Unexpectedly in Love Read online

  “I’m on a budget.” I put out a hand to stop him from speaking. “Don’t say it.”

  “Say what?”

  “That I should fight for more hours at the daycare, even though the other mom...” I shook my head. It didn’t matter. In Steve’s mind I was equally deserving, and nothing else mattered, because I was giving up something he felt was vitally important.

  He scooted closer, well within arm’s reach.

  “Hey,” he said softly. I faced him, ready for the lecture. “I like that you’re kind, generous, and think of others. Those are good qualities, you know.”

  Blinking, I stared at him. The problem was being kind didn’t always serve the best interests of myself or my family. It might even be construed as careless and irresponsible of me.

  I felt ashamed for not standing up for myself and Max financially, and I made a vow that if the college accepted me, I would find a way to start taking those classes.

  “And...?” I prompted Steve, certain there would be a jab coming after that compliment. We were long overdue for an argument, having spent several fight-free hours together.

  He scooted a bit closer, his arm slung over the back of the cushions, near enough that I could feel the heat from his leg, his torso. He slowly brushed a thumb down my cheek. “Even though I don’t always understand you, I think you’re pretty special.”

  My heart warmed. Steve thought I was special. Even though I didn’t live my life the way he felt I should. I wanted to freeze this moment. Frame it. Savor it.

  “I would still like to kiss you,” he stated, his thumb caressing my cheek, “though I’m pretty sure you’ll say no.”

  I stared at Steve for a long moment, then subtly shifted closer, my lips meeting his. He took the right amount of care, applied the right amount of pressure, and I sighed against him, folding myself into his arms to lengthen the kiss.

  He was a good kisser.

  “I think I like movie night,” he murmured when we broke apart, my body still comfortably nestled in his embrace.

  “I think I like being friends.”

  “Actually, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  “Why not?”

  “Friends don’t usually do this.” He lifted my chin upward, giving me a sweet, short kiss.

  “Hmm.” He kissed me again. “That is problematic. I was intrigued by the idea of being your friend.”

  He tightened his grip, holding me close. He felt good. Strong. Capable.

  I peered up at him. “You know that whatever we’re doing together here, I’m not going to back down.”

  “Back down? About what?”

  “Everything. Just because we kissed doesn’t mean I’m not going to fight with you, or dish it back when you deserve it.”

  “I’m counting on it.” He tucked me back against him before hitting the button to start the movie, his lips touching a kiss to my earlobe and sending shivers through me.

  I didn’t know whether to focus on the opening scenes or the fact that I’d kissed Steve. And liked it.

  Was all that fighting between us really just chemistry, as Cassandra had suggested? I wasn’t sure I was equipped to deal with a positive answer.

  Which made me question what we were doing. I was a mom. I couldn’t just float into a relationship or a fling or whatever this was with a man who was all about adventure and roaming the earth. Max would be home in less than a week and I needed to take care, have a plan, as well as minimize any impact my actions might have on my family.

  And the last thing I had when it came to Steve was a plan.

  My stomach rumbled and I sighed, allowing myself to fall deeper into his arms. I had soup in the fridge, but I’d have to get up to warm it for us, and might not get to snuggle in again if I left now.

  Steve picked up his phone and, after a moment of him tapping and scrolling, I peeked at the screen. He was ordering pizza from the local craft brewery place. I’d heard it was the best in town, but had yet to try it.

  “Would you like the house special?” he asked.

  “Sounds amazing, but maybe we could scrounge something from the kitchen instead.” I sat up, out of his arms. He was ordering an extra-large, and I already knew I wouldn’t be able to reciprocate if there was a next time.

  Next time.

  Just live in the moment, Joy, because this likely won’t happen again.

  “I’ve got this,” he said, his free arm bringing me back into his embrace. “I invited myself over. Remember?”

  “You also rented the movie, as well as brought snacks and drinks.”

  “It’s my duty to distract you, and I can’t do that without pizza.”

  “You can’t?” I asked doubtfully, as I watched him click the Order button. Pizza was on its way.

  “Well, I could find ways, but I’m not sure you’re game.” His smile was wicked and I gave him a playful slap.

  “I only do relationships,” I said, trying to act prim and serious despite the flirty energy zipping through me. “I’m not a side adventure.”

  His expression became somber. “But you’ve given up relationships.”

  I looked away. I had indeed said that.

  “So we found a gray zone?” he asked.

  I pulled my knees up to my chest, my heels hooked on the edge of the couch. “I don’t know where we are.” I needed to think, but my brain refused to help me out. All it could do was replay how good it felt to be in his arms.

  Steve shifted, tugging my right foot so it could rest in his lap. He began kneading the ball, then glided his thumbs over the arch in the most delicious way. I let out a moan of contentment.

  “Right there?” He glanced up as his thumb moved back to the spot that had made me moan.

  I nodded, suddenly self-conscious. We were having a domestic moment.

  Me and Steve.

  And it felt natural. Good, even. As if the shutters of my life had been opened once again.

  I should really create a plan, but a rebellious piece of me wanted to just savor having a man believe I was special, and to avoid considering any possible consequences.

  “Gray zone, huh?” I mumbled, my muscles giving up their tightness as his thumbs worked their magic.

  He watched me for a moment, then said, “We don’t have to define our moments together. Max is away for a few days. We have time to explore without fear of hurting or confusing him.”

  My lips curved upward.

  “I’ve always felt that gray is an underrated color.” I was also starting to believe that Steve was pretty special, too.

  It was nearly midnight when Steve slipped back into his boots to trek through the dusting of snow that had fallen during our movie.

  “Thank you for coming over. It was fun.” I felt bashful, instinctively knowing that once Max was back this would end. “You were a pretty good stand-in.” I felt bad for the way I was distancing us, discounting the connection we’d had between kisses tonight.

  Steve cast me a glance from the corner of his eye as he zipped up his coat.

  I opened the door, flicking on the porch light. The timers had turned off my Christmas decorations hours ago, leaving Frosty deflated in the dark and making the night look like any other. Cold, slightly dreary and definitely lonely.

  Calvin and Max hadn’t called me tonight, having promised to do so tomorrow, since they’d been traveling most of today.

  Calvin and I had agreed to spend Christmas Day together with Max, but I knew there would be a time when that would probably stop. Like, if one of us moved on. I opened my mouth to ask Steve why he didn’t like Calvin, but realized it really didn’t matter. Instead I said, “Feel free to invite yourself over anytime.”

  Behind me, Obi rolled over on his living room bed and let out a sigh so loud I could hear it from the doorway. He was waiting for me to call it a day so he could go off duty as my watchdog.

  “I have to work tomorrow, but I’m sure you can think of a reason to get me to come over and help you cope tomorrow ev
ening, too.” Steve’s smile was sly, knowing and slightly intoxicating. It made me want to roll up onto my toes, grab his face and kiss him.

  I laughed. “I have no fun plans tomorrow night. Just work.”

  “At Little Comets?”

  I shook my head. “A surprise for Max. I’m going to paint his room while he’s away. So unless you want to help me, I suggest you pretend Jim has you working late, and then go catch a beer with the boys at the Tinsel and Tonic.”

  “Do you have everything you need? Paint? Brushes? Drop sheets?”

  “You don’t need to come slave away.”

  “Okay.” He did that casual guy thing, with a shrug and a nod. He was considering something, but I wasn’t sure what.

  “Goodnight, Steve.”

  As I closed the door, I couldn’t help wondering whether he would be coming over again tomorrow night, as well as why he hadn’t given me a goodnight kiss.

  Chapter 5

  After spending the afternoon helping organize items for the community center’s silent auction, I walked home, bundled up to my nose against a brisk wind. As I came in sight of Steve’s empty driveway I was struck by a jab of disappointment.

  Loneliness hit me hard. Empty house. No friendly smile next door. I sighed and continued up the sidewalk, letting myself in and Obi out. I unwrapped the layers of warm clothing, hanging everything up with determined care before letting the dog back in again.

  Calvin and Max had video-chatted with me earlier, Max scowling and jet-lagged. But Calvin was optimistic about all that France could hold for the three of us, and I had simply nodded and smiled.

  Maybe I wouldn’t get accepted into the education program.

  Maybe I would move to France and love it.

  But if we were seriously considering Paris, why did I have a stash of painting materials currently sitting in my son’s bedroom?

  The paint was custom tinted, making it nonreturnable. Early that morning I’d filled boxes with stuffed animals, Lego and an impressive amount of Max’s drawings, in preparation for painting.

  Entering the room, I knelt down, pried open a can and considered the blue paint. Better than the beige for sure, but was it the right shade? It looked so... permanent and decisive. There would be nothing subtle about this change in color.

  Obi clacked down the hallway, his nails suddenly quiet as he came onto the drop sheet-covered carpet beside me. He nudged me with his nose, then slid his wide, furry head under my arm.

  “Hey, buddy.” Our morning walk had been a bit shorter than usual, and guilt hit me. Just because I had wanted another twenty-five minutes of sleep, he’d paid the price with a quick jaunt, before I’d run out to buy paint and then headed off to help with the auction.

  It would be dark in a few hours and I could paint all night. I couldn’t walk him all night.

  “Come on, let’s go.” I closed the can and leashed up Obi-Wan.

  When we returned home a half hour later, Steve’s truck was back in his driveway. I gave a goofy smile when I saw a note tacked to my door with duct tape.

  With a bounce in my step I called out a cheery hello to my inflatable Frosty the Snowman before feeling silly and climbing the front steps to pull down the note.

  I should get your phone number. The Chinese food I ordered is getting cold. If you’re hungry you know where to find me.

  I tried to fight my grin and lost.

  Oh, I was hungry all right. Not just for the meal, but for the companionship, and having a man look at me like I might be something he’d want to consume.

  My head popped up. Whoa. Where had that thought come from?

  My cheeks heating, I reread the note. Steve still had that same scratchy, barely readable handwriting he’d had in high school. I’d been so certain that our group labs in chemistry would fail because of his illegible scrawl that I’d insisted on writing out every report myself.

  For a moment I stood on my steps, undecided. I was playing with fire. People didn’t change, and he’d been the thorn in my side all through school. If I went over to his place—like I wanted to—would I be getting into something I had no intention of pursuing?

  If I didn’t go over...

  Empty house. Soup for supper. Painting a room blue. Alone.

  Ugh.

  I didn’t like that option, either.

  I wanted to spend time with Steve. To poke at him and be poked back. To laugh and kiss and carry on like I hadn’t with a man in a very long time—since high school chemistry class, minus the kissing.

  Plus I had to admit I was really curious about where this new friendship between Steve and me might go.

  Unlocking the door, I unleashed Obi and set him free inside, fighting the doubts racing through my mind. Before I followed him in, a familiar voice called from next door, “Your furry Jedi master is welcome if he wants to come, too.”

  I leaned over the porch railing to get a better look at Steve’s house. He had opened his screenless kitchen window and was hanging out to chat. It was so old-school I had to laugh.

  I really needed to give that man my phone number.

  “Okay,” I hollered. “Can I bring anything?”

  “Do you have any more gingerbread men?”

  I shook my head.

  Judith Smith was walking her dog and she paused, her steady, lopsided gaze moving from me to Steve and back again. With her voice loaded with what felt like a warning of some kind, she asked, “Has Calvin gone to France?”

  “Yes, he has. He’ll be back next week.”

  “Any kind of homemade cookies?” Steve called.

  “I have some in the freezer. I can… donate some.” I added the last part quickly, hoping Judith wouldn’t get the wrong idea. The last thing I needed was something about Steve and me getting around town, when all that was happening was friendship.

  “I didn’t realize you were dating again,” Judith said.

  “I’m not dating.” I heard the indignation in my voice, and then Steve’s window slamming shut.

  I told myself it was just an old window that needed force to be opened and closed, and that the slam wasn’t indicative of how I’d inadvertently offended him. Because he should know that what we were playing at was never going to be real, so there was no reason to tell anyone about our confusing little gray zone. I was simply keeping him on his toes and he was keeping me from sinking into a lonely pit of despair. There was absolutely no need to make a royal mess of things by acting as though this was anything more than a temporary distraction for both of us.

  Steve’s house was different than I’d expected. Instead of mismatched furniture placed haphazardly throughout the rooms, the mismatched furniture was arranged in cozy, welcoming groups. Houseplants shared space with coasters and magazines on side tables. On the walls were photographs of glaciers, but instead of their blues and whites making the place feel cool, they somehow made it feel spacious and open.

  “That’s the Mendenhall Glacier up in Alaska,” Steve said, as Obi trotted from room to room, lifting his nose to take in all that each space had to offer on an olfactory level.

  “It’s nice.”

  “I just about fell out of the helicopter taking that one.” He pointed to another framed, blown-up photo.

  “Are you serious?” I crossed my arms uncomfortably.

  He grinned. “I was getting ready to ski, and I popped my camera out from under my coat to take a quick shot just as the pilot pitched the helicopter to bank and land. I wasn’t supposed to be leaning out like that.”

  “Always up for an adventure, aren’t you?”

  “I guess so.” He gazed at the picture for a second longer.

  “Do you sell your photos?”

  He shook his head.

  “What made you want to become a helicopter pilot?” I figured it was probably the rush of adrenaline. The ability to lift off and go where nobody else could. The imminent and constant pull of death or something.

  “My dad used to fly. It always seemed...” He
paused as though searching for words, and Obi nudged his hand, earning an absentminded ruffling of his ears.

  “Romantic? Adventurous?”

  “It’s a shift in perspective. You lift above everything, and suddenly all that stuff weighing you down doesn’t matter anymore. It’s down there and you aren’t.”

  I was silent for a moment, unsure what to say. What could possibly weigh down Mr. Freedom and Adventure?

  “What do you run from?” I asked, my voice touched with uncertainty.

  He gave me a funny look. “It’s all still there when you land.”

  “Like what?” He was disrupting that entrenched view I had of him as someone with an easy-to-discard adventure addiction. Not some deep, wounded man with motivations that might possibly make my heart ache.

  “The things you want but can’t have.”

  We were staring at each other, and I was afraid to maintain the eye contact in case I began to read the subtext in his gaze, his words. This wasn’t the Steve I knew, and I was afraid to confirm the hunch that was developing within me, blaring like a horn, disturbing my thoughts. It felt as though he was giving me a clue to something I wasn’t sure I wanted to unearth, because knowing might mean change. Changing my thoughts and feelings.

  I was the first to look away. “I heard you have food.”

  He hesitated for a second, then led me to the kitchen, which was clean and tidy, with everything in its place. Just like Calvin’s kitchen. Although, granted, Calvin didn’t have much in his house beyond the necessities and what he did had been chosen for its masculine appeal. I was currently in a home.

  Steve got out plates and opened the boxes of Chinese takeout on the counter. I helped myself, not quite sure why I was over here eating his food when I had a bedroom to paint.

  “Do you like Exploding Kittens?” he asked as he dished himself a heaping plate of food.

  It was a card game that drove Max bonkers. Sometimes in a good way, sometimes not.

  “Max adores it.”

  “Do you?”

  I shrugged. “Max tends to get close to meltdown whenever he picks up the exploding kitten and doesn’t have a defuse card.” He was not yet familiar with the art of losing gracefully.