Page 63 of Until Then

I clear my throat, forcing my heart back to its rightful place. “You look beautiful.”

Her beaming smile makes the churning in my stomach more pronounced.

“Thank you.” She grabs her bag and slings it over her shoulder. “Can we get slushies on the way?”

With a chuckle, I swipe my keys off the console. “Anything you want.”

It’s only when her cheeks pinken that I realize what my words could imply.

Wonton, not pleased about being left behind, hops up on the couch and pouts while he watches us through the window.

“Look at him.” She nods at the house as she pulls her seat belt across her body. “This is why I take him everywhere. He’s so good at guilt trips.”

“Kids are good for that, too.”

“Was it hard? Raising them by yourself?”

My heart stutters at the unexpected question. Withoutresponding, I back out of the driveway and head for the gas station.

By the time we pull into the parking lot, she’s wringing her hands, and her shoulders are curled in. Like she’s ashamed for asking the question. I can’t blame her, since I’ve yet to speak since she brought it up.

“Yeah,” I finally say. “It was difficult. And in ways I never could have imagined. Between parenting and working, I always felt stretched thin. And…” I lower my head. “Anyone that has to raise their kids on their own is a badass. It’s not for the faint of heart. I’m lucky. My kids were relatively easy. But they were still children. When one or both was sick, that’s when life was hardest. But hey…” I shrug, dropping my hands from the steering wheel to unbuckle my seat belt. “We made it, and I think they turned out all right.”

“I’m not sure I could have done it,” she admits, playing with a loose thread on her dress. “Just continue on after losing a spouse….”

“Trust me,” I say softly, “you’d be surprised the things you can do when you’re forced into the situation. I couldn’t bring my wife back, but my kids needed a parent, so I had to step up for them. You do what you have to.” I clap my hands and point to the store, ready to move on from the topic. “I’ll grab those. You wait here.”

I hurry inside and fill two Styrofoam cups, then rush to the counter and pull out my wallet. It’s getting darker outside, and I want to get to the beach before sunset.

Greg chuckles, his smile amused. “Your girl really likes these things, huh?”

I tap my card to pay. “Yeah, she does,” I reply, not bothering to correct him.

The moment I’m outside, before the station’s heavy glassdoor has even swung shut behind me, Izzy makes grabby hands where she’s still sitting in the passenger seat.

I shake my head at her antics. I’ve created a monster. Once I’m in the driver’s seat, I hand her one slushie and stick the other in the cupholder.

“God, I love these things,” she says a few minutes later, the tip of her tongue stained blue.

“Really? I would’ve never guessed.”

With a huff full of affection, she gives my shoulder a light punch.

Traffic is heavier than usual on the way, but it’s to be expected, since it’s tourist season. By the time I find a parking spot on the street a little over a block away, Izzy has finished her slushie, and she’s buzzing from all the sugar.

“I can’t believe you’re taking me to a beach party.” She hops out with more gusto than necessary and slings her bag over her shoulder. “This is going to be so fun.”

I cross in front of the truck to meet her on the sidewalk and catch myself half a second before I instinctively stick out my hand for hers.

What the fuck are you doing?

It feels natural, to reach for her, and that is a major red flag.

I’m getting too close.

Too comfortable.

I’m silent on our walk over to the beach, but Izzy talks enough for the both of us, rambling about her progress on the website and what she thinks I could do to make things go smoothly when Jessica returns.

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