Our Finest Hour (The Time #1)(56)

A faraway yell pierces the thick, lusty kitchen air.

Everything pauses. My jeans, halfway down my hips, the peek of lavender lace, the rush of blood.

Isaac helps me up, then off the counter.

“I—” My hand comes to rest on his shoulder.

"It's OK. Go check on her." He adjusts himself through his shorts and clears his throat with a shallow, embarrassed sound.

When I reach Claire, she's already fallen back to sleep. Her rhythmic breath is deep, her lower lip slack. I lean in close to her face, feel the short stream of warm air touch my cheek, then back away so I don't disturb her.

I could go back out there. We could pick up where we left off.

The wall holds my weight as I sag against it. My heart thunders in my chest. I'm not sure if the adrenaline is from what I was doing with Isaac or from hurrying to Claire.

Either way, the spell has been broken.

I lie down beside Claire, careful not to jostle her casted arm. Streams of moonlight give off enough light that after a few moments of my eyes adjusting, I can see her profile. Her pert nose. Eyes the same color and shape as her father's.

Tears stream sideways into the pillow, and an ache starts behind my forehead. I don't know why I'm crying. It happens sometimes when I spend too long staring at my daughter. Maybe I should see a therapist again.

Or maybe I should go back out there and let Isaac be my therapy.

Instead, I close my eyes.

It’s good things didn't go any further tonight. This is one relationship I can't afford to fuck up.





Last night...

I roll over and close my eyes. I don't want to be awake yet. I want to envision what could have happened if Claire hadn’t yelled out. If Aubrey hadn’t fallen asleep in Claire’s bed.

She was relaxed. Her walls were down. She was sweet and sensual. She wanted me.

I love seeing her like that. It's a welcome change from her usual front of self-possession.

She'll blame it on the tequila. I know she will. It’s an easy target.

The sunlight peeks in through my curtains, and one of Aubrey's hairs shines on my sheets. It must have hitched a ride on my shirt, because she sure as hell wasn’t in my bed. I pick it up, let it dangle from my fingertips before I drop it onto the floor. Outside my door I hear a giggle, then a shushing sound.

It's Saturday, but that means nothing to me. I don't sleep in. I throw back my covers and stand, ignoring the strain against the front of my shorts, and go turn on the shower.

When I get out, I feel more prepared for the day. Less affected by thoughts of last night.

“Hey girls," I say when I walk out to the living room. Claire's seated on the couch, her legs criss-crossed. Aubrey sits beside her, a book open between them.

“Hello," Aubrey says stiffly, briefly meeting my eyes. She looks back down to Claire's book, picking up where she left off.

She may have only looked at me for half a second, but I saw everything in her eyes. Regret, embarrassment, unease.

“Daddy, did you know sea scallops have one hundred eyes?" Claire blinks up at me. Aubrey's words trail off as Claire stops paying attention to the book. She tosses it on the empty couch cushion and gets up, walking to the kitchen. Even from ten feet away I can see the tension in her shoulders.

“I didn't know that." I smile down at the top of Claire's head. “Is your mom reading to you about sea scallops?" I head for the kitchen to get my dose of morning caffeine.

“Nope. My teacher told us yesterday at school." Claire's on my heels, carrying her book. I pick her up and swing her onto the counter. She sets the book beside her in exactly the same spot Aubrey was last night.

“Don't move a muscle," I tell Claire. I walk a few feet away to pour my coffee. Aubrey comes to stand by her, poking Claire on the nose as she leans against the counter. Claire giggles and Aubrey winks at her.

“What do you two want to do today?" I sip my coffee.

Aubrey tries to look everywhere but into my eyes. Finally she has no choice and has to look at me. Her cheeks color. She clears her throat. “I thought we'd visit my dad." She takes a strand of Claire's hair between her fingers and twists gently. “What do you say, Claire Bear? Do you want to see Grandpa?"

Claire nods her head vigorously. “I haven't seen him in ten years." Her eyes are wide, her voice somber.

I smash my lips together to keep from laughing.

Aubrey grins and points a thumb at Claire. “The exaggeration is strong with this one."

I laugh while I take the makings for French toast out of the fridge. “Am I allowed to tag along? I wouldn't mind seeing John." The guy fascinates me.

I pull back from the fridge in time to see the uncomfortable look is back on Aubrey's face. “I guess,” she says.

“I guess?" I ask, dumping the ingredients on the counter and eyeing her.

“Sure." She shrugs.

“You can say no." I crack two eggs into a pie pan. Instead of looking at her I whisk the eggs. It's obvious she doesn't like to be put on the spot.

“It's OK, Isaac. You can come.” She glances at me as soon as the words are out of her mouth.

I’ve caught the double entendre, and I'm guessing she wishes I hadn't. She flushes, and I can't help my smirk.