5. Chapter 5 – Rae
A ny worries I’d had about spending time with Zach after my breakup with Simon dissolved under the weight of the kids’ distress over their mom leaving.
I could have kissed Zach when he suggested ice cream.
Hana perked up immediately. Tae was a harder sell, but even he seemed happier by the time we reached the ice cream parlor.
It was only after Tae finished an entire cone of chocolate that I remembered an important detail: he was lactose intolerant. There went my stand-in-parent-of-the-year award.
We made it to the public restroom by the farmer’s market just in time. Zach followed Tae inside. Sounds of Tae’s distress reached Hana and me as we waited outside, and I grimaced.
“C’mon, Hana, let’s walk around the square while we wait.”
We toured the courtyard, admiring the new bandstand and the pig statue that commemorated the Pig War between the US and Canada. The brick-patterned sculpture was decorated for summer in a festive straw hat and flowers. Hana fingered one of the flower petals gently.
“Pretty, right?” I smiled at the picture she made. Dark pigtails, smooth cheeks, pink outfit against the darker pig.
“The flowers make me think of Daddy,” she said softly.
“Why fl—oh.” Right. From the funeral .
I slipped my hand around hers, squeezing gently. I had no words. I couldn’t imagine that kind of loss so young. I’d been quite a bit older when my parents divorced, my mother moving to the mainland.
Back at the house, I encouraged the kids to change into pajamas, and we popped popcorn before settling in with a movie in the living room. Zach and I sandwiched the kids between us, Hana snuggled up to my side.
By the time the movie finished, Hana’s eyes were drooping, and Zach hoisted her over his shoulder. The little girl wilted, her eyes closed. She looked utterly relaxed, safe and secure in his strong arms.
For a moment, it was easy to forget Zach and I were just babysitting. He looked the part of the strong, capable father.
I could picture him with a couple kids of his own, all adorable dimples and sassy grins as they bantered with their dad. He’d be nothing like my father. Zach made faux fatherhood look easy, but he didn’t strike me as ready to settle down with just one woman. Not yet.
Still, the thought of Zach Fenwick’s deep brown eyes locked on mine, all that charm pouring over me like a summer storm, warm and fierce, left me breathless.
Like he sensed my turmoil, he glanced at me over Hana’s back, a twinkle in his eyes that teased the dad role he was playing… but all he really did was leave me hot and bothered, reminded of how badly I wanted him in a different one.
Tae grumbled next to me, checking his phone. “Did my mom text you yet?”
“Not yet.”
“She’s probably just stuck in traffic. I’m sure we’ll hear from her soon.”
“Yeah.” His sigh held the weight of the world, and my heart hurt for the little boy .
“We’ll do our best to have a fun summer,” I promised. “You’ll have day camp while I work, and I’ll plan some adventures for the weekends.”
Tae perked up. “Can we go out sailing on your boat? Explore some of the other islands?”
“You bet,” I said easily. “C’mon. Brush your teeth. We can talk about more ideas after camp tomorrow.”
I checked the doors and windows before following him upstairs. Tae brushed his teeth and slipped into his room in record time, the sliver of light filtering from beneath his door the only sign that he was still up. I knocked gently before poking my head in.
Tae scowled at his phone.
“She’ll text soon,” I reassured.
He tossed his phone aside, folding his arms across his chest. “Doesn’t matter. With the parental controls, I won’t see it until morning.”
I retrieved his phone from the navy sheets, tapping in the parent code and extending it to him. “Your mom left me prepared. Just don’t stay up too late, okay?”
He nodded, summoning a smile. “Thanks, Aunt Rae.”
“You’re welcome. I just don’t want you grumpy when I have to wake you up for camp.”
He lifted one shoulder, expression sheepish. “Yeah, that’s gonna happen no matter how much I sleep. I hate waking up.”
I threw my hands in the air. “Now you tell me.” I said it in a teasing tone, adding a smile. My heart lightened when Tae grinned back.
“Night, Aunt Rae.”
“Good night. ”
I peeked into Hana’s room, careful to be quiet. She was snuggled up against Zach’s shoulder, listening intently to his deep voice as he read to her. She spotted me and patted the bed next to her.
“C’mon, Aunt Rae. Zach is reading me a story, and he does the voices just like Daddy used to.”
She was impossibly cute, her gaze pleading. But her bed was too narrow for three.
“I don’t think I’ll fit,” I said gently.
“We’ll make room,” Zach volunteered, scooting back until he pressed against the wall. Hana snuggled closer and patted the bed again, her dark brown eyes liquid with silent entreaty.
I slid onto the bed next to her, aware that I was half in Zach’s arms as I fought gravity and the edge of the tiny bed. He wrapped me closer, sandwiching Hana between us until she squawked.
“Too tight! Let me breathe!”
“Oh. Sorry. Who put you here?” Zach asked, glancing down quizzically at Hana.
“You did!” the little girl squealed in delight, giggling.
“Oops. Now, where was I?”
Hana babbled about their place in the book, and he resumed his tale. His deep voice spun a story at once magical and sweet. I was plastered against him and Hana, his left hand on my hip holding me in place. He held the book up in his right, Hana helping him flip pages as she listened, rapt.
And dammit if he didn’t really do the voices.
He turned the frog into a British dandy that made Hana laugh.
But it was his surly fox that kept me on edge, aware of every inch of his long body.
Our feet tangled, one of his strong calves covering mine.
Hana curled up into a tight ball, leaving me entirely too much Zach-owned real estate on the small bed .
His voices and Hana’s laughter became a soothing background to my thoughts, which wandered from what to cook for dinner this week to how to keep the kids distracted from their grief.
Hana’s bed was warm and cozy. Zach’s hand on my hip kept me from feeling like I’d roll off.
I let my eyes close. Just for a minute. Soaking in the way Zach’s deep baritone washed over me.
Hana wiggled. I was vaguely aware of her climbing over me.
Probably to go to the bathroom. I listened for a moment, still half-asleep.
The drugging effects of fatigue pulled me under again, and I snuggled into the warm weight next to me, the steady heartbeat beneath my cheek lulling me back to sleep.
Light filtered into the room, a weak beam striking me in the face. I wiggled, turning to escape the glare. My bed rumbled, and I stilled. My eyes popped open. Zach’s face was next to mine, his expression soft.
“Hello.” Slowly he stretched, yawning. His big body arched beneath me .
Hana. Where was Hana?
I scrambled out of bed, searching for the little girl. A phantom fear had me worrying that we’d somehow squished her for real. I whirled, spotting her curled up on the beanbag in the corner of her room, fast asleep.
I bit back a curse. My stand-in-parent-of-the-year award was definitely at risk. What kind of guardian pushed her kid out of her own bed on her first night home without her mom?
I tiptoed closer, tucking Hana’s blanket around her. She slept on, cheeks flushed.
Behind me, I heard Zach shift, Hana’s bed squeaking as he rose to his full height beside me. He blinked sleepily at me before grinning.
“Good morning, Captain. You look like the cuddly little fox from our story this morning.”
Self-consciously, I smoothed my hair, sure it looked like a rat’s nest, no matter what he said. Painfully aware that I wanted his words to be true.
“Flirt,” I said without heat.
Something flickered in his eyes. Maybe a moment of hurt.
I slipped into Jia’s room, dressing for the day in fresh coveralls and a San Juan Marine Repair tee before joining Zach downstairs.
He extended a mug of coffee with a crooked smile, his left dimple flashing, his hair still mussed and standing on end. My stomach dipped to my toes, leaving me woozy like I had my first-ever bout of seasickness.
Clearly, I needed the caffeine badly if I was lightheaded. Yep. The caffeine.
His fingers brushed mine, and I bobbled the cup, sloshing hot coffee over both our hands. “Shit. Sorry.”
I flushed. Zach had handed me hundreds of tools while I had my head stuck in his engine, troubleshooting.
I hadn’t dropped a single wrench or screwdriver from him.
Ever. One sleepy smile over our morning coffee and he had me feeling like my fingers were coated in LubriMatic, unable to grip anything.
He set the mug aside, plunging our hands under the sink faucet.
The cold water jetted out, covering our fingers.
The angry red patch on my index finger faded quickly, the water easing the sting.
His bulk brushed my back, hovering just behind me.
I shivered, the contrast of his heat and the icy water the wake-up I needed.
This was Zach. My friend. My summer parenting partner. Just because we were playing house with Jia’s kids didn’t mean he wanted more than that. I was the one making things awkward.
“Better?” his murmured question brought me back to myself.
“Yeah. Sorry again.” My words came out rusty .
I twisted off the water, putting distance between us. Avoiding looking at him. I didn’t need the swirl of confusing feelings this sweet version of Zach produced.
“Nah, I probably needed that cold shower this morning.”
He said it easily, and my gaze flashed to his, sure I’d see the usual self-deprecating humor there. Except his eyes were dark with something I couldn’t quite name.
“Can you meet me for lunch today? I still owe you tacos for helping with Nauti By Nature’s engine issues.
Plus, we can go over the kids’ camp schedule.
There are a couple of days when I need to cover Isa at Harbor Brews in the afternoon.
We might need to ask Gran to pick the kids up if you can’t get away from work. ”
“Sure,” I said, still lightheaded. Desperately, I gathered my mug to my chest, cautiously taking a sip. The sweet dark brew hit me.
His smile spread, deepening the dimples in each cheek. Why I was fascinated with the man’s cheek muscles remained a mystery. After years of friendship, I should have been immune.
“Great. I’m going to shower and head out. I’ll see you at the harbor at noon?”
I dipped my chin.
He lifted his mug in a silent salute and headed for the stairs. His bare feet and plaid pajama pants disappeared from view in slow, confident strides.
If I watched every step, it was only because my coffee hadn’t kicked in yet. Not because I was stuck on how domesticated Zach seemed. Making me coffee. Setting up lunch plans. All friendly. So why were my knees still jelly?