Chapter 13 #2
For the last couple of weeks, we’d spent a lot of time together.
He brought me with him to pick out fittings for the house.
Often, we’d stop and have lunch because usually shopping like that took a lot of time.
He paid every time despite my arguments.
Sometimes, Lock would come along too if it was the weekend.
Ty seemed to enjoy hanging out with Lock, sometimes waiting until after school to go pick up something if he thought Lock would find it interesting.
Watching a man like Ty being as considerate of my kid as he was did things to me.
Now, Ty was touching me without fabric to dull the sensation.
His eyes dropped to my mouth, and I knew, I knew, he was thinking about kissing me.
I wanted him to so badly, my lips quivered in anticipation.
Later, I’d be horrified at how obviously desperate I must have looked.
At the way I’d forgotten that we weren’t alone.
Oh, God. Was he leaning down? His head was tilted just slightly, and being the shorty I was, it looked like he was leaning toward me. Or maybe I was just wishing he was.
Of course, someone chose that exact moment to ring my doorbell.
Jerking back, I almost stumbled, catching myself on the counter. Ty’s hand fell away.
“I can get it,” Wade offered, moving. My fingers clenched without my meaning them to, rubbing together a second as mortification swept over me. He was here. The whole time. How could I forget that Wade was in the room? Please, God, Satan, whoever is listening, I need a black hole right now!
“No!” I practically screamed. “I’ve got it.” I all but sprinted to the door.
With every step of space I put between us, the air cooled and I could think again.
I really didn’t want to think. My mind replayed what had just happened, and all the old criticisms and words that tormented me into the fetal position came roaring back.
That was so inappropriate, I chastised myself, finally understanding what Dad meant about keeping contractors and workers in their lane.
And Ty wasn’t only my contractor; he was my new friend’s son.
My friend’s son. Cady-Jo was well on her way to being a good friend, too.
I needed to keep my dad’s voice front and center from now on and ensure I kept my distance from Ty in the future before I did something to really embarrass myself.
Throwing open my front door, I was stunned for a moment.
“Jeremy, what the hell are you doing here?”
The man beside him suddenly turned, considering him. “You’re Jeremy?”
Jeremy sniffed, puffing up his chest, and I almost laughed. “I am.” He sounded almost proud, like somehow acknowledging who he was gave him the right to preen.
“Dad, what are you doing here?” Ty came down the hall, having heard Dalton’s voice.
“Why are you here, Jeremy?” It wasn’t his night for visitation. He didn’t get to see Lock until the weekend.
Was I being unspeakably rude to Dalton by not greeting him or inviting him in as I usually would? Yes. Would I apologize like I was a broken record later? Also, yes. Did that mean I took my attention off the man who liked to fuck up my life like it was his favorite sport? Hell. No.
“I’m here for Lachlan’s first baseball game,” he announced. “Now are you going to let me in?”
Jeremy took a step forward, and I found myself engulfed in heat, chasing away the chill I hadn’t known had washed over me. “Back up,” Ty all but snarled.
Dalton shot him a quelling look, interceding, “The lady hasn’t invited you in, so you may want to respect her space.”
Anger flared at Jeremy for whatever game he was currently playing, at Ty for having the audacity to speak for me, and even at Dalton for being so calm and reasonable and respectful.
Then I felt the anger direct itself inward.
Me and my stupid need to try and do the right thing.
I’d sent Jeremy the information about Lock’s first baseball game, thinking he’d do what he usually did: make an excuse and not come.
Why did this time have to be the time he did?
“And you’re involved in this how?” Jeremy looked incredulous at being denied entry.
“How about we go take a look at the deck, Ty?” Dalton gave me a long, understanding look, and I offered him a wan half-smile.
Ty went to object and then thought better of it.
Instead of making me step aside, which might give Jeremy a chance to enter, Ty reluctantly stepped out and followed his dad around back.
“Jeremy,” I snapped, feeling the ache at my temples start.
“First, you don’t have the right to just show up here and expect to be let in.
This is my house. Second, Lock’s not even home from school yet.
” Ah, damn. I felt some of my anger deflate.
Lock. This was his father, and he was here to support him.
God damn it all to hell. I took a mental breath and counted back from ten in my head.
“I know Lock will be happy that you’re here to see his first game.
” I stepped back, feeling sick, until a movement outside caught my attention. “Is that Layla?”
Jeremy puffed. “Of course. She’s here to support him, too.”
I gaped at him. Was he seriously that stupid? There was a court-fucking—Oh, shit. The court order only pertained to when Jeremy was alone with Lock.
Behind me, I heard the sound of men mumbling.
“Ah, you just realized the court order doesn’t include public gatherings,” Jeremy sneered, keeping his voice low so the others in the house couldn’t hear.
My hand clenched so hard on the door I could feel every grain of wood.
“Now, do you want me to tell Lock how his perfect mommy didn’t welcome his father into the house he lives in?”
Without meaning to, I reacted to that dig. It had been one of Jeremy’s weapons for so long you’d think I’d be immune to it. I wasn’t. What’s more, the mom in me was now fully activated, just not in the way Jeremy thought it would be.
“Lock isn’t home from school for another two hours. Come back when Lock is home. You and your mistress are welcome to find something else to do until then.” I slammed the door in his surprised face.
Leaning heavily against it, I blinked through the tears that burned my eyes.
I hated this. I hated this so much. I hated that this was how my son’s life was.
I hated that woman. I hated how I knew when Lock was out of school that I would let Jeremy in because it was what was best for my son.
I hated that this was probably going to be how it would be from now on.
“Phoebe?” Dalton called softly from behind me.
Without picking my head up, I turned just enough to see him. He had a tool belt on and a look of concern that had my lip trembling.
“Ah, darlin’.” Dalton moved closer, putting a hand on my shoulder. “Want me to go out there and beat him up?”
He tried to joke, but the laugh that should have come came out garbled like I was laughing underwater.
“I’m okay.” I took a deep breath, braced my hands against the door, pushing away. I had to be okay. I was strong enough to be okay, I reminded myself. “Are you going to be working here, too?”
Dalton considered me, and I tried not to shrink under the intensity of it. Fuck that. I was done shrinking. I squared my shoulders even as my knees thought now was a good time to get wobbly as if belying my inner monologue.
“Yeah, the guys found something—”
I cut him off, throwing up a hand. I had a feeling I knew where he was going, and I didn’t want to even ask. “Never mind. I have sandwiches made in the kitchen.” I fell back on what I knew best when things were riotous in my head: food.
Dalton nodded. We chatted for a minute and then he went, leaving me alone in the house.
I went to the living room where I’d left my notebook.
Picking up my pen, I let all the words and feelings pour out of me.
With each scratch of the pen against the paper, I found myself settling.
By the time I was done, I felt more like the Phoebe I wanted to be.
Setting aside the notebook, I went in search of a contractor who may make parts of my body tingle, and whose protectiveness made me feel something I couldn’t explain yet, but who needed to know that I was also capable of taking care of myself.