CHAPTER SEVEN

Carly

Thanksgiving has come and gone, and we are just two days away from Christmas break. The kids are basically one step from acting like they’re hopped up on some of Christine’s chocolate-covered espresso beans, so every night when I get home from school, I’m beyond exhausted. Between trying to keep their attention on curriculum and not on their Christmas lists to Santa, making sure they’re all bundled up before recess then helping them get out of their snow gear after recess, handing out Kleenex for all the snotty noses and squirting Germ-X on their hands like my life depended on it, I am so wiped out that I pretty much collapse the moment I get home from school or the gym at night.

But one bright spot to my day? One moment where I feel the exhaustion fade and my heart to race? Is when I receive a text from James. Every day he texts me something that puts a smile on my face. Whether it’s a simple “How was your day?” to an e-card he thought was funny that I just had to see. Several times he calls before bed. We’ll talk for hours about everything and nothing. We’ve also seen each other a few times, though I’m beginning to feel not nearly as often as I’d like. Once when James asked Jack and me to eat at a restaurant a few towns over, another when he stopped in with pizza and a plan to watch Food Network with Jack. He even came over to help me hang Christmas lights.

Of course, that evening I was a total wreck, fumbling over my words and feet all night, overwhelmed by his kindness and selfless generosity. Jack and James built their own sort of bond already. With the football season in his rearview mirror, proudly claiming their Runner-up-at-State status, he has been shifting his focus. Whenever he has a free moment, he’s been spending time at Balance with James, helping him clean up, researching appliances, going over menu items. James has made Jack feel like he’s a part of the restaurant, and the simple knowledge of my son having someone in his life who is willing to support and encourage him is unnerving. So, when he showed up to hang out for the night, he and Jack slipped beautifully into their already-established relationship. I, on the other hand, nearly face-planted when I tripped over the coffee table, only to be caught around the waist by James. The nearness of him combined with the smell of his body wash made my head dizzier than it was in the first place.

Every day he breaks down another section of wall that I’ve built around myself, but I’m not going to let him break it down completely. Getting burned in the love department once is enough for a lifetime, and I have no intention of going back there. But the friendship is nice. More than nice, if I have to admit it. In the end, though, that’s all it can ever be. Friendship with the super-hot-uncle-of-the-year, who raised his daughter on his own, loves his family more than himself, is willing to help Jack in discovering his dream, makes me laugh — and did I mention how hot he is? Friendship. Yup. That’s what I chant to myself several times a day.

He’s been staying at Tess and Barrett’s until he gets his place set up, which is actually going to be the apartment above the restaurant. It wasn’t what he originally planned, but it turns out it’s a nice space, or so he and Jack told me. At this point, I don’t think he’ll be allowed to move out of the Ryan’s house any time soon. Harper tells me a story every day that includes the wonderful Uncle James, and today is no different.

Harper runs into the classroom, then hugs me around the legs and tugs on my hand so I give my full attention to her.

“Miss Hanson, you should have eaten supper at our house last night! Uncle James made us really yummy mac and cheese — and his doesn’t come in that box — and real fried chicken! Oh, and collars that were green!”

I’m not sure what all the real food means, but I assume it was made from scratch.

“Green collars?” I smile.

“Uh huh! And they looked gross, but they were really really good because they had bacon in them.”

“That sounds delicious! Did you help with any of it?”

She nods her head emphatically. “I did! I put the gross chicken in the flour stuff for him and made sure it was coated. That’s what he called it. And I helped get the big hunk of cheese into tiny pieces then he had me stir the cheese into the noodles.”

“Sounds like you were a big help!”

“I was. Uncle James told me I was the best little helper in the kitchen ever. Wait. Didn’t Jack tell you what he ate last night? He helped too, but I think I was a bigger helper than he was.”

“Well, Jack did tell me James was teaching him how to make a few things in the kitchen and told me what you made, but he didn’t tell me what a big help you were!”

“That’s probably because he felt bad that I was a bigger helper than he was, you know, since he’s bigger than me.”

“I bet that was it.” I nod, trying to hold back my laughter.

“You should come have supper with us some time!”

“Maybe.”

I learned a long time ago that I should never commit fully to anything my students ask of me. If I don’t follow through, which in this case I won’t be, I am always on their pint-sized poop list for as long as it takes them to get over it. Which usually isn’t very long, considering a six and seven-year-old’s attention span is pretty darn short.

Jack and I have finished eating supper, and he’s now locked up in his bedroom, doing homework and who knows what else, probably talking to Maggie in whatever way teenagers do. He seems to be getting closer to Maggie every day, but just like James and me, they’re just friends. Although, I don’t see it sticking to just friendship with them. Even Grady seems to be softening to the idea of his little sister dating.

After my shower, I change into some soft gray lounge pants and a lavender long-sleeve Henley. I brush out my wet hair but leave it down to dry. Sometimes I feel blessed for my naturally pin-straight hair, but having a little bit of curl would be nice. When I don’t feel like taking the time to do much with it, like right now, I feel very fortunate for it.

I’m settled in on my favorite oversized chair with a glass of wine and my Kindle, already getting lost in the story of a tattoo artist and reality TV show producer that I can’t seem to put down, when my phone beside me alerts me with a text. I smile and reach over for it, already knowing who it’s going to be. I wasn’t ready to actually watch our episodes of Shameless together, but we do talk on the phone or text while we watch it. I feel like I’m a teenager again, and soon I hope I’m ready to actually watch the episodes together.

 

Captain James: Incoming

 

First of all, don’t judge me on my name for him in my phone. If he ever sees it, I’ll surely die of embarrassment, but I can’t help myself.

Second, what the heck does incoming mean? Unfortunately, I don’t have to wonder for long because I hear a knock on my front door.

The smile that I had plastered on my face from seeing his name light up my screen? Gone. Replaced with my smile? Pure panic. I’m literally just in pants and a shirt. Meaning, no bra. I quickly look around the house for something to throw over my shirt and find a long black lightweight cardigan that I had worn to work today. But that only takes care of one problem. I’m standing in my living room, not a drop of makeup, hair still damp from my shower, and… giant, neon-pink, fuzzy slippers on my feet.

I hear another knock on the door followed by James’s deep voice. “Carly?! Beautiful. Remember?”

How he knows I’m standing here fidgeting and worried about how I look is a wonder, but I’m finding that somehow James knows me almost better than I know myself.

I blow out a breath and hold my head up high, hoping it will give me some inner-strength, and open the door. James stands before me in pair of black joggers, a dark hoodie, and his signature baseball cap. He shouldn’t look hot. He does.

“Hey, beautiful,” he says when he sees me, a smile lighting up his face.

“Hi. What are you doing here? I thought we were going to watch Shameless in a few days?” We had a few dates watching it over the phone but never together in person. Two nights ago, in a moment of pure courage, I asked him to come over to binge watch some episodes together, but I needed the time before I was actually ready.

“I’m not allowed to stop over?” He pouts.

“Oh stop.” I reach out to nudge him in the shoulder, and he fake-stumbles back, giving me a wide-eyed look that makes me laugh.

He smiles and steps closer. “Jack. He called me today. Wondered if I could stop by. He had some things he wanted to talk to me about.”

I falter and look at him, confusion coursing through me. “He did?”

“You didn’t know I was coming over?”

“No, obviously.” I gesture to my clothes then flip the ends of my damp hair with one of my hands.

“Still doesn’t change it.”

“Change what?”

“How beautiful you are.”

“James…”

He lifts his hands up. “Hey, friends can tell friends they’re beautiful, right?”

“I suppose.” I sigh. His words and all-around personality are puncturing more holes in my well-built walls every day, threatening to crumble them down to dust. I want to keep hearing those words, but I also don’t want to keep hearing them. I feel like I’m stuck in between two places, my heart being pulled in two different directions like an intense game of tug-of-war. I don’t know how to move on from my past, but I also don’t want it to continue to hinder me from having a future.

“Can I come in?” he asks, still standing on my front porch under the soft glow of the porch light.

“Oh! Yeah. Of course. Let me just let Jack know you’re here,” I say over my shoulder as I make my way back into the house.

“Wait. Can I talk to you? Just for a quick second?” he asks, reaching out and touching my hand and stopping me.

“Sure.” I nod my head. “What about?” I ask as I lean against the back of the couch in the living room. I reach over and grab one of the cream-colored throw pillows and hug it to my chest. It gives me a sense of comfort, and stops me from fidgeting — or reaching out and tugging him close to kiss the crap out of him. That might not give him the right idea for just staying friends.

“I have a favor to ask,” he hedges but hastily continues, “and I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t really important, and it’s a strictly friendship favor. I promise.”

“James. I know I’ve been a little… determined to keep it in the friend-zone, and you’ve never crossed the line. I can’t tell you how much your patience means to me. I trust you. I promise.”

“Yeah? I’m not being too pushy?”

“No.”

“Okay. Good. That’s good. I would never want to do anything to make you feel uncomfortable.”

There’s not a single molecule in my body that doesn’t believe that. “I know. And you haven’t.”

“Would you go to a wedding with me?” he blurts out.

“What?!” I ask, surprise evident in my voice.

“I’m sorry. I just kind of blurted that out, huh? Let me start over. My niece, Emily, is getting married a few weeks after Christmas. It’s only about two hours from here, but I wondered if you would be my plus-one? And I’d love for you to meet Lily, and she’s been so swamped lately that she hasn’t had a chance to spend much time here. I guess she’ll be here for Christmas, so maybe you can meet then, but yeah. And, Tess will be there, obviously, so you would know someone.”

“I don’t know, James. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m honored that you invited me, or thought of me…”

“No one else I would think of,” he murmurs before I continue with my protest that I know will just fall flat anyway.

“You don’t want to bring someone else?”

“Like who?” he challenges, turning his head to the side.

I shrug my shoulders and say the only name that comes to mind. “Christine?”

They actually seem like a logical couple to me, both being in the food-service industry. Both being single parents of daughters. But even though there’s so much that seems right about those two together — and I love Christine dearly — the thought of it makes me physically ill.

He’s shaking his head before I even finish saying her name.

“There’s no one else I would rather bring with me to this wedding, Carly. Jack can come with us, if you’re worried about it being too date-like. I told you I would keep it in the friend-zone, and I don’t go back on my promises. But that doesn’t mean that I want to stop getting to know you better or spending time with you.”

“Can I think about it?” I ask, already knowing that he’ll break me down, and my answer will be yes.

His smile stretches across his scruff-covered face. I was never big on facial hair, but the way James does it makes shaving seem like it should be a crime. Apparently, anything James does makes me change my views. Tattoos? Used to make me turn the other direction. Now? Hot enough to lick. Facial hair? Used to make me think lazy and dingy. Now? I want to run my fingers through it and lick. Either I’m severely hard up, or James is getting burrowed deep under my skin.

“Of course. But let me sweeten the pot. This way you can answer that question that you’ve been dying to have answered since the moment you met me.”

I giggle quietly. “Oh yeah? And what’s that?”

“Who’s the cooler uncle, Dean or myself?”

I almost burst out laughing. He’s so lighthearted and full of life. He’s truly just a fun guy to be around — always a mischievous twinkle in his eye. He could have become a bitter and cynical man after being left to raise a daughter on his own. Instead he embraced it.

“Oh, that question! I already figured it out!”

“It’s not hard to realize, right?” he said as he puffed his chest out a bit, giving me an impish grin.

“Nope. Dean is obviously the way cooler one between you two.” I press my lips together to stop the smile threatening to take over my face.

“Carly,” he warns playfully as he takes a step toward me.

“What? He’s probably not boring, and I’m sure way better looking.”

“Oh really?”

Two steps.

I nod my head seriously. “And in way better shape,” I say, almost choking on the words.

“You think so?”

Another step.

“I’m positive. And cooking? Pssshhh. Hands down, I bet he’s better in the…”

I squeal and take off running through the house as James advances one step closer, a deep growl escaping his throat.

I burst out laughing. Heavy footfalls follow me, making my heart race in anticipation. I round the kitchen island and spread my hands across it, breathless from laughing and running. “Maybe I had it wrong this whole time, and he’s Captain and you’re Private?”

“Take it back,” he says, smiling, his own hands spread wide across the wooden countertop of the island.

I turn my head to the side. “What? Take what back?” I ask innocently.

“Carly,” he warns again.

I tap my finger on my chin, feeling more playful and lighter than I have in years. “Hmmm, maybe I will have to come with you to the wedding. See what the younger Cole brother has to live up to.”

His eyes flash, and I know I’m in trouble, but I can’t seem to stop. “Oh, you think you’re so funny, don’t you?”

I giggle and shrug my shoulders as I start to take steps toward him. He turns and saunters my way, flipping his ball cap backward, our eyes never leaving each other’s. “I think I’m a little funny,” I say as I continue walking toward him, holding my finger and thumb up with only a little space apart.

“Funny or delusional?”

Saunter.

Step.

I guffaw and press my hand to my chest. “Delusional? Who’s the delusional one here?”

Saunter.

Step.

“You’ll see.”

Saunter.

Step.

“I’ll see the awesomeness of Dean? I have no doubts.”

Saunter.

Step.

And I’m suddenly hanging upside down over James’s shoulder being carried back into the living room.

“Aggghhh! James! Put me dow…” I laugh. “I’ll pee! James! Seriously!” I’m laughing so hard that tears are already forming in my eyes.

He tosses me on the couch and pounces, his large body covering mine in a very non-friendly way, but I don’t say a thing. I can’t say a thing. While we have not been overly touchy in the weeks that we’ve known each other, we also haven’t refrained from showing each other small amounts of affection. He always puts his hand on the small of my back when we’re walking, and he’s held my hand when we were crossing the street to go for supper. This, though? This is by far the most affection and feeling we have shown each other.

“Take it back,” he repeats, his eyes heated and voice husky, his arms pinning my hands above me, our fingers threaded together so perfectly it felt like they were made for each other.

“Hmm? What was that?”

“I said…” He lowers his face so we’re nose to nose. “…take…” His nose skims the length of my neck. “…it…” Deep inhale. “…back.”

Heart flutters.

Flips.

Flops.

Kaboom!

My breathing picks up, and I know in this moment that I have two choices:

 

1. Melt into a pile of goo. Which I’m basically well on my way to doing.

2. Take matters into my own hands.

 

I choose option two.

I pull my hands free, frame his face, and pull him down closer. His eyes heat and flit over mine questioningly. And I do something I’ve been wanting to do for what feels like ever.

I lick him, from jawline to temple.

I lay my head back down on the pillow and watch as his face transforms from lust-filled to incredulous.

“Did you just… lick me?”

“I did.”

“I don’t know what to do with that,” he admits.

He pushes himself into sitting position, and I shimmy up the couch, crossing my legs and tucking my hair behind my ears. He’s facing forward. Slowly he turns his face toward me. “You licked me,” he says like he still can’t believe it.

“Yup,” I say. I have no clue why I did it, other than I just wanted to, so giving an explanation isn’t even an option at this point.

“First time your tongue was on me…” He trails off, looking away again.

A giggle bursts out of me, and I quickly put my hand up to my mouth to hold it in.

James shakes his head at me, stands up, and places his hands on his hips. He narrows his eyes and points at me. “Now you have to go to the wedding with me.”

“For the lick?”

“Wedding for the lick.” My eyes widen, and he continues. “That’s right. I said it. You licked me. Therefore, we wedding.”

“That’s not even grammatically correct!” Stupid argument? Probably.

“That’s your defense against going?”

“Hey! It’s true!”

“Be that as it may, doesn’t change the fact that you licked me. And we’re now going to a wedding. Together. Hi, Plus-One.”

I hear a deep snort from the other side of the room and gasp when I see Jack standing in the doorway to the living room, his broad shoulder leaning against the opening, an amused expression on his face.

“You guys are so weird,” he says, pointing to the two of us.

“You say weird. I say awesome,” James says. “Just wait and see who the best Cole man is when you both join me for Emily’s wedding.”

“Why am I being sucked in to this thing?” he asks. “I hate weddings. I don’t wedding.”

“Maggie will be there. In a dress. She’s a bridesmaid.”

“I’ll be there.”

James snorts and looks my way, winks, and my entire body goes up in flames. Bye-bye wall I built so strongly.

James huffed and puffed, and it blew right down.