27. Garrett
GARRETT
I recline on the wingback chair, my brain in a temporary fog after pushing out a hefty word count so far today.
I’ve returned to my old routine over the past week. The only major difference is I now spend lunch with Peony and Athena. And I no longer pick up food from P&T.
Which means I haven’t seen Zara since I kissed her ten days ago, other than the time she came to see Peony.
But Mom was here, and it would have been too awkward to talk about the kiss then.
And then there was the time I bumped into Zara at the grocery store…
but she was with Emily. And I also couldn’t talk to her about the kiss when I saw her on Main Street while I was shooting some videos to post on social media. She was with Jess and Troy.
If not for this stupid deadline, I’d be able to go to her apartment and make sure things aren’t awkward between us. I mean, it shouldn’t be. It was barely a kiss. Nothing to get awkward over.
Yeah, you just keep telling yourself that.
A happy squeal outside my window tugs my attention to Peony and Athena in the backyard.
Also, if not for this stupid deadline, I’d have more time to get to know my daughter. Other than the one time almost two weeks ago, when she let me carry her home from the playground, we haven’t made that much progress with her accepting me as her father.
It’s not like I’ve been able to go to the playground with Athena and Peony either.
My deadline has stolen that possibility from me.
I pick up my phone and type out a text to Zara—at least that hasn’t changed since the second kiss. Our brief phone calls and texts have seemed normal, as if we had never kissed. Clearly the kisses haven’t had the same effect on Zara that they’ve had on me.
Me: Hey, how are things going?
I hit Send.
It’s Friday afternoon. Usually, I would be joining my brothers and our friends for our weekly game night, but that won’t be possible this time.
I’ll be away this weekend with a large group of retired soldiers, who are participating in the Wilderness Warriors canoe trip.
To make up for lost time, I need to stay home tonight and work on Untold Mercy .
Which means I can take a short break now and spend it with my daughter.
I put my laptop on the desk and go outside to join Peony and Athena. Athena is running in slow motion while Peony chases after her. They don’t notice me watching them, smiling at how much fun they’re having.
Fun I’m missing out on.
Peony taps Athena on the leg, a wide goofy grin on her face.
Athena feigns surprise, her eyes round. “Oh, no! You caught me.”
I step onto the grass. “Can I play too?”
“Of course,” she singsongs. “We’re playing tag.” Athena swiftly stretches toward me and taps my arm. “And you’re it . Run, Peony!”
Peony squeals again and runs in the opposite direction. With my long legs and her much shorter ones, it will only take three strides to catch her.
I crouch like a frog and leap forward. “ Ribbitt . Ribbitt. ”
“Oh, no. Someone turned your daddy into a frog.” Athena snickers. “You think he’s like the frog on The Princess and the Frog ? If his true love kisses him, will he turn into a prince? ”
The mention of kisses has my brain reeling again, and the memory of my lips on Zara’s plagues me for the millionth time in the past ten days.
That’s not the only memory that replays in my head. The sight of her erect nipples pressed against the thin fabric of her T-shirt has appeared in more than one dream.
Stop. Thinking. About. The kiss.
I leap several more times, my thighs burning, no doubt thanks to my hard run with Kellan a few hours ago. “ Ribbitt. Ribbitt. ”
Peony giggles uncontrollably and flops sideways onto the grass.
Leap. “ Ribbitt .” Leap. “ Ribbitt .” Chuckling, I collapse next to her and roll onto my back. Wispy clouds dot the blue sky above us.
Peony pushes to her feet. I expect her to go to Athena like she normally does, but she clambers onto my stomach, surprising the air out of my lungs with an “ Oof. ”
She giggles once more and wiggles farther onto my abs, her knee poking into my side.
Other than the low laugh, I stay motionless. Two weeks ago, I couldn’t have imagined a moment like this, where she trusted me enough to voluntarily get this close.
And now I can’t wipe the grin off my face if I tried.
Peony wiggles and squirms until she’s sitting on my stomach. It’s not exactly comfortable for me, but hell if I’m pointing that out.
“ Ribbitt. Ribbitt .” The movement in my abs from making the noise shifts Peony up and down.
“ Wi-witt . Wi-witt ,” she says, trying to imitate me.
Athena kneels next to us. “What an adorable little froggie.” She pats Peony on the head.
A mark I haven’t noticed before peeks from beneath the scooped neckline of Athena’s T-shirt. It’s not a tattoo. More like a raised scar, the color faded to pink. There’s almost a pattern to it, but it’s hard to tell for sure. Her top hides most of it.
“What happened?” I point to the scar.
Athena looks where I’m pointing and readjusts her neckline to cover it. “Oh, it’s nothing. It’s the mark of a fairy. Some might say it’s the magical kiss of one.” The last part is said in a god-awful imitation of an English or Irish accent.
Translation: she doesn’t want to talk about it. Fair enough. I have scars on my body I don’t want to discuss either. Even Zara, my brothers, and my parents don’t know how some of them came to be.
Athena straightens to her feet. “Are you two ready for dinner?”
Peony shifts to lie on her stomach again and wiggles off me.
“Yes, please. Thank you.” In one smooth move, I rock to my feet and stand.
Peony lifts her hands above her head. “Up.”
Her arms aren’t raised in front of Athena like they usually would be. Peony is holding her arms up to me, an expectant look in her eyes, my favorite toothy smile on her face.
And my heart responds with a booming, Hell, yes.
I don’t make her ask twice. Wearing a shit-eating grin, I hoist her in my arms.
My phone pings in my pocket. It’s probably Zara. I want to check my phone to make sure she’s okay, but I also don’t want to end this moment with Peony and put her down just yet.
I fly her around the backyard, doing whatever it takes to make her laugh and squeal with joy. But after several minutes of dipping and twirling her in the air, my arms and shoulders and upper-back muscles start to burn.
“Coming in for a landing.” I lower her onto the grass and pull out my phone.
Zara: I’m doing good. Miss seeing you.
I type my reply.
Me: Me too. So…about that kiss.
My finger hovers over the send button.
Do you think about it too? Do you want to do it again, even though we shouldn’t? It’s not that way between us. We’re just friends. Good friends. The best of friends .
I delete the last part of the text, leaving only the first two words, and hit Send.
Me: Kick everyone’s asses tonight. For me.
Unless I was called away on a search and rescue mission for several days, I usually got to see Zara daily. And for plenty of those times, it was just the two of us hanging out together.
Not seeing her as much as before feels unnatural. Like part of me has been hacked off.