11. Sean
ELEVEN
SEAN
Lizzie answered on the third ring. “Sean? Is everything okay?” She was breathless, her voice strained.
I frowned. “Everything’s fine. Bad time?”
Her voice was rough around the edges when she replied, “No, you’re fine. I just got into bed.”
I hummed, liking the thought of Lizzie in bed. I liked the intimate sound of her voice right now. I wondered how she’d sound after being thoroughly fucked, if her voice would get drowsy and sated, or raspy, or thin. I wanted to know exactly how my name would sound at the peak of her orgasm, and how?—
I squeezed my eyes shut and pushed the thoughts aside. She wasn’t for me. I had a date with another woman lined up. Thinking carnal thoughts about my best friend’s little sister had to be some kind of punishable offense.
“What’s up?” she asked after a breath, sounding more like herself.
I marshaled my thoughts into order and slapped the horny part of my brain back with a stick. “I just wanted to say thanks for tonight. Aaron invited me out to the bar, and he said he had a babysitter lined up. I didn’t know it was you.”
“He has a babysitter built in, more like,” Lizzie answered dryly. “I’m always only one call away.”
“You could’ve said no.”
Lizzie made a noncommittal noise. “Well, it was no problem. Mikey and Zach seem to be getting along, and I got to have a night off cooking.”
Somehow, babysitting five kids didn’t seem like a night off to me, but I didn’t mention it out loud. Instead, I took a deep breath and broached the second reason I’d called. “I was also calling because…”
She shifted, and I imagined rucked sheets and plush pillows. I wondered what she wore to sleep. Something silky and soft and pink, that I’d enjoy peeling off to reveal one inch of her skin at a time?—
I cleared my throat. “I have a favor to ask. But you can say no. I don’t want you to feel like you have to agree.”
“Okay.” Suspicion laced the word. “What is it?”
I took a deep breath and sat up on the couch, glancing down the hall to peek at the bottom of the stairs. Mikey was in bed, and I hadn’t heard any creaks or footsteps that would tell me he’d snuck out of his room. “Mikey asked me if we could get a Christmas tree this year,” I finally said.
“Right,” Lizzie said. “Do you… Is that not something you normally do?”
“His mom does Christmas,” I explained.
“Every year?” Shock vibrated in Lizzie’s voice.
I cleared my throat. “Just the way the custody agreement shook out. But after seeing how happy it made him to decorate your tree, I was thinking that maybe it would be good to have our own holiday. You know, the two of us. Even if it isn’t on the actual day.”
“Oh, Sean,” Lizzie said, and I could just picture her smile. “Of course. You need help? What do you need me to do?”
“I, well…” I laughed self-consciously and scrubbed the short hair on my scalp. “I’ll be honest, I don’t know the first thing about shopping for a Christmas tree. If you could help me out with a list, or tell me where I should get one…”
“Real or fake?”
“Excuse me?”
“The tree. Do you want a real one or a fake one?”
“Oh. Um. Real?”
“Great! There’s a man who sells them just outside of town in a big grocery store parking lot. Zach and Hazel are actually hanging out with my parents tomorrow evening, so I could drive out there with you—oh! But you probably want to do this just you and Mikey, right? I can just send you the location. And you probably need ornaments. You think Mikey will want to choose them?”
“I was kind of thinking it could be a surprise. Have the tree and the ornaments at our place, and then Mikey can decorate it.”
“Perfect. I can call my parents and ask if they mind watching him tomorrow night, and then we can dart over, get the tree, choose some ornaments, and have everything ready for him when he comes home.”
My heart squeezed. She made it sound so easy. The hot coal burning in my chest told me that this would be uncomfortable, with a tide of memories already trying to flood my brain, but it would be worth it to see my son smile. “Your parents wouldn’t mind? I’ve been relying on you guys so much since I got back.”
“That’s what family’s for,” Lizzie answered brightly. “Let me call my mom and I’ll text you. This is going to be so much fun!”
I couldn’t have stopped the smile from spreading on my face if I tried. “Thanks, Lizzie.”
“Talk to you soon!”
We hung up, and I slumped down on the sofa, exhausted. It was the right thing to do, to put myself second in order to make my kid happy. But it still made my body feel stretched with tension. Leaning into the Christmas spirit wasn’t something I’d done in a long, long time.
Still, when Lizzie sent a text a few minutes later saying her parents would be happy to watch Mikey, I let out a long breath.
I was getting a Christmas tree for the first time since my divorce. And I was doing it with Lizzie Butler by my side.
I would not mess this up. There was more at stake than just my lust for a woman it’d taken me forty-odd years to notice. There was her family’s support, my place in this community, and my son’s happiness.
Still, a part of me mourned what couldn’t be. Those sunlit smiles, soft curves, and dark eyes. The lightness in my chest whenever she met my gaze. The way my heart seemed to have started beating again for the first time since my marriage fell apart.
But if there was one thing I had to remember, it was that Lizzie wasn’t for me.