Chapter Eight
Mack
I can’t stop thinking about Naomi.
I spent the night sleepless and awake, picturing the heartbreaking expression on her face as she talked about her father - the tears running down her cheeks, and the sobs I couldn’t gather her up into my arms and rock out of her.
And now I’m spending this morning thinking about the way she flung her arms around me - just briefly, just for a second, and I was too surprised to react. Me, with all my military training and lightning-fast reflexes…stood dumb as she hugged me and darted back before I could do anything. Which was probably a good thing - because if I’d had the chance to get my arms around her, I’m not sure I ever would have let her go. I’m not sure that friendly, thank you hug wouldn’t have become something so much more.
It was a bad idea to go over there. I knew it as I was doing it, but I didn’t give a damn. There’s no way I could see any women upset like that and not at least try to help. And as for it being Naomi, well…damn, I’m still fucking drawn to her. I just wish it had been a simple problem. Some asshole I could punch, or some appliance I could fix.
But then, I’m not sure Naomi would be crying over something like that. She seemed pretty determined when it came to that cabinet of hers, that first day she moved…
The thought makes me smile, just a little, and I shake my head. I really shouldn’t be thinking all this.
I just wish there was something I could do - some way to help. To make her feel better.
I fucking hate situations you just can’t fix.
It doesn’t help that Tyler isn’t around to distract me, either.
I mean, it was a nice gesture of Mom’s - have Friday night to myself, maybe see some guys, go for a few drinks, work on a project that isn’t so safe for a six year old…me time. But what she doesn’t understand, is that sometimes the distraction Tyler gives me is the only thing that keeps me sane.
I know she wants me to have some sort of life outside of simply being Daddy, but I’m not sure I know how anymore. I’m not sure I even want to. Drinks with the guys is still fun, but…we don’t relate in the same way we used to. And what little bullshit I tolerated before, I’m done with now. When Tyler was born my perspective on everything just seemed to change. Maybe if Fiona had stuck around, the pressure would have lifted enough to work it out, but…I’m not even convinced about that.
I was still going to try last night, though - call up Finn and see whether he wanted to shoot some pool - until I saw Naomi there and then…well, then that happened.
But now? I’m not hungover. The house isn’t trashed. And I have absolutely nothing that needs doing.
So I’m tempted to head to Mom’s and pick up Tyler early - find a park, maybe, or drive to an adventure center - just to resist the urge to knock on Naomi’s door and see how she is this morning.
Something that would definitely be taking things too far - and probably shift my attention from a nice gesture to invasive. Even if that’s what I really want to do.
Instead, I don’t do either of those things and walk out into my side yard instead, looking up at the tree I’m in the middle of cutting back, appraising it.
I’ve been spending a lot more time out here recently. I tell myself that’s because Fall is a good time for it, and I should sort the yard before the weather starts to turn. But it’s also at least partly because, from here - and particularly from up in that tree - I can also glance over to see Naomi out on her deck, occasionally.
And I know that’s at least slightly what I’ll be hoping for as I start work on it again - just some confirmation that she’s okay. Which, of course, I’m sure she is. It’s just…hard to forget the way she looked, her shimmering auburn hair mussed against her tear-stained face. Or forget the things I wanted to do. Holding her, brushing those tears away, reassuring her, doing something to make it better…
Just something to put a smile on her face again.
I keep thinking about it, even as I work at cutting back the overgrown branches towards the top of the tree, balancing in the middle of it and working by hand - something I prefer to a chainsaw. It actually gives me a workout that way, and since I left the Marines, I’ve tried to maintain as much of my strength and fitness as I can through real work. I’ve definitely slipped from that military standard, but…I think it’s only my old army buddies who would notice.
And when I see her come out mid-morning, with that cup of coffee and a book - no tears obvious this morning - the urge to go over there only gets stronger. One thing about this kind of work…it doesn’t need enough mental focus to distract me.
She spots me in the tree and waves, as per usual, getting my nod in return, before we both go back to what we’re doing.
I can only stay up there for so long, though, with her sitting right there distracting me, making me think about last night, wonder how she is…and after a while I climb back down, looking at the gardening equipment scattered around as I head in for a shower. By the time I’m done and outside again, though, I can’t fight it any longer.
I don’t find myself heading for that tree at all - no, instead my feet turn towards the gate at the edge of my yard.
Just to make sure she’s okay.
Halfway there, I have another idea. Not a big one, and probably not even a good one…but with this small is probably what I’m looking for.
A little while later, I’m heading out to see Naomi still sitting there with her book. She definitely doesn’t look as upset today, but I just…don’t want her to feel like she’s alone, I guess.
And I want to make her smile.
She looks up as I approach this time, not too lost in her own thoughts not to notice, and puts the book down with a small smile.
“Hey.” She says, her tone light and easy.
“Hey.” I smile back.
I don’t ask her how she’s doing. When you’re feeling shit, I’ve found that’s probably the worst thing to hear - and after last night, I think she’ll tell me if she wants to.
Instead, I put the little plant pot I’m holding on the table.
“I was gardening and thought you might like this.”
She looks at it, and the curious expression on that sweet face makes me want to step closer to her, to tilt that head up towards me and—
“What is it?”
I chuckle. “Keep it, and you’ll find out in spring.”
A perplexed look crosses her face. “What? You’re not going to tell me?”
Right now, it just looks like a small pot of soil.
“It’s more fun this way.” I assure her. “Half of the enjoyment of gardening is the long build up to see how things turn out.”
She laughs, shaking her head. “I’m afraid I don’t exactly have green fingers - if you don’t tell me, I’ll probably never know. Spring is a long time - however much I try, I think it might be dead long before that.”
“It’s easy, I promise. Find somewhere to plant it, and you won’t have to do anything at all - or keep it on a windowsill and just water it a little occasionally. Very resilient.” I say, then give her a winning smile. “It’ll be worth it. Maybe it doesn’t look like much now, and spring might be a long time away…but days have a habit of creeping past when you don’t notice them. And before you know it, things have changed, and it’ll be sprouting to life in front of you.”
She glances back at it, eyes narrowed, but there’s a spark in them as she looks back for me, one eyebrow raised. “Is it supposed to be a metaphor for my life?”
That makes me snort in amusement. “I’m not that deep. I just thought you might enjoy the…anticipation…of what it might become.”
I know my tone changes as I say anticipation, my mind suddenly darting to something else entirely, but I hold her gaze anyway.
She turns back to the pot and pulls it closer to her, looking inside with a smile.
“Well, I might take it that way, anyway. I quite like the idea of that - maybe by next spring, I’ll have sprouted a little too.”
My mouth twitches up, but I don’t say what I’m thinking - that I doubt she could blossom much more than she already does - because…well, if nothing else, it’s super corny. And I don’t say things like that.
“Thank you, Mack.” She smiles up at me, and there’s a genuine pleasure in her gaze. “I’ll try my best not to kill it.”
There. You found something to make her smile, anyway.
“If you do, it definitely wasn’t a metaphor, okay?”
She laughs, then gestures towards the other chair - still in the position I left it in last night. “Do you want to join me again? Or do you need to get back to the gardening?”
“Actually.” I pause, then figure what the hell and go for it anyway. “Would you like me to show you around town? You’ve only been here a week.”
She blinks, then straightens in the chair, her curves shifting as she does, tempting me to glance down and see—
“That would be lovely.” She smiles openly at me.
She moves to stand, and I instinctively offer her my hand. It’s not really what I want to do, because it suggests something other than a friendly tour, but I couldn’t stop myself if I wanted to. And when she takes it, it’s like a little jolt runs straight through me, and I have to remind my cock that now is not the time to come out and play. That, in fact, there isn’t a time for that at all.
We part a moment later though, and I raise an eyebrow.
“Right now?”
She reddens, just a little. “Well, that’s one thing about only just moving here - my weekend is an open book so far.”
“Now works just fine, then.” I say, gesturing her back towards my truck. “We’ll drive around a little before hitting the center.”
She nods, and after we’ve walked over, I help her again when it comes to stepping up into the cab before going around to jump in on the driver’s side.
Well, I think as I put it into gear and we roll out of my driveway, looks like you’re really doing this.
I mean, it’s just showing her a few things in town. An innocent, friendly thing to do - and any other friend she made here would probably offer something similar. But I also know what else it is - an excuse to spend time with her. A reason to indulge in the heat she stirs and watch as her gorgeous curves walk right beside me.
And…get to know her a little more than I was planning on.
But she was so open with me yesterday - and now I feel like I want to show her some of me, too. I’ve lived my whole life in this town. It’s almost as much a part of my childhood as my Mom is, and I like the idea of showing it to someone new around here.
Showing it to Naomi.
We drive around for a little while, and I show her some of the places on the outskirts, similar to our little road except maybe a bit more populated. It’s not a very big town, but I’ve got a few stories about the rope-swing over the slow-moving river there, or that dark overlook where the street lamp has been broken for years that tends to get cars gathering at night, or the auto shop that would give her a discount if she mentions my name…
Enough to have her smiling and laughing beside me, with warm, flushed cheeks and a lively expression. Something that feels good just to see - especially after last night. And also because, a week ago, she seemed nervous and uncertain around me and I can’t help feeling relieved that whatever I was doing wrong…I’m clearly not anymore.
By the time we get into the center of town and I find a parking lot, I’m more relaxed than I can remember being for a long time - and I think I’m smiling almost as much as she is. That’s something that only Tyler or Mom tend to get out of me these days, and it feels…strange. Strange, but kind of nice too.
Even though there are distant warning bells going off in my head. I didn’t want to get involved. Don’t want to get involved.
But damn…Naomi.
The girl does things to me.
It doesn’t take long to show her the town. We walk past the school, which she already knows, and then I show her the main street. It consists of a couple of grocery stores, Applebee’s and a diner, plus the local post office. Oh, and Lisa’s bakery - that, I drag us into, to come away with two of her world-famous apple pies.
“You know.” Naomi says, squinting at the steaming paper-wrapped delicacy. “I’m not sure I’ve ever heard of these…”
She takes a bite, blowing on it to cool it down but too impatient to actually wait - and then her eyes widen.
“Oh my god.”
I laugh. “Yeah. That’s why she gets to stick the world famous label on them - I’m not sure they’re common knowledge in the State, let alone across the world, but…once someone tries one, they’re not going to object to the idea.”
I take a big bite of mine, then jerk my head back just as quickly as all my taste-buds get seared away.
“Daamn. Do you have an aspestos mouth or something?”
Naomi laughs, then takes another easy bite. “I drink too much coffee - and I can never make myself wait for it, so I got used to scalding my tongue.”
I shake my head, waiting another few moments before cautiously going back to the pie.
“Well, I might have to start making Lisa’s part of my walk home from school…” Naomi says, her eyes glittering with a good humor that makes the polite distance between us suddenly seem very small. Then she looks around. “So where’s next?”
I laugh, shaking my head. “I think you’ve seen most of it now - there’s a mall further outside town but I don’t tend to go there much. As you know, small town - why d’you think we spent so much time driving around it first? This is the main street…and, probably, the only street worth showing you. ”
She stares at me for a moment. “It…is?”
“You really did grow up in a city, huh?” I smile, shrugging a little. “Yeah, this is it.”
“Hah, really.” She shakes her head, obviously amused. “I’m pretty sure I could’ve worked this much out for myself.”
She glances around the street, an ironic smile on her face, and before I can help it, I find myself stepping closer to her.
“Yeah. You’re right.” I murmur, and her eyes find mine again, darkening just a little as she catches the way I’m looking at her. “Maybe the tour was just an excuse.”
I smile, not nearly as casually as I have before, and I can feel more than see her breathing hitch as she looks up at me. Tilts her head, so slightly. Her mouth parting, tongue darting out to moisten those full pink lips and making my cock twitch against my pants as I shift towards her, not sure how much longer I can control myself. Not sure I even want to, as our locked gazes thrum with an unspoken—
“Mack?” The voice cuts in a moment before that feeling swamps me completely. “Mack! It is you - oh, I wanted to talk to you about—”
Naomi’s gaze darts to the side, breaking the spell entirely and forcing my attention back to something far less appealing. Reluctantly - very reluctantly - I look away as well—
To see Fiona.
I blink, mentally reeling from the sudden shift out of something I wanted so very much, and into…well, this.
“—well, are you?”
I frown, feeling totally behind on this conversation, while something roils in my stomach in warning that no, this is a bad idea. Something is wrong here, you should leave, because, before, in case—
“Mack!” Fiona repeats again, overly exasperated.
“Huh?” My brow furrows, as my mind refuses to relay any of what she just said.
“The town fair. Next Saturday. You know, the one that happens every year - the harvest festival. Are you going?”
“Oh.” I pause, vaguely recalling that I probably knew about that. “I don’t know - we haven’t worked it out yet.”
All I do know is that I don’t want to be having this conversation. Not here. Not now. Actually, not at all.
She gives me an incredulous look.
“Don’t you take Tyler every year? When have you not gone?”
“I—” I run a hand through my hair.
If she thinks the only answer was “yes”, why the hell did she even ask the question?!
I shrug. “I guess. I just haven’t thought about it.”
I don’t tend to make plans, these days. Between all the plates I’m trying to spin at the same time, it’s an exercise in futility - and I don’t much like thinking about the future. So, I let these things happen to me instead. And most of the time, I barely even register them.
“Oh, the harvest festival.” Naomi says, her soft voice soothing some of the hackles that always rise when I’m talking to Fiona, and I glance over. “I’m really looking forward to that - the school are doing a few things, and I’m excited to see it for the first time. Do you go often - is it good?”
She directs the latter at Fiona and whether it’s deliberate or not, I have to admire her for subtly trying to change the direction of the conversation. I don’t know if she realizes that Fiona is my ex-wife, but her antagonistic tone would be obvious from a mile away. Not that Naomi’s friendly attempt works. Instead, Fiona seems to notice her for the first time, swinging around to look at her with a frown.
“Who are you?” Fiona’s voice cuts sharply as she glances back and forth between us, her pointed gaze narrowing even further. “Oh. Oh.”
The insinuation is obvious, and my stomach churns as Naomi shifts awkwardly at the edge of my vision.
“I’m Naomi.” She says anyway, still trying to be more friendly than Fiona deserves. “I just moved to Mayfair - I’m living—”
“Well, that explains why I’ve never seen her around before.” She turns to me, completely ignoring Naomi, and the familiar anger starts to build again. “When were you going to tell me you’d started chasing after girls again, Mack? What is it, no one from this old town good enough for you anymore?”
Naomi flushes bright red, and my fists clench before I can stop myself, my pulse soaring into my ears as I glare back at my vicious ex-wife.
“Don’t, Fiona. It’s not like that—”
“Sure it isn’t.” She rolls her eyes and I catch the daggers she shoots at Naomi as she does.
I don’t care what she says to me, but this attitude towards Naomi—
“Mack was just showing me around. That’s all.” Naomi says, her voice cool, but the tension in her body easy to read.
I stop her anyway - she shouldn’t have to explain herself, or anything we’re doing, to Fiona.
“I don’t care what you think. Or what you want.” I say, only noticing how hard my tone is when she flinches slightly - the most reaction I ever get from her.
“No, of course you don’t.” Her eyes flash. “I was just going to suggest that I come along with you this year - to the harvest festival. You know, make it a bit of a family thing - for Tyler. But since you’re too busy with her to care about that, well…nevermind.”
She turns around in a huff and leaves, and even though I know it’s because that’s her best chance of retaining the moral high ground here, I still find my blood boiling over with infuriating impotence.
God damn it.
She knows that I wouldn’t have accepted that suggestion for a second, but this way she gets to retain her deluded idea that she’s denying me because I don’t care enough about our kid. It’s the sort of impossible parallel world that she’s lived in for years, and it drives me fucking crazy—
“Mack?” Naomi’s hesitant voice finally snaps me out of it, and I stop glaring after Fiona for long enough to turn back to her.
“I’m sorry.” I sigh, shaking my head. “I didn’t expect—”
I pause, because I’m not quite sure what I was expecting. There’s no reason Fiona wouldn’t be here at the center of the town on a Saturday morning, I just…didn’t think about it.
Or about what it would look like.
“It’s not your fault.” Naomi shakes her head, and I feel like shit that she ended up in the middle of this.
“That was, well - my ex. Fiona.” I sigh again, my mouth twisting into a grimace. “I’m sorry that you got caught up in that. Maybe coming out with me wasn’t the best idea.”
“Oh, you probably had a few stories that were worth the trouble.” She smiles, just a little, and some of the warmth comes back into her caramel colored eyes. “I can see why she’s your ex, though.”
I snort at that. “Yeah. You could say that again.”
She hesitates, then starts worrying at her bottom lip, glancing back the way Fiona came.
“Do you think she really…thought…?” She doesn’t finish the sentence, but I know exactly what she’s asking.
And my stomach sinks even further.
That brief moment between us flashes back into my mind and I know if it had lasted just a second longer…something would have happened. The kiss that was right there, waiting…
Now, one look at Naomi and I know it’s gone. Not just a broken moment, but the awkwardness that Fiona planted, the awareness that we aren’t trying to do that. After denying it…god, I don’t know whether saying no out loud made it feel more or less true. But either way - the look all over Naomi’s face is uncomfortable.
She doesn’t want this.
I try to remind myself that I don’t either.
Neither of us wants to add to this mess. My ex. Whatever Naomi is trying to hide.
“Mack?”
I shrug, feeling awful about it. I know what she’s worried about. She just got here - she doesn’t want ugly rumors circulating…untrue rumors…things we definitely didn’t do.
Even if we might have been so damn close to doing them.
“I don’t know.” I eventually sigh. I wish I could tell her it doesn’t matter - that Fiona wouldn’t say anything, that no one would listen to her if she did - but…I don’t know. Women can be malicious sometimes, and Fiona…I wouldn’t trust Fiona as far as Tyler could throw her. “I’m sorry, Naomi. She might have gotten the wrong idea, but…well, I doubt it will go anywhere.”
I try to give her some reassurance, at least, but I’m not sure I’m doing a great job. It doesn’t help that I’m pretty sure that what Fiona picked up on was the right idea, and the idea of that not going anywhere…doesn’t make me as happy as it should.
Naomi sighs as well, raising a hand to her head as if to massage away a headache.
“It’s okay.” She shrugs, and makes an effort to shake off the tension. “I’m sorry you have to live with—”
She cuts herself off, flushing slightly, as if realizing what she was about to say. I just laugh.
“You don’t have to hold your tongue around me - especially about Fiona. There’s nothing I haven’t heard.”
That makes her smile, but she doesn’t finish the sentence. I kind of respect that, too - she doesn’t want to get involved in drama that doesn’t belong to her, in a town she’s just moved into. And after the last few years, I can appreciate a woman who doesn’t seem to want to gossip about my split with Fiona.
“C’mon.” I finally say, nodding back in the direction of the parking lot. “I’ll take you back.”
Naomi nods and walks back to the truck with me, but I notice the slight distance between us, and the careful way she holds herself. I feel the part of me that really wanted to kiss her sigh in disappointment, but I try to convince myself it’s a good thing we didn’t. If I’d had one taste of those plump lips or felt her body crushed against mine, I’m not sure what would have happened. It’s probably a good thing we were interrupted before we went too far.
We can simply be neighbors. That was the idea all along.
But where the drive earlier was lively and fun, on the way back we don’t talk at all. And when she jumps out, after thanking me for showing her around, I feel more awkward than I did that first night she came around asking for sugar and I was too mesmerized to think of a damn thing to say.
Fucking damn you, Fiona.