Chapter 14
FOURTEEN
RIDGE
I ’m in a panic. That’s the only way I can really describe it. It’s Thursday. Tomorrow, I’m scheduled to leave for a tattoo convention, which means Lou was supposed to go with Alma and George tonight. And I told Darcy she didn’t need to come over tomorrow.
Ten minutes ago, at exactly 4:37, Alma texted me. She’d normally call but the first thing she said was that she’d lost her voice. Her and George have caught some bug. Their throats are sore, voices nearly gone; they have fevers and chills. Basically, a shit sandwich. I feel terrible for them.
But I also feel terrible for me, because they were my guaranteed weekend childcare for conventions this summer. Which leaves me very fucking short on options for tomorrow.
If I bail, the guys would understand. They probably wouldn’t even sweat it. But I would feel bad. I’m supposed to be a leader. I don’t want to leave my team to fend for themselves when I’m the one with all the information for registration and accommodations.
“You know what you have to do,” Waylon says from the door.
It’s not a question—more a statement. A moment ago, I’d yelled the word “fuck” very loudly when reading Alma’s texts. He appeared at the doorway a second after, and I told him what was wrong. And that’s when I panicked.
“That makes one of us,” I say, racking my brain for a solution.
“You have a nanny now,” he says. “Ask her.”
I hope the stern expression I send his way is an indicator of how much I will not be doing that. “I told her she wouldn’t work weekends. Plus, there’s a big difference in Lou for business hours and Lou for a whole weekend. That’s beyond childcare.”
Waylon scratches at the stubble over his jaw with catlike laziness. I’m surprised I don’t catch him licking himself most days.
“Bring them with us,” he says.
“Who?”
“Darcy and Lou. Bring them with us. Darcy can watch her during the day, and in the evenings, you’ll be freed up to do dad stuff.”
“I can’t ask Darcy to do that, to give up her whole weekend like that.”
“She can have evenings free. Let her go out exploring or whatever,” he says.
I hate the idea of that. All I would do is worry about her being in an unfamiliar area and getting into trouble. But it’s not like I can stop her. Maybe I can convince her to hang around the hotel. There’s a pool and other recreational areas.
“I can ask her,” I say with a huff. “But she might say no.”
“Nah, she’ll do it,” he says confidently. A little too confidently.
“What makes you so sure?”
Waylon folds his arms over his chest, leaning against the wall. His face is a stupid kind of smug.
“Based on everything you told me,” he says. “She cleans even though you told her it’s not in her job description. She bakes cookies like, every week. You literally have a morning routine together. Trust me, she’s going.”
I don’t really have a rebuttal, so I just press my mouth into a stern line and do my best to scowl at him. He lets out a hearty laugh and turns away before walking back to his booth all casual-like.
So I’ll ask her. Beg is probably a more appropriate term for what I’m going to have to do. But that’s fine, too. I did it to hire her, and I’ll do it again.
It’s really weird to walk into your own home with anxious energy and apprehension. I don’t have a backup plan. I don’t have another option whatsoever. Staying home will be the only course of action possible, and I really don’t want that to be the case.
Pushing the door open, I hear Lou’s laughter accompanied by a little giggle from Darcy.
“Hi, Daddy,” Lou says, running toward me.
“Hey, pumpkin. Did you have a good day?”
“Yeah, Darcy showed me how to make my own ice cream!” she exclaims.
“It was a science experiment,” Darcy says. “That results in ice cream.”
“I think I remember doing that in school,” I tell her. “Maybe eighth grade.”
“That was a long time ago, right?” Lou asks.
Way to call me out. “Yes, it was. Roughly twenty years ago.”
“I didn’t even know they had ice cream back then in the old days,” Lou says.
This kid. I swear. “Lou, do you think you could maybe go play in your room for a few minutes? I need to have a grown-up talk with Darcy.”
Reluctantly, she nods and mopes down the hallway, looking back every couple of feet like I might change my mind if she looks sad enough. Which I’m not.
“Please, come sit,” I say, gesturing to the couch.
She makes her way over quickly, then takes a seat and looks at me expectantly. She’s got a nervous energy about her, eyes cracked wide open.
“Is this about the night we haven’t spoken about? Because when I came back Monday, I sort of thought you might mention it, but then you didn’t, so I didn’t. And then the week passed and a new one started, and I thought maybe you didn’t want to talk about it. But if you’re going to fire me, I just want to say that I’m still very sorry.” She says it all in one very big breath.
“What? God, no,” I say, and I laugh a little. “I didn’t talk about it, because there was nothing more to talk about and it didn’t matter.”
“I thought maybe it changed your trust in me or you thought I was a bad influence for Lou or?—”
“Darcy,” I say, putting up a hand between us. “I’m going to stop you right there and ask that you take a deep breath.” I pause, waiting for her to actually inhale and exhale. “Now, I don’t know why you’d have any of that in your head. None of that is close to the truth. I know how anxiety works, so I’m being very direct.” I shift forward, making sure she keeps eye contact with me. “You were in trouble and asked for help. That only makes me trust you more. You did the right thing. You were manipulated by your ex, who, quite frankly, sounds like an absolute prick. Not your fault. And I can’t think of a single person who is a better influence for Lou. You’re fantastic with her.”
Darcy doesn’t say anything right away, but I can see the tears pricking her eyes and how she’s fighting desperately to hold them back.
“Which is why… I need your help,” I say with a laugh.
She clears her throat, adjusting a bit. “What do you need?”
“Lou’s grandparents are sick. As you know, she was supposed to go with them tonight, and I’m supposed to be off to a convention tomorrow.”
“Oh no, are they okay?”
“They will be,” I say. And this is a thing I love about her. She’s asking not out of social politeness but genuine care and concern. She’s done it a few times in the past weeks, and it’s been so refreshing.
“Do you need me to watch Lou?” she asks.
“Um, well, yes,” I say. “I was actually hoping you would come with us to the convention. I don’t want you tied up with her twenty four-seven, so in the evenings, after my stuff is over, I can still take over or whatever.”
“Okay,” she says. “I can do that.”
“Oh, really? I mean, I will get you your own hotel room, of course, and add bonus money to your check for this week. Plus, you can go exploring, and I’ll give you and Lou spending money.”
“Yeah, I can do it,” she says. “It’s no problem. We leave in the morning? Should I come here?”
“That easily, huh? Seriously? Because I was prepared to beg and continue to add more incentives.” I smile at her in a way I probably shouldn’t.
Darcy laughs. “Well, if you want to beg, I won’t stop you.”
She gestures to the ground in front of her as if to indicate I should kneel if I’m going to. And let me goddamn tell you something right now. If I ever got down on my knees in front of this woman, it would be for one reason and one reason only. And she would be the one who was begging.
I look away, suddenly sure she can see into my mind and knows all the dirty things I’m thinking right now. I clear my throat more loudly than I need to. “Anyway, Lou and I can pick you up from your house in the morning, if you want? I’m already asking so much. I refuse to make you drive over here, too.”
“Oh, okay, that works for me. I’ll pack tonight.”
“And you’re sure this isn’t a problem? I don’t want to uproot you from your life, or if you have plans or something, I can?—”
“I promise, it’s fine,” she says. “Honestly, I could use a few days away. Wait, where is it?”
“It’s in Atlanta.”
Darcy looks like she’s doing math in her head, and I’m guessing she’s trying to calculate the drive.
“Only about four hours,” I say, hoping to answer her unspoken next question.
She nods, seemingly satisfied with that. “Not too bad.”
“We’re leaving pretty early to get there in plenty of time before an evening event, which you guys can actually attend if you want. It’s like an opening ceremony type of thing. It’s pretty cool.”
“That sounds fun,” she says. “Just text me the details and what time to be ready and all that, and I’ll see you in the morning.”
She stands and I follow her lead, walking to the front door with her.
“I really don’t think you know what this means to me,” I say, exhaling possibly the first sigh of relief. “I could hug you.”
“Okay,” she says, turning toward me with her arms open.
Oh. Um. I hesitate. I was saying it more as a figure of speech. You know, just one of those things you say to show your appreciation. I didn’t actually expect her to accept a real hug. Still, I can’t help myself.
I lean in and wrap my arms around her, careful not to grip too low. Her hands land on my back as my senses are overrun with her sweet scent. Her head rests against my shoulder as I dip down and squeeze her tight, savoring this tiny little moment the universe saw fit to gift me. I can’t imagine there are many moments when this would be appropriate in the future, so I’ll take advantage of this one.
After a few moments, I release her and we say our goodbyes. She leaves, reminding me one last time to text her the details for the morning.
The door closes behind her, and I place my hand against it, my forehead following. I inhale slowly, the remnants of her scent still lingering.
Mentally, I kick myself. Because that right there is a damn fine woman. And I can’t have her.