I nod my head, turning and pointing toward the back yard. “Yep, she’s playing ‘Ariel says’ with Mateo’s kids.”
“Ariel says?”
“Like Simon says, but Ariel. She was teaching them how to hula a few minutes ago, and that didn’t even make sense. Ariel lives in the ocean, right? Mermaids don’t do the hula. She needs to get her shit together.”
Rex cracks a smile. “I’ll tell her that when I find her.”
My phone buzzes, and I glance down at the screen. A little bit ago, a number I didn’t recognize texted me and asked where I was. It turned out to be Felix. I didn’t have his number in my phone, but I guess he got mine out of the computer at the restaurant. When I told him I was at Skylar’s birthday party, he sent me a text back and told me they needed me to come to the restaurant right away, there was some kind of emergency. He wouldn’t elaborate, just asked me to come as quickly as I could.
The text on my phone now is from him again. It reads, “Did you leave yet?”
I text back, “Not yet. On my way!”
Rex is still standing here. “Rafe?” he questions.
I glance up at him. “Hm? Oh, the phone? No, it’s a co-worker. Some kind of kitchen crisis. They need me to come in.” I roll my eyes indulgently. “That place would collapse without me, I swear to God. Anyway, I gotta go. Have fun with your mermaid.”
I make it
off the porch, but before I can make it to my car, Rafe steps into view. I glance past him at Mateo. He doesn’t spare me a glance, just turns and heads toward the backyard, presumably to retrieve his wife and kids now that the party is over.
“Running off without saying goodbye?” Rafe inquires as he approaches, seeing me holding my car keys.
“Restaurant emergency,” I tell him. “I was trying to find you to say goodbye, but I didn’t know where you went.”
Nodding to where he stood with Mateo, he said, “Talking shop with the Chicago cousin.”
I smile and take a step forward, throwing my arms around his neck and hugging him. “Well, I’m glad you caught me.”
“Me too,” he murmurs, rubbing my back. “Actually, I need to talk to you. Now that the party’s over, I want to take you to my place. We’ll have a little more privacy there.”
“Your place,” I repeat, somewhat warily.
Nodding, he brings his hand up to caress my face. “I’ve been thinking about some things. Bookstores and freckles,” he murmurs, looking at the bridge of my nose. His thumb moves across my bottom lip next, his dark eyes lingering there for a couple silent seconds. Meeting my gaze again, he finally concludes with, “It’s important.”
He’s not saying what I think he’s saying… is he? “Well…” I glance at my car, then down at my phone, torn. There’s another text on my display from Felix, asking me to please hurry. Looking back up at Rafe, I say, “How about this? Can I go to the restaurant real fast and see what they need, then I’ll swing by your house and we can talk?”
“No,” he says simply, pushing my hair behind my ear. “I’ve waited long enough. I’m not waiting any longer.” Reaching down and taking the phone out of my hand, he drops it into his pocket and twines his fingers together with mine.
My heart nearly stops. I look up at him, afraid to hope, but everything he’s saying sounds really positive. Could he really want to get back together?
My sense of responsibility tells me I need to go to the restaurant and fix whatever problem they’re having, but my heart takes control and makes me follow Rafe past my car to his. He walks me to the passenger side and opens the door for me. I smile up at him and thank him. He nods wordlessly and closes the door once I’m inside.
I can’t believe this is happening. I don’t even know what to think. On one hand, I don’t want to get jerked around again, but on the other, this could be real. Mia was Rafe’s idea of what he could have had; maybe seeing her and her husband together while they’ve been staying with him has made him realize he could be just as happy, if only he’d let himself. If only he would let in the woman who is perfect for him.
Rafe knows I’m perfect for him. He told me so. He told me I was perfect.
Sighing happily, I decide to test the waters, reaching over and resting my hand on his thigh while he drives. He glances down at my hand, then looks over at me. His gaze drifts to the silly clamshell bra stamped on my tank top.
“Take off your shirt.”
My eyes widen. “What? We’re driving down the road.”
“You can leave your bra on,” he tells me. “I want a peek. Just take off the tank top.”
Sighing, I consider telling him no, but then I decide, what the hell? It’s not like anyone else can see me, anyway. I reach for the hem of my tank top and drag it off over my head, so that I’m sitting here in just a purple lace bra and my denim jeans.
“Better?” I ask playfully.