CHAPTER SIXTEEN
“Bye, Mom!”
Lisset gives me a one-armed hug but opts to skip the farewell kiss. Watching her scamper through the school gates, her sweet strawberry scent still swirling around me, I know it’s only a matter of time before she’s a senior, throwing herself out of my car and pretending to her friends she somehow levitated to school.
As I drive away, I’m left with an ache in the center of my chest. Tess is right. This beautiful girl is going to grow up and leave me, because I’m raising her to leave. That’s my task as a parent, to raise my child to be a functional, emotionally healthy, and independent young adult. My skin suddenly feels too tight for my bones. I’m training the best and most precious part of my life to live without me. It’s a truth I’m not equipped to deal with on a Friday morning. Never mind that Lisset is only eight and this day is still more than ten years away. Ten years will go by in the blink of an eye.
It’s been an incredibly busy week. From Tuesday to Thursday, I worked on a major food styling gig. I don’t usually accept large projects like this, but the in-house food stylist at a well-known grocery chain fell sick and I was offered a lot of money to take her place for a three-day shoot.
It’s hard to say no to that amount of money.
The emergency gig meant long twelve-hour days, but it also meant I was kept so busy I was too tired to dwell on Monday’s conversation with my grandmother.
But now, driving home in the silence with no Lisset to distract me, I can’t get Grandma’s words out of my head. She struck a nerve. Too scared to get on the rollercoaster . At school, I was voted the student most likely to break a bone in some daredevil stunt. I was the first of my friends to skydive. I bungee-jumped in New Zealand and Switzerland.
But I have a child now. I can’t go throwing myself out of airplanes or off bridges. It’s my duty as a mother to behave responsibly.
Acting on my attraction to Gideon wouldn’t be responsible. It would be selfish and stupid. And, truth be told, scary.
Too scared to get on the rollercoaster .
I shake my head, trying to shake away Grandma’s words. I haven’t seen or spoken to Gideon since Saturday’s dinner with Tess and Aaron. His Jeep has been in the driveway on and off, but we haven’t spoken. Aaron’s interrogation probably put Gideon off from pursuing anything with me. If that’s the case, it’s a good thing. I’m relieved. I am. The feeling is just temporarily buried under a layer of disappointment.
After the grueling last three days, I’ve taken today off. I need to clean my house and catch up on laundry. I also want to spend quality time with Lisset this afternoon. I haven’t seen much of her this week and I miss her. Thank goodness for Tess, who picked her up from aftercare, helped with her homework, and made her dinner.
I pull into my driveway and climb out of my car.
That’s when I see Gideon sitting in his usual spot on his front porch.
I freeze. I should go inside. My house is a mess. My laundry baskets are overflowing. I was hoping to take a nap to try to get rid of the mild fatigue headache that’s been plaguing me all morning.
Gideon Walker is not on my list for today.
But as I bring my hand up to shade my eyes against the glare of a spring sun, I feel the magnetic pull of his broad-shouldered body and warm hazel eyes. As much as I hate to admit it, I like the way those eyes look at me.
My stomach tightens in indecision, Grandma’s words circling me like a carousel horse.
You have control of that microphone in your head and you need to start telling yourself kinder things ... You say you want a life of stability, but deep down you’re a rollercoaster woman .
I glance at my front door. Then I look over at Gideon. I can feel him watching me.
Stuff it. I’m going to rollercoaster my way over there and talk to him.
“Crappy morning?” he asks as I flop down on the cushioned bench next to him.
“Crappy morning,” I confirm.
“Coffee?”
“You’re speaking my language. Yes, please.”
He smiles. “Drug of choice coming up.”
Uno is lying in his customary spot on his daybed. The moment Gideon leaves he tilts his head quizzically at me. I stare back at him. I’m not talking to a dog. Gideon, however, is taking his sweet time preparing my coffee and Uno’s brown eyes are becoming more reproachful by the second.
I can’t take it anymore. “Hello, Dog,” I say at last. Anything to obliterate that downcast expression. I clear my throat. “Thank you for letting Lisset read to you.” Her teacher said that with some gentle encouragement from Gideon, Lisset managed to read one page. It’s not much, but at least it’s a start.
Uno’s ears prick and his tail wags, then he rests his head on his paws, content.
“Picked up some of your Daddy’s tricks, huh?” I whisper.
Gideon returns with a steaming latte and a smile he should have no reason to wear.
Letting out a sigh, I wrap my hands around the mug and take a grateful sip. “Mmm, thank you.”
“Anything I can do to help?”
“Not really.”
“Want to talk about it?”
I kick off my shoes and fold my legs underneath me. I take another sip of my coffee, feeling the throbbing in my head ease. “It’s just...I dropped Lisset off at school and I couldn’t help thinking how fast she’s growing. And then I’m wondering whether I’m doing a good enough job with her. It feels as though I’m constantly second-guessing my decisions.”
When I realize I’m rambling, I wave a hand in the air, as though to wave away the last minute. “Sorry for going on and on. I don’t want to bore you.”
What single guy wants to hear about parenting issues? I might as well be talking about dental insurance. And then I think, wait a minute, this is my child . If I can’t talk freely about her with Gideon, then he’s not a person I want in my life. But hold on, what am I saying? Do I want Gideon in my life?
I close my eyes. Sometimes, the emotional mayhem in my head is too much, even for me.
“Hey, look at me,” he coaxes. “Kate, c’mon.”
I open my eyes and turn to stare at him. His brow is furrowed, like he’s not pleased with what I said. “Why would I be bored?”
“Most guys don’t want to hear about parenting stuff.”
My ex-husband wasn’t interested in the day-to-day details of Lisset’s life and he was her father .
“I’m not most guys,” Gideon says in an even voice. “I like Lisset. I like you , Kate.”
My pulse speeds up at the emphasis. I feel that fatal tug on my heart. My stupid, stupid heart that clearly hasn’t learned its lesson. One burning wasn’t enough, it seems. Now its amnesiac chambers are vibrating with excitement, clashing with my mind, which hasn’t forgotten what happened the last time I fell for a man.
“Lisset is important to you,” he continues. “I’m not bored when I listen to you talk about what’s important to you. I imagine it’s incredibly difficult not having a partner to share parenting responsibilities with.”
I chew my lip. “Some days it feels like it takes all my energy just to keep her alive.”
“My mom was a single mother,” Gideon admits, surprising me. Another tendril of connection coiling around the two of us. “I saw how tough it was for her and I’m guessing she shielded me from the worst of it. She often said being a single parent was like juggling flaming torches.”
“That’s an apt description.” I breathe in a lungful of crisp air. It’s not lost on me how easy it is to talk to him when it’s not been easy for me to talk to anyone for so long. “Are you close to your mom?”
“I was. She died three years ago. Cancer.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I still miss her.” He blinks and gulps down the last of his coffee as he tries to rein in his emotions. The urge to move closer and comfort him rushes through me. I tighten my grip on my mug.
“What about Lisset’s father?” he asks after a moment, changing the subject. “Is he still in the picture?”
And now he’s opened up a whole different conversation that I don’t care to have. But vulnerability still shrouds him and I don’t have it in me to shut him down.
“He’s not in the picture,” I reply.
“Does Lisset still see him?”
“No.”
“Do you still see him?”
“No.”
“You’re divorced?”
“Yes.” I know what he’s really trying to find out. “I changed our last name back to Miller after the divorce.”
He offers a thoughtful nod. “Ah, okay.”
I dig my nails into my palms. “I don’t like talking about my ex-husband.”
“I don’t want to waste any words on him either.” His voice has taken on an edge. “He sounds like a fool who didn’t appreciate what he had.”
I say quietly, “I’m the fool for staying as long as I did.”
“What counts is that you left.”
“I didn’t leave him,” I state flatly. “He left me. And Lisset.”
Surprise streaks across his face before he smooths out his expression. “I would be a hypocrite if I said I was sorry. I’m just glad you’re not with him anymore.”
Our eyes connect and the silence between us swells, taut and knowing. Something heated flares in his face.
“What did Aaron say to you?” I ask abruptly. “On Saturday night at the dinner, the two of you disappeared for a short time.”
“I don’t want to scare you.”
My eyes widen. “Seriously? Now you’re scaring me by not telling me.”
He grins. “He’s very protective of you.”
I let out a groan. “Oh, no, what did he say?”
“He threatened me with serious bodily harm if I hurt you in any way.”
My cheeks are burning. I press my palms against them, mortified. “I can’t believe he said that to you.”
“It’s okay. I wasn’t angry or offended. I like that he’s looking out for you.”
“What else did he say?”
“He asked me a question and I answered with the truth.”
“What was the question?”
His eyes linger on mine. “He asked me if I’m interested in you.”
My blush deepens and I lower my gaze to the wooden boards of his porch. How did the conversation veer so quickly in this direction? We took a turn somewhere along the way, only I wasn’t paying attention and now I don’t know where I am.
“Don’t you want to know what my answer was?”
“No,” I whisper.
“I said, ‘of course I’m interested.’ The truth is, I’ve been interested in you since the first time I saw you in the library.”
He’s finally said the quiet part out loud. My skin tingles at his words. It’s been so long since a man expressed interest in me. Granted, the death glares I give out probably scare most men off. Not Gideon, though.
“Too soon?” he asks, when the silences goes on too long.
Too everything . “You don’t know me.”
“I want to get to know you.”
I look at him. “You won’t particularly like me when you get to know me.”
“I doubt that.”
“My life is messy and complicated.”
“Maybe I like complicated.”
“No one likes complicated.”
His eyes fix on mine. “I’m not afraid of complicated.”
“Well, I’m not interested in you.”
He rolls his neck. And then he calls me out with one softly spoken word. “Liar.”
My cheeks flare up again. He’s noticed me watching him, tracking his movements, sneaking in the occasional admiring look at his body. Why am I surprised? Not much seems to get past Gideon. Fortunately, he can’t see the warfare currently being waged in my heart.
“Go on a date with me,” he says.
“No.”
He lets out a humorless laugh. “I thought that would be your answer.”
“Then why did you ask?”
“In the hope that one day you’ll say yes.”
“You’re going to be waiting a long time, Gideon Walker.”
“I’m a patient man, Kate Miller.”
“I told you I wanted to be friends.”
“I know what you told me,” he says slowly, almost drawling, “but I don’t believe you’re entirely clear on what you want.”
He says it with such cool confidence, my hackles rise. It doesn’t matter that he’s right. And how is it that this man can read me so easily? It’s frustrating. Annoying. Charming as heck. And completely terrifying.
“Just a heads up,” he says. “I’m going to keep asking you out.”
“You’re a glutton for punishment.”
“Or a sucker for you.”
His words send a small thrill through me. This man is slowly resurrecting pieces of my soul that have been dead for years.
“There’s something happening here, Kate.” He gestures back and forth between us. “It’s happening, whether you like it or not.”
“I’m not ready,” I tell him.
“I know,” he replies gently.
We sit in silence for a while.
I work up the courage to form my next words. “Gideon,” I whisper, feeling painfully vulnerable, “don’t stop asking me out.”
He holds my gaze. “I won’t,” he promises me. “I’ll keep asking. And one day you’ll say yes.”