Chapter Five
Reid
S omething happened.
I can’t put my finger on it, but I sense it when they come home.
“I missed you,” Amara says, flinging her arms around my neck, after she sets down her massive cleaning bag. “Did you miss me?”
Emma’s green eyes, shining with hurt, dart briefly to mine as she passes by us. I can’t help but track her as she heads for the stairs.
“She’s in a mood,” Amara explains as she plants a kiss on my lips. “We discussed some difficult subjects like her job and college.”
I’m stiff, still worrying about Emma, when Amara slides her hand down to my crotch. She fondles my dick, but it’s not interested in playing. It’s fucking worried. I grip her wrist and pull it away from my cock .
“Are you in a mood too?” she asks, bottom lip puckering out. “I’m feeling unloved this evening.”
It takes a lot for me not to roll my eyes at her. I hate that I feel this way toward her, but I can’t stop it.
“We need to talk,” I clip out. “Sit with me?”
Her eyebrows furl together. “Why do I feel like I’m in trouble?”
“You’re not in trouble,” I assure her.
I might be.
If she knew how I’ve been looking at her daughter lately, I definitely would be.
She sits down beside me on the couch, body tense. “You’re scaring me, babe.”
I’m scaring myself.
“Listen,” I say, as I absently rub at Brayden’s name tattoo on my hand. “I think we should—”
“Get married?” She grins at me. “Yes. The answer is yes.”
I gape at her in confusion. The thought of marrying this woman has dread pooling at the pit of my stomach. It feels like a prison sentence. We’re not happy. I’m not sure we ever were. I’ve been with her out of duty, and it has to end. It’s not fair to any of us.
“Uh, no,” I mutter, gently patting her knee. “I was actually thinking we need some space.”
Ah, fuck.
Cue the waterworks.
Tears well in Amara’s eyes and she blinks rapidly. “ Wait, what? You’re not proposing to me? You’re kicking us out?”
Us.
“No,” I growl out fiercely, shaking my head in vehemence.
The thought of Emma homeless is too much to bear.
“The two of you can stay here,” I assure her. “I’ll sleep on the couch. I just think you and I aren’t connecting like we should be, but I care about Emma’s wellbeing. She has a home here.”
Amara swipes at her tears and shoots me a pitiful look. “Is it the lack of sex? I’m just so tired after working all day. Want a blowjob? I can give that to you, Reid. Please don’t do this to us.”
Again, with the us.
“I don’t need that stuff, Amara.” I sigh heavily and scrub my palm over my face. “I guess I’m wanting more of a partner out of life. What we have feels lopsided.”
“Please don’t give up,” Amara begs, tears steadily streaming down her rosy cheeks. “I can do better. In fact, I was thinking about maybe not working so hard so we can spend more time together.”
The desperation in her voice has me feeling guilty as fuck.
Do I keep trying to make this thing work with Amara or am I deluding myself?
“We’ll see,” I say softly. “For now, I think sleeping separately won’t be a bad thing. ”
She swipes another tear away. “Okay, but if you change your mind, the bedroom door is always open.”
Amara leaves to retreat upstairs. My mind is still fixated on Emma’s face earlier. I want to ask her about what she and her mom discussed, but it’s probably none of my business.
My phone buzzes with a text.
Cole: I can’t run tomorrow. You guys have fun without me. I’ll catch you on the next one.
You guys have fun without me.
Maybe tomorrow I can find out what upset Emma.
“Where’s Cole?”
I jolt at the sound of Emma’s voice, turning around to face her. She’s in another sexy workout ensemble that’s too damn tempting. But she’s sad and that’s what grabs my full attention.
“Who knows,” I say, stepping closer to her. “What’s up? You’re unhappy.”
“I’m fine.” A slight flinch is her only tell that I’m right and that she’s lying. She takes off in a sprint down the road, avoiding any further probing on the topic.
Following after her is torturous to my cock, so I dig in and tear off after her until we’re jogging side by side.
Neither of us speak. The only sounds are the rhythmic pounding of our sneakers and heavy breathing.
As much as I want to discuss what’s going on with her, I allow her the space to just sit in her feelings.
My own mind is a mess, so I understand the need to analyze everything and work things over in your head.
After our first mile, she begins to relax, muttering about things we pass by on our run. She even stops to pet a dog an elderly lady is walking. Before I know it, she’s taken us to the yellow building again.
What is it about this place that draws her to it?
She walks along the overgrown path and then up the rickety steps to peek in a window. I follow after her but try the handle of the door. It’s unlocked and opens.
“Want to check it out inside?”
She beams at me. “Hell, yeah I do.”
I step through the threshold and scan the big, open space. It’s a typical abandoned building. Someone, at some point, slept here. A pile of filthy blankets and trash litter one corner. From what I can tell, it has a couple of rooms in the back, including a bathroom.
“What did this building use to be?” she asks, ponytail swishing when she turns to look at me. “Maybe a dentist office or something?”
“Honestly, it’s been abandoned for as long as I can remember.” I lift an edge of the peeling, hideous 70s-era wallpaper. “Long enough ago that this was still in style.”
She laughs. “Nothing a little paint can’t fix.”
“It’s going to take a lot more than paint to make this place presentable. ”
“I could do it.”
I study her profile as she admires the place. She chews on her bottom lip as she inspects everything. Her mind is working and planning.
“I have no doubt,” I say in agreement. “You got a business idea?”
Her cheeks redden and she shrugs. “Doesn’t matter.”
“It matters to me.”
“I don’t know…” She trails off and looks down at her shoes. “Maybe it’s stupid.”
I take a step closer. I’m near enough I can smell the salty scent of her sweat mixed with the fruitiness of her shampoo. Does it make me a creep that I have the urge to run my nose along her neck and see what she smells like there?
Yes, asshole.
Total creep.
“Does this have anything to do with what you and your mom were discussing last night?”
She stiffens and snaps her head up to meet mine. “I figured she told you all about it.”
“She mentioned you guys spoke about your job and college. Didn’t really elaborate.”
“What did she elaborate on?” Emma asks, swallowing hard.
Shame courses through me. “To be honest, Em, it wasn’t a good conversation between us either.”
Surprise has her eyes widening and mouth parting. “Not good? How come?”
“I told her we needed space.”
“You guys broke up?” She swallows hard, crossing her arms over her chest. “She said…”
“She wanted to get married,” I finish for her. “Yeah. That’s not happening.”
“Good,” she blurts out. “I mean, um, sorry. I bet she didn’t handle that well at all.”
“There were tears,” I admit, wincing at the memory. “But I held firm.”
Emma’s relief quickly morphs into fear. “Oh. Wait. So, like, are we moving out now?”
Without thinking, I grab onto Emma’s wrist, giving it a tight squeeze. “No. I’ll sleep on the couch. You guys can stay. I don’t want you uprooted on your last year of school.”
“So, you’re doing all this because you don’t want me to change school districts?”
“Yes. Uh, no. Fuck, Em, I don’t know. All I know is it doesn’t feel right putting you out. My home is your home.”
She gives me a soft smile that does wicked things to my heart. It’s so fucking sweet and private. A smile just for me.
Because I like to torture myself, I tug her to me. Her arms wrap around me in a tight embrace. Everything about her is small. It makes me want to shield her from everything in this world .
Like a father?
Nothing about the way I hug her feels fatherly. In fact, if I think too much about her tits pressed against me, I’m going to get myself in trouble. My cock thickens as if on cue.
I clear my throat and pull away from her. “I don’t know what’s going to happen between me and your mom, but I want you to know I’m going to do everything I can to take care of you.”
The elation in her eyes dims and she frowns. It’s as though I’ve said the wrong thing to her. Without another word, she slips away and out the front door. I have to sprint again to catch up with her. The run back home isn’t warm and comforting like before. In fact, she doesn’t speak to me at all.
“I’ll ask Brayden to take me to school again,” she says when we reach Moonlit Gables. “See you later, Reid.”
I trot to a stop and watch as she runs off toward our unit. It’s impossible not to watch her ass as she runs. This time, though, I’m smart enough not to follow her inside. If I go in there, I might be tempted to jerk off again while she showers.
“I heard my name,” Brayden says, peeking out of the unit he shares with Casey now next door. “Emma needs a ride?”
“Yeah,” I grunt out.
“Casey went to work. Want to come inside and cool off? ”
My son has always been intuitive when it comes to people. If he senses they’re struggling in any way, he’s empathetic and wants to help. Probably got that savior complex from his old man.
Sorry, kid. It can be a bitch.
I follow him inside. The living room is currently undergoing a makeover. Plastic covers everything and paint cans are stacked by a window.
“Painting?” I say with a smirk as he fetches me a water bottle.
“Casey wants everything fresh for when the baby gets here.”
After chugging the entire bottle in a few long gulps, I squat beside the paint can to look at the color. “Nice. This is going to look good.”
We chat a bit about what he’s working on next, but then my son calls me out per usual.
“So,” Brayden drawls out. “How are things at home?”
“Spent the night on the couch,” I tell him honestly. “Told Amara I wanted to separate.”
“They’re still going to stay there?”
“Yup.”
He’s quiet for a moment and then nods. “Not going to tell you what to do, but you know that’s a bad idea, Dad.”
“It’s not for Amara’s sake.”
“Figured. ”
“I just…I don’t want to shake up Emma’s life, you know?”
Brayden stares at me for far too long. I shift under his scrutiny, unable to meet his probing eyes. Finally, he sighs in resignation. “Be careful, okay? Things could get messy.”
Am I that transparent?
Does he know I’ve been obsessing over my girlfriend’s daughter?
“If you, uh, decide to do anything,” Brayden says, dancing around the subject, “it’s probably best if you’re not still with Amara.”
Fuck.
“Whatever you think is happening, isn’t happening,” I mutter. “But your advice is noted.”
He gives my shoulder a hard squeeze. “Good. Want to get your mind off things for a few hours?”
I’ve never been so excited to paint in all my life.