Murph #2
Win’s amused voice drifts toward me from the staircase. “Sorry to interrupt your birds and bees talk.”
I glare at him. It sounds an awful lot like he’s been there for a while, silently laughing at me as I struggle to dig myself out of this conversation and end up digging deeper.
“Do you want to come watch cartoons with me until your mom wakes up?” he asks Ben.
Ben studies me curiously. I don’t blame him. My behavior is off-the-charts bizarre, and even he’s picked up on it. He shakes his head at Win and moves toward Rose’s door. “I’m gonna stay with Mommy.”
“Okay.” I step aside and pull open the door for him, glad I thought to toss Rose’s bath towel into the hamper in the room’s corner.
Rose is still sleeping. I pulled the sheets up to her neck before kissing her forehead and made myself walk away from her. She looks fucking beautiful. So damn sweet and sexy that it’s killing me not to crawl back into that bed and never leave it again.
But getting out when I did was for a good reason.
That reason is the five-year-old peering curiously up at me.
If Ben had found us in bed together, I’m not sure what I would have said.
Rose probably would have thought of something a little less idiotic than what came out of my mouth.
But I don’t want Ben to be confused or think I’m taking the place of his dad.
Neither does Rose. So for now, sex is on the down-low around Ben.
“Come down if you want to play, and we’ll dig out the Lego,” I tell him. “Your mom might still need more rest.”
I ignore Win’s raised eyebrow, praying Ben doesn’t ask me any more questions. Ben might be too young to understand why Rose’s sheets are rumpled and her hair is disheveled. Win sure as hell isn’t.
“Okay, Murph.” Ben rushes over to Rose’s bed.
I make sure he doesn’t jump on her before I close the door and walk toward Win, who's standing near the staircase with his hands in his pockets. It’s early, but he’s dressed in the jeans and t-shirt he usually wears to work, which isn’t unusual.
We’re all early-to-bed, early-to-rise types, except when we’re watching a movie with Rose. Then, none of us wants the night to end, and it usually does when Rose falls asleep with her head on one of our shoulders.
“How long were you there?” I ask him.
He flashes me a grin. “Long enough to wonder how you were going to explain adult sleepovers to Ben. I was hoping you’d tell me where babies came from.”
Man is forty years old, and he says it with a straight face and the wide-eyed innocence of a child.
“Fuck off.” I mock-glare at him. “And you didn’t think to save me?”
He chuckles. “And ruin my fun? You realize you could have told him that Rose stayed up late, right?”
“Shut up,” I mutter, mentally kicking myself for not doing the obvious.
Laughing, he claps me on the shoulder. “We need to talk about the house.”
I cock my head. “What about it?”
“Joel said he had an offer.”
His news is a bucket of cold water flung in my face. Here I am, thinking about the future with Rose, and we’re living in a house that will be foreclosed if we don’t sell it and find somewhere cheaper we can actually afford. “A good offer?”
Even knowing we need the best offer we can get, I hope the answer is no. We’ve all had so many happy memories in this house, and every day we make more.
“Name our price,” Joel answers from the kitchen, where he’s sitting on a counter with a mug of coffee. “The best kind of offer we could have had.”
I walk over to the coffee machine and pour myself a cup.
“I haven’t finished all the rooms.” After a quick detour to the refrigerator for a splash of cream, I sit at the dining table with Win.
Since he’ll likely get a coffee from the diner when he starts work and he’s never needed caffeine to perk himself up in the mornings, he doesn’t pour himself one.
My pace of renovating this house is positively glacial at this point. We have all been more concerned with spending time with Rose, Ben, and each other than decorating. The few occasions I pick up tools are to work on the surprise for Rose with Ben.
The spare bedroom is done, at least. I don’t even want to imagine what the attic, our longstanding dumping ground, looks like, given that I haven’t been up there in a couple of months and I haven’t started on the dining room.
If I’d been this slow at work, I’d have lost my job months ago. There’s no excuse for not having finished the work already. Except there is. A big one. This is home, the best I’ve ever had, and I don’t want to let it go.
“The guy swung by the firehouse a couple of days ago. He's been waiting for a house like this to come on the market for a while, and when he heard we were looking to sell, he jumped at it.” Joel takes a sip from his mug.
I frown. “Why didn’t you mention it before?”
He makes a face. “I was hoping he wasn’t serious. But he swung by again when I didn’t get back to him to remind me that his offer still stands.”
“Oh?” I take a sip of coffee. It’s good. Win must have made it. Joel’s version could strip paint off the walls; it’s that strong.
Joel hesitates. “I’ve started having doubts about selling. Uh… if I’m being honest, I’ve had those doubts for a while now. A long, long while.”
I study him over the rim of my mug, hiding feelings which mirror his. “This house is too expensive. We can’t afford it.”
“I know that,” Joel says.
“But?” Win asks.
“It feels like home.” Joel leans his head against a cupboard as he breathes four words none of us have said out loud.
None of us has a response to that. But no one is shaking their heads in denial. No one is rushing to fill the silence.
As usual, I try to be practical about things. “This house comes with a mortgage none of us can afford past the end of this year. The offer is a good one. The smart thing to do would be to take it.”
Win clears his throat. “I could pick up more hours at the diner.”
I snort. “You could own the diner, and it still wouldn’t pay enough.”
“I could get a part-time job somewhere,” Joel suggests.
“One that fits in with your sometimes odd hours at the firehouse would be impossible to find. We have to sell to that guy or risk foreclosing on the house and having it taken away.” I say.
Something catches my eye, drawing my attention to the empty kitchen doorway. I set my mug down and go to investigate, but there's no sign of anyone in the entryway.
“What is it?” Win asks.
Shrugging off the sense that someone was at the doorway listening, I return to the dining table. “Nothing.”
I was just imagining things.
“Shouldn’t you be getting ready to go to work?” Joel asks me.
“Yeah.” I take a sip from my mug, set it down on the table, and stare at it. Out of the corner of my eye, I catch Joel and Win sharing a glance.
“So…” Joel drawls.
I draw in a deep breath, release it in a soft exhale, and sit back in my chair. The wood creaks beneath me as I cross my arms and lift my face toward the ceiling. “I slept with Rose last night.”
Win snorts. “Thought so, given your clothes from yesterday and your unzipped fly.”
“Shit. Do you think Ben saw?” I leap to my feet, nearly knocking over my mug as I frantically peer between my legs.
My zipper is up. Just like I remember doing them before I left Rose’s room. But paranoia and doubt are a hell of a thing. I glare at Win, who doesn’t look the least bit contrite.
“Sorry. It was too tempting.” A wide smile stretches across his face. “Why are you being so weird about telling us something we all knew would happen sooner rather than later?”
I settle into my seat, fiddling with the handle of my mug. “I, uh, I bit her. Multiple times actually, and well, the last one was kind of a big deal.”
Joel and Win exchange knowing glances. Once again, I get the sense both are secretly laughing at me.
“So, you’re saying she might need a rabies shot?” Joel says, straight-faced.
My dark glare is met with a throaty chuckle.
He holds both hands towards me in a placating gesture. “Sorry, Win was right. It was too tempting. I’m guessing—and Win probably agrees—that you’re trying to tell us you gave her a claiming bite.”
I nod, my gaze returning to the mug. “She asked me to. I wasn’t expecting it, but I wanted you to know that I love her. She’s my scent match, but she’s as much yours as she is mine. The bite doesn’t change things between any of us, so stop thinking I’ll kill you if you kiss her or sleep with her.”
Neither of them speaks for three seconds. It takes that long to look at them after opening up in ways I rarely do.
Both are grinning at me like fucking idiots.
“Stop that,” I glare. “You know how I feel about feelings and…” I gesture vaguely.
“Sharing them?” Win offers helpfully, still with a stupid ass grin on his face.
I don’t smack it off him the way I would anyone else because this man isn’t just a friend; he’s family.
Rolling my eyes, I drain my coffee and get to my feet. “I’m gonna get ready for work.”
I don’t make it two steps to the doorway before Win and Joel are yanking me back. We don’t do group hugs, but I'm starting to wonder why we didn’t do them before now.
“We love you too, man,” Joel says.
I give both of them a squeeze, then it really is time to get ready for work. I head toward the kitchen doorway, then stop and turn to face Joel. “Hold off on speaking to that guy about accepting his offer.”
Joel perks up. “You have an idea?”
I shrug. “Not much of one. We could go to the bank, see what they say about extending the term on the mortgage, or I could talk to my parents about a loan? It’s probably a long shot, but it beats letting this place go.
” I look around the farmhouse kitchen we renovated and voice the words in my heart, not just in my head. “Letting our home go.”
Joel and Win nod.
They know the odds of keeping this place are slim, but they’ve always been a lot more hopeful than I am. But maybe things will work out. More of their positivity must have rubbed off on me than I realized.