Chapter 31
Cody
Addie’s sitting with Emma on my living room floor, helping her sit up and play with a toy piano. Wesley’s on the couch watching, a smile on his face with every giggle Emma lets out.
She’s already unfazed that her mom’s not in the room.
Something Karissa is anxious about. Emma’s almost four months old, and Karissa’s been anxious to leave her because she’s afraid Emma will miss her and wonder where she is.
I assured her—a few times—that Emma loves Addie and she’ll be fine for a few hours.
I’m taking her out tonight. Told her I wanted to go out on a real date because tomorrow’s the start of the season. We’ll pick up our first group of clients and take them out Saturday for opening day. So tonight is the last chance we’ll have for a while.
I head toward my room…well, her room for the time being. The door’s open, light still on, but she’s not inside. I spot the glow from the bathroom and walk through. The door’s half open, and there she is, standing at the mirror, flicking a makeup brush over her cheeks.
Her hair’s loosely curled, and she’s wearing those jeans again. The ones I like. They hug her in all the right places.
It isn’t until I get closer that I see there’s more makeup on her than I’ve seen her wear in weeks. Maybe ever.
“Hey,” I say quietly.
She doesn’t turn, just meets my eyes in the mirror, frozen midswipe with the makeup brush.
“Don’t do that for me,” I murmur.
She blinks. “I just want to look nice.”
I step in behind her, my hand finding the small of her back. “You always do.”
Her lips curve a little. “Well, you said this was going to be a nicer place.”
“I know, but it’s not formal or anything.”
“This isn’t formal.” She laughs. “I’m wearing jeans, Cody.”
“Damn right you are.” My eyes drop to them again, and her elbow finds my ribs.
“Stop it,” she laughs.
* * *
After what felt like hours of Karissa telling Addison every possible thing she might need to know regarding Emma, we’re finally in my truck, on our way to dinner.
Her hand is in mine and I can sense she’s uptight. I rub my thumb over her knuckles for subtle assurance.
“Addie will call if there are any questions,” I remind her.
“I know.”
“Do you?” I laugh.
“It’s just annoying.”
“What is?”
“That I want a break most days and then here I am, getting one, and all I do is worry and wish away the time so I can get back to her quicker.”
“I’m sure you’re not the only mom who does that.”
“I just feel guilty. Emma doesn’t understand why I need a break or why I get overwhelmed. She’s a baby.”
I stay quiet, but not because I have no idea what to say. Of course Emma doesn’t understand. She’s not gonna remember she didn’t see her mom for a few hours this one night when she was three months old. This evening isn’t going to alter her life.
“She smiled when we left. Didn’t make a single fuss,” I say.
“I know. But what if we get into an accident and I never see her again.”
“Karissa, stop. You cannot think like that.” I’m firm because that’s dark, even for me.
“Well, I do.”
“Well, that’s not okay. You know, you can worry the world away, therefore it’s pointless to do.”
She slips her hand from mine and folds it in her lap, but I reach over and take it right back, holding on.
“I just want you to relax,” I say, my thumb brushing over her knuckles again. “Enjoy yourself…with me. Okay?”
She just nods, the radio and sound of my truck the only thing humming in the background.
When we get to the restaurant, it hits me, a past memory with Bree. An argument memory, that is. I used to suggest we pick up pizza and go park in a field. Eat in the bed of my truck and watch the sunset. But she never wanted to do that.
“Sometime,” I say, testing it out, “we could pick up our order and find a spot to watch the sunset while we eat.”
“Let’s do it.”
I blink. “Now? Tonight?”
“Mm-hmm,” she hums. “Why not?”
“’Cause I promised you a nice dinner. A sit-down, order-a-glass-of-wine-if-you-want kind of thing.”
“I don’t want wine. Let’s do your thing.”
And I can’t help it…I laugh.
Twenty minutes later, we’re back on the road.
The sky’s starting to shift, soft streaks of pink and orange painted across the blue. I pull off the main road and onto the gravel path I’ve used a hundred times before, open fields on both sides. It’s peaceful, quiet, empty out here.
I park near the edge of the field, kill the engine, and grab the food. Karissa grabs the napkins and drinks before hopping out on her side and meeting me back by the tailgate. The small smile on her face tells me this is exactly what she needed.
The conversation between us is light as we sit and eat, soaking in the view, the sun still out but moving toward the horizon with every passing minute.
“I meant what I said, you know,” she says with a quiet boldness to her tone.
“What was that?” I mutter through a full mouth.
“About marrying you,” she admits.
I look over but she’s not looking at me.
“Not even a hint of hesitation?” I ask.
She looks at me, eyes steady. “No. You?”
“Not with you. But I’ll be honest, I’m afraid of getting walked out on again.”
“I wouldn’t do that.” She shakes her head.
“Maybe we do something smaller than what I had back then.”
“Yeah, I wouldn’t want some huge wedding. I’m not that girl.” She laughs once.
“I didn’t think so,” I say, chuckling.
She huffs a soft laugh, then shrugs. “I’ve got Emma. I’ve got spit-up on everything I own. I don’t have bridesmaids or friends who’d come. My parents are dead. And plus, I’m not trying to impress anybody.”
The honesty makes my chest ache. I do feel bad for her, but she couldn’t have stumbled into a better family.
“So…courthouse?” I laugh once.
“That or elope.”
“I’d do either,” I say and we fall quiet again, but it’s not awkward, it’s comfortable. Full of understanding the choices we already agree on. Call me crazy, but I definitely need to start thinking about getting this girl a ring.