Chapter Three
Holly
I pull into the driveway, the porch light flickering like it’s trying to decide whether or not to give up. I feel you, porch light, more than you know.
Inside, the house looks quiet, so I sit in Evie’s car for a long moment, letting myself breathe. I forgot to thank her again for letting me borrow it this morning. I need to make a point to do something extra kind for her after everything she’s done for me lately.
I should be thinking about that. Instead, my mind is stuck in a loop of what just happened at the estate sale.
I mean, I know I’ve found what I was looking for.
If appraised well, the books would give a huge influx of cash to the bookstore, maybe even help keep the doors open another month while we figure out a more permanent plan.
This is good news. Really good news, and I’m really happy about it.
Heck, if there’s enough money left over, I might even get a few bucks to throw on my own pile of bills, including the thousand dollars I owe the mechanic for fixing my car.
Sure, there are a few more hoops to jump through, but life is looking way more promising than it was this morning. My brain should be able to relax now.
I need my brain to relax now.
So then why is it fixating on the massive man that’s supposed to call me later? Why am I imagining what he does to make those hands so strong and rough? Why am I thinking about the way his thick frame would feel pressing into mine?
Clearly, I need help.
I grab the books from the passenger seat, tuck my coat tighter around my waist, and head inside to the jovial sounds of Evie and Kade chasing each other back and forth in the hallway.
“Hey!” Evie shines the second I step into the house. “How’d it go?”
I crack a smile and hold up the books. “I think I found something good. This guy is having them authenticated right now. I should know what they’re worth by the end of the day.”
“Oh shit!” Evie barrels into me for a hug. “That’s fantastic! You must be so relieved!”
“Cautiously optimistic,” I say, leaning down to lift Kade up for a kiss. He’s covered in red and green marker, and he smells like cinnamon. “Did Aunt Evie let you run the show while Mommy was out?”
Kade grins and wiggles down from my grip with a wild look in his eye that confirms my suspicions.
“I like seeing him happy.” Evie shrugs. “What can I say?”
“Nothing. I’m just glad you were here today. Thank you for watching him.”
“No worries. I’m always happy to spend time with the little rugrat.
” She raises her brows and draws in a deep breath.
“Which is why I’m thinking he should come back to my place tonight.
We can finish up the Christmas project we’re working on for you, and you can have the night to yourself. I know you could use it.”
Without Evie, I’m pretty sure I’d be devastatingly lonely and unable to cope with real life. She has a sixth sense that locks in without hesitation whenever I need it.
“What about the hops?” I glance toward Kade jumping like a rabbit down the hallway. “He’s eaten a lot of sugar. Tonight will be… fun.” I raise my brows, playfully teasing.
“He’s fine. We’ll eat some veggies to offset the sugar, and he’ll be calmed back down in no time.” She grins and grabs his bag from the closet as though the night is a foregone conclusion.
“So, tell me more about the guy doing the appraisal of your books. Is he hot? Should you have a night of rough,” she glances toward Kade, then adjusts her sentence accordingly, “play with him?”
“Yeah, I don’t think so. I mean,” I tilt my head to the side and smile, “he seems like a bit of a grump, but yeah, he’s hot. Like, hot… hot.”
“Don’t tell him that. Men are way more interested when you don’t act impressed.”
I laugh, shaking my head. “So I should just pretend I didn’t notice that his shoulders are built like a fireman in one of those charity calendars?”
“Oh damn… he does sound hot. What’s he do for a living?” She tucks into the bathroom, grabs Kade’s toothbrush, then crosses the hallway toward his room, stuffing pajamas and an outfit into the bag before grabbing his favorite dinosaur off his bed.
“No clue, but he’s got these big, strong, rough man hands.” I lean against the door frame and sigh. “I…”
“You need to get laid. How long has it been… really?”
I shrug. “I don’t know, three years.”
Her eyes widen dramatically. “Three years? No wonder you’re salivating over calluses. Call him, be upfront, and tell him exactly what you want.” She shrugs. “I did that once, and this guy totally respected it. Got me out of my dry spell.”
“You’re a virgin.”
“Well, yeah, we didn’t have sex, but we like… almost had sex. And we kissed a lot, so… call this hot, brooding, shoulder guy and offer yourself up as sacrifice. I guarantee he won’t turn you down. Men are easy.”
“Is this the kind of language my son is absorbing around you?” I land my hand on my hip playfully. “You’re corrupting him.”
“Please,” she laughs, lifting him into her arms. “He still thinks the moon follows him home. I think we’re good.”
Kade wraps his arms around Evie’s neck and hums low as though the sugar is wearing off and he’s sleepy. I’m so thankful for the relationship she has with him. It’s sweet and easy, and I know he sees her like I do, as family.
“Thank you. I could really use this break tonight.”
“I know,” Evie says. “Now call the hot guy with the rough hands and see if he’s free. You can thank me later.”
I tuck Kade’s jacket on him while he’s snuggled into Aunt Evie’s arms, followed by his hat, before kissing his head. “Have fun with your crazy auntie tonight. Mommy loves you.”
Kade mumbles something unintelligible, already halfway to dreamland.
I smile, heart tugging in that bittersweet way it always does when I let him go, even just for a night. “Text me if he gets fussy.”
Evie waves a hand. “Please. I’ve got snacks, a stack of Christmas cartoons, and the stamina of a woman who hasn’t had to chase a toddler full-time all week. We’re going to have a blast. Just promise me you’ll be reckless. You need it.”
I roll my eyes, blow her a kiss, and lock the door behind them as the wind picks up.
Evie only lives a few houses down, right off Main, so I watch until their silhouettes disappear into the soft glow of the porch lights, Kade’s little dinosaur hat bobbing as she situates him into his car seat and drives the two minutes back to her place.
The house is quiet now. Really quiet. A rare kind of silence that feels both foreign and indulgent. I lean against the door for a moment, letting the hush settle into my bones, then I exhale.
Reckless. Maybe I should be reckless.
For a second, I let my mind wander into the darkness. What if I were reckless? What if I called Grayson right now and told him to come over? What if I offered to do anything he asked? What if I let go of the routine and the rules, and I took what I wanted?
A warming pulse throbs between my legs. Apparently, a part of me likes that idea… a lot.
I imagine his eyes lingering, his voice rumbling, and those big, strong shoulders flexing when he bends me over.
Okay, I need a drink. A really cold drink, except I don’t reach for one. I reach for my phone, thumb hovering over Grayson’s name. I could text him. He deserves a thank you. A little something to keep the thread between us from fraying.
I type, ‘Hope your book guy has good news. Thanks again for today.’
Then I stare at it.
Too formal, and I didn’t mention anything about dicking me down. That was the most important part.
I delete it and try again. ‘If you’re still up later, I owe you a drink, or a cookie, or a thank you hug. Your pick.’
Oh God, I sound like a needy little mess.
I delete the message and toss my phone on the couch before landing there myself. I wasn’t made for one-night stands and hot guys with strong shoulders. I was made for this couch and a bag of chips with an ice cream chaser.
Still, I crack one eye open and glance at the phone, the dark screen daring me to pick it up again.
I don’t. I can’t. There’s nothing to say. He’ll text me when he’s ready.
And if he doesn’t?
God, what am I doing? I press the heels of my palms into my eyes. I don’t have the energy to get fixated on some guy right now. I should be searching the house for change, looking for things I could sell, researching how much a spare kidney could earn me on the black market.
I can’t do this!
Buzz. My phone vibrates on the couch beside me, and my heart tightens.
Oh God! It’s him! It has to be him. I’m not expecting a call from anyone else.
I reach for the phone and flip it over, staring down at the screen with the anticipation of a very sick person who needs a mental health checkup immediately.
Corey: I’m short on child support this month.
My chest tightens, and rage blooms where hope was standing. This man is going to be the death of me. No greeting, no apology, just the same old stuff. Drop the weight and expect me to carry it.
My fingers hover over the screen, itching to respond, to say something sharp or tired or honest, but I don’t.
I don’t give him the satisfaction of my anger.
I won’t allow him to see me upset anymore.
Hell, when we were together, the man didn’t care when I was upset. What difference would it make now?
I lean against the counter, arms crossed tightly over my chest as I try to remember what I ever saw in him in the first place.
He could make me feel like the center of the universe one minute and a complete burden the next…
and I stayed. I stayed and I let him play the game.
I let him bend the rules, twist apologies, and let me feel invisible.
Ignoring the text, I pull up the webpage for Evergreen Tree Farm.
It’s a little ranch just west of here that my family used to head up to this time of year.
They have a little Christmas festival, a reindeer barn, and a cocoa bar that has everything under the sun.
Kade loved it last year, and they had some Charlie Brown type trees marked way down.
I found a three-footer for under twenty bucks.
Plus, it looks like Santa will be there tomorrow.
We haven’t made a trip to see Santa yet.
That’s what we need, a trip to the tree farm.
Something festive and free of toxic men and all their agendas.
I swear I’ll raise Kade to treat women right and to know that showing up is the bare minimum. That apologies without change is just manipulation. I promise I’ll make sure he knows that love is steady, safe, and doesn’t leave you begging for scraps.
Another buzz. I click back to my messages, apparently a glutton for punishment. If it’s Corey again, I’m not holding back. I’m going to answer it and I’m going to tell him exactly what I think. Except it’s not Corey, it’s Grayson.
My chest tightens as I scan over the message quickly. On my first read-through all I see is the word dinner and my entire body floats before my eyes can focus on the rest of the text.
Grayson: Are you up for dinner? My treat. We can wait for my guy to get back to us together.
I stare at the message, rereading it like the words might change if I blink too hard. It’s simple, casual, and completely innocuous.
I should say yes. Then again, I was just reminded of the reason men these days suck, but… Grayson is older. His views on the world are a lot different than Corey’s.
My thumb hovers over the keyboard. I want to say yes.
I want to say hell yes. I want to say hell yes and add an invitation to my bed, but my brain is already running laps around every insecurity I’ve ever collected.
My lumpy thighs. My squishy stomach. The way I ramble when I get nervous.
The fact that I haven’t shaved my legs in two weeks.
Still, he asked, and I want to say yes. I really, really want to say yes.
I type: Yeah, dinner sounds good.
I send the message without overthinking what a dork I am, then race to the bathroom to shower and shave my legs.
I’m sure it’s not necessary, but better safe than sorry.