Tie Trouble, Heart Trouble
“Damned tie.”
For the third time, I pulled out the knot.
Adjusting the length, I mumbled about the rabbit running around the tree and jumping into the hole.
I cinched it around my neck before taking a cautious look at the mirror in the hallway.
I wanted to throw something. The tip only reached my belly button.
Even as I hunched over, trying to make it longer, I readied a fourth attempt.
I only had one button-down shirt, a black-and-white checker pattern. The crimson tie wouldn’t have been my first choice, but it was all I could find in Pops’s closet. I pulled out the knot, trying one more time to get it right.
The tie slid off the back. “Charles. You’re not a tie man.
” She slid it around her neck. “Neither was your father.” Without effort, she weaved the tail around the tie and a moment later, had a perfect knot.
“You look fine. Besides, if somebody is smitten with my son, it’s not because of how he dresses. ”
“That’s not the compliment you think.”
In the mirror, I saw her flash a smile. “I know.”
Rapid knocking came from the front door.
I didn’t need to look to know Lacie and her perpetual sugar high had arrived.
As I pulled it open, my eyes widened to see Nick standing there, knuckles poised for a second round.
I could handle Lacie… in doses. If the lack of a curse meant he had transformed into—
“She made me do it,” he said.
Over his shoulder, Lacie stood on her tiptoes, waving. She didn’t wait for an invitation. With a brown paper bag, she barged in, pushing past me to Mum. “I brought bread. I didn’t know what you were making, so I have options.”
“Lasagna,” she said.
“Oh yeah, we’re golden. It’ll pair perfectly with Moxie.” I cringed at the thought. “Ellie, you know the doctor told you to stay off your feet. Put me to work while the menfolk take up space.”
I found it disturbing how much Lacie had absorbed during her short stay.
At this rate, she’d be taking Mum to her next appointment.
They reached the kitchen, and Lacie all but squealed.
I chuckled when she belted out, “I want the sexy man apron!” Nick and I stood awkwardly in the hallway as if we were at a middle school dance and a slow song came on.
“How are you doing since the ritual cleansing?” Every word sounded wrong. How many people in town could utter that phrase? “That’s getting marked on my calendar.”
It was weird enough that we were just beginning this friendship. It didn’t help that I had seen him naked twice now. Did shagging make it better or worse? It left my cheeks blushing at least. If that weren’t awkward enough, we had to figure out how to navigate this, standing in my mother’s foyer.
“Forget the cleansing.” He rubbed his cheek. “Mabel knocked it out of me.”
“You’ll have to find a way to thank her.”
“About that…”
He gestured toward the living room. I gestured for him to come in.
The fact Mum hadn’t told them to take off their shoes gave away how excited she was to have company.
Nick took a seat at the end of the couch, and I plopped down on the center cushion, sitting on my leg as I faced him.
We were close enough that we could touch, but far enough away that nobody would get the wrong idea.
Let them wonder.
“Don’t tell her,” he whispered, pointing toward the kitchen. “But I don’t think her ritual worked.”
“Oh?” I had hoped whatever convincing Nick needed had set in last night. I’m not sure how much he bought into the idea of magic and ceremonies. Even if he didn’t believe, I wanted him to walk away with a new sense of confidence.
“The slap might have helped.” He touched his cheek again. “But I don’t think… I don’t know how to say this without sounding desperate.”
“I think we’re past that.” I let a finger graze the hair along his thigh. “Way past.”
“What if I was wrong about it?”
“About the curse? I have to admit, hearing everything you’ve dealt with made me a believer.”
“If he hadn’t broken up with me here…” Nick’s words trailed off. This differed from before. He didn’t shrink into himself, withdrawing from conversation. I wanted to grip his leg and shake the words from him.
“Is it a curse if it brought me here?” He bit his lower lip while his fingers fidgeted in the palm of his hand. That hit like a fist to the sternum. After everything he’d dealt with… was he really saying it was worth it if it meant landing here? Landing with me?
“I- I-”
“It’s cheesy, I know.”
My hand gripped his thigh. “Very cheesy.” It might have been sappy as all hell, but it got me anyway. “I won’t hold it against you,” I lied. Oh, I’d save that line for years. I’d use it to tease at every opportunity.
“You’re an ass.” The grin on his face said otherwise. “But it’s true. Maybe I had been thinking about it all wrong?” He held up his hands. “Not that I’m putting the pressure on you.”
I’d wear it like a badge of honor. “Sorry it took all that to get you here. But I’m glad you are here.”
He didn’t reply. Instead, his pointer finger traced the tattoo along my hand.
We’d had a rough start, but the first night on the green?
Finding somebody who sat in comfortable silence?
That stuck with me. Being dense, I didn’t realize it then, but I had already taken a shine to him.
I’d never admit it aloud, but I wanted him back out there with me.
It had taken both of us the long route, but here we sat on my mother’s couch, once again comfortable in the—
“I hope you boys are hungry.”
We jolted upright, as if we had been caught kissing with the bedroom door half-open. He snickered as guilt flashed across my face. Having never had a boy over to the house before, I still didn’t know the protocol. Good to know some things didn’t change with age.
Mum appeared in the doorway, wiping her hands along the ripped abs of the man on her apron.
Having a full house made her happy. She loved taking care of people.
When I first arrived, it had been begrudgingly, and now, I begrudged a little less.
We’d make the most of our time together, memories that we’d laugh about when I called, and there would be phone calls. Pops would be happy to know—
“Oh, shit.”
I had almost forgotten the flowers. Holding up a finger, I dashed out to the garage.
I reached into the passenger side of the car, grabbing the bouquet before returning to the living room.
Mum’s eyes went wide as I thrust the bouquet out.
She took them by the stems, bringing them to her nose with a deep inhale.
When she came up, a smile stretched across her face. Mum cupped my cheek, and for a moment, it was as if there were three of us in the room. I didn’t need to hear her say it. I could feel Pops’s presence in the room. There’d be no more—
“Charles,” she whispered.
She glanced at the rose in the center and then toward where Nick sat on the couch. “Just like your father used to,” she said. I froze at the comment. Had Marigold rolled the same bouquet decades before for my father? I’d have to process that later, right after I made my grand gesture.
Pulling the rose free, I offered it to Nick. “I flowered you.” What? “I got you flowers.” I should take off my shoe and see how much of my foot I could wedge in my mouth. “For you.” I held it out in the same awkward manner I had for my mother.
“Just like his father,” she said, heading to the kitchen.
Nick snickered as he took the flower. “That was more painful than dumping Moxie down your pants.”
“Says you!”
He sniffed the flower before giving me a smile, one that traveled from his eyes to his shoulders.
He got up from the couch, stepping close enough that our bellies rubbed together.
This was the same man who had stripped beside the river and jumped in without hesitation.
Getting to know him did something to me.
Not fear. Something worse. Better. I’d need time to process.
“You’re cute when you’re nervous.”
“Hush,” I said.
The kiss wasn’t desperate. It also didn’t come with fireworks that made my cock jump. The perfectly timed kiss was comfortable, and that meant more than if it were fueled by need. I wrapped an arm around his shoulders, pulling him tight. I kissed his forehead and squeezed him tight.
Comfortable… but also a little electric.
“Stop playing kissy face and come get dinner!” Lacie yelled.
But… I didn’t want to. It was only when Nick turned me around and gave me a smack on the ass that I headed toward the dining room. His finger hooked through a belt loop, tugging as he followed. We’d have to see how easily comfortable kisses turned into fireworks… after dinner.
“It smells delicious,” Nick said.
I couldn’t remember the last time we had sat around the dining room table.
Most of the time, we sat on the couch with our TV trays as we watched game shows.
I’m sure it had been a formal event. Thanksgiving would always start at the table, and by our second plate, we’d be on the couch.
I didn’t have to ask; Mum considered Lacie and Nick’s attendance a formal event.
“It better,” Lacie said. “Ellie, I’m going to need the recipe.”
Lacie had put Mum in a chair, insisting she rest her foot.
Despite the protests, Lacie had won the argument.
Mum must be dying inside as somebody else did the serving.
No matter how many times I told her to take it easy, she refused to listen.
Lacie comes in, points at a chair, and Mum follows orders.
Maybe I needed to adopt her stern finger-pointing?
“It’s from a website,” she admitted. “Charlie’s father was the cook in the family. But let me tell you, I know how to download recipes with the best of them.”
I went to take a seat next to Mum when Lacie came in with a casserole dish. With a firm hip check, she pushed me away. “My seat, mister. Stop hogging this national treasure.”