12. David
DAVID
On Thursday evening, I mount the steps to my mother’s front porch. As I hit the top step, her front door swings open and she steps out to greet me.
“Well, hi,” she says, smiling.
I lean in and kiss her cheek. “You don’t seem surprised to see me.”
“Why would I be?”
I start to answer but I don’t have a good response. We all stop by without notice all the time. I shake my head. “I guess you wouldn’t be surprised . But you seem to have been expecting me.”
She gives me another smile, this one slyer. “I was.”
I nod. “Because Jack told you I would be stopping by.”
She laughs. “Actually, Jack just told me that Mia was stopping by. Charlie said that meant you’d be here too.”
I sigh. I shouldn’t be here. It is my mother’s house and I do stop by routinely, but tonight, I’m here because Mia is here. I won’t lie to myself about that. Or to my mother. But I shouldn’t be here because of her.
“You don’t seem surprised by that either,” I say to my mom.
“That you came out here because Mia Hansen is here? Should I be surprised by that?”
“Maybe?” Mia and I have never really spent time together before. Why does everyone seem to think this is so obvious?
“You’re an incredibly intelligent person. Mia is wonderful. I’m not at all surprised that you realize that.”
I shake my head. “I shouldn’t be…seeing her.”
My mom studies my face for a moment. “Well, you can’t really help it if she’s at your mother’s house when you stop by,” my mom says, tucking her hands into the back pockets of her jeans.
I narrow my eyes. “I mean, I shouldn’t be dating her.”
My mom gives a light chuckle. “If just running into her at your parents’ house, hanging out with your brother, riding four-wheelers, and painting nails with your nieces is your idea of a date, I’m not really surprised you’re still single.”
I open my mouth, then shut it as her words, tone, and expression sink in.
Charlie filled her in completely. Not just that I might be interested in the fact that Mia would be here and might be stopping by, but the entire plan.
That Mia is making up reasons for us to run into each other.
That it’s supposed to seem casual. That we’re essentially sneaking around behind her father’s back.
My mom is now in on it.
“I guess it’s not completely out of the realm of possibility that I would run into her here,” I say.
My mom lifts her shoulder. “She is the librarian helping your brother with what he needs to put together a birthday party for his daughter. And you’re a good uncle.
Who would care about that birthday party.
Seems to me you’re both just very nice people.
And I like to invite very nice people to stay for dinner at my house. ”
Yep, she knows all about it. And evidently, approves. Of course she does. There is absolutely nothing about Mia Hansen that any parent would disapprove of.
Me on the other hand…
Then the rest of what my mother said sinks in.
“Wait, riding four-wheelers?” Surely Mia didn’t tell them all about our conversation about four-wheelers and dirt bikes.
“The girls took her and Sloan out. They couldn’t wait to show them how to ride when Sloan told them that Mia has never driven a four-wheeler before.”
Wow, I don’t have to worry about other men horning in. It’s my own adorable nieces getting in the way of me getting Mia dirty in new-to-her ways.
Just then, as if on cue, I hear the sound of four-wheeler engines in the distance.
“Those girls are always on time for dinner,” my mom says.
I chuckle despite myself. “Who’s cooking?”
She sticks her tongue out at me. “Jack.”
My mother is good at a number of things. Cooking is not one of them.
My brother isn’t awesome , but he’s okay and he’s really trying.
It’s one of his goals to start making meals that his daughters remember and enjoy.
He did help with cooking before his wife died, though he did not do the bulk of it.
He handled things like pasta night and taco night.
And apparently, he’s great at putting chicken nuggets and fish sticks in the oven.
Anything dealing with sautéing, roasting, or baking fell to Kaitlyn though.
My mom turns and heads back inside, probably to lend her help to Jack—and she’s not a bad sous chef—but more likely to give me a chance to take in the sight that drives into her front yard.
It’s very possible that my mom knows exactly how the sight of Mia riding a four-wheeler, her grin huge, her cheeks flushed, her hair tousled and falling around her shoulders as she pulls the helmet off her head, will hit me low and hard in the gut.
My mom and dad are madly in love. They are romantic, there’s no question. And my mom has always found my dad sexy on a dirt bike.
Not that I’m thrilled to know that, and I certainly don’t encourage her talking about it, but she has shared that information with us, like it or not, on more than one occasion.
Almost worse, my dad has explained how much he loved teaching my mom to ride dirt bikes, and how sexy it was to have her get interested in something he loved so much.
Now I totally get it.
I would’ve loved to have been there when Mia first climbed on, but it doesn’t take away from how fucking gorgeous she looks now climbing off of a four-wheeler after her first ride.
The huge smiles and giggles from my nieces add to the emotion of the moment.
How can I feel so incredibly turned on by Mia and so warm and happy looking at Chelsea, Ray, and Del at the same time?
These girls have been through so much sadness and heartbreak over the past few months, and seeing them happy right now, with this woman who has been making me so happy over these past few days, sends a jolt of endorphins to my system that I can’t deny.
“Uncle David!” Del calls when she spots me.
Mia’s head snaps around and our gazes collide.
“Hey, kid,” I say as Del runs up the steps to me. I catch her and hoist her up for a hug.
“Are you here for dinner?”
“I am.”
“We’re going to paint our fingernails!” she exclaims.
“No way.”
“Yeah! Mia and Sloan are going to help!” She shoots a grin over her shoulder at the two women who are approaching the porch now. Del lowers her voice. “Grandma isn’t good at nails, but Sloan is super good so we’re going to practice with her.”
I nod, unable to look away from Mia. Sloan Bennett is a gorgeous, confident, sweet woman. But she could have been approaching bare naked, or wearing a giant clown head, and I wouldn’t have noticed.
“That sounds great,” I tell Del, eyes locked on Mia.
“I know ,” Del gushes. “We get to do manicures for Chelsea’s birthday but we need to practice! Daddy says we’re going to do all of it !”
Charlie’s text had said, Mia and Sloan are going to Mom’s tonight to do manicures with the girls to practice for C’s bday. In case you find that interesting.
I hadn’t responded. But I had found it very interesting.
Obviously.
I know pretty much nothing about manicures.
I have no idea what ‘all of it’ means.
But I do know that Jack probably doesn’t know much more than I do and I know he will want to do whatever he can to make his daughter’s first birthday without her mom as good as he possibly can.
If Sloan and Mia are willing and able to help, I will be so fucking grateful.
I might just have to kiss one of them for it.
Del starts squirming and I let her down.
“Hi, David!” Chelsea, or maybe it’s Ray, says running past me into the house.
“Hey,” I greet.
“Hi, David,” Sloan says.
“Hi,” I return.
At least, I think it was Sloan. Fuck it could have been literally any other female on the planet. I don’t even look. I barely register her voice.
I’m staring at Mia.
She’s stopped in front of me on the porch.
My nieces have run past her. Sloan—or whoever—has walked past and into the house.
Now we’re just standing here, on the porch, the two of us, staring at each other.
“Hi,” Mia says.
“You let someone else take you for your first ride.”
Her cheeks get even pinker than they were from the adrenaline and wind. She tucks a strand of tousled hair behind her ear. “Your nieces are irresistible.”
They are. I can’t really blame her.
Fuck, I want to kiss her so badly.
I’ve been replaying our kiss from Friday night over and over. It was, hands down, the best kiss of my life and that is a big problem.
But I want another.
“I guess I don’t need to show up at the party tomorrow night now,” I say.
Instead of looking disappointed or saying anything—or begging me to come tomorrow night—she gives me a half smile and says, “I guess I’ll have to find someone else to help me set up my tent.”
Then she turns on her heel and sashays into my mother’s house.
I stare after her.
Tent?
There’s going to be a tent?
Is that a euphemism for something else?
But I don’t think it is. I think Mia Hansen is going to camp out at the river. Probably for the first time. She probably bought a tent just for this.
And probably has no clue how to set it up.
There is no fucking way anyone else is going near her tent.
Even if it is a euphemism.
And as I follow her into the house, I realize that she knew I was going to show up here tonight.
Just like she knows I’m going to show up tomorrow night.
I sigh.
Should I just accept that I’m wrapped around her little finger now or should I put up a little more resistance?
Like thwart her tent plan tomorrow night?
I grin as I hear her laughing with my nieces as they set the table, and feel the sound and moment reach into my chest and wrap around my heart.
Oh yes, I’m going to thwart her tent plan.
But…I’m also very much wrapped around her little finger.