“Oh?”
I shrugged. “We basically get together once a month to drink wine and read old historical letters to each other.”
Jace’s expression grew curious. “Why old letters?”
“It was always an interest of Ozzie’s. You know he’s a secondary school history teacher now? Well, he has a passion for finding old letters, and he got the rest of us into it, too. There are some really funny and interesting ones out there.”
He smiled softly. “That’s cute.” There was a short pause before he continued, “So, is there anything I should know about the school run? Any annoying parents to avoid?”
I bit my lip. There were a few nosy parents who’d probably try to quiz him about being back in Ireland and if he planned on staying. “Laura Delamare might try to talk to you. She’s the head of the parents’ association and her daughter is in Zara’s class. She’s super nosy, wants to be in everyone’s business. You’ll recognise her because she has very bright red hair, and it’s always up in a high ponytail.”
As I spoke, I noticed his eyes never strayed from my profile, and it made my throat a little dry. I just wanted to blurt out the question and ask if he’d heard Margie and me talking, but it was too embarrassing. Perhaps it was better not knowing.
Unable to take any more of his probing stares, I turned and began searching through my cupboard for one of my reusable travel mugs for Jace’s coffee. They were all on the top shelf because I didn’t use them often, and when I reached up on my tiptoes, I felt heat behind me. I hadn’t even noticed he’d gotten so close. He reached above me, his chest softly brushing my shoulders as he murmured, “Let me get that for you.”
My breath hitched, warmth spreading across my back where we touched. He grabbed the mug I’d been reaching for, then handed it to me. “I could’ve easily gotten that myself,” I snapped, reprimand in my voice because he’d clearly used it as an opportunity to get close. He’d always enjoyed flustering me.
His eyes flashed, a slow smirk tugging at his lips. When he didn’t respond right away, but instead continued staring, I grew even more flustered. “What?”
Jace shrugged. “I forgot how enjoyable it is when you put me in my place.” He moved closer, his mouth a scant inch from my ear when he bent to murmur, “Iliketo be disciplined.”
Did he really just say that? It took me a moment or two to regulate my breathing. It certainly wasn’t a good sign that his proximity could make me this hot and bothered. His insinuation that I was some kind of dominatrix when we were together was ridiculous and far from the truth, though Jace had always gotten turned on when I was strict or uptight with him. Then he’d go out of his way to loosen me up, and okay, I did not need to be thinking aboutthat.
“I’m nearly ready, Dad!” Zara called from upstairs, and I was more than glad for the interruption.
When Jace noticed I was pouring his coffee into the reusable mug instead of a normal one, he smiled. “Trying to get rid of me?”
“No,” I replied, unable to disguise my agitation. “You’ll just need to leave now if you want to make it to the school on time. Traffic can be crazy at this hour.”
“Right,” he said, a note in his voice like he didn’t believe me. Well, it was true about the traffic, which wasn’t normally a problem for me since I walked Zara to school. But yes, it was also true that I wanted rid of him. The tension was unbearably thick between us, and I was eager to escape it.
I handed him the mug just as Zara appeared. “Here, just bring it back later.”
“Sure,” he replied, his fingers briefly brushing mine, sparking more heat, as he turned to Zara. “Well, look at you all cute and smart in your uniform,” he said, throwing his arm around her shoulders and taking her bag to carry it for her. “Come on. Let’s get you to school, kiddo.”
As soon as he was gone, I felt like I could breathe again. How was it that his presence managed to fill up every nook and cranny of my house? Must’ve been his rockstar aura or something. People who were used to arenas filled with thousands of adoring fans screaming their name developed a sort of charisma most of us would never achieve.
Trying to clear my thoughts of Jace, I picked up my phone and considered creating a profile on one of the dating apps Margie had recommended. There was no time like the present, and I certainly needed something to distract me from my ex-husband’s sudden presence in my life. I quickly put together a profile, attaching a nice picture Zara had taken of me a couple weeks ago at Ashtown Castle.
Setting down my phone, I decided I’d leave it a few hours before checking back to see if I’d gotten any interest. I went to shower, then set to work at my standing desk that I’d set up by the window in the kitchen. It looked out into our small back garden. I’d thought it would be good for my mental healthto have some greenery to look at while I stared at a computer screen all day. I was in the middle of testing a retail site we’d created for one of our clients that specialized in selling jars of manuka honey from New Zealand, and by a process of osmosis, I was now basically an expert in the stuff. I could recite all the health benefits by heart. That was one of the nice sides to my job, I got to learn about different things depending on the kind of site I was working on.
For lunch, I put together a tuna wrap and turned on the coffee machine before checking my phone. My eyebrows shot up when I saw I’d gotten over ten matches since setting up my profile only a couple hours ago.Well. I hadn’t expected so much interest, and as I sat down to eat and scroll through the matches, I found there were actually a few decent options. One in particular stood out. His name was Rufus, and he was thirty years old, also a web developer and a divorced dad of two. His profile stated his hobbies included canoeing, hiking, and travel. He sounded a lot more adventurous and outdoorsy than me, but I imagined we’d have a few things in common career and divorce wise, although I doubted his ex-wife was a world famous rockstar.
Feeling brave, I sent him a message.
Me: Hello, how are you?
I set my phone down and continued eating my lunch. A few minutes later, it pinged with a response.
Rufus: I’m good :) You?
I put my wrap aside and composed another message.
Me: Doing well, just WFH today.
Rufus: I’m in the office. Have to go in once a week. My least favourite day, especially since I have to brave the dreaded M50 in the mornings :/
Me: Commiserations. I only have office days once a month—and thankfully, I don’t drive, so no M50 for me, although the bus can be a gauntlet at times.
