Chapter 16
ELODIE
My body begins to move as I struggle to open my heavy eyelids. Stretching out my body, I groan before my eyes give in to the light. Gosh, this bed is heavenly.
Wait.
I nearly shoot up as I remember that I’m in Hayes’s bed.
Glancing over, I see that his side of the bed hasn’t been slept in.
Not a single wrinkle on his pillow. Maybe that means he has no clue I was ever in here because he was always with Lola.
Highly doubtful. I do have logical reasons for being here, I’m just not entirely convinced they are the real reasons.
I stretch my arms high into the air as I leave the bed.
I’m in yoga pants and a shirt that I changed into last night, because Hayes arranged for a delivery from a store near here.
A surprise was he had a bag of knitting supplies delivered since it could be a long weekend and maybe he thinks I need to calm myself.
I’m sure I look disheveled, and I’m scared to look in a mirror.
I’ll figure it out later and see what supplies are waiting for me in the guest bathroom.
Instead, I opt for a messy bun, the solid choice for people to figure out if you are just being lazy or aiming for cute. But I want to hurry and check on Lola.
I comb my fingers through my hair as I walk into the hall and slow my pace to her bedroom next door, but the door is wide open, and the curtains are already drawn to reveal a cloudy morning.
She must have already woken up, and Hayes is with her.
I left them last night when she fell asleep with him.
I’m not sure if she was squeezing Hayes or her bunnies more; either way, my heart was getting squeezed between them purely by the scene.
On my approach to the living area, it doesn’t take long to figure out they’re in the kitchen. I smell something peculiar. It’s not eggs, but it’s not sweet either. I’m not sure it’s breakfast.
The moment I turn the corner, words lodge in my throat. If my body wasn’t fully awake yet, well, now it is.
Hayes is at the stove in sweatpants and no shirt. The guy has lines, and the V under his belly button, heading straight down, leaves little to the imagination. But I’m more of an arm gal, and his toned arms are perfect for wrapping around things. Not overdone but still convey that he’s strong.
He glances up from a pot, and that boyish grin is already making me lightheaded. As I swallow, I move my body along. “Morning.”
“Sleep well?” The way he asks is a taunt, proven by his sly smirk.
Walking to Lola in her highchair, happily eating a cut-up bagel, I get this over with. “Your room is closest to Lola’s so I could hear her. Who cares? You weren’t using your bed anyhow,” I defended without giving him a look.
“Did I say anything?” he says, playing coy.
I throw him a glare over my shoulder, and I see that he’s bringing a cup of coffee to his lips. Turning back to Lola, I smile.
“How are you feeling today, missy?”
“Itchy,” she says, and she doesn’t sound great, but at least her bagel is getting attention. That’s a good sign.
I kiss the top of her head and leave her to grab coffee.
Hayes beats me to it and is already at the machine making me a cup before I make it to the finish line.
I’m grateful because the machine seems confusing.
I stand next to him and watch, making mental notes for next time.
But the problem with this situation is that we are too close to one another.
His closeness means my body is floating, but there’s a tightness between my legs, and my heart races too.
“You know I could point out that you slept in my bed because you feel it’s the right place to be.”
“Coffee,” I flatly reply.
“It’s good to know that you picked a side of the bed. For future reference and all.”
The sound of the machine grinding covers me when I snort a laugh at his morning antics. “Our daughter only wanted you last night. I might as well enjoy sleep.”
He turns halfway with that suave look that weakens me. “Nothing to do with you feeling safe in my bed?” he asks softly before the machine stops right on cue. “Or were you waiting for me?”
My jaw slackens from this circle of taunts that should make me blush because I am the one who voluntarily went to his room. Glancing real quick at Lola, who is staring at her strawberry, debating if it should be eaten, I return to stare at the smug man who is a natural pro at being a dad.
I’m going to stand my ground. “Look, you may have been inside me less than 48 hours ago,” I say in a hushed tone.
His jaw drops, and his eyes blaze, thoroughly entertained. “Elodie, what a dirty little mouth you have, and it isn’t even 8AM.” He hands me my coffee.
I roll my eyes. “Hayes, we are damn good about focusing on Lola when she’s around.” I splay my arm out in the direction of our daughter. “Guess who is around. And while you’re at it, put on a damn shirt. I can't handle it.”
His chuckle doesn’t help the situation, nor does his little salute to me. “Your wish is my command.” He walks away and sweeps his shirt off the counter, then pulls it back on.
It’s in that moment I realize that minus the pox, this is what Saturday morning with him and Lola feels like. It’s cozy is the first thing that comes to mind. It feels normal, too. And for a speck of a second, it's a glimpse of the future if I want it.
I inspect our daughter from afar. “She seems to have multiplied in spots. Some aren’t looking pretty. We’re probably going to need to change her sheets again from all the lotion.”
“I have extra sets of everything. So, no chance of you trying to find an excuse to go home.” Hayes casually sips his coffee while stirring the pot.
A mind reader and apparently a cook. “What is that?”
“Chicken soup made from scratch.”
Blinking my eyes a few times, I wasn’t expecting him to say that. “Homemade? You just happened to have a spare chicken lying around? And you cook? And match the recipe choice with the sick occasion?”
The corner of his mouth snags up. “I had a delivery for the ingredients, and yes, I do cook. My mom’s recipe that she sent me. I only got to have it when I was sick growing up. Figured I would give this a try. Throw in some ABC-shaped pasta and hope it passes Lola’s test, right?”
Taking a quick sip of my coffee as I rest against the counter, the wheels begin to turn in my head about one aspect of our new dynamic. “We can only hold off our parents for so long.”
“I’m aware. The clock is almost up on my end, to be honest. My mom’s about to lose it.”
I set my mug down and take a deep breath. “My parents, too. The holidays are coming up. Plus, you have your travel calendar for work.”
“Thanksgiving. It has to be. It’s already tough on my mom since my dad passed. They loved the holidays. She still probably does, it’s just not the same. But there is Lola, and I think—”
“Of course, it’s fine. A good idea,” I encourage.
Appreciation floods his face. “I’ll let her know. If you hear shrieking from Boston, then you’ll know why.”
I smile at him. “My parents will be…”
He shakes his head. “Just do it. Let’s just take this all in one go.”
“Thanksgiving.” I smile awkwardly, and he nods in agreement.
The beginning of a cry grabs our attention, and we see Lola’s chin quiver as she builds up into tears. “Itchy. Ow.” She begins to scratch.
Hayes and I rush to her, and both wince when we notice various spots in different stages of the virus.
“Let me find the spray stuff,” he mentions and begins to scan the kitchen counters.
“Mommy.” Her hands get grabby in the air.
I scoop Lola out of the highchair and hold her close to me and begin to stroke her hair. “I know. It’s not fun, is it? We’ll put on some fresh jams and read a book, okay?” My words fall on deaf ears as she only cries.
Hayes frantically returns with two bottles in hand. “It’s going to be a long day, isn’t it?”
“Very. Coffee and little sleep. Just the way we wanted to spend our Saturday,” I say and hold Lola closer to my body as I sway.
But something in Hayes’s face tells me that he isn’t complaining at all. This is where he wants to be.
The entire day was a constant team effort to spray, spread cream, and freshen Lola's clothing and sheets.
Luckily, she ate, which meant I could devour my own food that Hayes had delivered.
He quickly learned that nuggets are a magical food group in themselves for Lola, and I needed salad with fries on the side.
But finally, we got her down for what I believe will be a few hours of actual sleep.
We both carefully tiptoe out of her room with the nightlight projecting stars on the ceiling.
Leaving the door open, we get one last look at her tucked in and now asleep.
I nudge Hayes’s shoulder to encourage him to let her be, and I’m not sure who leads the way, but I go into his room next door and leave the door open in case Lola makes noise.
Collapsing onto his bed with a mutual loud sigh, we stare at the ceiling as I feel the toll of the day has taken on my body.
“I think she might be getting a little better,” he comments.
“Hopefully.”
I hear him shift, and in the corner of my eye, I see that he rolled toward me on his side with his head propped by his arm. “You’re amazing, Elodie. For doing all of this.”
“You helped. Remember? I have competition on the cuddles-when-sick front.”
He cracks a soft smile. “I mean, who knows how many times you’ve done this in the last two years, and alone.”
Moving, I roll to my side to meet his gaze. “I would do it all again. But I also have friends and family.”
“Still.”
I quirk my lips to the side. I don’t particularly want to go down the guilt route that we share. For him, probably, that he wasn’t there for it all. And for me, the feeling that I kept her from him, even if it wasn’t my intention.
Changing topics is my solution. “Lookie here.” I pat the mattress. “I’m back in your bed.”
His lips press, aware of what I’m doing, but his growing smirk also shows me that he won’t let go of the obvious, either. “Where you should be.”
“Is that so?” I smile to myself. “Someone is a little confident.”
“Someone knows we’re both sleep-deprived, and as you already experienced this mattress once, then it’s logical you would return.”
“Nothing related to whose bed this is?”
His long finger combs a loose lock of my hair behind my ear, purposefully gentle to cause that sensitive sensation to wave down my body. “It’s you pointing it out, not me. I’m playing the gentleman card.”
I roll my eyes theatrically. “Smooth.”
“I know, right?”
A calm silence finds us as our eye contact remains strong. His thumb feathers circles where my jawline meets my ear.
“Elodie, I’m still trying to figure you out.
In the first few days, as I tried to navigate our situation, once I found out about Lola, I saw the angry, upset side of you.
But I have never seen you sad. I just realized that.
There are many sides of you that I have yet to learn. I hope I never have to see you sad.”
“I can be sad.” I was when I couldn’t tell him about Lola, but I don’t want us to dwell on it right now. “Just don’t be the one to do it,” I warn him.
“I don’t intend to be.” His tone is serious.
“I was only trying to point out that you are mostly an upbeat person, and that’s what I remembered about you.
You struck me that day on the island as someone who would always find a positive.
Remember when you saw the waiter drop an entire pitcher of iced tea on somebody and you said at least they don’t need to worry about the heat anymore, or their ugly shirt. ”
I laugh with a wide grin. “You remember that?”
“It’s the little things about you. Kind of hard to forget.”
Reflecting for a few seconds, I recall all the moments I remember. They’ve been living rent-free in my head. “You hate eating ice cream in cones, some weird phobia.”
“It’s not a phobia, per se. It’s more adults eating ice cream in a cone lacks sophistication unless—”
“They use a spoon,” I finish his sentence.
“I’m sure you can agree if you think about it.” I stare at him blankly, and my arm gravitates to rest over his. “I also tried hard to forget the way you would talk, then suddenly be asleep. Your mouth twitched when your eyes closed.”
“You noticed? We only had a few short naps all night.”
“I did. It will forever be crazy that we were so close yet so far. I don’t even think we made it the full six degrees of separation, more like what, two?”
My eyes grow. “Some would say it’s fate. I just think it’s a dark joke on us.”
“Agreed.”
“We are accepting it, though, right? I’m trying not to dwell, but it hurts,” I admit.
He kisses my forehead gently. “I know. That’s why I think I might be a little grumpy at the office. It reminds me.”
I snort a laugh. “You, grumpy? Hmm, can’t say that I’ve heard a rumor that you are scary, no-nonsense, wears nice suits, but stay out of his way if I’m involved.
Like that, the rumor would just be crazy.
It’s not like I would hear it by chance from a group congregating next to the coffee machine, eating somebody’s birthday chocolate chip cookies. ”
His face contorts. “I need to work on it, don’t I?” I see a shade of pride in how people perceive him.
I shrug. “Maybe.”
He sighs. “Elodie, Elodie, Elodie… what am I going to do with you?”
“I’m not sure. But I see the special parent-fatigue spell taking over you.” We’re both tired.
He tries to cover his yawn. “If you won’t let me go down on you right now, then we should get some sleep.” He’s only half joking.
I chuckle until it simmers down, and I realize that I never answered him yesterday, and I can easily answer, too.
“Hayes.”
“Yeah.”
“I’ll go on that date with you.” I smile.
“Smart choice. Now come here.” He pulls me close, my cheek resting against his chest, and we both close our eyes to sleep in one another’s arms.