“Well, good, then,” I continue, not letting him gain his bearings so he can prove to be the supercilious prick I know is hiding beneath the surface. “Unless you have something else for me, I’d best be going. I need to put in some added time to get you that something extra for Saturday’s event.”
I hang up the phone before he can speak and ruin my perfect exit. I drop the phone, the clatter of it against my desk filling the silence of the room, and drop my head into my hands. I sit there for a moment, hoping the buzzing in my ears will dissipate, but it just continues to rage incessantly until it becomes almost white noise.
My shoulders are tight, my body amped up with a Molotov cocktail of emotions just waiting to explode when lit by the right match. My mind leaps to Becks, and I curse myself for that damn ache he’s created, which isn’t going away no matter how many times BOB and I have reacquainted ourselves since Sunday.
It’s just not the same.
Not even close.
I groan out in frustration—memories of that one night together flickering through my mind as I hear Dante’s motorcycle pull up in the driveway. I really don’t need to be around him right now—primed alpha male oozing sex appeal and willingness for a quick romp in the bed.
Or on the kitchen counter.
God, yes, I know sleeping with him would be a huge mistake—huge—but damn he might be the perfect flint to spark this sexually frustrated woman’s fire. But no matter how much I know he’d be incredible in bed and pleasure me sufficiently, I’m not crossing that line.
I just can’t.
Not just for my sake or the satisfaction of my sex drive, but because when I think of sex and what I’m craving, I think of Becks. I see him standing between the V of my thighs, that sexy-as-fuck smile on his lips and how he lifts his head up in rapture just as he sinks into me. Yet the fact that I can’t stop thinking of him—of these things—means I just might do something stupid and use Dante to sate my simmering lust.
And that would solve nothing but prove how fucked-up my logic is.
I can’t use one man’s hand to scratch another man’s itch. Well, I could, but that would involve both of them being in the same bed with me, and that’s a whole different can of worms.
The chuckle comes on the heels of the mental image. The exhausted laughter at my ridiculously immature thoughts of two men and their cans of worms tells me I need to leave the house. I need to get out and get some fresh air and make my raging hormones simmer down. Grab hold with both hands and get a grip.
It takes me a second as I look out the window to the front yard to figure out what I need. And it is most definitely not the sight of Dante pulling off his shirt and wiping his hands on it after he adjusts something on his bike. Bare skin, defined muscles, etched ink.
I shove the chair back.
Time to go.
* * *
“See? Just what the doctor ordered, Maddie Haddie.”
Maddie giggles loudly as she takes another lick of the melting massive ice-cream cone in her hands. “Yes, Haddie Maddie,” she says reversing our names like Lexi used to do. “This is the best idea ever!”
“It is,” I agree, holding my own cone up to hers and tapping it in a toast. There’s nothing like time with Maddie to relieve any stress I may have. Clear my thoughts and make me forget about easy mannered country boys I have no business thinking about. I’m glad she was home when I called Danny to see if I could take her out for some ice cream. It made her smile, and it made me forget all the crap of my day.
She continues to chatter incessantly, filling me in on the minutiae of her elementary school life, and I love how the simplest things bring her joy. It forces me to realize how even though she’s been through so much, she’s persevered, and she is a bright and thriving, little soul.
Our spot on the grassy hill in the park overlooks a huge farmers’ market to the right of us, and off in the distance to the left is the beach. I reach in my purse to grab a napkin for her when my eye catches sight of the dandelion hiding nearby.
My breath catches momentarily. I know it’s there just because it’s a weed, but I can’t help but think it’s a sign from Lexi and a nod to our childhood fixation on them and their potential to make wishes come true.
I pull the weed, careful not to disturb its seeds and hold it out in front of me. Maddie tilts her head to the side and looks at me, curious what I’m doing. “Your momma and I used to love to make wishes on dandelions when we were little girls.”
“Really?” she asks on that edge of being too old so that it’s silly but at the same time thrilled to learn something new about her mom.
“Yep. We even had a phase where we’d pick them all and make potions with the seeds to try to make our wishes stronger. Then we’d let them dry from whatever we put on them, make a wish, and blow them into the wind.” I smile softly, the memory so bittersweet.
“Like what kind of potions?” She scoots closer to me now, the fascination to know more causing her eyes to widen.
“Hm … anything we could sneak from the house so Nana wouldn’t notice: perfume, glitter, salt, a little bit of everything all mixed together.” I laugh now. “Your poppy would get so mad because we’d leave them drying all over the place, and then yell at him not to move them and disturb the wishes on them. He even started calling us the dandelion duo for a while.”
“The dandelion duo?” She smiles as she looks at me, and I nod toward the weed in my hand. “Did your wishes ever come true?” The awe in her voice tugs at everything inside of me.
“All the time.” I reach over with my free hand and run it over her cheek. “In fact, the one your mom wished the hardest for happened.”
“It did? What was it?”
I smile, tears burning the back of my eyes. “It was you,” I whisper. Maddie’s eyes lock on mine, the grin spreading on her face, but the sorrow glistening in her eyes. I put my arm around her and pull her in close to my side. We sit there quietly for a moment while I figure out how to make her a part of this, a way to feel close to her mom. “Do you want to be part of the dandelion duo?”
Startled, she bounces her head up, huge brown eyes staring at me full of hope. “Can I? What do I need to do?”
“Well, you need to make a wish, and the way a dandelion sister makes a wish is by saying, ‘I wish I may, I wish I might, have this wish I wish tonight’ … and then you close your eyes, make your wish, and blow as hard as you can on the seeds so they take flight.”
“That’s all I have to do?”
“Yep. Would you like to become one now?”
“Yes!”
I hold the dandelion out for her to take in her hand. She looks over at me and I nod for her to go ahead. “I wish I may, I wish I might, have this wish I wish tonight….” She squeezes her eyes and falls silent for a moment as she makes her wish before blowing all of the seeds into the air.
“Look,” I tell her so she opens her eyes and watches. “One day one of those seeds carrying your wish is going to come back and bring you your wish, okay?” She nods her head before resting it in the crook of my arm as we watch the last of the seeds disappear. Memories flash through my mind, so faded by time but there nonetheless, and I feel a soft contentment at being able to share this with Maddie. “See, now anytime you see a dandelion, you’ll know it’s a sign from your mom since now you’re officially part of the dandelion duo.”
We sit there a while longer before gathering our stuff. We walk toward the parking lot and decide to stroll through the farmers’ market on the way to the car. Of course, Maddie’s eyes stop on every booth, and we pause numerous times to ooh and ahh at the random items on display.
We are busy discussing why she doesn’t need the huge bag of kettle corn she’s eyeing since she still has smudges of chocolate ice cream on her face from her snack moments before when I freeze at the sound of the slow, familiar cadence behind me. I know it can’t possibly be him, but it’s not like I can resist looking because before my brain even tells my mind to stay focused forward, I’m already turning my head.
At the same moment that my eyes lock on the owner of the voice, his eyes find mine. And all of my resolve, every damn bogus, bullshit lie I’ve told myself about not wanting more with Beckett comes tumbling down around me when our eyes meet.
I feel that instantaneous spark—that firing of desire in my core—when a slow, lopsided smirk spreads on his lips. My vanity has me immediately cringing at my cutoff denim shorts and oversized shirt hanging off of my shoulder. My hair piled high on top of my head in a messily fashionable ponytail compensates for my complete lack of makeup.
Or so I tell myself.
We hold each other’s gaze for a moment, while we both try to figure out what the other’s eyes are saying. And then my chance to infer any meaning there is knocked clear to the wayside when I notice an arm looped through Becks’s. I follow the arm up to take in the woman at his side. She says something to him, and he looks at me a moment longer before turning to see what she’s pointing to.
I can’t tear my eyes away from them. I don’t want to acknowledge the pang of jealousy that starts gnawing through me at the sight of him with another woman. And not just any woman, but a woman who’s the complete opposite of me. Dark and exotic compared to my blond hair and dime-a-dozen cow brown eyes.
Maddie tugs on my hand and breaks my trance. And as I’m pulled back to the here and now, as I blindly buy the popcorn for her because my mind is so rattled by seeing Becks with someone else, I find myself dismayed by the fact that for the first time ever, I feel completely insecure.
What the hell is he doing to me?
I silently chastise myself, tell myself to pull on my big-girl thong and own it like a stripper does her pole, but I think I’m a little stunned at the realization that my ever-confident self has pulled a disappearing act. And even now I’m at a loss because I suddenly notice that the guy who handed me the kettle corn is staring at me like I’ve lost it until I realize I’ve paid and am blocking the next customer in line.
Fuck.
I let Maddie lead as she pulls my hand while I attempt to come to grips with this foreign feeling of inadequacy inside me. I laugh. Mad thinks I’m laughing at her excitement over the popcorn, but in all honesty, I’m dumbfounded that of all men to make me feel this way, it’s Becks.
Wanting more of him is most definitely a possibility … but it’s the what comes after that’s not in the cards for me.
And while I sit at a picnic table shoveling popcorn in my mouth without thinking, it hits me. This is how he must have felt when he called the house and Dante answered his phone. No wonder he was a prick to me.
But Dante is no one, and she … she obviously is someone to him.
It’s not like I care or anything.
Before I can finish lying to myself, I look up from the bag of popcorn, and he’s right in front of me. Or rather his abdomen is, and that in itself causes my breath to hitch as I recall the feel of my fingers over the defined muscles beneath his T-shirt. I have to angle my head up to meet his shadowed eyes under the brim of his baseball cap.
“Dante.”
The name falls out before I can even process my thoughts properly and get a handle on what I’m about to say. And of course I really mean that I understand why Becks was angry at me—I want to explain Dante’s presence properly—but my brain is scrambled with whatever jacked-up hold he seems to have on my coherency.
Becks’s brow furrows immediately in response, and before he can voice the question I can see on his tongue, Maddie makes her presence known.
“What do you call a bad popcorn joke?” her high-pitched voice asks to my right.
His eyes narrow at me momentarily before darting over to Maddie. To the little girl I should be answering, but my eyes are fixated on Becks’s face and the range of expressions that are playing over his features: confusion, interest, amusement. His smile spreads wide and genuine on his face as he steps toward her and lowers himself onto his haunches so that he’s about eye level.
“Hm,” he says, and then purses his lips in thought. “I think I have an answer but I’m not supposed to talk to strangers … so I’m sorry but you’re a stranger.” He just keeps his eyes focused on her as she erupts into a fit of deep giggles from her belly.
She angles her head and rolls her eyes at him, the laughter still bubbling up as she forgets all about the popcorn and falls under Becks’s charm. “I’m Maddie,” she says.
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