She beamed and got down from the chair with Rachel’s help. Rachel helped her take off the apron and handed her the sandwich on a plate. As I held the kitchen door for my daughter, Sadie marched through it and said, “Order up!” We all burst out laughing, even Sadie.
I asked the cook to make me a grilled cheese and an order of fries, and I joined Sadie for an early supper at our booth. I busied myself picking up her crayons and stuff while she told me about her day and gobbled her sandwich down. Business had picked up by the time we left, and I waved at Rachel who had her hands full.
“See you tomorrow,” I said, and took Sadie home.
I couldn’t stop thinking about Rachel, about the way she was with Sadie when I saw them together. It had been so beautiful, and it had been the tipping point on my feelings for Rachel, the ones that I couldn’t even pretend to deny any longer.
When she arrived for the day, I told her that I had a call from Edie Sharpe, Macy’s mom, and Sadie was going to their house for a play date at noon.
“If you can drop her off there, I’ll pick her up after work. You can have the afternoon off. I know you need it. You’ve been working so hard.”
“Thanks. I’ll take her right after we eat.”
“That’s okay, Macy’s mom said they’re making their own pizzas or something.”
“Okay. I can pick her up if you need me to and stay with her till you get home.”
“No, it’s fine. Edie said they’d be glad to have her till after five. They’ve got a new trampoline apparently. Sadie’s excited.”
“I’m glad,” she said.
I nodded. “Have a good day,” I said, when what I wanted to do was kiss her cheek instinctively.
My day was busy, and I took a new order from Noah for an add-on he was doing for a vacation home by the lake outside Overton. I knew I had a couple of the specialty items he needed in my shed at home, so on my lunch break I drove home. When I pulled in the drive, I saw Rachel’s car was still there. I wondered if Sadie had gotten sick and stayed home from the play date or something, because it was after one o’clock.
When I walked in the cabin, I called out, “Rachel? Everything okay?”
She came out of the laundry room with a basket of towels. “Yeah, it’s fine. I just came back after I dropped Sadie off so I could do a load. We made a big mess painting this morning and I didn’t want you or the cleaning lady to have to deal with it.” She put down the basket and took out Sadie’s t-shirt from this morning and checked it. “See, it all came out. If I’d left it set till your housekeeper comes, it would’ve stained the mermaid shirt. And you know how important the mermaid shirt is.”
“Thanks for doing that. I just came to pick up some stuff from the shed that Noah needs for a job. I can fold those later. You can—” I stopped talking.
Rachel was looking at me, and I saw everything. The mix of happiness and embarrassment at my finding her here alone, the curiosity and mischief and affection. The spark of attraction in her eyes. I reached over and took a towel from her, tossed it on the couch. Then I put my hand on her face.
“I was wrong when I said we shouldn’t see each other. I was wrong to think that I could go the rest of my life and never touch you again, never kiss you, never tell you how goddamn beautiful you are when you fold laundry.”
“I know. Laundry is some hot girl shit,” she said and laughed.
“Come here,” I said. She stepped toward me. I kissed her, licked her upper lip, slid my tongue in her mouth, and swallowed her sigh when I did it.
My hands were under her t-shirt on her smooth skin, and she slid her palms down my back to the curve of my ass and squeezed. We were sure and confident in our touches, our kisses, my hands stripping off her shorts while she worked on my jeans. I tugged off my sweaty work shirt and she ran her hands over my abs, slid her fingers just inside my boxer briefs. I shuddered at the sensation. This was moving fast, and I wanted it to move even faster. I nipped at her neck the way she liked, and Rachel arched toward me.
21
Rachel
One minute I’m folding laundry. The next minute, Max has me bent over the arm of the couch, his fingers between my legs. I writhed and pushed back against his questing fingers, wanting more.