Chapter 4
clem
From the driveway, I dial my sister’s number, chewing on the skin around my thumbnail as I wait for the call to connect. After five rings, her cheery voice answers.
“Heya. What’s up?”
“What are you up to?”
“Currently, not much. Beckett talked about maybe running some errands. Something about me getting out of the house before my ass permanently molds to the chair.” Her laughter echoes across the line through the speakerphone. “What are you doing?”
“Heading to Target to shop.”
“Oh, nice. With the boys?”
“Uh, no.” It’s not that I’m nervous to tell her Dax is watching them, but I can’t predict what her reaction will be. “So, um, Dax is babysitting.”
“Dax. As in Beckett’s brother? My brother-in-law. That Dax?” Surprise laces her tone.
“No, Dax Shepard.” I roll my eyes at the ridiculousness of that being true. Though the current reality of Dax Nicholas isn’t much less absurd.
“But why Dax? I could have come over and stayed with them.”
“He offered. Pretty much insinuated I take my time and not rush my trip. My children are presently snuggled up on the couch next to him. It’s so weird, Willa. An alternate universe has overtaken my house.”
“Whoa. Don’t go all ‘Willa.’” Our combined giggles surround me in the quiet van. “I’m still stuck on the fact he offered. To willingly stay at your house with your kids while you weren’t there.”
“I mean, same. Had I not been in the vicinity when he suggested it, I wouldn’t have believed it came from him.
But he’s here. Showed up early this morning with bagels and coffee.
” At the mention of it, I remember I didn’t finish the delicious hazelnut drink.
Oh well. Guess I’ll warm it when I get home.
“Still the same Dax we’re talking about? Big guy. Six two. Medium brown hair. Eyes of melted caramel.”
“Melted caramel? He’s not a character in one of your novels.”
“I stand by it. Tell me I’m lying.”
I close my eyes, visualizing the hue of his eyes.
A person’s eye color is the first thing I usually notice about them.
I liken it to being artsy, trying to capture the color on a canvas.
When I picture him, she’s not wrong. Her description accurately describes the color of his eyes.
I covertly stared into them enough to know.
“Yep, that’s him.” Shocking to both of us, I can’t dwell on it. I’m not concerned with his actions, just stymied. An idea hits. “Hey, want to come to Target with me? Figured I could do some shopping while I was there.”
“I kinda want to come up with an excuse for needing to go to your house to see what he’s up to.”
“Willafred, no. You will not do that.” Hopefully, my voice is stern enough to squash her idea.
“Of course I won’t. I said I wanted to, not that I’m going to. Would you have time to stop by the bookshop, too? I have more signed copies for Alanna.”
“I think that’s doable. Like I said, he told me not to rush.”
Except I’d feel guilty if I were out too long. The boys seem comfortable enough, but I don’t want to put them in a position to miss me. Especially Jace. I’ve never left him with a babysitter other than my parents and Shania, and the times with her were always short.
“Getting dressed now. Swing by and grab me in a few. Bye.” The line cuts off before she allows my response. Guess she figures one isn’t needed.
“I still can’t believe Dax is at your house” is Willa’s greeting when she climbs into the passenger seat of the van.
In place of a coat, she wears one of Beckett’s zip-up hoodies.
How she doesn’t freeze in weather like this is beyond me.
In fairness, she’s lived in Vermont four years longer than I have, so maybe she’s adjusted to the cold. I’m not sure I ever will.
“Let’s not keep rehashing it. He’s there. Move on.” If I don’t shut her down, she’ll bring it up every chance she gets.
“Okay, sure. Sorry. Didn’t realize it was such a touchy subject.” By the way she hides her smirk behind her hand, she doesn’t believe her lies. She buckles her belt. “You’re the one who first brought it up.”
“Because I had to tell someone, and you’re always my someone. But that doesn’t mean I want to keep talking about it.”
We’re still sitting in the driveway of her house, the one her husband had custom-built for her. The most my husband ever did for me was give me my children. I suppose we’re even.
“Why are your cheeks red?”
“Uh, it’s freaking freezing outside.” At least to this southern girl.
“It’s warm in here.”
“Must be that then.”
My twin ogles me, looking for something only she’s privy to. Though if I had to guess, I’d probably be right.
“Is there something going on between you and Dax?”
Her question stops me in my tracks.
“What? No.” My voice pitches high to a sound only dogs can hear. I try again. More calmly this time. “No. Why would you think that?”
She points to my cheeks and my neck. “Because your skin is all red and heated, Clementine.”
“I’m a redhead. My skin’s highly sensitive to my emotions. Not news to you.” I shake my head, hoping she doesn’t press. When she gives me a minute’s reprieve, I’m in the clear. I put the car in reverse, using my first ever backup camera to navigate out of her driveway.
“He’s not the relationship type. I’m not sure he’ll ever settle down.”
She’s talking about Dax, but I ask, “Who?”
“Dax.”
“Thanks, I guess. What do I need that information for?”
I can’t let my eyes stray from the road, but I feel her staring.
“Because I know you. You can’t help but get attached to people.
It’s both a blessing and a curse. You won’t want to be single forever, and I don’t blame you, but all I’m saying is don’t make him into someone he’s not.
He’s not built to be more than he is. Who he shows you. ”
“I’m not looking for a relationship. Hell, I’m not even officially divorced yet.
” My words are heated. I’m pretending it’s because she’s wrong.
“Bet he’d be a good lay, though. Even if just once, to break this stupid years-long dry spell.
” I’m not sure what makes me spew the words, but at least it’s only Willa.
She knows me inside and out, sometimes better than I know myself, and she doesn’t judge me for my actions.
“You have to be okay with being a number on his list.”
We’re stopped at a light when she issues the statement, so I turn toward her. “Is that you giving me permission?”
“It’s me saying be careful. You’re kinda vulnerable right now. I don’t want to see you more hurt. He wouldn’t do it on purpose, but the possibility’s there. He isn’t some random guy you’d never run into again. He’s my brother-in-law. You’d be stuck with him for life if things go sour.”
“Jeez. Way to bring a girl down. Always gotta go to the dark side, even when your life is the happiest it could be. I haven’t even had sex with him, and you’re giving major ‘I asked for a pony for Christmas and got a dictionary’ energy.”
Willa reacts by breaking out into a fit of giggles, taking a minute to calm down. The light’s green, so my attention is back on the road. “I’m sorry, but what? Want to say that again?”
“Nope. Once was enough.” I’m certainly not going to embarrass myself further, even if she is my sister and closest friend. I blow out a breath. “I miss sex.” Again, my lack of filter—something that happens more when I’m around Willa—gets the better of me.
“Can’t say the same.”
“Don’t rub it in. I don’t need to hear about it.”
“Maybe a fling would do you good. Find an out-of-towner, someone who can fuck your brains out and then be on his way.”
What if I’d rather have the man I already know ignites a fire within me?
At Target, I find what I need in about thirty minutes, but Willa takes her time, confirming what Dax was talking about.
The thought of him has me pulling my phone from my purse and shooting him a text.
To ask how the kids are. Make sure my babies are okay.
How’s it going?
Swell
I wait for more to come in, but when nothing does, I reply again.
Care to elaborate?
“Does Atlas need more Legos? Is Jace into them yet?” Willa’s question draws my attention toward her. How did we get back to this aisle? Why am I so lost in my head today?
Dax.
He’s got me all twisted up in knots.
Well, not only him. More so Willa telling me he’s not more than what he seems. As if I thought otherwise.
Except, isn’t he? Would I have considered he’d be the guy to volunteer to watch my kids for the morning? To bring us breakfast and coffee? To color?
No, not even a little.
“We’ve got plenty of Legos, but Atlas will tell you he can never have enough.”
“Super. I’ll pick up a set for each of them.” I point out ones we don’t have since they’re brand-new, and she adds them to her overflowing cart.
A text alert returns my focus to my phone.
*selfie of Dax and the boys in the same spot on the couch*
We’ve gotten up to pee and get drinks but they seem into this movie. How’s shopping?
I dragged Willa with me. I understand your earlier comments. I’m not sure I see the appeal, but she seems very content in wasting time wandering around the aisles
The more you do it, the easier it gets
Do you speak from experience? ‘Cause it sounds that way . . .
I bite my lip. Is this crossing the line into flirting? Because we’re not talking about the kids anymore, and that’s the only reason I should text with Dax, right?
Told ya. Autumn and Heidi do it
But you seem way invested in it. I’m thinking that maybe it’s something you do. Or have done
I hit send without thinking through the consequences of what I’m doing.
Trust me when I tell you when I’m wasting time by myself it’s not shopping at Target
I gasp. I’m not sure exactly what he’s implying, but I have an inkling.
Before I get my fingers to type a response—how do I even respond—another message comes through.
Mind doing me a favor while you’re there?
Sure
Send me some pics of their ugly sweaters. Like the ugliest ones
Uh, sure?
Thanks
“I have to check on something for Dax,” I tell Willa, who raises a brow. “I can’t not do him this favor when he’s at home with my kids and I’m here shopping with you.”
“Depends on the favor, I suppose,” she retorts, crossing her arms over her chest.
“I’ll be in the men’s clothing department.” My face flushes, but I don’t let it deter me from escaping to the back of the store.
I locate the stash of ugly sweaters, sorting through them to find the ugliest one. They’re all hideous and stupid and mass-produced. Wonder what he needs it for.
Snapping a few pictures, I send them off and wait for his response.
That’s all?
Unfortunately
Should I ask him what he needs it for? Is that too intrusive? Though he opened the door . . .
What’s it for?
the Nicholas family Ugly Sweater contest. I need to win this year. Can’t let Beck outdo me two years in a row
None of these are going to win
Oops.
No kidding. I need to wow the judges. I need pizazz. I need unique
Does it have to be store-bought
Nope. It only has to be ugly. Well, I suppose ugly is subjective, but the uglier ups the chances of winning. I haven’t won in a while
I can’t help my brain thinks in images. Apparently, ugly Christmas sweater images.
Can you hire out the job
Ain’t no one got time to make what I’d need in time for Christmas. Unless I want to pay up the wazoo. The trophy isn’t worth it
But if you could find someone who could do it for cheap, it would be allowed?
I’d have to consult the rule book, but I think so
When do you need it by?
I’m guessing soon-ish if it’s a Christmas thing. If I shift some things around, it shouldn’t take that long to make. Long as I can get what I need in time.
Instead of answering with a text, my phone vibrates in my hand, Dax’s name displayed. My first worry is something’s wrong with the boys.
“What happened?” I answer as an opening.
“Nothing. They’re fine.”
A whoosh of breath releases. “Figured you’d only be calling for an emergency.”
“Boys, tell your mom we’re all fine.” There’s some rustling over the line.
“We’re good,” Atlas calls out in the background.
“Real good,” Jace adds.
I put my hand over my heart, trying to slow down the mama bear response from something being wrong.
“So why are you calling me?”
“The back and forth was too much for my fingers.”
“Oh, ok-ay.” This guy continues to surprise me. I defer to my unanswered question. “When do you need it by?”
“Christmas Eve Eve. Ideally before to make sure it fits and everything. Do you know someone who can help?”
“Yeah. Me.”