I’m ready to say fuck the other fifty percent and go all in.
CHAPTERFOURTEEN
Alyssa
This has been the best week. Tamara was on vacation, so work was quiet and an absolute joy to be there. By Tuesday night, I knew that looking for a new job was crucial to my mental health. I applied for several positions in Harris and a couple in Atlanta. I’m not really looking forward to an hour's drive every day. However, there were only a few listings for Willow River, all of which I applied for.
To top off my great week, Sterling called me late Sunday night, letting me know that Palmer’s water broke and that they were headed to the hospital. I offered to go with him, but he wasn’t going until the baby was born. There are a lot of them, so they decided it was best to wait. Well, Brooks decided it was best if they went to the hospital in shifts so they wouldn’t overwhelm the staff.
I woke up Monday morning to a call from Sterling telling me the baby was here and that everyone was doing wonderfully. I had another message from Ramsey. They got home from their honeymoon late Sunday, and she was already in full aunt mode, reminding us ladies of the meal train and the days we signed up for. We didn’t know the dates, so we just numbered the days, starting with the day they came home from the hospital as day one.
The new family of three was released to come home on Tuesday. Palmer’s mom, Mary, took that day, Carol took Wednesday, Ramsey had Thursday, Piper had Friday, and today, Saturday, is my day.
I got up early this morning to go to the grocery store, and I got a few different options. I decided to make baked spaghetti. It’s something that’s easy to heat up. I’m just putting the pan into the oven when Sterling walks in.
“Hey. What are you doing here?” I ask him.
“I came to help.”
“I just put it in the oven.”
“Really?” he asks.
“Too slow, Tank,” I tease. He’s on the other side of the kitchen, which is where I hope that he stays. I don’t need to get all hot and bothered before I get to go meet baby Remi for the first time.
“I have pictures.” He grins at me.
“Gimme.” I hold out my hands, but he shakes his head.
“Come sit with me, and we can look through them.”
“Fine. But let me set the timer. The last thing I need is to burn their food.” I set the timer for fifteen minutes. It really only needs to be in there long enough to melt the cheese. When I reach the couch, I start to walk by him, but he pulls me onto his lap. I don’t bother arguing with him because it’s no use. Besides, I like being close to him. Hopefully, we can keep this moment about his new baby niece, and I can keep my body’s reaction to him under control. While I’d hoped he would keep his distance, there’s a part of me that’s thrilled that he didn’t.
I turn sideways and put my feet up on the couch, resting my back against the arm to get a little separation between our bodies. Sterling slides his arm around my back and pulls me close with one hand while the other taps at the screen of his phone.
The plan is shot all to hell.
“Here we go,” he says. I don’t have to look at him to hear the smile in his voice.
He hands me his phone, and I take my time looking at all of the pictures. “Aww, look at you holding her. She looks so tiny in your arms.”
“I know. I remember Blake being that small once too. She’s cute as hell, huh?” he says, not really needing an answer, but I give him one anyway.
“Very. I can’t wait to snuggle her.”
I’m zooming in on one of the baby, Remi, with a pink hat with her name on it when I feel his hand slide beneath my T-shirt. I thought I wasn’t that good of an actress, but I deserve an Emmy for ignoring the feel of the rough pad of his thumb as it rubs circles against my skin. My plan is to act like it’s not happening.
Pretending is the lesser evil. What if he’s just being casual, and I turn to kiss him, and he pushes me away? Yeah, avoidance is my plan.
He’s driving me wild with his touch, and I don’t know how much longer I can pretend he’s not. Thankfully, the timer sounds on the oven, and I drop his phone like it’s on fire and scramble off his lap, rushing to the kitchen to pull the baked spaghetti out of the oven.
Carefully, I pull back the foil, and the cheese is nice and gooey and melted. I should have made two pans. It’s making me hungry.
“Damn, that smells good. We should have that for dinner,” Sterling says from behind me.
“Are we hanging out tonight?” I ask him.
“Don’t we always?” he asks. I’m not looking at him, so I can’t really know for sure, but he sounds offended that I’d think otherwise.