Chapter 9
Leo
I should be unpacking.
We've been here how long now? And half of our lives is still in boxes scattered all over the house. We're still eating out of disposable dishes. Brent still needs new clothes.
But I'm fucking overwhelmed with everything. I feel like I'm drowning. I just need a minute. I feel like I haven't taken a breath in forever.
Charlie is on the porch with Brenton. I watch through the glass door as my son animatedly tells a story, complete with flapping hand gestures and lively facial expressions.
Charlie laughs. I worry.
The kid can't sit still these days. He has more energy than he knows what to do with. More energy than I know what to do with.
I grab the whiskey and a plastic cup from the cabinet and drop into a chair. What I really want is a cigarette but Brenton doesn't need to know his dad has devolved into a nicotine-junkie chain-smoker.
So fucking stressed...
I wonder if he’s okay. He hasn't asked about his mother this entire time. Not once. Is that normal? Should I take him to see a shrink? I don’t know what the hell to do these days.
Someone enters the yard. I see her approaching.
Long, mahogany hair falling down her narrow shoulders…a yellow dress that props up her gorgeous tits…the best ass I've ever seen.
Fuck—it's Reese, looking as pretty and angelic as ever.
She's standing on the porch next to Charlie now, petite and curvy. Smiling down at Brenton. He says something to her and she laughs, tipping her head back and exposing the creamy length of her neck. That's all it takes to have my body throbbing. She sets a bag on the table beside the grill then she crouches down beside my son and whispers into his ear. They both look at Charlie and burst into giggles. I find myself smiling, too.
As if controlled by some invisible force, I’m rising out of my chair and sliding the door open.
She looks at me and my heart stops. God, she's beautiful.
She stumbles a bit as she rises to her feet. Her eyes blink rapidly like the fluttering of butterfly wings and she sucks in sharply. “Hi…” she says, sounding breathless. Tension melts from my limbs as she smiles and her cheeks flush. Her fingers knot in the hem of her dress. She's nervous again. So fucking adorable.
Our gazes lock for a long second and I feel fireworks crackling up my spine. “Hi…”
God, I want to get closer to her. Even from this distance, she smells sweet. Like vanilla and brown sugar and something soft, feminine. Breathing her in is entirely more calming than sucking down a pack of cigarettes.
I want to run my hands over her curves and cup the swell of her breasts. I want to taste her lips. They look like strawberries. Do they really taste like strawberries? I want to tangle my fingers in her hair. I want to—
“Daddy! I eated three popsicles!” Brenton’s proud announcement snaps me out of my fantasy.
I tear my focus away from Reese and bring my gaze to my son who is now bouncing in place, waiting for my reaction. His hands and mouth are covered in purple syrup. “Brenton—it’s ‘ate’, not ‘eated’. And I told you—no junk food for you. You’re on punishment.”
Charlie throws an indignant glance over his shoulder. “For what?” He says it like he can’t possibly fathom the idea of my rugrat causing mischief.
“He got in trouble in the after-school program. For putting finger-paint in some little girl’s hair.”
Charlie puts down the tongs and twists around to face Brent. "Now, why'd you do that, buddy?"
A puppy-dog look comes over the child's eyes and his attention falls to his ratty sneakers. His shoulders scrunch up to his ears before dropping dramatically. "I don't know...I just felt like it." Charlie's lips curve up but he chokes down his laugh.
I doubt he’ll be laughing for long. “Now, he’s kicked out of the program and I don’t have anywhere to leave him on Monday afternoon. Preschool ends at 3:00 so I’m gonna have to leave work early every day until I can figure something out.”
All signs of amusement melt from Charlie’s face. He looks at me. "Man, I need you. You can’t be taking time off. Sophia and Josh's wedding is in three weeks. They wanna move into the house right after the honeymoon."
I turn up my palms and shrug helplessly. "There's nothing I can do. They kicked Brent out of the program and they won't take him back.” I practically begged for a second chance because it's the only after-school program for preschoolers in this town. But they’d already made up their minds. They don’t want him.
"Holy hell..." Charlie grunts under his breath. He pivots back toward the grill. "Isn't there someone you know who can watch him while you're at work?"
"I just moved to town. I don't know anybody here." I shove my hands through my hair in frustration.
"You could put up flyers for a babysitter,” my friend suggests.
I scoff. "I'm not gonna send my kid off to the house of some stranger I found off of a flyer. You never know with people these days. They do the strangest things behind closed doors." Maybe I’m just being overprotective but handing my son over on some random’s front steps just isn’t going to work for me.
Charlie’s ribcage expands on a deep, frustrated inhale. "So, what am I supposed to do? I don't want to put any pressure on you but I have a deadline. I have a picky-ass client to satisfy."
As Charlie spins back toward me, his eyes snag on his sister who’s been standing there quietly the whole time, back pressed against the porch’s railing, fingers twisting in front of her. He halts as the idea takes form in his mind.
Reese’s eyes are round and anxious and she's looking right at me.