“I’m guessing I’m a good surprise, then?” Kailyn laughs, but her eyes are on me, questioning and a little unsure.
“The best!” Emme gathers up her things and attaches herself to Kailyn as we head out to the parking lot. “Can you come for dinner tonight? I’m making shepherd’s pie. I can still cook, right, Dax?”
I fall into step beside them. “Yeah, of course.”
When she realizes we came in separate cars, she asks if she can ride with Kailyn. It gives me some time to digest what happened in the meeting.
I’m mentally exhausted by the time I pull into the driveway, having stopped at the store to pick up a six-pack of beer and a couple of bottles of wine. I don’t know what Kailyn’s preference is, but I thought it would be good to have options.
Emme and Kailyn are already in the kitchen when I arrive, ingredients spread out over the counter. I lean against the doorjamb. “How’s everything going? Can I help?”
“Do you have an apron I can use?” Kailyn smooths her hands over her skirt. She’s taken off the jacket and rolled up the sleeves of her blouse, and her heels are gone. It’s amazing how someone so tiny can be so intimidating. She’s also sexy as hell.
Emme makes a face at Kailyn. “That’s not really a great outfit for cooking.”
Kailyn laughs. “Not really, no.”
“Oh!” Emme’s eyes light up. “Wanna borrow something of mine?”
Kailyn looks Emme up and down. “That’s really sweet of you, but I don’t think we’re the same size.”
Emme is stuck in that rail-thin stage of puberty, but Kailyn is all lush curves.
“I have loads of leggings. I’m sure I have something.” She grabs Kailyn’s hand and drags her to the stairs.
Kailyn throws a look over her shoulder as if to say help me, but I shrug. I’m sure not opposed to seeing her in a pair of leggings. Typically she’s always in business wear, apart from that one time I saw her in jeans. Purple ones at that.
A minute later Emme comes down and puts me to work chopping onions. “Where’s Kailyn?”
“Getting changed. She’ll be down in a minute.”
The patter of feet draws my attention to the stairs. Kailyn points a finger at me. “Keep your opinions to yourself.”
I bite my lip and raise my hands in mock surrender. “I didn’t say a thing.” But I sure as hell want to. She’s wearing a pair of galactic cat leggings and one of my old It’s My Life hoodies they must’ve snagged from the closet of my old bedroom. She looks a lot like the girl I had a hard-on for all those years ago, and still apparently do considering what’s going on in my pants. I have to think about things like dentures and incontinence so I don’t embarrass myself.
Kailyn claps enthusiastically while glaring at me. “All right. Let’s make shepherd’s pie.”
Emme’s smile is radiant as she and Kailyn work together—ordering me around while they try to teach me how to dice onions, I’m learning slowly here—and I know that, despite today’s hellish meeting, we’re doing okay. And so much of that has to do with Kailyn. She’s effortless with Emme. And when we’re not competing with each other, we’re a hell of a team.
When the shepherd’s pie is ready, Emme pulls it out of the oven, her expression a mixture of excitement and sadness. We set the kitchen island, as it has become our preferred dinner location. The dining room is formal and too big for Emme and me.
Emme serves us, her smile wide as she sets the plates in front of Kailyn and me. It looks and smells amazing, the potato topping crisp, the gravy seeping out to cover the plate. I wait until she’s seated before I spear a forkful and take a bite. “This is really great,” I say through a full mouth.
“Yeah?”
“Awesome,” I mumble.
Kailyn takes her own first bite and moans a contented food sigh. “It’s delicious, Emme.”
And it is. It almost tastes exactly how I remember. Emme has my mother’s talent in the kitchen. My favorite meals were always here, in this house. And I feel like I’ve just gotten that back.
Emme scoops up a small bite and pops it in her mouth. As she chews her smile fades. She swallows slowly and puts down her fork. “It’s not right.”
“What do you mean? It’s amazing.” I shove another forkful into my mouth as if to prove my point.
“It really is, Emme. You did a great job,” Kailyn says.
Emme shakes her head, chin trembling with the telltale threat of tears. “It doesn’t taste the same. Something’s wrong.” Emme pushes back her chair aggressively, sending it toppling backward. Tears fill her eyes and spill down her cheeks as she picks up her plate and crosses to the garbage. She stomps on the lever, causing the lid to slam into the wall, and dumps her dinner, plate and all, into it.
“Em.” I push back my chair and grab her arm, wanting to fix whatever is upsetting her.
“Just let me go, Dax! I wanna be alone!” She shrugs out of my grasp and runs past me, up the stairs.
At the slam of the door I close my eyes and sigh. “Fuck.”
Kailyn runs a soothing hand down my back. “I’m so sorry.”
“Everything was going so well. I mean, the meeting was shit, but she seemed so happy for once.” I motion to the meal in front of us.
“It’s been a hard day for both of you.”
“What if Linda is right? What if I’m not the best person to take care of her? What if all I’m going to do is mess her up more?”
“That’s not going to happen. You’re right here with her, trying to be what she needs. Both of you are figuring out exactly what that is.”
I toss my napkin on the table. “I should go up and talk to her.” I don’t know what the hell I’m going to say to make this better.
Kailyn slips off her chair as I swivel in mine. Her hands come to rest on my knees, maybe to stop me, comfort me, I don’t know. “She asked to be alone. Give her a few minutes before you go up there. I know you want to fix this, but respect her need to process.”
I swallow and nod, my eyes on Kailyn’s hands with her perfect, manicured nails spread over my knees. It’s definitely meant to console, but the contact does something else to me. It’s been weeks since I kissed her, and more weeks since I’ve experienced any kind of physical release apart from on my own. This is different, though. I connect with Kailyn on a level beyond attraction. There’s something deeper—or maybe it’s all in my head because I’m desperate to have someone to hold on to who understands.
“I don’t know what I’m doing.” I skim the length of her fingers and circle her wrists as I part my legs, pulling her between them. She doesn’t resist. In fact, when I release her wrists, she runs her palms up my chest and over my shoulders.
“It’s okay,” she soothes.
I tug her closer, until her body is flush with mine. She relaxes against me almost immediately. God, she feels good, warm, soft, feminine. I drop my head, glad her hair is coiled on top of her head so I can breathe her in. She smells like sunshine and solace.
Her fingers slip into the hair at the nape of my neck, kneading gently. “It’ll be okay, Dax.”