Page 141 of Denim & Diamonds

When I looked back at her, she was smirking. “I don’t know. I kind of like it.”

I chuckled. “You like torturing me?”

“I think your jealousy is sexy.”

Her tone lit an unwanted fire inside of me. “Well, I’m sorry for overreacting.”

“I’m sorry to have caused you to overreact. This isn’t going to be easy. There’s no playbook for how to go from lovers to friends, when neither of us is really ready for that.”

“That’s for damn sure.”

The christening was coming up in a few days. She hadn’t mentioned it, so I figured she probably wasn’t going to make it. I didn’t bother asking for an update. I didn’t want her to feel pressured.

“Well, I already ate up enough of your time,” I told her. “I’ll let you go.”

“I’ll always make time for you, Brock.”

I smiled, wishing I could reach through the phone and taste her lips. “Take care, Red.”

After I hung up, I sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the wall. Oak looked over at me from the corner of the room.

“Did you enjoy me making an ass of myself?” I groaned. “I shouldn’t have listened to you. All that call did was make me look like a jealous prick.”

He barked.

“I know. I know. That’s what Iam.” I laughed at myself. “Now I miss her even more. Thanks a lot.”

***

The following day, I went to the local farmers’ market with Patrick in tow. It soon became clear that if I planned to go to a public place with my son, I needed to be prepared for extra attention left and right. I’d never had trouble attracting single women in this town. But Patrick attached to my chest was a new, unwanted magnet.

As I sampled some homemade smoked sausage, Tori, my one-time babysitter, materialized next to me.

“Hey, Brock.”

“Oh, hey, Tori.”

I hadn’t called her again after I’d gotten the vibe that she might’ve been interested in more than just babysitting Patrick.

“I’m surprised you haven’t needed me to babysit again.”

I wiped my mouth with a napkin. “My sister-in-law has that pretty much covered lately. But thank you for offering to help.”

“Well, you know, you can always call me forotherreasons.”

“I got that.” I nodded once. “Thank you.”

Then some other woman I didn’t recognize interrupted our conversation as she hovered over my son. “Isn’t he the most precious thing? Looks just like you, Brock.”

“Thank you.”

“I hear you could use some help?”

Tori walked away, seeming annoyed.

“No, I’ve got it covered,” I told the woman. “But thank you.”

“Well, I’m certified in CPR. Here’s my card if you ever feel overwhelmed.”

---