I crossed my arms. “Are you done yet?” I asked.
“Are you done yet?” she mimicked.
“No, I’m not. I can go all night long, baby,” I said. “I’m not giving up until I get my way, so why don’t you save us the time and effort and just cave already.”
A few moments passed in silence. Nothing but the sound of that trippy-ass music filling the apartment, before her eyes went a little watery. “Come here, you stubborn, sweet woman,” she said, flapping her arms.
I let Holly hug me until I felt like I was going to pass out again.
A couple hours later, the apartment was dark and, other than LJ’s little man-snoring, quiet. In two hours’ time, we’d managed to get them unpacked, worked out a weekly schedule that detailed when I’d be watching LJ as well as a chore and shopping list, bathed LJ (which was more like what I imagined it would be like to wrestle with a slippery sea lion), and cleaned up not one, but two cups of spilled milk.
Neither LJ nor I cried over it, but Holly was close when spill number two wound up on my coat. I’d sent her to bed, promising I’d send LJ in right after he’d had his third try at a cup of milk.
I added spill-proof cup to the shopping list before tucking him in next to Holly, who was already so deep in sleep she didn’t even shift when LJ crawled in beside her.
Until my bed got here, I was camping out on the couch, which was pretty comfortable when you paired it with a couple of cozy blankets and pillows. Almost as soon as my head hit the pillow, I felt myself drifting off to sleep. The day had been exhausting for me, too.
That was when my phone rang.
I snapped awake. I couldn’t believe I’d almost forgotten Jude’s and my nightly call. Blinking to clear my sleepy eyes, I accepted the Face Time request.
“Hey, handsome,” I said, sounding as tired as I felt.
“Shit. Did I wake you, Luce?” His forehead creased, but his mouth stayed formed in a smile.
“If you’d waited another thirty seconds you would have,” I said, shifting onto my elbows. “It was one hell of a day.”
“Good or bad hell of a day?”
“Pretty great really. Just busy. And exhausting,” I said. “Even better now that I get to end it with you.” I took him in, letting myself soak up as much of Jude as I could through the phone. This was all I got for another twenty-four hours. He was back in his hotel after finally coming to his senses that we didn’t need a ten-thousand-square-foot home for our first one. Jude was sitting up in bed, and he was shirtless.
Had I really been tired less than a minute ago? It didn’t seem possible with the way my blood was pumping through my veins right now.
“So . . .” he began, his smile twisting, “you look pretty tired, but I wanted to see if you felt like having some sweet dreams tonight.”
My inner thighs tightened. “I’m not exactly alone anymore,” I whispered, glancing back at the bedroom. “I can’t have regular phone sex with you when a three-year-old’s under the roof.”
“Just be quiet,” he suggested.
I laughed out loud before catching myself. “When was the last time I was able to be quiet during . . . that?”
An eyebrow arched. “Never. But there’s a first time for everything, Luce.” He was so damn confident, I almost wanted to tell him no just out of principle. But I knew I wouldn’t. My body had already started the spiral to the top from his words alone.
“You do know if I have to attempt this whole quiet thing, I’m not going to be able to talk dirty to you. Right?” I said, skimming my fingers down my stomach. My skin was extrasensitive from anticipation.
Jude shifted in bed before holding his boxers in front of the camera. “That’s a sacrifice I’m happy to make.” And then he threw them to the side, giving me a full-monty view.
I swallowed, and then slid my hand under my leggings.
“Aunt Luce?”
I jolted, dropping the phone in the process. “LJ?! What are you doing up?” My voice was two octaves too high.
“I heard voices and wanted to make sure you were okay,” he said, coming around the side of the couch sporting his Avengers pj’s.
The phone had slipped behind the sofa cushions, but I could hear Jude’s low laugh coming through it.
“I’m okay,” I said as I pulled the phone free. “I was just saying good night to Uncle Jude.” Checking the screen to make sure the view had changed, I flashed it in front of LJ.
“Uncle Jude!” His face lit up like Jude was cooler than bubble gum.
“Hey, little man. How’s it going?”
“Good, but don’t talk too loud, okay?” he asked, lifting his finger to his mouth. “Mom doesn’t know I snuck out of bed.”
“You got up to check on Aunt Luce?”
LJ nodded.
“Good job,” Jude said. “You’re the man of the house now, so I’m trusting you to take care of your mom and Aunt Luce.”
“Jude, he’s three,” I said, turning the screen toward me. He’d shrugged into a shirt faster than he could get mine off.
“I’m almost four,” LJ said proudly.
“Yeah, Luce. He’s almost four.”
“All right, man of the house,” I said, turning the screen back toward LJ. “Say good night. It’s way past your bedtime.”
“One more minute?” LJ begged.
“Yeah, one more minute?” Jude’s voice joined in.
I sighed. “Fine.”
LJ did a little dance.
“Phone five,” Jude said, as LJ high-fived the screen.
“Thanks for the football, Uncle Jude. Will you teach me to throw it one thousand yards?” It was dark, but LJ’s eyes were twinkling.
“I’ll teach you to throw it ten thousand yards.”
“Wow,” LJ replied, dumbfounded.
“I’ll take you to the park when I come visit in a couple weeks. In the meantime, practice snapping your arm back and following through on your throw.”
LJ’s eyes squinted while he stored these instructions away.
“You’ll be throwing like a pro before you know it.”
“And . . . time,” I interrupted, realizing that if I was going to be watching this kid six days a week, I’d have to get used to being a responsible adult.
LJ groaned and hung his shoulders.
“Listen to your aunt Luce, little man,” Jude said. “From one guy to another, here’s a word of advice: You’re going to have to figure out what battles are worth fighting. And this isn’t one you’ll win.”
LJ contemplated that pearl of wisdom for all of a second before nodding his head. “Okay. Good night, Uncle Jude. Good night, Aunt Luce.” He waved and started for the bedroom. “I love you.”
I turned the phone so Jude could watch him go. “Love you, little man.”
When I heard the bedroom door click shut, I spun the phone around. “That was a major crisis averted,” I teased, as his smile grew when he saw me.
“That, Luce, was a major crisis delayed,” he implied, letting those words settle.
Jude Ryder . . . hopeless optimist.
“No, Jude,” I said, propping the phone up against a stack of coasters on the coffee table. “That was a major crisis called on account of weather.”
“Luce, no way.” He groaned. “You got me all excited and now you’re giving me the airtime c*ck block?”
I turned onto my side, trying not to laugh. “No. I’m going to sleep,” I replied, blowing him a kiss. “Good night. Love you, Jude.”
A good minute after I’d closed my eyes, he sighed. I never knew so many emotions could reside in one sigh. “Good night. Love you, Luce.”
That night, my dreams picked up where Jude and I had let off. Ecstasy.
FOURTEEN
I’d fallen asleep on Monday night and it was Friday when I woke up.
It was amazing how time could move so fast when your life was filled with a nine-to-five office job, mac ’n’ cheese dinners, Yo Gabba Gabba! dates, precious hours squeezed in at the dance studio, and nightly calls from the love of my life.
So far, Holly loved her job, and I actually looked forward to getting home so I could hang with a three-almost-four-year-old every night. It was impossible to experience any degree of self-pity when you were in the presence of a kiddo who was as happy and energetic as LJ. Plus, after chasing him around for four hours, I was able to fall asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow.
Much to Jude’s dismay.
I was smiling to myself as I played through the many puppy-dog faces and pleas that Jude had come up with this week, when Anton burst out of his office.
“Checked tie or striped tie?” he asked, bobbing two ties in front of me.
Apparently personal wardrobe consultant was now one of the many hats I wore here at Xavier Industries. Work had been going well. I was learning the ropes, and I was so busy the days flew by. I’d done so much typing and created so many spreadsheets, I was sure I could complete my job with my eyes closed.
“What’s the occasion?” I asked, powering down my computer. It was a few minutes after five on a Friday night.
“Dinner with a blind date,” he said, inspecting the ties critically. “Some girl my friend went to school with. She’s a graphic designer, likes glam rock, and runs marathons. That’s all I know about her, which is why I’m coming up empty in the tie selection endeavor.”
If Anton thought selecting the right tie was the be-all-end-all when it came to getting a second date, I understood why he was still single.
“The checked one,” I said, tapping it with the end of my pen.
The skin between his brows lined. “So confident. So certain,” he said, holding the checked tie up. “How did you decide?”
I used the Pythagorean theorem and square-rooted the null set. I was an insufferable smart-ass.
“It’s the one I like,” I said, shrugging.
Anton’s face relaxed. Nodding, he appraised the tie with new eyes. “The checked one it is,” he said, heading back for his office. “Thanks, Lucy. Have a nice weekend.”
“Do you need anything else?” I asked, already shouldering my purse. I had our first ever Friday-night dinner to prepare for five tonight, and, while Anton had been true to his word and not brought my relationship up again this week, I felt uncomfortable being alone with him.
And it made me mad. Other than some harmless flirting, Anton had been a true gentleman, going so far as to walk me to my car every night to make sure I got to it safely. I shouldn’t feel uneasy to be alone with another man, and the fact that I did made me even more uneasy.
“No, it’s quitting time,” he said from his office. “I’m out of here, too, so I’ll walk you out.” Reappearing with the checked tie in place and a tweed vest instead of his suit jacket, he held open the office door and waited for me.
I turned off the lights and went through the door as fast as I could. He’d put on some cologne that was spicy and sweet-smelling, and the fact that I noticed set me on edge.