My own tongue betrays my interest by swiping across my bottom lip. A groan echoes around us, and I’m too far gone to determine which one of us made the sound.
“Do you know how fucking tempting you are?”
He steps in closer, the celery, carrots, and head of lettuce in my hands keeping him from closing the distance completely.
This is a bad idea. I know it as sure as the doctors know my mother came back home to die. But just like the insidious cancer eating away at her, I have no power to stop this either.
“Ignacio,” I whisper, a plea for him to pump the brakes because I’m not able.
“Tinley,” he counters, but there’s no mocking tone to his voice as he leans over the produce in my arms to get his face closer to mine.
His palm brushes my cheek, the touch a hot brand on my skin. I fail at not leaning into it. God, it’s been so long since I’ve been touched by a man. Years since one has shown even a hint of the sincerity and desperate need I can see in Ignacio’s eyes. Being wanted, even if nothing can happen, is like a balm to my soul, a reassurance that I’m not someone he can look past and not desire. Him being who he is and the heaps of stuff between us becomes inconsequential the closer he gets.
My eyes flutter closed just as his mouth brushes my own, a whimper of need and pain escaping my lips.
“She’s resting comfortably.”
We snap apart, the head of lettuce in my hands falling to the floor and rolling across the room.
Patricia, the hospice nurse, bends down to pick it up as if she didn’t just interrupt what could’ve been the biggest mistake I’ve made in over a decade. She hands it back to me as Ignacio steps away and begins carrying canned goods to the pantry.
“I think the new meds will make her able to get restful sleep. Do you have a few minutes to talk about the side effects and what to look for?”
I nod, setting down the produce and following her out of the room. It takes fifteen minutes for Patricia to explain all the things she needs to tell me, having made it as easy as possible with a chart on what medications to give and how often.
When we’re done, I walk out of Mom’s room to find Ignacio not in the house and his truck missing from the curb. Although I breathe a sigh of relief not to have to face him again so soon after nearly kissing him for the second time, I feel a little twinge of regret for being interrupted before it could happen in the first place.
Hopefully, he stays gone for a while. Dealing with the emotions he’s dragged back to the surface after so long, in addition to what’s happening with my mother and making sure Alex is as comfortable with what’s going on as I can is exhausting. Doing all of that while he’s right in my face would be impossible.
Chapter 17
Ignacio
I never understood how people could move around each other, be in the same space after something happens that shouldn’t have and not talk about it. Yet here I am living that reality.
Four days ago, I nearly kissed Tinley. Again.
Four days ago, I hauled ass out of her house with the intent to stay away until she or Alex called to tell me they needed or wanted me there. It lasted two hours. I went back to my shitty little house, geared up for a run, completed said run in record time, fueled by need and rage and utter helplessness, only to shower and go right back to her house.
Last night, I didn’t even leave. I fell asleep on the couch watching television with Alex only to wake up this morning to the sun glaring on my face through a crack in the front curtains. I’m counting the blanket covering me when I woke as a peace offering and forgiveness for taking advantage of the situation four days ago and nearly pressing my mouth to hers.
“Can we go home now?” Alex asks, his breaths still coming out in a rush after the home run he scored a few minutes ago.
Tinley stayed home, but insisted Alex attend his game when he tried to beg off.
The crowd cheered them on with renewed enthusiasm since they won last week, and their enthusiasm could be felt in every smiling face as the boys did it again today. This town needs a little cheer, but I could tell even though he played well, Alex’s heart just isn’t in it. His mind is back home with his grandmother who has only gotten progressively worse since she came home from the hospital.
“Sure thing,” I tell him. “Think we should stop and grab lunch?”
He mulls this over, his teeth pulling at loose skin on his bottom lip, something I’ve noticed him doing more often lately.
“I know your mom loves that Asian food place on Beckett.”
“What about Nanny? She can’t eat spicy foods.”
“Buddy.” I want to wrap him in a hug when realization makes his face fall.
“Nanny can’t eat anymore.” His eyes dart away, his face set in scowl when he realizes he’s still in public, and there’s no way he can break down here where his peers may see and give him shit for it later.
“But I think if we get your mom the orange chicken, lo Mein, and a couple egg rolls that she may not complain when we turn the game on tonight.”
He nods, but I can tell his heart just isn’t in this either.
The ride to the restaurant, the wait for food, and the drive back to his house are all spent in silence. I can’t open my mouth to tell him everything is going to be okay, because it won’t be. He’s going to hurt for a long time. He’ll always feel the loss of his grandmother. Downplaying it or trying to get him to focus on the good memories he has had with her would not only be disrespectful to his feelings, but it would also be rude considering Brooke is still alive, although the end is near.
Tinley doesn’t get excited when we come home with more food than the three of us could possibly eat in an evening. She doesn’t even come out of Brooke’s room when Alex walks into the house like she has every day this week when he got home from school.
I know from the tension in the air the second we walk in that it won’t be long. The woman I love but don’t have the balls to tell and my son are about to have their world blown apart, and there’s nothing I can do to take away or ease the pain that’s coming.
Alex leaves me, unconcerned for the food we just picked up and goes to find his mom. I busy myself getting plates and silverware together for when they’re ready to eat.
A knock hits the front door, and I rush to answer it because the two people I care about most in the world could possibly be saying their final goodbyes, and that needs to be something they can do uninterrupted.
A face from my past is staring back at me when I tug the door open.
“The fuck?” Cooper Holland snaps when he sees me.
Time hasn’t been generous with him. Even through Tinley’s stress and hard work she’s still the same beautiful angel she was thirteen years ago. Her older brother on the other hand looks like he’s aged thirty years. His sunken eyes, pointed cheekbones, and the unhappy look on his face makes the man look like every minute of every single day since the last time I saw him has been spent in agony.
“Hey, man,” I say, still unwilling to step aside for him to enter. It’s not my place to keep this man from his family, but he was supposed to be here days ago.
I only overheard part of the conversation Tinley had with him the day after she came home from the hospital with the news of what was going on with Brooke, but he had assured her he’d head this way immediately. That was nearly a week ago.