Page 47 of The Maxwell Brothers
“Only twenty-five. He was young when he passed.” She looked away, but not before I noticed the sorrow in her eyes. I wanted to hug her. I hadn’t known she’d lost her husband soearly on. “But I had to kiss a lot of frogs until I found him. Was like that in my time, and I can’t imagine it’s gotten easier. Also something you shouldn’t mention to your father.”
Paisley’s grin widened.
Midway through the baking process, my phone beeped with a message. Washing my hands off, I took the phone out of my back pocket.
Tate: Morning, beautiful. This week is getting out of hand too.
Lexi:
Last week we’d barely texted, even on the weekend.
Tate: I want to see you. Can you stay until later this evening?
My heart rate sped up.
Lexi: Yes.
Tate: Great. I’ll tell Gran she can go home in the evening.
Lexi: Oh, so whatever you have in mind requires us to be alone?
Tate: Yes. Fuck, yes.
That evening I experienced Paisley’s bedtime routine for the first time. I’d never been here for it. When I spent the night at the house after the thunderstorm, she’d fallen asleep right away. She liked to wash her hair and wear her fluffy teddy bear coat, and she needed some persuasion to change into pajamas afterward. She also wanted to have someone read her a story.
“Does your dad do this with you?” I asked.
“Oh yes, every evening,” she said, comfortably snuggling against me as I started reading her the story.
I was only three pages in when the rhythm of her breathing changed. It was more even now. I glanced down at her, and her eyes were closed, but I still continued. I loved the feeling of her small body next to mine, nuzzling against me like she’d found all the warmth and security she needed. I loved this little squirrel and was already missing her, even though we still had the rest of the summer ahead of us.
I’d always hoped to be a mom by this age. I wanted to have someone to read stories to every night and watch fall asleep, console when they scraped their knees, and hug when they were afraid.She’s not my girl, I told myself, but sometimes, like now, it was easy to forget that she wasn’t really mine even though I knew her favorite color and her favorite toys, and she’d confided in me that she was still a bit afraid of the dark. I needed to remember that I wasn’t part of her life in any meaningful way.
I read for ten more minutes but then stopped because I was afraid my voice would wake her up. I slid out of bed carefully, tiptoeing out of the room, and then stood in the doorway for a few minutes watching her sleeping peacefully before closing the door. I nearly checked my phone, but Tate didn’t say anything about already being on his way, so I assumed his dinner with the clients was going to take longer.
He said I could make myself at home and even go to the wine cellar, but it felt wrong to be there without him, like I was snooping. So instead, I went to the kitchen. I didn’t want to have wine while I was technically still working, so I poured myself a glass of orange juice.
I was a bit restless, and I knew what I needed. I was about to start the music, and then I remembered Paisley was sleeping. I didn’t want to risk waking her up, so I put in my earbuds and turned the volume loud, and then I danced.
Oh yeah.
I loved dancing. It was such a playful way to get rid of excess energy. I even did dance workouts sometimes. I shook my booty and my hips, lowering myself to the ground, then pushed myself back up to the kitchen counter, all the while focusing on keeping my mouth shut. Yep, I was one of those who felt the need to sing along every time.
But I danced and danced, twirling my hips, doing a pirouette, and then a second one until I slammed against something. Againstsomeone.
Oh shit.
Blinking my eyes open, I realized that someone was Tate.
“Oh my God, I’m so sorry,” I exclaimed, scrambling to take out my earbuds and dropping them on the counter. Only then did I realize Tate had an arm around my waist. His pupils had dilated a bit.
I was flush against him, and I didn’t want to pull away even one inch. In fact, all I wanted was to get even closer.
“I didn’t hear you come in,” I whispered.
“Clearly. I called your name a couple times.” A smile was playing on his lips.
I felt every word reverberate in his chest and against my breasts. I smelled his cologne, and all I wanted to do was lean in some more to kiss that spot where his neck met his shoulder.
