by K. Street
“It smells good,” Tucker said as he carried Shayne into the kitchen and sat her in the same barstool she’d used at lunch.
“Thanks. It’ll be done in five.”
“Can I do anything?”
“I’ve got it, but thanks for the offer. Help yourself to whatever you want to drink,” I told him as I busied myself with removing the garlic bread from the oven.
He opened the fridge. “Do you want something?”
“Water is good.”
Tucker grabbed three bottles and placed them at the bar.
I listened to Shayne tell him all about her day while I transferred the food to the island. Then, I grabbed plates, silverware, and salad bowls.
“I think that’s everything. Anybody need anything else?” I asked.
“Can you grab me a knife, so I can cut up her spaghetti?”
“Sure,” I said and walked to the drawer to get one out.
“Thank you.”
I made my plate while Tucker made his and Shayne’s. We sat in the same seats we’d been in at lunchtime.
I watched Tucker twirl the pasta around the tines of his fork and take a bite and swallow.
He turned his head toward me. “Camryn, this is amazing.”
“It’s so yummy,” Shayne agreed.
“I’m glad you like it. There will be plenty left over. You guys can take some home.” I bumped shoulders with Shayne. “So, did you have fun today?”
“Yes. A lot. I like you.”
“You know what, kiddo? I like you, too.”
I glanced over Shayne’s head to find Tucker smiling at me.
Thank you, he mouthed.
You’re welcome, I mouthed back.
We finished eating while Shayne’s animated voice filled the silence. Tucker helped her down from her stool while I began to clear the dishes.
“I’ll help you clean up,” Tucker said.
“It’s fine. I’ve got it.”
“Yeah. Not happening. Why don’t you go put on the TV for Shayne, and then we’ll knock this out together?”
I stared at him, dumbfounded. “Where did you come from?”
“Camryn, I’m a grown-ass man. This is how it works.”
“I don’t think you understand.” I walked over to him and crooked my finger for him to come closer. When he leaned down, I whispered in his ear, “A man who helps with dishes, it’s so fucking hot. Like better than porn.”
I left him to stare after me.
“Come on, sweet girl, let’s find some cartoons.” It was late, but I had cable. Surely, Scooby-Doo was on.
After I got her settled, I went back into the kitchen to help Tucker. I turned on the hot water and added a bit of dish soap for the stuff that couldn’t go in the dishwasher.
Tucker came up behind me, one hand placed on either side, caging me in. “Better than porn, huh?” he spoke low against my ear. He ignored his cut, reached into the sudsy water, and covered my hands with his. “Should I assume your hands aren’t the only things getting wet?” His lips faintly brushed my neck before he stepped back.
Holy shit.
“That wasn’t nice.”
“The flush on your cheeks says otherwise,” he taunted.
I turned the faucet to cold, stuck my fingertips in the stream, and flicked water at him over my shoulder.
“Payback’s a bitch.” He chuckled.
I reached for a towel, pivoted, and stepped closer. “There,” I said while I dried his face. “All better?”
He leaned back to glance into the living room to peek at Shayne. Then, he pulled me into the alcove just off the kitchen and backed me against the dryer. Tucker nipped my bottom lip and then tugged it between his. One hand snaked around my waist while the other tilted my head, angling my mouth just how he wanted it.
“You’re like a fucking drug,” he whispered against my mouth. His tongue dived inside.
Like a match to a fuse, the spark of desire grew to a blazing inferno.
My hands fisted his shirt, and I held on for dear life as he kissed me senseless.
“Tucker.”
The sound of Shayne singing the Scooby-Doo theme song carried from the living room and broke through our sexual trance. We pulled away from each other, panting like we’d just run a marathon.
Tucker laughed and took a giant step back, almost looking sheepish. “We should finish up.”
“Definitely.”
We put away the food, and he rinsed the dishes while I loaded the dishwasher.
“Do you have plans next Saturday?” he asked while he rinsed the last plate.
“No. I don’t think so. Why?”
“I want to take you out to dinner.”
“Wait, so like a date?” I asked.
“Something like that.”
“Sure.” We were quiet for several beats, and then I added, “Thanks again … for taking care of Lucille.”
“You’re welcome.” He dried his hands on the dish towel. “We should probably get going.”
I grabbed the container of still-warm spaghetti I’d packed for them and gave it to Tucker. “Here, don’t forget this.”
“I can’t vouch for your car skills, but dinner was really good.”
“Anyone ever tell you that you’re a pain in the ass?” I teased.
“At least once a day.” Together, we walked into the living room. “Bug, tell Camryn good night. It’s bath time.”
“Okay.” She got up and walked over to where I stood.
I bent down, so I’d be at eye-level with her. Shayne’s small arms wrapped around my neck as she tightly hugged me. I wanted to freeze this moment, so I could make it last a little longer. Shayne pulled back, and I reluctantly released her.
“Thank you for painting my nails and for the spaghetti,” she told me.
“You’re welcome, sweetheart.” I stood, and Tucker reached for the door
He pulled it open, and Shayne bolted outside and across the lawn to their house. The motion detectors came on, illuminating the grass. Shayne danced in circles in the driveway.
“She’s a great kid,” I told him. “You’ve done an amazing job with her.”
“Thanks.” He reached into his back pocket and pulled out his phone. After he unlocked it, he gave it to me. “I need your number.”
I took it from him, entered my contact information, and passed it back to him.
A light breeze sent a strand of my hair over my face. Tucker reached to brush it away, and the pad of his thumb skated across my cheek, sending a shiver down my spine.
He leaned into me. “Good night, Camryn,” he whispered in my ear before he dropped his hand and walked away.
I closed the door and decided a bath sounded nice, so I went into the bathroom to fill the tub. I turned on the water and squirted bubble bath into the stream. While I waited, I stared at myself in the mirror, remembering earlier when Tucker’s large frame had filled so much of the space.
Languidly, I traced a finger over my lips. I thought about the way his mouth had felt against mine.
Damn … that man can kiss.
As soon as the thought entered my head, I started to wonder about all the other things he could do with that talented mouth of his. I shut the water off and slipped into the warmth. The light, airy sound of suds being disrupted echoed in my ears as I sank beneath them.
15
Tucker
For the first time in years, I’d asked a woman to dinner.
Everything about Camryn drove me wild. Her laugh, how that tinkling sound built into something beautiful and unrestrained. Her quirky sense of humor. The blush that crept into her cheeks whenever she got embarrassed. The smell of her skin. I wanted to take her to bed and bury myself inside her for days. And I wanted more days like today.
A feeling both foreign yet familiar nagged at me. It took several seconds to place it. Happiness. That was what this was.
I crossed the lawn between Camryn’s house and mine with a smile on my face. Shayne was w
aiting for me, twirling in the driveway without a care in the world.
“Did you have fun with Camryn today?” I asked as she stopped spinning and wobbled a bit. I reached out a hand to steady her.
“Yes. A lot.” She giggled.
I opened the door and motioned for Shayne to go inside. “You really like her, don’t you?”
“A whole bunch.”
Me, too, kiddo.
I kept that thought to myself though.
“Daddy, can we watch a movie?”
“After bath time. Can you go put this in the fridge, please?” I passed Shayne the container of leftover spaghetti Camryn had sent home with us.
“Okay.”
“I’m going to go start your bath.”
“Can I have a fizzy bath?” she hollered as she skipped into the kitchen.
“Not tonight.” It was the same answer I’d given her since I allowed it the first time.
I still felt like kicking myself in the ass for buying those damn things. Once you dropped the giant jawbreaker-looking object into the water, it would erupt like a little girl’s dream and my worst nightmare.
Shayne had wanted a unicorn one because it turned the bath water different colors and spewed glitter every-fucking-where. So, I had given in, completely unaware of the havoc that thing would wreak. Nash had given me so much shit the next day at work because my forearms sparkled like I’d rolled them in diamond dust.
Yeah … fizzy baths were strictly for Grammy’s house.
I started the water and poured bubble bath into the stream. Bubbles I could handle. I grabbed a towel and went to the laundry to toss it into the dryer.
Already in the bathroom, Shayne had begun to strip out of her clothes when I walked back in. “Look at all those bubbles. Do I have time to play for a little while?”
“Yes, just try to keep the water in the tub tonight.”
“Ah, man. I want to pretend I’m that guy from The Weather Channel.” She carefully slipped into the water.
The kid was obsessed with storms and Jim Cantore.
“Negative, Bug. Hurricanes happen outside, not in the bathroom, and don’t even think about starting the shower either.”
“But I need rain for a hurricane.”
“No hurricanes,” I said, attempting a firm tone.
“Fine,” she huffed. “But the last time wasn’t my fault, Daddy.”
“Is that right?” I asked, amused. “How did the bathroom get nearly flooded then?”
“My sandbags were useless against the storm surge.”
That was because the “sandbags” had actually been washcloths she’d wrapped around her naked Barbies, which she lined up on the edge of the tub. Not only had the floor gotten soaked, but she’d also cleaned out every washcloth from the damn towel closet.
I had no idea how she came up with this shit.
“You make me crazy, you know that?”
“Yep. But you love me.” She batted her eyes and smiled wide.
“I do. But I mean it … no pretending to be a force of nature. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
She was old enough to wash herself, but her hair was long, and she still needed help.
“Maybe I’ll pretend to be a sea creature.”
I shook my head as I walked out of the bathroom, knowing full well I’d end up mopping the floor. After I changed clothes, I went back to check on her. I stood just outside the doorway for a minute, listening to her play. Despite everything, the kid thrived. She was smart and funny, and she had the purest heart.
“Ready to wash your hair, Bug?” I asked gently. She hadn’t seen me, and I didn’t want to scare her.
“In a second. Come watch me play.” She pointed to the toilet.
I dropped the lid and took a seat, bracing my elbows on my knees.
“Do I have school tomorrow?”
“No. Tomorrow is Sunday.”
“We’re going to Grammy’s for Sunday supper, right?”
“Yes.”
“Daddy, do you think Camryn can come to supper at Grammy’s?”
“I’m sure she’s busy.”
“But maybe we could ask her to come sometime. I like her. She plays with me, and she’s really nice. And pretty. Don’t you think she’s pretty?”
Pretty was too plain a word for Camryn. Beautiful, exquisite, gorgeous. Those were much more fitting.
“Yes, I think she’s pretty.”
“Her mommy left, too.”
The comment took me by surprise.
“Shayne, your mommy didn’t leave you, baby. She died.”
“Yes, but she still left.” She didn’t look at me. Instead, she swam her naked Barbie through the water. “Camryn’s mommy didn’t die, but she left. She didn’t want to be her mommy anymore. Isn’t that so sad?”
“It is sad.” I wanted to know where all this was coming from. “Bug, did Camryn ask you about your mom?”
Camryn didn’t strike me as the type of person who would pump Shayne for information, but I had to ask.
“Nope.” She looked thoughtful. “I asked her if her mommy painted her nails when she was a little girl like me, and she said she didn’t have a mommy. I told her that is just silly because everybody has a mommy. But she said her mommy didn’t want to be a mommy anymore so she left,” she said matter-of-fact. Then, she gathered bubbles into her palm, tipped her head back, and spread the suds over her jaw and under her nose. “Look, I have a beard, just like you.”
I didn’t know what to make of Shayne’s news, but now wasn’t the time to dwell on it.
“You’re so silly.” I scooped up some bubbles and then blew them out of my open hand, making it rain soapsuds.
“Daddy.” She giggled.
“Time to wash your hair.”
She laid her head back into the water to wet the top while I grabbed the baby shampoo from the shelf. After squirting some into my hand, I knelt on the floor, and Shayne sat crisscross in the water with her back toward me.
She tilted her head back, hazel irises meeting mine. “Don’t get it in my eyes,” she reminded me.
“I won’t.”
“But, sometimes, you do.”
“I’ll be extra careful.”
Her lips pursed together as she considered my promise, and then she leaned forward. I gathered her wet hair and worked it into a lather. Afterward, I used a cup to rinse out the soap. My knees popped as I stood.
“What was that?”
“Just the sound of your daddy getting old.”
“You’re not old. Wait. How old are you?”
“Thirty.”
“That is only a little bit old.” She held her thumb and index finger about an inch apart. “I can count to one hundred fifty. Thirty comes near the beginning, so that makes you only a teeny pinch old.”
“I like your logic, kid. I’ll be right back. I’m going to get your towel from the dryer.”
“Hurry or else I will be cold,” she called after me.
Shayne stood with her arms in the air as soon as I stepped back into the bathroom.
“Press the stopper, Bug.”
She bent over to press the knob. Seconds later, water gurgled down the drain. Shayne thrust her arms back in the air, and I wrapped her in the warm, oversized cotton.
“It’s so toasty,” she said, snuggling into my neck.
“You’re so spoiled.”
“And you’re the best daddy in the whole wide world.”
I grabbed the brush from the counter, carried her into her room, and sat down on her bed with her in my lap. She nestled into me and let out a yawn.
“Sleepy?”
“Nope.”
Of course she wouldn’t admit it.
I squeezed the excess water from her hair and ran the brush through it. “All right, kiddo, time to get into your jammies.”
She hugged the towel to her and shoved off my lap.
I left her to it and went into the kitchen. It was an ice cream kind of night, so I reached into t
he freezer and pulled out the chocolate. Since the container was close enough to empty, I decided to forgo the bowl and grabbed two spoons from the silverware drawer. Then, I went to the living room.
Just as I turned on the television, Shayne came into the room, dragging her quilt in one hand and Wilbur clutched in the other. I set the ice cream carton on the end table and sat in the recliner.
“Did you remember to hang your towel up?”
“Oops. Hold this.” She gave me her blanket. “I’ll be right back.” Her small, bare feet smacked against the floor as she ran.
When she returned, I lifted her into my lap, arranging the blanket around us. “What do you want to watch, baby?”
“Beauty and the Beast.”
I flipped through the DVR, pushed play, and reached for the ice cream, passing a spoon to Shayne. Contentedly, we ate our dessert and watched the movie. After we finished, I set the box back on the table and raised the leg rest on the chair.
Shayne was engrossed in the television, her plush pig clenched to her chest. I pressed my lips to the crown of her head and inhaled her clean baby scent.
“Love you, Bug,” I whispered into her still-damp hair.
“Love you, Daddy,” she whispered back. Her head rested against my chest, and within a few minutes, she was fast asleep.
I thought back to what Shayne had said earlier. Judging Camryn’s mom would make me a hypocrite. Even though I couldn’t imagine life without my daughter, there had been a time when this was the last thing I ever wanted.
I held Shayne for a long time. Just to listen to her breathe. Life moved so damn fast, and I knew moments like this would become fewer.
When the movie was over, I carried my sleeping girl to her bed, tucked her in, and quietly kissed her good night.
I went into the kitchen, and just like always, the first thing my eyes settled on was the photograph on the fridge of the three of us together. There were pictures of Dani scattered throughout the house. Some of the three of us together while others were of Shayne and her mom.
But this one …
I couldn’t help but look at it several times a day.
The one that picked at the scars and never let them completely mend.
The one that served as a constant, tangible reminder.
Whenever I looked at it, I smelled the nauseating combination of cafeteria food and antiseptic. I heard the beeping monitors and background noise. I saw the panic, devastation, and longing in her eyes. I felt her life sift through my fingers like grains of sand. I tasted the saltiness of our tears as we tried like hell to console each other.