There’s only so much punishment I can inflict on myself.
“I’m sorry.” The low, velvet-and-gravel rumble of his apology strokes over me, like fingertips dragging down skin. Caressing me. Marking me. “And thank you.”
I blink. Now it’s my turn to be surprised. Hell, shocked. It’s not the first apology he’s given me. But it’s the first one coupled with gratitude. The first one directed toward me but not about me.
“You’re welcome,” I whisper.
Another silence falls over us, and I can’t stop looking into those beautiful eyes. And when his gaze dips to my mouth, I can’t stop thinking how I want him to take it again. Own it again.
Fuck it again.
“Uncle Asa!”
We both jerk hard, stumbling away a couple of steps as Rose’s voice reaches us seconds before she launches her petite body at Asa. She does it with all the exuberance and trust of someone who knows she will be caught. And he does catch her. Asa’s arms wrap around her, swinging her up for a big hug before lowering her back to the ground.
A pang of envy reverberates in my chest, and I’m disgusted by it, by me. Yet, I can’t deny that I’ve never had that kind of complete faith in someone other than my mother. Even with Jessie. As much as I’d loved him, he hadn’t been my soft place to land. Maybe because I’d lost the one person who’d been that for me… Maybe because of his career that took him away from me so often… Maybe because I’d just been scared… Whatever the reason, I hadn’t fully trusted him with the confidence and utter abandon that Rose displayed.
Did Jessie sense that? Was that part of the reason he cheated? Because I didn’t give him all of me?
The questions blasted through my mind in rapid-fire succession. A part of me automatically rebelled, yelling a firm, “Hell no.” But the other half…
“Hey.” Asa’s rumbled murmur yanks me from my spiraling free-fall of self-introspection. He studies me through slightly narrowed eyes. “You okay?”
Forcing a smile, I shake off the unnerving thought that maybe I’m not as healed as I believed. “Of course,” I reply, and switch my attention to Rose and away from that too-perceptive-for-my-comfort gaze. “How was your day, Rose?”
Her face pulls into a moue of profound disgust that only little girls can manage. “Booooring. I’m never going back to in-school ‘spension again. Or at least not by myself. I think it’d be more fun if I had a friend with me,” she adds with a decisive nod.
I lock my jaw so the bark of laughter pressing at my throat doesn’t escape. I mean, technically, she’s not wrong…
“I think you’re missing the point of in-school suspension,” Asa drawls, tugging on her puffy ponytail. “It’s not supposed to be fun. So how about we just go ahead with never going back?”
“Okay,” she mumbles. But in the next instant, her face brightened, and she tipped her head back to beam up at her uncle. “It’s Pizza Night! And it’s my turn to pick what goes on it!”
“That’s right.” Is it my imagination or did he just pale a little? “But remember, last time it was your turn we agreed anchovies and pineapple don’t go together.”
Ohhh. That explains the queasy expression.
This time I don’t smother my snicker.
Asa arches an eyebrow. “I don’t care. Go ‘head and judge. That shit was worse than the time Jessie decided to try out his mother’s meatloaf recipe.”
I recoil, instinctively splaying my fingers over my lurching stomach, the memory of that culinary tragedy still having the power to make me cringe after all these years. Jessie had decided to add ingredients to his mom’s already perfect meatloaf to give it some “pizazz.” Ketchup is pizazz. Not ketchup, relish, mustard, sauerkraut, horseradish and mozzarella cheese. As the good girlfriend, I’d eaten it. Not that it’d stayed down long.
“God, no,” I object. “Nothing is as bad as that mess. Chemical waste served up with a side of anthrax isn’t as bad as that meatloaf.”
“Then I suggest you don’t order a large pizza with pineapple, onions, goat cheese, and extra anchovies.” He shudders, his thick lashes sweeping down to briefly conceal his eyes. “Promise you, I learned my lesson. That’s the last time I ever tell her she can order whatever she wants.”
“It looked so pretty though,” Rose pipes up, grinning. “Uncle Asa says he now has veto power. India—I mean, Ms. Roberts! Why can’t you come over for Pizza Night?” Before giving me the chance to turn down the offer, she swings her attention back to Asa. “Please? Can she come for Pizza Night?” Her gaze ricochets back to me. “I’ll even order what you want and won’t complain. Well, I won’t say it to you. Pleeeaaase.”
Well shit.
Those wide gray eyes are unfair and sneaky weapons of mass destruction. As is the wheedling note in her voice. But, as much as I hate to disappoint her, I can’t. Spend an evening with Asa? We can’t even get along on school grounds with plenty of witnesses around us. Being alone with him? Yeah, no.
Besides, when I returned here, one of my resolutions was to keep my distance from everything and everyone in my past. Start as fresh as possible without any baggage. Asa is the very definition of baggage.
“Rose, thank you for the invitation. But I’m sure your uncle was looking forward to just the two of you—”
“I don’t mind,” Asa interrupts my excuse.