Fresh Meet Page 5

  Jace unlocks the car and opens the back door so I can put Tanner in his car seat. Somehow I manage to get him buckled in without waking him up. Poor thing is probably exhausted.

  After one long look at his son, Jace lets out a stifled breath, rubbing his hands over his face. He gazes into the distance, and I give him this moment to decompress, before he sets his gaze on me. “Where are you parked?”

  When I point to my Vespa in the parking spot right next to us, he just shakes his head before opening the passenger door. “Of course you have a moped. It’s way too cold to drive that at night, especially the way you’re dressed. Come on, I’ll take you. We’ll pick it up tomorrow.”

  Too bad he’s right. I was freezing my booty off on the way here and wasn’t looking forward to the drive home.

  I cast a nervous glance at the hospital. “Do you think it’s okay to leave her for the night?”

  “I’m sure it is.”

  He’s probably right. I mean, some people actually have to stay the night here, right? They can’t know which vehicle belongs to which patient or relative. “All right.”

  Jace has his arm perched on the open car door, so when I step past him, I’m close enough to smell his clean, musky scent. It’s a smell I’ve gotten used to over the last two weeks working for him. Even when he’s not at the house, it still lingers in the air or on the furniture.

  My body decides that this is the right moment to pull up a memory of that tiny moment an hour ago when he brushed his hand along my throat.

  Well, it wasn’t really a moment, and he wasn’t actually trying to touch me, but my brain seems to think I liked it anyway.

  My skin tingles just thinking about it as I get in the car and buckle in. I’m so distracted by my thoughts that I miss him shutting the door behind me and getting into the car himself.

  He lets out an impatient huff and I look at him. With his head on the headrest, and his hands loosely in his lap, he inhales deeply several times.

  When he rolls his head to the side, and his gaze lands on me, it’s so intense, I feel it deep in my bones. He was closed off this whole time, looking cool and controlled from the second he opened that door to the emergency room.

  Now, his whole posture is slumped, like he’s sunken into himself. His eyes are wide, unblinking, as they stare at me with an almost tormented look that makes my stomach tighten in response.

  “You okay?” Before I know it, my hand moves across the middle console to touch his arm. He doesn’t seem affected by the cooler night temperatures, his muscles taut under his warm skin as he remains unmoving.

  I’m not sure if I’m crossing some sort of boss-employee line, so I only squeeze once before I retreat back to my side, clasping my hands together in my lap.

  “Yeah.” He swallows and nods, his gaze never leaving mine.

  Then we stare at each other like we just survived a zombie apocalypse and can’t believe we’re still alive.

  “Emilia?” My name is barely a whisper on his lips.

  “Mmm?” Muscle tension has me frozen to my seat, apprehension rushing through me, a certainty settling inside me that this won’t be an everyday question.

  “Will you come back home with us and stay the night?” The words are barely out of his mouth when he breaks eye contact, dropping his gaze to his lap. “Just in case?”

  My heart breaks at his question. He made himself vulnerable to ensure his boy is safe and sound. He didn’t have the chance to give Tanner the unconditional love every child should get from their parents from the moment they’re born, or even before that.

  But he’s here now, and he’s trying. And that’s all anyone can ask of him. To do whatever is in his power.

  “Yes. Of course.”

  Jace nods at my words but still avoids my gaze as he starts the car and drives out of the hospital parking lot with a quietly snoring Tanner in the backseat.

  Six

  Jace

  If I didn’t have high blood pressure before, I’m sure I have it after tonight. Of course I’ve worried about other people before—my friends and family—but I’ve never experienced anything like the last few hours.

  The feeling of being choked or smothered has lessened only minimally. There was a moment—when Tanner first woke up with his bad cough and started crying uncontrollably—where I felt like I wasn’t able to get enough oxygen.

  And that’s coming from an athlete who was taught to hold his breath for long periods of time. Thankfully, that technique was retired long ago, but not once have I ever felt this kind of chest tightness before.

  The chance of something bad happening to him when I just got him was unbearable to imagine.

  Thank goodness for Emilia.

  She might be a bit odd at times and dress crazy, but tonight, she saved me from going overboard, from losing my shit when I had to keep it together for my son.

  My son.

  The concept still seems surreal most days. Sometimes I catch myself staring at him, unable to fathom that he’s actually part me.

  Every moment I’ve wrestled with this intrusion in my life, every ounce of anger and frustration I’ve felt over my career being in danger, was put on the backburner.

  “Is the baby monitor not good enough?” Emilia’s voice is a soft whisper in the quiet house.

  She peeks around my body in Tanner’s room, his nightlight bright enough to see his curled-up body in his crib, his rhythmic snores oddly reassuring.

  We both take a step back, and I close the door quietly before heading to the kitchen.

  “The monitor’s fuzzy.” I hold up the offending device, and the corners of Emilia’s mouth twitch.

  “That’s what I thought.” She nods, but I can see the gleam in her eyes.

  I look at her, really look at her for the first time tonight.

  I sweep over her body from top to bottom, taking in her jean shorts and long-sleeved striped shirt. “So, you do own normal clothes.”

  How on earth did I not notice this outfit before?

  I saw at the hospital that her outfit wasn’t fit for a nightly moped ride, but my brain didn’t register what she was actually wearing.

  She lifts her arms to cross them over her chest but not before I notice her hard nipples through the thin material.

  Just what I need tonight on top of everything else.

  Her chuckle sounds strangled, a flush creeping up her neck and face. “Um . . . of course I own normal clothes. You didn’t think I do?”

  My shoulders lift and fall. “There was a possibility your closet’s filled to the brim with yellows shirts, yellow-black tutus, and gigantic bows.”

  A loud snort escapes her a second before she shoves my shoulder. Hard. Then she chuckles quietly. “You’re funny, Jace Atwood. I wasn’t sure you had that in you.”

  I continue to stare at her as she brushes a strand of her long red hair out of her face. Her hair. No pigtails or bows. I might as well have walked around with blinders tonight for all I’ve noticed.

  “Your hair.” This moment might go down in the book of oddest conversations.

  She breaks eye contact and pushes her locks behind her ear. “I . . . I left the house in a rush, so I didn’t have time to tame it.”

  “I like it.”

  “Thank you.” Emilia smiles before yawning, and I’m unable to keep from copying her.

  The exhaustion crashes down on me like a sledgehammer, and a quick look at the oven clock confirms it’s late. Almost midnight. I can’t remember the last time I stayed up this long.

  Emilia points a thumb over her shoulder in the direction of the bedrooms. “We should probably head to bed. Who knows when Tanner will get up.”

  “True. But you’re off the clock, so there’s no reason for you to get up early. It’s already bad enough you lost most of your free time to help me.” I scratch my neck, trying to get rid of the prickling sensation under my skin.

  There’s absolutely nothing wrong with asking for help, but I don’t do it ver
y often, usually having no reason for it.

  My life is incredibly structured. Everything from my training sessions, to my meals, and the times I go to sleep and wake up. It’s all scheduled, and I love it.

  Normally I’m in bed at nine at the latest, much later and I’ll probably regret it the next day during training. At least that’s my normal bedtime when I get in my one-hour nap, which hasn’t happened a lot lately. More than once I’ve passed out at eight, my body’s way of telling me that this new schedule isn’t really working too well.

  I thrive on routine and quickly get frustrated when things veer off route. It’s hard for me to adjust to change, and my mom always says I’ve been like this since I was little. She loves to tell me about all the meltdowns I had over simple things no one should get upset about.

  Having Tanner in my life quickly showed me that acting like the world is about to end over a broken cracker is pretty much included in the job description of a toddler.

  Another round of yawns fills the space between us, these ones bigger than before.

  I wipe my eyes. "Definitely bedtime. Let me know if you need anything, all right?"

  She nods, waving a hand before she turns around.

  "Emilia."

  "Yeah?" She looks over her shoulder, her red hair framing her pale face like a burning halo.

  Seeing her like this stuns me for a moment, like I’m seeing her for the first time.

  Her beauty is intangible.

  Clearing my throat, I shove my hands in the pockets of my sweats. "Thanks for tonight. I really appreciate it."

  "Of course. I'm glad you called and that Tanner's okay."

  I nod. "Me too."

  She gives me a hesitant smile like this is the first goodbye we share. "Night, Jace."

  "Night, Emilia."

  As I watch her walk away, I realize that this was the first conversation we've had without anyone else acting like a buffer.

  Somehow, I hope things will get easier, more natural, between us because I'm starting to get used to having her around.

  Maybe even liking it.

  After a restless night, the morning is there way too quickly. I was tossing all night long, checking the baby monitor every time I woke up.

  On a positive note, the medicine seemed to have helped, or it wasn’t croup to begin with. Even though Tanner’s still coughing, it sounds normal again.

  He takes a big sip from his water bottle before taking another big bite of his pancake.

  “Are those yummy pancakes, buddy? Maybe we should make them a Sunday morning tradition, huh? Would you like that?”

  He smiles at me, as much as he can while chewing.

  I take that as a yes, quickly understanding what Lila meant about him being great at communicating. The signs and reading his body language isn’t a foolproof system of course, but then, what is?

  He picks up his water bottle again and drinks until it hits air instead of liquid, the straw making a loud slurping noise. Tanner’s fingers go up to his chin at the same time he holds out his water bottle to me.

  “You want some more water? Is your water bottle empty?” I repeat the sign for water with my fingers on my chin, my thoughts jumping back to the first interaction with Emilia at the café. How things have changed.

  After I get a refill for Tanner, we continue to enjoy our meal in comfortable silence when Emilia walks into the room.

  She’s rubbing her eyes, her hair still a wild mess, and I can’t help but notice how she adds color to the room. I’ve never thought about my house lacking color, but the vibrancy she’s added to my life—not only with her colorful appearance and looks, but also with her personality—can’t be ignored anymore.

  My life was good, pretty perfect really. Filled with purpose, going after my dreams day in and day out, my natural sense for competition and wanting to be the best giving me the drive I need to chase my goals like my life depended on it. Give me a competitor’s new best time, and the need to crush that is born.

  Sure, it might seem a bit too focused and simplistic to some people. All the training and strict rules I live by, barely having a social life except the occasional evening or Sunday I spend with the guys, my mom, or the rare date.

  It does sound a bit sad and isolated, but I liked it.

  I chose it.

  But seeing Emilia and Tanner smile at each other as if this is the best day of their lives, does something to me.

  Thoughts invade my mind of how life would be if it was more normal.

  A normal job. Possibly a wife and children. A family to come home to. Actually having the time to hang out with them.

  I never even thought much about having kids. Always thought I’d get to that point when the time was right and after I achieved my goal of being the most decorated Olympic swimmer.

  Getting better and setting new world records is always my goal, but once the goal was within reach to have more medals than any other Olympian to date, my need to surpass the current record holder kicked in. All I need is two more medals.

  Maybe I was cocky, but this whole time I thought it would pretty much be a walk in the park.

  Now, there’s Tanner.

  Even though he only reaches to mid-thigh, he turned out to be the biggest distraction I’ve ever had in my life.

  But then there are moments like these. Watching Tanner’s face light up. Hearing him giggle when Emilia tickles him, unable to keep a smile off my face in response.

  Tanner’s squeal snaps me fully out of my thoughts. Emilia’s bent over his chair, pretending to eat him, and he absolutely loves it, pulling her closer every time she moves away from him.

  After a moment, she straightens up and shakes her hands left and right a few times. “All done, buddy. Millie’s hungry.” She rubs her stomach for emphasis, my eyes snapping to her hand immediately. When I lift my gaze, I meet hers. “If that’s okay with your dad, of course.”

  My brows immediately furrow at her question. “You don’t ever have to ask. Not on a normal day, and especially not after you just did me a huge favor, and I asked you to stay.”

  Her hand tugs at the hem of her shirt as she nods. “Thank you.”

  It’s then that I realize she’s wearing something different from last night. A pair of tight black workout pants paired with a pink T-shirt. “Your clothes.”

  I’ve truly turned into a caveman overnight with limited vocabulary. Apparently, I do that a lot when I’m around her.

  Brushing over her shirt, she shifts her weight from one foot to the other. “I always keep some extra clothes in the bedroom closet, just in case. It’s good to be prepared with kids. I can put them somewhere else if you want.”

  “Yes. I mean, no, of course not. That’s totally okay. I told you to use the room however you see fit in your free time.”

  I’m unable to stop my perusal as I stare at her curves. They are on display more than they’ve ever been before. And damn, if those aren’t some sexy curves.

  Hunter’s words jump back into my mind at lightning speed.

  Makes me wonder what’s underneath and how it would feel to get in close and shove up that—

  It suddenly does feel like it’s been fifty-seven years since I’ve been with someone.

  Maybe there will be a knock on the door at any moment with someone wanting to retrieve my man-card. The man-card I most definitely want to keep, now even more than before.

  Because, damn, if those curves don’t do something to me.

  Which is bad, like really bad.

  I give myself a mental slap, hoping my face doesn’t show my very inappropriate thoughts, and clear my throat. “I made some extra pancakes for you.”

  Her head tips to the side like this surprises her, like me making her food is about the last thing she’d expected me to do. “No chef-cooked meals today?”

  I shake my head. “No. The prepared meals are usually for days when I have training and don’t have the time to cook.”

  I don’t tell her that it t
ook me twice as long to make them with Tanner around. Another thing I’ll have to figure out and get used to.

  “Ah, that makes sense. Well, thank you. That was . . . very nice of you.”

  “I’m keeping you away from your day off, so it’s the least I could do.”

  She nods, tucking her unruly hair behind her ear. “Don’t worry about it. I didn’t have much planned anyway. I’m free until my meeting tonight.” Her eyes go wide as the words come out of her mouth, as if she said something she shouldn’t have said.

  What on earth is this about? What kind of meeting?

  Emilia blows out a shallow breath and breaks eye contact. “Anyway. I’ll get some food. Thanks again for making it.”

  “Sure.” My eyes stay fixated on her as she walks to the kitchen, taking a pancake from the large stack, and putting it on a plate and into the microwave.

  When she comes back, she sits down next to Tanner, brushing her hand softly over his forehead. “Hey, monkey. You feeling better?”

  He nods, mmh-ing around his mouthful of food. That boy might just have his appetite from me.

  After eating a bite of pancake, Emilia lets out the smallest, sexiest moan I’ve ever heard. I doubt she even realizes what she did, but my body most definitely did.

  Looks like I’ve officially—and very unintentionally, and sort of unwillingly—joined the Emilia Davies-is-incredibly-sexy club.

  Just what I need in my already complicated life.

  She leans in close to Tanner. “You still need to relax a lot today. No crazy running around, okay?”

  He gives her a grin and nods, right before he sneezes.

  Snot flies everywhere. On the table, and everyone’s plates.

  “Uh-oh.” Emilia grabs the wet wipes from the table and pulls out a few. After taking care of his nose and face, she starts on the table.

  Good thing Tanner and I were mostly done anyway. Poor Emilia didn’t get so lucky, but there are more pancakes in the kitchen. “Why don’t you get another one. I’m going to clean up the rest.”