Page 107 of This Could Be Us

“I gotta try.” She laughs. “Hold on. Okay. Kent says it’s time for the hike. We’ll chat later.”

After we hang up, I sink gratefully into the chair behind my desk, slip on my reading glasses, and open the laptop for the first time in days. There’s a comfort in the familiar cells of the spreadsheet. I get stressed about my money, always making sure there will be enough of it to take care of the boys when I’m gone, but other people’s money is like a playground, especially when there’s as much of it to manage as CalPot offers. And as stressful as my job should be, it never really is. My work has been an outlet, something to relieve whatever challenges I have at home. Something I’m good at and always get right. In parenthood, especially with our circumstances, I’ve often felt like I was failing. Not for want of trying, but just not having all the answers or ways to make things better.

But thingsarebetter.

My sons are in a good place, generally, besides the usual speed bumps. Tremaine is happy, which is really important to me.

But what aboutme?

I hadn’t thought much about being happy for years. It felt like a luxury, something I’d never get for myself. I’ve been thinking about it lately, though. Possibilities have flooded my mind since the last time I saw Soledad—what-ifs I never entertained teasing the back of my consciousness.

What could we be together?

Happy? Deliriously content?

I take a few bites of the sandwich and a sip of the beer, work for a few minutes on the spreadsheet, but finally push away from the desk, unable to focus.

I want to see her.

She said I could call, but I haven’t. Her sister was visiting. She wasspending time with her girls. I was with my boys and my parents. I reach for my phone, staring at the dark screen for a few seconds before tossing it onto the desk. Leaning back in my chair, I crack the door open for the memory of that night in the shed. How she felt in my arms, how she smelled, the sounds she made, the way she screamed my name the second time she came.

“Shit.” I run an agitated hand over the back of my neck and just barely stop myself from taking my dick out right here in the office. “I should go for a run.”

I’ve stood and headed off to change into running clothes when the buzz of my phone from the office catches me at the bottom of the stairs.

I head back to the office and flip the phone over, almost dropping it when Soledad’s name flashes on-screen.

“Sol,” I say, forcing myself to sound normal. “Hey, happy New Year.”

“Hey,” she replies. “Yeah, happy New Year.”

I frown, hearing the catch in her voice. “You okay?”

“Um, not really.” She laughs, but it’s high and false. “Could I… Are the boys there?”

“No, they’re with Tremaine for the next couple of days. We just got back this morning, and they basically went straight to her place. She missed them.”

“Oh, so are you… Could I come over?”

“Sure.” I pause for a breath in case that came out too eager. “Yeah. I’m here.”

“Do you mind if I pull into your garage? I don’t want rumors or gossip… The girls—”

“No problem. Let me know when you’re outside and I’ll open it.”

She chuckles. “I’m outside.”

As soon as she enters my kitchen from the garage, I know something’s off. Her eyes are like bruises against the honey gold of her face. Her hair is always wavy, but it riots in tousled tangles like she’s been shoving her fingers through it. I take her coat, and when she hands it to me, I’m momentarily distracted by the black dress hugging the cursiveshape of her petite form. It’s a modest dress that covers her with its high neck and the long sleeves that gather at her wrists, but Soledad doesn’t have a modest body. It’s bold in the flare of her hips and the tight swell of her thighs, juxtaposed against the exaggerated jut of her ass. When I’m able to tear my eyes away from her figure to meet her gaze, she’s watching me watching her.

“Uh, sorry.” I turn to hang her coat in the mudroom. “So what’s up?”

“I probably shouldn’t have come.” She walks over to the counter and takes one of the high stools, covering her eyes with shaking hands and pushing the hair out of her face. “But Hendrix is still in Charlotte. Yas and Josiah took a trip to the mountains.”

“You don’t have to explain why I was your last resort,” I say with wry amusement. “It’s fine.”

“You were actually the first person I thought of,” she says, narrowing her eyes on my face. “You wear glasses?”

“Oh.” I take them off and rub my eyes, setting them on the counter. “Just for work. Reading.”

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