Chapter 35
Reed
Down the street from the Spaghetti Factory, I turned my coffee cup in circles impatiently. Impatient for dinner to end, impatient for Cici to arrive, impatient for this whole mess to be over.
Footsteps approached, and before I even looked up, his signature scent infiltrated my nose. That repulsive musk of old-man cologne. I lifted my head, disgust fresh on my face, but said nothing.
“You never could sit still.” He looked at my busy hands, twisting the cup around. I brought the cup to my mouth for a long swig, glaring at him.
He met my stare without words. Just stood there, surely thinking he was a looming presence when, in reality, he was an annoyance. An annoyance that still squeezed my gut into a spasm.
I finally spoke, realizing this stare down wouldn’t end until he said what he needed to say. “I figured you’d be at the restaurant brainwashing my niece right now.”
He flinched so quickly I wouldn’t have caught it if my eyes hadn’t been locked on his. “We decided it’d be best for me to stay back. Not overwhelm Abigail. Too many people, new faces, all at once can be very overwhelming for a child.” One corner of his mouth lifted slightly. “Wouldn’t you agree?”
Just then, a tap on my shoulder lured my eyes from his.
She was like a breath of fresh air washing over me after the devil himself suffocated me with muggy heat.
Vanilla took over every bit of his pungent odor, calming my senses.
“Sorry I’m late. I went home and changed.
I’m going to put my coffee order in real fast.” She looked up at Bruce and gave him her warmest smile.
I didn’t miss the way he looked her up and down.
I took another swig of my coffee, glaring at him with a warning over my cup.
His glower told me everything I needed to know about his appraisal.
Stay the fuck away from her.
“Who’s your lady friend?”
“Hi, I’m Cienna.” Cici popped her hip and gave a little wave.
Casual Cici was a whole different level of hot from the professional version I saw most of the time.
This Cici wore shorts that showed off her creamy skin and fit legs.
Not too short, just enough to hint that there was more to enjoy, and boy was I ready to.
Her top hit just above her pants, and when she moved, a little bit of skin revealed itself.
My fingers twitched, remembering how soft and plump that skin felt in my hands. Like silk. Her neckline revealed a hint of cleavage that reminded me how much I wanted to claim what was further down that route.
Bruce’s gaze calculated every second I looked her way.
I was certain the affection was written all over my face, but I didn’t care.
Couldn’t stop it if I tried. She was here for me, and I wanted to touch her.
Wanted to snag that bit of skin at her waistline and yank her down to my lap.
Just a kiss. A taste. And then I could let her go and bask in the sunshine of her presence.
“It seems every time I see you, you’re caught up with a lady friend, Reed.” Bruce’s smirk was smarmy. “Some things never change.”
“You’ve seen me twice in the last ten years, Bruce, so I feel like your ratio of encounters is a little skewed for you to pass judgment.”
He retorted with a snort. Cici set her laptop on the table and placed her book bag in the chair next to mine. “With all due respect, sir—”
“He is due none of that,” I interjected.
Cici continued, “I’m not a lady friend. Mr. Marsh and I have PTA business to attend to.”
“Ah, yes. PTA.” Bruce looked Cici up and down and then stared back at me. “I knew those moms would flock your way.”
Coffee splattered on the table as I slammed my cup down.
Cici placed a hand on my shoulder, and Bruce’s eyes shot right to it. I knew it was a gesture of comfort from her, but it was all the fuel Bruce needed. His eyes flared with delight at whatever intel he thought he was glimpsing.
“Yes, well.” His eyes flicked from her hand to her midriff and then back to me. “I’ll leave you to your professional business.”
With that, he walked out.
“Well, he seems peachy.” Cici plopped in the chair, unfolding her laptop.
I rubbed my hands through my hair, tugging, seeking to release the tension.
“That was my stepfather,” I groaned, putting my hand on hers to ease the gruffness.
She rolled her hand over and held mine. “You doing okay?”
God, I wanted to pull her to me, bury my nose in her hair, touch her skin, hear her voice in my ear. But I knew Bruce was lurking. Slime like him didn’t dance its way to its next victim. It slithered.
“Go get your coffee, baby.” Where the fuck did the “baby” come from? I was not a pet-name guy, although I’d never really had a chance to determine that. I patted her hand, trying to act as naturally as possible.
Her eyes had widened slightly, but she squeezed my hand in return. “You need me more than I need coffee.”
Did she just say what I think she said? This woman lived for coffee.
It traveled through her veins, and I was certain her sweet, unique smell was actually a caramel macchiato dripping through her pores.
Without thought, I leaned in and kissed her.
When I pulled away, her lips followed, and she gave me one last nibble.
Fuck, I was falling. Her words, her presence, it was everything I needed during this fucked-up time.
But reality sank in as the sounds around us came back into focus. I darted my eyes around, tracking who might have seen us. Cici dropped her head as she muttered, “Shit.”
I wanted to reach out and reassure her, but each time I touched her in a public place, it was one more chance for us to be seen by someone who could use it against us. Her for her promotion. Me for Abigail.
After two hours of angst, coffee, and longing, Nina texted me to come back for Abigail.
She gave me no indication of how dinner went, but I still took in the first full breath I had all day.
I discreetly kissed Cici’s temple goodbye, promised to call her later, and headed to the Spaghetti Factory for the littlest of my two favorite girls.
When I entered the parking lot, Nina, my mother, and Abigail stood in front of the restaurant, right where I saw them last. I pulled into a spot and watched from my rearview mirror as Abigail hugged my mother, then held Nina’s hand.
The way my mother looked down at Abigail endearingly, hanging on her every word, struck a familiar chord in my heart.
A tiny pluck that stung behind my eyes and then was gone.
Abigail chatted animatedly as she and Nina walked back to the car. Her face was bright, and I could hear her little, excited voice as they approached. I stepped out and immediately leaned down and picked her up, squeezing her like I hadn’t hugged her in a decade.
Giggling, she tucked her head in my neck. She raspberried my cheek, and then I set her down, relieved to feel her happiness. It radiated from her freckled face and bubbly tone. I looked up at Nina for any feedback, and she looked down at Abigail as she asked, “Did you have a good dinner?”
Abigail nodded and looked up at me. “Me and Grandma and Nina all slurped, and I got sauce on my shirt, but it was okay. Grandma had a wipe to help me clean up.”
Wow. Okay. I tried to get the shock off my face. Nina patted Abi’s hair, the bow nowhere to be seen. Maybe we’d find it somewhere in her crazy bird’s nest later.
“I’ll let you get going.” She turned to me. “I’ll be phoning you later next week to set up the next visit.” Next visit. My stomach lurched with the reminder that we’d be doing this again.
“Grandma said we could go to the aquarium.” The word grandma swam through my head.
She called her that because she was now a person to Abigail.
Not a figure of her imagination, not a piece from my past that I could ignore.
No matter where this custody battle landed, Abigail had a grandma.
And so far, she seemed quite fond of her.
If only she knew the real woman who would be surfacing eventually.
I swallowed hard at the thought of brewing disappointment and resentment.
From the moment Abigail was in her seat, she talked nonstop about her dinner date.
Grandma said my skirt was really pretty.
Grandma said she also likes pink.
Grandma said Mommy liked pink when she was a little girl.
Grandma said I looked just like Mommy.
Oof. She did.
When we had ice cream, Grandma told me your favorite ice cream is pistachio. And she said she also thinks it’s yucky.
She did. She always made a face at me when I ordered it.
Abigail’s innocent retelling of her visit flooded memory after memory back into my mind. Sloshing around, leaving me nauseous as feelings flashed every which way. They were like mosquitoes, zipping in and out, sometimes tickling, sometimes stinging, but I could never swat them away fast enough.
Her excitement eventually crashed into exhaustion, and I carried her into her bed after she fell asleep next to me on the couch. I tucked the covers up to her chin and snuggled Cheeto up next to her. Down on my knees at her bedside, I brushed her hair from her face, then kissed her forehead.
Before I could stand, her eyes fluttered open, and she put her hands on my face, holding each cheek as I smiled. Before curling over and hugging Cheeto, she kissed my nose, then patted my mouth. “Grandma said I have your smile.”