Chapter 28
Cienna
The ride back home was like being hotboxed with emotions.
Lust, confusion, fulfillment, and blips of joy ricocheted around the inside of the car.
Abi fell asleep within two minutes of exiting the parking lot.
That left Reed and me with stolen glances, grazing hands, the occasional exhale, and the soft sound of Kidz Bop in the background.
Reed eased the tension first. “So that was fun?” Hesitancy colored his voice, the words sounding more like a question than a statement.
“Honestly, it was pretty fun. I’d never been there. What a neat little spot.”
A smile lit up his face as he focused on the road. “Caroline brought me there a few times, but each time, it was like this secret little trip with Abi.”
“Well, thanks for including me in your adventure. I had a great day.” Something bold in me stirred, and I reached for his hand to give it a reassuring squeeze. Rather than pulling it back, I allowed Reed to flip his hand over and grab mine.
He gave it a returning squeeze. “It was a great day because of you.” All my senses were homed in on the feel of his hand holding mine. Just when I thought it was time to let go, he intertwined our fingers.
I turned to him with a shrug of modesty. “I like spending time with you both.” Internally, I added and kissing you. “You’re a great uncle, Reed. And Abigail is such a cool kid.”
The car was completely silent for the next few minutes, aside from a couple snores from Abigail.
I watched the trees whiz by, keeping my body as still as possible.
I didn’t want to give Reed any indication of movement or pulling away, fearful that he might let go.
Holding his hand, feeling the sweet graze of his thumb back and forth, was almost more powerful than any kiss we’d shared.
There was so much more behind this gesture than lips crashing in passion.
This was sweet, thought out—it was a lifeline for our chemistry.
A soft but vivid reminder that our feelings couldn’t be swept away by circumstance.
Reed cleared his throat, stirring me from my foggy bliss. “Cici, I want to respect your boundaries—” he started, keeping his eyes on the road, but his jaw was tight as he gripped the steering wheel, flexing the muscles in his stupidly sexy forearms.
“Reed… I…” Stammering, I needed to say something, but what? This was one of the best days I’d had since an insanely hot stranger made me feel brave enough to parasail. I wanted more days like this. I wanted more of him. I wanted all of him.
He continued. “I plaster on a smile all day long. I hide my real feelings so people don’t fuss or worry about the grieving brother or overwhelmed single parent.” He released his hand from the wheel to make air quotes, then returned his grip, fidgeting and rolling his fists around its curve.
“When I’m with you, that smile is fucking genuine.
You wake something in me every time I see you, and it’s the most wonderfully real thing I’ve felt in a long time.
Since I met you, since that tap on my shoulder months ago, the giddiness I feel when I am with you is so hard to contain.
” He brought my hand to his cheek and nuzzled it, and I practically purred into his touch.
“I don’t want another emotion to stifle. Not such a great one.” He placed a gentle kiss on my hand and then brought them back down, resting his elbow on the center console.
I heaved a big sigh, and Reed stiffened next to me, his fingers suddenly clinched.
“I’m sorry. I will ease up and just enjoy moments like this when I can get them,” he said with another squeeze and rub of his thumb.
Then his voice lowered to barely a whisper.
“Just know how very fucking badly I want you.”
I caught his grin before I faced forward again, staring at the road ahead. His hand still held mine in a loosened grip, and our fingers fell between each other’s naturally, like little squishy puzzle pieces zapping with sparks.
“I do want you. Reed, I thought of you all summer. Granted, some of those thoughts veered into villain territory. But still, all I could think about was that there was supposed to be more. There was supposed to be an us.”
Reed let my words settle between us, and neither of us said anything for the rest of the drive. He turned off the car engine, then brought my hand back up to his mouth, this time rubbing his nose along my wrist, surely feeling my pulse skyrocket, before he kissed my palm and released my hand.
He turned back to Abigail, still zonked out in the back, and huffed, “She’s fast asleep and hasn’t eaten anything but Goldfish and ice cream all day.” The man who was confident, leaving me panting through mere hand-holding, was now slumped over, defeat written all over his features.
I rubbed his shoulder, leaning into him from my seat. “Some days, we need all seven food groups, thirty minutes of exercise, and eight hours of sleep. Other days, we just need a meltdown, a tub of Ben and Jerry’s, and a twelve-hour nap.”
The soft fabric of his shirt slid against my hand as I moved it up and down his arm, and he groaned in approval. When I moved up to his shoulder again, he tilted his head back and released another loud breath. This one far less intense.
Suddenly, his head popped up, and he turned to me with a brow quirked. “Seven food groups?”
I squinted at him as if he was the one who had lost their mind and forgot about basic nutrition. Using my fingers, I listed, “Fruit, veggies, protein, dairy, grains, chocolate, and coffee.” I held up my fingers smugly. “See? Seven.”
He shook his head but gave no argument as he opened the car door and stepped out.
The rear door made a faint swoosh sound, and I watched from the front seat, thinking Abi might squirm and wake up, and I was ready to jump in and help. I eyeballed Cheeto to make sure I could reach the stuffed fox and hand her off if necessary.
Abigail was as droopy as a noodle as Reed easily undid her buckles and pulled her out and onto him. Her head flopped on his shoulder, and he brought a hand up and cupped her head with so much tenderness. He ducked down and peeked at me through the open door. “You okay?”
“Oh, yeah.” I blinked, beckoning my senses back to life. Clearly, I had been staring—or ogling, more like.
He tipped his head toward the front of the house. “Come in.”
It wasn’t a question or a demand. But his tone didn’t give me much of an option.
I reached back and grabbed Cheeto, then clambered out of the car, yanking my purse wedged between the seats.
Catching up as Reed opened the front door, I watched Abi’s peaceful face as he stepped inside.
Reed’s fatherly instincts made me swoon more than any swooniness I’d ever felt. Like, maximum swoonage.
The way his strong arms held her securely, with no effort at all.
How his hand gently braced her head each time he had to turn his body or dip down.
He turned and looked over his free shoulder.
“Should I wake her up to eat some dinner?” His lips were turned down in concern, and that tired defeat crept back into his eyes.
I wished he could see what I saw when he cared for Abigail.
I shook my head. “She’s had a long day, Reed. Let her sleep. It’s okay.”
His brows clumped together, so I approached him and rested my hand on his shoulder. I was close enough and so tempted to nuzzle against him and wrap my arms around him—and her—and give him the comforting touch he deserved so much.
“It’s okay. Not every day is going to be perfect. It’s much more important to listen to her needs than to plan out each check mark of the day down the list of perfect parenting.”
He released a heavy breath. “All right, I’m going to go tuck her in.”
Was this where we’d say good night? Was he going to try to kiss me goodbye?
With one arm, he easily held Abi, and the other gently gripped my arm. “Please stay?”
His longing eyes were so deeply fixed on me and my response. “Okay.” I bit my lip and placed my hand over his. “Go take care of her. I’ll be here.”
The relief on his face liquefied my insides.
He stared over his shoulder at me as long as he could before disappearing down the hall, like he was afraid I would turn and run if he didn’t keep an eye on me.
But puddles of goo couldn’t move, and all I could do was smile back until his frame was gobbled up by the hallway’s darkness.
Meandering to the couch, I flicked on a lamp and plopped onto the cushions, watching crumbs bounce at the impact.
As I lay in the quiet room, my head churned with thoughts and my body thrummed.
I wish I had a pad of paper, because the pros-and-cons list in my mind kept getting smudged and erased as emotions ebbed and flowed through me.
My heart was 100 percent there—had been since I fell hard on our cruise.
Was already there as I pined over him all summer.
And it was there when I laid eyes on him on the first day of school.
He had me. But he also had Abi. He had grief to process.
He had battles to fight, and as small in comparison as it sounded, I had an important promotion at stake. One that meant so much to me.
With the exhaustion of it all, I began nodding off a few times and eventually let myself snooze.
When I woke, I checked my phone, finding it had been an hour.
I slipped down the hallway and peeked into Abigail’s room.
She was fast asleep, her blanket tugged up to her chin, Cheeto and three other animal friends I’d never met tucked in on both sides of her.
Reed was sitting on the floor, his head resting on the bed, fast asleep.
His hand still reached out, holding Abi’s.
I realized two things as I stood in the doorway and took them in. First, Reed’s “Dad Energy” was far more dangerous than any flirtations or heated moments between us—even the oiled and shirtless ones.