Chapter 32
Riley
Iwake to the slick feel of a dog tongue on my face.
“Hey buddy,” I croak as Connor climbs on my chest. He continues to sneak licks at my face, his little feet dancing excitedly on my sternum and tail whirring at the prospect of food to come.
I chuckle. “Alright, I’m up. I’m up! Is it time for breakfast?”
He freezes momentarily at the b-word before his body resumes his enthusiastic gyrations with even more vigor.
I lift him off and set him down beside me on the mattress, where he spins in circles several times before launching off the bed and racing to the door. There, he spins once more before looking back over his shoulder at me expectantly.
“I know,” I reassure him. “I’m coming.”
I climb from the bed and open the door for him, following the quick patter of his feet down the hall to the kitchen.
It’s Sunday, the day my mom usually goes fishing with Jack. She’ll have been up with the birds and off to The Narrows, a marshy area that connects the two lakes, and a popular location for recreational anglers.
My mother quit going to church after my father died.
She says gliding through those still waters on her small trolling boat as the sun rises, casting the soft ripples on the surface in gold, is the closest she gets to God nowadays.
It’s her happy place, and I suspect the company might have a little to do with it, too.
I help myself to the remains of the coffee she’d brewed before she left and scoop some of the homemade dog food she’s recently begun making into Connor’s bowl.
He inhales it and then follows me to the back door, where I let him out to relieve himself in the yard.
Standing in the open doorway, I breathe in the damp spring air.
The grass is still covered in morning dew, but there’s not a cloud in the sky, and I know the sun will burn any lingering chill away before too long.
Connor races from corner to corner of the yard, snuffling along the fence line and the edge of the deck in search of any remaining nightly intruders, while I take a sip of my coffee.
I pull a face. It’s hours old, and, along with all the other positive changes I’ve been trying to make recently, I’ve decided life’s too short for bad coffee.
Setting my mug aside, I pull out my phone and text Steph.
Riley
Good morning, Sunshine
Steph
Morning!
Riley
Speaking of sunshine, it’s looking to be a beautiful day. What have you got going on? Wanna go for a walk with me and Connor?
While she switches off Saturdays with Piper, I know the library is closed today.
Steph
Actually, that sounds really nice. The boys likely won’t be up for a few hours still, and they’re probably just going to play video games all afternoon anyway. I did want to stop in and drop a few baby things off for Lucy.
Riley
Perfect! I was going to suggest meeting at The Bean anyway. I’ll buy you one of those fancy green drinks.
Steph
Lol. Matcha
Riley
;-)
Steph
Meet you in 30?
Riley
See you then
She’s wearing comfy-looking green joggers, a matching hoodie with a white tee underneath, and a jean jacket, and she looks fucking fantastic.
This woman could wear rags, and her beauty would shine through, because it’s so much more than just the physical.
Steph smiles at me, bright-eyed, from her spot outside The Busy Bean Cafe and Bakery. Fifty-three.
“Hi, handsome!” she calls as we draw near.
“Hey, beautiful.”
“Oh, I wasn’t talking to you,” she quips teasingly before bending over to give Connor her full attention. “I was talking to you, wasn’t I, sweet boy?” she coos, doling out head scratches. “Yes, I was. Yes, I was. You’re just the handsomest boy ever, aren’t you?”
He jumps up unexpectedly, planting a slobbery kiss to her cheek and causing her to rear back in surprise. She gets to her feet with a laugh, meeting my eyes with a grin as she wipes at the wet spot.
Fifty-four.
“Guess I should have been expecting that.”
“You definitely should have,” I agree with a chuckle as I move in close to tuck a loose strand of her short hair behind her ear. “Now, he got his kiss, where’s mine?” I ask, my hand lingering to cup her jaw.
She blushes, biting her lip and glancing around the street.
My heart drops at the realization that she’s hesitant to be seen kissing me in public.
Things have been great between us all winter—better than great, actually—and all I want to do is shout about our relationship to the world.
Claim her in front of the whole town, so there’s no doubt who she belongs to.
But while she’s opened up to me quite a bit over the last few months, in many ways, she’s still tentative about us.
Clearly, there’s more work to be done. Clearly, we aren’t on the same page yet. Clearly—
Before I can spiral any further, she steps into me, so we’re chest to chest. I catch the flash of resolve in her beautiful brown eyes a moment before she yanks me down and presses her lips to mine. The kiss isn’t long or deep, but it’s enough.
In this moment, it’s everything, because she just claimed me.
“That was a little bit scary,” she murmurs against my lips before pulling back and putting space between us again.
I swallow thickly, emotion welling up inside me.
“I know. Thank you for being brave, though. It means a lot.”
She nods, biting her lip once more as she watches me fight to get my feelings under control.
“Thank you,” I say again, because I don’t take for granted what a huge step this is for her—for us. She smiles softly, and I match it with one of my own. Bending down, I scoop Connor up into the crook of my arm before offering her my other hand.
“Shall we?”
She links her fingers with mine, leaning up on her toes to offer me a second kiss, this one to my cheek, further cementing our relationship in the public eye, and making my fucking month.
“We shall.”
I hold the door for her, and we approach the counter hand-in-hand. It’s ridiculous, but I can’t help puffing out my chest as I glance around at all the customers observing us from their tables.
“Hey Tessa,” Steph says brightly. “I didn’t know you were working here.”
The girl, Tessa, blushes. “It’s only my second day. I’m so thankful to Lucy for giving me a chance, you know, since …” she trails off, but Steph seems to know what she’s referring to, simply nodding her understanding.
“That’s so great. I’m sure you’ll do well.”
“Thanks,” Tessa murmurs. “So … what can I get you?”
I place our order, impressing Steph with my recollection of how she takes her matcha, and wait for our drinks while she ducks behind the counter and into the back of the bakery.
Lucy’s currently on maternity leave, having given birth just last month, but lives in the apartment above the café, which Steph explains is easier to access from here rather than walking around to the alley behind the row of buildings on this block.
I down my coffee in several large gulps, burning the roof of my mouth in the process, but wanting to keep a hand free to hold Steph’s once more when she returns.
We wait for her outside, Connor tugging eagerly on his leash while I try not to spill Steph’s treasured matcha in my other hand before she gets back.
I pass it to her when she joins us, watching intently as her tongue snakes out to lick the bit of whip off the top of the to-go cover, and willing my dick to stay down when she moans at the first sip.
“How’s Lucy doing?” I ask, as we stroll down High Street. I know she and Noah had broken up for a short time over the winter and also that there had been complications with the birth.
She grins, her happiness for her friend evident. “Really well. She and Noah worked things out, and Cece is the cutest freaking baby I’ve ever seen. Well, excluding my boys, obviously.”
“Obviously,” I repeat, with a faint smile, though it hurts to be reminded that I missed out on seeing Matt as a baby. Steph tells me they’re busy packing to move into their new place, then proceeds to describe it in great detail, having been given a tour on the day she first met the baby.
We head down to the waterfront in comfortable silence after that, taking the boardwalk past the marina and down alongside the beach.
Despite the sunny day, the water is dark and choppy, the breeze much stronger here than it was in the sheltered buildings of the main stretch.
Leftover chunks of ice are still visible floating out in its depths.
Steph angrily points out the barely there, new green shoots of phragmites—a type of reed growing in places at the sand’s edge—explaining how it’s an invasive species that threatens to choke out other important native shoreline plants like swamp milkweed, cardinal flowers, and asters.
I let Connor off his leash briefly, thinking it’s safe for him to run for a while in the sand, but it backfires spectacularly when he bombs right through a flock of gulls who screech and scatter initially only to swoop angrily at all three of us.
Steph cackles, ducking the birds, and waving her arms while I attempt to catch my rascal dog and hook him back up.
Once we’ve all calmed down and the birds have returned to the fish carcass they’d been picking at before they were so rudely interrupted, we resume our walk.
Taking her hand once more, I ask Steph to tell me about the boys.
I’m hungry for any little tidbit about my son, but I’m also eager to get to know Alex, fully aware it’ll require more than a few new video games to win him over.
Steph’s been sharing little details about their days with me during our evening calls, but I want to know more.
What’s Matt’s favorite food? And Alex’s favorite band?
When did my son first learn to ride a bike?
Who first threw a football around with him?
Okay, so I probably don’t want to know that last one.
“Is he still seeing that girl you told me about?”