It’s not eavesdropping if you hear over the baby monitor, right? Because I heard every word that Amy said to Brody last night when she thought I was still asleep.
I probably should’ve turned it down or left. Maybe drowned the speaker in water to remove any and all temptation to hear what she thought of me—of the potential of us—but . . .
I couldn’t. I mean, who would?
I’m a curious guy, always have been and probably always will be and there’s something to be said about hearing the woman you’re potentially interested in express her feelings like that.
I heard Brody over the monitor at least a minute before Amy woke up. After remembering where I was, I focused on more pleasant sensations, like how fucking great it felt to have a woman in my arms. No, it was good to have Amy lying on me, chest to chest, legs tangled with mine, her warm soft body melding against my hard one.
I thought she was beautiful before she had Brody, but now she’s off the charts hot. Those curves, her eyes, and her dark auburn hair that shines so bright I have to stop myself from touching it. Her smile, her attitude, her infectious energy and total commitment to her son, all of it is amazing.
So yeah, guilty as charged, I heard her talking to Brody when she thought she was alone and let every word sink in. When I knew she was finishing up I decided to save her the awkward turtle moment and leave. She felt embarrassed enough and there was no way I wanted to make her uncomfortable. But I made sure to leave her a note, one that hopefully made up for my hasty departure and also put a smile on her face.
For the first time since I made my vow to Cade, I find myself wanting to spend time with Amy like last night, when I’m there just for her; to spend time with her, talk to her, rile her up and smirk when she scrunches her nose up in frustration. The old me might have been freaked out by the fact that Amy has a child but it’s different because it’s Brody. That little guy and I had a bond the minute we locked eyes in the cereal aisle. I’ve got his back, he’ll have mine when I’m old and gray. Wait . . . did I honestly just go there?
But now, I’m on a mission. I’m playing the long game but first, I need help and Mia is first on the list.
With the first step in my plan decided on, I pull out of my building’s parking garage and into traffic.
I push a button on my steering wheel and activate my phone’s Bluetooth.
“Call Mia,” I say to the car at large, pulling to a stop in the daily traffic jam that is now an integral—even if annoying—part of my morning routine.
“You do know it’s like eight a.m. right?” Mia says by way of greeting. “At least my husband knows how to wake me up right,” she grumbles, making me chuckle.
“Morning to you too, sunshine.”
“Thomas, unless you got laid, hurt, or at the very least maimed, you better have a good reason for calling me so early.”
“You have a daughter. I figured you’d be awake.”
“Yes I do and she’s sound asleep in the bed beside me. Matt carried her in once he’d finished his husbandly chores.”
“I doubt it’s a chore for him, Meems,” I muse.
“You’d be right. Never known him to turn down breakfast à la Mia when it’s offered.”
“And this conversation just went weird,” I mutter as Mia’s giggle fills the cab.
“So do tell me Mister hot cleaning man, how can I be of service?”
“Do you know what kind of clothes Amy likes?”
“What, are you going to do her laundry now too?”
“No,” I reply a bit too quickly. “I need you to buy her an outfit.”
I hear a muted girly shriek over the phone and a rustling of sheets, then what sounds like a door closing.
“Why . . . ?” Her voice is almost a shrill, an over excited, far too telling one.
“Sounds like you’ve realized why, Meems.”
“You’re asking her out?”
“Yes, but it needs to be done right. I want her to be comfortable and ready. She needs to want to go out with me, not feel she’s doing it out of obligation.”
“You’re not going to have any problems there,” she mutters but I hear every word.
“Say it again?”
“Never mind,” she replies quickly before changing the subject. “So where, when, level of dress, just the outside or are we talking the whole shebang?”
“Top to toe and everything in between. I don’t want her having to worry about anything, and I mean anything, Mia. Whatever she needs is whatever you’ll buy. Just make sure she feels as beautiful as I see her.”
“Oooh, you’re totally giving her the pretty woman treatment aren’t you.”
“I’m going to give her everything she deserves. Do you think you can come by my office to grab my credit card?”
“Major swoon alert, Thomas. If I wasn’t happily married I might just take a walk on the abstinence-ending side.”
“Very funny, Meems.”
“You’re a catch and I’m liking the idea of you with my best friend the more I think about it. You’re a good guy, Thomas Caldwell, cocky attitude notwithstanding.”
“Good to know,” I muse wryly, “considering who you’re married to.”
“He’s a lucky man. He’s also lucky he knows it and shows me every day,” she says and I can hear the happiness in her voice. “Now, when do you need all of this done by?”
“Two weeks. Will that give you long enough?”
“I’d get it done in a day if it meant Amy gets some.”
“Mia . . .” I warn.
“Sorry, sorry. I’m getting ahead of myself.”
“Let’s see if she actually wants to go out with me first, shall we?”
“You really don’t see it, do you?” she says bizarrely.
“See what?”
“Never mind. You men are all the same. Anyway, text me your address. I’ve never been to your office so I’m going to need directions.”
“Will do.”
“Cool. Let me get Emma fed and dressed and we’ll see you in a few hours. We can talk more then.”
“Mia . . .”
“Bye, Thomas,” she says cheerfully before ending the call.
“Eyes on the prize, Caldwell,” I say to myself, knowing that I’ll probably get the same grilling from Mia that I had from Abi but as long as Mia can do what I need her to do, I’ll take whatever she dishes up.
We’ve had two more takeout Thursdays, and watched two more superhero movies—she wasn’t kidding about being a Marvel fan—and I’ve found myself looking forward to each one more than the last.
Nothing has been said about falling asleep together on the couch but there’s no way either of us have forgotten about it. I’ve seen Amy studying me when she doesn’t think I’m looking and I’ve been unapologetic the times she has caught me doing the same. But it hasn’t gone any further than that.
I’ve still got my game plan in play and Mia rang me just yesterday to update me on her progress with her allotted tasks.
Today is Brody’s christening though, so definitely not the day to do anything other than play the role of friend. It’s made easier by the fact that this whole ‘friend zone’ situation has an expiry date because I’ve decided that next Thursday is going to go a hell of a lot different than those that have gone before.
There’s just one last piece of the puzzle to fall into place and it will be game on.
And from my baby monitor eavesdropping, I know exactly how to make the first move, one that will leave her with no doubt as to where my feelings lie.
In fact, I’m not going to give her the option of saying no because the one thing that my year of abstinence has taught me it’s that hard work is always rewarded. So far it’s been in business, this time, it’s going to be making sure I look after Amy and Brody in all the ways a man can.
After the ceremony at the church where both Abi and Sean stood up as godparents for Brody, we all gather back at Noah and Zoe’s place for lunch.
A few hours later after we’ve eaten and put the younger kids down for a nap, I change into my swim shorts before diving into the pool.
Having donned swim shorts, and wearing out the older kids in the pool by becoming the Uncle Thomas water playground that throws and dunks and throws again, I spot Zoe, Mia, Abi and Amy lying out on sun loungers and make my move.
Deciding they might also be hot, and in need of some water, I do what any good man would do. Quietly exiting the pool, I grab my towel on the way before shaking my head, throwing drops of water all over them.
“Thomas, you got my shirt wet,” Zoe shrieks.
“You’re not the only one,” Amy mumbles under her breath and my ears prick up. I definitely don’t miss the way her eyes hone in on my chest, legs and everything in between.
“Heard that,” Mia muses, making my lips twitch. Amy blushes and I cover my mouth to hide my laughter.
“Bitch,” Amy hisses, poking her tongue out.
“Caldwell, did you get my wife wet?” Noah says from across the backyard.
“That’s what she said,” I retort, turning his way.
“He did get me wet,” Zoe says with a giggle. “But in my defense, I’m sure I heard Amy say she was wet too.” I don’t even try to hide my chuckle this time.
“Why are we talking about people getting wet?” Mac asks, walking through the French doors leading out from the kitchen.
“You don’t want to know,” Sam says, an uncharacteristic wry smile playing on her lips as she pulls up a chair and sits with the girls.
“If it’s enough to make Sam smile like that, I do wanna know,” Mac replies, sidling up to Daniel who’s standing with the rest of the guys.
I hook my towel around my neck and rush her, plastering my damp chest to hers.
“Thomas,” she shrieks. “Now I’m dripping,” and the whole group laughs, Daniel grinning down at his wife after he pulls her away from me.
“You totally walked into that one, gorgeous.”
She makes a harrumph sound which is equally hilarious.
“My job here is done,” I say proudly before throwing Mac a smile. Turning around, I make my way over to where Amy is lying down on the sun lounger, shooting her a wink and earning a gorgeous smile, one I wouldn’t mind seeing again and again.
It’s then a whimper comes out over the baby monitor, one I recognize as Brody straight away. She starts to move but I put my hand on her shoulder to stop her. “You don’t have to, Thom—”
She stops talking when I give her the ‘what did I say’ look, biting her lip adorably and invoking images in my head of all the other ways I could make her look like that. And right on inappropriate cue, my dick decides to twitch to attention.
I’m abstinent not a monk, and my dick may hate me for my life choices but he’s not adverse to making his presence known, like right now.
Wrapping my towel around my waist, I move across the backyard and into the house, ducking into the downstairs bathroom and getting changed back into my clothes before making my way upstairs.
I walk into Noah’s son’s bedroom where Amy set up Brody’s Pack ‘n Play when we arrived. Peering over the side, I meet a pair of big and extremely curious hazel eyes.
“Hey buddy, have a good nap?” I ask him as I lift him in up into my arms and cradle him into my chest the way he likes. When he doesn’t answer—because seriously, babies are rather selfish in the conversation stakes I’ve discovered—I continue chatting as I scan the room for his diaper bag, and move it toward the change table set up in the corner of the room.
“Well, we’ve been having an awesome time while you’ve been sleeping. You should really work on this overwhelming need for a nap. You missed out on playing in the pool with me and the other kids. You would’ve loved it too. It’s just like a giant bath tub with loads of water.”
I undo the snaps of his onesie and like the pro that I now am, have the dirty diaper undone, and his pee missile covered for my protection in the blink of an eye.
“Then I shook my head like a shaggy dog all over the mommies—well, Abi’s not a mommy but I bet Uncle Cade will get one past the goal sooner or later—and they shrieked like a bunch of girls before you saved me by waking up. So good on ya, buddy, I owe you one.”
A quick twist of the wrist and a flick of my fingers and he’s changed, re-snapped, and cradled back into my arm. Then I do what any normal man would do, rolling his dirty diaper into a ball and announcing, “He shoots, he’s scoooores,” when I make the cool electric bin shot on my first attempt.
“Should we go downstairs now?” I ask him, reaching my spare hand out and opening the bedroom door. “Because the way you’re trying to bury your face in my chest tells me you’re starving and wanting milk and sorry to say, little dude, I’m totally the wrong person to be expecting anything to eat from.”
I know something’s up the moment I step out into the backyard with Brody because everyone—and I mean kids included—are watching me with variations of shock, surprise, and amusement on their faces.
“What?” I ask just before they all burst out laughing. All except Amy whose eyes are warm—one could almost say heated—as she watches me walk toward her.
“Ah, hey,” I say, somewhat self-consciously, wishing I knew what the hell was going on.
“Do I have something on my face?” I say quietly when I reach her and hand the baby over.
Now it’s her turn for her lips to twitch. “Let’s just say that you say the cutest of things to my son while changing his diaper.” She manages to get that out before letting out a giggle as she kisses Brody’s head.
“What do you—” I ask cutting myself off when it hits me, my head snapping up to meet my friends’ amused grins.
“Yeah, buddy,” Daniel says with a laugh.
“He shoots, he scoooooooores,” Cade mocks.
“Fuck,” I mutter.
“Thomas!” Amy growls. “Language.”
“Shit . . . I mean . . . schnitzel.”
“I prefer firetruck,” Mia announces with a huge smile.
“Fudge also works well,” Zoe adds. “Except maybe when Nate tells his grandmother that Mommy likes fudging with Daddy.”
“What?” Abi gasps. “He didn’t?”
“Unfortunately he has a mind like a sponge and the mouth of a parrot. So when he very unfortunately heard Mommy say something on the phone to Daddy, he decided it was only fair that he share it with Grandma. Thankfully, she thinks I like baking with her son.”
“Um . . .” Noah says, walking up to his wife and squeezing her shoulder, like his personal parrot resting on his shoulders eating a Popsicle of all things. “About that . . .”
Zoe’s head snaps around toward her husband. “Oh shi . . . schnitzel. What did you do, Taylor?”
“Mom may have asked me about the fudge we made . . .” His expression turns to a wary one under the intense glare of his wife’s narrowed eyes.
“And . . .” Zoe prompts.
“And . . . well . . . I told her I’d never baked a day in my life.”
“Dammit . . . I mean . . . donut!” Zoe mutters, shaking her head.
“Donut! Donut! Donut!” her son Nate squeals excitedly from Noah’s head.
“Ever noticed that all of your substitute curse words are food, Zoe?” Mia says with a laugh.
Zoe just scowls before reaching up and grabbing Nate. “I want donuts, Mommy,” he demands, smooshing his mom’s cheeks in his hands, totally forgetting about the Popsicle he was holding. The Popsicle that is now also squashed into Zoe’s hair on the side of her head.
“I want a fudge donut. Can we have a fudge donut, Mommy?”
“Go see Aunty Meems, I bet you she knows all about fudge donuts,” Zoe says with a grin, dropping her son into her sister’s lap with a knowing grin.
“It’s Dani that’s the donut queen. She told us, remember?” Mia says, making all the women laugh.
“What’s that about?” I ask Amy under my breath as I sit down in the chair beside her where she’s nursing a now very happy Brody.
She grins at me and shakes her head. “You really don’t want to know about that conversation. Believe me.”
“You saying that tells me I really do.”
“Think about what this group is like, what your friends do with their wives, and then tell me if you want to know what fudge and donuts and Dani knowing all about them, means.”
It takes only a few seconds for everything to click in place. “Oh, fuck no.”
Amy giggles, leaning into my side like it’s the most natural thing in the world. It’s only when she freezes and a little ‘shit’ escapes her lips that she realizes what she’s done.
It’s when she goes to move away that I shoot my arm around her shoulders and stop her in place.
“Stay,” I say quietly, and it’s only when her muscles relax again that I let out the breath I didn’t realize I was holding.
“Thomas?” she whispers but I don’t answer her, I just give her a gentle squeeze of my fingers before pulling her into my side, making it clear that it’s where I want her to be.
And it is.
I just need to make it so it’s where she wants to be too.