Chapter Eleven Remi
Chapter Eleven
Remi
“Mom, you’re freaking out.”
“No, I’m not.”
Total bullshit answer. Sometimes it wasn’t just okay to lie to your kids—it was a matter of public health and safety. Gavin had gotten off the bus and found me tearing through the house, shoving piles of laundry into closets. My face was flushed, sweat beading at my hairline.
Would it have killed the man to give me a clear arrival time?
It’s not like it was hard.
Thirty minutes since we’d both left the shelter and only a vague “I’ll be there in less than an hour.” It could be fifteen minutes, could be two. Could be another thirty.
I’d lose my mind if I had to prepare for Archer Evans to walk through my front door for another thirty minutes.
So what if my house wasn’t cute and perfectly decorated or brand new? The trim I’d painted white a couple years ago was chipped and dusty because who the hell had time to scrub baseboards on a regular basis?
There were marks on the wall next to the kitchen table where Gavin tapped his pencil when he was doing his homework. Last week, I’d told him he needed to wash them off, but as soon as we had one conversation about it, it was forgotten.
The couch—a hand-me-down leather sectional from the neighbors across the street—was new to us but still worn on the arms, and the recliner end that faced the TV had a few small cracks from sitting in the sun underneath their front window for ten years.
My hands were trembling as I tried to wrench my hair into submission. How stupid this was. He was just a man. It didn’t matter that he made more money than I could ever comprehend in my entire lifetime or had the body of a god—he was still just a man.
I blew out a short breath. A man who’d made mistakes. He had flaws. And if he walked into our house and said anything about the size or the decor, I’d have no choice but to punch him in the balls.
I rolled my hand into a fist and tried to imagine it. No, no punching. The angle was wrong.
Leaning in the corner next to the couch was Gavin’s bat.
That would work.
I groaned, wiping a hand over my mouth.
God, did I have time to scrub the baseboards before he got there?
“You’ve got those crazy eyes,” Gavin said, gesturing at my face with a dubious expression. “Who is this new babysitter again?”
My legs went a little rubbery, and I managed to sink onto the corner of the couch. “About that . . .”
The slow, intentional words caught his attention. “Mom?”
“Why don’t you take a seat, bud.”
“Am I in trouble?”
“No. I promise.” His little face was still pinched with worry, and I forced a smile. “So, I’m not exactly sure who your babysitter is, but I know who’s bringing her over.”
His eyes widened. “You’re leaving me with a stranger? What if they’re mean? Or . . . even worse, irresponsible!”
My smile spread. “Is that worse than being mean?”
“You tell me—you’re the one leaving your kid with someone you don’t know.”
I ruffled his hair. “You’re right, irresponsible would be bad. But that’s not what this is about.”
“Okay. Who’s dropping her off?”
When had I swallowed a cup of sand? I tried to clear my throat, but my voice came out all raspy. “Remember when you saw a picture of the shelter in that article about Archer Evans’s car accident?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, he’s been volunteering at the shelter because the judge told him he has to do that in order to make amends for what happened.”
Gavin’s mouth fell open. “You met him?”
I nodded.
Color crept up his freckled cheeks, his eyes flickering while he waffled between excitement and awe and confusion. “What’s . . . what’s he like?”
There it was. The reason why I hadn’t told him.
Shining in his eyes was hope.
At the end of the day, he still wanted to know that this person he’d idolized was good and nice and kind and cool. I wasn’t the only one who wanted to be wrong about Archer.
Which meant I had to tread carefully. It took constant vigilance not to let your kids carry your own baggage, and I did not need to give Gavin mine when it came to his idol.
“We haven’t talked a lot since he started, but Archer has done everything I’ve asked him to, and I’ve given him some pretty crappy jobs. He’s never complained.”
Gavin, as usual, saw absolutely everything I didn’t want him to see. “You don’t like him, do you?”
“I don’t know him very well.” Yanking at the hair tie holding my hair back allowed me to drop my gaze, and while I wrestled it into something a little bit neater, a little less crazy lady who’s rage-cleaning her house, I tried to think of how I’d want to prepare him to meet someone who’d always been larger than life.
“But you’ll be able to form your own opinion of him. ”
Gavin’s eyebrows shot up. “He’s coming here? To our house?”
I nodded slowly, dropping my hands back in my lap. “He knows someone who loves babysitting. She’s seventeen, and he told me she’s first-aid certified and took CPR classes, all the really important stuff.”
“Great, so if I choke, she’ll know what to do.”
I laughed. “Yes. Let’s try to avoid that, though.”
He blinked rapidly, eyes locked on the floor. “He’s really going to be here?”
“Yeah, buddy. Any minute.” I glanced at the clock on the family room wall. “I need to get back to the shelter, so we won’t be able to hang out long. And Archer may not even come out of the car, so it’s possible he’ll just wave and be on his way.”
Gavin’s face fell. “Yeah, maybe he doesn’t like talking to little kids.”
Oh, my. Parenting was not for the faint of heart, that was for sure.
The sound of a truck came from the driveway, and I stood up quickly. Gavin did too. His breath came in short, excited pants when the driver’s-side door opened and Archer got out.
“Holy shit,” he whispered.
“Gavin Michael.”
“You can ground me. It’s totally worth it.”
His eyes hadn’t left the man walking around the front of the truck.
Even from an adult’s perspective—a single-mom-variety adult—Archer was impressive enough.
More than impressive, unfortunately. He was always wearing a solid-color T-shirt, and today’s option, white and simple, clung to his chest, highlighting the shift of his carved muscles in a way that made my mouth go dry.
Everything about him was strong and solid and big.
Trying to imagine what he looked like to a ten-year-old boy who wanted nothing more than to be a professional athlete someday . . .
I decided to let the swearing slide.
“I won’t ground you,” I told him. “But why don’t you wait here a second while I go meet your new babysitter.”
The teenager who hopped out of the truck had lighter hair than Archer, more of a true blonde. It was shiny and straight, hanging past her shoulders, and she wore pink-hued sunglasses and denim cutoffs over long, tanned legs.
She smiled at Archer, and the breath hitched in my throat when he smiled back.
Damn him. Damn him all the way back to the place he came from.
Who did he think he was? Showing up here and smiling.
I’d swapped the cleavage-happy tank top for something with a bit more coverage, opting for a worn Buffalo Storm T-shirt that Pops got me for my birthday a few years ago. Archer’s eyes locked on the logo as soon as I walked out the front door, and I mentally cursed my choice.
“Hey.”
“Boss.”
I rolled my eyes.
The punch of his blue eyes out in the direct sunlight was awful. The girl next to him had the exact same eyes, and they were currently bouncing between Archer and me, a slow smile covering her pretty face.
“Everything makes sense now.”
“Analise,” he growled.
She beamed in my direction, all straight white teeth and deep dimples. “I’m his annoying little sister, and he’ll regret bringing me in about five minutes if he doesn’t already.”
Archer said nothing, but his jaw was tight with tension as he crossed his arms over his chest, his biceps testing the seams of his very nice white T-shirt.
I couldn’t help but smile. “Nice to meet you, Analise. I’m Remi. I can’t thank you enough for being willing to watch Gavin.”
“Remi,” she said thoughtfully, cutting a sly gaze to her brother. “Someone wouldn’t give me any details in the car, and I’m starting to realize why.”
His chest expanded on a deep breath, his eyes briefly closing as he muttered her name again.
Analise ignored him. “He’s always pretty quiet, right?
But this was extra quiet. Extra grumpy. Which is saying something for him, because he’s not usually grumpy with me.
And no matter what I asked him—Who am I babysitting?
Why is this so secretive? When have you ever volunteered me for jobs before?
—he kept his mouth totally shut. Not a single word about a hot redhead. ”
“Analise,” he barked.
Behind my sternum, my heart thrashed wildly. “Oh,” I said in a weak voice.
“Don’t sweat it. I’m sure your general attractiveness has nothing to do with the fact that he won’t tell me anything about his community service hours other than you hate him.”
Archer scrubbed a hand over his face as I breathed out a shocked laugh.
She pointed at him. “Do you think I can get him to say anything besides my name? It could be a fun challenge.”
“That is enough,” he said tightly. “I told you to be on your best behavior.”
“That’s what I’m doing.” She patted his shoulder but kept her smile aimed at me.
“Now, I’d love to meet your kiddo. I haven’t had much time to babysit lately because my dad thinks if he crams all my free time in with tutors, I’ll magically love school and get A’s and desperately want to spend the next four to six years in college. ” She rolled her eyes.
I smiled. “I didn’t love school either. I got a job straight out of high school because I was sick of doing homework and going to class.”
“That’s what I want to do,” she said, her eyes wide and pretty.
“Granted, I also had a baby on the way at my high school graduation.” I shrugged. “College didn’t seem more important than my ability to pay the bills.”