Page 42 of Falling for Red
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At the grocery store, I shop for all the ingredients needed for dinner, but my mind keeps drifting back to Claire. What would it really mean for us to be together? Not just dating, but fully in each other’s lives. I tap Nicholas’s contact in my phone. He would have some insight into dating a single mom.
“Jake,” he answers, warm.
“Hey! Quick question. How long were you and Emily dating before you met her son?”
“Three months.”
I reach for a bundle of carrots and frown.That’s a long time.
“It would have been sooner if it were up to me, but that’s what Emily wanted,” Nicholas continues. Then he chuckles to himself. “So, you and Claire are hitting it off?”
“Nearly inseparable.” I toss a head of garlic into my cart.
“You never know what can bring two people together,” he says, seemingly amused. “I like the idea of you two ... but … she’s been through a lot.”
“I’m learning.” I pause my stride with the grocery cart, considering everything. Claire has enough stress in her life. I can give her peace, safety. I want to give her that. And I’d love to meet her daughter soon. Once we’re officially dating, I’ll talk toClaire more about that—what she wants from me in that part of her life. I know Gabby has a dad, but I’d still like to be involved—maybe make dinner for the girls once a week or something like that at first.
“Well, I have a lot to do right now,” Nicholas says, bringing me back to the moment. “I’ll see you both at the barbecue tomorrow?”
“You know it,” I say, still thinking about what my life with Claire and Gabby could look like.
Standing at her doorway with a grocery bag in each hand, Claire greets me with a big smile, messy bun, tank top, and baggy cotton shorts. I lean down to kiss her before stepping in. Placing the bags on the kitchen counter, I ask, “How was your day?”
“Good. Very relaxing.” Her eyes dart to the bouquet in one of the bags. “You got me flowers?”
“I did,” I say, lifting them from the bag and handing them to her.
“These are beautiful,” she says, inhaling the fresh scent, then goes to a cabinet and grabs a vase.
I look around and notice the place looks more organized and put together than yesterday. I spot a photo of Claire and her daughter on the refrigerator. She’s precious. Toothy smile, big blue eyes, long hair.
“She looks just like you but with brown hair.” Turning to face Claire, I ask, “Where’s your slow cooker?”
“I don’t have one.”
“Really?” I ask, surprised.
“I usually make fast meals.” She shrugs.
“Well … field trip after I put everything in the fridge.” I grab the handle, opening the fridge.
“Field trip?” she asks hesitantly.
“We’re going to my house to get mine.”
She tilts her head. “Why don’t we cook at your house then?”
“Nope,” I say, shaking my head.
“Why?”
“That wasn’t the plan … and it’s your day. When you’re tired, you should be steps away from bed.”
“I could always sleep in your bed,” she tests, moving closer to me and resting her hands on my hips.
My eyebrow raises as I look down at her. “You want to have a sleepover?”
