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“Hey,” I tell her. “They’re safe.”
She nods, lifting her lemon water back to her lips. I try not to get lost in the single drop clinging to her lower lip when she lowers the glass.
“They asked where you were. I sent them with Dad to look for you, but I get the feeling he’s purposely taking them to each individual booth and buying them sweets in retaliation for me getting on him at the store,” I tell her.
Her smile is soft, and it makes me wonder where her head is at right now.
She looks tired, and I know that’s my fault. I caught her nodding off yesterday on the sofa after I put the boys to bed. The woman could hardly hold her head up because I keep sneaking into her room and taking what I want from her body. If she wasn’t willing to speak up for herself and ask for a break, then itwas up to me to provide one. Only this morning, the darkness under her eyes doesn’t seem to have faded.
I fought going to her. I even got out of bed at three with the mental excuse that I needed to pee, only to end up standing outside her door. I crave this woman, and it scares me that I knew if I went into her room, all I’d do is wrap my arms around her and sleep.
That isn’t part of the plan. It isn’t what we agreed on. Changing the rules now could lead to her pulling the plug on the whole damn thing, and I’m not willing to risk it.
“He’s different with them than he was with you,” she says, her eyes still scanning over the crowd as if she won’t fully believe the boys are fine until she sees it for herself.
I reposition my body, facing outward toward the event instead of angled in her direction.
“How so?” I ask.
I know how Dad is different, but I’m curious to hear what other people see from the outside. I’ve always asked myself if it was all in my head how tough Dad was on me growing up.
“He’s not as strict. I remember once at a barbecue at your house, he refused to let you eat two cupcakes because one was already more than enough. Athletes have to be strong and have strict diets. The sugar in that thing isn’t worth the extra miles you’d have to run tomorrow.”
She alters her voice, making it lower, more masculine, but it sounds nothing like my father.
In my head, I can hear his exact words, not because I remember that instance but because I heard it so often.
“I wouldn’t have made it to the pros if it wasn’t for that man.”
“How very diplomatic of you,” she mutters. “You were eleven at that barbecue. It would’ve been just as effective if he had told you that it was too much sugar, and left it at that, but he added a punishment if you made the choice to get a second one.”
“No one needs two desserts, Madison. He had a point.”
Her cute little nose is scrunched up when I look over at her.
“I just had two ice creams at Adalynn’s booth. What do you have to say about that?”
“This is a community event. So it’s fine to indulge.”
“That barbecue was your birthday party, Chase.” She draws in a deep breath, her eyes closing at the same time she lifts her hands in defeat. “You know what, not my battle.”
I resist the urge to pull her to my chest and remind her that we can very easily work off any calories she eats today once the boys go to bed. I doubt she would smile and take it into consideration. She’s a woman. Don’t all women get offended when you talk about calories and weight and diet, and anything else they can twist around to think you’re calling them fat?
Maybe a little distance between us is a good thing. I’m too quick to want to make this woman happy in and out of the bedroom, and that’s not what we’re supposed to be doing.
At night, she’s supposed to moan my name. During the day, she’s the boys’ nanny. Hell, today is her day off, and here I am bugging the hell out of her. She made her position well known when she opted to drive her own car to this event rather than climbing into the SUV with the boys and me.
Maybe our fun has run its course?
Maybe a week of nightly bliss is all I was ever meant to have.
“Well,” I begin, needing to make an excuse to give her some distance.
“Madison!”
Her smile, a real one, one she hasn’t given me today, spreads across her face as Cale and Cole come running up. I know she’ll never tell the boys she can’t hang out with them, so it’s up to me.
“Boys,” I say, stepping in front of Madison before they can plow her over. “She’s not working today. Let’s go grab some ice cream.”
