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As a thirty-eight-year-old man, I don’t think much of cuddling. Fucking? Yeah, that crosses my mind, but cuddling? Never.
Unless it’s with my boy.
A mother would cuddle their son. A loving, warm mother would, at least. And because Tessa left, it’s myprivilege to cuddle him. Show him the softness and warmth that children usually find in their mothers. Not saying men can’t be soft and tender—they can. That’s fine. Deuce has that side in him.
It’s harder for me. But I’ve grown comfortable in sharing that side of myself with my son. For my son.
But tonight, there will be no slowed evening, comfortable cuddles, and scattered snacks.
My fingers twist the top button on my shirt, but it leaves me feeling strangled, so I unbutton it. Taking a step back, I peer uncomfortably at my reflection.
Dark jeans, a nice white button-up that I haven’t worn since I went to Deuce and Ev’s engagement party last year, and my nice black boots. Ones that haven’t trekked through cow patties and horseshit. Freshly shaved, I pull my hand down my face, igniting the scent of the aftershave smeared into my skin. I wear aftershave every day, but I usually shave in the morning. Smelling it at night just feels…weird.
I’m a creature of habit, and I realize finding someone to share mine and Bear’s life with requires breaking the habit, but I don’t want to. Not right now. Not yet.
And yet.. I do want someone. I do want to break the habit. Just not with Tiffani.
But I promised Ev. And she deserves her life. Hell, Deuce too.
“You look great,” my sister says, stepping into my bedroom since the door is always open. Another great thing about ignoring all of your primal male needs is that you never get caught doing anything unsavory by your little sister who is at your house as much as you are.
“I don’t want to go,” I say again, angry at myself for notbeing able to hold it in. “Sorry,” I add, wincing. We turned it into a double date to take the pressure off, and I’m glad. I don’t want to have a meal with Tiffani Ledbetter, but it makes it slightly less terrible if Ev and Deuce are there.
“Just… keep an open mind, okay?” She smiles, smoothing her hands down my shoulders, taking a small wrinkle from my shirt with her. “Tiffani’s nice.”
“You went to State with her?” I ask, trying to remember the connection again. “I don’t remember meeting her when I’d visit.” I visited my sister in college several times, conveniently when she needed help moving, putting something together or repairing something she broke. I was always glad to do it and show up for her the way our dad would’ve had he still been around.
“Yeah,” she says, tucking hair behind her ear. “We had different majors, but we were in the same graduating class. We even had a few classes together.”
I nod. “Okay.”
My sister folds her arms over her chest, narrowing her eyes at me. I shake my head. “I don’t know why I’m in trouble,” I admit, buckling my belt. “But quit giving me that look.”
Ev flops down on the edge of my bed, exasperated. “You didn’t ask me a single question about her!”
My brows pull together. “I just did. I asked if you went to college with her.”
She smacks the mattress. “You already knew that! You didn’t ask anything new! Like… What did she do after graduation? What does she do for a living? What’s she like?”
I turn away from the mirror, smoothing my hands through the sides of my hair. I need a haircut. What Ev haspreviously noted as the“Henry Cavill coif” is now moving into unacceptable territory for a man my age.
Ev rattles a list of things to ask Tiffani at dinner, as if I’ve never been around other human beings, and I let her go while my mind drifts to my last haircut.
I pulled my hat off in the barn one day, sifting my hand through my long, sweat-laden hair. Dolly had been playing hide-and-seek with Bear, and she popped out from behind a bale of hay, her finger pressed to the center of her lips. My heart raced, and though I never admitted it to myself, I don’t think it was because she startled me.
The way her eyes raked over me that day, it was unlike any way I’d ever been looked at before. It was like she was taking me in and saving me off as a file in her brain to revisit later. And before I could feel guilty about liking it, she whispered, “After hide-and-seek, I can give you a trim.” Her tongue slid along her bottom lip as she added, “You know, if you want it off your neck.”
I don’t know why but right then, with nineteen-year-old Dolly crouched behind a bale of hay in overalls, a long blue ribbon in her ponytail, I envisioned her hand curling the back of my neck, bringing our faces together.
I let her cut my hair. And that was also the last time I gave in to my urges, spilling weeks down the shower drain.
All from the soft fluttering of her fingertips against my neck, the gentle grazing along my scalp, and the tender way she stroked my skin to cast off the trimmings.
“Are you listening?” Ev asks, getting to her feet. If we were in a movie, I think my chest would be full of smoking holes from her laser glare.
I push Dolly from my mind, because Ishould notbethinking of her. She’s so young. But more so, I’m about to see her because she agreed to watch Bear tonight.
“I’m listening.” I lift my hands in innocence. “I’ll ask her questions, okay?”
