The Last Dance (7 page)

Christmas shopping with my mother was a nightmare. Thankfully Molly agreed to accompany us today to distract me. Mother was insistent on getting all her shopping done in a day. I found myself looking at items for Rhys and searching through the toy aisles in the store for Bryce, but had no idea if it was even appropriate at this point.

Last week had been a dream. I had spent a few days with Rhys, getting to know his son. Though Bryce seemed a bit weary of me at first, as if I was an intruder, he warmed up to me quickly.

I couldn’t help but smile at the fact that the last time I left them Bryce’s lip quivered slightly, as if he didn’t want me to go. I refused to stay the night, though Rhys objected.

Sunday afternoon, Rhys had fallen asleep on the couch as Bryce and I played on the floor with his new Lego set. We spent the afternoon pulling out his arsenal of toys from his toy box as his father lay practically unconscious in a deep sleep he looked like he so desperately needed. When he woke, he looked up at us and shot to a sitting position, completely disoriented and started apologizing quickly.

“Rhys, we are fine,” I insisted as I nodded over at Bryce, who was telling me about his very important plastic hammer. Rhys laid back down, watching us play, his hands on his chest with his head turned our way, looking to me then his son. His grey eyes told me he was hungry and I shook my head with a smile, giving my attention to the other new man in my life. I looked up every once in a while as he watched us play, catching his stare and smiling. I knew for the first time he was thinking what I was.

This is happy.

“Earth to Violet,” Molly said, holding up two pairs of earrings, to which I wrinkled my nose.

Buying a tie for Rhys seemed
too
impersonal, and though I had let the L word cross my lips, I wasn’t sure how he would receive a Christmas gift. He had a completely different way of showing his affection that didn’t involve sex. He never really vocalized his feelings and had only really opened up to me in my absence while visiting the Caymans. I had rushed into assuming he felt the same, and with each minute we spent together, I could feel his growing feelings, but couldn’t be sure. I did purchase a few toys for Bryce, leaving the mystery of gift giving between me and my new beau open ended. I was going to see him tonight after a long few days of us failing to connect. I was kept late showing houses and Bryce had caught a cold. Rhys didn’t want to chance us both getting sick. I eyed a bottle of men’s cologne on the counter, wondering what type he used.

“So what are you getting him?” I looked up to see Molly smile at my mom who was questioning me and then eyeing me with interest.

“Mom, I swear, please go read someone else’s mind. Does this ever bother Dad?”

“Are you and Rhys exchanging gifts? Are you thinking cologne? Is that his style?” Molly piped, amused at my discomfort. I looked to her with narrowed eyes. She knew more about the nature of my new relationship with Rhys due to a near full confession from me the week I got back from Grand Cayman, a confession I was regretting at that very moment. The tone in her voice mocked the manner in which her question was asked. What I heard from her was “Wouldn’t he much prefer a new whip?” Molly was a petite brunette with big blue eyes. She looked far more innocent than she was, and played it to her advantage.

Molly smiled as she lifted a shirt off a rack and I shook my head at her. Her tiny frame glided quickly through the aisle as I picked up the remains of the end caps I knocked over as I passed through, my ass having a mind of its own. The store was a madhouse and I was thoroughly unnerved at the goings on. My mother seemed fit for the race, and Molly appeared oblivious. My mother lifted a man’s sweater and I shook my head again.

“Mom, I don’t really know if it’s appropriate yet.”

“It’s a sweater, Violet,” she said, giving me a strange look, “and honestly, I don’t know why you mask your feelings for him. The feeling is mutual between the two of you.”

“That’s just it, Mom. I mean, I think so, but I’m not sure.” I shrugged my shoulders as they both eyed me.

“Then take a chance and buy him a noncommittal sweater.” She moved her eyebrows up and down as I yanked it out of her hands. It really was a nice sweater, grey to match his eyes.

“So what’s the hold up, dear daughter?” she continued, plucking clothes off the rack to eye them. “At Thanksgiving you couldn’t live without him.”

“There’s
no
hold up. He’s just not very vocal with his feelings and I have been nothing but. It’s humiliating but I can’t shut up. I assume he will tell me how he feels when he is ready and in a way he already has—”

“In many ways, I’m sure,” Molly added then held her hands up defensively when I took a step toward her, my eyes saying as much as my body language. I sighed as I addressed my mother again. “Anyway, I would just feel better if I knew for sure he was feeling the same.”

My mother looked to Molly then to me, as if she needed back up. “Men are always slow to come around. You have only been dating a few months. He loves you, and I know it. Just give it a little time.”

I put both hands on my face, embarrassed at the conversation. “God, it’s disgusting. I’m being needy. Two weeks divorced and I’m needy.”

“Your mom is right, Violet, but don’t beat yourself up. You are a woman. The minute we meet a decent man and have a good orgasm, we start planning the wedding. Whoops, fuck, I’m sorry, Mrs. Hale.”

“About which part?” she said, grinning at Molly. She knew better than to get through a day with Molly unscathed.

I shook my head at the both of them. “Let’s talk about something else.”

“No,” Molly said, looking pointedly at me, her lips pursing. “You are the only one who has a new hot boyfriend.”

“Amen,” my mother said in agreement as they looked at me expectantly.

“I’m leaving,” I decided quickly. “Why don’t you too speculate on my life while I go live it?” I snatched Rhys’s new sweater and Bryce’s toys out of the cart as they both protested my announcement.

They shared a smile, and I knew the minute I walked out of the store that they would do just that. I had to let go of my need for constant reassurance. I knew where it stemmed from and I wouldn’t let my past win.

A day of shopping, a sweater, and some toys richer, I had a date to get to.

I quickly texted Rhys.

V: I could use some RED.

R: That could be arranged.

V: It can wait. I would rather hold that baby.

R: Not tonight. He’s at his aunt’s until tomorrow morning.

V: Damn it, Rhys.

R: Pussy here, now!

An hour later, I was at his door. We had agreed to meet at his house since Bryce would be delivered bright and early tomorrow. He opened it quickly after I knocked and pulled me to him. I wrapped my arms around him and kissed him hard on the mouth.

“Missed me, huh?” he said, his tone cocky.

“I bought you something,” I said, thrusting the shopping bag in his face. Gift-wrapping—I had decided— would be over doing it, and since technically it wasn’t Christmas, I had nothing to be worried about. I had covered my bases.

He looked at me with puzzlement as I reached in and pulled the sweater out.

“Violet?”

“If you don’t like it, I can get you some cologne or bath salts...shit,” I said, feeling embarrassed and racing to his kitchen to get some wine.

He chuckled as he followed me. “There’s nothing wrong with the sweater, it’s just the manner in which it was presented. You threw it at my head, are you sure you want to part with it?”

I pulled out a bottle and quickly served myself a glass as he studied me. He looked gorgeous in his dark jeans and black, fitted long sleeve t-shirt. His hair was perfectly styled. He was still holding the sweater as he perused me. His eyes held his question, not wavering as they blurred briefly through the lift of my glass. I swallowed more before I braved an answer.

“Sorry, I spent the day with my mother,” I said, turning to his kitchen drawer behind me, rummaging through it to find a stopper for the wine.

“Uh huh,” he said, inching closer.

“Well, she’s crazy. She makes me a little crazy,” I offered, waving my hands around like a crazy person.

“Don’t need much help there,” he said, stepping in front of me, stopping my fidgeting.

“Do you want to get laid tonight?” I said testily.

He paused, studying me, his eyes growing dark. “As if you have a choice,” he said an inch away from me. His eyes were amused but his jaw was set. I felt a shiver run through me.

“How about a tour? I never really got one of upstairs. Show me Bryce’s room.” He looked back at me with confusion as I started toward the stairs, rattling on and on about my day.

My insecurity in the lead, I pounded up the steps and down the hall, searching for Bryce’s room. I didn’t want to spout off about feelings and the nature of our relationship. I wished I had never vocalized my concerns to my mother and Molly, leaving the thoughts in the forefront of my mind. I heard Rhys approach behind me as I turned the knob to a room, finding it filled with a queen bed fit for a guest. With the next turn of the knob, I found myself standing in the baby’s room, surrounded by all things Bryce. I walked to his rocker and picked up his teddy bear, holding it in my hands as I studied the pictures on a shelf above his changing table. They were all of the two of them from day one. I envied Rhys being a parent.

I felt his hands on my shoulders.

“He was a pretty newborn. Most newborns aren’t that pretty, did you know that?” I said, turning to Rhys who was watching me. He eyed the picture I was referring to and nodded.

“How old was he here?” I asked, taking a step out of his arms to scrutinize the next photo.

“Well the frame says six months, Violet.” He chuckled behind me.

“Oh, yeah,” I said placing his teddy in his crib. “It’s a beautiful room.”

“Why don’t you want me to touch you?” he said, turning me to face him.

“I just need you to take it tonight, Rhys. Can you do that?” He pulled me roughly to him, making me cry out.

“With pleasure,” he said, his need growing evident against me. “Then again, what the hell is your problem?”

“Nothing, just do it, okay? I need you to not be the nice guy right now … is that so fucking hard? Do you think you can handle that?” His eyes glazed as his jaw hardened. He looked down at me, the confusion leaving his eyes and his determination setting in. The air shifted and I was suddenly slightly on edge.

He turned me around and lifted my skirt, tearing off my panties in one swift movement, his breath on my neck sending a shiver down my spine. “You seemed to have forgotten who you are talking to. Go to my room, undress.”

Naked in his bed, I waited. I heard nothing, which worried me. I should apologize. I didn’t want to ruin our night with my nervous shit. Things were going so well between us; I didn’t understand why I just couldn’t embrace it.

I’d been bold with him before, rude even, and each time my reception was met with the same distaste and amazing payback.

You lost your cool, worried about his reaction to a sweater, jackass.

“Turn over on your stomach and put your face in the mattress.” I jumped at his voice and looked up at him. He had taken off his shirt but kept his jeans on. He looked ridiculously sexy, but the air of him had changed into something I was familiar with, something I hadn’t seen in a while. Leaning against the door, he held his black bag.