35. When the inspiration hits again
THIRTY-FIVE
WHEN THE INSPIRATION HITS AGAIN
TROY
Mira sleeps longer than usual. She didn’t nap well earlier in the day, so she’s probably tired. This means after dinner, I get to stay at the table and eat my pumpkin pie with whipped cream while watching Shark conversing with my dad in the living room.
Shark sat on the lone chair facing the dining room. I’d like to think it was so he could watch me, carefully, so people wouldn’t notice. He leans back and sticks a hand in his pocket. He pulls out a lollipop and unwraps it, then pops it into his mouth. A subtle glance my way, only long enough to acknowledge I’m watching him.
As if I needed a reminder of how sexy this man is. As if I could’ve forgotten how much I’m attracted to him because he’s so much older than me. Now he’s my dad’s friend and our new neighbor. It sounds wrong to be attracted to him, even a little forbidden. Holy crap, now I’m really turned on.
My aunt slides in next to me with her piece of pie. She forks it while watching Shark. “Good Lawd, what do these European men eat that makes them so sexy?”
“Pussy,” I say.
Sabina spits her hot chocolate all over the table.
My aunt snorts and starts coughing as the pie slides down the wrong pipe.
My mom gapes. “Troy Helena Montgomery, you know better than to talk like that at the table.” She turns to Sabina, who’s apologizing for the mess. “Oh honey, it’s okay. Troy can be such a darn sass-hole.”
Levi rushes over with paper towels. “What’d she say?”
“Nothing.” I blush. My mom is right. I can’t believe I said that to my aunt, who has a crush on my secret fiancé, and I said it right in front of my mom.
I stand to grab more tissues for Sabina, but Levi’s getting more already.
On the baby monitor, Mira coos.
My eyes meet Shark’s, and I catch the moment his body leans forward as if he’s going to get up to answer her call, but he grips the arm of the chair and remains seated. When Mira coos louder, and I’m still watching him, he jerks his head toward her bedroom, signaling I should go and get her.
I roll my eyes at him, which makes him smile briefly before he turns back to watch the football game on TV. I’m not even sure he knows what’s going on during the game, since football in Europe is what we call soccer and that’s not what my dad’s into.
But knowing Shark, he doesn’t mind watching whatever. He’s not here for the game. He’s here for the company. He’s here for me and the baby. I can only hope my dad won’t smell our bullshit before we can make whatever this is that Shark’s started when he moved into my small town work between us.
I feed Mira on the rocking chair, dress her nicely, and tell her that Daddy’s here.
I’m on my way out when I remember the monitor. Oh no! I was telling my baby her daddy’s here, and fuck if my dad won’t pick up on it. He will. My dad’s smart and paranoid, like any healthy average police officer in the country.
I want to stop before I come out of the hallway. I don’t know what to expect, but I bite my lip, summon some lady balls, and return to the group. The women ooh and ahh at how cute Mira is. My dad is still glued to the TV. Shark’s toying with the monitor.
“Oh hey,” I say, using the opportunity to talk with him. “I forgot to turn it off.”
“Mmhm,” Shark says. “It broke when you started talking in there, but I’ll try to fix it if you want.”
“Oh, you don’t have to do that,” I say. “Here. Let’s switch and I’ll take a look.” I hand him the baby and sit beside my dad, who rubs my back just before he gets up and stretches, checking his watch. “Is it time for cards yet?”
My mom answers, and he moves to the table. Also, our team is losing big-time, and Dad hates losing.
We are alone. Shark and I are alone in the living room. I turn up the TV to cover our conversation and lean back as if I’m watching it intently, but my eyes are on him and Mira.
Thank you , he mouths, and I think he’s thanking me for letting him hold the baby.
But I have so many things to thank him for. Thank you for disabling the monitor. I don’t know how you did it, but you did.
Thank you for risking everything to move here.
Thank you for saving my life.
Thank you for accepting Mira as yours.
Shark sighs as if he’s releasing the worries of the world when he brings her to his chest. Then he gets up to stand by the window. I catch the moment he kisses her head, and something inside me mends. I think it might be my heart. It also might be my soul. Or it’s the feeling of rightness in my gut, settling in and informing me that my man holds my baby and we’re now a family.
I wait a few minutes until my parents pull out UNO cards and everyone gets really loud before I approach Shark. I stand as close to him as I possibly can without rubbing on him. Which means our elbows are touching.
Night’s fallen, but we have an operating streetlight near our house, so I can make out a tall figure dressed in a long black coat standing beside a sleek black car. The man rubs his hands and blows in them, then gets into his car.
“Alessio?” I ask.
Shark nods. “I went on my first annual Thanksgiving vacation before I completed all the items on his list. He got suspicious and tracked me down.”
I chuckle. “He’s welcome inside, you know. I don’t hate him as much as I did when you peeled off in that car under the bridge.”
Shark changes the subject. “I must complete the list. I’ll be leaving tonight, but I’ll be back.”
“I know. How long will you be gone?” I want to converse in more depth, but I’m afraid someone will overhear us as it is, so I remain vague. Shark’s not a big talker anyway, and his answers are generally short.
“Not long,” he says.
“Do you think Denver will recognize you?”
“He might.”
Damn. “What then?”
“I’ll handle Denver.”
I gasp. I don’t like the sound of that.
Shark side-eyes me. “Not like that.” He pauses. “Unless you hire me.”
I bite my lip when he smiles. We’re funny together.
“Is she fed?” he asks.
“Yeah.”
“So I can have her for a few more minutes?”
“You can have her for as long as you want, Shark Daddy. She’s yours.”
He grins, but, then his eyes soften when he looks at me. Really looks at me. “How about you, Troy? Are you okay?”
Tears well up in my eyes, and I can’t answer because if I do, I’ll cry. So I nod, wishing I could kiss him, wishing I could touch him, but for now, I’ll take him any way I can get him. We’ll figure out the rest as we flow with the passing time.
I pinch my lips, we hide the truth,
’Cause when you look at me, I can’t keep my cool.
You ask about Mira, I say she’s yours,
It’s you who’s been keepin’ me up at night.
“Paper.” I walk around the living room, looking everywhere and finding nothing. I open the hidden drawer under the TV and find three remote controls from 1955. “Paper, paper, where is paper.” I stand in the middle of the living room hoping I don’t hyperventilate from excitement. “Daddy, where are all the papers?” Quickly!
Can’t stop the current, when you’re on my mind.
My dad hands me the pad and pen, but I can’t move, afraid that if I move, my brain won’t “write” any more of this song.
“Child,” my mom says, “are you well?”
“I’m afraid if I move, the rest won’t come.”
My dad puts the notepad and pen on the coffee table. “It’s here when you’re done doing whatever you’re doing.” He looks at Shark. “Already got you babysitting, huh?” With that, he sits back down at the dining room table and throws a card on the pile. He holds up another card. “Uno, losers.”
I’ll wait for you, I’ll wait for us,
While the world flows on, I’m holdin’ us
in the words of her song.
I sit down on the couch, write down what came to me, make a few edits, read it back out loud, chew on the tip of the pen. “This is so cheesy.” Gah.
“Give it.” Levi appears next to me and snatches the paper from me. I protest and try to take it back, but he holds it up and makes me jump to try to reach it. Levi is tall. No way I can reach the paper.
Denver can. He sneaks up from behind Levi and grabs the paper and reads.
“It’s stupid,” I say. “Don’t read it.”
“My millions of fans say your songs aren’t stupid.” He looks up and says, “You know how the fans renamed ‘When She Left’ into ‘Troy’s Song’?”
“Yeah,” Liam answers.
He holds up the paper. “This is Mira’s song.”
“Oh, don’t be silly,” I say even though butterflies lift in my belly. I haven’t felt those creative little beauties in a long time, the ones that make me want to write music, get excited about the creative process, the madness of it all.
Denver slaps the paper on my chest. “Finish it.”
“Boy,” my dad says as he walks by. “You better watch how you talk to women in my house.”
“Mmhm,” Shark mumbles. “Shooters abound.”