Chapter 31
“No, dad. You cannot meet him yet. It’s not that serious. We’ve been on…” I pause. “Four dates. I guess.”
“When did all of these happen?” He grins at Ella across their matching recliners. “You been sneakin’ around?”
She reaches over and smacks him with the back of her hand playfully, but with reprimand behind it.
“I’m not sure if you know this, but…I’m a grown woman.
I do many things you don’t know about.” I won’t tell him about the motorcycle ride.
Not that it matters, because, like I said, I’m a grown woman.
But it feels like a private little moment that I want to keep to myself…
and Jameson. And I don’t want to hear it.
I guess I should say motorcycle rides. Plural.
Jameson took me on his bike back to my car in the lot this morning after we finally ate breakfast. He had to dump everything in the pan that was half cooked and start over again.
I wasn’t as scared the second time, but it was a different experience in the daytime. I think I prefer the night. It felt more like I was flying. More magical.
Anyway, I don’t think I’ll have too many rides in my future. That was a rare occurrence where I let loose a little. I’m still a mom. I told Jameson as much when he dropped me off this morning. He understood.
He also joked that he hopes I’ll ride something else again soon. Very soon. There were no arguments on my end. I hadn’t gotten nearly enough of him.
Now I’m here, picking up my little mini, having to have a discussion with my dad about my dates like I’m sixteen again.
No one warned me that just when you think you’re free from your parents, as soon as you have a kid you’re right back in their clutches.
That is, if you want any sort of help—which I have needed as a single working mom.
Suddenly you’re an adult asking them if they can watch your kid, essentially asking if you can go out on a date on a Saturday night all over again.
At least I don’t have to depend on my mom. I’m not sure if I could have survived that. Not that it was ever an option anyway. She’s never once offered to help or asked if I needed any.
“Mom,” Jess says, peeking up from her book. She’s curled up on the couch reading a battered Nancy Drew novel. I suspect Ella gave it to her; I’ve never seen it before. “When will I get to meet him?”
“Uh…” I don’t keep many secrets from her, and once my dad and Ella knew, I told Jess about the date too. I didn’t want them accidentally slipping and her hearing it from them instead. “Not yet, pumpkin. I don’t even know what it is yet.”
She nods thoughtfully, then shifts her attention back to her book. I swear, she’s such a chill ten-year-old. Quiet, but conversational when needed. And thoughtful. I’m pretty sure she’s a fifty-year-old in a ten-year-old’s body.
My dad begins to holler, startling me. It’s Sunday football, there’s a game on the TV, and everyone looks content and comfortable, so I kick my feet up and watch too, though I zone out fast.
Ella also made her famous dip, which she’s mentioned three times already. I plan on enjoying way too much of it—even though I was filled up at breakfast. In more ways than one…
A noise escapes though my nose at that thought, and Ella looks over, confusion painting her face.
“Nothing.” I shake my head, smiling to myself for laughing out loud at my own joke in my head.
She arches an eyebrow at me, then averts her gaze toward the TV again. No one else noticed my little episode.
I check my phone and find a message from Jameson from two minutes ago. How did I miss that? I always have my phone at least on vibrate.
Jameson: I hope you’re having a good day.
Carly: You just saw me an hour ago. And yes, I am, thanks to you. It started with a bang.
Jameson: Wow…
Carly: Sorry. It was just right there.
Jameson: Don’t be sorry. I’m laughing out loud right now.
Carly: Liar.
Jameson: I’d never lie to you, baby.
My cheeks flush. I’ve never been one for pda or gross nicknames, but for some reason when this sexy-as-hell, smart man calls me “baby,” my knees go weak.
Carly: Promise?
Jameson: Yes.
Jameson: And I’ll tell you a truth right now. I cannot get you off my mind. Last night was not enough. This morning was not enough. I’m completely consumed by everything about you. Your smile, your laugh, the smell of your honey hair…
Jameson: And also, that little whimpering noise you make…
My cheeks are flushed. I know it. I can feel it. Don’t need a mirror to confirm it.
Shoot. I can’t even think of what to say.
“Same?” That’s so bad. And I’m taking too long.
Jameson: Sorry. Was that too much? I warned you…When I know what I want, I go for it.
Carly: Not too much. That was…perfect. Same.
Jameson: I make a little whimpering sound as well?
Carly: Yes. It’s adorable.
Jameson: Come on. If I’m honest, you have to be too.
Carly: Okay, okay. A joke doesn’t count though.
Jameson: I’ll give a pass.
Carly: So, tomorrow, house hunting again?
Jameson: Can’t wait.
Carly: Actually. I’m so sorry. I forgot I picked up a shift tomorrow. Wednesday?
Jameson: See you Wednesday.