Kensley

 

When London and I made it to the table before, it hit me with how well Sawyer took to Liam.

When Sawyer refused to let go of him, I was hit with how well Liam was with the girls.

And after London was through with her questioning, and it was just the girls talking, I was hit with how normal this felt—a guy and a girl, and two kids taking up the sound space.

Boom.

Boom.

Boom.

Mark couldn’t be bothered with our daughters, but here Liam is, hanging out and acting like a natural.

Then, when our food arrived to the table Sawyer was reluctant to sit beside Liam—she wanted to be held—it…

Bothered me?

Made me sad?

Made me happy?

I’m not quite sure. Maybe a mix of it all.

Bothered, because Sawyer attached herself so easily to him, when I couldn’t even tell you if this was a one and done event, or if there would indeed be that next time Liam eluded to.

Made me sad, because she never had this with Mark. I think Mark held her maybe three times, for longer than it took to pass her off from her crib to me, or from his mother to me.

Made me happy, because…

Well, it’s way too soon to start looking at those feelings.

All I know is this scene is nothing like one my girls have experienced before.

When Sawyer finally settled on the bench beside Liam, she didn’t stop dancing her shoulders from side to side. She’s having a good time.

Both my girls are, especially when Liam tosses a tater tot in the air and catches it with his mouth. Which, of course, led to practice.

…there were a lot of tater tots on the ground after the girls gave it a try.

Liam helped cut Sawyer’s grilled cheese into smaller triangles, as if it was something he was supposed to do.

He pretended to not notice London swipe a French fry from his plate—but laughed when she sputtered because the fries were garlic ones, and she hadn’t been expecting the added spice.

Now...

Now, I sit next to him at the table as we face the play area, completely comfortable and at ease with him.

The girls are running around, through the train, on their knees, around and around they go.

When Sawyer picks up a handful of sand, I warn, “Don’t throw that,” not even moving from my lean back into the table. For once, I feel…

Relaxed.

Like the entire world isn’t resting on my shoulders.

Funny how a stranger is able to give me this.

“They’re good girls,” Liam says a few beats later.

I nod. “They are.” I tip my head away from him, not taking my eyes off my daughters. “I’m sorry for London.” I don’t move my head much, but I do move my eyes to try and catch his reaction.

He just shakes his head. “She’s four. It’s okay. My nephew was the king of temper tantrums for a long time. She was just tired.” He turns his head and looks at me, and as nervous as the thought makes me, I force myself to turn my body, facing him on the bench.

I drop my hands to my calf, resting on the bench between us, as I think about what I walked in on at Sharon’s house.

Do I tell him what London’s tears were about? Can I confide in him?

It’s all too much, too soon…but it’s not like Liam doesn’t know a good bit of my history. I decide to give him some of the truth.

“Mark video-called the girls when they were with Sharon—they’re grandmother, his mom. Right before I picked them up.”

Liam nods, slowly and only once, his eyes locked on mine. “And London didn’t care for that?”

Understatement of the year.

London wanted to know when he was coming home. Why he was still gone. Why they had to move out. What she did to make them move out.

Why didn’t he want her anymore?

Which, of course, he didn’t have appropriate answers.

According to Sharon, she had to stop her son from saying anything nasty to our girls about me, as if this was all my fault.

I let out a breath through my nose, fighting hard to keep eye contact with him, when all I want to do is watch my girls, hold my girls, never let them go.

“Sharon wasn’t expecting the call. And she wouldn’t have taken it with the girls there, but London…” I laugh dryly, “These days, kids know technology like nobody’s business, and she recognized his call on Sharon’s computer.”

Liam slouches some, one leg stretched in front of him, the other foot resting on the ground, and places his hands on his stomach. He looks relaxed, but the way he’s looking at me…

“Can I ask you something?”

I nod.

“Watching you this afternoon, I get the sense he’s not around much.” I open my mouth, but he holds up his hand. “I know you said he’s gone a lot, but when he is here, how much does he do with the girls?”

I drop my head, ashamed of the answer without even giving it.

“I mean, you don’t really have to answer that,” he’s quick to rush on, but then he places one of his hands atop of my folded ones and squeezes lightly. “The girls seemed like they had fun this afternoon. After London got over her interrogation.” He says the end with the smallest of chuckles and I can’t help but look up and study this man.

He says the right things at the right time.

He seems genuinely interested in me and the girls, even though he knows…well…that phone call.

It’s not the right place or right time, but Liam would be the best guy, of that I have little doubt.

“I don’t have it in me to start a relationship,” I blurt out, totally not meaning to. My face instantly heats. “Oh, my God.” Quickly, I turn away from him, pulling my hands and leg out from under his hand. “Girls,” I try to call out, but it sounds more like a semi-croak. “Oh, my God,” I mumble under my breath.

Assume much, Kensley?

I mean to round the table to get my purse and return Liam’s things, but he stands and snags my hand. My heart is pounding in my chest and I can’t take a deep breath for the life of me, nor can I manage to look up any further than the middle button of his Henley shirt.

“Kensley.” His voice is low. Soft. Rumbly. Is that a word? Rumbly?

Well, his voice is.

I swallow hard but can’t manage to move my eyes.

“Kens.” If anything, his voice drops even more.

I have no choice but to look up; first, staring at his chin. I think there’s the smallest of dimples in the middle. Super tiny. He has just enough scruff to make you—me—want to run the back of my hand over it, feel the prickliness against my skin. His lips are full.

Up, up, up, I look.

Past his straight nose, then into his blue eyes.

Light green eyes, dark lashes, dark hair.

He’s a gorgeous specimen of male flesh, but it’s not the first time I thought so.

“I wasn’t looking for anything,” he starts, and I can feel my face prickle with heat.

“Oh.”

“Actively. I wasn’t looking actively,” he continues, his eyes not leaving mine. Staring down at me, holding me captive. “I’ve never been as immediately grabbed by a person as I have with you. You calling in was… Hell, I don’t want to say fate, because that makes it sound like you were meant to go through the last few years. And gotta tell you, what I know of Mark? He’s a fucking asshole.” Liam’s eyes leave mine quickly, looking behind me.

To the girls, I realize.

For not the first time this afternoon, I feel like I’m about to cry.

How is this man like this?

How is he so good to the girls? So kind to me?

Why does he worry about my girls, who he’s known for no more than two full hours, when their own father can’t be bothered with a scheduled video chat that’s no more than five minutes?

I swallow past the lump in my throat, hoping that the tears will go away with it.

His eyes fall back down to mine. “I will back off if that’s what you need. What you want. But you should know…” He pauses and squeezes my hand, the hand he’d grabbed before and I didn’t even remember he had. “You should know that I don’t give up easily, not when it’s something that I think is meant to be. Something real. And it just…” He shrugs, and a boyish quality overcomes his face. “This time with you, with London and Sawyer, it just feels right.”

“I’m pregnant.” It was my excuse earlier too, and I feel like it’s the only excuse in the book that I have.

“I’m aware.”

“I can do it on my own.”

He nods. “I figure you’ve been doing it on your own.”

He sees. He sees right through me. He seems to understand me.

“You’re very kind,” I whisper when I have nothing else to come back with.

“I think you probably need some kindness in your life.” He squeezes my hand again and then does the unexpected.

He brushes a kiss to my forehead.

Before I can say anything, do anything, he steps away from me. “Ladies, your mom’s ready to head home.”

There aren’t any groans of disappointment.

No fights to stay a little longer.

None.

Instead, both girls come barreling over and throw themselves at Liam’s leg.

He could grab their hands.

He could pull them off.

But instead, he bends down and scoops them both up, one on either side of him, and gives me a look.

One that says…

One that says he’s in.

The question is, am I?