6. Este
ESTE
I lie awake until three-thirty in the morning, my heart thumping from off-the-charts anxiety, a headache forming in my temples, and my daughter cuddled up in bed next to me. She’s tossing and turning like a madman.
We’d gotten Sam home safely at nearly one in the morning; her mother got ahold of her nineteen-year-old daughter, who had, until now, been a responsible young woman. She determined Willow, too, was safe.
Thanks to Dom, we got through the day. Meeting him in the creek was the happiest of accidents, and he’s part of why I’m up so late daydreaming like a schoolgirl. Like I used to about Cole, when I was just a teenager.
The feel of Dom’s pec beneath my hand.
His soft lips on my forehead.
I have to admit the truth: I’m smitten, and that fact leaves me shaken.
I hadn’t expected to meet someone like Dom just after the three-year anniversary of my husband’s death, and part of me isn’t sure I’m ready yet.
Three years sounds like enough to most people, but I’d spent half my life with Cole, and he’s all I know. Knew.
The part of me that tingles every time Dom’s near seems to win out over my nerves, since I grab my phone at five and text him.
Me:
Still obnoxiously awake, heart pounding in my ears.
It’s entirely possible you saved our lives last night, and I don’t remember if I thanked you, so, thank you.
I didn’t expect the evening to go down like that, or for you to meet Reed so soon, but she’s given her stamp of approval. I hope to see you soon.
My phone vibrates only seconds later with Dom’s reply.
Dom:
Hey, sweetness. What time does Reed leave for practice today? I’m glad Reed likes me. I like her a lot, too. She’s a sweet kid. No thanks necessary.
Me:
She gets picked up at 10:30. Why?
When he tells me he has the morning off, and he’d like to come by, I give him the green light by texting him my address.
Then, I tiptoe into the living room, remove the last remaining family photo from the wall, and quietly add it to Reed’s room on an empty nail.
She’s constantly hanging posters and photos and art, so there’s no shortage of nails to choose from.
It feels strange to erase all evidence of Cole from the house, but if I’m starting anew, I can’t have him staring at me and Dom from atop the fireplace we never use.
I just can’t. There’s already a strange sensation I get sometimes of him looking down on Reed and me, but to have him doing so from our last family photo is too much.
While I’m up, I make a pot of coffee and sit down at the table, pouring creamer heavily into my mug.
That’s where Reed finds me asleep forty-five minutes later. She puts her hand on the back of my neck gently and whispers, “Mom. Mom, you’re asleep on the table.”
Oh, and drooling, too. I pick my head up and look around through bleary eyes.
“You okay to practice today?” I ask her. “Did you get some sleep?”
“Yeah, Mom, I’m good. I was exhausted last night, and Coach won’t let me miss practice anyway.”
“Okay,” I mumble tiredly.
“I’m going out to breakfast with some teammates first, so I’m leaving soon.
Oh, and PS, I finished book one. Freakin’ looooved it.
Like, no cap, Mom, it was so, so good. Since our last names are different, I reviewed it, too.
You have so many kick-ass reviews, and a lot of people are begging you to write the end of the series.
How could you leave it the way you did in book five?
The reviews totally spoiled it for me. I’m not even there yet. ”
I sigh as I stand and pour my cold coffee down the drain, rinsing the mug.
“When your dad died, so did all the words that used to live in my head. And you needed me more than ever before. Plus, I started my job at Mallory’s office, which took up a lot of the hours I used to spend writing.
” I shrug as I pour a fresh cup of coffee, add hazelnut creamer, and turn back to my daughter.
“I don’t regret it one bit. Our family comes first. But I hope the words will come back to me someday, so I can write the last book in a way that gives Kai, Liam, and my other characters the much- needed closure they deserve.
You know, get them through the end of their world. The way we’ve gotten through ours.”
“And the readers. They need closure, too!” Reed pulls on her sneakers and then grabs a smoothie from the fridge. I had already texted Mallory about what happened last night and let her know Dom was coming by, so she was aware I was taking the day off.
Within a few minutes, Reed’s friend pulls into the driveway, and the house plunges into quiet.
At the table, I glance through a packet for a summer camp she wants to go to.
I hate the idea of Reed being gone for two-plus months, but she loves volleyball and swimming.
This place boasts an amazing lake, an Olympic-sized pool for pool volleyball, and so many sand pits she’ll get to play her beloved sport every day.
Her friend will be there, and it’s still possible for Reed to share a room with her.
Finally, I take a comb to my hair, brush my teeth, and put a bra beneath my soft blue tank top with matching pajama pants just in time, because the doorbell rings a second later.
When I swing the door open, a tired-looking Dom is standing on my porch with a familiar bag of donuts.
They are the best donuts south of the Mason-Dixon line from a mom-and-pop shop that’s been in business for sixty years, and they always sell out before 8 a.m. so he must have had some forethought earlier this morning.
My night owl sleep habits make it impossible to enjoy them very often, so I grin at the bag in his hands and beckon him in.
“Welcome! I see you come bearing my very favorite donuts.” He steps through the threshold to my slightly messy house. Hopefully, Dom won’t mind the sink full of dishes and all the cabinet doors left open in Reed’s wake. She’s my little hurricane.
“Good morning, Este. Of course. I figured you had good taste, and I’ve got one of just about everything they had left if you want to dig in.
” He hands me the bag, kicks off his shoes, and then follows me into my kitchen.
I find two plates, ask him if he wants milk (of course he does, who doesn’t dunk their donuts?), and we sit down at the table I’d just been asleep on.
“Rough night, huh?” Dom asks from beside me. His hand rubs up and down my back.
“The roughest. My brain kept wondering what would have happened if Reed hadn’t called me. If you hadn’t been there. If the tornado hadn’t turned. If Reed and Sam had been struck by lightning. If your friend Finn hadn’t picked up.”
Finally, I stop rambling, and Dom pulls me to his side. Leaning on him, I inhale his spicy, citrusy scent and the amber of his aftershave, nuzzling my cheek against his soft, clean-shaven one. No five-o’clock shadow today.
“Rumination. Not uncommon after a traumatic event.” Dom softly reminds me he’s a psychiatrist. Hopefully, he doesn’t think I need one.
“Ah, yes, rumination. My middle name.” I sigh in exasperation.
“Helps just to let yourself feel the emotions so you can process them. Focus on what you do have control over. And getting some proper sleep would go a long way, too.”
I hold up the packet for Reed’s summer camp with one hand and sip my milk with the other. The Bavarian cream donut I selected is one of my favorites, and it melts in my mouth with every bite.
“Volleyball, huh? Well, that makes sense. Reed is as tall as you are.”
“Taller. She’s five-ten, and I’m an inch shy of that. She’s actually the shortest girl on the team, but she’s excellent. I think she might be interested in college volleyball, so that’s a possible scholarship right there. Camp will only advance her skills. But it’s two months and two weeks.”
“Long time for your daughter to be away.” Dom seems to understand why I’m reluctant.
“Yeah, especially after what happened last night. It makes me want to be overprotective.” I stuff my mouth full of a donut as Dom’s hand rests on my thigh.
It sends a warm, tingly sensation through my soft pajama pants, and I fight the lustful thoughts that take over.
My recollection of the entirety of his tall, strong body in the creek comes rushing back.
My ears get hot, and I wonder how pink I’ve turned as I remember the best part of last night, before the tornado struck.
“I heard that they have eleven confirmed fatalities,” I tell Dom. “Mostly from the part of the neighborhood just north of where we were.”
“So sad. There wasn’t much warning, only three minutes. That’s not ideal. If we had taken a different route, we might have been in trouble.”
I squeeze my eyes shut as the night replays in my head. I’d only gotten a brief look at the wedge tornado, and it wasn’t the first one I’d ever seen, but it was the meanest and the closest.
After a cherry donut with sprinkles, I yawn, stretch, and Dom suggests, “How about a nap? You’re exhausted.”
Another yawn erupts from me, so I nod sleepily, take his hand, and lead him through the house to my first-floor primary. My bedsheets are rumpled and unmade, and there’s a heap of dirty clothes on the floor in the corner, but I barely notice that when Dom asks, “Mind if I take off my jeans?”
I giggle. “Hey, I’ve already seen you naked, so go for it. Do you not have to work today?”
“No, my only Monday-afternoon patients both canceled and freed up my day. I stay busy Tuesday through Thursday, and Wednesdays are long. Friday is just paperwork and a couple of patients in the morning.” Dom unbuttons his jeans, and I hear the zipper and the thump of his pants and belt hitting my hardwoods. It makes my heart thump.
“Shirt okay too?” Dom asks.
I bite my lip and manage a nod. When he pulls his shirt over his head and deposits it on the floor, I feel fluttering sensations in my belly. He’s so muscular and handsome. Is this what pining feels like?