He settles the two of them into the recliner, tests a drop of the warmed breastmilk on the inside of his wrist, and then eases the nipple into James’s mouth. I’m so tired I can barely focus, but I do see that James is looking up at Leo wide-eyed as he slurps the contents of the bottle down.
“That’s a good boy,” Leo whispers to James. “Yeah, you were starving little man, weren’t you?”
“Hey, what are doing home?”
“Race was over,” he says in a hushed tone. “I did my corporate duty. I’m all for networking but not so much for the glad-handing, ass-kissing BS that was going on down there.” He shifts James to lay on his chest and then rubs circles onto his back the same gentle way Sienna does it. His hand spans the width of James’s back, and no more than five seconds pass before Leo is rewarded with a big burp. “Best sound ever.”
I use every ounce of energy I have left to stand. “I’ll take him now. I should change his diaper before he nods off again.”
Leo shakes his head. “Just get the diaper bag for me. I want you to get some rest. I’ll change him and then finish this bottle off so he’s got a nice full belly.”
“I can’t let you do that. You must be tired after your trip.”
He gestures to where I’ve set up a pillow and blanket on the couch. “You lay down. I’m not tired. And I’m kind of loving this stroll down memory lane.” Breathing James in, he adds, “I haven’t held a baby in a long time.”
And I can see from the look on his face that he means it. Leo looks content. And even in this near-comatose state I’m in, I fight to keep my eyes open, transfixed by the sight of him cradling my nephew in his strong arms.
Fatherhood is sexy.
One last time I ask him, “Are you sure?”
“Hundred percent. Now lay down and get some rest.”
Part Three
Because the Night
Chapter Twenty-Three
Leo
I let out the breath I’ve been holding once she pulls the blanket up over her shoulders and closes her eyes. I smile when I can hear her breathing, even and deep, not five minutes later.
Standing up with James in my arms, I walk over to the love seat, doing my best not to trip over all the crap on the floor. He certainly gave her a run for her money.
Holding a baby is something I’ve missed, but cleaning poop out of all those nooks and crannies? Not so much.
“Hey, little James, you’re a stinker.” He’s smiling up at me as I smile back down and whisper to him, “You’re a cute little stinker, though, aren’t you?”
Yeah, diaper changes are all right. Just knowing you’re making a little guy like him dry and comfortable again makes the smell something you can tolerate with a smile.
“Did you give your Aunt Skylar a hard time?” He gurgles and reaches for his feet. “Looks like you did.”
I settle back into the recliner and let him finish off the rest of the bottle before I rest him on my chest and turn off the lamp.
“You must be just as tired as Sky is.” He lets out a little burp, and when I check I see that his eyes are closed. There’s one of those portable crib-playpen contraptions next to the couch where Sky is sleeping, but it doesn’t look all that comfortable and I’m not the least bit tired.
My eyes adjust to the darkness, so I can make out Skylar sleeping peacefully just a few feet away from where I’m sitting.
Does she have any idea how beautiful she is? I’ve never seen her looking so worn out and disheveled, and even in this state, she’s still the most desirable woman I’ve ever known.
When I saw James reaching his little hand up to touch her face and then the determined way he tried to get at her breast to feed, I felt a longing stir inside of me. Something primal, the most basic carnal need.
Poor thing was so tired she didn’t know what she looked like. She didn’t notice the wet spot his mouth left on her pink cotton tank top, the fabric so thin that I could see the outline of her nipple, pebbled and tight.
I want.
I want.
I want.
That’s what plays on repeat in my head when I’m around her. I want to suck her right there on that wet spot, lick her sweet tits and cup them in my hands. I want to wrap her long hair around my fist, lean her back so that I can run my tongue along the column of her neck. I want her to touch me, to press her hand between my legs and ease this ever-present ache in my cock. And I want to push inside of her, to take what I need and make her mine.
Is it so crazy? She’s almost twenty-two. She had to submit identification to get on the list of people who can pick Libs up from school, and yeah, I looked. So she’s not a kid, even though I’ve made a habit of calling her just that. And I’m twenty-nine. Seven years. Ok, almost eight years older. But is that so bad?
Damn, she just fits. I’ve been fighting my attraction to her since day one, been looking for faults that I just can’t find.
And then there’s Olivia. My daughter is crazy about her and I know the feeling is mutual. I hear the way Skylar speaks to my girl when she doesn’t know anyone is listening. She’s always looking to build her up, to shape her into the kind of person who loves herself, has confidence, and can handle whatever this life throws at you.
She’s a better mother to Olivia than Olivia’s mother ever was.
But therein lies the problem. Being with me means that Skylar will be taking on the role of Olivia’s mother. Can’t go back in time and date her like I would some other woman. She already has a strong bond with my daughter. She’s already a part of our family.
Being in a relationship with a single parent is different. I’m a package deal. Choice doesn’t factor into this. Any woman who’s in my life is in Olivia’s.
I’ll be taking away the future Skylar has mapped out for herself.
Someone took from me once. Doesn’t matter that it turned out well, that it turned out to be the best thing that ever happened to me. I won’t do that to Skylar. I won’t take from her because I know that she’ll give.
It’s just who she is.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Skylar
“Do I look all right?”
“If you’re asking me if you look like you hardly got any sleep this weekend, the answer is no. You look fine. What are you worried about?”
I shoot Leo a look. “I don’t want them to think I couldn’t handle it.”
I flick a dishtowel his way when he has the nerve to smirk, and the doorbell rings at the same time.
I sound like a squeaky mouse when I say, “They’re here!”
And the gig is up as soon as Garth and Sienna walk in the door and Olivia says, “James cry all the time.”
“Libs, he didn’t cry all the time.” Looking to my sister, I confess, “He wouldn’t take the bottle from me, Sienna. It got a little hairy.”
“Oh,” she rushes over to James and picks him up out of his seat. “Did you miss mommy? I missed you too!”
Garth shakes his head. “Next time he comes with us. Sienna talked about him nonstop, and she was crying last night because he was,” he uses air quotes, “so far away.” He moves to stand behind Sienna and kisses James’s head. “I missed you too, little guy.”
The picture the three of them make together leaves me welling up. They are a family. They don’t need anyone but each other. I’m sure it’s just exhaustion, but I feel like an outsider in that moment.
I think Olivia senses my melancholy, and surprises me when she comes up and hugs me around my hips and tells me she loves me.
I love you.
She breaks my heart and build
s me up whenever she says it.
I turn just in time to see the troubled look on Leo’s face before he ducks out with some lame excuse about making a call for work.
It’s Sunday.
He’s not working.
He doesn’t like the close attachment Olivia has formed with me, that’s what I think. I get the feeling that it worries him. Or maybe it brings up a slew of painful memories related to his late wife.
Yeah, I’m thinking now is not the time to tell him what Olivia’s teacher said after school on Friday.
He’s missing in action for the next twenty minutes as we pack James up, Sienna and Garth tell me about their time up in Presque Isle, and Olivia gets a few extra minutes to love on the baby before they head out.
He gave them a quick goodbye before he left. He wasn’t rude or anything, but it’s awkward now. Something is different, something’s off. But I use his absence as an opportunity to make sure I’ve set Olivia straight.
“Libs, come sit for a minute.” She snuggles in next to me on the couch. “Remember what we talked about the other day after school, right?”
She won’t answer. She’s too busy scowling.
“I miss my mom, too. I understand what it’s like.”
“I want a mommy like Sarah and Clementine and Anna have mommies.”
I feel like telling her you do not want a mom like Sarah’s, but that’s beside the point. “It’s hard, I get that. But you are soooo lucky, Libs. You have the best dad. He loves you so much.”
She wraps her arms around my waist. “And I have you.”
I squeeze her right back. “You do have me. And if anyone asks, you can tell them I’m your special person. Just like you’re super special to me.”
She takes a deep breath, my stoic little sweetie. “But I can’t tell people you’re my mommy.”