Chapter 9

just like heaven

“You ready to have dinner with our hot neighbor, my little guy?”

He smiles at me and finally decides to be somewhat compliant as I get him into his nicest onesie I have for him. Grey’s all smiles when Ronnie is around. He’s already a flirt and he’s only six months old. I’m thankful for him, though; every time she bends down to tell him something, I get an amazing view of her tits. What male doesn’t appreciate that? Hell, she could talk to him all day and I’d be more than happy to watch.

“Ronnie’s going to cook us dinner—but unfortunately you’re getting your formula, buddy.”

Grey frowns as if he knows exactly what I’m saying to him. I laugh at his expression and then look down at my phone to check the time. It’s almost three o’clock and I wonder if there’s anything I should do as a last-minute preparation. As sad as it sounds, I’ve never been to a girl’s house for dinner. I’ve only been on one date period and it was barely a date. It was my junior year of high school and I went to the movies with a girl in my grade. We ended up making out in the back of the theater before taking that party to the back of my dad’s car. The idea of having dinner with my neighbor puts me on edge. I’ve never been this on edge.

I’ve never cared enough about anything to feel nervous before. Usually, I remained pretty unattached to the women in my life. Sure, I’ve experienced some level of emotion with a few of them, but not really in a romantic way. I barely know Ronnie, but she seems like she’d be the type of girl I could become emotionally invested in. She’s the type of girl I’d be proud to call mine if I were looking for that sort of thing. However, a relationship isn’t something I need right now. A friendship, however… I laugh at the thought of being “just friends” with a girl like Ronnie. If I were her friend I’d still want to rip out the throat of any guy who touched her.

I quickly switch gears because I know this isn’t the type of thing I need to be fucking thinking about. I need to focus on Grey and myself. I’ve experienced so much growth already and I don’t want a relationship to possibly hinder that. But I already gravitate toward her so much.

“Should we get something for Ronnie?” I ask him, as I consider getting her something from the supermarket. I can’t buy wine—which I know is usually what people do in this sort of situation—but perhaps I could buy her flowers? Or would that send the wrong message? Maybe a dessert?

“God, Grey. I wish you could help me.”

An hour later, I’m standing in the supermarket with Grey strapped against my chest, asleep in his baby sling. I’ve walked around the store aimlessly, trying to find a fucking clue as to what I should get her. Flowers seem to send the wrong idea and wine is out, of course. I end up in the bakery trying to decide on whether I should buy a cake and try to pass it off as something I made myself. Maybe I should just buy her a box of chocolates and forget all the pretenses. Grey begins to stir, and I know a tantrum is coming on if I don’t get out of the store soon.

“Come on, Grey. I’m almost done, buddy,” I assure him as I quickly make my way to the candy aisle.

I get a few appraising looks from women as I pass them by. The “old” me probably would’ve stopped to flirt and get their numbers—despite the fact they’re twice my age. However, now I give them a smirk and continue on my way. I guess there’s something about a guy like me with a baby that really catches people’s attention.

“What do you think, buddy? You think she’s an expensive chocolate type of girl?” I ask my cranky, little baby as I pull a box of Godiva from the shelf and head to the checkout.

Grey manages to suppress his tantrum until we reach the parking lot. Thankfully, as soon as I wrap my arms around him and give him my undivided attention, he calms down a smidge. “What’s wrong, Grey?” I ask as I lightly bounce him up and down. Then I smell it. “Come on, buddy. Now? I just changed you.” I jog us to the car, throw my bag inside before taking Grey back inside the store and to the bathroom. Turns out, there isn’t a changing table in the guy’s restroom. Fuck, what do I do now! I step outside the restroom door, looking frantic until an elderly woman coming out of the women’s restroom takes pity on me.

“You can go inside and I’ll watch the door for you,” she says with a sympathetic smile. “No one else is in there.”

I quickly thank her before heading inside and rushing into the handicap stall with the changing table. I’ve never changed him in public and it’s definitely fucking stressful. I change him quickly, trying to coax him into being compliant, so we can get this over with and head to Ronnie’s. He must take pity on me because after a few minutes of kicking and almost peeing in my face, he lets me clean him up and finish getting a fresh diaper on him. The elderly woman suppresses a laugh as she sees me all but run out of the women’s restroom.

“Thanks again,” I call over my shoulder, giving her an appreciative smile before heading straight to the parking lot.

We arrive at Ronnie’s door twenty minutes late. Luckily, we’re not coming empty-handed. Girls like Godiva chocolates, right? She opens the door after the second knock and my mouth waters at the sight of her. She’s in a nice cotton dress with a blue apron on. What I wouldn’t give to have a moment alone to take her into the kitchen and bend her over the table… Grey’s loud squeal interrupts that train of thought.

“And I was just starting to worry about you two not coming,” she comments with a beautiful smile, taking a step back and opening the door to welcome us inside.

I can’t stop starting at her. She’s fucking stunning. Her long hair is pulled away from her face in a high ponytail and she has a minimal amount of makeup on, just like I like it. Ironically, she looks just like the girl next-door, which just happens to be the theme of most of my fantasies.

“Sorry we’re late.” I give her a sheepish smile, handing her the box of chocolates in hopes they’ll make her smile. “We went to the store to buy you these and then Grey had a bit of an accident.” Maybe I shouldn’t talk about shit and chocolate in the same sentence.

“That was really thoughtful of you, Trev.” Trev! She’s given me a nickname already! God, I love hearing her say my name like that. “You guys can make yourselves at home. I’m just finishing up dinner right now.”

“What are we having?” I ask as I follow her into her living room and take a quick look around. Her apartment is tidy and really fucking nice. She definitely works with the space she’s given, which I know is something I could never do. Her apartment looks like a home while mine just looks, well, lived-in. Maybe if I spend enough time with her I’ll pick up on some of her good qualities.              

“We’re having manicotti,” she says with a charming smile, obviously proud of how the dinner’s coming along so far. Hell, she could burn something, and it would be far better than anything I could ever cook. “It’s an old family recipe.”

“I’m sure it’ll be amazing,” I tell her, unable to keep my eyes from raking over her.

She sucks in a breath and trembles before shaking her head as if she were trying to expel whatever thoughts she was having. I can only hope those thoughts were about me. “Well, I’ll be in the kitchen finishing up.” She’s somewhat breathless as she darts out of the room.

I can’t stop smiling as I bounce Grey in my arms and take a closer look around her living room. She has three bookshelves, a small television, and a couch. I can imagine her snuggled up on that thing with a good book in her hands, looking adorable as her expression changes with every word that she reads. She’s obviously the type of girl who enjoys a good book. I used to love to read when I was younger. Before I got involved with the “bad crowd” in high school, I’d come home from school every day and grab a good sci-fi book. I read through most of the Star Wars expanded universe novels and I immersed myself in anything written by Frank Herbert. I used to love spending my afternoons locked in my room reading while my brother was at one of his many sports practices. Dean was the star athlete while I was a major loner. I loved being a loner, though. Still do in fact. I don’t need a bunch of friends to make me happy because I entertain myself most of the time. Parties aren’t my thing anymore. At twenty-four, I already feel too old to spend my nights drunk and my days hungover.

As Ronnie’s finishing up dinner, I can’t help but snoop at her books, wanting to know the type of stuff she’s into. Her tastes are eclectic, ranging from nineteenth century British literature to a large variety of paranormal romances and science fiction novels. I pull one of her romance novels off the shelf and skim through it, trying not to laugh as I read about “hard cocks” and “heaving bosoms.” I can see why she has so many of these. I smile as I continue to skim her shelves, stopping as I come across an array of pictures. There are a few of a much younger Ronnie, with a girl who looks very similar to her. Maybe a twin or a sister very close in age? There’s one in particular I stop to study. With light brown hair, bright eyes, and missing teeth, it takes me a moment to realize it’s a photo of Ronnie. Her arms are wrapped around a woman who looks to be in her late thirties—who looks like a beautiful, older version of her. This woman must be her mom. Well, Ronnie’s definitely going to age well.

“Are you ready for dinner?” Ronnie asks, with a bit of awkwardness in her voice. I turn around to find her looking skittish as she realizes I’ve been checking out her things.

Suddenly, I feel as if I’ve made an error. I’ve intruded on something personal and it’s obvious I’ve upset her. I give her a sheepish smile and she gives me a tight one in return. I don’t want to recognize the pain in her eyes because it fucking hurts to see her upset. I hope I haven’t messed this up already because in the few hours I’ve known her, I already feel comfortable around her. “Did I—” I begin to ask, but Ronnie quickly interrupts me.

“The manicotti is ready, and I made garlic bread, too.” Her cheery voice doesn’t match her uncomfortable demeanor.

Whatever is troubling her I’ll never know because I wouldn’t dream of pressing her any further. I know how much I hate that shit. I want to mourn the loss of my brother in peace and I don’t need people constantly asking me twenty questions about it. I know everyone means well, but I don’t want to drudge up some painful memories just to spin a story for someone—so they can feel sorry for me. My silence seems to relax her and all the tension in her body seems to dissipate as soon as we’re in her kitchen.

My eyes widen in shock as I see the lengths she went to for tonight. Maybe she does this whenever she has company, but I like to think that all this effort is for me and me alone. “This is incredible,” I say as I eagerly take a seat with Grey comfortably in my lap. I tear my eyes away from her body long enough to look at the meal sitting in the center of the table. I’ve never had a dinner like this. My mom would cook every now and then, but most of the time she would order expensive takeout or we’d go out to dinner at a nice restaurant in town. She’d never go all out like Ronnie did tonight.

“Jesus, Ronnie. You didn’t have to do all this,” I say as I practically salivate at the sight of the meal she prepared. I’ve got to come up with a way to pay her back for all this hard work.

“Well, it’s my way of saying ‘welcome to the neighborhood,’ ” she tells me with a flirty grin. Maybe it’s just wishful thinking on my part, since I’m sure I’m not the type of man she probably goes for—but she seems into me. “So, have you lived in Evergreen long?” she asks as she grabs my plate to serve me.

“Born and raised,” I respond as I eagerly accept my plate of food. “I spent the last five years traveling all over the U.S. and spent the last two years in Cali before I decided to come back.”

Grey reaches for the food on my plate but I stop him, which causes him to become fussy again. Probably sensing the impending tantrum, Ronnie rises from her chair and glances around her kitchen. “I have some yogurt if you think he’d like it.” I give her a thankful smile and she rushes toward the refrigerator, coming back with vanilla yogurt and a spoon. “I hope this helps.”

“I gave him his bottle before we came over,” I tell her as I open the yogurt and scoop up a small amount, before spooning it into Grey’s mouth. He takes a little bite and smiles at me.

“Yeah, but he’s watching you with your hot plate of food and probably wishing he had something more substantial than formula,” she teases me as she sits back down in her chair across from mine.

“You’re right about that. I’m never sure what to feed him half the time. Everything just seems so risky,” I explain, kicking myself for not buying a baby book. I’m definitely going straight over to the town’s used book store tomorrow after work to purchase one.

“I understand that. I used to be terrified when I would watch my niece, Harper. Children seem so small and fragile; it definitely takes a while to realize they’re not as breakable as we think.” I’m happy she doesn’t ask me why I don’t know much about babies. I don’t want to explain why or how I recently became Grey’s guardian. One day I’ll tell her all about Dean, but I’m not ready for that day to be today. I’m not ready to talk about his death with anyone.

“I just can’t believe how little babies are,” I quietly muse as I feed Grey his yogurt.

“You’re really good with him,” she says after a long moment of watching us together.

I smile, content with her compliment. I don’t get compliments very often, and every time I do I feel like it must be some sort of mistake. Sure, I seem good with him now, but I’m positive I’m doing something wrong. I know nothing about being a parent and I’ve never been around a baby before I met Grey. I can’t be too good at caring for him. I thank her for her compliment anyway, despite not believing it.

“I don’t know about that,” I say looking up from Grey to give her a sly smile. She smiles back and begins to eat her food. “He’s just an easy baby to take care of. He makes my job pretty easy.”

She giggles at this and takes a sip of her water before saying, “You don’t give yourself enough credit.”

Maybe she’s right, but I haven’t really ever given myself much credit for anything. Hell, I’ve never done anything right to take the credit for. She smiles as she watches me help Grey finish up his meal before I start on my own. We fall into an easy conversation and I’m astounded by the number of things I have in common with this woman. For someone who’s accomplished so much in her twenty-five years, she’s incredibly laid-back and doesn’t have an ego. She’s a simple girl, but she’s really more extraordinary than she gives herself credit for. I guess that’s how I appear to her. We both seem to downplay all of our strengths. When I’m talking to Ronnie, hours fly by like minutes and before I know it, Grey is falling asleep in my arms.

“I better get going,” I regretfully say, not wanting to leave her side after the amazing night we had together. “It’s past Grey’s bedtime and he’s going to get cranky if he’s not in his crib soon.”

“I totally understand,” she responds with a coquettish grin before rising from the table to walk Grey and I to her door. “It was really nice having you over, Trev. I could definitely use a few more friends around here. Outside of my sister, I’m practically a hermit,” she says with a snort.

Hearing her say “friends” puts a damper on the evening, but I know I can’t expect any more from her. She barely knows me and I barely know her. She could have a boyfriend already or maybe I’m just not her type. Hell, I’ll take what I can get when it comes to her, though. If being her friend is the best I can achieve then I’ll be more than happy to slide into that position. Maybe one day she’ll see me as more than that. Although, it’s not like I really need a relationship to complicate my already hectic life right now.

“I definitely hear you,” I tease her as I look down at the sleeping baby in my arms, “Grey’s pretty much the only person I hang out with these days.”

“Well, maybe we can all hang out together then.”

“My door is always open.” 

“I won’t be a stranger then,” I hear her respond, making me grin as I return to my empty apartment.