Chapter 7
ON BOARD FOR IT
“Iwon again,” Archer shouted.
Jayce thought he was better at video games than he was, but he was used to different games than Archer was playing when he had time.
His games weren’t best for an eight-year-old though.
So football it was, which had never been his sport.
“You did,” he said.
“And I think you’ve had enough screen time for today,” Farrah said, coming back into the room.
His eyes landed on her body, his glance lingering more than it should. She caught it, dipped her head, gave a soft smile and then returned her attention to her son.
Did he remember her legs being that long before?
Yeah, he did. Might have had some not so clean memories of them wrapped around him as a teen while they made out on the couch. But they were fantasies.
Even long after they’d broken up and decided to just be friends, he still dreamed about her body against his.
He wondered if she’d struggled as much as him to step back from those two months of closeness they’d had.
Though they hadn’t had sex, he had gone to third base with her. Felt the most intimate parts of her body and had spent the past week dreaming of it again.
He had no right to do that. He knew.
But Farrah standing there in baggy jeans and a fitted purple T-shirt, showing off the athletic body he remembered she had wasn’t helping him either.
Her text coming in last night asking if he was serious about watching Archer might have been the best news he’d received in years.
Sad but true.
Then for her to want him to come to dinner.
Hell yes, he was on board for it.
“Can we go outside and play catch?” Archer asked, jumping up. “How long will dinner be? You did lasagna, right?”
She turned to him. “As you can tell, Archer asks more questions before he gets the answers to the others. Yes, we can go play catch if Jayce is okay with that. The lasagna will cook for an hour and then it will need to set out for another twenty minutes before we eat. Which answers your last question on what I made.”
“Beef or sausage in it?”
“Sweet sausage, with zucchini, spinach, red peppers and white cheese sauce.”
Archer’s jaw dropped. “I love cheese sauce.”
“I know,” she said.
Archer turned to Jayce. “I don’t like veggies, but if Mom drowns them in cheese I’ll eat anything.”
He laughed. “Good to know. But French fries are a veggie and you ate them.”
“That doesn’t count,” Archer said, frowning. “They are white. Anything white isn’t a veggie to me. If it’s green, blah.”
“Now you know Archer’s thought process on his diet. As I said, he’s allergic to peanuts. There isn’t anything in the house that would be bad for him.”
“Veggies are bad for me,” Archer said. “And beans. You say that because they make me fart really loud.”
“Oh God,” she mumbled, rolled her eyes and turned to walk out of the room.
Jayce laughed and followed her while Archer put the controllers away.
“He’s a character,” he said.
“Yes. I never realized how crazy it was to have a boy in the house until about two years ago. That’s when things really turned in this direction. My sister and I weren’t this bad.”
“Maybe not talking about farts,” he said. “But you always spoke your mind. I find that an attractive feature in a person.”
She turned and squinted one eye at him. Oops, maybe shouldn’t have said that, but he saw her eyes darken some. Maybe feeling a little of what he was. “Attractive?”
He shrugged. “Confidence looks good on everyone. It did on you back then and it seems you’ve still got it.”
“I wasn’t so sure there for a while,” she said. “But no, it’s not a good look on people who are arrogant.”
He wondered if that was the ex-husband or not.
Not sure how he could talk about that much with Archer around. He didn’t want to drill the kid either. That’d be a dick move.
“No,” he said. “Trust me, I’ve been around enough people like that.”
“At your last job?”
“Show me a room full of professional athletes and say more than half aren’t arrogant and I’ll sell this new bridge I’m building in the desert to you real cheap.”
She laughed and nudged his arm. “You haven’t lost that sense of humor either.”
“Nope. Sometimes that keeps me going.”
It was all he was going to say about his life.
He didn’t want to think he was a failure, but it sure the hell felt that way standing in this nice home in a higher end development that she’d most likely gotten in the divorce from her older doctor husband.
Had he looked up Dr. Tucker Lane? Yep, he had.
Age forty-one, so seven years older than him, now practicing in Wilmington. He’d always heard surgeons had a God complex and he was betting good money Farrah’s ex fit the description.
“I’m done,” Archer yelled, ran past them down a hall, then returned with sneakers on and three gloves in his hand.
“Oh, the laundry room,” she said. “It’s where I store a lot of things off the mudroom.”
He followed down the hall and popped his head in. “Damn. That’s a pretty nice laundry room.”
“Mom loves doing laundry. I don’t get it. Everything has to be sorted, washed and folded just right. It’s worse than sitting in school listening to her talk about it.”
He put his hand to the side of his mouth. “I might be more like you. Toss it in, turn it on, switch it over, dump it in a basket.”
“Oh, my heart,” she said, putting it toward her chest. His eyes followed the movement, maybe glancing over her breasts that were outlined at the same time. Not that he could avoid it. “Then you have to iron everything before you wear it. It’s twice as much work.”
“Or just throw it in the dryer again to get the wrinkles out. That works too.”
She covered Archer’s ears. “Don’t talk that blasphemy in my house,” she said, laughing.
Archer wiggled away and ran out the back door, the two of them following.
“I’m glad you’re still the same as I remember.”
She smiled at him, her long hair tied back in a ponytail that spilled over her back and caught the light. Her soft brown eyes glowed with a mischievous warmth, the very look that had filled the quiet corners of his dreams and left him aching for more when he woke.
He hadn’t felt this alive around a person in longer than he dared to think of.
The fact it was the woman whose kid he was voluntarily watching for a week only made it trickier.
There was part of him that knew he could work this to his advantage, but the other said she might not appreciate that.
So he’d be Archer’s friend and a responsible, reliable adult to Farrah.
Maybe it’d be the boring option, but it’d be the right one.
“I’m just being me,” she said. “Hope you’re doing the same.”
“It’s what I excel at,” he said, laughing.
“Let’s go!” Archer yelled. “You two are taking too long.”
“Guess I’ve been schooled.”
“Don’t let him boss you around,” she said. “I give him some rope because I remember being impatient and excited about things as a kid. And maybe it’s some guilt because he’s not allowed to be that way all the time.”
A breadcrumb maybe? He’d pick it up for a nibble.
“His father?”
She sighed. “Yeah. Long story. They rarely see each other and the cancellation of his Disney trip didn’t go so well.”
“I thought it was a postponement.”
“I’m not getting his hopes up in case it doesn’t happen.
This way if it does, he can get excited again.
For now, he’s happy he’s got some time with you.
There isn’t much more a mother could ask for than to see their child happy.
” She reached for his hand for a second, touched it briefly then dropped hers away.
“I can’t tell you how much I appreciate this. I’m not sure how to repay you.”
“Dinner is a start,” he said. “And maybe we can do it again this week, to make sure I know what I need to do for the following week.”
“We can do that,” she said, smiling softly. He read something in her eyes—he just wasn’t positive what it was exactly.