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I frowned. Did Jake still have a drinking problem that he was trying to get over? Because if so… “That’s fine, I don’t feel like beer either, Matt.”
My brother seemed to catch on pretty quickly. “Okay. I’ll just grab soda, then.”
“Sounds good.”
Jake gave me a slight nod, thanking me. I nodded back. Shit. I was well aware of Jake’s past history with drinking, but I was annoyed at myself for not realizing up till now that it could very well be something he was still battling.
Once they’d all left, I tidied up the kitchen and went and sat in my office for a little while, admiring the new furniture. The guys had done such a great job setting it up and I loved it. Working in here was going to be a dream. I needed to get something for the walls, though, to keep me inspired. Maybe a picture of that lake near Seattle—
With a shake of my head, I let out a sigh.Stop doing that!The last thing I needed in my office, where I spent hours and hours every day, was a reminder of that weekend. And Dante.
Who was I kidding? It was pointless. Everything made me think about him. He’d wriggled his way into every aspect of my waking life. And yet I was unlikely to ever see him again.
I really needed to let it go.
* * *
Not only did thoughts of Dante fill my mind when I was awake, he was a regular star in my dream life, too. I dreamt about him nearly every night, to the point where I almost couldn’t wait to go to sleep. Sometimes the dreams were hot, and I would wake up, drenched in need. Sometimes they were sweet, where we were just shopping or walking around. He’d tell me how beautiful I was and kiss me tenderly.
There was one dream that happened frequently, though, and it was frankly a little bit weird: we were in a big brass bed, floating on a calm, inky blue ocean. Bright stars spangled the sky above us as we lay there, with Dante’s hand resting on my stomach. He’d smile at me and I’d smile back, feeling such peace and happiness that when I woke and realized it was just a dream, I wanted to cry.
I don’t know if it was the dreams that did it, or maybe I just wasn’t suited to living on my own, but I started to find myself feeling a bit lost. I loved having my own house and having complete control over my space, but I just didn’t love the actual being alone part. There was a constant, nagging feeling that something was missing.
CHAPTER13
Lucy
“And in the morning, I’m making WAFFLES.”
“Nice, Chloe,” I chuckled. “That’s it, stir it like that. You wanna try cracking the eggs, Mila?” Chloe’s twin sister nodded her head solemnly. The two four-year-olds girls were polar opposites: where Chloe was a loud chatterbox, always making people laugh, Mila was very quiet, constantly watching everyone around her, taking everything in.
They’d slept over last night and were now in my kitchen making waffles because, according to my sister Elissa, Mila had told her I was “sad”. This spurred Chloe into action. She decided that the best way to cheer me up was to have the two of them stay with me, eat sausages and grits for dinner, ice cream for dessert, watch a Shrek movie marathon, and finish up with pancakes for breakfast. The pancakes turned into waffles, thanks to Donkey.
They were good girls, and I’d loved every second of it, but Mila had been pretty close: I wasn’tsad, exactly. Just flat, I guess would be a better word. Or empty. I was really struggling to find my mojo.
“Good girl,” I said, helping Mila stir the eggs into the mix.
It didn’t seem to matter what I did to try and feel better. Nothing worked. I’d sat in my office for three days straight putting together a five-year plan. I’d plotted a chart for business growth, which led to budgeting for some house upgrades, and ideas for investing the surplus. It was so good to see it all mapped out and know that I could achieve it. It was also the sort of thing that normally made me feel calm and in control. This time it hadn’t worked, and I knew why. The personal life plan was…not great. The years stretched ahead of me, lonely and empty.
It had made me add something to the plan that I’d never had in there before. I was already thirty, and I decided that if I hadn’t met someone by the time I was thirty-five, I was going to have a baby on my own. It felt huge, to write that down, but also completely right. I’d be in a great position financially by then, and living back in Esperance meant I had all the family support I needed. It was totally doable. Seeing it laid out like that, I promised myself that before I got into another committed relationship, the guy had to be absolutely sure he wanted kids with me. Anything less was a deal breaker.
While I was having all those ideas and making all those plans, I resolutely pushed any thoughts about Dante away, no matter how hard they tried to creep in. It had been four weeks since Seattle. Seriously time to stop thinking about him.
“Okay, the next part involves the hot iron, so you girls can set the table instead.”
“Can we have maple syrup, Auntie Lucy?”
“You sure can, Chlo. Is that all right, Mila? Or would you like something different?”
“Sprinkles?” she asked quietly.
“Yes! That’s a great idea.” I pointed to a low cupboard where I kept all my baking stuff. “They’re in there.” I watched them as they set the table, Chloe chatting all the while, and smiled fondly. Damn, they were cute. Having them sleep over had only reinforced my desire to have kids of my own. Maybe five years was too long to wait. Maybe I could bring it forward. Thirty-three was a good age, and that gave me just over three years to work the plan.
“Hellooooo!”
“Mommy!” Chloe and Mila raced to the front door and I hustled after them, scooping baby Xavier from my sister’s arms so that she could cuddle her daughters.
“You’re just in time for waffles,” I said when the girls had finished greeting her.
