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His eyes finally held mine, complete sincerity in their depths. “God no, Ellie. I mean it when I say you deserve better. I’m not just after sex. I don’t want you to think that.”
“Of course I don’t think that, Jake. I just consider sex a perk of dating.”
That drew a tiny half smile from him. He sidled back between my knees and wrapped his hands around my waist. “Well, it can’t be dating if we don’t actually go on adate. And I want to date you, Ellie. Maybe it’s old-fashioned, but please go with me on this. Let me wine and dine you, and when we make love for the first time, it will be candlelight and romance and… fireworks. I want to give you the full 80s movie package.” His voice dropped as he nuzzled the side of my head.
“So no mauling?” I couldn’t help the note of disappointment in my voice.
Jake chuckled, wrapping his arms around my body and pressing a few slow kisses to my head, his breath warm on my hair. “Not tonight. But if that’s what you want, we can arrange it for another time. Anything you want, it’s yours. Just all in due time.”
I heaved a sigh. “Alright, if you insist. But you’d better find a boombox for when that bucket list item comes up.”
He arched back with a laugh. “Yes ma’am. Anything for Ellie Tremont.”
Chapter11
Jake
* * *
“Dad, look at what I made!”
“Dad, Gramma and I made your favorite cookies. Come try one!”
The twin shouts of excitement overlapped as soon as I stepped through my parent’s door, and the kids came running up to me for hugs.
“Hi guys, I missed you too,” I chuckled. And I had—I realized that every time they were gone, the house felt empty. I’d never experienced that in Alabama, even after Cheryl left. I’d been so overwhelmed with everything I had to do, I barely had the brainpower to keep it all together. Every moment alone was like a second for me to catch my breath. Now we seemed to have settled into a flow, and while I enjoyed adult time—especially time like last night—I was genuinely looking forward to having them home again.
I let them pull me through the house so Ethan could show me the model car he had built with my dad’s help. Olivia held a chocolate chip cookie with walnuts under my nose until I gave in and took a bite.
And just like when they were little, and I returned from a deployment, the pair of them clambered on my lap, each claiming a leg, and leaned against me. Despite being quite a bit bigger, they were content to share space. I wrapped my arms around both their middles and squeezed them close, planting a kiss on the back of each head.
My heart thudded in my chest, a tingling feeling prickling my eyes. For the first time in—I wasn’t sure how long—my life felt like it was headed in the right direction. Everything, miraculously, was going well. The kids were happy. I enjoyed my job, and I was sort of seeing an incredible woman who brought out a side of myself I hadn’t seen in ages. I lived just a few blocks from my parents, and we were heading into my favorite season: fall. Everything at this moment was right.
“Meatloaf will be ready in five minutes, guys. Why don’t you two go wash up?” My mom beamed at Ethan and Olivia, and just like that, the moment was over. They hopped off my lap and raced for the bathroom. We could hear them fighting over who got to wash their hands first.
Mom gazed affectionately after them, smiling to herself as they negotiated.
“I got to the sink first!”
“Yeah, but I have the soap! You can’t wash your hands without the soap, Ethan.”
“That’s not fair. You’re not allowed to take the soap off the sink. It’s against the rules!”
“Who said?”
“Guys,” I called after them, laughing. “Olivia, give Ethan the soap, he was there first. Ethan, why don’t you move over and make room for your sister? It’s big enough for you both to wash at the same time.”
The arguing stopped, and after a few moments, both emerged with damp splotches on their shirts.
We sat down to dinner, and after Mom took the kids into the living room to watch a movie while Dad and I cleaned up.
“You’re in a good mood,” he commented, handing me a soapy plate to rinse and dry. Despite retirement, my parents still didn’t believe in dishwashers, apparently.
“I am, actually.”
“Did you have a good weekend?”
“I did. I missed the kids, though.”
