“Okay,” I call after him. Turning my attention back to Haley, I sigh. “As you were saying?”
“I made a decision. I’m going cold turkey. I’m not dating anyone for six months.”
Draping my arm over the steering wheel, I raise a brow. “You think you can pull that off?”
“I don’t know, but I have to do something. My track record is broken heart, broken heart, broken heart. Even if you think they don’t qualify.” She looks over her shoulder as Matt and Mia start down the slope. “I fall in love too easily. So, new rule: no talking to, dating, having dinner with, having sex with anyone for six months. Starting now.”
“I want to be all supportive, but I don’t think you can do it.” I chuckle. “You aren’t without a guy for three days at a time, Hay. How do you think you’ll make it six months?”
She sticks her hand out toward me. “Bet me.”
“What are we betting?”
“If I win, I get to name your baby with Neely.”
“What?” I ask, laughing hard. “You’re outta your mind.”
She shrugs. “And if you win, you get to pick the next three guys I date.”
Rubbing my hands together, I watch her confidence wane. “Deal.” I snatch her hand in mine and shake before she can reconsider.
“That looks like serious business,” Matt says as he and Mia approach. “Do I even want to know?”
I glance quickly at Mia. “Not right now. So what are you doing today, rascal?”
“We did the library this morning, and now we’re going for shaved ice.”
“News to me,” Haley says. “I thought we were going to your house and cleaning out your closet.”
Mia twists her face. “Maybe shaved ice and then the closet?”
“I think we can make that work,” Haley says. “Dane, I need ten bucks.”
Fishing in my back pocket for my wallet, I pull out the soft leather. A twenty goes from my palm to Haley’s.
“Dad, I was wondering something,” Mia says.
The wallet goes back in my pocket at a snail’s pace as I absorb the inkling of something behind Mia’s words. “What’s that?”
“Can we see Neely tonight?”
Just mentioning her sends a zing of excitement through my body. Mia catches this and starts a little dance, and I realize I have to catch myself, and her, before this gets any further out of control.
“I bet she has things to do,” I say. Mia stops moving. “She’s going home soon. You know that, right?”
Matt takes a step back. Then another. Then makes his way back up the slope, not wanting a part of this conversation. Haley, on the other hand, stands behind Mia with her hands on my daughter’s shoulders.
“I heard her tell Aerial that. I know she doesn’t live here. But . . . but that was before you kissed her, Dad.”
Blowing out a breath, I climb out of the truck. I kneel in front of her so we’re eye to eye. “That was a friendly kiss. I told you she and I are friends,” I say gently. “Neely is a nice person, and I like her very much. But that’s all. She’s going home soon and that’s that.”
The words taste awful coming out of my mouth. It’s hard not to cringe at the way my stomach twists admitting that. Haley watches me, putting me on the spot, and I try to remain as unaffected as I can. For Mia. For Haley. And for me.
Mia’s head cocks to the side, her cheeks rosy from the sun. “I don’t know a lot about kisses, but I know I don’t kiss my friends like that.”
I laugh as I stand straight again. “And you better never kiss anyone at all. Got it?”
She just grins. “I think Neely thinks she’s your girlfriend.”
That’s enough. I pick up my daughter and toss her over my shoulder. She squeals in delight as I twirl her around and head toward Haley’s car.
“What do you know about girlfriends, anyway?” I ask. “You’re a baby.”
She kicks her sandal-clad feet in the air. “I’m not a baby.”
Haley’s laughter fills the air as she steps in front of me and opens the back door. I plop Mia in her seat.
“You behave today,” I tell her. Bending down, I kiss her cheek.
“Now that’s a friendly kiss,” she says. When I groan in response, she shrugs. “What? See the difference?”
I swing the door closed and turn to Haley. “Good luck with that today.”
“I’m kind of on her side,” Haley teases, climbing in the front seat of her car. She talks to Mia as they get buckled in and then backs down the driveway.
I stand there for a long time once they’re out of sight. I’ve wondered if a day would come where Mia misses having a woman in her life besides Haley. So far, I’ve been able to be all the things. But is that time almost up?
My eyes squeeze closed. Immediately, images of Neely pulling Mia’s hair into a ponytail at Dad’s stream through my mind. It was one of the purest, sweetest things I’ve ever seen. They get along so naturally with their spunk and gymnastics and hearts of gold.
Blowing out a breath, I open my eyes. My boots scrape over the gravel as I turn to go back to work. On my way up the hill, I make a deal with myself: if I can ever find a woman as perfect for Mia and me as Neely, I’ll scoop her up in a second. Because despite everything my heart is telling me to do, I don’t have a choice with Neely. I have to let her go.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
NEELY
Mr. Rambis is coming over to fix the ice maker, right?” I take a sip of coffee.
“He said he’ll be over this morning. He’s an early riser, so I expect he’ll be by relatively soon.” She fills a thermos with decaf and adds a splash of milk. “I just didn’t want you to be spooked if you walk in here and see him.”
“Um, good call. Seeing a man in my mom’s kitchen would be rather shocking.”
She throws her purse over her shoulder and then stops in her tracks. “It doesn’t bother you, does it?”
“What? Mr. Rambis?”
“Yes. Does it bother you that he comes by and that I spend time with him?”
Putting my cup down, I lean against the counter. “You’re a grown woman, Mom. I’m fairly certain you can make your own decisions about who you spend time with.”
“I haven’t spent time with someone in a really long time. I keep thinking I’m missing something or wondering if I’m being objective.”
“I don’t think liking someone has anything to do with objectivity. You don’t want a guy who just checks the objective boxes. You want someone who makes you feel good.”
Her shoulders sag like a weight has been removed. “I enjoy spending time with him. So that’s good.”
“Super good. It’ll not be so super good if you’re late,” I say, nodding toward the clock on the oven.
“Oh, crap. You’re right. I gotta go.” She heads for the door. “See you this evening.”
“Bye, Mom.”
The door shuts and everything goes quiet. I wait for a siren to wail or someone to shout outside, but nothing happens. I smile.
After grabbing my coffee, I mosey down the hallway. My computer is on my bed, and I lift the lid and settle in front of it. One email from Archon Sports shines above all else.
I click it.
Dear Ms. Kimber,
Thank you for your reply.
I have scheduled you for a call this afternoon at one o’clock Eastern. I’ll call the number on your résumé.
Looking forward to meeting you,
James Snow
Managing Editor, Archon Sports
“Ah,” I say, falling back into the pillows. It takes a second to catch my breath. I didn’t expect the interview to happen so quickly; I thought I’d have more time to prepare.
I go over the job description and realize it’s about two levels below what I did for years. It should be a fairly simple, routine interview about things I could talk about in my sleep. And if it works out, I could be in New York in a couple of days, working.
Springing to my feet, I gat
her my things to get a shower. For the first time since I got here, it feels like I have something to do. That there’s a point to waking up and going on about my day.
Heading into the hallway, I let out a shriek. “Mr. Rambis. You scared the crap out of me.”
“I’m sorry,” he says, rubbing a hand over the top of his dark hair. “I thought your mom told you I was coming by.”
“She did. I just forgot.” I toss my things in the bathroom and then head to the kitchen. “How are things going?”
“I think this water line is clogged,” he says, shining a flashlight behind the refrigerator. “Other than that, pretty good.” The light flickers off. “How are things with you?”
“I just got an interview, so I’m pretty happy today,” I say.
“Here? In town? Or in New York?”
“New York.”
He nods. “Congratulations, Neely. That’s great.”
“Thanks.” I pick up the paper plate from Mom’s toast this morning and toss it in the garbage. As the trash hits the bottom of the can, my spirits seem to sink a little with it. “Can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
“What’s the scariest thing you’ve done?”
He laughs, setting his flashlight on the table. “The scariest thing I’ve done? You mean one of those houses at Halloween or becoming a parent? Two different categories of fear.”
Mia’s giggle echoes through my mind. The smell of Dane’s skin warms me from the inside. The hollowness at realizing I won’t see them again, not like I’m seeing them now, is almost crushing.
“More like becoming a parent, I guess,” I say.
“Nothing is as scary as that.” He pulls out a chair and sits. “People say falling in love is hard, but it’s not. It’s not a choice if it’s done right. And some people say getting married is paralyzing, but when I married my wife, I wasn’t scared at all.”
“May I ask what happened to her?”
“Car accident. Christmas Eve,” he says. “She swerved to miss a deer, we think, and hit a tree.” His face falls. “She shouldn’t have been out driving that night. It’s a burden I’ll live with forever.”
I cross the room and place a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry. That’s terrible. But you can’t blame yourself for a decision she made, Mr. Rambis.”
He looks at me with a set of deep-brown eyes. “You can call me Gary. If it’s easier for you. Or Mr. Rambis is fine if that works better.” He takes off his glasses and polishes them on the edge of his shirt. “I’ll be honest in saying I don’t know how to work this really well. I don’t have a lot of experience dealing with . . . things like this.”
“Me either,” I say. I watch him for a long moment before pulling out a chair across from him. “I think I’ll go with Gary. It seems less teacher-y.”
“May I ask what prompted the question about fear?”
“I’ve always known exactly what I want out of life. There was no question. I even have a little check-off box in my apartment in the city of things I want to achieve by the time I’m thirty, and believe it or not, I have most of them already done.”
“That’s great.”
“Yeah.” My voice trails off as I think of how to put the rest of this. “I guess I’m having a mini pre-midlife crisis.”
Gary laughs. “How so?”
“I’m just second-guessing some things. Is that normal?”
“Absolutely.” He nods. “I think we all have a few times in our lives where we sort of sit back and reevaluate what we’ve done, what we’re doing, and where we’re going. At least the intelligent people do.” He leans forward. “Think about it. If you continue on the same path your whole life without thinking, just plod through the day-to-day activities because it’s on the schedule, do you even want to be where you end up?”
“See? That’s my problem,” I tell him. “I know where I want to be. That hasn’t changed. But maybe now . . . maybe now . . .” I blow out a breath and look at him. The understanding in his eyes, devoid of judgment, almost brings tears to my eyes.
“You don’t have to explain anything else. I get it. Just know one thing. There is more than one way to cook an egg, if you know what I’m saying.”
He hasn’t said anything, really, that fixes any of the anxiety in my gut. Still, I can’t help but feel a little more settled.
I stand. “Thanks, Gary. I appreciate you taking the time to talk to me.”
“Anytime.”
With a lump in my throat, I head to the bathroom and jump in the shower. The warm water usually releases tension in my muscles, and I work through a lot of things mentally while standing under showerheads. I try to focus on the interview, on the questions he might ask and the responses I should give, but my brain keeps going back to Dane and Mia.
I massage shampoo and conditioner into my hair. Working the suds around, I splash some on the back of my neck and rub the knot that’s forming at the base of my skull.
I don’t have time for this. I have an interview to focus on so I can get back to my life.
Still, even as I remind myself of this, I think of Dane’s smile. My back hits the shower wall.
Might as well get used to it. That’s all he has been and all he’s going to be—a memory.
The water turns off with a quick yank of the handle. I step inside the foggy bathroom and dry off.
Lifting the jeans I brought into the room, I wonder why in the world I chose them.
Because that was twenty minutes ago. You were full of hope back then.
The fabric roughs across my skin as I make quick work of dressing. Going full speed keeps me occupied, and when my mind starts to wander, I pull it back to the next task.
Leave the bathroom.
Wave goodbye to Gary.
Go into my room.
Make sure the phone is charged.
Brush my hair and add some straightening balm. Brush it again.
Open the computer and do a quick scan of the Archon Sports website.
By the time the phone rings, my nerves are a little more even-keeled. I answer it. “Hello?”
“Is this Ms. Kimber?”
I settle into my desk chair. “It is. Is this Mr. Snow?”
“How are you today?”
My breathing evens out, and I fall right back into the role of professional and try to get myself back on track.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
NEELY
Do you think you got the job?” Grace asks. “I need you back here. I’ve learned over the past week that you are the only person I really like.”
A flock of birds take off as I pass their little perch on the top of the slide. The park is empty except for one child and their mother over on the swings.
“I think it went well. He said he’d get back to me soon, so we’ll see.”
“Let me know as soon as you know. A bunch of concert dates were just posted in Cooper Square, and tickets go on sale on Friday. I’ll grab us some if you’ll be back.”
“Sounds good.”
The sun filters through the old trees in the center of the park. I walk the circular drive that encompasses the play area. From my mom’s house to the park, around the drive, and back is one mile even. I’ve probably coursed this circle five times now, but my brain is too tired to compute how far that is.
“Hang on,” I tell Grace. A rumble sneaks up behind me. An engine revs, making me dash off the asphalt and onto the grass. “Why don’t you . . .” I turn to see Dane’s truck pulling up beside me. “Hey.”
He stops. Arm resting on the window, hat on backward, he grins. “What are you up to?”
“Just walking. Needed some activity and fresh air today.”
“Could’ve come to the jobsite. I’d have hired you in place of Penn.”
“I’m not good with a hammer.”
“I could teach you.” He plucks the truck into park. “Want to grab some dinner?”
“Can you hang on one second?” I hold up a finger and lift the ph
one to my ear. “Hey, Grace. I’m gonna call you back later, okay?”
“I love his voice. In my mind, he’s wearing red-and-black flannel with a big wad of chew in his bottom lip. That’s so gross—I hate spit. But it’s also hot in a weird southern-boy kind of way.”
Laughing, I look at Dane. He’s looking at his own phone.
“Well, it’s too hot for flannel and tobacco causes cancer. Your vision is all wrong.”
“Wanna paint me a picture?”
“No,” I say. “I’ll call you tonight.”
“Fine. Bye.”
“Bye.” Shoving the phone in my pocket, I walk up to the truck. He puts his phone on the console.
“So, dinner?” he asks again.
My stomach flutters. There’s nothing I want more than to hop in his truck and drive back roads with him until the sun sets. But then I think of the interview today, and I know it’s not a good idea. For any of us.
“How’d Mia take seeing us kiss yesterday?” Saying the words out loud causes my thighs to clench. “Was she okay with it?”
Dane laughs. “Oh, she was okay with it. She’s told everyone she knows and now thinks we’re boyfriend and girlfriend.”
“Really? That’s adorable.”
“I’ve tried to explain that it was a friendship kiss, but she didn’t buy it.”
“A friendship kiss, huh?” I grin. “Well, I’m glad we’ve cleared that up.”
He reaches out of the truck and almost touches me but stops a few inches short. “How did you classify it?”
“Total friendship kiss. That’s exactly what it felt like.”
Dane shakes his head. “I didn’t say that’s what it felt like.”
We laugh together. I grip the doorframe as we exchange a heated look.
“Come on. Have dinner with me,” he says. “Or go for a ride. Whatever you want to do.”
“I don’t want to confuse Mia any more, Dane. She’s so sweet, and I don’t want her to think I’m another woman coming in and leaving.”
A slow, infectious smile slides across his face. “Well, Mia isn’t here, is she?”
There’s nothing about that I can say no to.
“I haven’t been here for years.” Climbing out of Dane’s pickup, I breathe in the water-infused air.
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