Chapter 31
Chapter Thirty-One
TIMOTHY
There was an unknown car parked up at the main house. I figured Mom had company over and barely gave it another thought. My brain was full of all the jobs I’d crammed into a few hours this afternoon, exhaustion, and the weight of the day pressing behind my eyes.
I cut down the brick walkway toward my place. Then I noticed all the lights were on. Not just on. Warm. Golden. Alive.
The second I opened the door, one of Sofia’s favorite country songs blasted loud enough to rattle the windows. Then came shrieking laughter. Pure little-girl joy.
I stopped in the entryway. The kitchen table was set for two. Actual plates. Candles not yet lit. Little hot pads waiting for dishes.
For a second, I just stared. What on earth was Mom doing?
I moved quietly toward the kitchen, meaning to spy on them for a second before announcing myself. And froze.
Gia stood in the middle of my kitchen wearing one of my aprons, her hair loose and messy from dancing. My mother was beside her, both trying to teach Sofia a line dance while the music blasted.
Gia pointed dramatically at Sofia’s sneakers. “No, no, sweetheart. This foot out first. Then this one. Then we turn right.”
Sofia copied her with fierce concentration, tongue peeking from the corner of her mouth.
Mom snapped her fingers. “Now hips, baby. You gotta commit to the hips.”
All three of them turned at once, completely off beat, and dissolved into helpless laughter. The sound loosened all the tension from the day. A laugh escaped me before I could stop it.
All three of them whipped around.
Gia went still first. Like she’d been caught doing something wrong. “You’re back already? You’re early.”
My mother immediately grinned, kissed Gia on the cheek, and pointed at me like she’d orchestrated the entire thing. “Perfect timing. I’m leaving before I become a third wheel.”
“Mom—”
“Nope.” She breezed past me toward the door. “Have fun, you three.”
Sofia squealed and bolted for the fridge. Before I could process what was happening, she came sprinting back carrying one of my beers with both hands like it weighed twenty pounds.
“Miz Gia says you drink this and shower.” She shoved it into my belly proudly. “Then you read to me. Then we made dinner and you eat with Miz Gia.”
My throat tightened so suddenly it caught me off guard. Dinner. They’d made me dinner. Usually, after a day like today I had something microwaved from the freezer, unless mom left something on the table for me. I might also drink a beer and fall asleep on the sofa in front of the TV.
Gia shifted her weight, suddenly shy. Her fingers twisted in the edge of the apron.
“Surprise,” she said softly. “I thought maybe tonight someone should take care of you.” Her eyes lifted to mine. “You’ve been taking care of everyone else.”
I cracked the beer open mostly because I needed something to do with my hands. I took a long swallow to cover the fact my chest felt dangerously full.
“I’ll take a shower,” I managed. I bent and poked Sofia in the belly. “Did you already take a bath?”
She nodded.
“Then, time to get pajamas on.”
She squealed and tore down the hallway.
“Does she need help?” Gia asked.
“Probably.” The last time I let her choose her own nighttime wear, she ended up in a mismatched set that was too small for her. But I kept staring down the hallway after Sofia anyway, my body still stuck somewhere between obligation to go help her and showering.
The moment my body shifted to move after Sofia, Gia caught my arm. She took the beer from my hand, drank from it without breaking eye contact, then handed it back.
“I’ve got her,” she murmured. “You shower.”
I caught her wrist before she could step away and pulled her against me. The apron crinkled between us.
“You didn’t have to do all this,” I said quietly.
Her eyes searched mine. “I did.” Then, softer, “I saw what today cost you. Then you packed an entire day of work into an afternoon. That’s…
too much.” She leaned in and kissed me lightly on the lips.
“I also heard you fixed Josh’s bathroom fan yesterday.
Erika texted me. There were a lot of heart and poop emojis. ”
He chuckled.
“Go take a hot shower.” Her gaze swept slowly down my body and her grin turned mischievous. “Or maybe you need a cold one.” She giggled. “Then you’ll read Sofia to sleep. After that, I’ll open the wine and we can eat. That sound okay?”
I nodded.
“Hey…” She pulled me into a hug when I started to walk away. “This is a meal. You don’t have to be good at conversation. I don’t care if you make a few grunts. Maybe you want to listen to me tell stories of barn calls gone wrong? I’ve got a lot of those. We’re still on your slow-down plan.”
“Not sure I want to be on that anymore.” I leaned in to kiss her again.
She craned back and put a finger on my lips. “Let’s start with food.”
She winked and jogged after Sofia.
An hour and a half later, I’d laughed hard at her stories that ranged from farm hands hitting on her when she was covered in cow manure to psychotic pigs. I raised my beer. “Thank you.”
She clinked her beer gently against mine. “Why don’t you take your beer into the TV room and pick a movie? I’ll do the dishes real quick.”
“I can help.”
“I know.” Her smile softened. “Raincheck? Tonight, I’ve got it.”
I settled onto the couch with an old sci-fi movie I’d seen so many times I could quote half the dialogue in my sleep. The warmth of the room, the beer, the exhaustion pressing behind my eyes—it all dragged me under fast.
At some point, she joined me.
A gentle hand slid into my hair. “Come here.”
Half-asleep, I let her guide my head into her lap. Her fingers worked slowly over my scalp, nails scraping just enough to send a heavy wave of relief through me. Every tight muscle in my body loosened one notch at a time.
“Thank you for everything you did today,” she whispered.
The only thing my brain could produce was a gravelly, “Feels good.”
She laughed softly under her breath, and the sound vibrated through her thighs into my cheek.
I drifted out hard after that.
When I woke again, the TV was still flashing blue light across the room, some alien spaceship exploding while the volume played low. My neck was twisted at an angle guaranteed to hurt tomorrow. I pushed myself upright, blinking through sleep.
I started to ask if her legs were numb, but then I noticed her head tipped against the couch cushion. Out cold. A strand of hair had fallen across her mouth. One hand still rested loosely against my shoulder like she’d fallen asleep making sure I stayed there.
Carefully, I slid an arm beneath her knees and another around her back.
She made a sleepy little sound and curled closer against me as I carried her down the hall.
I got her onto the bed, eased off her shoes, then stripped out of my jeans and shirt before climbing in beside her.
The mattress dipped as I pulled her against my chest.
She sighed in her sleep and tucked into me.
For the first time in weeks, the constant pressure in my ribs eased. Both my girls were under one roof.
Nobody was alone. Nobody was out there getting hurt. I didn’t have to wonder if Gia was about to get attacked or be on an emergency call, wrestling a thousand pounds of dangerous horseflesh with a personal vendetta against veterinarians.
For one night, she was here. Safe.