Chapter 5
Chapter Five
Foster
“Is there anything else for today?” Eden asks.
“Yes, actually,” I tell her.
“Sure, what can I do?”
“You can come sit with me and help me pick out a gift.” I tap the cushion next to me on the couch, where I’m sitting with my iPad.
“Oh, spending someone else’s money? I’m in. Who are we shopping for?” She takes the cushion next to me, kicks off her shoes, and pulls her legs beneath her.
“One of my best friends is getting married this weekend, and I need a gift.”
“This weekend? Foster! What if it’s not here in time?” she asks, looking panicked on my behalf.
It’s cute as hell.
“I’ll expedite the shipping or do in-store pickup or something.” I shrug.
“That doesn’t always work. What if what you want isn’t in stock?”
“Then I find something else.”
“Oh, brother.” She sighs. “What are you considering as options?”
“I don’t have any. That’s why I need your help.”
“Okay. Well, do they have a house? Are they already living together?”
“Yes, and yes. He has a son, who is hers out of love,” I tell her. Then I go into the logistics of Baker and Sloane’s relationship.
“Wow,” she breathes. “I love that for them. I feel sorry for little Camden, but I’m glad he has Sloane in his life.”
“Yeah, they’re both lucky to have her.” It’s the truth. Even though she’s been in our lives for quite some time, Sloane working for Baker as Camden’s nanny brought my friend back to life. He’s happy again, and she did that.
“Okay, so they have a son, a house full of things already. What about something like a personalized picture frame with their wedding date on it? Crap, never mind. I don’t think you could get that before this weekend. You’ve put yourself into a pickle,” she tells me.
“A pickle?” I laugh.
“Yep.” She grins at my amusement at her choice of words.
“That’s a good idea. Let’s see if we can find a place locally, or if I can do expedited shipping.”
“You’re going to pay so much more than necessary because you waited.”
“That’s okay. I can afford it.”
“Foster,” she scolds as she pushes on my shoulder. “That’s not the point. Just because you can afford to, doesn’t mean you need to be frivolous.”
“I happen to agree with you. However, if I can’t spend my money frivolously on my family, then what’s the point of having it?”
“Fine,” she concedes. “I see your point. Next time, plan ahead so you don’t have to. How long have you known about this wedding?”
“A few months.”
She sighs. “What am I going to do with you?” she asks, taking the iPad from my hands and tapping at the screen.
I don’t even try to hide my smile. Leaning a little closer to watch what she’s doing, I inhale her vanilla scent, letting it wrap around me. It’s subtle, and I know it’s a scent that will forever remind me of the woman sitting next to me.
“There’s this one site I see all over social media…
” she says, turning the screen so that I can see it.
“We have to pick something and then add it to the cart to see how soon we can get it.” She types in wedding frame, and all the options pop up.
She leans into me, and I’m already leaning into her, which has our bodies aligned as she scrolls through the options.
“I like that one.” I point at a frame, and she taps the screen. I tell her all the details, and she adds it to the cart.
“You’re in luck, Mr. Vaughn. You can pay an overnight rush fee and have it here by Friday.”
“Perfect. The wedding is Saturday. Let’s see if they have a family one. Something they can put a picture of all three of them in. Something like the Sinclair Family or something similar,” I suggest.
“Oh, love that idea.” She goes back to typing and tapping at the screen, and I watch as she scrolls.
“That one.” I point to a frame.
“That’s my favorite, too.” We repeat the process of me giving her the details and adding the second frame to the cart.
Reaching into my back pocket, I pull out my wallet and hand her my black AmEx card. “Here.”
Eden takes my card, enters all the details, and hits Submit. “There, mission accomplished.”
“Thank you. You’re a lifesaver.” Taking my card, I slide it back into my wallet, and then she hands me back my iPad. “What are your plans for the rest of the day?” I ask her.
“Nothing much. Scrounge around in the fridge for something for dinner, then some laundry.”
“What about tomorrow?”
“No plans. Do you need me?”
“I thought maybe we could go back to the children’s home. I mean, if you want to go with me.”
“Sure, I’d love to go. Should I meet you there?” she asks, biting down on her bottom lip.
“I can pick you up. Just text me your address. Say, nine?”
“That works for me.” She moves her legs and groans a little.
Without thinking, I grab a leg, pull it into my lap, and start massaging. “You sat for too long in the same position, huh?” I ask, my hands kneading her calf. “Give me the other one.”
“You don’t have to,” she protests, but it’s weak at best.
“Eden. Give me your damn leg,” I say, and she complies, placing her other leg across my thighs. “You might as well lean back and relax,” I tell her as I place a hand on each calf and massage.
“You’re good at that,” she muses.
“I’m a professional athlete. I’ve had my fair share of cramps and massages to fix them.”
“Right.” She nods.
“You got your phone on you?” I ask, my hands still working their magic.
“Yeah.” She reaches into her pants pocket and pulls it out.
“Send me your address before you forget.”
“Bossy,” she mutters, but she swipes at her phone screen, and I hear my phone alert me to her message. “Done.”
“Thank you. Better?” I ask, nodding toward her legs. Her calves are toned, and it’s not lost on me that this is the most intimacy I’ve let myself have in far longer than I care to admit.
“So much better. You know if this football thing ever gets old, you could pick up massage therapy,” she teases.
“These hands are only for special clients.” I wiggle my fingers on both hands, making her laugh.
“Well, in that case, I’m honored. Thank you, Mr. Vaughn,” she replies sweetly.“You’re welcome, Miss Miller.”
She stands, goes to slip back into her shoes, and loses her balance. I see it happen, so I reach out and grip her hips, stopping her from falling. “Careful,” I whisper, and ignore how well my hands seem to fit her body.
“Thanks for the assist.”
“That’s hockey.”
“What term would I use in football?”
“There’s not a term in football to fit this situation.”
“You know hockey?”
I shrug. “I know sports.”
“Well, thank you for saving me from falling.” Her voice is softer this time.
“Anytime, Eden.” Her name rolls off my tongue with practiced ease when it’s only been a few weeks of knowing her. I stand and follow her to the door. “Tomorrow at nine,” I remind her, as I stand and follow her to the door.
She smiles up at me. Her big blue eyes sparkle.
She’s excited to go back to the children’s home, and I’m pretty sure some of that smile is because she’s going with me.
“I’ll be ready.” She slips out of her shoes.
“I should have just kept them off.” She laughs as she changes into her outdoor-only shoes.
“I wasn’t thinking,” she says, grabbing the inside-only shoes and shoving them into her bag.
“Bye again.” She chuckles and waves as I open the door for her.
I don’t close it until I see that she’s in her car and backing out of my driveway.
“Not so fast, little man,” I bend down and scoop Camden into my arms. He giggles as I tickle his belly. “Where are you headed?” I ask him. He was obviously in hot pursuit of something, and since he’s a toddler and raised with misfit uncles like me, I’m guessing it was mischief.
He points behind me. “Cake.”
I was right. “It’s not time for cake yet,” I tell him.
He juts out his bottom lip, and I laugh.
This kid has all our numbers, but not today.
Today, his parents, Baker and Sloane, got married at their house, and the ceremony ended just ten minutes ago.
This is the one time I can’t spoil the little guy and give him what he wants.
“Unca Fosser, cake,” he says sweetly, placing his hands on my cheeks.
Damn, this kid is killing me. He knows what he’s doing. He’s not even three yet, and he has this cute little manipulation skit of his down to a science.
“Is this one giving you trouble?” Rowan laughs, appearing at my side. “I thought you might need some help.”
“Possibly. He’s hard to say no to,” I admit.
Rowan nods because she knows we’re all suckers for the kids in the family—hell, the women, too. Camden, however, was the firstborn in our little group. He got all our attention until Coral and Alexander were born. Now, he has to share.
“You’re telling me.” She chuckles as she reaches out to brush Camden’s hair out of his eyes. “Want me to take him?” she offers, because that’s what we do. We all look after each other, which includes wives and kids, and in this case, friends and kids.
“Nah, I got him. You know, you’re going to have your hands full when you have a little one,” I tell her, smiling, thinking about Landry as a dad. “Landry is going to be a big softie. You’re going to have to be the one who puts your foot down.”
“Don’t I know it.” Rowan smiles wistfully.
“It’s exciting, though.” She lifts her hand to rub it gently down Camden’s back, and he smiles at her.
“I can’t wait for our turn,” she muses. “You’re good with him.
” She nods toward Camden, who’s resting his head on my shoulder. “You’ll be a great dad, Foster.”
“There was a time that I thought I would be. A dad, I mean. But that was a long time ago.”
Rowan’s eyes widen as if she can’t believe I gave her that information, and to be honest, I’m shocked, too.
“It’s not too late,” she tells me, recovering from her shock.