11. Chapter 10
Chapter 10
Jemima
Molly’s eyes widen in disbelief, covering her mouth with her hand when I tell her what happened with Harvey. “You didn’t,” she says, her voice muffled by her palm. The boys are busy in the other room playing at her place, so they can’t hear our conversation.
With a slight chuckle, I raise my teacup to my lips and take a sip before responding. “Embarrassing,” I admit, shaking my head. My fingers twitch as I remember how hard and big he was.
Leaning forward, Molly’s curiosity gets the best of her. “So, how did you get home?”
I close my eyes momentarily, feeling a wave of awkwardness wash over me. “He dropped me off,” I confess, my voice trailing off.
Clearly amused, Molly lets out a low whistle. “Now that’s a story,” she remarks, eyes sparkling.
I feel my cheeks heat as I cover my eyes with my hands. “Right, it’s humiliating,” I mutter as a pang of self-consciousness washes over me.
“Did he seem bothered?” Molly asks, her expression filled with concern.
I drop my hands from my face, memories of the morning flooding my mind. “Not at all, which is the problem.”
“He’s young and hot. I can’t blame him for trying.” She offers a sympathetic shrug.
“I have a kid, and I’m not interested in dating. I can’t trust anyone right now.” A hint of vulnerability creeps into my voice.
As Molly stands to take her cup to the sink, she calls over her shoulder. “One day you’ll change your mind.”
I doubt that.
I offer her a weak smile in response.
“You’re one to talk?” I quirk an eyebrow at her, attempting to change the topic to her.
“Well, at least I’m on the dating apps,” Molly replies with a chuckle, pointing to her phone.
The thought of being online is my own version of hell.
“How is that going?” I ask, picking up my cup and taking a sip of my tea. Happy to shift the conversation to her.
After she finishes washing her cup, she sits back down at the dining table opposite me.
“I’m sorting through the crap ones,” she replies with a wry smile, her eyes twinkling mischievously.
“How bad are they?” I ask, genuinely curious about her experiences.
“You have no idea.” Her laughter fills the room.
Call me curious or naive, but I need to see what she’s talking about, but there’s no way I’ll be setting up my own profile just to find out. “Show me,” I urge.
She swipes open her phone and passes it to me, and I can’t help but to lean in to read the message bubble that sits on the screen.
Remember me? Oh, that's right I’ve only met you in my dreams.
I lift my eyes to her gaze.
“So cheesy,” I reply with a soft chuckle, handing the phone back to her.
“There’s more. Let me show you the one I got last night.” Molly eagerly scrolls through her messages to find the one she’s referring to.
When she turns the phone screen to me, I read the message out loud.
Is your name Google? Because you've got everything I’ve been searching for.
I scrunch my face in disbelief. “Why are men so cringy?” I wonder aloud.
“No idea,” she replies with a shrug, a playful grin tugging at her lips, “but with shit like that, they’ll be single forever.”
I finish my tea and take it to the sink. “True. Well, thanks for having Chad last night. I better get home.”
She rises from the table, and together we walk to the living room where the boys are playing. “Take it easy and call me if you need anything.”
“Will do. Otherwise, I’ll see you Monday,” I say, offering a small wave as I head toward the door with Chad.
“I’m dreading Monday now,” I tell her with a sigh, already feeling the sense of dread for the upcoming week.
“Why?”
“Because Harvey will start on Monday, and after touching him, I would rather hide at home.”
She snorts. “That made my day.”
“I’m glad one of us finds it funny,” I murmur.
“Come on,” she says. “You have to find it a bit funny.”
I do, but I’m not telling her.
I leave with Chad and head home. We haven’t even been home for ten minutes when my doorbell rings.
Who is that?
I move to open the door. My mouth falls open as Harvey stands there, wearing a wolfish grin, dressed in blue jeans and an olive-green long-sleeve top, clutching bags of… groceries.
Just as I’m about to ask him what he’s doing here, Chad squeezes beside my thigh.
Shit.
Harvey's eyes widen into the size of saucers, staring at Chad. The look on his face makes me laugh. He’s spooked.
Has he never seen a kid before?
He juggles the bags clumsily, so he can extend a hand out to Chad.
I frown. What on earth is he doing?
“Mommy, what's he doing?”
“I have no idea,” I say.
“I’m offering to shake his hand,” Harvey says.
Chad is hesitant. Ever since his dad went to jail, he’s been protective of me. I’ve never uttered a bad word against my ex, but kids are smart. They sense things.
Without thinking, I slide my hand into his and shake it. The instant our skin touches, electricity shoots through my hand and up my arm, causing me to pull my hand away. I don’t know what that was. Is my body somehow sensitive to him now that I have touched… other parts?
I pull my hand from Harvey's grip, feeling a tingle linger as I curl my fingers around Chad’s smaller hand. My gaze stays on Harvey, wondering why I stupidly enjoyed it.
I need to have a serious talk to my body and get it on the same side as my head, which will never let a man back into my life. Our life.
“Who is he?” Chad’s innocent voice cuts through the tension, his wide eyes fixed on Harvey.
“Harvey. A work... friend. What brings you here?” I ask, in a soft voice for Chad’s sake, though I’m battling the urge to bite out the remarks that sit on the tip of my tongue. I never intended for anyone other than Danny and Molly to meet Chad. Harvey and my personal life aren’t supposed to mix.
So why is he here?
Harvey glances at me, concern flickering in his eyes. “Checking on you. You fainted and after the doctor?”
I shake my head at his words, already anticipating Chad's.
“What doctor, Mommy?”
“I’m fine, honey. Could you go play with your toys while I talk to Harvey?”
“Will he play basketball with me?”
“I don’t th?” I begin, but Harvey cuts me off with a reassuring, “Yeah. I’d love to.”
Chad’s eyes lights up. His squishy face melts me and makes it so hard to say no. I shoot a pointed glare at Harvey, silently communicating a well-rounded, fuck you .
“Come inside, and then we’ll walk to the neighborhood courts,” I say.
As Harvey steps past, that familiar pine smell hits me like a truck. Did he cover every part of him in that scent so I would drown in it? As if I haven’t had memories of his chiselled stomach and his smell.
I scratch my temple, observing Harvey make himself at home at the kitchen island. Closing the door, I take in the clutter of toys scattered across every room of the apartment, cursing inwardly at the mess.
He lowers the bags and scans his surroundings. I move to the first bag and start unpacking. The quicker we play basketball the quicker he can leave. His rich ass has to be judging me hard. His penthouse versus my peeling walls and leaking faucet.
I unpack the water bottles, as he pulls out the snacks, a variety of fruit, bars, and breads. When he opens the fridge and comments that I have nothing in an accusing tone, it hurts. It’s as if he’s judging me as a mother and my ability to care for Chad. It causes me to sneer, masking the sting of his judgment. “I haven’t had time to shop. I was planning to go later, but then you showed up.”
It’s a lie, but I don’t want him to know just how bad things are.
I think my small frame and fainting are enough of a sign, but I want him to know I look after Chad. He’s always well-fed; I’d rather starve than not have enough for him. I don’t want to be reported to the authorities because he thinks I’m not feeding my son. I am, and that's why my parents’ business is so important. I need it to get me out of this hole I’ve found myself in.
We continue unpacking in silence, and out of the corner of my eye, I take glimpses of Harvey moving effortlessly around my tiny kitchen.
“You don’t have to help. Would you like to sit and have a drink?”
“No, I’m done anyway,” he says, his gaze wandering around the apartment.
“I just need to change. Take a seat, I won’t be long.”
I make my way to the bedroom, pausing at the doorway to steal a glance at Harvey sitting on the sofa. Out of both sofas, he chose the spot where I sleep. He looks too big on the small sofa in my tiny living room. Chad rushes off to get his shoes on. I avoid looking at the bed in the center of the room.
I go to the closet in search of something comfortable yet clean and pull out a sweater and sneakers. Running my hands through my hair, I check my appearance out in the full-length mirror I have in the corner of my room.
Why do I bother? He’s not interested in a woman my age, with permanent lines on her face and tired bags under her eyes. With a heavy sigh, I tear my gaze away from the mirror.
Stepping out of my bedroom, my mouth parts to speak, but the words die on my tongue. Chad is in front of him, talking animatedly about something. My heart beats loudly in my ear as a mix of anxiety and frustration swirl within me. I need to get Harvey out of here.
“Are we ready?” I announce, re-entering the room.
Chad nods fast, and Harvey twists to face me before rising from the sofa. I don’t miss his gaze briefly running over my frame, probably revolted at my baggy clothes. The goal here isn’t for him to find me attractive; it’s actually the opposite. I want him to leave me alone. My head feels like it's spinning when he’s too close, blurring the trust lines, and I don’t like that. I need to regain control by pushing him away.
A couple yells at each other from the apartment upstairs, and Harvey looks at me, but I just ignore him and walk toward the stairs.
As we make our way to the sidewalk, the cool breeze wraps around me, but the way the sunshine penetrates through my clothes onto my skin is a relief. I feel the cold deep in my bones all the time.
We walk in silence for five minutes until we reach the public courts.
When we arrive, one court is taken by a group of teenagers, so we head toward the empty court, and I take a seat on the weathered bench, watching as Harvey and Chad prepare to play. Chad takes charge and bosses Harvey around explaining the rules of the game with confidence.
He’s definitely like his momma . I can’t help but smile at the sight. He makes it all worth it. No matter how tired or fucking sad I am, he makes the days so much brighter.
Harvey doesn’t argue with him, which is funny because he always talks back to me.
As the game begins, I find myself enjoying the effortless movements between the two. The sounds of their laughter, the ball bouncing on the concrete, and their sneakers on the court erase the noise of the rowdy teenagers.
Harvey's shirt has a dark patch on his lower back. He’s wearing jeans, and I’m sure it’s uncomfortable, but I guess he didn’t expect to come over and do this.
He didn’t expect Chad.
I’ve never discussed him or my life as a single mom.
Harvey runs over and I expect something to be wrong. But he rips his long sleeve shirt off and tosses it at my face. I swat it away to my lap. But the sight of his sweat-glistened skin and the smell of his aftershave cause my brain to short circuit, and I’m instantly consumed by him once again. And I’m pretty sure he can tell when he throws me a charming smile and says, “Hold this.”
“I’m not your maid, Lincoln,” I fire back.
“Now don’t be dirty with me.” He winks as he jogs off toward Chad.
I roll my eyes, but the corner of my lip lifts.
His back is to me and it’s glorious. The guy is cut, and with every dribble or shot of the ball, his muscles contract, causing heat to pool between my thighs.
When Chad gets the ball, Harvey turns, and his solid chest and abs are fully visible to me. And I say abs because the guy has a six-pack. It’s never been something I care much about. My ex-husband's dad bod was hot to me, but I admit Harvey's perspiring body is undeniably attractive.
I wish I had my sunglasses to hide behind, because every time I run my gaze over his body, I get caught. Like, does the guy have some weird telepathic power where he can sense when I’m checking him out? It’s like a desire switch has been turned on inside me and I can’t turn it off.
A few minutes later, a bead of sweat trickles from his neck down to his chest. His chest hair is short like he trims it or maybe shaves it.
I can’t be caught staring again, so I can’t inspect it properly, but if I could have one touch…
No. Stop.
My heart pounds harder, my breaths becoming ragged as I struggle to maintain control. I shuffle uncomfortably on the bench, irritated at how my body reacts despite everything. The boys are busy playing, but all I can focus on is how my skin feels too hot, how I can’t stop thinking about him. It’s frustrating, especially since I want nothing to do with guys, especially not ones like Harvey Lincoln.
Chad scores. And when Harvey grabs the ball, he says, “The next person to score has to buy the winner a treat,” grinning mischievously.
I don’t like where this is going because it feels like he knows he'll win, and he gets to buy us more food, spending his money like he was born to do.
“You’re going to lose.” Chad gives Harvey the cutest sour look. He tries to pull the ball out of Harvey's hand, and I watch as Harvey doesn’t let him have it. Yeah, he really doesn’t have kid etiquette. Most people would give the kid the ball, but Harvey doesn't. He smiles and shoots the ball through the net with ease.
“You suck,” Chad announces, to which Harvey chuckles and jogs to him, ruffling his hair.
“Come on, don't be like that,” he replies, again lacking the talk-to-kid rule. “It was a good game. Ready to celebrate?” Harvey asks.
Chad huffs. “Fine.”
The boys walk side by side over to me, and the vision has my heart racing.
This reminds me of what a positive male influence could do for him… Something I can’t provide, no matter how much I wish I could.
“No treat,” I say, trying to gain some control of the situation.
“Why not?” Chad asks, frowning, his eyes pleading for a reward.
“Because I said so.” I feel a pang of guilt for saying no.
“How about your mom has to shoot and score for me to lose?”
I die inside because I’m so bad at sports.
“I can’t,” I murmur, embarrassed.
“Why?” Harvey asks.
“She's not good,” Chad says matter-of-factly, unintentionally adding to my embarrassment.
“She can’t be that bad,” Harvey says, his tone playful yet challenging.
“Wanna make a bet?” I look at the basket that doesn’t look too high and hope for a miracle. I've tried once before, and I wasn’t too far off. If it means I get rid of Harvey today, then I’ll try.
His eyes shine with excitement. “Yeah.”
“You can’t buy us anything if I get it in,” I announce.
“You're confident you can, even after what your son said?” Harvey asks with evident amusement.
Determination floods my veins as I toss his shirt in his face, momentarily obscuring his vision before he laughs and frees himself. I grab the ball and march over to the court, silently pleading for it to go in.
Come on, please make this day end.
I try to calm my shaky hands. Remembering my dad’s tips on how to shoot, stand with your feet shoulder width apart.
But before I can, Harvey steps up behind me, his presence steady and warm. “Okay, feet shoulder-width apart,” he says gently, placing a hand on my shoulder to guide me. “Focus on the shot. Don’t rush it.”
The heat of his touch lingers as he moves his hand to my wrist, adjusting it ever so slightly. “Now bend your knees a little more. Nice and smooth.”
His fingers graze mine for just a second as he steps back.
With a deep breath and a steady hand, I adjust my feet, and then I throw it. The ball sails through the air, and my hope shatters when it hits the ring and bounces back toward us. Shit.
“Looks like you lose,” Harvey's voice whispers darkly in my ear, his tone laced with glee. He’s loving every minute of this.
I squeeze my eyes shut. Blowing out a breath, I spin on my heel to face them, forcing a smile to hide my disappointment.
“I’ve got to admit, I thought you’d be worse,” he says with a hint of honesty.
“Yeah, Mom, with practice you could be better,” Chad adds innocently.
I stare at my six-year-old, like, why are you throwing words I say to you back at me?
“I’ll have to practice with you,” I say.
“And Harvey? He would be a good teacher. He’s really good,” Chad exclaims, oblivious to my discomfort.
Gritting my teeth, I flick my gaze to Harvey. His eyebrow lifts. “I’m really good.”
I don’t want to spend more time with Harvey, well, any more than necessary. Work will be torturous enough, but Chad really enjoys having Harvey around. I can see how much he likes it, and it makes things more complicated for me.
“I won, which means I can buy the treats,” Harvey says, his tone light, and victorious.
“I’m thirsty,” Chad says.
“I forgot your water, sorry. We should just go home,” I suggest.
And we could send Harvey on his way.
“I’ll buy one at the corner store,” Harvey says.
“Yeah, Mom. The shops have water,” Chad interjects.
I sigh with defeat. Harvey puts his shirt back on, and I can finally concentrate again.
As Harvey makes his way out, I follow the boys, and we leave the courts.
We end up at Sugar Cafe. When I’m inside, I stop to read the menu. Harvey announces he’ll order himself a milkshake, and he turns to me, his gaze penetrating, giving me a look that sends a shiver down my spine. “What will you have?”
“Nothing, I’m fine,” I reply, my discomfort palpable.
He stares at me, his gaze unwavering, but instead of calling me out, he bends down to Chad and whispers, “What does Mom like?”
“Chocolate.”
Harvey straightens, wearing a wicked smirk that sends a flush creeping up my neck.
I mouth, “Traitor.”
His grin widens, and I feel my lips twitch, so I turn to call over my shoulder, “I’ll find seats. Chad, come on.”
“I’ll help Harvey,” Chad says with enthusiasm.
What?
I guess he found his new favorite person.
My bottom lip drops, and I stare at Chad, who is looking up at Harvey like he’s his new idol.
I shake my head and walk off to grab a table.
A few minutes later, Harvey comes back with two chocolate milkshakes and a cotton candy one for Chad. He also has a white paper bag.
“What’s in the bag?” I ask Chad when he sits down.
“Cookies,” he beams.
“You’re going to hear about it when he gets a stomach ache,” I mumble to Harvey.
Harvey pokes my side playfully, and I flinch at the unexpected touch. “I got you one too. I figured you needed some cheering up.”
“And a cookie is going to do that?”
“Of course. Sugar makes everyone happy,” Harvey replies with a grin.
“You don’t look like you know what that is,” I murmur under my breath, and I sound jealous of him. And it’s because I am. I’d like to have a nicer body, but minimal money means lack of food and exercise. I can’t afford the gym, nor do I have the time. When am I expected to go? I bet he goes early in the morning or after work. I don’t have the luxury to do that; I have Chad to worry about.
I’d love to have his money, to make this a weekly thing for Chad, so he could grow up with the best memories of me. And it’s not just Harvey’s money that I’m envious of, but his age and intelligence. At his age, he seems to have life figured out in ways that took me decades to. I’m forty-two and feel like I’ve wasted so much time. I stayed with my husband because I loved him, but I gave him all my power, and now that I think about it, I should’ve learned how to manage my bills, money, and life. I’m starting over and I feel stupid.
“Nice that you take notice of me,” he says before wrapping his lips around the straw. And, of course, he looks so hot doing that too.
“I didn’t mean that,” I retort, even though his body doesn’t look like he eats much sugar. I felt the muscles, not just the one between his thighs.
We drink our shakes in silence. I’m surprised it’s not as awkward as I thought it would be. Chad has welcomed Harvey with open arms, and that worries me. He’s not going to be in Chad's life. The job will be done, and we will both move on. He’ll forget about us. And I can’t blame him, but I need to protect us from the potential heartbreak.
Once we finish our shakes, Chad holds the bag of untouched cookies, saving them for later.
We slowly walk home, and I let Chad soak up the last few minutes of his outing with Harvey.
When we arrive at the steps of the apartment complex, Chad speaks up.
“I wish I had someone like you to play with all the time,” he says, longing evident in his voice. It makes my chest ache.
And before I can respond, Harvey interjects with an offer, “I can. Just tell your mom to call me.”
I shoot him daggers. Asshole. Using my kid to call him is a low blow.
“We might be busy,” I say.
“Doing what?” Harvey asks, but the grin he’s wearing shows he knows I’m trying to avoid him.
“Working.”
“You don’t work all the time,” he challenges.
I know Chad is hanging on to every word. So I sigh. I can’t let my own feelings get in the way of Chad’s happiness no matter how I feel about Harvey. “I’ll call you when he asks.”
“Good. Now, thanks Chad for a good day,” Harvey says.
“Do you want to come in and play the Switch or Legos?” Chad offers.
Alarm bells ring in my ear. I’ve had enough of him with us for today. I’m twisted up from him, and I just need a second alone to breathe.
“I can’t today, maybe next time,” Harvey says.
He probably has a girlfriend to visit.
“Where are you going?” Chad asks.
“Chad, that’s enough,” I say.
Harvey smiles at Chad. “It’s fine. I’m going to my grams’ house. I have dinner with her on Sundays.”
“You do?” Chad asks with a hint of awe in his voice, and it’s similar to how I’m feeling.
Harvey simply nods.
“Mine is away,” Chad says, sounding sad.
He nods as silence envelops us.
If I’m honest, I find it kind of cute that he hangs out with his grams on a Sunday night. Not what I expected of a rich, hot thirty-four-year-old guy.
“Well, we better let you go,” I add.
“Thanks, and I’ll see you tomorrow,” Harvey says, waving.
“How could I forget,” I breathe out, but a small smile tugs at the corners of my lips.
He smirks knowingly. “Bye, Ms. Recaredo.”
“Her name’s Jemima,” Chad replies.
“I like her name,” he tells Chad, throwing me a wink.
We watch as Harvey turns and walks away. I then usher Chad upstairs, listening to him talk about how much fun today was and all about Harvey’s basketball tips. As soon as I open the apartment door, Chad walks to his room to play. I close the door and lean back on it, closing my eyes for a second to regain my composure.
After a minute, I peel myself away and walk to the sofa with a full stomach. The milkshake is making me need to lie down.
As I settle back on the sofa, Harvey’s scent lies heavy on the worn fabric. The day spent with him catching glimpses of his skin and then memories of his hot touch replays in my brain. But that’s not even the worst part; it's how he interacted with Chad. I hadn’t realized until today just how much he enjoyed having a male around. Would it be all that bad to let him hang out and play hoops every once in a while? The heaviness in my gut says, but what happens when he leaves? Because he will.