Page 40 of Mine To Keep (Southern Wedding)

“Has she asked you out?” my father asks the question I was going to ask but didn’t because I was mentally kicking his ass.

“No.” He shakes his head. “But that’s probably because…”

“Because she doesn’t want to date you,” I finish the sentence for him. “Now shut the bark up.”

The rest of the afternoon is lighter and luckily for everyone no one brings up Grace anymore. When they finally leave a little after four in the afternoon, I take my phone out and message Alexa.

Me: Hey, Alexa, was wondering if you would be able to come and sit for Meadow. I’ll put her to bed at her normal time at seven. If you can come at seven thirty until around ten?

I put the phone down before heading into the living room to sit and watch television with Meadow, her eyes getting heavy. “Don’t fall asleep,” I tell her, and her eyes snap open.

“I’m not,” she denies, turning on her side. I know if she falls asleep now, there will be no way I’ll be able to put her to bed at seven, and therefore showing up at Grace’s door at eight would be a no go.

“Let’s go for a walk,” I suggest to her, and she looks at me, not moving. “We can go in the back and blow bubbles.” I get up off the couch the same time my phone pings.

Alexa: Okay, see you then.

“Come on, sleepyhead,” I urge, walking over to the side wall in the pantry, grabbing the basket of bubbles and chalk. “We can even write on the driveway.”

“Can I write my name?” Meadow slides off the couch and comes over to me.

“Yes, and mine too,” I tell her as we walk out to the driveway. It takes everything for her not to ask to go inside, and when it’s finally seven, she doesn’t even make it past the story I’m reading. I rush to my bathroom, taking a quick shower and putting on jeans and a white T-shirt, sliding my sneakers on at seven twenty-five, when the knock on the door has me jogging toward it. Alexa comes in quietly and I quickly rush out of there. My hands tap the steering wheel the whole way over to her place.

When I park on the street and walk into the lobby, the desk is empty, so I don’t have to ask anyone anything. I press the elevator button, the nerves hitting me as soon as the doors open and I walk out onto her floor. My hand shakes as I hold it up to knock on her door. One second after is when I think this is the stupidest thing I’ve ever done, but then the next second, I think this is the best thing for me to do. We need to talk and I’m not having this talk at work.

I look down, seeing a shadow at the door before the lock clicks and the door opens. She stands there in light-pink loose waffle shorts with a matching tank top shirt. Her hair is piled on top of her head. “Caine,” she says my name, both surprised and breathless, and then I think maybe I should have called. “What are you doing here?” She puts one of her bare feet on top of the other.

“Well, I figured that we needed to talk.” I don’t move from the spot and neither does she. “And I didn’t want to wait until tomorrow.” She stares at me. I’ve seen her every single day at work with light makeup on, then yesterday her makeup was a bit darker. But today, she stands there without a stitch of makeup, and she’s never looked more beautiful to me. “Can I come in?”

“Of course.” She moves aside from the doorway but still keeps her hand holding it. I stop in front of her, my hand coming out to hold her hip before I bend and kiss her lips gently.

“Hi,” I say as breathlessly as she was when she opened the door.

“Hi,” she responds back, and now with no heels on I can see how tiny she is. She gets on her tippy-toes, closing the rest of the distance to give me another chaste kiss. “Come in,” she invites, closing the door.

She walks by me and my fingers find hers, exactly like they did yesterday, as we walk down her hallway. “Can I get you something to drink?” she asks me as we stop in the middle of her living room. “I don’t really have much alcohol, but I think I have a bottle of beer from when JB was here.”

“No.” I shake my head. “I’m good.”

“Sit down.” She points at the couch where there is a throw blanket in a heap in the middle with a big textbook right on top of it and a legal pad.

“What is all this?” I point at the book and then notice the coffee table has her laptop along with graph paper.

“These,” she says, taking a deep inhale, “are my books.”

“I can see that. For?”

“I’m going to night school to earn my CPA license,” she states, shocking the ever-loving shit out of me. She shocks me at every single turn since I’ve met her. “That’s why I can’t work past four.” I swallow down the lump that formed in my throat, thinking back to when I was a dick to her about it. “It’s an intensive course. Most of it is online from six to ten Monday through Friday.”

“Wow.” I pick up one of the papers. “Impressive.”

“Well, not so much, I haven’t graduated yet,” she says, sitting down next to the cover, moving it to her other side along with the big textbook. “This is how I usually spend my weekends.” She looks at the table. “I try to work ahead of the class in case there is some big assignment, and I can’t get to it during the week. I started doing that after I fell asleep on my desk and ended up coming to work late.”

“You can stop pointing out all the times I was a dick to you.” I try to make a joke out of it. “Fuck, I was an idiot.”

“Not all the time.” She smiles shyly at me. “Just ninety-nine percent of the time.”

“Oh, good,” I deadpan, “only that.”

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