Chapter 13
Bridget
I had to get my hair and nails done for the party tomorrow, which meant Thomas had to accompany me. A charity auction was taking place for the national children’s hospital, and they had asked me to be one of the spokespeople for their campaign. I had agreed to give them both my time, my support, and a donation for the fund, so I was required to make an appearance. It was a formal function for many high-profile people to attend, so I wanted to make sure I looked my best.
I was nervous to see Thomas because I wasn’t sure if things would be awkward. But when he arrived at the house, all my nerves dissipated. He had a huge smile for me and gave me a warm hug. I instantly melted into him again, just like I had last night.
“Hey there,” he said.
“Morning,” I said. “I know you’re gonna hate me, but we have errands to run today.”
“You just never stop doing things, do you?” he asked.
“I have a hair and nail appointment at noon for the party tomorrow, so bring something to read.”
“I could just stare at you, if that’s all right.”
I felt my cheeks heat up at his comment, and a soft giggle peeled from my lips. It wasn’t awkward like I thought it was going to be at all, and that brought me a comforting relief. We went and sat at the table while I brewed some coffee, and the conversation flowed easily between us while it percolated.
“Lacey is adorable, by the way. She’s absolutely beautiful. Keep that gun handy for when she reaches her teenage years.”
“I’ve already got my hunting rifles ready,” he said. “If I’m gonna hunt them down, I’m gonna do it right.”
“Those poor guys don’t stand a chance with the girl whose father is the Hulk himself,” I said.
“No worries. I’ll teach her how to throw a mean punch, and they won’t even get to my doorstep.”
I got up to serve the coffee, and I couldn’t stop smiling. It felt so nice having him around, and my body gravitated toward him naturally in a way I’d never experienced with anyone before. Every other guy just wanted to fuck me, but Thomas wanted to actually get to know my body.
At least, that was what it felt like.
“She liked you, too, you know,” he said. “She wouldn't stop asking me when you were coming over next time.”
“Really?” I asked. “Man, she’s too cute.”
“You were all she talked about on the ride to school. ‘Bridget painted with me,’ and ‘Bridget played blocks with me,’ and ‘why don’t you ever run your fingers through my hair like she did?’”
“Well, I can personally testify as to how good that feels when you do it,” I said. “Don’t rob your daughter of something like that.”
Shit, his daughter liked me. At least if she had hated me, I wouldn’t have to tell Thomas my secret. But being around his daughter and her wanting me to come back around meant I had to be honest with him. I had to tell him what he was protecting me from, in case it backfired and put them in some sort of danger.
But when his eyes connected with mine over the edge of his coffee mug, I shoved the idea to the back of my mind. I could tell him after the party, like on the way home or something. I didn’t want anything tainting something that was supposed to be good for the children, especially if it would cause a rift between us like earlier this week.
“So, what’s this fancy party for?” he asked.
“It’s a charity auction for the national children’s hospital. All proceeds go to funding treatments they give terminally ill children.”
“That’s a wonderful cause,” he said. “Any reason why it caught your eye?”
“They asked me to be one of the spokespeople for their campaign, and I thought it was a wonderful cause. I kept thinking that, one day, if I’m lucky enough to have kids, that might be my kid. I might wake up one day with a child who has cancer or who is born with a debilitating disease, and I’d want something like that available for him or her.”
“Well, it’ll be an honor to attend the dinner with you,” he said.
Yep. I would wait until after the party. I would tell him after the charity auction, and he could make his decision from there.
“Any idea of how you’re gonna do your hair and shit?” he asked.
“And shit?” I asked. “Wow, nice to know you actually care about this stuff.”
“No, really. I mean, I’ll never have to deal with that stuff, but you do for your job all time. So, it’s important to you, right?”
“I suppose so, yeah,” I said.
“So, what are you going to do for them?” he asked again.
“Probably just some sort of updo. I bought a pearl necklace and earrings from that store we went to this week, so something that gets my hair out of the way and shows those off.”
“It sounds beautiful,” he said. “What about your nails?”
“Thomas, you really don’t have to care,” I said, giggling.
“Well, I’m choosing to,” he said. “So, what about your nails?”
“I don’t know. Probably something that matches my dress.”
“What color’s your dress?” he asked.
I paused and looked at him over my coffee mug. How would he take it when he realized our outfits matched? Would he be upset? Would be think that was weird? Would he like it?
“It’s a dark green lace with a champagne-colored bow around my waist,” I said.
I watched his eyes twinkle with delight before he threw his head back and laughed. I was relieved when he began laughing because the sound was comforting to my ears. But I was still a little curious as to why he was laughing.
“Of course, it is,” he said. “Ironically, those are the colors of my suit.”
“I swear I didn’t plan it like that, Thomas.”
“I know you didn’t. I just think it’s funny how we had all that bad tension between us that day, and we still managed to railroad our lives together.”
“So, you’re not upset?” I asked.
“Amused and a bit curious as to what you’ll look like, but not at all upset.”
“Okay, good,” I said.
“I’m actually kind of looking forward to it,” he said. “Going with you to this thing. I mean, I’ll be on the lookout for threats, but it’ll still be nice.”
“I’ll enjoy being there with you, too.”
I curled up into the kitchen chair and continued to sip my coffee while he looked through his phone. The light from the phone lit up his face, and I really got a chance to study how blue his eyes were. Lacey had his eyes, but I could tell from the dark color of Thomas’s eyebrows that she probably had her mother’s hair. Part of me wanted to press him about her mother some more, but part of me knew if I did, I’d risk spilling everything to him.
And it had to wait.
After the auction, Bridget. After the auction.