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“Don’t look so smug, babe.” He whispers into my ear. I try to twist my face into a neutral expression because I’m sure I did look smug as fuck. I can’t help it. He’s basically claiming me in front of these other women. I shouldn’t like it, but I do.
Instead of answering him my eyes drift back to where Oliver is painting with acrylics on a canvas. One of the student teachers is standing next to him and pointing out something in his painting and he’s smiling and nodding. I can’t help but smile as well, he looks so happy. Maybe happier than I’ve ever seen him. Up until this point he’s just been drawing. He’s filled up several pads with sketches of everything within his sight. He hasn’t tried painting yet, but he seems to be taking to it without issue. I’m sure I could gather up some of my extra supplies and bring them over for him to use. Plus, for my birthday my dad gave me a monthly credit at Dark Arts and Crafts. It’s more than I need every month so maybe I’ll take him to pick out some supplies he can play around with.
The ninety-minute class seems to fly by as I watch Oliver paint and ask questions. Before I know it, he’s running over to us, canvas in hand.
“Whoa. Slow down, buddy. Let’s let this dry,” Carson says, plucking the canvas from his hands. We both look at what he’spainted and give each other the side eye, trying to hide our smiles.
On the canvas there is a rather realistic scene of a giraffe walking amongst the brush and tall grass of a plain. However, just like with the model he made out of clay, the giraffe’s neck is short. So short, one might even call it stumpy.
“This is really good, Oliver. I love the way you made the bushes. How do you know where giraffes live?” I ask.
“I have a book all about animals.” He grabs my hand and starts tugging me towards the door where the rest of the kids and their parents are emptying out of the room. “C’mon Bianca, let’s go.”
As I dutifully follow behind him, Carson stays at my side and I can’t help but whisper to him, “I thought you were going to take him to the zoo.”
“I’m going to, but until then I got him a book with pictures. Apparently, he didn’t notice their necks.”
As we’re making our way back to the car Oliver spots a small farmer’s market that’s doubling as a craft fair and before I know it, we’re walking along the stalls of fresh fruits and vegetables dotted with handmade jewelry and soaps.
Oliver’s maneuvered himself in between Carson and me and has a grip on each of our hands. Anyone looking at us would think we were a family out for a Saturday stroll. The thought makes my chest tighten and breathing suddenly becomes more difficult. I’m not even sure if it’s because that thought makes me happy or scared to fucking death.
Get your shit together Bianca. You’re better than this.
“Look at these!” Oliver pulls us towards a stall filled with hand knitted scarves, hats, and mittens. They really are well done, and I run my hand over one of the scarves taking in the softness of the yarn.
“Daddy, can I get this for Bianca?”
“Oh, no Oliver. You don’t need to get me anything. I’m fine. But thank you for thinking of me.”
“But it’s for your birthday,” he says. “I didn’t get you anything.”
I’m just about to protest that I don’t need anything from him for my birthday when Carson butts in. “You’re right, bud. Is this the one you want to get her?” He points to the scarf I was just touching waiting for Oliver to answer. He nods his head emphatically and Carson picks it up and takes it over to the vendor.
“Carson, I really don’t need—“
“Bianca, you’re going to have to get used to people doing nice things for you. It was your birthday. We want you to have it.”
I can feel my cheeks pinken at the thought of these two doing nice things for me. Instead of addressing Carson I bend down so that I’m level with Oliver. “Thank you for my scarf. It’s beautiful.”
“You’re welcome.” He jumps forward and gives me a hug so big I almost fall back on my ass. I’m able to steady myself and wrap my arms around him returning his hug. When I finally release him and stand back up Carson comes up behind me and gently wraps the scarf around my neck, carefully tucking in the ends and making sure none of my skin is left exposed to the chilly wind.
“Thanks to you too, you really didn’t have to.”
He brushes a strand of hair out of my face and gently tucks it behind my ear. “Of course I didn’t have to, I wanted to. You deserve something special.” His green eyes are penetrating and I feel like they can see into my soul. I quickly avert my own, fearing he may see too much. I don’t know what to say. Between the two of them I feel…cherished. It’s a weird feeling I’m not used to. I have plenty of love in my life between my parents andmy friends, I’m not discounting them or the special place they all have in my heart, but I’ve never felt so considered and cared for.
While I’m letting my thoughts fly through my head like fireflies, Carson leans forward and places another kiss on my head, just like he did when we were in class. I close my eyes and let myself feel, just for a second. There’s no harm in that. It doesn’t have to mean anything. It can’t possibly hurt to just take these few hours and feel truly special and cared for, can it?
Chapter Fifteen
Carson
It’s been a few weeks now since I decided to lay siege to Bianca’s walls and to tell you the truth, I’m not sure how it’s going. She hasn’t called me Detective Dickwad in a while, so I guess that’s progress. The only one my efforts definitely seem to be working on is me. I’m in so deep with this girl I’m not sure I’ll ever see the light of day again. She still fights me like a hellcat every chance she gets, and I should probably be ashamed of how turned on that makes me.
I want to give her time to get used to the idea of there being an us, so every chance I get I pull Bianca into our lives. She has dinner with us most nights, runs errands with us, hell, she even picks Oliver up from Grace’s on nights when I’m running really late. Grace keeps making not so subtle hints that I need to lock Bianca down and all I can tell her is that I’m trying.
She’s taken us to a bunch of tourist traps on the weekends, things she said she did when she first moved to Seattle. She claims they’re a rite of passage for every Seattle transplant. Sowe’ve been to Pike’s Place Market, seen the Space Needle, we even took Oliver to the zoo last weekend to see the giraffes. He still insists on making them with stubby little necks though. What can you do?
On the outside you’d think we were a happy couple, hell, a happy family. I’ve even let her disorder my perfectly ordered life. There’s makeup strewn on my bathroom counter, shoes all over the place, sketchpads and pencils covering every surface.
