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“Never close. We didn’t have anything in common, even though he is—was—a good man. Distant but kind. And now, he’s just…gone. And Grayson—he’ll never know his grandpa, and fuck, this is so hard.”
I just keep holding him while he breaks down and cries harder. When his tears finally start to slow, then turn to sniffles, he whispers, “Thank you,” before leaning back in his chair.
His eyes shift away from me, and I step back, though I keep one hand on his shoulder. He spins his chair back to face his computer. He wipes under his eyes, his cheeks and the tip of his nose red from crying.
“I need to buy plane tickets. Do you think you could help me pack up Grayson’s things?” he asks without looking at me.
I wish he would look at me again, but I think he might be embarrassed about crying in front of me. I want to tell him that there’s no need to be embarrassed, but it might make him feel worse if I bring attention to it, so I leave it be.
“Of course. Anything you need.” I mean it. I’ll do anything I can to help him through this. “How long will you be gone?” With a baby so young, there’s going to be a lot he will have to travel with. “I need to figure out how much milk you’ll need to take with you and also look up the rules for bringing it on an airplane.”
“Mom wants us to come up tomorrow and stay the weekend. They’re having Dad’s funeral on Saturday, and then we’ll fly back Sunday night.”
“Ok, wow, that’s really quick. The airport is going to be crazy busy with the holidays, too.”
“I know.” He sighs, sagging under the weight of his grief, and I know he has to be thinking about how stressful traveling will be.
I have an idea, though I don’t know if I’m overstepping, especially since this will be a really hard time with his family.
“Do you-would you want me to come with you?” I ask hesitantly. “To help with Grayson on the plane and during the funeral?”
He looks at me with surprise. “You’d do that for me? I mean for Grayson?”
“Of course, I would. I told you, anything you need.” I let that hang in the air so he knows I mean it, but then a thought occurs to me that might be a dealbreaker. “Um, would you be ok with me bringing Lainey? I know my mom wouldn’t mind watching her, but I don’t want to leave her for that long.”
“I wouldn’t want to leave her either. Wherever you go, she goes.”
My stomach flutters at the thought that he doesn’t like the idea of leaving her behind any more than I do. He’s always been so sweet with her, never put out or annoyed by her, even when she fusses or has rough days.
“Ok. How much are the tickets?” I pull out my phone and tap on my banking app. James pays me much more than I originally asked for—a hell of a lot more than the ice cream shop paid me—but I try to save as much of it as possible since my college fund won’t cover childcare if I move away. “I need to double-check how much I can take out of my account.”
He takes my phone and turns the screen off, setting it face down on the desk. “Don’t worry about that. I’m paying since you’re doing me a huge favor.” He hits the back button on his computer and starts clicking around, adding two more tickets to his total, which is an astronomical sum. My stomach flutters again.
Right before he clicks the checkout button, he asks me, “Do you need to ask your parents if you can go?” His eyebrows are pinched, and his hand hovers over the mouse.
“I’m eighteen, remember? I’ll let them know we’re leaving, but I don’t need to ask their permission.”
Something in his eyes flashes, and he quickly turns back to the screen, hiding his expression as he finishes paying for our plane tickets. He was able to pick our seats, and my brows arch when I realize why the total is so high. He’s picked two first-class seats next to each other, and we can take turns holding the babies on our laps. I’ve only flown on a plane once before, but it was economy, so this will be a new experience.
Once he’s saved the ticket confirmations, he turns off the screen and slumps in his chair, slowly swiveling it back to face me. I hadn’t stopped rubbing his back or running my fingers through his hair the whole time, and for some reason, it now feels even more intimate.
When a fresh tear slides down his cheek, I step as close as I can, nudging his knees with mine. He parts them, and I step between them, stopping when my knees bump against the edge of his chair. His lips part, and he exhales sharply when I swipe my thumb across his cheek, wiping the tear away. I do the same to the next tear that falls, cupping his cheeks with my palms.
“Shayla…” he whispers my name on a breath so low I would have missed it if I weren’t looking right at him.
My eyes dance between his, and my breath catches when he settles his large hands gently on my hips, then slides them up my sides to my ribs. His touch is so soft, and my heart beats faster. I don’t know what’s happening, but I know I don’t want whatever this is to stop.
“Is there anything else I can do to help? To…comfort you?” Oh god, my heart is pounding double-time now, unsure what it is exactly that I’m offering or why I asked him that way.
He makes a strangled gulping sound in his throat as his eyes dip to my chest and back up again. His jaw goes slack, and he nods once.
I’ve known from day one that he’s had an infatuation with my breasts. He always tries to be respectful and averts his eyes when I nurse, other than the first few times when he was in too much shock to do so. He usually leaves the room to give me privacy when he has nothing to occupy himself. But when I’m not nursing, I catch him staring at my chest all the time, though he tries to hide it.
I think I know how I can comfort him.
His fingers flex around my ribs while his eyes follow my shaky hand to thumb the left strap of my white nursing tank top. He sucks in a breath when I unclip it and slowly pull the fabric down, exposing my breast to him.
I’m trembling with adrenaline, and my blood rushes in my veins when his eyes zero in on my nipple. His tongue slips out to lick his bottom lip, and my breasts jiggle slightly as my chest rises and falls faster and faster as my breathing accelerates.
