7. Hayes #2
“I’m sure your mom has it stored away for you. I also make Lola little dresses sometimes. I sew, too. Anyhow, have you enjoyed your first week at Haven Crossroads?” she pries. Her bare feet are tucked under her knees as she sits comfortably, resting against the back of the sofa.
I finish my sip of expensive French wine.
“Yeah, everyone has their head in the game. Connecting with the leadership team was never going to be an issue. My schedule is already full. I’ll have to visit our London office soon, among other places.
Dinners, and more dinners—if in doubt, there’s always another added to my calendar.
I’m happy to have a low-key day off.” I chortle, swirling my wine.
“Well, low-key is a stretch. Kind of a big deal, since I’m getting to know my daughter. ”
“So far so good.”
The gentle features of her face, accompanied by her subtle smile, calm me. Our eyes catch, and for the millionth time, they hold, no words needed. Sometimes I wonder what she is keeping inside her head, while other times, I’m able to read her as if it’s second nature.
She narrows her eyes at me, and her head tilts slightly. “I’ve learned something about you this week.”
“What might that be?” I’m intrigued.
“Although I met you as a man with persuasiveness, I didn’t expect you to be someone who enjoys power.” She sets her glass down.
Smirking at her observation, I find it slightly humorous when someone forms opinions about me. “How so?”
Elodie laughs under her breath. “The way you walked into the news with only your way as the option, the way you walk around the office very self-aware that people admire you, and the way you look at me feels somewhat possessive, to be honest.”
My hand slides a little above her knee, a move that probably confirms everything she just said. “True. I tend to lead the way. And of course I’m possessive of you. You’re the mother of my child.”
Her breath hitches from my choice of words as our eyes remain fixed on one another.
I continue. “You can’t be surprised by that.” Inching closer to her, she remains still. “You’re a great mom, Elodie. I see it. I don’t deny it. How you cut her food, teach her manners, or tuck her in for a nap. The little things. But I’m here now. You’re going to have to let me in on all of that.”
Her fingers find my wrist, and the tips begin to feather my skin in strokes as her eyes dip down to watch. “I am, trust me.”
“Good. Now enjoy your wine,” I order.
She begins to grin again. “I don’t often drink around her.
I save it all for my after-work drinks with Savannah, and sometimes another friend, Sutton.
When I can get a sitter, of course. I try to avoid department drinks and keep those connections to birthday cake in the staff room.
Out of work, I just need my time to disconnect, away from mom life and work. ”
“I still find it a little funny that you are a numbers kind of girl. On the island, I got the sense your job would be something smart, but it’s unexpected. I just didn’t think it would be in finance and at Haven.”
“Small world, right? I guess I also need to see your merman skills in the pool one day. Let’s see if you live up to all the talk you gave.”
Chuckling, I’m riding the flow of this conversation. “I would love to teach Lola to swim and to prove you wrong. Obviously, you’ll need to be in a swimsuit too.” I flash my eyes at her.
“Slipping that in, are you?”
“Innocent until proven guilty.”
The room grows completely still again, and we both focus on where our fingers are finding a home. I stroke the side of her thigh but keep it innocent. Her own hand begins to travel up my arm. Our touches are light, grazing, and still overload my senses.
“You shouldn’t be attracted to me if it’s only because I’m the mother of your child,” she warns me.
“It’s not that. Wasn’t I attracted to you years ago? Have I not thought about you since then? Lola maybe adds an extra factor, but she isn’t the reason. I could ask you the same thing.”
She grimaces. “I knew you were going to throw that back at me. And truthfully… it’s the same.”
“We’re aligned then.”
But she presses her lips together and thinks for a second.
“Actually, it’s kind of different. Since then, you got to imagine me as the woman you met.
I’ve thought of you, always have. I just had to think of you knowing you are also Lola’s father.
It’s an extra connection or gravitation.
Does that make sense? I need to separate attraction because of us or attraction because of the way we are connected. ”
It makes sense, but I don’t enjoy the complication of her thought process.
She diverts her gaze away. However, I’m too far gone. I need to open Pandora’s box. I’m a man who accepts challenges.
Fuck it.
“Elodie.”
Our eyes meet. Are they conveying a dare? Doesn’t matter. I’m confident with my choice.
Leaning in, our space begins to close. She doesn’t back away.
Instead, her hand begins to tighten around my arm, as though she needs to hang on, as she doesn’t intend to flee.
With her eyes wide and searching, I bring my hand beneath her chin, hooking a finger to tip up her chin.
I need to do this carefully because the magnitude of how we feel physically with one another has consequences.
My lips meet hers. Slow, steady, and familiarity is there.
I don’t need longer to figure it out. It’s already proven.
All because I want more. My hand floats down to rest on her waist, and as our kiss continues, the palm of her hand meets my chest, her lips seeking more pressure from mine.
I want to take more, but I'm aware that this is to explore our curiosity. One more angle, then a feathery chase of her lips as we gather a new breath, and I feel the static energy between us.
The moment she pulls away, I take satisfaction in the way she keeps her eyes closed, still soaking in our kiss, remembering.
When her eyes flicker open, I greet her with a smirk that informs her that I’ve been proven right.
A few days ago, she warned me about co-parenting only, but I’m not going to let her call the shots.
Not now that it’s blatantly obvious that our physical connection has never been broken with time.
I don’t want to be the man who holds legal documents over Elodie’s head to get what I want, but a part of me could resort to that.
I'm struggling to keep the business part of me separate from my private life on this one, but it’s a challenge because I’m infatuated with this woman on a romantic and physical level.
Scorching the earth has never been my play, but right now, I’m a man who has no intention of letting her run away.
Exploring what could be between us isn’t just for Lola, it’s for us.
That’s not being selfish, and even if it was, I don’t think I’d give a damn.
Elodie silently curses to herself as she unglues our lips. "We can't do this with Lola in the room," she whispers.
She has a point. It's careless on our part, but by no means an error or mistake. I let the moment between us stretch, still tied together purely by our pull.
Until she backs up to safety, and our space returns.
She brings her fingers to pinch the bridge of her nose to cope with the fact that she just gave in to me. “This is not what was supposed to happen today,” she reminds herself, but I see the tiny smile struggling to hide.
“Get used to it, Elodie. I don’t think I listen to you so well.”
She throws me a glare. “Yeah, point proven by your comment earlier about your need to always have it your way.”
Am I giving her a sly smirk? Probably. “Learn to enjoy it.”
She nibbles the corner of her lip and chuffs a deep chuckle to herself. “Great.” Moving her body, she grabs her wine from the side and takes a long drink.
“How much left of her nap?” I slide my vision to Lola, who is sound asleep.
“Maybe twenty minutes more.”
“When she wakes up?” I ask firmly, and she knows what I mean.
Elodie glances down into her half-empty white wine. It’s the longest pause in conversation in my life. “Yes.”
I sigh in relief because not telling Lola who I am was beginning to wear me down, but now we’re going to do it.
“Good. I’ll let you lead the conversation,” I assure her, and I stretch my arm along the back of the sofa to touch her shoulder.
At first, it’s a gesture of comfort, but I’d be lying if it wasn’t selfish.
Having her near yet not being able to touch her doesn’t make sense to me.
“I’m not sure I’ll say the right thing, but I might just talk in her language and use two words.” She scoffs a laugh.
“Safe bet.”
We talked more about life, and I avoided making her blush again.
Thirty minutes later, after Lola stirred awake and she was fully up with a snack in her belly, we all sat on the floor.
She already started pouring tea from the set, and I’m grateful I found the off button on the pot because that song was going to annoy me.
Elodie and I feel one another’s nerves, and my heart thumps hard.
“Thank you for the tea.” Elodie raises her little teacup to our daughter.
I pretend to sip my tea while I wait for Elodie to take the plunge.
She grabs Lola’s attention through eye contact. “Lola. Daddy.” Elodie points to me. Our daughter doesn’t get it. “Daddy, Lola.” She points again.
“Daddy.” I attempt to help, and my hand lands on my heart.
She swings her gaze between us. She says nothing and begins to play again.
It’s not that I’m disappointed that this didn’t turn into a big event for us, but maybe I am. On the other hand, my daughter seems kind of chill.
“She’s two,” Elodie reminds me. “Pink toys always win the conversation.” She attempts to make me smile.
And when I look at Lola, happily comfortable, then I smile too.