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I was pretty sure meeting Carly Sanders had something to do with it, too.
“Why don’t you go show me how high you can go on the swings?” I asked Ella then. I glanced over my shoulder, catching the shine of Carly’s dark hair in the afternoon sun. “I’m having so much fun with you, of course, but I think I want to sit with your mama for a minute. You know, so she doesn’t get jealous that we’re playing without her.”
Ella nodded, understanding in a way that was wise beyond her years. “Mama needs friends, too.”
That sweet statement shot a shockwave of feeling into my chest. Something a little sad, maybe, but laced with strong affection for this child and the mother who’d clearly raised her to be kind and smart. “Exactly.”
I blew Ella a kiss as I went to meet Carly on the park bench, and I heard her sweet, childish giggle follow me there.
“You’re amazing with her,” Carly told me the second I came to sit beside her. She moved over enough that I could share space on the bench easily, but not so far that I couldn't still feel her warm body reaching out to mine. Maybe it was pushing my luck, but I made sure to spread my legs a little wider, testing the waters with some gentle contact between the outsides of our thighs, just the subtlest exchange of body heat. Carly didn’t move away, which I took as a good sign.
“She’s such a cool kid, Carl. You done good,” I said, and I couldn’t help but lean over to nudge her arm with mine. Any excuse to touch her.
“I try. But if I’m honest, she’s always been great. Sweet, not too prone to tantrums, and of course, smart as anything. I’m not sure I had anything to do with it.” She looked out at the scene before us, and we both smiled as we saw Ella approach a younger kid who was sitting on a springy rocking horse with the help of her dad. I could just imagine the fun science facts the kid was sharing.
“You had everything to do with it,” I told Carly honestly. “You’re sweet and smart as hell, too. I can’t vouch for the no tantrums, though.”
She laughed, and fuck, if that wasn’t the best sound in the world.
“Thanks. Anyway, I’m sorry to say it, but I never really thought you’d be much of a kid person. So… thanks for being so cool to her.”
“Hey, I’m not offended. I get why you’d think that.” I gestured toward myself, waving my hands over the array of colorful tattoos on my arms. Carly watched, and it was probably wishful thinking, but I could almost see a spark of heated interest in her eyes. I adjusted in my seat, carefully testing the waters with the tiniest bit of more contact. Still, she didn’t move away.
“Do you have much experience with kids?” Carly asked.
“Not a lot, no. But when Logan and I were just getting started in the restaurant business, I did lots of catering gigs for kids’ parties. They were always pretty fun to be around. Even the bratty ones, sometimes.”
“Oh, that’s wild. I can’t picture you making mac and cheese and chicken nuggets for a bunch of seven-year-olds.” Carly laughed.
“You know me. I always got more creative than that. Still kid friendly, but always with my own artistic flair. You get it.”
She looked at me with surprise, then, practically snapping her head toward me. Her brow was furrowed, and I wanted to smooth out the small crease with my thumbs, leave a kiss in its place. “What do you mean?”
“The artistic thing,” I said again. Fucking hell, even your face is a work of art. “You still do photography, right? Or did I miss something and you actually sold your camera to pay for, like, your secret gambling addiction?”
She laughed again, an edge of disbelief underneath it. “Sorry, no, you’re right. I still do photography. I think I just forgot I ever told you about that.”
“It’s been a while, but I’m like a steel trap,” I joked, tapping a finger to my temple. “Especially with details about you.”
That last part probably should have stayed in my head, but I could never resist a chance to make Carly’s cheeks turn pink with a mixture of embarrassment and girlish delight. Goddamn, it really was beautiful, especially in the perfect sunlight of a blue sky day. I needed to see Carly outside of work more often.
With my careful questions about Carly’s artistic process, she started to reveal a little more of the creative soul she hid under that sexy competence and practicality. It was fun to see her talk about something other than work, and I noticed the two things she loved talking about most—art and Ella. She’d share how she loved making crafts with Ella, passing on the love for creation she had to the child she’d created of her own flesh and blood. All along, we watched Ella play, her young mind never running out of things to entertain herself, whether she was playing with other kids or just making up her own solo Ella games.
“God, this is so nice,” Carly sighed as Ella disappeared around a corner, her playful laughter serving almost as sonar. “I’ve been so busy lately with work, with everything, that I haven’t had time to just… have a day like this. With Ella, or with friends.” She looked at me sheepishly, and I loved being her friend, but damn, did I want to kiss her when those gray-blue irises were curtained by her dark lashes. “I worry, sometimes. That I’m not there for Ella enough. For anyone, really. It’s so hard to find that balance, you know?”
“That’s normal,” I told her, as if I knew anything about parenting anxieties. My own parents hadn’t given a shit about me, but I guess I knew a little something about paternal love, at least, thanks to Dwight. “You worry because you care, not because what you’re worried about is true. You’re a killer mom, Carl. And a hell of a woman, too.”
On an impulse, I reached out a hand and gripped Carly’s thigh—barely above the knee, innocent enough for us to convince ourselves it was completely platonic, though it was harder to pull away than it would have been if that were really the case. Her dark leggings were soft, thin enough that I was hyper aware of the closeness of her skin. I imagined the creamy smoothness of her thighs, how easily they would part for me.
Christ, it was a shockwave. Lust seemed to fall into my lap, or more accurately, it radiated from my palm all the way through me, making my dick harden slightly in my jeans. I adjusted on the bench, not caring if she knew why I was squirming. I still had my hand on her thigh, and the rush of that contact made me bold. That, and the fact that Ella had her back to us, her blonde head peeking out from between the playground equipment, just far enough away for me to relish in being unobserved.
“You spend so much time worrying about everyone else,” I told Carly, unconsciously leaning closer to her so I could smell the faint vanilla scent of her lotion. “Who’s there to take care of you?”
My heart was thumping erratically in my ears. I was so close to Carly, now, leaning in more than a friend would, but she wasn’t pulling away. In fact, was I nuts, or was she angling her body more toward me, her breath coming out a little more labored? Her eyes dragged up my chest, my throat, lingering on my lips for a long second that instantly hardened my cock further. I knew this wasn’t the place, and that we were friends, and that all of this was complicated. But friends didn’t look at each other the way Carly was looking at me, like she wanted me to kiss her as badly as I wanted to do it.
I knew the way women looked at me, the effect I had on them when I set my sights on sex or seduction. But Carly had always seemed nearly immune to my charms. Sure, she played along when I flirted, blushed up a storm, laughed in a nervous-flattered kind of way. But she’d never made any attempts to amp things up on her end. Even if she wanted to, she was too damn professional to let that kind of thing get in the way when she was at work.
But we weren’t at work now. Maybe that was why I was testing the limits of our friendship, trying to suss out whether she was attracted to me in the same way I was nearly rabid for her. If she’d be brave enough to let herself have what she wanted once she admitted it to herself.
