11. Easton
Easton
Something shifted when we had our weird little heart to heart.
I can’t say what. Or even pinpoint what it is that’s different.
All I know is since then my chest hasn’t felt as constricted and Vivi seems more at ease around me. Not that she’s been high strung or anything. I think she’s naturally tense, as though she’s constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop.
She’s never come off as anxious or nervous, if anything she’s confident, unfazed by any situation. But with that comes a stiffness I’m not sure she’s aware she has. Or even if anyone else notices it.
Okay, maybe I’ve spent too much time watching her. I’ll own that because I can’t deny she fascinates me. I want to know every little thing about her. Have since the second I saw her, which is unlike me when it comes to women.
I’ve dated. I’m not a monk or anything in spite of my recent celibacy. But until Vivi turned up at Vail’s house last December I hadn’t found interest in a woman since…
Fuck .
The last time I indulged in sex I was halfway drunk and screwed some woman whose name I don’t remember—if I even got it.
I can’t pull up an image of her either. The encounter is a hazy memory of a quick fuck in the private bathroom of a club opening I attended at the request of the owner who had bought the building from QVE the year before.
I hadn’t even checked if the woman was okay before fastening my pants and exiting the bathroom—leaving the club.
Not my finest moment.
But then random hookups had lost their appeal long before that night and I will admit to feeling lonely before that night and being ashamed of my behavior after it.
I still don’t know what possessed me to take the woman up on her offer other than she was persistent, wore me down when my initial answer had been no. The countless number of drinks I knocked back probably added to my eventual acceptance of her offer.
Shaking my head clear of the past, I look at my future, or the woman who will share it with me. If I’m lucky.
She’s on the couch beside me, her head tilted at an angle that can’t be comfortable to rest on my shoulder. I don’t think she made it through the first fifteen minutes of the movie before she fell asleep.
I should move her to the bed before Cade wakes up for a bottle. If I do, I can unlock the wheels on the cradle and bring him out here so he doesn’t disturb her.
Leaving the movie running, I try to scoot out from under her without letting her drop to the couch.
I underestimated her depth of sleep though, because I barely have my hand supporting her head, my butt an inch or two forward on the cushion when she comes awake with a snap.
One second we’re together on the couch, the next Vivi is standing between my spread legs, her hands gripping my shoulders, wide eyes on mine.
“What? What’s wrong?” Her gaze darts around the room. “Where’s Cade?”
“Hey.” I grip her hips, pull her a little closer. “Easy. He’s okay. Still asleep. Like you were a seconds ago.”
“I fell asleep?”
Her confusion is cute and I can’t stop a smile from lifting my lips at the thought of telling her. “Yeah. Right after we started the movie.”
“Oh.” Confusion and sleep cloud her eyes and she stares at me like I have the answers to a million questions.
Is it wrong that I want to kiss her right now?
Her hair and clothes are a little rumpled and she has a bit of sleep in the corner of one eye, but in this moment her appeal is tenfold what it normally is.
Because she’s unguarded.
Sure, she shot up like a rocket the second her brain came online but her usual wariness isn’t in her gaze and she’s touching me—letting me touch her—when I know she’s done her best to avoid contact since we raced home to rescue Cade from the doorstep.
Fuck, she’s done her best to keep distance between us from the second we met and sparks flew. Neither of us has mentioned our attraction, other than me repeatedly asking her out, but we’ve silently acknowledged it.
We stay like that, each caught in our own thoughts, Vivi standing between my knees, my hands on her hips, the movie droning on in the background, and I swear I can hear her heart beating double-time.
Or is that mine?
I’ve wanted this woman for months and in less than a day I’ve taken her on an aborted date, begged her to help me care for a baby who isn’t mine, convinced her to move in with me, and talked her into getting married.
Fuck . I’ve even had her in my bed!
And yet this is the closest we’ve come physically.
My body isn’t oblivious to her nearness either.
It is my heart I hear pounding in my ears. Along with throbbing in my groin and a dick trying its best to burst out of my pants and touch her, I can no longer ignore the effect she has on me.
Not that I’ve tried all that hard to push aside those feelings.
If anything, I’ve embraced them because how else do you explain my constant requests for a date?
This woman had me before hello and I’m here for whatever she gives me. I don’t know the entirety of her past, can’t say why she doesn’t trust many people. I can guess though, and that would be an educated guess, because while I haven’t outright asked her or anyone else, I’ve listened.
Soaked up every piece of information about Vivian Lenore Garnett I could get.
She’s been an obsession I didn’t see coming. One I have no qualms continuing to indulge in.
“What time is it?”
Her sleep-raspy voice has me focusing back on her. “I don’t know. Ten?”
“Cade hasn’t stirred yet?”
The way she thinks of him first has me more convinced than ever she’s the perfect person to help me raise him. “Not yet.”
“It’s been roughly four hours since he had his last bottle.”
“Yeah, but it took longer for him to go to sleep after so maybe he’ll go longer before his next one.” I shrug. “It’s all a guessing game at this point.”
“He needs routine. We screwed that up by driving here.”
I nod. “It was the safest way to get here.”
“I know.” Her eyes pop wide, and with a jerk she lets go of my shoulders, jumps back a couple of feet, and twists her hands together. “Sorry!”
I don’t know what she’s apologizing for or why she suddenly noticed how close we were, but I’m not about to let her apologize when she hasn’t done anything wrong.
“Nothing you need to be sorry for. I startled you awake. I should be the one to apologize.”
“I shouldn’t have fallen asleep. I don’t normally do that.” The scrunch of her brow shows her confusion.
“You were tired. It’s been a long…fuck.” I shove a hand through my hair. “It hasn’t even been twenty-four hours!”
“A bit more.”
“Still, I picked you up last night for our date and now you’ve moved in with me, we’re in Atlanta with a newborn who isn’t ours, and we’re getting married.”
“You’re right, it seems a lot to pack into one day.”
“Feels like we’ve been together a lifetime.”
At my words her head tips to the side and she studies me like I’ve seen her do when she’s digging into a subject she’s intrigued by.
I let her look for a few minutes before standing. “We should check on Cade. Get ready for bed.”
“Oh. You don’t want to watch…” she glances over her shoulder. “What were we watching?”
“Don’t know. You picked it.” And I was pleasantly surprised when I worked out she’d picked a romantic comedy. “You said you hadn’t seen it.”
“Hmm…” With a shake of her head, she turns back and smiles. “I haven’t and now I know why. It was obviously boring.”
Her reasoning might make her feel better than the thought of being so comfortable with me she fell asleep so I let it slide. “It’s not bad. Well, what I watched was all right. Not winning any awards or anything but then I don’t remember the last time I sat and watched a movie, so who am I to judge how good this one is?”
As if she has some sixth sense, she tips her head toward the bedroom a second before Cade lets out a cry. With a smile, she says, “That’s our cue. I’ll get him, you get his bottle.”
My hope of spending more time alone with Vivi dissolves and I resign myself to sharing her with the boy we’ve taken on.
Should I be jealous of a newborn?
Fuck no.
Am I jealous of a newborn?
Fuck yes.
That might make me an asshole but I don’t care.
I’ve spent months trying to get her attention and now that I have it, I’m forced to share it.
“I’ll get his bottle and meet you in the bedroom,” I say to her back. She’s already out of the room before my final words leave my mouth.
I can’t tell if she’s rushing so Cade doesn’t get as upset as he did earlier today or if our closeness spooked her.
Reading her is hard and easy. She’s a contradiction I want to understand. Her social skills seem normal until you spend a lot of time with her. Then you notice the little things like the constant thinking, the way she watches others, studies them like she’s peeling back their layers to see what’s beneath.
I’ve caught her looking at me like that on a number of occasions, and I’m here for it. She can study me all she wants. As long as she lets me do the same.
Because working out Vivi, what she thinks, what makes her tick, has quickly become my life’s mission.
And I’m not above letting a baby help me do it.