Page 3 of Playing With Fire
I grab the small package and the gift I bought, tuck my signing pad into the holster on my shorts, and head for the double front doors, sweat already soaking the rim of my backwards hat thanks to the late August heat in the south.
Remembering not to ring the bell this time, I tap lightly in the center of the glass. A minute goes by with no answer. I would just leave the package like I do for most, but her packages always require a signature.
I tap a little louder this time and sigh in relief when I see her come into view at the top of the stairs. She makes her way down and opens the door, looking more exhausted than the last time I saw her.
But even covered in baby slime, with bags under her eyes large enough to fit her groceries, it’s easy to tell she’s beautiful. Sure, it’d take a lot of sleep and some scrubbing to make her shiny again, but it’s there in the smoothness of her skin, the pout in her pink lips, and the shape of her tired eyes.
I hold the flowers out first, biting my bottom lip to hide my smile at her confusion as her left hand slowly reaches forward to take them. She moves so slowly I notice one of those silicone wedding bands on her ring finger.
Disappointment floods my veins.
Damn. I hadn’t realized I’d been holding out some small semblance of hope that she was single.
“These are an apology for waking your baby last week. I know how hard it can be to get little ones down and how important that alone time is.” Will and Monica were zombies after Camden was born. Stubborn little fella has a personal vendetta against naptime.
Shannon stares at the flowers in a daze, suddenly making my skin prickle with discomfort.This was a stupid idea.
“Um, if they’re too much, I just?—”
Suddenly, she covers her face with her free hand and starts crying.
“Oh shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—hey,” I try again. “Shh, just breathe.”
“They’re s-so th-thoughtful,” she stutters through her sniffles a minute later, clearly trying to pull herself together as she dabs at her eyes.
Forget exhausted, this woman is on the brink of collapse.
“They’re just your grocery store variety. Just something small to brighten your day,” I try to explain light heartedly, but I’m not sure she even hears me. “Oh, and this.” I push the package toward her. “But I didn’t have anything to do with that one. Obviously.”
Why the hell am I tripping over myself?
I place the box I’m supposed to be delivering in her hand. The one with the giant Cartier logo in the top left corner. Hence, the reason the signature is required.
She sniffles once more and wipes her eyes with the heels of her hands.
I’m shocked when I notice there are no streaks of mascara on her cheeks. She either has the most waterproof mascara in the world or the darkest natural eyelashes I’ve ever seen.
Why am I noticing her eyelashes?
Maybe Jake and the guys are right. I need to get laid,badly.
I make a mental note to give Jakey a call. He’s the bestwingman a guy could ask for. Happily tied down and never tempted no matter what graces his presence, he funnels all the attention to me. He’s also as gay as the day is long which helps.
Unlike going out with Phoenix who will actually swoop in and cockblock meso he can get some action…even though Phoenix gets all the action already.
“Um, just sign here.” I shake my head, trying to snap myself out of this weird trance, and pull the device out of the holster for her just like last time.
In a move I didn’t see coming, she carelessly tosses the box across the foyer onto the couch in the living room as if it’s worthless. It lands quietly on the cushion before bouncing onto the floor. When I pull my attention from the discarded box to look at her, she’s signing the pad while cradling the bouquet of flowers in her arm liketheyare as precious as her child.
Interesting.
Once she’s done signing, she takes a deep breath.
“Thank you. The flowers are lovely.” She hands the signing device back to me and runs her hand down her hair, self-conscious of her appearance. But even in her current state, she’s one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever laid eyes on. “Maybe by next week I’ll have slept and will finally resemble a normal human being.” She flashes me a smile, but it’s sad and empty and doesn’t reach her eyes.
I shouldn’t want to know why. But I do.
I shouldn’t want to fix it. But I want that too. The ring on her finger says she’s legally married, but it’s pretty clear this woman is handling the harsh demands of new parenthood on her own.
