Chapter 13
THIRTEEN
Chloe
Every time the ref blows the whistle, Miles cringes and rubs at his temples. He holds his own through yelling instructions and encouragement at the players, but it looks like that whistle might be the death of him. The man looks seriously hungover.
“Holy shit, Chloe. I can’t believe you’re okay with Jake playing this game. It’s brutal,” Kate says as Jake flings the ball to the player behind him, getting thrown to the ground seconds later.
“It looks worse than it is,” Jack mumbles, stalking to the edge of the field. He cups his hands around his mouth and yells, “Let’s go, Triplett. Push, push.”
I snicker and shake my head. “Is that what he’s like in the delivery room?” I pat Kate’s baby bump and coo, “Don’t worry, baby. Auntie Chloe won’t let Daddy yell at your mama like that.”
“You don’t scare me,” Jack tosses over his shoulder at me.
I bark out a laugh. “That right there is some bullshit. I remember you practically hiding behind Dallas when you wanted to stay in a hotel on leave instead of with us.” I let out a low series of chicken clucks.
Jack smirks and fits himself in behind Kate, spreading his hands across her belly. “And it was the best decision I ever made.” His sweet declaration is cut off as the ball is tossed to Jake, who runs it in to score.
“Touchdown,” Kate cheers as Jack lets loose a shrill whistle.
“Yeah, it’s called a try in rugby.” I bump Kate with my shoulder, happy just to have her here for a visit. I miss my friends desperately.
When the game is done, Jake bounces over to us, dirty and sweaty and as happy as he can be. “Uncle Jack, did you see that? Did you see me score?”
I love that he still bounces like this when he’s excited. It’s one of those things I was afraid he’d grow out of before I was ready.
“Aunt Kate, is Hays here? The twins? Hoe my glob , are you having another baby?” He screws his face up and adds, “Gross,” under his breath.
“I am,” Kate says at the same time that I scold, “Jacob, what did you say?”
“What? You said I’m not allowed to say oh my God , so I changed it.” He shrugs and reaches for Jack. “Uncle Jack, you have to come meet my coach, Miles. He’s the best, seriously. He fixed Mom’s plumbing. And Bronson dances for him, just like he did for Dad.” He jogs away from us, Jack trailing behind.
“Well now, he’s seen to your plumbing. Is that code or…” Kate might be grinning at me from ear to ear, but the look Jack’s throwing me is filled with all kinds of promises to discuss this later.
“Literally, my bathroom plumbing. That’s it.” I open the back door of my car and spread a towel on Jake’s seat. It’s not the dirt that concerns me; it’s the sweaty-boy smell and my upholstery.
“Oh, he’s the one who changed out your handheld. Maybe he needs to make up for that little snafu.” She waggles her brows at me and turns toward her husband and Miles sandwiching Jake as they approach. “Sweet mother of God,” she says under her breath.
And she’s not wrong. Those two broad, badass men flanking my young son are enough to make ovaries explode everywhere.
“Aunt Kate, this is Miles. He’s my coach and Mom’s plumbing friend.”
Jake has got to quit saying that.
“It’s an absolute pleasure to meet you, Miles. I’ve heard so much about you,” Kate drawls, letting her Mississippi roots show.
Miles smiles warmly and takes Kate’s hand. “Good things, I hope.”
“Only the best.”
At that, Jack scowls, and I have a sudden urge to buy some hip waders with the way Kate has shit piling up.
“You doing okay?” I ask Miles, shifting closer to him. It’s been a few days since I’ve seen him, and I realize I’ve missed him.
“Good enough, considering the amount I drank last night. Do you have an extra sports drink or water?”
I rifle through the bag in the back of my car and hand both Miles and Jake plastic bottles.
“You go out drinking like that often?” Jack ask, his brows pulling in tight.
After dealing with my dad and his protectiveness, Miles doesn’t seem at all fazed by Jack’s interrogation. He shakes his head and drains the sports drink. “No, man. Just went out with my SEAL buddy, Chance. Really wish I had declined and come by Chloe’s instead. I definitely would’ve made a better first impression.” He bows his head and chuckles.
“Not another Chance.” Kate laughs as Jack mumbles, “Jesus.”
Miles cocks a brow and looks to me for an explanation.
“Kate’s ex who’s now completely out of the closet,” I tell Miles. “It only took him three years to tell his parents?” I add and Kate nods her agreement.
“We’re going to go get a late lunch, you want to come with us?” I turn to Miles as he eyes the empty bottle in his hand.
He shifts and pushes a hand through his hair. “I think I need to shower and sleep a little,” he says, looking embarrassed.
“Come by later, then. We’ll be hanging out tonight. Nothing big.” Without thinking, I lean up on my toes and brush a kiss on the edge of his mouth.
His warm hand settles on my hip. A throat clears behind me, and when I turn, Kate’s smile takes over her face. Jack looks like he could have a stroke. But Jake, his shy smile is the only thing that matters to me.
Miles squeezes my hip once before extending the same hand to Jack. “Great to meet you. Glad you got to see Jake play. Enjoy lunch. I’ll catch up with you later, okay?”
Ice rattles against the glass as Kate stirs a splash of cranberry juice into her seltzer. She tucks her feet between the cushions of the couch and sighs dramatically. “This really needs a big splash of tequila. And a whole lot less of the seltzer and no cranberry. I just want tequila.”
I almost feel bad, sipping on the Paloma she so lovingly crafted for me. Honestly, I think she made it just so she could sniff the ingredients. And maybe lick her fingers.
“Sorry.”
“No. No need to apologize. Two years with no Patrón is a small price to pay for…” Kate dismissively waves her hand in the air. “Fuck that, it sucks. I’m going to have to live vicariously through you again, so let’s move on to the fun stuff. How big is his dick?”
I blink slowly, sure that my dear, sweet friend did not just ask me that. I glance toward the stairs to make sure that Jake hasn’t strolled down for a glass of water, and then to the back door to see that neither Jack nor Miles heard from out on the patio. I suck back my entire drink. The tequila burns, and the grapefruit juice pulls my lips into a serious pucker.
I choke out, “What?”
“Come on, Chloe. The man has been all up in your plumbing, hasn’t he?”
“Don’t be silly, Kate. No. Just my actual plumbing.” My right shoulder pops in a shrug. “He’s nice. He just…” My gaze drifts to where he sits outside with Jack. His profile lit by the soft glow of the streetlights behind him. I love that they’re talking, getting to know each other. Miles has done a lot for me. The way he’s connected with Jake. How he takes care of the little things that, to me, would be huge. “He’s a friend.”
“A friend you should totally get naked with. I mean, did you see him in those tiny shorts he was wearing earlier? They barely fit around his thighs, and they sure as hell didn’t do much to hide what he’s packing.” She laughs.
There’s nothing I can say to that; she’s not wrong. Miles has strong, thick thighs and muscle padding his shoulders and chest. His back tapers in a V that’s quite possibly the most delicious thing I’ve ever seen. It might even be better than the V cut into his hips, but I only caught a hint of that one.
“Chloe? You have?—”
“Nope,” I tell her crisply.
“Sweetie, I thought you said you were ready. Did something happen to change your mind?” Kate does her best to lean toward me, but she ends up flopping back into the corner of the couch, her hand on her bitty baby bump.
A loud crack sounds as I bite down on an ice cube, my head tilting side to side. “No. It’s just been a really long time, you know? And, I’ve totally been a one-man woman.”
“Right,” Kate says, nodding. “But you want to, right? The opportunity has presented itself.”
“It has.”
Jack throws his head back laughing and Miles turns, catching my eye as he smirks.
“And you’re ready otherwise? Aside from the nerves about getting back on the horse?”
My brows pop high, and I purse my lips. Miles mimics my expression, and when my gaze flits back to Kate, I don’t miss the approving look from Jack.
Light from the screen of Kate’s phone casts a soft glow as she taps at the screen. “There. You have a waxing appointment in the morning. We’ll take Jake to get doughnuts to celebrate before we hit the road.” She taps her screen and then drops her phone to her lap as mine buzzes on the coffee table.
“What the hell, Kate?” I say, glancing at the notification. “Puss ’n’ Pits? You scheduled a Brazilian for me at a place called Puss ’n’ Pits?”
She pushes to her feet and stretches. “It has great reviews. I’m sure it’ll be fine, but life’s an adventure, right? How bad can it be?” She snickers as the guys come through the door. “I’m exhausted from growing your spawn. Will you take me to bed?” she asks Jack, batting her lashes.
Jack wastes no time getting to his wife. He threads his fingers through her hair and cups her face reverently. “I would love nothing more,” he says, before kissing her soundly, almost embarrassingly. But when Jack fell in love, he fell wholeheartedly. “Miles, it was great talking with you. Chloe, we’ll see you in the morning.” He shakes hands with Miles and hugs me tight, whispering, “He’s a good guy.”
Miles and I watch the couple climb the stairs, leaving us alone.
“How was your interrogation?” I ask, leading Miles away from the foot of the stairs.
He steps into my space, crowding me. “I’ve been through worse, but I’m pretty sure I at least improved on my first impression.” His fingers ghost along my skin as he pushes one of my curls off my forehead.
I want him to kiss me. The quick peck this afternoon is not enough.
Miles dips his head, but instead of his lips brushing mine, he sighs. “I think I owe you an apology.”
“Why?” That’s generally one of those phrases that doesn’t lead to good things, like “It’s not you, it’s me,” or “We should talk.”
He bites his bottom lip and stares past me mumbling, “Jesus, this is embarrassing.” Finally, he meets my eyes. “I might have screwed up when I fixed your shower. I… uh, shouldn’t have assumed that I could just swap out the type of shower fixture without asking. I didn’t realize that?—”
“Stop.” He is not bringing this up again.
“People can be very… attached to?—”
“Seriously, stop. Please.” Why is he bringing this up again?
Miles opens his mouth to finish his speech but closes it just as quickly. He props his hands on his hips and exhales through pursed lips. “If you want, I’ll change your showerhead back to what you had before.” His offer comes out in a rush and I have to laugh to break the tension.
“Maybe, we can promise never to speak of this again. Maybe we can just forget whatever it is that you’re trying so hard not to say, and I desperately don’t want to know who brought to your attention that it might have been an issue.”
Miles finally meets my gaze, a heavy haze of embarrassment swirling between us.
“And maybe I’m ready to not rely on a pulsating showerhead so much,” I say, though part of me can hardly believe I just said that.
The air between us is all but sparking with attraction and desire.
“I would love to help you in whatever way you need.” Miles holds my face between his palms, much like Jack held Kate, and says, “I think I should probably go home now, but when you’re ready”—his lips brush mine, softly kissing, gently tasting—“I’m here with you.”
I follow Kate up and peek in on Jake. Bronson lifts his head from where he’s perched on the end of Jake’s bed, exiled from the guest room by actual guests.
With my teeth brushed and face washed, I crawl between the sheets, dreading my morning adventure more than I would a typical waxing appointment.
The next morning, true to her word, Kate and Jack steal my child on the promise of sugar, fat, and carbs.
“I’ll bring you one back. A long, thick one, filled with cream,” Kate says, her eyebrows dancing.
“Those are Mom’s favorites,” Jake tosses out.
And I’m thankful once again that he still seems so innocent.
“Welcome to Puss ’n’ Pits. I’m Jasmine. I’ll be your technician today,” the woman behind the desk says softly.
The pale pink walls contrast against black and chrome. The place is cuter than I thought it would be and definitely looks out of place, hosting the curvy bombshell behind the counter. Waves of chestnut hair are rolled back, pinup-style, and colorful tattoos decorate her arms from her wrists, disappearing into the baby-pink scrubs.
“Chloe Triplett? Looks like you didn’t complete the forms online, so I just need you to take a minute and fill these in.” She slides a clipboard across the counter and smiles broadly.
“Thanks,” I say, taking in her long, thick lashes, bright red lips, classic black cat-eye glasses. “I, uh, I wasn’t the one who made the appointment.” It’s a complete mystery to me why I feel the need to share this, but the words just keep tumbling. “My friend Kate is visiting, and she met my son’s rugby coach and my plumbing hero. And then, over drinks, she decided I needed to be ready. Not her drinks though, mine. I was drinking for both of us because she’s pregnant with her fourth kid, and I think she feels maybe a little guilty because I was the one who was supposed to be having babies, not her. And now, she’s on number four, like I said, and I’m a widow with no reason to even be here.” I set the pen across the clipboard and slam my lids shut. I blow out a shaky breath and steal a glance at the poor woman I just unloaded my life on. “Sorry, that was a lot.”
Her lips twist into a wry smile, and she reaches for the clipboard. At least I managed to fill in the blanks as I was spilling my tea for the tattooed stranger who’s about to get real intimate with just how long it’s been for me.
“Sounds like it’s been a minute since you’ve done this.” Her voice is oddly soothing, and I relax. At least, as much as one can when they’re about to go under the wax spatula and have all the hair ripped from their sensitive bits. “Come on back.”
Jasmine leads me to a tiny room and instructs me to undress from the waist down. She presses a button on the wall and speaks into an intercom. The white-framed box is topped with the silhouette of a black cat stretching low over front paws, back arched so its butt is raised, a tail curled high above.
The rest of the art adorning the walls are pictures. Black-and-white images of World War II airplanes contrast with brightly done modern pinups.
“Beautiful,” I murmur, though I’m not sure she heard me.
“Jen, babe, can you pop over and watch the front for me? Keely’s late again, and I have a client.” She doesn’t wait for a response but pats the table and tells me to hop up.
The paper on the table crinkles beneath me as she snaps on gloves and stirs the vat of wax, the heavy scent of lavender releasing into the air.
“Dating after loss can be an intimidating thing. Fear, pressure, and guilt can overshadow the excitement and tarnish the shine,” Jasmine talks softly and slowly as her hands commit to the torturous task of de-pelting me. The contrast isn’t lost on me, but the conversation does what I need it to providing a solid distraction.
“We’re not even dating though. Not really.” I hold my breath in anticipation of the next swath of wax.
“Mmm, but there’s something. A hint, a desire? I mean, I’m all for waxing the kitty for any reason, but I’m guessing there’s more to this than just a friend’s suggestion.” She whispers, “Exhale,” before she flicks at the edge of the wax and then pulls one final time.
I wipe at the tear that was inevitable.
“All set,” Jasmine says.
With the small bit of privacy afforded me as Jasmine tidies her supplies, I climb off the table and pull on my clothes. “Thank you.”
“Sure.” She opens the door and ushers me out. “Listen, doesn’t matter what your friend thinks, doesn’t matter how much time has passed. When the time is right, you’ll know it. Just make sure it’s on your terms. You need to jump back on that saddle and scratch an itch? Scratch away. But only if you’re ready. There’s no one-size-fits-all timeline, and God knows, there are plenty of good vibrators out there. Hell, a well-placed showerhead can do wonders for a girl. Right, Jen?”
My steps falter as I enter the reception area. I forgot that anyone else was here, but the last thing I expect is the very tall, very hot, very tatted-up man perched in the delicate pink chair behind the counter.
“You know it, Jaz.” The chair groans as he pushes to his feet and plants a chaste kiss to the top of Jasmine’s head.
“Wow, I, um…” I stutter, my cheeks flaming at the fact that I’m having this conversation at all, let alone with a strange man right there.
“Sorry. Jensen Bunnsgaard,” he says, thrusting his hand out for me in greeting. “Hope the pit-master treated you all right.”
“Um, yes?” My voice lifts at the end, making my response more of a question, as the giant Viking of a man’s soft hands encase mine in warmth.
“Knock ’em dead.” He pats Jasmine’s hip, shifting her to the side so he can move past her.
“Your friend took care of everything else online, so have a great day,” Jasmine says. I reach for my wallet, but with a wave of her hand, she adds, “She took care of the tip, too, so I’ll see you next time. Oh, and, Chloe?”
“Yeah?”
“Jen took the pictures back there—the ones you were commenting on in the treatment room.”
My gaze bounces back and forth between them, and Jasmine hands me his business card.
Jensen chuckles, holds the door for me, and tosses a wave over his shoulder as he saunters into the tattoo shop next door. Guns ’n’ Bunns, Ink.