Hey Sunshine (11 page)

Everything he could want is already here.
Fox had a knack for saying the exact things I wished would come out of Chase’s mouth but never did. There were twenty-five ways I wanted to respond to that, ranging from throwing myself into his arms to putting my head down on the counter and crying, but impulsively I picked a happy medium.

Stretching onto my tiptoes, I put my face close to his and kissed him softly on the cheek. I allowed myself to breathe in his cedarwood and soap smell, my hand lingering on his shoulder for a second longer than necessary. At the touch of my lips, he turned his face slowly toward me so our noses almost met, and I reluctantly dropped down off my toes, but not before I noticed his sharp intake of breath and the way his eyes hooded as he looked at me.

“Sorry,” I said shyly. “I just… wanted to.” My cheeks flushed at my inappropriateness, but I figured it was better than the only other option I seriously considered, which was climbing him like a tree and riding off into the sunset. I shook my head, laughing at myself when Fox’s expression turned from surprise to amusement as well.

“Don’t be sorry,” he said. “I’m not.”

He turned to walk back into the kitchen, and I steadied myself with a hand on the countertop. Can dimples wink? Because I felt like his just did.

I am in so much trouble.

* * *

It was way after four p.m. the next day when I realized Annabelle’s babysitter Claire was late. The afternoon had gotten away from me like it always did on the days when Annabelle didn’t have preschool, and between laundry, princess dress up, bill paying, tea parties, and housecleaning, I lost track of time.

I checked the clock on the microwave again as I called Claire’s cell phone. No answer. Did I have the time wrong? No, I specifically remembered asking her to babysit Annabelle this evening because I had to drive to campus for a meeting with my advisor and to turn in a rough draft for a scene I was working on. I didn’t trust the electronic submission site anymore after a few botched attempts on my end due to my ancient desktop computer and faulty internet access.

I tried Claire’s number again, and it still sent me straight to voicemail. She was one of our younger diner waitresses but usually reliable. My thoughts came quickly as I began to worry. My advisor appointment was at five thirty, and my professor stressed that he would only be on campus until a little after six if I wanted him to read through my script, which gave me about twenty minutes to figure out what the hell I was going to do.

Halfway through dialing my mom’s cell number, I remembered that she and my dad were hours away looking at livestock for their breeding venture. And Heather was in Dallas at the bridal convention, so dead end there as well. Maybe Claire was working a mid-shift at the diner and running late, or maybe Joy knew where she was. It was worth a shot.

“Damn it,” I muttered, kicking a cabinet with my bare foot. “Shit!” That really hurt, and I hopped around for a minute before walking to Annabelle’s room. She looked up from her little chair where she was brushing her Barbie’s hair and smiled at me.

“Hey, Bells,” I said. “Can you help Mama and put a few toys in your bag, sweetheart? We need to leave in a minute, okay?” She nodded and started shoving her Barbie and assorted doll clothes into her Minnie Mouse backpack.

Worst-case scenario, I’d just have to take Annabelle with me. She was usually cheerful and easy-going, but it was almost dinnertime, and I knew from experience that her mood could shift in a nanosecond. Plus, with the additional joy of potty training, frequent pit stops were our new travel style.

I ran into my room and threw on a different shirt, grabbed my bag, and shoved the folder with my scene inside. Annabelle came out of her room wearing her backpack, and I locked up the house quickly and headed for the diner.

When we got to the parking lot, I didn’t see Claire’s car anywhere, just Joy’s truck and the diner’s old pickup, along with a few other regulars. It was looking more and more like Annabelle would be accompanying me to campus.

Annabelle held my hand as we breezed through the double doors. She was always excited to go to The Kitchen, because in her experience, it meant crayons, grilled cheese, and maybe ice cream if she was good.

“Hey there, darlin’!” Joy greeted Annabelle, bending down to kiss her cheek. Annabelle happily scampered over to the hostess stand where we kept the crayons and coloring paper, her backpack bouncing as she walked.

I scanned the restaurant for Claire, but there was no sign of her. Damn it, I was going to kill that girl. Ever since she hooked up with the cute starting pitcher from the community college, her head was in the clouds and she walked around with a dreamy smile all the time. And now, apparently, she also forgot about babysitting obligations.

“Have you seen Claire?” I asked Joy.

She snorted. “That girl? You mean the one who didn’t show up yesterday for her shift, and called halfway through to say she forgot? No, I haven’t seen her. When I do, she’s gonna get a talking-to, though. Nothing good comes of being barely eighteen and losing your head over some boy.” We shared an eye roll. “She’s scheduled to work two breakfast shifts this weekend, and her skinny behind better get it together, otherwise I’m gonna tell her mama.”

“Well, add missing babysitting jobs to her list of offenses, because she was supposed to watch Annabelle for me this afternoon so I could go to my appointments on campus, and she’s a no-show.” I slumped down onto a stool at the counter and rested my chin on my arms.

“Oh no! I am so sorry, sugar. I would take Annabelle in a minute, but I’m on my own here tonight with Billy, and you know we’ll be pretty busy. Did you ask Heather?” Joy looked distraught. She knew I rarely asked anyone to babysit, and that I was in a precarious position with graduation this spring.

“She’s in Dallas at that wedding expo. It’s okay, Joy. I’ll just take Annabelle with me.” I hoped my voice didn’t sound as defeated as I felt. It wasn’t fair to Annabelle for me to drag her around tonight and expect perfect behavior, but I had done my best to make other arrangements, and there was nothing else I could do.

I wasn’t sure if it was amusing or telling that neither of us mentioned Chase’s sister as a possibility. Elise’s “any time” offer was nice, but I didn’t take it seriously, especially when I was fairly certain she’d said it only for the benefit of Fox being within earshot, not out of any desire to get to know Annabelle.

“I can do it.” I felt Fox’s presence before I heard his voice, but he still startled me.

“What?” I asked stupidly. Joy looked surprised too, but pleased.

“I can watch her for you, Avery. I’m off now, I worked a shift and a half to cover for Billy, but he’s taking over for dinner.” Fox came closer, a cup of coffee in his hand.

My mind raced. I had to be at my advisor appointment in twenty minutes, which was almost physically impossible because campus was about twenty-five minutes away, and then after that I’d be about another half hour or so with my professor. I really only needed someone to care for Annabelle for two hours at the most, with driving time. This could actually work.

But… I still didn’t really know Fox. After our impromptu lunch in the park, I felt closer to him, and he was great with Annabelle, but in reality he was practically a stranger. And then there was the surprise kiss… my cheeks burned every time I thought of how bold I was yesterday.

Sure, I’d googled him a couple times, as would any normal person who had an undeniable yet completely inappropriate attraction to her boyfriend’s friend, but the description of his work history and college background didn’t tell me enough to determine if I should trust him with my child. There was still so much of the unknown about Fox, and he wasn’t exactly forthcoming with personal information. And it was a Friday night. Didn’t Fox have something else to do?

Fox sensed my hesitation. “I want to help you. I give you my word, Avery, she will be safe with me.” My heart thudded a bit at the serious look on his face.

He paused. “We can sit right there in that booth the whole time, and Joy can keep an eye on us.” He gestured to the table closest to the kitchen. “She needs to eat, right? I think I can handle that,” he said.

I looked at the booth, to Annabelle sitting at the counter coloring obliviously, and back to Fox. Joy caught my eye and nodded almost imperceptibly, and I relaxed. My gut was telling me that Fox was sincere, and with Joy’s approval and watchful eye, I was suddenly certain that Annabelle would be in good hands.

“Okay,” I said slowly. “Thank you. Two hours, tops.”

Fox sipped from his cup again and nodded. “No problem.”

“Annabelle, Mama has to go to school for a little while, okay?” I crouched down so I was at her level where she sat on the stool. “But you’re going to stay here with Auntie Joy and Mr. Fox, and have some dinner.”

Annabelle looked up at Fox and grinned. My heart thumped its staccato beat when he smiled back at her. “Okay, Mama. Can I have a grilled cheese sammich? And apples?”

“Sure, baby. I’ll be back in a little bit, be a good girl. Tell Auntie Joy if you need to use the potty.” I quickly moved her coloring paper and crayons to the booth and got her situated. Fox slid in next to her, and Annabelle immediately handed him a crayon.

Time was ticking along, but I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the handsome, rough-around-the-edges man coloring so intently with my little girl. He said something quietly to Annabelle and she giggled, her little face lighting up. My heart was doing that funny thing again when Joy nudged me.

“We’ve got her. Get a move on, darlin’. You’re gonna be late.” She winked.

“Okay. Right. Thank you,” I looked to the booth. “Thanks again, Fox,” I said, blushing slightly when he turned his steady gaze to me.

“Drive safe, Avery,” he replied, and Annabelle waved.

I ran out to the parking lot and jumped in my car, intending to obliterate the speed limit the entire way, but I kept hearing Fox’s voice in my head and my foot eased off the gas pedal just enough to keep it respectable.

* * *

Almost exactly two hours later, I pulled my car back into the diner’s parking lot. I could see a few occupied tables through the window, but the place looked about half empty, typical for after the dinner rush.

I had made good time; even taking seven minutes to stop quickly at the grocery store because I found myself done with my meetings earlier than planned, and solo grocery shopping was a luxury I didn’t take for granted. Seeing as no one had called my cell phone while I was gone, I assumed everything went smoothly and tried not to worry.

But I still wasn’t completely prepared for seeing Annabelle and Fox sitting together in the same booth where I left them, a mostly empty dish of melted vanilla ice cream with two spoons on the table, and my baby girl cozied up into Fox’s side while he showed her something on his iPad. Her dolls and crayons were long forgotten in favor of Fox’s sleek tablet, and she giggled as she tapped the screen happily.

Joy spotted me from across the diner where she was taking an order and gave me a thumbs up, which I took to mean that Annabelle and Fox had hit it off the whole time.

I walked toward them, and Fox noticed me first. He nudged Annabelle, and when she looked up, her face split into a huge smile. They were both grinning at me, and my heart skipped again. I either needed to lay off the caffeine or consider getting that checked. It was getting ridiculous.

“Mama, Mr. Fox has all the games! All the good ones!”

“Oh really?” What were the odds on Angry Birds?

Fox looked a little sheepish, an expression I wasn’t used to seeing on him. “They’re, um, school-related.” He turned the tablet toward me to reveal a letter-tracing app, and I tried to conceal my surprise. “She told me about her preschool, I thought it would be fun for her.”

I was well aware of all the great learning programs available out there, and it was on my never-ending wish list to get Annabelle a tablet someday so she could use them. But every time I scraped together enough money, there was always something more imperative that came along, like car repairs or winter electric bills.

“Thank you for showing me, Mr. Fox.” Annabelle surprised us both by kissing him on the cheek with her ice-cream covered lips. Apparently us Kent girls were big on the sneak attack when it came to random affection.

“It was my pleasure, Annabelle,” Fox said. “Anytime.”

Annabelle considered this carefully. “Okay,” she agreed. “But I need my own ice cream.”

* * *

Fox insisted on carrying Annabelle to the car for me when we left. It was quickly approaching her bedtime, and she made no protest as he scooped her up and led the way out to the parking lot. After settling her in her car seat, I saw him eyeing the grocery bags that filled the rest of my backseat.

“I stopped at the store really quickly,” I said, feeling suddenly guilty. What if he was mad that I hadn’t come straight back? “I hope that was okay.”

“Of course, Avery. I told you it wasn’t a problem for me to hang out with Annabelle.” He looked at the bags again. “That’s a lot for you to carry and get her out of the car.”

We both looked over at Annabelle, who was fighting sleep and losing, her tired eyes half closed.

“I do it all the time,” I said, trying to keep my voice bright. Annabelle’s mouth opened and shut with a little sigh and it took everything in my power not to succumb to the contagious yawn syndrome.

“I’m sure you do,” he said. “You could probably use a break.”

I shrugged, not sure where he was going with this. “It’s not a big deal.”

Fox chuckled a little, a sound that made me think of velvet and waves crashing, or something equally as corny. I blinked dazedly as he continued to speak. “You really don’t make it easy, do you? I’ll make a formal request, then. May I follow you home and help you carry your groceries, Avery?”

Every time he said my name in that rough, deep voice, like the word was important and sacred, something happened in my body. It started in my gut, and spread upwards into my chest, constricting my lungs in the best possible way until I wasn’t sure if I could stand to breathe if I never heard it again.