The next evening, I’m pacing my bedroom. Why did I agree to this?
The reasons Lee and I broke up are still relevant. His dad, Al, and my mum, Trudie, are married, making him my stepbrother, which is just eww. And if that wasn’t bad enough, we share a sibling. Our baby sister, Dixie, is only four months older than my oldest daughter, Astrid. It’s weird. Super freaking weird.
Dropping my head back, I stare at the ceiling, then “T-shirt” by Thomas Rhett starts blaring from my phone, and I scoop it up from my comforter. Charlotte’s name flashes on the screen. “Hey,” I answer.
“What are you wearing? Tell me!” she demands.
I can’t help my laughter. “A towel ...”
Her huff fills the line, and I laugh again. “Very funny,” she retorts.
She’s rolling her eyes at me right now, I just know it, and it makes me smile.
“What are you wearing on your date tonight, you cow.”
I sigh. “I don’t know. I’m actually having second thoughts about all of this. He’s my stepbrother, Char.”
“Heck yeah he is. It’s like a steamy romance novel come to life, girl. Jump on it.” She says this like I’m the luckiest woman in the world.
My head drops, and I rub my temples with my free hand. “Seriously, what the hell kind of books are you reading?”
She scoffs. “Honey, if you’ve never read one, you’re missing out. You need to get on that—and your incidentally sexy-as-shit stepbrother, too, while you’re at it.”
“I don’t know why I even talk to you about this stuff,” I groan.
“Because you need someone to spell it out for you. It’s not that big of a deal, babe. You’re making it an issue when it doesn’t need to be. You’re a grown-arse woman. You can be with whomever you want.”
I run my hand through my damp hair. “But I’m not the girl he fell in love with anymore. I’m a mother. I’ve given birth three times, Char. That changes a woman, like, down there.” I whisper the last part.
“I’m sure he can handle all the changes, babe. But you’ll never know if you don’t give him that chance.”
I nod, then snort, because dah, she can’t see me. “Okay.” I take a deep breath. “Okay, you’re right.”
“Dah,” she says. “Now, what are you going to wear?”
Finally, a spark of excitement ripples through me, and I approach my closet.
An hour later, I’m dressed in a pair of cream, high-waisted linen shorts with huge pockets because pockets are life. My boobs look amazing in the best bra I own underneath a soft, loose-fitting cami, and I’m wearing heels for the first time in a long time.
I check my reflection in the mirror, making sure my makeup is just right.
I smile. I tidy up okay.
A knock sounds from the front door, and I check the clock on my bedside table. He’s early. I snatch my bag off the end of my bed and race out of my room. I’m so intent on reaching the front door I don’t even see Ari’s fake pearl necklace hanging out of the toybox across the floor ... I go down—hard.
I slide my hand into my pocket after knocking on Tilly’s front door and wait. I know I’m early, but I figure I can sit on her couch and get a feel for her space if she’s not ready. Then, a high-pitched squeal pierces the air.
I’m turning the handle on the front door and throwing it open in seconds. I don’t know what I expected to find, but it was not the scene I’m greeted with.
Tilly is on her hands and knees in front of me, and I’ve got a clear view right down the front of her top. I can’t tear my eyes away from her beautiful breasts that are somewhat larger than I remember.
“A little help ...” she says.
“Shit, Till. What happened?” I ask as I help her to her feet.
She keeps her hands wrapped around my wrists when we’re standing then glances at her feet. “I tripped on Ari’s necklace.” She lifts one foot, winces, then mutters, “Crap.”
“What?”
“I broke my shoe and possibly my knees.” Her forehead creases as she squeezes her eyes shut and sucks in a harsh breath.
I move, sliding one arm behind her knees, the other around her waist, pick her up, and take her to the couch where I sit, cradling her in my arms. She hooks her elbow around my neck. God it feels good.
She has curves now that she didn’t have when we were teens. And I like them a lot. My arm curled around her back tightens, tugging her in closer to my body. It’s been too long since I had her this close.
“I’m okay, Lee, really. I’ll be fine. We can go,” she says.
I have zero interest in ending this moment—besides the fact that I’m pretty sure she really did hurt her knees. I shake my head. “We don’t have to go anywhere. How about you put your feet up and I’ll get you an ice pack? We can order a pizza instead of going out.”
Her gaze lingers on my lips as I speak, and my blood rushes south. Fuck. I need to get her out of my lap before she feels what she’s doing to me. I slide her to the side, lowering her butt to the cushion beside me as I swing out from under her.
My eyes trace down her long bare legs, and I swallow. Jesus. I always did love those legs. Especially when they were wrapped around me.
My dirty trip down Memory Lane is pulled to a screeching halt at the sight of the swelling and bruising that’s already started on both her knees.
Hovering over her, I sweep a few strands of hair from her eyes, tucking them behind her ear, then kiss her temple because I just can’t help myself. “You got an ice pack or bag of peas in your freezer?”
She nods. “I’ve got three kids; I have ice packs.”
Right, of course. I straighten and go in search of her kitchen. It’s not hard to find. Her house has a pretty open plan, putting the kitchen just around the corner from the lounge we’re in. I grab a Disney Princess ice pack and a Buzz Lightyear one from the freezer, then take a couple of cloths that hang from the oven door and wrap them.
When I return, Till’s removed her strappy heels and is chewing her bottom lip. I place the ice packs on her tender knees, and if I wasn’t watching her so closely, I would have missed the wince. “You okay?”
“Just dandy,” she mutters, glaring at something.
I follow the path of her glare to a little fake-pearl necklace laying on the floor. She may hate that thing right now, but I’m not complaining. Because of it, I got her in my arms a hell of a lot sooner than I was anticipating. I grin and cup her jaw, turning it to face me. “Pizza sound good?”
“I can’t believe I ruined our date before it even started.”
“You didn’t. I actually prefer this,” I tell her honestly. “I get you all to myself.”
She finally gifts me with a smile. “Okay. Pizza sounds good.” She slides her phone from her pocket. “You still like Meatlovers?”
I nod and she makes the call to place the order while I gently lift her legs and slide in under them. I place them in my lap and throw my arm over the back of the couch as I turn to face her. She is absolutely breathtaking. Her pink hair hangs in soft curls around her face as she stares at me in return.
When she ends the call, I tell her what’s on my mind. “I should have come home sooner.”
“I get why you didn’t,” she says. “I hurt you. If I could have run, I would have.”
A lump forms in my throat. I did run away. After our parents shocked the shit out of us by secretly dating and accidently making a baby together, Tilly broke up with me. I could handle that as long as I still had her in my life. But then, in an attempt to drown her sorrows, she hit the party scene and ended up pregnant. That had been my breaking point.
Her eyes search mine, and I let her see the pain in them. “You didn’t hurt me intentionally. I know that. I just couldn’t hang around to watch you making a go of it with Curt. It was too much. When I heard you two split up, I almost came back.”
She gasps. “What?”
I take a deep breath and let it all out. I’ve done a lot of thinking since I saw her in the grocery store, and I need her to know where my head’s at.
I take her hand, lacing our fingers, and squeeze. “You were my best friend, and I thought that was what I missed the most when I first left. But after three failed attempts at moving on, I realised I missed more than our friendship. I measured every girl I met against you. And none of them came close.”
“Lee,” she breathes.
“Just let me talk for a minute, Till. I need to say this.”
She nods. “Okay,” she whispers then squeezes my hand back.
“It’s always been you for me. I understand why you didn’t feel like we could be together back then. But, Till, babe, it’s still you. I didn’t come home straight away because I knew you wouldn’t be ready to hear all this—you needed time.” I pause, letting everything I feel for her come to the surface, hoping she sees it. “I want to give this—us—a real chance.”
“You do?” she asks so softly I only just catch it.
“I do. So damn much. I know things are different now, but I can’t imagine the way I feel about you ever changing.”
She looks away, staring at seemingly nothing. “I have three kids, Lee. It wouldn’t just be me you’re dating. And Curt will always be a part of my life. I can’t regret being with him. He treated me like a princess, and he’s an amazing father. If you really want to do this, you need to accept that.”
“I can do that,” I reply immediately. I don’t want her to doubt me for even a second.
Her eyes return to mine. “Astrid is a handful. She and Dixie are besties, which still weirds me out sometimes, especially when Dixie tells people Astrid is her niece. Sailor is constantly blurting out inappropriate things at the very best times. And Ari? Well, she’s a typical three-year-old. My life isn’t even a little bit simple, and that’s a lot for anyone to take on.”
I smile. “I’m not just anyone, Tilly. You and I both know that. I’ve thought this out. I get that Curt is part of the deal—I’m okay with it. And the kids?” I grin. “I won’t pretend I know what I’m doing with them, but I’m willing to learn. They’re tiny pieces of you. How could I not love them?”
Before she can respond, a knock comes from the front door. “That’ll be the pizza,” I say, sliding out from under her legs.
I pay for the pizza and return to the couch. “You want a plate or should we just eat it out of the box?”
“The box is fine, but we might need napkins,” she says, starting to swing her legs off to the side.
Dropping the box on the far end of the couch, I grab her legs. “Tell me where they are—I’ll get them.”
She licks her lips. “There should be a roll of paper towels on the bench beside the microwave.”
“I’m on it,” I say with a wink.
Curt may have treated her like a princess, but I’m going to treat her like a damn queen.
My queen.