Page 65 of My Wife
“Kind of fell backward into it.”
“You don’t seem like the type to fall, not on the ice or solid ground.”
“I’ve taken a few spills.”
The sweet, buttery scent of the Bundt cake filters from the kitchen, filling my nose along with longing and the truth that I’ll never be loved or even liked—and the man standing an arm’s length away from me is certainly not looking.
Not that I am either, at him, though he is kind of cute in the apron.
“You’re still wearing the—” I start to pull it over his head when he grabs my wrist and stares at it for a long moment. I’m about to tug it away when he closes his eyes.
My heart jitters and that swizzly feeling runs through me when Liam’s gaze meets mine and holds so long I lose track of what happened before this moment.
The oven timer dings, startling me.
I move to brush past him to check the cake and he drops my wrist.
While I like to believe that I generate my own sunshine and warmth, my skin is suddenly cold.
18
LIAM
Jessica barely reaches my shoulder,yet she takes up all the room in my loft. All the space in my head lately.
Over the past few weeks, I’ve noticed new things appear one at a time: a few plush throw pillows on the leather couch, a table and a lamp next to the recliner. A potted plant by the big windows. They miraculously started multiplying. Each day, I find something new.
I can’t complain because it’s tasteful in a rustic and modern way, probably what I would’ve picked if I cared.
She does. So much. It’s almost too much.
I don’t deserve it.
As the cake cools, not wanting the conversation to end, I confess, “About becoming the captain, during the game when I laughed at the coach, I’d been put in the penalty box more times than all games combined in my career.”
She lifts her eyebrows.
“Everyone wondered what had gotten into me.” I let out a long breath, not having spoken about this to anyone.
“So you were grouchier than usual?”
“More like out of sorts. Off my game. Sleep deprived.”
“I know the feeling.”
“On Christmas morning, before dawn, the doorman called me downstairs. Said it was important. I thought there had been an attempted break-in. Sometimes fans get too enthusiastic.” I look pointedly at Jessica.
“Don’t worry about me. I’m not a fan.” She winks, popping her dimple.
“Turns out it was my ex. Sort of. Semi-ex if even that. We knew each other for about six hours in total. She basically left the kid on the doorstep with a plastic bag filled with clothes, the crab, and a note. Merry Christmas to me,” I say dryly.
Her jaw lowers. “I’ll say. KJ is the best Christmas present ever.”
I brush my hand down my face, afraid to see what happens when I drop this bomb. “Jessica, I didn’t know I had a kid.”
Her eyes bulge. “Oh. Then he was a surprise gift. Those are the funnest.”
“I called the authorities. Went through all the proper channels.”
