“My penis is hard,” Chase mumbles, his eyes laced with humor and mischief and so completely focused on my sister.
“Oh, well, then this is you,” she states, putting her finger down and sticking up her pinky.
Chase barks out a laugh. “Oh, young Gabby, how I’ve missed you,” Chase says with a rueful shake of his head.
My sister smiles sweetly. “I’ve missed you too, Chase. But at this range, I’m sure to hit my target.”
The look on Chase’s face is priceless. It’s part shock, part admiration, and maybe even a little part turned on. I don’t want to think about the latter, though.
“What’s this?” Gabby asks, picking up a manila folder from the table.
“That’s a handful of resumes that Chase got from an employment agency,” Harrison replies, slowly moving his hand up my hip and bringing it around to rest on my belly.
“Resumes?” I ask, suddenly feeling a little breathless. I should probably move from his lap, but I can’t seem to find the strength or the gumption to make my legs work.
“Yeah, I’m hiring an admin assistant. We’ve got the front desk covered, but I want some help in back. Filing, payroll, and some of the daily duties for both locations. I have a baby on the way, and want to be as much a part of it as possible,” he says, flexing his hand over my abdomen and pulling me back into his chest. The hug is warm and comforting, even though I’m pressed against a wall of hard muscle.
“What about Chase?” I ask, glancing over to his best friend. Our best friend. For almost all my adult life, Chase has been there, a part of it. When I started dating Harrison, I inherited Chase too. I didn’t realize how much I’ve missed him until this moment. Until he’s back here, laughing and carrying on with the rest of us. It goes to prove how hard divorce is. You not only lose your spouse, but everyone they’re connected with as well.
“You okay?” Harrison asks, placing his finger under my chin and turning my face.
I can’t answer without risking tears, so I just nod and swallow the emotions. I can tell he doesn’t buy it. This man knows me, probably better than I know myself. “I’ve just missed this,” I finally whisper, hopefully low enough that no one else but Harrison hears.
He seems to understand right away and gives me a small smile. “You’re not the only one,” he whispers back, kissing my cheek and moving my head to rest on his shoulder.
“To answer your question, I’m not going anywhere. I’m still manager, but my focus for a while is going to be the new locations. I’ll drive back and forth, but I’ll be spending most of my time in Dalton. It’s only a thirty-minute drive. Plus, I’ll have some of my clients to take care of here,” Chase adds, referring to the Fair Lakes location of All Fit. “And when the Lakeview location is further along, I’ll do what I have to there too,” he adds, referring to the location to the south.
“I know her,” Gabby says, pulling a resume out of the pile and sliding it over to Harrison. I glance down and see the name Gina Laughlin. While it sounds vaguely familiar, nothing immediately jumps out at me. Chase reaches over and grabs the paper, glancing at it, as Gabby continues. “We went to college together. You remember, right, Gwen? She came home one Thanksgiving with me when her parents were off on some trip.”
My mind digs for the memory and comes up with a shorter brunette with a pleasant smile and big dark eyes. “I think so. She stayed the holiday weekend with you at Mom and Dad’s, right? Short dark hair and brown eyes?”
“Yep, that was her. I’ve only seen her once or twice since college. Our jobs just took us in different directions, but I remember she was working for her dad. I think he owned a gym, actually,” she says, grabbing the resume from Chase’s hands and giving it a quick glance. “Yep, Al’s Gym in Dalton.”
“That’s the one that closed down when we started our plans for the expansion,” Chase confirms, leaning toward my sister and glancing at the paper over her shoulder.
She stills just as he rests his chin on her shoulder. “Did you just sniff me?”
“You smell like fruit pie,” he whispers back, taking another big whiff of my sister’s neck.
Gabby rolls her eyes, places her hand on his forehead, and pushes. Hard. Chase flies back, but stays in his seat, laughing at the rise he got from my sister.
“Are you two done?” Harrison asks, unable to mask the humor in his voice.
“Nope, never. I’ll torture her until the day I die,” Chase states, a proud smile on his face.
“That’ll be a lot sooner than expected if you keep that shit up,” Gabby points out, giving him a glare. Chase winks at her, but lets her finish reviewing the resume. “I think she’d be a great candidate.”
“I agree. She has experience, and it’s in the same field. And it doesn’t look like she’s found a job yet, so she could be available to start right away,” Harrison adds, adjusting me on his leg. When he does, my rear comes in contact with his erection. His very large, very hard erection. My entire body tightens, and I can tell the moment he notices. “See what you still do to me?” he whispers in my ear, his warm breath sending my body into hypersensitive overdrive. Suddenly, I can feel everything. His hands, his leg, his erection, and it’s all too much. Too much want, too much desire, too much confusion, because even though we’ve discussed trying again, at a much slower pace, I can’t deny the way my body reacts to him. How it has always reacted to him.
I stand up quickly; he lets me go this time. Without trying to draw attention to myself, I go to the cabinet and retrieve a glass, filling it with water. After a long drink, I turn back to the table and find his eyes on me. Instead of discussing Gina and the rest of the applicants, he’s watching me with so much need and desire that my knees almost buckle right then and there.
The truth is, I’m not sure how much longer I can deny the way I feel for him. As confusing as this is, I just want to go back to the way things were. Back when love was easy and everything was right in the world. Now, everything is hard and confusing, and I realize just how weak I am when it comes to Harrison Drake. He’s always been my biggest weakness. He’s practically moving in with me, fighting to get his life and family back.
Me.
He’s fighting for me.
And I don’t want to fight him anymore.
I don’t want to deny it.
I want that life too.
With him.
Us.
I just pray we don’t destroy us in the process.
It’s Friday and my afternoon class all works to finish their Letter X worksheet, outlining the letter and writing it repeatedly on the lines provided, as well as coloring the large X-ray picture. I continue to watch, helping my little students make sure they properly hold the pencil and execute the letter correctly. We’ve been working hard on keeping the letters within their respective lines, but sometimes it’s fruitless when it comes to four-year-olds.
A knock sounds at my door, pulling my attention away from Riley and her super big X’s that spill off the pages. When I glance up, I see our school receptionist, Miss Courtney, carrying a big bouquet of flowers and a bright smile. “These just arrived for you, Mrs. Drake,” she says proudly as she enters my classroom and sets them on my small desk.
“Oh, uh, thank you,” I reply, praying she doesn’t question the flowers.
I know how it looks. Recently divorced woman receives flowers at her job. She must be seeing someone new, right? Little do they know these aren’t from someone new. I already know who they’re from. He was always sending me flowers for my birthday, our anniversary, or just because, especially in the beginning. When I landed my first teaching job, he sent me flowers every Monday for the entire year, even though we really couldn’t afford it. They were smaller bouquets than this one, but the message and meaning were always the same.
“Are you seeing someone new?” Courtney asks, a beaming smile on her face.
Yep, called it.
“Oh, no no. I’m sure these are from my… parents,” I reply,
taking the card and sticking it into my pocket. I know the moment I lift the flap her eyes will be peeking over my shoulder in anticipation.
“Your parents sent you red and white roses with gorgeous orange lilies?” Courtney rolls her eyes. “Okay, fine, keep your secret, but just know that this is a small town. We’ll find out who he is soon enough,” she replies with an ornery grin before heading out of my classroom, closing the door as she goes.
My stomach rolls and I can’t be completely sure it’s from the pregnancy. The truth is this is a small town and it won’t be long before everyone knows. Knows about Harrison. Knows about the baby. Knows that he’s been living in my spare bedroom since the weekend and is showing no signs of leaving. Ever.
I fight the urge to pull the card from my pocket and return to my kids. Most of them have lost focus on their worksheet and are either talking or dancing in their chair. It takes me a few minutes, but I regain control of my class following our interruption, and they’re all finishing up their worksheets.
“Mrs. Drake, who are those from?” one of my students, Kimber, asks.
“A friend,” I reply with a smile.
“Is your friend my daddy? He sends flowers to my mommy,” she adds, handing in her finished worksheet.
“No, not from your daddy. I’m happy that your daddy sends your mommy flowers, though. I bet that really brightens her day.”
Kimber nods frantically. “She brings them home and puts them on the table. Then Daddy kisses her when he comes home,” she tells me, giggling.
“Kisses are gross!” Thomas declares as he sets his sheet in the tray. “Girls have cooties!”
“We do not,” Kimber argues, placing her hands on her hips and stomping her foot.
I fight the smile that threatens to spread across my face. “No one has cooties,” I tell them gently. “Why don’t you both go over to the reading rug and pick out a book. As soon as everyone is done, we’ll have a snack and take our restroom break.”
The kids scurry off, each picking a book to look at while they wait for their classmates. Before long, the entire group has completed their worksheet and is sitting on the rug. I get today’s snack ready, setting the cheese and crackers at each chair, as well as a carton of milk. I give them my full attention, but it’s hard. The small envelope and card are practically burning a hole in my pocket. I’m dying to know what he wrote, but I won’t give in until my students are safely tucked away in their parents’ vehicles and on their way home.
Finally, at 3:10 p.m., the bell rings. I make sure all of today’s work is in their take-home folders and placed in their book bags. When the final child is released to their ride, then and only then do I finally give in to the excitement. With my classroom door firmly shut, I head over to my desk, taking my first real opportunity to smell the gorgeous blooms that were delivered this afternoon. Roses and lilies—two of my favorites, and he knows it. A smile breaks out on my lips as I pull the card from my pocket and take the seat behind my desk.
My dearest Winnie,
I hope your day was as amazing as you.
Your presence is requested at The Corner Grill.
Six o’clock.
Date night with my two favorite people in the whole world.
You and Peanut.
Until I see you, my love.
H
I can’t help but notice he’s already referring to our unborn child as a person. Our little person. The one we created together. Yeah, the circumstances of the conception are a bit scandalous for this small town, but it doesn’t matter. Nothing matters. Just us.
Our little family.
I shove the card into my desk drawer and gather up my belongings, all while wearing a smile on my face. The Corner Grill has always been a favorite of mine. That’s something he’d remember too. I have to admit, Harrison is doing quite well on this whole “dating” thing. My favorite flowers, and now my favorite restaurant.
It’s hard to juggle my bag and the vase of flowers, but I manage and slip out the side door of the school, effectively avoiding any of the other teachers at our small preschool through fifth-grade school. Lady luck must be on my side as I belt in the vase to the passenger seat of my newly acquired rental car, hop behind the wheel, and pull out of our lot. Surely word has gotten around to my colleagues that I had a special delivery this afternoon. It was only a matter of time before everyone and their brother “dropped in” for a friendly Friday after-school chat.
Slowly, so that I don’t spill the water, I make my way to my house, loving the fragrant scent of flowers that fill the car. You couldn’t scrape my smile off my face with a putty knife. When I pull into the driveway, I notice Harrison’s truck is gone. Since I went back to work Wednesday, he did as well, but he’s almost always arriving home at the same time I have been.
I park in my spot and climb out. I slip around and unlock the back door of the house, leaving it open to let the spring breeze in, and head back out to retrieve the vase. My nose instantly drops down as I inhale such a wonderful scent. Oh, yes, he definitely earned a few bonus points for this one. They display beautifully in the center of the table, especially when the sunlight hits the pink glass.
Heading back to my bedroom, I think about tonight. What does my ex-husband have planned? Is it just dinner or will there be something afterward?
And then my mind goes to afterward.
Our relationship hasn’t progressed past a few stolen pecks on the cheek or brushes across my lips. He’s held my hand and has welcomed me into his arms for snuggling during a movie last night, but that’s it. I know he still wants me—the proof was plastered on my leg earlier in the week—but he hasn’t acted on anything or led me to believe more is coming soon.
Do I want more?
I’m pretty sure that answer is yes, but how soon, and will I regret it when it happens?
I never really regretted it when we fell into bed mere minutes after our divorce was final, but how can I regret something that created something so wonderful? Even after we got past the awkward stage and he left, I never felt an ounce of guilt or remorse. Instead, I felt a slight bit of comfort and a little bit of closure.
Of course, all that has been thrown out the window now, hasn’t it?
After making sure the door is locked, I head to my bedroom, strip off my work clothes, and move to the bathroom. The garden tub is calling me, and I’m fortunate to have plenty of time to get ready for the evening. The room starts to fill with the calming scent of lavender as I drop a bath bomb in and grab a fresh razor. Making sure my hair is up and won’t get wet, I slowly slide into the warm water, grateful for this extra time. I can’t stay in long, knowing I had to give up hot baths when I became pregnant, so I make sure the water is at a slightly cooler temperature than normal. Just enough that I’m still able to relax. It’s heaven.
Before I finish my bath, I take a few minutes to shave my legs, armpits, and other lady bits, as well as run my loofah and body wash over every square inch of my body. When I deem myself finished, I carefully step out, mindful of the baby nestled in my lower abdomen. After smearing lotion everywhere, I head to the closet for tonight’s outfit. What exactly does one wear on a date with her ex-husband, with whom she happens to be having a child with?
Yeah, I don’t know either.
I settle on a pair of fitted jeans, wedge heels, and a blue flowy top. It has short sleeves, so I make sure to grab a black sweater too. By the time I’m completely ready, the alarm clock on my nightstand says 5:45. I also notice I haven’t heard Harrison come home. After securing my watch and throwing in the stud diamonds he bought me for our first anniversary, I head off in search of my date.
His room is empty.
Panic starts to set in.
Did he change his mind?
Move out without letting me know?
But when I spy his deodorant and aftershave sitting on top of the spare dresser, I know that he’s still here. Well, maybe not here here, but living here. Staying here. Whatever
.
When the clock hits 5:50, I realize I have a choice. I can wait here for him, assuming he’s coming to pick me up, or I can head out and meet him at the restaurant. His card didn’t indicate how I was getting to The Corner Grill, just that it starts at six. That must mean I’m supposed to meet him there.
Grabbing my purse and sweater, I lock up the house, head to my rental car, and back out of my driveway. It’s only a few minutes to the restaurant, so I arrive with just enough time to get inside before the stroke of six. With my shoulders square and a flutter of nerves tickling my stomach, I head inside.
To the man in the corner booth.
To our first official date.
I can’t wait.
Chapter 11
Harrison
I arrived early to ensure we could get a booth with privacy. This one in the corner is exactly that. I have a clear view of the door, and yet still tucked away in the back corner. Speaking of the door, I’ve had my eyes glued to it for the last fifteen minutes. Glancing at the clock, I see it’s six o’clock exactly. Wiping my sweaty palms on my jeans, my nerves kick in. What if she doesn’t show? Damn it, I knew I should have gone to the house and picked her up. I’m just about ready to reach for my phone to call her like the crazy stalker ex-husband that I’m becoming. What if she’s sick, what if something happened to the baby? I’m making myself sick with worry when the door opens and she walks in.
Winnie.
My eyes drink her in, taking notice of her fitted jeans, and the blue top that makes her tits look incredible. Not that they’re not already in a league of their own. I’ve read that with pregnancy, they’re going to get bigger. I bite back a groan just thinking about it. Shaking out of my thoughts, I stand to greet her before my cock makes it so it’s impossible to do so.
“You look beautiful,” I say, leaning in to place a kiss on her cheek. “How are you feeling?” I ask, my hand resting on her still flat belly.
Fair Lakes Series Box Set Page 11