Chapter 11 #2
Ash comes into the kitchen and leans against the counter while I mix the spaghetti, waiting for it to reheat.
“How was your day?” I ask. “Kids okay?”
“Lots of footie in the garden. Didn’t get round to the ironing. That’s on tomorrow’s list.”
I’m tempted to take it off his list. He’s already burnt a few items of my clothing by having the iron on the wrong setting, and I really had to deep breathe through those admissions.
They weren’t cheap mistakes, and after the second, rather large, incident, I told him if he wasn’t sure about the setting to wait until I got home and he could ask. Or he could always text me at work.
“Maybe we should send some of my clothes to the cleaners in town, and we can organize activities for you to do with the kids away from here.”
“Oh,” he says, and he seems surprised. “Right. Yeah.”
“Does England do parent and tot classes or indoor playgrounds or anything like that? It’s May, and the weather is starting to warm up. Maybe swimming lessons? I’m happy to pay for Chloe too.”
Ash has his phone out, and he’s already searching for things while I dump my spaghetti into a bowl and take it to the table.
He follows me with a furrowed brow, and for some reason, my stupid traitorous heart thumps extra loud when he glances up to meet my gaze.
He has such soulful brown eyes, the kind where you can read a million thoughts in them in a single glance.
The attraction I’d hoped would dim the longer I was around him hasn’t eased at all.
The only good news is that it hasn’t expanded to encompass all aspects of my life either.
When I’m not around Ash, I can put him out of my head.
But as soon as I’m in the house again, my body switches to high alert.
Somewhere inside me is an Ash radar, and it’s constantly homing on him the minute I’m on the property.
“There’s a soft play in Bedford,” Ash says. “I reckon that’s what you’d call an indoor playground. There’s a pool not far from here at the leisure center. They’ve got a parent and tot swim scheduled for the mornings. Do you think I could handle both kids in a pool?”
“Joey has armbands, and he’s a pretty confident swimmer. You’d have to keep a close eye on him, but you wouldn’t have to hold both.”
“Might leave that one until the weekend, if you don’t mind coming with us the first time.” He’s clearly biting the inside of his cheek as he pours over the search results. “I’m not much of a swimmer.”
“Whatever makes you more comfortable,” I say as I take a mouthful of the spaghetti. The ideas of seeing Ash bare chested and me having to wear my own bathing suit into the pool are a tad terrifying, but Joey loves swimming. My discomfort is temporary.
“There are parks and some other places I can take them.” He shakes his head.
“Sorry I didn’t think of any of this. When it was just me and Chloe, it was enough to keep my head above water.
Suppose I should be thinking bigger picture now.
” He scans my face for a beat, and even though I should be eating, I can’t look away.
“I really appreciate how straightforward you are. Never have to wonder if I’m hitting the mark. ”
Is it weird that his comment might be one of the nicest I’ve ever received?
Most people aren’t like him—they’d take all these conversations we’ve had over the last five weeks and be offended.
Gwen tells me all the time that the bar is too high, and that’s my problem with relationships.
I’ve wondered a few times if that might be the issue with my team at work too.
Maybe I am asking too much, even if I really don’t think I am.
“If you’re like this at work,” Ash continues, “straight to the point without being an arse, then Jack is most definitely the problem.”
“Maybe I’m like this?” I shrug and weave my fork through the spaghetti.
“Do you want me to be your enforcer? I’ll come into your work and stand behind your desk. Then I’ll pound my fist into my palm and glare at him.” He makes the motion with his hand.
“Tempting,” I say with a hint of a smile. “You might be undermined by the two small children strapped to you.”
“Nonsense. We’ll give ’em a bat each.” He grins, and those dimples rise to the surface causing heat to pool between my thighs.
For the millionth time, I curse my fate that I hired a hot nanny by accident who also happens to have a personality to match. I’m doomed. So, so doomed.
“Sounds adorable and—again—like something that’ll land me in HR instead.” I twirl the last of my spaghetti around my fork.
“The offer’s there. Me and the tiny tots as your enforcers. No one messes with Paige Johnston and gets away with it while we’re around.”
His words, and the kind expression on his face, inspire a rush of warmth across my middle that quickly migrates lower.
Doomed. I am completely doomed.
We arrive at the parent and tot swim on Saturday about five minutes before it officially starts, and we stand outside the bathrooms for a moment, staring at the signs.
We can either branch off into men and women or venture into the genderless family suite.
At home, I go into the women’s area without question.
The few times I tried the family area, I found the array of two-parent units vaguely depressing.
“Family?” Ash asks, glancing at me. “Keep us all together?”
“Sure.”
My heart kicks even though it’s ridiculous.
We’re not a family, and we will never be, but as I walk in and see other couples with their kids, I can’t help feeling a swell of triumph.
To them, I appear just the same. To top it off, my pretend partner happens to be very, very attractive.
The looks of envy from the other men and women in the locker room are something I’ll pocket for the long years to come on my own.
For now, I’ve got him—even if our situation is nothing like they may perceive it.
When I catch one woman staring openly, I suppress my grin. Yes, he is hot, and he is very good with children. An impossible and improbable combination, and somehow, I’ve scored it—in a nanny.
For the thousandth time, it’s inconceivable that Chloe’s mother is not in the picture.
Ash takes Chloe into one of the smaller change cubicles, and when Joey tries to go with him, I have to pick him up and carry him into a separate one with me.
Ash is waiting outside with Chloe by the time I wrangle Joey into his swim shorts and armbands.
I’m so distracted by Joey that I almost forget to be nervous about Ash seeing me in a bathing suit.
Then I step out of the cubicle with Joey’s fingers clasped in one hand and our towels under my arm, and Ash turns to look at us.
His expression is impossible to read, but his gaze travels the length of me before reaching my eyes again.
“All set?” he asks.
“Yeah,” I say, and I sound breathless to my ears.
Ash Galvin shirtless should not inspire this fluttery feeling low in my belly. It’s a naked chest. They’re all over TV and magazines, and I could do a search on my phone right now and see millions of them. But it’s the combination of how he looks and who he is that is lethal to my senses.
When we exit the changeroom, there’s a blast of warm, chlorine air, and we make our way to the smaller pool toward the rear of the deck that has a wide ramp and several families already playing in the jet sprays and bouncing around in the water.
I try not to think about how many babies and children have likely peed or who knows what else in there.
That’s why the chlorine is there—for all those little messes.
Still, the thought always causes a moment of hesitation before I slide my foot into the warm water and follow Ash down the ramp.
He’s got no hesitation, and as such, Joey has left my side to take Ash’s free hand.
Ash glances at me over his shoulder. “It’s actually quite warm.”
Don’t think of the pee. Don’t imagine the pee. Don’t mention the pee.
“Yes.” I plaster a fake smile on my face, hoping it looks less strained than it feels.
The truth is that the nanny or my sister often took Joey to the pool. Being in a bathing suit in a communal cesspool is not my idea of fun. The few times I have been, though, it’s been clear how much Joey loves it. There’s nothing I won’t live through if it makes my boy smile.
“Mommy, watch!” Joey says before he climbs to the top of a set of stairs and jumps off, submerging himself before popping up to the surface with the help of his armbands.
Chloe laughs and claps, and she makes the sign for more. Within the last few weeks, Joey has gone from being completely annoyed by Chloe to delighting in her attention.
“Again?” Joey asks her slyly. “Joey, again?”
She keeps doing the more sign over and over while Joey climbs the stairs again.
This time when he jumps in, some of the water splashes Chloe’s face, and she sputters, flailing around before Ash runs his big hand down her face, clearing the drops.
She gazes up at her dad for a beat, seemingly unsure, and when he grins, her toothy grin follows.
“Has she been swimming before?” I ask.
Joey goes up the stairs and jumps off over and over. Thankfully, the pool isn’t too crowded, and the fact that we’ve claimed a section of the wide stairs doesn’t seem to bother anyone.
“No,” Ash says. “We haven’t gotten up to much. Chloe was a bit too little. Then, no time or no money.”
After I suggested a variety of activities this past week, every night when I came home either Joey or Ash would regale me with tales of their adventures.
The house is an absolute mess, which I intend to rectify tomorrow when Ash is at football, but they had such a fun week that I would have felt like a complete jerk for complaining.