Chapter 16
Evie
“Relax.” Ruby eyed me as she sipped the cucumber water. “Jasper’s got the baby.”
“Yes,” Frankie added from the cold plunge pool. “He’s basically auditioning for hot dad of the year today. Just let him do his thing.”
I sipped my own cucumber water and rolled my eyes. “I don’t think I can relax.”
Ruby glowered at me. “It’s your birthday, and you’ve been through a lot. Today is about girl time and hanging out.”
“Maybe I should text Jasper. Check on Vincent.”
Frankie sat up in the cold plunge pool. How she managed to survive in there for so long was a wonder. “No phones allowed,” she barked. “They said they had to be locked away.”
With a smirk, I reached into my cleavage. “I’m not leaving my phone.”
“Did you seriously stash an entire iPhone in your tits?” Frankie asked, though she suddenly wore an impressed look.
I nodded and tapped out a quick text to Jasper.
He responded immediately with a photo of a happy-looking Vincent gumming on his dad’s tattooed arm.
Okay, fine. They were okay. For now.
“That’s some impressive acreage,” she said, cupping her own small breasts over her bikini top.
Ruby, who was sitting on the edge of the hot tub, dangling her legs in the water, kicked, splashing me.
Even though she couldn’t fully enjoy the experience while pregnant, she’d pestered me to get in there and relax.
The place was lovely. The lounge was dimly lit, with soft music playing, and in here, with the large whirlpool and cold plunge, we had an incredible view of the Green Mountains.
Not to mention access to fluffy white towels and a variety of expensive lotions.
This should have been a birthday dream. Instead, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I should be with Vincent.
Jasper had taken care of him plenty of times, but never for more than a few hours.
This was a whole day. And while my heart was full of gratitude for my friends, who’d coordinated with him for a special birthday surprise, I was uneasy.
“I just don’t want to do anything wrong.” I set my phone on a low table nearby and lowered myself into the hot water. As I settled, I let out a sigh. Shit, this felt amazing.
Frankie pulled herself out of the cold plunge tub, then rolled her shoulders and shook out her chin-length hair. “You’re doing everything right. When I first met you, I thought you were uptight.”
“Hey.” I splashed her.
She stuck her tongue out at me. “But I’ve watched you adapt,” she went on. “To this town, to your new job, and now to being a mom. You were this big deal city girl in heels, and now look at you.” She waved an arm, gesturing to me. “You’re a real Vermonter.”
Ruby nodded, her lips pressed together. “You’ve grown, kid. You’re more mature.”
“And a shit ton weirder,” Frankie teased.
“Life has taken some turns.” Ruby’s smile was affectionate. “But you’re not screwing up. Honestly, I’d say you’re killing it.”
Frankie nodded sharply. “Agreed.”
The heat behind my eyes was back, the tears threatening to once again escape. Damn. Would the postpartum emotions ever level out?
Before they took over, thankfully, our wellness concierge, Shea, appeared, holding a clipboard. “It’s time for your citrus espresso detox.”
I’d been to the Thistle Inn a couple of times since I’d moved to Vermont. Once for brunch and a second time for a company event last summer. It was fancy.
New England fancy. Which is not the same as New York fancy.
The facility was in a massive white clapboard mansion, with green shutters and wide porches adorned with baskets of colorful flowers and climbing ivy.
The staff dressed in cheery green uniforms, and vintage chandeliers lit the grand lobby, which was filled with overstuffed wingback chairs and shelves lined with impressive looking books.
There were flowers on just about every surface—lavender, wild lupine, and daisies—creating a serene, old money elegance.
Shea led us down the path to a converted barn with arched windows. The view was breathtaking. Every time I looked somewhere new, all I found was beauty.
“We have you booked for the full day of pampering,” Shea said. “You have a private lounge, access to our amenities, and a full schedule of treatments. The chef is preparing some nibbles for you now, and we have multiple hydration options.”
Frankie smirked. With the cut-off tee she’d thrown on over her bikini and colorful tattoos, she looked extremely out of place, but she kept her head high, not the least bit bothered.
Especially once Shea mentioned reiki. For several minutes after, Frankie asked all sorts of questions.
“We use Vermont ingredients in our treatments where we can,” Shea explained. “We have maple sugar scrubs, local honey facials, and herbal soaks with wild chamomile collected on site.”
After we stripped out of our swimsuits and slid into the fluffiest of robes, Shea led us to a sunlit conservatory with wicker lounge chairs. I zoned out while she directed us to the various amenities, too busy taking in the wide expanse of green lawn that led to thick forest and wild mountains.
Close to the mansion, the shrubs and flowers were meticulously maintained and geometrically arranged, but farther out, the landscape got more and more wild.
It was what I loved about this area. Maplewood was a quaint, charming town filled with every comfort, but just outside city limits?
Pure wilderness. Bears and moose and mountains and waterfalls.
Thick forests and the kind of isolation I’d never had the chance to experience in the city.
For the next couple of hours, I was subjected to a detox scrub, a massage, and something called “sound healing” that made me doze off. All of which effectively forced most of the stress out of my body.
The girls and I were enjoying lunch on the terrace in our fluffy robes when Ruby squeaked and pointed across the rolling lawn. “Is that Jasper?”
Frankie lowered her sunglasses, her brows arched. “Jesus H. Christ. That is unfair.”
I followed their line of sight, and my stomach flipped over itself.
Jasper.
He was strolling around the ornate gardens with Vincent strapped to his chest in the baby carrier, bouncing and pointing out flowers and butterflies while our son smiled and kicked.
The man was clad in worn jeans and T-shirt, as usual, but the aviators cranked the hotness factor up a couple of notches.
Damn.
“Look at him,” Ruby hissed. “The tattoos. The broad shoulders. And the gentle dad moves. It’s like Mister Rogers and Tom Hardy wrapped up in one sexy package.”
“Mister Rogers?” Frankie cackled. “You’re into Mister Rogers?”
Ruby harrumphed. “I find nontoxic masculinity very attractive. Get some therapy. You’ll understand.”
“I guess that explains why Paul wears so many cardigans,” Frankie teased.
Ruby gave her the middle finger. I was too busy staring at the man still strolling around the grounds to respond.
“Are those tourists taking photos of him?” Ruby asked, a hand shading her eyes. “He’s officially a tourist attraction. Maybe we should make a calendar. We could sell it in my store. It’d sell out in days.”
“I may have just ovulated,” Frankie admitted. “And I’m pretty sure those parts of me are dead. Good thing Ruby’s already pregnant.”
Hit with a sudden wave of jealousy, I snagged my phone from the pocket of my robe.
Evie:
Are you and Vincent enjoying the gardens?
Jasper:
I didn’t mean to disturb you, but you seemed worried about being so far away from him.
I figured I’d bring him closer. But we can leave. This day is about you, mama.
My heart melted a little. I was enjoying myself, but knowing Vincent was close by chiseled away at my stress even more.
Evie:
Is he hungry? I was just about to pump.
Jasper:
He’s my son. He’s always hungry
Evie:
Meet me in the spa lobby. I’ll feed him before my reiki session.
I stood, tightening the belt on my robe. “I’m going to check on Vincent and nurse him.”
Frankie tossed her head back and barked a laugh. “Sure. Check on Vincent.” She turned to a delighted Ruby. “I think that’s code for ‘ogle the hot dad some more.’”
I pinned her with a look, though heat crept up my neck. “I’m not ogling.”
“Tell that to your face,” Ruby chirped. “It’s bright red.”
Frankie raised her mimosa. “I hate men, but if I had to hate one a bit less, it would be Jasper. He is a walking thirst trap with those sunglasses and the baby carrier.”
I left the lounge, annoyed with my friends but more so with myself and my traitorous stomach, which was flipping at the thought of seeing my child’s father.
Jasper and Vincent were settled on a plush loveseat when I stepped into in the small lounge area where Shea had led us to earlier. Jasper had his long legs stretched out, and he was holding Vincent so he hovered over him and making silly faces.
My breath hitched at the sight, and my heart thudded strangely when I realized that rather than fussy or distressed, Vincent was completely delighted.
As if he could sense my attention, Jasper shifted and zeroed in on me quickly. Then that damn smile—the slow, lazy one that made him look like he was holding on to a fun secret—spread across his face.
Shaking off the thought, I strode over and took Vincent and quickly situated myself on the chair beside Jasper’s.
The infuriatingly gorgeous man leaned over and produced the diaper bag, then pulled out my trusty nursing cover.
I spied the inside of the bag, confused. I’d never seen it look like that.
“Did you clean and organize that?” I asked, marveling. It looked like the kind I’d see on Instagram and glower at when I scrolled late at night. The ones posted by moms who had the most perfectly organized homes, cars, and diaper bags.
He smirked. “Yes. Preparedness is kind of my thing. On the rigs, every tool must be in the right place. There’s no time to hesitate during an emergency. And not having a binkie within reach definitely qualifies as an emergency.”
Once Vincent was latched, my body did its thing and relaxed. “Thank you.”
He put his hands behind his head and reclined. “No problem. Just admit you missed us.”
I averted my eyes and gently stroked Vincent’s head. “I missed my sweet baby.”
“Ouch,” Jasper said, putting a hand over his heart. “Ice cold. But I’ll take what I can get.”
He shifted, the motion pulling his shirt taut across his chest.
My gaze slipped before I could stop it, tracing the lines of ink down his arms, and heat quickly curled low in my belly.
When I forced myself to look up again, he was watching me, wearing a smug grin.
Shit. Busted.
“Today is about you, Evie. You deserve a break. And I’m happy to hang nearby if it helps you feel more relaxed.
” His tone was so sweet and sincere. For one dizzying second, I debated sitting next to him, letting him put his arm around Vincent and me.
But just as quickly, I banished the idea.
No way could I let my guard down like that.
So I focused on burping Vincent, not caring when he drooled all over my robe.
We sat silently as I switched sides, soaking up as many baby snuggles as I could. But before long, Vincent turned away, finished with his meal.
Reluctantly, I handed him back to his dad. “I should go. Frankie might drown in the mud bath without me.”
“Have fun.” He cradled our little guy in those inked, muscular arms as the baby’s eyes grew heavy. “He’ll be out for a while.”
“I’ll see you back at the house.” With that, I turned sharply and headed back to my friends. I needed to exit this situation before I said something stupid. Because as I’d eyed him holding our son, a heavy realization had hit me. I had missed him too.