Our Finest Hour (The Time #1)(35)

“It's very adult,” she finishes.

I watch her lips twist. “You mean not kid-friendly.” My heart sinks to somewhere between my knees. I want Aubrey to like what she sees.

“It's not that, not really. It would have been way less kid-friendly a few years ago.” She reaches out, touches the tip of her finger to the corner of my media table. “Ninety degree angles? Not so kind to a toddling child's head. Or face.” She closes her eyes and looks away, and I want to know what she's remembering. Is it a time when Claire got hurt? Or Aubrey?

“Are you saying I'm not a predator, then?” I can't help the indignation in my voice right now. I get where Aubrey is coming from, but it feels offensive. I want nothing more than to be a daddy to a little girl who needs one. End of story.

Aubrey sighs. “I'm sorry.” She fingers the little gold C on the delicate chain around her neck. Her head jerks up suddenly. Her eyes are fiery. “Actually, I'm not sorry. Until now it has been me and Claire against the world. What kind of protector would I be if I dumped her into the hands of a man neither of us knows very well?”

“A gullible one, I suppose.” I don't like admitting it, but she has a point. I also don't like admitting how impressed I am with her tenacity, especially since I'm the one coming up against it.

We stand, staring at one another, until the air is electric and I feel the charge running over my skin, sizzling and crackling.

“You should probably know that Jenna and I broke things off.” My voice is rough. I drag my hand across the back of my neck and over my throat.

Aubrey pivots suddenly, hurrying to the front door. I stay rooted in place, watching her.

“We’ll see you at the zoo this Saturday. I'm a member, so we can get in early. Meet us at nine?” Her lips part as she waits for my response.

I stare. Did she hear what I said?

It dawns on me that she’s choosing to ignore what I’ve just told her. “Nine it is.”

She leaves, the door falling shut behind her. I go to lock it, and when I turn around the glittery breast picture catches my eye. My stride across the room is purposeful. I want that picture out of sight. With one hand, I remove it and set it on the floor so it faces the wall. Picture time-out.

I fall back, letting the couch catch me, and lay my head against the back of it. Thoughts run amok in my brain. And they're all about one person. A girl with raven hair and eyes blue like an ocean.

Aubrey is a complex creature. Layered. And every moment I spend around her makes me want to spend more moments around her, until they become hours and days and years.

What the hell?

I barely know Aubrey. She might as well have warning signs written all over her. Every movement of her body says to stay away. The pushed-out hip, the sharp angles of her arms that are almost always crossed in front of her. And those eyes. So guarded. But not dull. You'd think someone who spends her life keeping people at a distance would have lifeless eyes, but she doesn't. Every time I’ve seen Aubrey, her eyes are alight with some kind of fire. Like she's perpetually ready to fight, to defend, to protect. Herself. And Claire.

Aubrey is a fighter. The quiet kind. The kind that doesn’t have to beat her chest to demonstrate her strength. She reminds me of my dad. I should consider myself lucky she's being so accommodating with Claire and leave it alone.

That's exactly what I'm going to do. It's what I have to do.





Why can’t text messages have a recall button? I should’ve kept my mouth shut like I did at his house, but no. I just had to lie down tonight and overthink and text. Because everyone knows texts sent after midnight are sensible.

About Jenna… Is it really over?

Ten excruciating minutes later: So you did hear me.

Me: Was it about Claire? Is that why she broke up with you?

Isaac: Yes and no.

Me: Which one is it?

Isaac: Isn’t this a conversation we should have face to face?

Me: No.

Isaac: It went far beyond Claire. But she was the impetus.

I release a gigantic sigh of relief into my dark room. Now that I know that, I feel better.

Me: Are you using fancy doctor words on me?

Isaac: ???

Me: Your request to go to the zoo tomorrow was the impetus of this conversation.

Isaac: Are you using fancy doctor words on me?

I can’t stop the smile that spreads across my cheeks.

Me: Nope. But if you’re lucky I’ll use some fancy insurance words on you.

Isaac: I look forward to it.

Me: See you tomorrow.

Isaac: Good night, mama bear.

I set my phone on the nightstand. The temptation to keep talking to him is too strong. I don’t even want to begin thinking about the fact that he’s single now. Or that my daughter is the reason.



“Are you sure you don't want to come with us today?” I ask my dad, whose back is to me. Spatula in hand, he pushes eggs around a pan on the stove.

“I have to work. Besides, you guys should spend some time alone. Just the three of you.”

I make a face. “We're not a family,” I say as I pick a raspberry from the bowl on the table and pop it into my mouth.

He twists at the waist, peering back at me with challenging eyes. “No?” He turns back to his task.