46. Christopher
forty-six
The next few weeks, I mull over what Lynn said. And I know she’s right.
As I walk into the den after closing down the bakery, my insides go soft and fuzzy at the sight of Skye cuddled on Alexandra’s lap. Instead of occupying the couch, they’re huddled together in one of the armchairs, and they look like the poster for happiness. Alexandra lets Skye play with her phone, and she strokes her hair gently, as if she’s been doing that forever. I’ve never been caught in quicksand, but I can bet this is how it feels. Fearing that any move would put me deeper in trouble.
This thing that comes from Alexandra, it’s tenderness, and it looks a lot like love to me. And, fuck, it’s powerful.
I take it all in.
They both look up at me at the same time, flooring me even more.
Skye flashes a gap-toothed grin at me, and I smile back at the two of them, until Alexandra’s soft, piercing gaze is too much for me to handle, and I break it.
As I reach to grab my jar of Maple butter from Skye—I don’t know why we still bother putting our name on the lids—Alexandra slides off the armchair and goes into the bakeshop.
“Alek-zandra, what are you doing?” Skye shrieks in my ear, making me jump.
“I have to transcribe some notes from today’s work.”
“Oooooh, nooooo,” Skye said, rolling her eyes.
Alexandra’s craftsmanship might be wobbly at best, but her theoretical knowledge is impeccable. And I’m not pushing her to master the practical side of baking, because despite my grandiose speech to her the night of her arrival, I know she’ll never be a baker, and that’s all right.
In a few days, she’ll take her baking exam, administered by a French baker currently working in Montpelier. The way the exam is structured, with a grade close to perfect on theory and a decent grade in practice, she’ll pass. That’s all we need. Her and me both.
For reasons that don’t make fucking sense.
“How about you and I go to Justin’s, let Alexandra finish her work, huh?” I say to Skye.
Skye pretends to huff. “I guess,” she says.
“What’s the matter? You don’t want to go to Justin’s, now?”
“Only if Alek-zandra comes, too.”
“I’ll meet you there!” Alexandra says from the bakehouse. “I just need an hour.”
We slide into Skye’s favorite booth, the one at the front where she has easy access to Moose—who is relegated to the very entrance of the pub—and a prime view of the front door, the kitchen door, and the bar. She likes to wave to people, and she keeps tabs on everyone’s comings and goings.
My daughter is turning into the next gen gossip, but somehow, I find that adorable.
“Grilled cheese?” Justin asks her, though there’s no reason to. I don’t think she’s ever had anything else here.
Skye nods with a big smile. “And—”
“And French fries, of course. How about you, man?”
“I’ll have a Sip Of Sunshine while I wait for Alexandra. Are you going to join me?”
“Of course.”
I look out the window to my bakery, where Alexandra is working.
I wonder what will happen to her if she doesn’t pass her exam. Which I don’t think there’s a chance she doesn’t. But still.
Would she lose her job?
Would she still want to go back to New York? She would. There’s no way it’s only work keeping her there.
I’d have to pay off the grant I received within a year. It would be hard, financially. Still doable. But it’s not in my hands anymore.
Skye leans over the table and tugs at my cheeks.
“What are you doing?” I chuckle, pushing her hands gently off my face.
“Smile, Daddy!” She comes over to my side of the booth and tries tickling me.
“Okay, okay.” I grin.
She sits back next to me and crosses her arms. “What’s the matter with grown-ups?”
“Why?”
“Grown-ups are either sad or worried. Sometimes, angry.”
“Who’s worried and angry?”
“Miss Hen-der-son was angry this morning with No. Reason. At. All.” She pauses to waive to a friend skipping on the sidewalk. “And Alek-zandra was worried.”
“Hm. What was Alexandra worried about?”
She shrugs. “Some people in New York.”
What else is new. Why won’t she let me help her? Why won’t she just stay here?
“And you look sad,” she adds, poking at my chest and frowning.
“I’m sorry. I’m not sad; I really am not. I am the happiest daddy on earth.” I kiss her tenderly, and she snuggles in my embrace. “How could I be sad with you as my daughter? Sometimes, grown-ups are complicated.”
I tried to protect Skye by not having a real relationship with Alexandra, but she’s getting hurt, anyway. What am I supposed to do?
“Caroline is getting baptized,” Skye says out of the blue.
“Is that right?” Did Emma mention something about that? Come to think about it, she might have.
She nods. “She gets to choose her godmother and godfather, because she is old enough.”
I don’t know much about how these things work, so I settle for a grunt. “That’s good. Is she excited?”
Justin comes over with her grilled cheese and fries and two pints of beer. He sits silently across from us.
“If I asked Alek-zandra to be my godmother, would she have to stay here forever?”
Justin cocks an eyebrow, suppressing a smile.
“What do you mean?” I ask, genuinely puzzled as to how my daughter’s brain works but still seeing where this is going. Fast.
“Daddy,” she huffs. She might as well have said, Get with the program. “A godmother replaces your mother in case yours dies. So, if Alek-zandra was my godmother, she’d have to stay here, right?”
Oh. Shit. How am I supposed to answer that? There are so many ways her little heart could break again with my answer. “I don’t think that’s how it works,” I say carefully. “Also, being baptized is—I’m pretty sure it’s not just about having a godmother and godfather. I think you have to go to mass and stuff. And Sunday school.” That’s a cop-out, but what else can I say?
Skye’s eyes dart outside toward where the church is, at the end of The Green. “Oh,” she says quietly. She frowns and tilts her head, then starts picking at her fries.
I might be out of the woods, but my kid is hurting, and I fucking hate that.
“Well, that was interesting,” Justin says once Skye finishes her food and goes to pet Moose. “I wonder how long it’s going to take that little brain to realize all it’ll take to keep Alex in Emerald Creek is for her father to take her to church.”
“Not all women want a ring on their finger.” But the thought of her wearing my ring, using my name, does all sorts of things to me.
“You’re not really going to let her go, are you?”
I have nothing to say to that. I look out the window to the trees now full and green. To the window boxes at the bakery. It was Alexandra who arranged them this year, a colorful bunch that match her nature.
“What’s holding you back?”
The stab in my chest every time she tells me no. “She can’t stay.”
“Bullshit. She’ll stay if you give her a reason to.”
News flash: I’m not a good enough reason to stay here. “I’m not going to take her to church, it that’s what you mean.”
“Look, man,” he says, his voice low so no one can hear us. “I know you swore off women after what… that bitch did to you. But you need to get out of that funk. You need to see what’s right in front of you. Don’t you see how she’s good for you? And for Skye? Since she’s been here… you’re… you’re alive again. And your kid? Are you thinking about your kid?”
“Yeah, I am.” I’m angry that he’s lecturing me. “That’s why we were never supposed to be anything.”
“Don’t.”
“Don’t what?”
“Don’t pretend that this is nothing.”
“It is nothing.” Despite what I’ve decided already, it’s near impossible for me to talk feelings with Justin.
“I thought you were better than that. If I had a woman like her, if she’d look at me the way she looks at you, hell… I’d never let her go. I’d have proposed already. Hell, I’d probably have a bun in her oven already. Look at her.”
Alexandra is stepping out of the bakery, making a beeline for the pub, her short dress flowing around her, showing her toned legs, cinching her waist. My heart stops, and I avert my gaze.
“Don’t you talk about her like that.”
“What? You said you didn’t care about her. You talked trash about her. Now you have a problem?”
“I didn’t—”
Anger flares from his eyes. “You said she was nothing to you. Look at her, and tell me you won’t do what it takes to keep her.” He gathers our empty glasses and stands.
Alexandra is steps from the pub’s outdoor terrace. She smiles to no one in particular, just happy to be here. Sauntering toward me. She has this aura of happiness, of goodness, that’s above and beyond all the sexiness she radiates.
“You don’t fucking deserve her, man,” he says before making his way back to the bar. Easy for him to say that. He can have anyone he wants.
I ball my fists at him, ready to pounce, the rage I thought I’d tamed years ago suddenly springing back to life inside me.
Alexandra swooshes inside the pub, and Justin grabs her by the waist with his free hand, pulling her against him and giving her a long kiss on the cheek. He whispers something in her ear, and she laughs then makes her way to me, long hair flowing, cheeks rosy, eyes shining for me.
During dinner, I let her do most of the talking. She’s excited about her friend, Sarah, coming. Tomorrow, she’ll be going to Burlington to meet her, and they’ll spend some time there. By the time they get back, I’ll be gone for the competition, and that will bring us to when she takes her exam and no longer has any reason to stay here. Even though she said she’d ask for an extension of her stay, it’s the end.
Tonight could be our last night together, just the two of us.
I think back to what Craig and Lynn told me when we were there for Mother’s Day, and what Justin said, just now.
They’re right. It’s past time for me to get my head out of my ass and do something.
I’ll open up to her. I’ll tell her I love her.
She’ll say it back.
And, then, we’ll figure it out.
Once I know what’s so important in New York, I can work out a way for her to stay here. Or lay it to rest—there’s always that possibility. But, at least, I’d know.
I’d know what was so much better over there than right here in my arms.
Because god knows, when I make love to her, she’s all mine, and there’s nowhere else she’d rather be.
That night, I slide into her bedroom like a thief. It’s been unusually hot all day, and her window is open, letting some fresh air cool her skin. She’s splayed naked on her bed, sheets pushed aside, her hair fanned around her beautiful face.
I cup her cheeks and whisper, “I love you.”
I’ve never said I love you to a woman.
It’s fucking scary. Because I really mean it. I love her. And I want to show her my love every day of my life.
Shower her in gifts and kisses.
Take all her scars and all her secrets and make them mine.
Name my bakery after her.
Build a house up in the mountain for us.
Grow a garden for her and Skye.
Have a child with her.
“I love you,” I say again, and she stirs. I blow on her skin, from her breastbone to between her legs, and back up. Then I trail my tongue down the same path and stay down at her middle, parting her folds. Her fingers find my head, and I feel her clit swell to life.
I stand to kick my boxer shorts off and meet her hooded gaze. She lowers her eyes to my erection, while her hands trail down between her legs.
I growl and lower myself to her, needing to take her.
Needing to make her mine.
I clasp her wrists and move her hands above her head, then claim her mouth with mine. Her tongue welcomes me, takes me in, while she writhes her soft body against me. Her breasts push up against my chest, and sweat clings our skins together. The musky scent of our bodies fills the air. I move my mouth away from hers to take in her beauty before I lose myself in her. Moonlight gives her skin an eerie glow, as if this were a dream.
In some ways, it is.
“Take me, now. Please,” she says.
Her begging almost sends me over the edge, and I do what she says—I take her. She wraps her legs around my hips to pull me closer. “Harder,” she asks, her panting telling me she’s close already.
“I won’t last long if I go harder,” I warn her.
“Please,” she cries out, and I ram into her, knowing that her asking me to fuck her harder means she’s on the verge of orgasm.
And so am I.
As our bodies chase their collapse together, her sucking me in, I want to cry it out loud—I love you. Instead, I bury my face in her neck, wrap her hair in my hand, and swallow a sob.
I cannot let go of her.
I cannot lose her.
As soon as she comes undone under me, I let myself go, and we ride our orgasms together, clinging to each other, giving and taking, being one.
After her last tremor subsides, I slide onto the bed and wrap her in my arms. Despite the heat, she takes my favorite after-sex pose, nudged against me, her head on my shoulder, one leg wrapped across my body, her middle against my hip. My arm keeps her tight against me. I wait for her to fall asleep with her mouth open, her tiny snores like purrs lulling me to sleep as well.
But, this time, something feels different. She’s sticky.
“Shit!” I push her away from me, like that’s going to make any difference. “Fuck, Alexandra, I wasn’t wearing a condom. I don’t know what I was thinking.”
“You weren’t thinking.” She smiles, her voice raspy. “That’s the whole point of l—sex, right?” She pulls me back around her. “I’m on the pill; don’t worry.”
I’m totally fucking awake and in near panic. I try to sit up, but she won’t let me. “Well, we should get tested. Also, you should take a pregnancy test.” I run my free hand through my hair. “Just in case.”
“Um. Okay, sure.” She rubs her eyes and looks at me, squinting. “You need to get tested?” she says, hurt suddenly registering in her eyes. “I guess… I guess we didn’t get too much into our histories. I was under the impression… Well, I mean, I shouldn’t have assumed… Right… Also, I mean, you don’t need to worry too much about me. Should I be worried?” There’s a little shock there, a hurt that’s not just about the remote risk of an STD. “Like I said, I’m on the pill, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
Her face is falling apart.
I lean over and pull her in my arms. I’m such a jerk. “Come here, beautiful. I’m sorry. This came out all wrong. I just—I just didn’t think I’d lose control like that. I’m supposed to always be doing the right thing, and I didn’t. But, tonight, seeing you like that, I needed you.”
“I needed you too,” she murmurs. She relaxes in my arms, and I do too.
“God, you felt so good, Alexandra. I’ve never had sex without protection, and it was—It was magical.”
A playful grin plays on her lips. “Liar.”
“It was, I swear! Couldn’t you feel the difference?”
“Technically, you must have had unprotected sex at least once in your life… Skye?”
It takes me a moment to understand what she’s saying, and when I do, it’s a punch in the gut. “One too many drunken parties during a summer with too many parties. I have no memory of that. Might have been a faulty condom, for all I know.”
“Well, that’s a shame. Or maybe not. I’m your first naked sex partner,” she says, cuddling inside my arms.
“You’re more than that, beautiful.”
She lifts her face to me, and I read hope in her eyes.
I kiss her lips lightly. “So much more,” I say against her mouth.
“Christopher,” she murmurs against my mouth, her body snuggling tighter against mine.
I pull back from her, hold her chin in my fingers so she’s looking at me when I say, “I love you, Alexandra.”
Her body jerks and she shuts her eyes briefly. When she reopens them, I read a mix of emotions. Did I come on too strong? Too fast? Too late? But how am I supposed to tell her I love her? What is going through her mind right now? I don’t want her to feel pressure. “You don’t have to say anything.” I dip my head to kiss her again, going for a light kiss, but my heart starts beating like crazy, and I pull her closer to me, kissing the hell out of her, as if it’s our last kiss. She kisses me back, wrapping her thighs tighter around me, fisting my hair in her hands, showing me with her body what her mind can’t express.
It’s not our last kiss.
That answer can tide me over. I pull us gently apart, needing to have some sort of closure over what just happened. Some sort of plan. “We have a lot going on, you and me. You have your exam. I have the competition. We don’t need heavy conversations right now.” I rub my nose against hers, and a soft smile spreads across her face.
“Just promise me we’ll have a talk after all this is over. After your exam, after my competition. But before you go back to New York.”
She’s full on smiling right now, a fucking sunshine, and she gives me a full body squeeze. “I promise.”