I ached for him. I raged for him. In the hours since I’d been home, my emotions had been riding a rollercoaster.
Knox and I had sat in the hotel room earlier, shrouded in silence until finally he’d brushed his lips to mine in a chaste kiss and left without another word.
Drake let out a string of babbles from his play mat. The oohs and aahs and guhs were coming more often these days.
I stretched out beside him, watching him kick his legs and work his arms. Above him, the mobile of safari animals smiled and swung as he hit one with a fist.
He smiled.
I smiled.
He cooed.
I cooed, mimicking his sound.
The idea of someone taking him away made my stomach churn. How Knox had endured it, how he’d walked away . . .
I pressed a hand to my heart and stared at my son.
We were still navigating through rough waters. Drake and I were close to drowning more often than not. Just last night I’d nearly cracked and answered my phone.
Then Knox had kissed me and as much as I wanted to say it had helped, that kiss had just sent me careening over a waterfall.
The imprint of his large hands lingered on my cheeks. The soft pressure of his lips. The sweep of his tongue.
A kiss to change a life. Or destroy one.
Beyond the windows, the sky was darkening, the Montana days growing shorter and shorter as winter approached. A flash of light had me shooting off the floor and tiptoeing to the glass. The hum of the garage opening below the loft rippled beneath my feet as Knox’s truck eased into the driveway and into its stall beside the Volvo.
I held my breath as a door slammed shut, watching at the window to see which direction he’d head. When he started across the driveway for his own home, I sighed.
Was I relieved? Disappointed? Both?
Knox hesitated on his front porch, glancing over his shoulder and up to my window. He spotted me and lifted a hand.
I waved back.
Then he was gone, under his own roof, flipping on lights as he moved through his home.
I closed my eyes and pressed my forehead to the cold glass.
Knox was a good man. He was as reliable as the sunrise. As breathtaking as the Montana sunsets. He was the type of person I wanted Drake to become.
I stared at his house as he moved into his bedroom and disappeared into the bathroom, probably for a shower after being in the restaurant all day. Only a door separated me from a naked Knox. I pictured the water sluicing over his muscled arms. Dripping over those tattoos. Cascading down the rippled planes of his chest and stomach.
My imagination would have to suffice.
I tore myself away from the window and picked up Drake from the floor. He was up later tonight than normal, but Jill had told me that he’d had a longer nap at daycare, so we’d spent more time playing tonight.
“It’s better this way,” I told Drake as I ran his bath in the sink.
He smiled as he splashed in the sudsy water.
It hurt to lose Knox. It hurt to lose him before I’d even had him. But it was better this way. I had no idea what the future held. I struggled to plan for tomorrow, let alone the next five years.
And I would not be the woman who took another child from Knox.
The beep of my phone’s alarm jolted me out of a dreamless sleep. I fumbled to shut off the beeping so it wouldn’t wake Drake.
Drake.
He hadn’t woken up.
“Drake.” I gasped, panic racing through my veins as I flew out of bed, running to the crib. My heart was in my throat as I reached for him. What was wrong? Why hadn’t he woken up?
He stirred as I hefted him into my arms, his eyelids heavy as he blinked them open.
I scanned him head to toe, feeling across his pajamas. Two arms. Two legs. I pressed my hand to his chest, feeling his breath expand his ribs and letting his heart beat against my palm.
“Ohmygod.” The air rushed from my lungs.
He’d slept through the night.
That was why he hadn’t woken up. Not because he was sick or . . .
I refused to let myself think of the alternative.
He’d slept through the night.
My heart hammered in my chest as I clutched him close. Tears flooded my eyes as the adrenaline spike ebbed. It was fine. He was fine. He’d just slept all night.
Why did that make me cry? I should have been ecstatic, but instead, I spent the rest of the morning on the verge of tears, my hands shaking as I rushed to get ready for the day.
The sound of the garage opening and Knox’s truck rumbling to life sounded while I hurried through a shower. I dropped my brush three times while blow-drying my hair. My stomach was too jittery to eat breakfast. Even the sight of Anne Eden’s apple pie made me queasy, so I filled a glass of water only to choke on the first gulp. My fingers fumbled with the snaps on Drake’s onesie as I worked to get him dressed.
Everything felt . . . off. Unsteady.
“He’s fine.” I whispered those words to myself as I made my way to the car. Then I said them again five more times as I drove into town.
The parking lot at the daycare was bustling with parents coming in and out. I pulled into one of the only empty spaces, then carted Drake inside, passing another one of the mothers in the hallway to the nursery.
The space was narrow, so I shifted Drake’s car seat so it was in front of me, but in the move, the keys I’d had in my other hand fell to the floor. I set him down, bending to pick them up, but that caused the diaper bag over my shoulder to fall.
“What is wrong with me?” Get it together, Memphis. I drew in a deep breath, willing my heart out of my throat, then squared my shoulders and got back onto my feet.
With my keys shoved into a jeans pocket, I was hooking the diaper bag over a shoulder when Jill’s voice carried down the hallway.
“Her biggest priority is finding a new daddy for her baby.”
My entire body froze.
Was she talking about me? No way. It had to be someone else. Unless someone had seen Knox and me at Knuckles, sharing a booth, and assumed we were a couple. That was a stretch. But this was a small town. Maybe gossip traveled that fast.
My head was playing tricks on me today. I shook it off, unstuck my feet.
Another woman’s voice carried from the nursery. “Are you surprised she’s already dating? I think she was seeing this new guy before the divorce was even final. I told you I saw them at Big Sam’s that one night.”
Okay, definitely not me. Big Sam’s Saloon was one of the bars on Main, and a place I’d never been.
What was my problem this morning? Of course they hadn’t been talking about me. It wasn’t like I shared my personal life with Jill. Drake wasn’t talking either. When had I become this anxious, unraveled person? Old Memphis, for all her faults, had always held her head high.
I didn’t miss her, but I wouldn’t be angry if some of her former confidence worked its way to the surface.
The moment Jill spotted me from the nursery, she handed the baby girl she’d been holding to the other woman—one of the ladies I’d seen in the office a few times—then came over and stole Drake’s car seat.
“There’s my favorite guy.” She smiled at him as she unsnapped him from his seat. In no time, he was in her arms, kicking his legs with a smile of his own.
“Here’s his bottles and more diapers.” I hung the diaper bag on Drake’s designated hook.