Chapter 38
Thirty-Eight
Lainey
“Mom! Look!” I glance up from my laptop with a forced smile, putting my mental finger on the page to keep my spot.
“Wow, bud,” I tell him. “That’s awesome.”
What’s not awesome is having to put together a synopsis for a book I don’t want to write along with three chapters, again for a book I don’t want to write.
Oh, it’ll be fun when I actually get down to it.
The problem is that I don’t want to be thinking about anything except for The Book That Shall Not Be Written (But Is Being Written Anyway).
“Come play with me.”
“I will, bud,” I say, tapping out a few more words. “Let me just finish this sentence.”
“Moooom! Mom. Mom. Mom!” He times each mom with a bounce of his ball.
Mom. Bounce. Mom. Bounce. Mom. Bounce.
Overstimulated, much?
I exhale softly and close my eyes…then my computer.
“Let’s play for ten minutes. Then I really need to finish this, okay?”
We still need to go to the store—because, apparently, Ollie needs burgundy suspenders for tomorrow. Would it have been nice to know this before? Say, to have known it one to two days ago, like when a certain online retailer could have shipped them directly to my porch?
Absolutely.
Did Ollie’s teacher just send the paper with the dress code home with him this afternoon?
Yup.
Groaning to myself, I push up to my feet and catch the ball he bounces my way. “Four Square?” I ask.
“You know it!”
I grin at the glimpse of Smitty in my boy and dish my serve over to him on our makeshift Four Square court.
It’s nothing but some painter’s tape on the back deck.
But it does the trick for my newly Four-Square-obsessed kiddo.
Luckily, I have some Four Square skills myself.
He grunts as he hits the ball back to me and we have a fun little rally for a few minutes before he eventually misses and I score a point.
My lead only lasts for a couple of minutes because my boy is learning more than funny sayings (and curse words—and, okay, I may also be to blame for that considering my penchant for f-bombs while driving) from the men of the Grizzlies—he’s also picking up some of their competitive spirit.
He hits the ball in my direction and I miss.
And then we’re tied.
And then I’m behind.
And then…it doesn’t take ten minutes for my kiddo to wipe the court with me.
Panting slightly, I wipe my sweaty hands on my jeans and kiss him on the top of his head. “Okay, goofy goober, time for you to play by yourself for a bit while I finish this up.”
“All right,” he says, but it’s mopey.
And it makes my heart ache…and the Mom Guilt rears its ugly head.
I need to work to support us, to quite literally keep a roof over our heads.
But having to put playing with my kid on the back burner freaking kills.
Still, I do it, focusing back on the synopsis and managing to finish up a first draft of it when—
“Mom, I’m hungry!”
I curse under my breath. “All right, peanut. Five more minutes and then I’ll put it away.”
“But I’m hungry now!”
I close my eyes, exhale. Then put my laptop aside.
Clearly this isn’t going to work right now.
“Well, hangry monster,” I say, “how about we get you a small snack, take care of the errands we need to take care of, then get Molly’s for dinner?”
“Molly’s!” he shouts, beelining for the house.
A begrudging smile on my face as I trail him.
My work isn’t going to get done until my little monster’s in bed.
Not the first time. Not the last.
There’s a knock on the door as we make it to the kitchen and I detour to answer it, smiling when I see Sawyer through the window. “I thought I gave you a key,” I say as I swing open the wooden panel.
He frowns and pats his pockets before pulling out a keyring. “Right,” he says with a chagrined smile. “I forgot.”
Lifting on tiptoe, I brush my lips over his. “You look tired.”
“Nah,” he says. “Or no more than normal, anyway. Coach kicked our ass in practice. Clearly, my brain got a workout too.”
“Here I thought you were all brawn and no brain,” I tease. “Come in. I’m making Ollie a snack.”
“Ants on a Log?”
“No. Today it’s peanut butter toast with bananas. Want some?”
He smiles. “That actually sounds really good.”
“It is good.” I load up the toaster and when I turn back, it’s to see he’s already retrieved the peanut butter and is slicing bananas.
Fuck, I love this man.
I freeze, every cell in my body going taut as I wait for the terror to grip me, for the panic to take hold, like it had the other day.
But it doesn’t come.
Instead…there’s a sort of peaceful calm.
Like my body and heart had accepted the truth of those words before my mind could.
“Can I have a slice of banana?” Ollie asks.
Sawyer ruffles his hair and passes him a chunk.
“Mom and I are gonna get suspenders,” he says around the piece.
“Yeah?”
I stifle a sigh. “Last minute addition to tomorrow’s concert, apparently.” Our gazes lock. “Found out today.”
He winces.
“Yeah,” I mutter as the toast pops up.
“Then Mom and I are going to Molly’s,” Ollie says. “Wanna come?”
My lips twitch as I set the toast on three plates. Then curve further when Sawyer passes me the jar of peanut butter and a knife.
“Thanks,” I murmur.
He just kisses me on the cheek. “Anytime, Pages.”
Yup. So totally in over my head with this one.
And somehow…I can’t bring myself to care or to pull back or to throw up a hundred steel walls.
Because I love him.
“What’s that smile on your face?” he murmurs, his lips brushing the spot behind my ear.
I turn my head, kiss him lightly. “Later,” I say. “For now, I need to get those suspenders, pick up a present for Ollie’s classmate’s birthday party, get this starving child Molly’s, and then get back here so I can finish up some work for my agent tonight.”
“That’s a lot, Pages.”
“Hashtag Mom Life?” I say, piling banana slices on the toast and handing a plate to him.
A plate he immediately carries over to the table before he helps Ollie get settled in a chair.
Then he comes back to me and—
Maybe it’s the love, maybe it’s the way he lingers close to me as we eat our snack…
Maybe it’s that he’s been here time and again and again.
Either way, the request just slips out. “Is there any chance you could take Ollie—”
“Yes,” he says instantly.
“I haven’t finished asking.”
“I know, but I’ll do just about anything for you and Ollie.” A touch of his knuckles to my cheek. “Anything.”
My heart spasms.
“Sawyer—”
“Can I have more toast, Mom?”
Another brush of his knuckles, this time drifting down my throat. Then he’s turning to Ollie. “How about we save your appetite for Molly’s?” He scoops up the empty plate, sets it in the sink. “Because you and I are on a suspender hunt.”
I pick up the flier they sent home from school. “I haven’t had a chance to check inventory, but the school said—”
He snags the paper from my hands.
“We’ll figure it out, Pages. You just write.” A wink. “And if you’re good, I might even bring you home some Molly’s.”
I laugh.
And then the next moments are a flurry of activity as I do the dishes and Sawyer gets Ollie ready to go and they’re calling their goodbyes and I’m waving from the open front door.
I watch until Sawyer’s minivan disappears from sight.
Then close the door and flick the lock.
The house is quiet.
Too quiet.
Especially as I retrieve my laptop then walk down the hall and into my office.
As I sit down at my desk.
Then promptly grab my phone and start to dial Sawyer.
We’ll figure it out, Pages.
I exhale, set my phone down.
You just write.
Another breath before I open my laptop, lay my fingers on the keys.
And…the words just start flowing.
And don’t stop.
Not until I hear the front door open.
My pulse jumps, my gaze finally lifting from my computer screen, and I realize the sky has gone dark as I worked, that literal hours have gone by.
Oh, God, how long have I been in the zone?
I blink at the evidence on my laptop: synopsis finished, three chapters done, and a thousand words I hadn’t planned on writing in The Book That Shall Not Be Written.
Holy shit.
What if I missed a motion notification or—
“Moooom!” I hear as footsteps barrel down the hall and I exhale, heartbeat settling.
“Pages?” Sawyer calls. “You ready for us?”
I push up to my feet, round my desk, and get to the door just in time to catch Ollie in my arms, to see Sawyer a few steps behind him, bags from Molly’s in his hands.
“You have enough time?” he asks. “We can take this out back if you need more.”
Love in my heart. Affection in my soul.
I lean in, kiss him lightly. “No, handsome. This has been perfect.”
His expression warms me down to my toes. “Good. Ready to eat?”
“Yeah, thanks.”
“Guess what we found, Mom!” Ollie says as we walk back to the kitchen.
“What?” I ask.
Ollie looks to Sawyer and holds out his hands, as though saying, Load ’em up, Buster.
I gasp as Sawyer drops stuffed Ollie into his hands. “You found him?”
“No,” Ollie says. “But we found a temp—” His brow furrows and he looks up at Sawyer.
“A temporary replacement,” Sawyer finishes.
Ollie nods in agreement then waves the stuffed penguin’s fin in my direction. “Meet Holly, Ollie’s sister.”
Oh, yeah.
I so totally love this man.