Page 17 of Holding You
I cave, and take a bite, closing my eyes and letting the warm cookie melt in my mouth. My taste buds burst with every flavor.
Ruby is a gifted baker, but I will never tell her so. You know, because I have to play the part of hated neighbor and all that.
“Max!”
Just as I’m taking bite number two, my mouth still open, Ruby’s voice rings through the backyard and into my kitchen. She appears at the still-open sliding patio door.
She pauses, her bright green eyes taking in the scene. One kid, mine, sitting on the counter in her pink jean shorts and yellow shirt, hair in a messy ponytail, a Tupperware bowl in her lap and me standing in front of her wearing nothing but a pair of gray sweats and a black baseball hat, barefoot, eating a cookieand staring at her with wide eyes as if I was caught doing something wrong.
Which, I'm expecting, will be the case. As usual.
Her gaze darts over the room but stalls on my bare chest.
I take pride in making sure I eat right and stay active daily, but with the way her eyes linger on me, I'm sure she’s thinking I somehow screwed that up, too.
Then the little boy next to me takes off down the hall. Susie and I both turn our heads to watch him go.
“Maxwell Miles Davenport, get your booty back out here,” Ruby scolds. Then she clears her throat.
As if we are mirrors, Susie and I look back at Ruby.
She smooths her hands over her baking apron and holds her head high in my doorframe.
“Well, are you going to invite me in?”
I know I shouldn't, but I bark out a laugh.
“Your kid practically lives here. I don't think inviting you into my house is necessary anymore. You can just walk in, Ruby.”
Her gaze narrows, and she steps in.
“I don't appreciate you implying that my kid is here with you more than he’s with me.”
I finally take the bite I'd been going for, chew a couple of times, and say, “That, by no means, was what I said.”
And it’s not. One of the many things that attracts me to Ruby is her approach to mothering.
She’s a fucking great one.
Phenomenal, really. How she does all that and stays sane is beyond me.
I hope people tell her that. Lord knows, this town makes sure to tell me anytime I step out of the house.
You’re such a good dad, Declan. Susie is so lucky.
It pisses me off.
Yeah, if she’s so lucky, why didn’t her mom stick around? Oh, that’s right, she left because of me.
I’m the problem. I’m the reason Susie doesn't have a mom, and it fucking kills me every day. Every compliment only makes the wound deeper.
“Well, it sounded like—” Her gaze flicks to my daughter, and everything in Ruby’s face shifts from deep wrinkles of frustration to even calmness. If that's even a thing for her.
Susie is also eating a cookie.
“Do you think the lemon was too much?” Ruby asks, and Susie shakes her head.
“These are so good. They might be my new favorite."
