Chapter 10 #2
That’s where you’re wrong, Little Man…
“Do you want to know my sunshine and rain?” Presley responds, not even acknowledging the statement.
“Yes.”
“Well, my rain—”
I reach over, hitting the power button on the monitor as quickly as I can. Listening to Otis’s answers was one thing. Listening to Presley’s…that feels like a bridge too far. Makes me feel like I’m creeping on her.
Plus, I don’t think I can stand hearing her say that her rain was that I came over and watched movies. I’m too in my feels at the moment, all tenderized from so much cuteness in one single three-year-old.
Only problem is now it’s too quiet in here. Being left alone with my thoughts is never a good idea.
I pull out my phone, setting it on the counter and starting a random playlist I have loaded. Kenny Chesney blasts through the little speaker, the almost tinny sound helping drown out everything, allowing me to focus back on the dishes.
Which is exactly what I do.
I dance around the kitchen, each new song giving me the energy I need to get it all taken care of, plus wipe down some extra surfaces. Losing track of time, I continue to move, not paying attention to anything else around me.
“I thought you didn’t dance.”
Busted…
I spin around, eyes landing on a still frazzled and exhausted looking brunette.
Taking a moment to drink her in, I revel in her simple beauty, even when looking like she could collapse at any moment.
Something about her sings to me, making me want to take her in my arms and tell her it’s all taken care of.
I turn the music down, but not off, letting “Somewhere With You” still play in the background as I step toward her.
“Being unwilling to do Cupid’s wobble on video is different from not dancing at all.”
“The Cupid Shuffle and the Wobble are two different dances,” she says with a laugh, shaking her head. “And neither would be what you would be doing in the video.”
“Still not a fan.”
Presley nods, walking fully into the kitchen, her gaze scanning the scene.
“You cleaned?”
I shrug. “Felt like I should make myself useful. And the last thing you need to worry about right now is the dishes.”
“Thank you.”
“Of course.”
Silence takes over, the two of us standing and staring at each other. I need to do something. Make a move of some kind. I just don’t know what.
Kenny fades, slipping into “Chasing Falling Stars.” Apparently Dustin Wild’s got my back.
“Dance with me.”
“What?” Presley’s face scrunches, her recoil sending her a half step backward.
I hold out my hand, like I’m Leonardo DiCaprio in that meme, sans coupe glass. Seconds pass, feeling like forever as I wait for her to react. To slip her hand in mine so I can pull her close.
“Dance with me.”
“You didn’t want to dance with me before.”
Before. As in high school. Prom.
My gut wrenches. She’s right. Sorta. It’s what she believes—because it’s what I said.
Time to make up for it now.
“Dance with me, Presley. Please,” I plead softly.
Breath hitching, Presley gently takes my hand, stepping into me even more, her skin soft against mine.
I close my hand around hers, my other arm snaking around her waist, landing on her lower back and drawing her in.
I can feel her shuddered breath ripple through her body, the two of us pressed together leaving only enough room for a whisper.
I move us in time with the music—slowly, carefully—letting the soft, easy melody surround us. This is the kind of song that was created for one reason, and one reason alone—holding that special someone close.
Exactly what I’m doing.
“Who’s Socks?” I ask, keeping us on beat.
“Otis’s favorite stuffie. A little panda bear whose coloring makes him look like he’s wearing socks,” she answers, looking at me like I just asked her to run away to Narnia. “How’d you…”
Her head whips over to the counter, an exasperated sigh following almost immediately.
“Did you hear everything?”
“Not everything. I did catch that Little Man is already a stranger danger expert and taught Socks everything he knows.”
Presley giggles. “He did. Now if only he would practice what he preaches. My threenager is really working hard at figuring out his independence, and what he can and can’t get away with.
He’s also a bit of an escape artist, and short of putting an actual leash on him, keeping him by our sides is sometimes easier said than done.
Overall, I can’t complain though. He’s a good kid. ”
“Threenager—I like that.”
“It’s the truth. I know he’s not all that different from any other kids his age, but doing this on my own has been tough. Moving back to Hickory Hills was never in the plan, but it’s been nice to be able to have my parents close again. Goodness knows I’m going to need them.”
I want to ask what happened with Otis’s dad so badly I can taste it.
Is he still alive? In the picture somehow?
Does she know who he is? The question is on the tip of my tongue, but I hold back.
Sure, Presley walked through that door, but that doesn’t mean I have to hold it open.
Prying is not what I’m after. If she wants me to know, she’ll offer it up.
Instead, I go a different route. One that I hope will ease the rest of the tension in her body.
“You’re a good mom,” I whisper, lowering my head so that I can say it right into her ear.
Presley relaxes in my arms, looking up at me. Those slate-colored eyes hypnotize me, the rest of the world falling away. Nothing else exists right now except for her.
Her and these weird things she’s making me feel.
“Funny, that’s not what you said last week. Or the week before.”
Yeah…about that…
“I’m a jackass. But I’m pretty sure you know that.”
Giggling, she sighs, leaning her head against my chest. My heart thumps against my ribs, suddenly making me incredibly self-conscious that she can hear that. That she’ll know the effect she’s having on me.
“I’m not convinced. I think you want me to think that. But a true jackass wouldn’t have stayed. Wouldn’t have introduced my boy to The Rescuers Down Under.”
“I don’t want you to think that,” I admit. The revelation is shocking, to both her and me, but it’s easily the most honest I’ve been in a long time. And now that it’s out, I want to make it perfectly clear. “I don’t want you to think that at all. And I don’t want Otis to think it either.”
“He doesn’t.”
“I figured, since I was his sunshine for the day.”
Presley freezes, eyes going wide as she looks up at me again. “What else did you hear?”
My pulse leaps, mind running wild as I wonder what I missed. Turning it off and not eavesdropping was the right thing to do, but clearly something else was said that is making her nervous.
“That was it. I turned it off after that. It felt like I was invading a private moment.”
“Oh.”
Oh?!
Presley rests her head against my shoulder again, nuzzling into my neck. Her breath tickles my skin and I tighten my grip on her, loving every second of this. I continue to hold her close, swaying to the music, one song fading into another, the similar slow tempo keeping us in the moment.
“Jace?”
“Yeah?”
“You were my sunshine for the day too.”
I step back, my heart stopping just long enough to leap into my throat. Did she just say what I think she said?
Holy shit.
Sweeping a lock of hair out of her face, I respond the only way I can think to—by lowering my head and capturing her lips in mine.
Time stops as our mouths meet, the silky skin of her lips rendering my mind completely blank. I feel like a caveman, my thoughts nothing but a series of grunts and heavy breathing, so overwhelmed from the simple touch.
Presley whimpers, pushing to her toes and wrapping her arms around my neck. Fuck, yes. I deepen the kiss, running my fingers through her hair as I seek out her taste, still unable to form a real thought. There’s too much going on, my system short-circuiting.
I’m kissing Presley Callahan.
My teenage self would be so jealous.
Slowly, I pull back. Not because I want to. Oh no, I want to get lost in this woman’s kisses for the rest of time. But I know I can’t. At least not right now. I need to catch my breath. I need to figure out if she’s feeling this too.
Stepping back, I put an inch of space between us. The small gap feels like it’s the Grand Canyon, my pulse rushing through my veins like it’s driving the Daytona 500.
Presley’s hand flies over her mouth, her eyes meeting mine. I don’t bother to fight back my smile, just as shocked as she is by the power of that kiss. For the first time in my life, I think I actually understand what all those books mean by feeling weak in the knees.
But then she wretches.
Once. Twice. A third time.
Followed by a projectile spew that reminds me of a busted pipe, vomit now dripping down the front of my shirt.
That was not the reaction I was expecting…