Page 67 of Unexpected Love
Great. Just great. While I’ll be sleeping in his bed, he’ll be down the hall from this bombshell.Ugh.
I have to pinch myself to remember my manners and get my head back in this conversation. As it is, I’m the one making things weird.
“It’s nice to meet you,” I say, offering her a hand. “I’m opening the new coffee shop in town.”
“Oh, we know. That’s all Cal has talked about lately. I think he’s as excited as you are.”
I don’t know why that pleases me so, but my smile grows more genuine, either from the knowledge that Cal talks about me, or that he’s proud of helping me accomplish this goal.
“Please come by any time you’re on duty and grab a cup on the house.”
“I’m gonna take you up on that.” She looks to Cal. “I’m making a dinner run. Need anything?”
“I’m good. Got leftovers.”
Leftovers from a meal that we cooked together, where we were flirting and touching the whole time, so much so that we got carried away and nearly burned dinner and had to scrape some of the charred bits off the bottom of the casserole.
Kate leaves with a promise to drop by the shop once we open, and Cal and Charlie resume their inspection of the firetruck.
He’s full of easy grins and a chipper attitude. I don’t think I’ve seen him this happy. Other than maybe the day of the festival, when he had Charlie on his shoulders and whisked her off to the park.
“Being a girl dad suits you,” I announce. Because I can, I slide a hand to his waist and lay my head on his shoulder. His arm wraps around me in a comforting hug.
“Thanks for coming by” is all he says before he kisses the top of my head. But what I hear is, I’m happy you’re here; this means the world to me.
And I can’t tell if the pressure of his happiness makes me feel better, or if it’s scaring the shit out of me.
“I know you’re worried about the shop,” he continues. “I’ll do everything I can to make it right as soon as the inspector’s office opens tomorrow.” It’s a vow. And knowing him like I do, it’s one he will do everything in his power to keep.
For reasons I can’t understand, I mean something to him. Maybe even as much as Charlie does.
We complete the tour of the fire engine, and Charlie grows restless. Recognizing that she’s hit her limit, I start herding us toward the car. Once he gets his share of night-night hugs and kisses, Cal buckles her into her seat, then meets me at my door.
“Have you heard any more from Dani?” I ask.
“No.” His arms slide around my waist, and he pulls me close for a hug. My hands land on his chest, and I can’t help but explore the expanse of muscle under my palms. “But there’s something we need to talk about.”
I immediately tense. “Okay. You can’t say something like that as I’m about to leave. I’ll be up all night worrying. Rip the Band-Aid off and tell me what’s on your mind.”
“I’m going for full custody of Charlie. I haven’t talked to Dani yet. Haven’t set it in motion. I wanted to talk to you about it first.”
“Me? Why?”
A crease forms between his eyes. “We’re kind of in this together. Or do I have things wrong?”
“Uh. Well…”Shit. Why is he bringing this up today, when I’d just had that conversation with Maggie?
Now he’s the one tensing up. All the playfulness drains away as he stares at me.
“Jules?”
“I mean… yeah?” I’m fucking this up. I know it, but I can’t stop it. “But Cal, this is your decision. Don’t base it off of me.” I fake a laugh and pull away. “I mean. I’m kind of used to my routines and all.” That’s a total lie. I’ve got zero routines, and I’ve easily adapted to helping out with Charlie. “I haven’t minded helping with Charlie, but I guess I just assumed she’d go back to her mom at some point, and we’d carry on with this—whatever it is—between us.” It’s a total cop-out, and I know it. I immediately feel like an asshole.
He pulls back, his features stricken. This is not the time or place for this conversation. But Cal is young; he’s prime dad age. I’m to the point where even if I wanted to have a kid, it would put me in the high-risk pregnancy category. But we’ve never had the conversation of what we wanted out of this relationship, and it’s one that’s got the potential to implode on us.
“We need to press pause on this conversation.” I close the distance he’s put between us and pat his chest. “We’ll figure it out.” I go up on tiptoe to give him a peck.
But he doesn’t kiss me back. My heart stutters as I withdraw. He doesn’t look like the self-assured man he was when I first arrived. There’s no glint in his eye. No playfulness. And he’s not smiling as I pull away. He’s standing in front of the bay with his hands in his pockets, watching us leave, and I wonder if I’ve just set things in motion for us to fail.
