Page 37 of Surrender

I finish that sip I meant to take and rest my bottle on the armrest. “How was bath time?”

She changed into a baggy Arizona State sweatshirt and a pair of black leggings. Fuzzy purple socks pulled to the middle of her shin. Clenching my jaw, I train my eyes back on the dancing flames.

“Uneventful. Thankfully. They’re both sleeping now.”

I nod. “That’s good.”

“Listen, Jack. There’s something I need to say to you. It’s really not that big of a deal, but I couldn’t stop thinking about it while I was getting the kids cleaned up, and I guess the saying it’s better out than in can apply to words, right? Because this thought just isn’t leaving me alone.”

The second she said my name, I focused all my attention on her. I could listen to her nervous babbling for hours, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t intrigued by whatever has her this worked up.

Whitney takes a deep breath. “It’s just that I’m embarrassed. You’ve been more than hospitable and accommodating, and I’ve been trouble since I showed up.”

Maybe I like trouble.

I swallow the words with a sip of beer.

“Your guests complain about me, my kid ruins your couch, you’ve had your hands full with children who aren’t yours, and on top of all of that, I coerced you into staying here. You could have had a nice couple of quiet days to yourself, and I ruined—”

“You think you coerced me?”

“Didn’t I?”

“How? By bringing up the very real issue of my safety and yours? God forbid the pipes burst or the power went out and nobody could get to you. You presented an argument based on reason. That’s hardly coercion.”

“That still doesn’t change the fact you could have had less chaos.”

“What if I like chaos?” Shut up, shut up, shut up! What am I saying? But the dam broke, and I keep going. “Maybe I like holding Bennett so you can get a break, and the homecooked meal, and a little bossy girl who calls me Mr. Jack.”

“Can you just listen? You aren’t helping.”

“Helping what?”

“God, I used to have the biggest crush on you,” she mutters, burying her face in her hands. It isn’t quiet enough to escape my notice.

Things just got interesting.

“Hold on to that thought.”

She gasps, “Wait!”

But I’m already out of my chair. I stop in the hall closet to pull out a couple of blankets and extra pillows, then move to the fridge to grab the rest of the six-pack of beer. Ignoring her confused stare, I arrange the items in front of the fireplace and drop down onto my ass, patting the spot to my right.

Whitney bites the edge of her lips, hesitating for only a moment before she slips off the couch and settles on a pillow across from me.

“Now, let’s start that last part again.”

She picks up a pillow and tosses it at my chest. “You weren’t supposed to hear that.”

“Come on, tell me. What did little Whitney like about little Jack?”

Her gaze trails from my face down my body, forging a path of fire across my skin. “I don’t think you can ever refer to yourself as little. Even back then.”

“Fair enough.” I pop the top off a fresh bottle and hand it to her. “I never knew you had a crush on me.”

“Yeah, well, that’s how I wanted it most days. But sometimes I wished you’d just notice me.”

I huff a laugh. “Is that why you let me catch you naked?”

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