Chapter 5
CHAPTER FIVE
EVA
The scent of sausage links and syrup greeted me when I emerged from the bedroom.
I tiptoed down the hallway, hovering at its mouth, and watched as Tobias moved around his kitchen.
The smell held a memory that transported me straight into the past.
I was eighteen again, walking in a cafeteria with a blue plastic tray in my hands. Surrounded by a mass of other freshmen at Montana State all craving breakfast on a Saturday to chase away their Friday-night hangovers, I met the boy who’d won my heart.
All because of pancake syrup.
Tobias was no longer that boy. I was no longer that girl. But it was still impossible to tear my eyes away.
He shut off the stove, taking his spatula and lifting out the sausage to his plate. His broad shoulders were covered in a long-sleeved thermal, the red color making his hair look darker. I’d always liked it when he wore red, though not as much as blue, which brought out his eyes .
I kept my breaths short and low, not wanting him to catch me spying. A yawn tugged at my mouth but I kept my teeth clamped. Sleep had been elusive last night. Even on one of the most comfortable beds I’d slept on in years, I hadn’t been able to shut off my brain.
Instead, I’d replayed that kiss.
That desperate, reckless, incredible kiss.
Staying here under his roof was probably a huge mistake. Temptation was going to run rampant. But at least it was just for a week.
Tobias pulled out a bottle of Log Cabin, squeezing a puddle next to his links.
“Still forgetting your pancakes with that syrup,” I said, pushing off the wall.
He chuckled, glancing over his shoulder. “I made scrambled eggs. There’s a brand-new bottle of ketchup in the fridge so you can ruin them.”
I smiled and strode into the kitchen, taking a seat at the island.
He came and sat down, not at the stool beside mine, but one apart. He kept that boundary, then cut a piece of sausage and swirled it in syrup.
“Whenever I smell syrup, I think of the day we met,” I said.
“The day you called me a monster.” There was a smirk on his mouth as he chewed.
“Hey, the truth hurts, baby.”
I’d come into the cafeteria, still in the sweatpants I’d worn to bed the previous night. My hair had been a wreck. Not a smidge of makeup had been left on my face except for the mascara smudges under my eyes. It had been the second month of freshman year and the first time I’d ever dared leave my dorm room not looking perfect.
But my hangover had been punishing. I’d been desperate for fluffy carbs to cure my headache. I’d heaped a pile of pancakes on my plate, but when I’d gone to smother them with syrup, Tobias had been at the dispenser, pumping the last few drops onto his sausage links.
“You made up a song,” he said, forking another bite. “Remember it?”
I’d made up a bunch of stupid songs over the years, taking popular songs and replacing their lyrics with my own nonsense. Most of them I forgot the moment I was done with my rendition. But that one I remembered.
“Hello, can you hear me?” I sung, crooning Adele’s song. “I’m in the cafeteria, dreaming about maple syrup and whipped cream.”
Tobias shook his head, a smile on his perfect mouth. “Whenever the real song comes on the radio, I laugh.”
“Me too,” I lied.
The truth was, that song usually made me sad. Because that song was Tobias’s song. There I’d been, hungover and smelly and distraught over my lack of syrup, and Tobias had righted my day. He’d stolen the tray from my hands, taken it to a nearby table and spooned syrup onto my pancakes.
When he’d returned me my tray, I’d let out a pitiful whimper, then told him I loved him.
He’d sat beside me during that breakfast, and after I’d inhaled my pancakes, he’d asked me on a date.
That same night, he’d picked me up from my dorm room. Dinner. Movie. A typical date for two college kids. Then he’d walked me to my door and kissed me good night.
But nothing about that kiss had been typical. Because after that date, we hadn’t spent a day apart. Not until the breakup.
We’d been inseparable. Insatiable.
In love.
We’d tackled life together .
Until . . . we hadn’t.
“Help yourself.” Tobias nodded toward the stove. “Unless you’re not feeling well.”
“No, I’m okay. No morning sickness so far.” I slid from my stool and picked up the empty plate he’d left for me. Then I scooped eggs and sausage onto my plate, stopping at the fridge for ketchup before resuming my seat.
We ate in silence.
We did not mention last night’s kiss.
I could still feel his tongue against mine, insistent and firm. That man craved control in every way but especially in the bedroom. When the lights were off and our clothes on the floor, he’d always been the one in charge. He’d never disappointed.
Tobias was better than a vibrator with fresh batteries.
At eighteen, as an unsure girl with zero experience except for a few awkward make-out sessions my senior year in high school, Tobias had been a dream. He’d made me feel wanted. He’d taught me about my body and its desires. He’d given me the freedom to let my inhibitions go and simply feel.
We’d been together countless times, each better than the last. Tobias always seemed to learn new tricks.
Like last night’s kiss. He’d fluttered his tongue against mine and I’d nearly come undone.
Maybe it was just the hormones. Maybe it was because it had been a while since I’d had an orgasm—the last courtesy of Tobias. He’d been my one and only.
I refused to think that another woman had taught him that tongue flutter.
Jealousy snaked up my spine as I squirted ketchup on my plate. Irrational, green jealousy.
It had been my choice to walk away. I couldn’t exactly fault him for moving on. Still... it soured the food on my tongue.
“Is it okay?” he asked .
“Great.” I took another bite.
Compartmentalization had become a welcome companion so I shoved away the idea of another woman in Tobias’s bed.
This wasn’t the time for jealousy. This was the time for eating.
I forked a bite of eggs and dunked it in ketchup. “This is delicious.”
“Are you working today?” he asked, taking his plate to the sink while I devoured my meal.
“A little. I’ll probably set up camp right here if you don’t mind.”
“Go for it.”
“And you? Are you going into town?” Say yes.
“Yes.”
I tried not to let my shoulders sag in relief.
If he stayed here, I wasn’t sure what would happen. That stool between us would only stay empty for so long before one of us caved. He was just too... easy. Too mouthwatering.
“Our office is closed this week,” he said. “But I’ve got more work than I can keep up with so I’ll probably head in for a while. Give you some space.”
Give us some space.
“Okay.” I stood and took my empty plate to the kitchen, careful not to get too close as I rinsed it at the sink and put it in the dishwasher.
“Make yourself at home,” he said, then plucked a small black remote from a drawer beside the fridge. “Here’s a spare garage remote so you can come and go as you need.”
“Thank you.” I took it, then took one step away.
He did the same, rubbing a hand over his beard. “About last night. Sorry.”
“It was just a kiss, Tobias. It’s not like we haven’t kissed before, right? ”
“Yeah.” His eyes locked with mine, his expression unreadable. Before I could make any sense of it, he strode from the room. Then the garage door opened and he was gone.
Why had he kissed me? Why did it look like he regretted it?
“Ugh.” I wrapped my arms around my waist as my stomach twisted.
Maybe it was the hormones, maybe it was the stress of the unknown, maybe it was my ketchup, but I rushed to the bathroom as the wave of nausea crashed into me like a tsunami.
“So much for my eggs,” I groaned as I emerged from a solid thirty minutes of hugging the toilet.
I swiped my phone from the nightstand and retreated to the living room couch, lying on my back as I scrolled through emails. I was typing out a reply to my boss when it rang. My mother’s name flashed across the screen.
“Hi, Mom,” I answered, forcing cheer into my voice.
“Hi, Eva.” There was a bustle of noise behind her and a woman speaking over an intercom. It was the typical soundtrack to Mom’s calls.
“Where are you?”
“Atlanta, for about an hour. Then PDX.” Portland .
Before I was in third grade, I’d been able to name every major city and its three-letter airport abbreviation. We’d had a map at home, and after every one of Mom’s calls, I’d run to pinpoint where she was and where she was going, drawing imaginary lines between imaginary places.
Many of those cities weren’t so imaginary now.
Mom was living in Miami. At least, she had been the last time we’d spoken. That had been four months ago on my birthday. She’d missed her regular Christmas call this week.
“I’m coming to Bozeman tomorrow. I just talked to Elena and she said you were there until after New Year’s.”
Shit. Thanks, Elena. “Um . . . yeah. ”
“We’re all having dinner tomorrow.” Not a question or an invitation, just a declaration.
“Okay.” I’d planned to see Dad but I guess I’d go to his apartment for lunch instead.
“See you then.” She hung up before I could say goodbye.
My stomach roiled again and I studied the ceiling until the sickness passed. Leave it to Tobias to have a tongue-and-groove painted ceiling, a shade lighter than the walls. No simple white ceilings here.
My phone rang again and I pressed it to my ear, already knowing it was Elena. “Yes, she called me. Yes, I’ll be over for dinner.”
“Good.” She sighed. “You have to be the buffer.”
“’Kay.” I’d been the buffer between Elena and Mom my entire life. “Want me to bring anything?”
“Wine.”
Wine I wouldn’t be drinking. “You got it. Anything else?”
“No. Can you believe she just calls and expects us to drop everything to accommodate her schedule?”
“That’s Mom.” It didn’t annoy me like it annoyed Elena.
“I’m not telling Dad she’s here.”
“Fine by me.” It would only upset him and Mom would be gone on the next flight out.
It was rare that she came to Montana. It was even rarer that she’d stay longer than twenty-four hours.
Mom was a pilot for a commercial airline. She’d earned her wings and nothing would keep her from the sky, not even a husband and two little girls. My entire life she’d traveled, leaving Dad to care for Elena and me.
The times when Mom took a vacation and would be home for an extended period were usually the nights when I’d wake to hear my parents fighting. It was her absence that had made their marriage last as long as it had.
If you could even call it a marriage. They’d made their divorce official after I’d graduated from high school, but they’d written off each other years before the papers had been signed.
Elena harbored a lot of bitterness toward Mom, mostly on Dad’s behalf. He’d been a married, single parent. He’d shouldered all the laundry after a ten-hour workday. He’d cooked the meals and packed the lunches. He’d painted our nails and plaited braids into our hair.
Dad had been both father and mother.
Elena had wanted an actual mother, not because he’d failed in any way, but because girls needed moms.
Maybe the reason it hadn’t bothered me the way it had her was because I’d known that Mom would have paled in comparison to Dad. He’d made up for her shortcomings ten times over.
And we’d been better, just the three of us.
My hand splayed across my flat belly. “We’ll figure this out, won’t we?”
There wasn’t another choice. When I looked to my parents, the one I aspired to imitate was not my mother.
But her income had meant a mortgage-free home. It had meant college tuitions. On some of her longer stays, after the first day or two of awkwardness, we’d settle into a new routine. Mom would take us shopping and out to a girls’ only lunch.
She hadn’t been a bad parent. Just... absent.
Elena wanted her to change, something that would never happen. Part of the reason I suspected Elena didn’t work was because she was so worried about showing any resemblance to Mom.
Elena’s daughters would always have a parent at home. They’d have a mother dedicated to each and every aspect of their lives. Mom might be a pilot, but Elena would be the helicopter mother, hovering over the girls until they finally left home.
There had to be a middle ground. I could find a balance, right? Granted, I had no husband to help. That would make it more difficult. But in my heart of hearts, I knew I could find the middle ground. I could be successful like Mom in my career. I could be the mother this baby deserved.
The logistics of that eluded me at the moment, but there was time to plan this out. For now, I’d finish out my week.
I’d be the buffer , the peacekeeper, at dinner tomorrow, ensuring Mom and Elena didn’t get into an argument. I’d fill the conversation with questions about Mom’s recent trips and what her schedule looked like through winter.
Mom had failed at balancing a career and family. But both were attainable, weren’t they? I could be a mother and have a career, succeeding at both, right?
Right . I closed my eyes, drawing in a few long, deep breaths.
A hand touched my shoulder and I jumped, nearly falling off the couch. I would have crashed into the floor if not for Tobias standing above me, catching me before I rolled.
“Oh my God. You scared me.” I slapped a hand to my racing heart. “I thought you left.”
“I did.” He glanced at the wall clock. “Three hours ago.”
“What?” I shoved up and looked around the room for a clock. Sure enough, the wall clock confirmed his story. Three hours had evaporated while I’d been sleeping on the couch. “Damn. I didn’t even realize I’d fallen asleep. I guess I won’t be working this morning.”
Or this afternoon. My stomach twisted and I curled onto my side. There wasn’t much to do, but I’d send my boss an email when I didn’t feel like hurling.
“You okay?” Tobias asked.
“I think I jinxed myself saying I didn’t get morning sickness. ”
A frown marred his handsome face as he stood and walked out of the living room, coming back moments later with a glass of water. He set it on the coffee table and moved to the end of the couch. “Lift up.”
I raised my legs just enough for him to sit, then he positioned my calves on his lap and began massaging my foot. One touch and my eyes drifted closed, the nausea easing. Tobias’s touch was magic.
“I forgot how good you are at that.” I hummed.
His long fingers dug into my arch, pressing away the tension in my body. “Drink that water.”
I stretched to lift it from the coaster, then sipped it slowly before setting it aside and closing my eyes again, relaxing into his touch. “How was work?”
“Fine. Quiet. I was the only one there.”
“What are you working on?”
“I’m designing a house for a couple from St. Louis. They’re moving to Bozeman in a year. Pretty standard floor plan except they want a bunker.”
I cracked an eye. “A bunker? For what?”
“Doomsday preppers, I think. They didn’t explain much, just asked for a twenty-by-twenty bunker.”
“Ah.” I snuggled deeper into the couch, letting his deep baritone wrap around me like a blanket. “What would you put in a twenty-by-twenty bunker?”
“Food. Water. My hunting rifle. Tools. Toilet paper.”
“Tobias Practical Holiday.”
He chuckled. “And what would you want in your twenty-by-twenty bunker?”
“Wine. Chocolate. Books.” You .
If the world was ending, I’d want to be with Tobias. I’d want his arms around me through the scary nights. I’d want his strength to lean on when I felt like collapsing. I’d want his smile to brighten the dark days.
“My mom is coming to town,” I said. “She called after you left.”
“When?”
“Tomorrow. We’re having dinner at Elena’s. I get to be the buffer.”
“Want me to tag along? Be your buffer?”
“No, that’s okay.” As tempting as it was, it would only lead to questions, mostly from Elena.
Mom had only met him once. While I’d been in college, her visits to Montana had been infrequent, at best. After the divorce, Mom and Dad hadn’t needed to pretend anymore. And I think Mom knew we’d picked Dad’s side so she’d stayed away, giving us all space.
But if I showed at dinner with Tobias, Elena would get her hopes up. She’d been on his wavelength, assuming we’d get married after college.
I hadn’t told her that he’d proposed. I hadn’t told anyone. Did he think about that night? Did he regret proposing? Did he feel like he’d dodged a bullet?
My stomach churned again. Thinking about the ring he’d bought me, the diamond on someone else’s finger now, always made me queasy. “Tell me more about your projects. Keep my mind off my tummy.”
“Today I was doing some drafting for Maddox’s place. He’s building a big place out of town. It’ll be fun to spend his money.”
I laughed. “What are you thinking?”
Tobias shifted, taking my other foot in his hand, and as his fingers moved over my skin, he told me about his ideas for his brother’s house. From the layout to the design elements to the state-of-the-art features that would make the home a masterpiece. A theater. A pool. A guesthouse. Everything would be custom.
Excitement radiated off Tobias as he spoke. His energy was contagious, and I turned to see his face. Here was a man who genuinely loved his job. He loved his family.
“It all sounds amazing.” Maybe I’d even get the chance to see it.
“I, um... when Maddox came into the office yesterday, I told him. About the baby.”
“Oh.” I wrapped my arms around my stomach. It was only a matter of time. People would need to know. I guess I hadn’t planned on telling anyone until I had a better idea of what was happening.
“I can ask him to keep it quiet.”
“It’s okay.” I lifted a shoulder. “It’s not going to be a secret for long.”
“Will you tell your parents or Elena?”
Dad would be thrilled. Elena would immediately start planning a baby shower. And they’d both expect me to stay.
“Probably not this trip. I’ll call and tell them once I get settled in London.”
Tobias’s hands stopped moving. He stared at me with that same unreadable expression from this morning.
“What?” I whispered.
“Nothing.” He slid out from beneath my legs and nodded to the water. “I’ll be in the office down the hallway if you need anything.”
I blinked and he was gone, leaving me alone. A chill settled in my bones, left by the man striding down the hallway. What was I supposed to say? I had to move. My job started next week. I had responsibilities and I’d made commitments.
He might have been comfortable sharing right away, but I was still trying to wrap my head around impending motherhood.
I pushed up and stood, ready to retreat to my bedroom and crack open my laptop. But the moment I was on my feet, another wave of nausea hit, and instead of walking, I ran to my bathroom, making it just in time to puke up the remnants of my breakfast and water. I’d thought after round one there hadn’t been anything left.
Was this morning sickness? Or anxiety? It wouldn’t be the first time I’d worked myself into an emotional mess. My first weeks in New York had been spent in a constant state of ick.
Headaches. Insomnia. Dizziness. Every day had been a struggle. Every day I’d wanted to quit. It was sheer stubbornness I’d gutted it out. I’d missed Tobias and home so much it had been crippling, but I’d kept pushing. Kept going. One day at a time until the heartache had eased. Until the tears had stopped.
I’d survived New York. I’d get through this too.
“Hey.” Tobias appeared in the doorway, my water glass in his hand.
“Hi,” I muttered.
He set my glass aside, then pulled a washcloth from a drawer, soaking it in warm water in the sink.
“Thanks.” I took it from him, expecting him to leave me to my misery. But he walked closer, taking up a seat behind me. Then those wondrous hands began rubbing circles along my spine.
Sooner than later, I’d have to learn to deal with this and all the other pregnancy woes alone. But I loved his touch too much to kick him out. So I hugged the toilet, dry-heaving twice while Tobias held my hair, until finally, my stomach was empty and stopped swirling .
“I’ll give you a minute.” Tobias stood, easing the door shut behind him.
I washed my face and brushed my teeth, and when I emerged into the kitchen, Tobias had pulled out a box of saltine crackers. “These are for me?”
“I’ll run into town and get some ginger ale. Anything else sound good?”
“Apple sauce.”
“’Kay. Be back.”
“Tobias?” I called as he walked toward the hall.
He stopped and turned. “Yeah?”
“You’re going to be a good dad.”
He gave me a sad smile, then he disappeared into the garage. His silence rang in the house. I’d expected a thank you . Or an I hope so . Maybe what I’d really wanted was for him to tell me I’d be a good mom.
But I’d learned a long time ago, Tobias didn’t always tell me what I’d wanted to hear.
I guess that hadn’t changed.