2 Times the Bliss

by Sapphire Knight

  She agrees. “I just wish she’d move here then I could be here with you all the time.”

  “You’re not the only one...” I’d do anything to have her back and both my girls with me all the time. There has to be some way I can make it happen, but she pushed me away again. I tried kissing her, and she said she couldn’t do it. Was that at the moment, or ever? At this rate, I’ll never know. It’s time I stop being so damn patient and show her she’s mine—that she always has been.

  “So what color should this room of yours be painted, anyhow?” I ask, attempting to change the subject once again. Thankfully, she goes with it and starts spouting off how she plans on decorating everything.

  Sunshine

  I’ve avoided Nathanial for two weeks now. It’s been tough, too because he’s quite persistent. He keeps leaving me messages that we need to talk, but what could be so pressing? I’ve asked Sashy about it, and she claims to know nothing. I can’t be around Nate, however, or else I’ll give in to my desire for him. It may seem so simple to others that I want him, and I should just go for it, but it’s not.

  I kept his daughter a secret from him. If anything, Nathan should hate me for it. I’d expect that much from him, and I feel like I deserve it to an extent. Yet somehow, he doesn’t. In fact, I’d say it’s the opposite. He doesn’t act even remotely close to despising me.

  Nathan’s a better person than I am. If the roles were reversed, I’d be sick with rage. But he’s not even in the slightest, and all it does is draw me to him even more. So much time has passed for us; of course, he won’t love me the same way as I love him, as I always have.

  I was completely caught off guard by that kiss in my parents’ driveway a few weeks ago. If I’m honest, it scared me. I could fall so easily all over Nathanial Owens, and my heart would get trampled on in the end. I can’t be a hot mess for Sashy; I have to be strong like I’ve always been. Nate and I are in a spot where we can co-parent our daughter. I know if I start mixing in intimate feelings, then it can easily come to a screeching halt in no time. I can’t wreck the chance for Sashy to have us both be civil, and in her life as a positive influence.

  I need to figure out a way to move past Nate—somehow—no matter how difficult that task may be. I have to figure it out. I was recently asked on a date by a colleague’s son. Maybe I should take him up on it. Going out with someone couldn’t hurt, after all. Maybe it’ll help me realize that these feelings I’ve been harboring for Nate for so many years can be replaced by another man.

  Digging my cell free from my Dooney and Bourke satchel, I turn it on and pull up the potential date’s number. His name is Dan. How very unsurprising. I’m already let down, and I haven’t even been out with him yet. I’ve met him in passing at a few of the firm's gatherings. We have a holiday and a spring social for our families each year, and I distinctly remember meeting this guy at more than one of them. He’s handsome but has never really stood out to me. Then again, men rarely do when they’re not Nathanial Owens.

  I shoot off a text, letting him know that his father gave me his number. I include with the message about how he’d asked if I wanted to go out sometime if I was free.

  He promptly texts back that he is indeed interested, and we go from there, setting up a day and time. We opt for Friday, as I know Sashy will be with her dad. I won’t have to worry about my parents discovering I’m out on a date, as they would if my daughter were to end up at their house.

  About twenty minutes pass, and I text him back to cancel our plans. There’s no way I’m dating this guy—for a multitude of reasons I decide. Number one is that I still love Nathan. No man has made me feel differently over the years, so they most likely won’t be able to now. Another reason is what if it makes Nate upset? The last thing I want to do is make it harder than it already is to be around him. I should move on; I know it. But now’s obviously not the right time, if ever.

  Maybe I should just bring it up to Nate and see what he says. He’s been in Sashy’s life for months now. Surely he won’t care if I date; he hasn’t mentioned it in the past. Ugh, but then I have to feel the letdown associated with it if that’s the case. My life is ridiculously complicated right now.

  I grab my phone again and pull up his name. What the hell, I may as well bite the bullet and go for it. I type out a text, biting my lip with each word. I hit send and hold my breath.

  Me: Just checking in on what time you’ll be here Friday. I’m thinking about going on a date and don’t want to leave here too early.

  Nathanial Owens: Why would you go on a date?

  His response is instant and so Nate. I can almost hear him say it, reminding me of when we were teens. He’d look at me crazy and make it sound like it’s the dumbest idea I’ve come up with. He did this when we were adolescents, and I’d try to talk to him about another boy. Part of me is glad to see he still cares, even if he tries to come off nonchalant about it. Ready to dig in a bit further, I type out my reply.

  Me: Lonely. Adulting sucks sometimes, and I like to relax after a tough case.

  Nathanial Owens: Take a bath, drink wine, and call your mom. There, problem solved.

  “Hmm.” I read his words and think.

  Nate, Nate, Nate. Such a problem solver...and is it wrong that his proper use of punctuation excites me?

  How do I tell him that I need some dick in my life, after rarely having it? We’re both adults; maybe I should just say screw it and go for it a second time? I was expecting him to become a little huffy puffy with my lonely comment, but maybe he’s not as jealous as he used to be. He’d played it off as older brother affections with me. I saw it for what it really was, though, and enjoyed every moment of his protectiveness.

  Me: I need a man for what I’d like to do to relax. It’s just a date and some fun time. No big deal, you know. I don’t want to have him around when our daughter will be home though, so please let me know a good time to have my booty call.

  I release a hoot of triumph and follow it with a devious snicker. It would drive the Nate I used to know crazy if I referenced a booty call. He couldn’t stand it before, and I’d secretly revel in his overbearing alpha ways to prove he was enough for me. It’d usually end up with him playing a game of football with a bunch of guys, and he’d tackle the hell out of them. He’d rip his shirt off at some point and gain every female in the vicinity’s attention, causing me to cling to his side like glue.

  We’d both end up with what we wanted, in a sense, though he never took it a step further, until the end. We’d kissed. And then the day I’d moved away he’d taken my virginity. I was completely sprung on him like nobody’s business. Too bad it couldn’t last, or no telling how our relationship would’ve evolved further than it has today.

  I wait for what feels like forever, randomly checking my phone throughout the day. No matter how many times I turn it on and click his name, no response appears. It’s bothering me so much that he never replied. It makes me want to call him and demand what the hell is going on. You shouldn’t just leave someone hanging like that. Doesn’t that stubborn man know text etiquette? You should always reply with something, even if it’s a smiley face or an “I’m busy.” If he were anyone else, I’d be concerned, but it’s Nate, so he probably forgot his phone at home or something.

  Damn. I was hoping to get something out of him with it, but maybe he thinks I’m being dumb?

  Thankfully, my secretary interrupts my internal monologue and distracting thoughts. “Miss Simmons, you have a call on line four. It’s a new client your father recommended you.”

  “Thanks, what was the name?”

  “It’s a Mrs. Sanchez.”

  “Okay, did she happen to mention if it was a pro bono or anything else?”

  “No, she did talk to me some, though. She said that she’s worried for her daughter’s citizenship. She and her husband recently went through the proper channels to legally immigrate to the United States. She wants to make sure they didn’t miss anything with their daughter
immigrating legally as well. Their previous lawyer wasn’t very good, and your father recommended you take a look at things for their family.”

  “Wow, good for them, doing it the right way! Thank you for finding out so much information. You know I prefer answering these calls with a little background information.”

  “Yes ma’am, no problem.” She flashes a smile and leaves my office.

  I practice family law, but I also offer some pro bono services, depending on the situation. Take the high school where Nathan works, for example. They don’t have a big budget so I help them out at no charge wherever I can. In other circumstances like immigration or adoption, I try to offer discounted or free services. It’s important that people follow the law and realize it’s not too overwhelming with others willing to assist. It’s my way to help people and give back. My regular clients pay well, so I’m fortunate enough to be able to aid others this way.

  With one more glance at my unanswered text message to Nate, I pick up my desk phone and get to work.

  ***

  My day goes by fairly quickly, and in no time, it seems, I’m walking through my front door. The house is usually quiet; Sashy does her homework at my parents’ after her classes. Unless she’s in a sport that has after school practice, then I pick her up on my way home. Right now, her practices are in the morning, so she gets out at the regular time. After homework and dinner, my mom drops her off over here, which is usually around the time I get home. It’s been that way for the past two years, and it’s worked perfectly for us.

  Today, however, my house is full of activity. The smell hits me first when I open the door. It reminds me of steak and my mouth waters at the thought of eating grilled steak. Next, it’s my daughter’s laughter, followed by a deeper baritone. I’d know that laugh anywhere, though why he’s here and in my house, I have no clue. Nate’s supposed to pick Sashy up on Friday, and it’s only Wednesday.

  The kitchen radio lightly croons a country song, playing my favorite station. I can’t help but feel like I’m a little lost as to what’s going on. Part of me aches inside at finding our home like this. The house should be loud with laughter and filled with scents of food every day, but it’s not. It sucks wanting something you can’t easily have. As a parent, I strive to give Sashy what’s best for her, but I can’t snap my fingers and give her a normal family.

  “Sash?” I call.

  Stepping inside farther, I hang my briefcase and laptop bag in the family room we have right off the entry. I usually put them in my office, but I’m too curious to waste precious time putting them away. I want to be a part of whatever’s happening with my daughter and Nathan.

  “We’re in the kitchen, Momma!” she hollers back.

  There’s clanging like a fork landing in the sink as I make my way to where all the action is.

  “What’s going on?” I question as I round the partitioning wall from the hallway.

  Smells of juicy grilled steak and baked ranch potatoes hit me harder in here. My stomach growls loudly. I’m starving. I didn’t eat much today from being on pins and needles waiting for Nate to text me back.

  I’m met with matching grins from Natasha and Nate. They seem entirely too pleased with themselves this evening. Nate moves to pour me a healthy glass of wine and hands it over.

  I graciously accept, taking a hefty gulp.

  My mind and nerves are going haywire having him here and in my space like this. “It smells delicious…did you cook?”

  He nods. “Yeah. I hope it’s okay? I stopped by the store earlier and picked up a few things so we could have dinner.”

  Natasha interrupts, beaming a bright, excited smile. I’d swear her dad hung the moon with the way she already loves him like she does. Kids have the biggest hearts, and they forgive so easily. My daughter’s living proof of that. She could be heartbroken that I kept her father a secret, and yet she chooses the opposite. She’s excited and happy. I love her so much. “Are you kidding? It’s awesome.”

  With a grin, I sit on the barstool next to her. “Agreed.”

  Nate shakes his head. “Up you go, woman. The table’s all ready. We were waiting for you to eat.”

  My brow lifts, eyes widening as I take in everything set up behind me. There are three place settings at the eat-in kitchen’s round table. It’s dressed up with a tablecloth, placemats, folded napkins, and a bouquet of fresh flowers. I didn’t know we owned a tablecloth for this table. Clearly, there was thought put into all of this, and I’m definitely grateful for it.

  People don’t realize how hectic life is when you’re a working mom. We’re going nonstop most of every day it seems. To have a sit-down dinner that isn’t designated as a family night, and midweek is a pleasant surprise. My mouth waters at the thought of grilled steak for dinner. This man knows the way to my heart it would appear.

  I carry my wine and to sit in my normal spot. “I’m hungry. This all looks so nice. Thanks, guys.”

  “Natasha went ahead and set the table…she made it all look good. I brought the food,” Nate murmurs and winks at our daughter.

  Sashy speaks up. “And the flowers, don’t forget those. Dad said it’s important that a lady gets flowers. He said especially for no reason at all, just random.”

  I agree with a nod, staring at the blooms in the middle of the table. “Well, he’s right.”

  I’m attempting to remember the last time I got flowers and am coming up short. Though, I suppose I’d need a relationship to be in on that perk. They really brighten up the table. I should buy some flowers more often, just to add a splash of color in here.

  “I didn’t know Hydrangea was your favorite flower,” she continues. “I always thought it was lilies.”

  I flash her a small smile as Nate joins us again. He places a large platter filled with juicy steak and seasoned, baked ranch potatoes before us.

  “I like lilies too, but these have always been my favorite.” I signal to the short vase overfilled with big blooms. Each round cluster is clad with a ton of small white, light pink and baby blue petals. It’s been forever since I’ve had them fresh cut and they bring me a small sense of delight. It helps a lot knowing that Nate remembered too. He really went out of his way with this. I’m filled with happiness, and all I can do is beam widely like a goofball.

  Nate takes my right hand in his and Natasha’s with his left. He bows his head, and we follow suit doing the same. Taking his cue, we grow quiet, being respectful as he recites the Lord’s Prayer. Nathan’s words are to thank Him for this food, as well as the people surrounding it.

  The prayer reminds me of when we were kids, together at his house. Nate’s family didn’t eat until they’d recited it. Even in school, the three of them would pray before eating their lunch. It wasn’t long before their friends took to it and joined in as well. There was always this sense of thankfulness and the community surrounding the boys.

  I can’t believe my parents wanted me to keep my daughter away from Nathan and his family. They’re good people. How could I ever forget that? They always have been, and I was an idiot not to realize it when I was younger and stand up to my parents. Natasha should’ve been raised up with their values as well as my own.

  We dig in, and the food is delicious. Maybe it tastes better than usual to me because I know who prepared it. Regardless, it’s awesome not having to do anything, but just be present and enjoy it. Throughout the evening, I find myself wishing more and more that this was every night for us. We feel like an actual family. While I thought I’d wanted something like this before, I had no idea how desperately I need it. I don’t want to miss out on anymore with these two. They mean the world to me.

  “This is so wonderful, thank you,” I compliment for probably the tenth time this evening. Sashy bops her head while Nate grins.

  “You mentioned being lonely earlier in your message. Since you’ve been stubborn about coming to the ranch with Natasha, I figured it was a good idea to come here.” He shrugs.

  Natasha pick
s up on his comment and points out, “Wait, my mom said she’s lonely?”

  My cheeks heat with all the attention focused my way. I don’t want her aware of me feeling like that. “It’s no big deal, comes with the territory.” I try to wave it off.

  Nate’s intense stare tells me that I’m not fooling him in the slightest. Though he can’t be lonely as well—a hot guy like him, who was working as a stripper not too long ago? I doubt he’s at a loss for female company any night of the week.

  The thought of him with other women has my throat suddenly feeling dry. I down the rest of my wine, attempting to chase it all away. Jealousy claws at me inside, not wanting him to have a special lady in his life. I want to be the one warming his bed, not anyone else. With him around, it’s only intensified those feelings, and I crave him more than ever.

  He said he’s building his house with multiple bedrooms and that I’ll always be welcome to stay in one. Does that mean he has someone in mind? Oh God, I couldn’t sleep in a house where he’s lying beside another woman. I’d go crazy inside, no doubt in my mind.

  “I need more wine.” I practically jump from the table, needing more alcohol in my system to deal with my thoughts.

  Rushing to the fridge, I busy myself pouring wine and then head to the sink for the dishes. I have to do something to get Nathan and other women off my mind. Scrubbing should help with that. At least, I hope it will. Maybe it’s time I try dating again, after all. I need a boyfriend stat, or heaven forbid, I may become that stalker ex you’ve always been warned about.

  Nate

  Sunshine said she wanted a date. I damn sure wasn’t going to allow some stuck-up work buddy of hers take her out. If that entails having to cancel the occasional afternoon football practice to make myself known around her house, then so be it. I’ll do it if it means I can let potential suiters know I’m there and not going anywhere. Hell, Sunshine’s lucky I don’t blacken those stuck-up dudes eyes’ for stepping foot around my girls.