Chapter 20
PICK
So the week progressed. And then a couple more days. I lived on a daily high where no one could bring me down, no matter what they did or said. I'd always been good at rolling with the flow and taking things in stride, but now I actually smiled through it all. Life was just amazing.
I didn't care if I woke up every morning with a raging hard-on that not even yanking off in the shower could calm. I woke up next to her. The smell of lilacs on my sheets, her hand resting next to my pillow only inches from my face, accidently spooning with her on some nights. Yeah, I had no complaints.
"So, how're things working out with Eva?" Mason asked one night, just before we opened the club, where I'd actually arrived on time to work . . . for the eighth stretch in a row.
He must've realized I was thinking about Tink, because his knowing smirk made me scowl.
"Oh, it's just . . . you know . . . awful." I gave an exaggerated roll of my eyes. "Supper's waiting on me every night when I get home from the garage. My apartment's spotless. The laundry's always folded and put away. My kid's happier and healthier than he's ever been, and this drop-dead gorgeous woman parades around in front of me nonstop, wearing ass-hugging yoga pants. It just, yeah, totally sucks."
Mason chuckled. "I didn't realize exactly how much E. did around our place too, until she was gone. Strangely, we kind of miss her."
I frowned, ready to tell him he couldn't have her back. She was mine.
"I didn't know she was going to actually move in with you while she watched your kid, though," he added. Narrowing my eyes, I studied him, trying to figure out what he was really saying. He shrugged. "I know you work some long hours, but there were a few nights in there you didn't work late at Forbidden."
Eva and I had always managed to fill those nights with reasons for her to stick around until it was basically too late to drive her to Mason and Reese's. Once we'd borrowed a couple strollers for the kids and took a walk down by the nearest park. On another night, we'd cooked spaghetti together and ended up talking afterward until almost midnight.
But Mason's blatant comment made me realize what I'd been doing. I'd been playing house with my dream girl, using her on borrowed time, and relishing every damn minute of it. I didn't like his questions, though. They threatened my paradise.
"What're you getting at, Lowe?"
He lifted his hands and laughed uneasily. "Hey, I'm not complaining. I finally have Reese to myself, and that rocks. I'm just . . . concerned. You two slipped into this domestic little . . . whatever it is, way too easily. What's going to happen when you get your regular sitter back? You just going to send her home to us without a backward glance? Or what if your wife returns? Where does Eva fit in this?"
I shook my head. "My wife's not—" I stopped short, telling myself he was right. What I was doing with Eva was selfish, and it couldn't last. I groaned and glanced away. "So, what're you saying I should do?"
Mason shrugged. "Hell, I have no idea what you should do. I'm just saying don't hurt her. Keep her, send her back, whatever. But if you hurt her, you'll upset Reese. And that will piss me off."
I nodded, a little miffed he was more concerned about affecting Reese than Tinker Bell. But Reese was his girlfriend, so I guess it made sense.
"I get that." I nodded. "And I'll talk to Tink about it. Make sure she's getting what she wants from this."
Mason was silent after that, seeming satisfied by my answer.
But I never did talk to Eva. I was too afraid she might say she wanted to leave once this was over, or maybe that she was counting down the days to break free . . . just as Tristy had done.
***
It was bound to happen. Thirteen days after Tinker Bell came to watch my kid, the chicken pox passed from my neighbor's apartment, and they were no longer contagious threats.
That night at dinner, Eva waited until we were seated at the table—Julian slapping at the top of his high chair and Skylar nestled over her shoulder—before she said, "So, Mrs. Rojas called today . . . "
The baked potato I was chewing caught in my throat. Why the hell had Mrs. Rojas called the landline too, when she'd also called my cell phone? I'd been trying to forget or at least put off responding to the conversation I'd had with her for as long as possible. Like maybe another week or so. A decade perhaps.
Eva glanced up at me, her gaze seeking, trying to read me. "I guess they're all healthy, and you finally have your regular sitter back."
I nodded and reached for my glass of iced tea, unable to say a thing. But iced fucking tea. The woman even made iced tea. How the hell was I supposed to just let her go?
Fine. Iced tea had nothing to do with it. Even if she'd never once cleaned or cooked a damn thing, I still want her to stay.
"Skylar and I packed our things this afternoon," she added, stabbing me right through the chest with her casual announcement. "After the supper dishes are cleaned, we can call Reese to come pick us up."
"No!" When Eva blinked in surprise, my face heated. "I mean . . . " Shit. I ran my hand through my hair. "You don't have to call her. Fighter and I can drive you guys over."
"Oh." Her shoulders fell half an inch, and I swear I saw disappointment in her eyes. It lit a fire of hope inside me. I opened my mouth to ask her to stay, but then she grinned and added, "That'd be great. Thanks."
Damn it. What the hell had I been thinking? I couldn't keep her forever.
Skylar saved my mortified ass by picking that moment to spit up, and Julian helped by throwing his chew toy over the side of the high chair and crying for someone to fetch it. But that was only a temporary distraction. After Eva and I worked side by side to clean the dishes, she brushed her palms over her hips and turned to me with a tense, expectant smile.
"Well . . . " she said.
"I'll, uh . . . " I blew out a breath. "I can carry your things down to the Barracuda."
Her blue eyes were soft and appreciative. "Okay. Thank you."
I nodded, stalled a minute, and then turned and headed from the kitchen. It only took me three trips to get everything she'd accumulated over the past few weeks piled into the trunk, which meant, after only three brief trips to my car and back, it was time to take her home.
We were both quiet as we bundled up the kids. I picked up both Julian's and Skylar's carrier, one in each hand. Eva slung her purse over her shoulder and slowly glanced around the front room as if bidding it farewell. Then she lifted her shoulders and asked, "Ready?"
I couldn't answer so I turned toward the exit. Tink got the door for me and led the way down the stairs, and then she opened the main entrance for me as well. I wanted to blurt out, "We work so well together, it seems like a damn shame to end this so soon," but I swallowed the urge.
Once the four of us were buckled in, I fumbled for the keys. There was a moment of silence before I could start the engine in which Julian screwed up his face and began to whine, tossing his arms as if prepared for a royal tantrum.
"Hey, it's okay, little man." Though she was technically no longer my babysitter, Eva undid her seatbelt and leaned over the seat to check on him, finding him a toy to latch onto and chew.
I glanced over and watched her sooth him. "I think this is his way of telling you he doesn't want you to go."
Eva sent me a sharp look and abruptly turned around, settling herself forward again. I bit my lip, gnawing on the rings at the corner, and stabbed my key into the ignition.
When I didn't turn the engine on and just stared straight ahead out the front windshield, Eva cleared her throat.
"Um . . . Pick?"
"Hmm?" I shifted my attention to her.
She crinkled her eyebrows. "Why aren't we going?"
"Oh." I looked down at my hand still resting on the key. But I just couldn't turn it.
Fuck. It was confession time. "I guess it's my turn to balk." I drew in a heaving breath and added, "Because this is my way of telling you I don't want you to go."
Then I held in
the breath I'd just gulped down, creating a pocket of distress in my gullet as I waited for her response.
"You want me to stay?" She sounded hopeful as her eyes lit up. Or maybe I was the hopeful one, trying to project it onto her. Yeah, that had to be it.
"Ignore me," I mumbled, reaching for the key again. "I'm being stupid."
But she snaked her hand out and covered my fingers, stopping me from starting the car. "I want to stay, too," she said, her admission so low I almost didn't hear it.
I straightened and twisted my entire torso to face her fully. "You do?"
Nodding, she yanked her hand from mine and began to wring all ten fingers at her waist. "I mean, Julian's going to need a babysitter anyway, whether it's me or Mrs. Rojas. And if you pay us the same, then I don't see why it'd make any difference if I—"
"Stay," I said simply.
Eva bit her lip. Her chest rose as she took a deep breath. And then she nodded. "Okay."
EVA
This was crazy. Insane. Completely foolish. I'd pretty much just agreed to move in with a guy I'd never even kissed after only having known him for a few months.
We never did clarify how long I had agreed to stay. I'm not sure if that made the situation better or worse. Maybe he only wanted me another month or two. Maybe forever.
I hoped forever, though oh God, I shouldn't be hoping that, should I?
What if his wife came home? What if he started dating? What if . . . ?
"Do you need to call Reese and let her know you're not coming back?" he asked, carrying both kids again as he followed me back up the stairs to his apartment. "She was expecting you tonight, wasn't she?"
I bit my lip but didn't turn to let him see my sudden unease. "Yeah, I guess I should." I pulled my key from my purse. As I was unlocking the door, I realized I should've given the key back already since I'd been planning on leaving.
God, I had subconsciously known all along I wouldn't be going anywhere tonight, hadn't I?
"Do you want to use my cell phone? Her number's already in the phonebook."
"Okay." But I didn't want to call Reese. I already knew what she'd say. She'd turn into my conscience and tell me what a terrible, awful, stupid idea this was. And then, what if she somehow convinced me not to do it? I didn't want her to convince me not to do this. I wanted to stay with Pick and Julian.
Pick set down the two carriers and fished his phone from his pocket. As he extended it to me, he sought my gaze with his own. When I realized he was trying to read me and see if I wanted to change my mind, my decision to stay cemented itself further. He wanted me here, but he'd never do anything to force my hand. That's why I didn't want to leave, because he wanted me to be my own person and make my own decisions.
I took the phone and entered my birthday to get into the home screen, which reminded me he had secrets he was keeping. Damn, maybe I was acting too rashly. I didn't know much about him.
But the phone was already ringing in my ear, and I still wanted to stay. My instincts trusted this man; they rarely trusted anyone.
My gut churned. Pick was getting the kids free of their carriers, so I turned away and hurried down the hall to our room.
When my cousin answered, a cold sweat poured over me.
"Hey," I answered. "I, uh, I guess I won't be coming back tonight after all."
Reese didn't sound suspicious at all. "Really? What happened now? The neighbors contract malaria?"
I didn't laugh along with her. "No. No." I shook my head and nervously started playing with my hair, winding tendrils around my finger and letting them corkscrew free. "The Rojas are all healthy now. Pick and I just . . . we decided I might as well just stay on, you know, for the foreseeable future, as . . . as his permanent babysitter."
When my cousin didn't answer, I squeezed my eyes closed and clenched my teeth.
"The foreseeable future?" she echoed.
"Yeah." I shrugged, making it sound like no big deal. "You know, just play each day by ear. He needs a babysitter anyway, and I still need a job. It just . . . it works well for us this way. And you and Mason get to keep your love nest undisturbed."
"Right." Reese drew out the word. "Because this is all about Mason and me."
Her scathing tone made me scowl. I opened my mouth to tell her I did want her and Mason to get some freedom from me—even if that wasn't the main reason—but Reese exploded.
"Seriously, what're you doing, E.? You're the one who convinced me why the two of you can't be together. So, why are you torturing yourself like this? You're going to end up falling for him, and then his wife's going to come home, and you'll be thrown out on your ass, homeless, jobless, and freaking heartbroken."
I sighed and closed my eyes, not about to tell her part of her prediction was too late. I'd already fallen for him.
"It's not like that," I argued. "We've never even kissed."
Reese snorted. "I was far and gone in love with Mason before he ever put his lips anywhere near mine. Love doesn't start with kissing or sex, it starts with feelings. And you and Pick . . . gah, you can't tell me there aren't feelings there."
I closed my eyes and sighed. "I can't leave, Ree Ree. I just . . . I can't. I know you don't understand that, but—"
"No, sweetie. I understand it perfectly, and that's why I'm worried. But I also want you to be happy, and I've never seen you as happy as you are with him. I'm going to keep worrying, though, because I love you."
My heart melted when I realized she meant her words. It was still so strange and amazing to me that anyone gave a shit about me. "And I love you too, but—"
"No buts. I understand. I'm just leery. And now that I've voiced my concerns, I'll shut up. Just remember, I'll always be here if you need me. I can at least promise you won't go homeless."
"Thank you." I bit my lip. Knowing she had my best interests at heart but was still suspicious made me second-guess myself. "You know," I said slowly. "Just to be on the safe side, maybe I won't take all my stuff from your place quite yet."
"Smart thinking."
After I hung up, her words echoed through my head. I walked slowly from the hallway back to the living room, where Pick was pacing the floor with Skylar. He turned to me abruptly, his gaze anxious.
"Well?"
"Well what?" Damn, he knew I was waffling.
"Did she talk you out of staying?"
The scales tipped in his favor again, and a glow lit me up from the inside as I shook my head. He'd been so worried about me leaving. It felt nice to be this wanted. Correction: if felt nice to know he wanted me.
"No. She didn't."
His stare narrowed. "You talk yourself out it?"
"Not yet." After strolling the rest of the way to him, I braced my hands on his forearms and leaned in to kiss Skylar's head. While my lips were still pressed against her soft skin, my gaze met his. Heat coiled inside me when I realized we were only inches apart.
His brown eyes were watchful, wary, and yet filled with their own brand of desire. "So, we're really doing this, then?"
I pulled back slowly and nodded. "Yeah. We're really doing this."
Relief hissed from his lungs, and a slow smile spread. "Good."
PICK
Eva had reassured me, but we still stayed quiet for the rest of the evening. After putting the kids to bed, we curled up on the couch together and found a sitcom to watch. I wrapped my arm around her shoulders and she rested her cheek on my chest.
At bedtime, we still didn't talk much as we readied ourselves for the night. A nervous tension thrummed through my bones. I turned off the light and waited until she climbed onto the mattress before I followed her under the sheets. And finally, I drew out the edgy breath I'd been holding, a little more certain she was really going to stay.
The nightlight by the crib brightened the room just enough to put a romantic glow on the atmosphere. Eva and I lay on our sides, facing each other, our hands tucked under our cheeks. We studied one another for a while without speaking. I wondered
what she was thinking, but I was too afraid to ask, so I let my lashes flutter closed.
Almost immediately, I could feel her mind start to whirl, and my guts knotted right back up as worry pierced me. If she called off our new arrangement, I didn't know how I'd survive it.
"Pick?"
Damn it.
I opened my eyes warily. "Yeah?"
Concern coated her gaze. "Is this wrong?"
I shook my head, trying not to lose it. "Why would it be wrong? It's no different than what we've been doing for the past two weeks."
She shrugged and bit her lip. "But I was only here because you needed help. Now . . . now I'm here because . . . I want to be."
Wow. Just hearing her say that warmed me up all over. I swallowed noisily, trying not to reach out and just yank her against me. "I still need help. Julian still needs a sitter."
"But it's different now. Can't you feel it? Me deciding to stay . . . it changed things."
Reaching out slowly, I caught her hand and squeezed her fingers. "Yeah, I feel it," I admitted. "But I still don't want you to go."
"I don't want to go either." Even as she said that, though, she slid her hand out from under mine, putting emotional distance between us.
Fuck, I hated emotional distance.
Confusion filled her eyes. "I know in my gut this is wrong, but I think I found my niche in life by being here. I mean, is it lame that I actually like being a homemaker? That I like watching kids? They're just . . . It's fulfilling to watch them learn every little thing, like how to reach out their hand to grab a hold of something. I like . . . it feels so satisfying when I manage to get them to stop crying after they've been upset. I like feeding them and cleaning them and dressing them. They're just these perfect miniature little people who have no clue how to be people yet. When I bring them down off a big cry, it's as if my super power just kicked in. I feel . . . rejuvenated."
I shook my head, my brow crinkling with confusion. "Why would that be lame? I think it's amazing."
She flushed and picked at a corner seam on her pillowcase. "I don't know. I just . . . where I grew up, domestic women who stayed at home, taking care of the house and watching the kids, were always looked down upon. If you wanted to get anywhere in the world, you went off to college and got a real job, so you could pay someone else to watch your kids if you ever had any. But being here these past few weeks, actually doing this . . . it's hard work. It takes effort, patience, perseverance, and more freaking energy than I ever thought I possessed. And yet, at the end of every day, I feel more fulfilled, more . . . I don't know . . . just satisfied with my life and myself than I'd ever felt before."