Chapter 30
Evie
“Are you sure you can take the time off?”
“Of course.”
The sight of Jasper packing unlocked a whole new kink for me. The diaper bag was prepped for blowouts and every other potential natural disaster. The items in the trunk of my car were neatly arranged, and every weather possibility had been accounted for.
I’d also caught him ironing my clothes while I was on a Zoom call in the living room. “You iron?”
“Yes.” He dipped his chin. “My uniforms have to be ironed. Why?”
“It’s hot.”
“Yes, Evie,” he teased. “Irons use heat to press out wrinkles.”
I stuck my tongue out. “No. I mean the action. You ironing? It’s sexy.”
Jasper drove, as cautious as ever with our precious cargo loaded in the back seat, while I prepped my notes for the roundtable I was attending in New York.
I spent most of the trip researching the other attendees and generally freaking out.
I used to do this thing all the time. The hedge fund I used to work for employed few women, so I was always trotted out in the name of so-called equality. Assholes.
I’d agreed to this trip months ago, before Vincent was born. It had seemed like a great opportunity at the time. Now, I’d rather cuddle up with Vincent and Jasper and shut the world out. With all that had been going on at work, taking two days off was a luxury I wasn’t sure I could afford.
But Jasper had jumped at the chance to help out with Vincent so I could keep him close by.
And it was an honor to be invited to this kind of thing, to network with peers.
And selfishly, I need the validation that I hadn’t thrown my career away when I moved to Vermont.
That what I did had value and relevance in the broader world.
So we set off with way more gear than we could ever need and the snacks Jasper had packed for us.
For a baby who didn’t ride in the car much, Vincent was pretty happy. I’d ordered a mirror toy that hung from the top of his car seat recently, and he seemed to really enjoy it, kicking and squealing every few minutes.
As we sang along to Jasper’s playlist, his hand on my thigh, I found even navigating the city’s ridiculous traffic to be less stressful.
“I did something,” I admitted to Jasper as he was putting the Pack ’n’ Play together in the hotel room. “I texted my sister.”
He looked up, his face a mask of concern. “Are you okay? Did she respond?”
The simple questions hit me in the solar plexus. Because even as this big, strong man kneeled on the floor, trying to make sense of the instructions that had come with the Pack ’n’ Play, he was more than happy to spare time to worry about my emotional state. I was living in a dream. I had to be.
But I’d told him more about my fucked-up family than I’d shared with even Ruby or Frankie.
And he’d listened intently, never interrupting.
And he hadn’t even tried to fix it for me.
But putting my hurt into words was a blessing.
His family was a damn Norman Rockwell painting, but somehow, he didn’t judge me or pity me for my dysfunctional one.
“She lives in the city.” I sighed. “And I don’t know. I just thought maybe she’d want to see Vincent.”
“What did she say?”
I yanked my phone from my pocket and eyed the screen, trying to quiet my racing heart. “She said she’d come to the hotel to see us after the conference.”
He stood up and wrapped me in a hug. “If this is what you want, then I support you 100 percent. If you change your mind at the last minute, that’s fine too. We can hide in an alley if we need to.”
His eyes crinkled as he teased. God, he was gorgeous.
I couldn’t not kiss him. So I pulled him down, and he was more than happy to oblige.
Our son was not so easygoing a moment later when he fussed and shifted in his car seat and promptly screamed at me to be fed.
Jasper was right. I didn’t have to see my sister.
She and I had a tense relationship. Mainly because I’d stopped speaking to my abusive parents and she was still deeply enmeshed with them.
She was the consummate daddy’s girl, the golden child.
All our lives, she’d managed to escape his wrath. Giovanna could do no wrong.
To this day, she defended him, so when I stopped speaking to my father, I lost her by default.
Jasper was right. I could always cancel if it felt wrong. I was the one who’d had the baby. He was the perfect built-in excuse to get out of things I didn’t want to do.
For now, though, I had to put that out of my mind. It was time to put on my big girl pants, which were finally starting to button again, and be professional Evie.
Did I even belong here anymore? That thought had run through my mind more than once. I’d spent thirty years of my life in this city, yet it felt so foreign. So wrong. Too loud, too busy, just too much.
The sky was barely visible between skyscrapers. And had the sidewalks always been this crowded?
At the Women in Marketing Conference, Jasper kept Vincent strapped to his chest and hung out with me while I waited to be introduced for the panel I was speaking on.
He was distractingly handsome, something that just about every other attendee appreciated if the looks they were giving him were any indication.
“Look at Mommy,” he said to Vincent, cupping his head tenderly. “She’s so pretty and smart. We’re so proud of her, aren’t we?”
The noise in the bustling lobby echoed off the sleek marble floors, making it nearly impossible to have a conversation, and women in suits furiously tapping out emails on their phones, stood everywhere I looked.
I gave Jasper a sassy look, but deep down, my heart was melting. Both dressed in blue today, it hit me. How much Vincent looked like his father. The green eyes and the arched brows, the single dimple.
For months, all I’d seen in my son was myself. My dark hair and the shape of my lips. But he was half Jasper. Obviously, but emotionally, I supposed I hadn’t processed that.
“You could run this whole thing, you know that?” Jasper shuffled closer and kissed my forehead, being sure not to squish our little guy between us.
I was still getting used to how casual his affection was. How he touched and kissed and hugged in the most natural way. How generous he was with his smiles and his laughter. How perfectly his body comforted me.
He had been true to his word and had not pressured me or asked for any definition.
We were floating along in a sea of orgasms and baby giggles and forehead kisses.
Strangely, other than that blip of desire for a label at girls’ night, the unknown hadn’t prompted anxiety attacks, and every day, I felt more comfortable with him.
“Please.” I rolled my eyes. “I could not. I’m just hoping I don’t have spit-up on my blazer and can speak coherently for an hour.”
“If you do find spit-up, then think of it as a badge of honor.” He winked at me. “And don’t talk negatively about yourself. You’ve got this. We’re your cheerleaders.”
He raised Vincent’s little arms in a mock cheer, and the two of them smiled, their matching dimples on display.
“Evangelina Marino.” An impeccably dressed woman in her fifties wielding a clipboard scanned the space.
I waved at her, pressed a kiss to Vincent’s head, then took a step back.
Jasper grasped my arm before I could walk away. “Do I get one too?”
Lips twitching, I moved in again. I kissed him chastely, but as I did, his hand traveled down, giving my ass a firm squeeze.
“Knock ’em dead.”