“You ready, Colby?” My dad’s hand is in my face, and I shake my head before glancing up to see him standing and waiting to help me to my feet.
“Uh, oh. Yeah, I guess we should probably get going,” I say, realizing the sun is about to dip below the horizon. I wanted to freshen up at my dad’s house before hopping on the plane.
“Thanks,” I say, taking my dad’s hand. Before I steady my feet, though, Jayden’s hands are at my sides, guiding me up. The two most influential men in my life are working together to get me on my feet. It feels surreal. And also, a bit like each is fighting to prove they’re the bigger rock in my life.
I shake my head.I need to get my head on right.
“Would it be possible . . . I mean, would you mind if . . .” Jayden pulls his bag up on his shoulder before he shrugs. His mouth forms a straight line, pulling in tight at one corner.
“You’re family, Jayden. Of course you can come back to the house. And we’ll get you to the airport.”
My dad slings an arm around him, and I linger behind the two of them as they head toward the truck. I pick up the blanket, shaking dry grass from the fringed edges, then roll it and tuck it under my arm. I rest my palm on top of the simple headstone that serves as my only place of worship and respite, then press a kiss to the cold concrete.
“Happy Mother’s Day, Mom,” I whisper.
The usual tears don’t prick at the corners of my eyes as I trudge to my dad’s truck, and I wonder if our added guest for this often-difficult day has something to do with that.
TEN
JAYDEN
I never knew the sound of water flowing through a thirty-year-old plumbing system could be so tantalizing. I’ve been sitting right outside the spare bathroom door while Colby showers for exactly six minutes, and I don’t know if I’ve taken a full breath the entire time. I’m sure as hell glad her dad left me to sit up here in the loft alone while he took care of some housework downstairs.
It’s the way the water sounds trickling down her body. The occasional heavier splash as she likely slides the excess water and shampoo from her hair. I’ve imagined her rubbing body wash along her calves and thighs, then leaning back as water cascades between her breasts. Fucking hell, I need to leave this loft. Of course, my dick is hard as a rock and I’m wearing joggers.
The water turns off, and I flex my palms along the arms of the leather chair as my eyes widen in anticipation.
She’s running a fluffy white towel along her shoulders and arms, drying her body, wrapping the towel around her, and tucking the corner into the top so it squeezes her breasts together.
The door clicks, and I lean forward, resting my elbows on my knees so I can pinch my brow and stare at the hardwood floors under my feet. Sweet Jesus, help me out of this one.
“It’s free now, if you wanted to take one?” Her voice is soft, inviting.No, not inviting, you dumb ass. She’s being polite.
“I’ll be fine.” I lift my free hand but keep my eyes locked on the grain in the wood, the tight joints where the planks interlock. I remember when Coach Kessler installed these floors. He did good work . . .oh fuck, I see her bare toes.
“It won’t take long, and it will make you feel better. Here,” she says, a blue towel cutting into my vision. I lift my head, and thankfully, she’s not in a towel. She is in a long T-shirt, and those tiny black bike shorts that are really more like underwear. Her shirt sticks to her moist skin in places, like the curve of her breast. And fuck me, her nipples.
She tugs the cotton outward, as though realizing what’s on display. I snag the towel from her, and she covers her chest with her arms.
“Yeah, you’re probably right. Thanks.” I beeline my way into the bathroom and close the door behind me.
I toss the towel on the floor and pull back the shower curtain, flipping the water on and holding my palm under the spray for a few seconds. I run my wet palm over my face, then kick my clothes off and scurry into the shower before the hot water is gone.
Colby was right. The spray peppers my face and works out the tightness in my jaw. I’m almost relaxing, letting go of the unease that’s plagued me since I showed up and interrupted Colby and her dad’s afternoon at the cemetery, when there’s a soft knock at the door and a creak as it barely opens.
“I’m so sorry, but I left the rest of my clothes in here. Can I . . . I won’t look, I swear.” The nervous giggle that leaves Colby’slips stops hard when I peek my head out of the curtain, and our eyes meet. She tucks her bottom lip under her teeth.Jesus.
“No problem,” I blurt before running my palm over my face to clear the water droplets from my lashes.
“Thanks,” she utters, spinning around and scooping her sweatpants and what looks like a lacy pair of panties into her arms. She rushes out the door, pulling it shut the second she escapes, and I stare at the tiny space where the wood meets the jamb for about a full minute while the hot water loses its potency against my spine.
I rinse the shampoo from my hair before I’m left with nothing but cold water, then dry off and slip back into my clothes in minutes. I open the door to find Rick leaning against the banister like a protective alpha guarding his offspring.
“I bet you feel like a brand-new man,” he says, his biceps flexed under the tight cuffs of his T-shirt sleeves.
“Yeah, I do. It’ll be nice to just dive into bed and fall asleep when I get home.”
Alone.
