Flutter: The Nash Brothers, Book Three Read online

  “So what? That just means he’ll be hotter than all of our old ass husbands for a long time to come.”

  I hold up a hand. “Can we refrain from the marriage and husband talk right now? You’ve got me considering the dating front, but I’m in no damn rush.”

  Presley pumps her fist. “Yes! I’ve got you considering it. Okay, next unnecessary dilemma. Hit me.”

  “What if he doesn’t want kids?” I spit out, not realizing how much I’d actually been thinking about this recently.

  “Looks to me like he was great with the boys at Eliza’s. And I think Forrest, again, would surprise you with what he’s able to handle.”

  I tap a finger to my chin. “Okay, what if he does want kids? More, I mean. That’s not a possibility for me.”

  She gives me a small smile. “Again, I think Forrest is the most intelligent guy I’ve ever met. He is understanding, under all of that boastful arrogance. I could see it, him adopting your kids as his own, whether that’s legally or not. You guys would make a really cute blended family.”

  My head is spinning with all the love mumbo jumbo she’s filling it with. “Okay, enough for tonight. I can’t be persuaded for much longer, because my kids were terrors today and I need to go pass out. Will you please promise to keep this between us?”

  “Will you please promise to think about what I said?” she counters.

  Seriously thinking for a second, I nod. “Yes.”

  “Then I’ll keep your secret. For now. And Penny … I’m happy for you.”

  By the time I see her out, I’m so tired, I could probably fall asleep on the hardwood in my hallway.

  So it’s funny that I lie awake until two a.m., thinking about what a family with Forrest would look like.

  24

  Penelope

  The next day, as I walk behind my sprinting, playful boys at the park, the last person I expect to run into is Forrest.

  “Forrest!” I hear Matthew shout, my seven-year-old sprinting to grab the Nash brother up in a bear hug that only comes to Forrest’s knees.

  “Hey, dude.” Forrest pats my son’s back, genuinely smiling as all of my boys come up to greet him.

  I lug the large tote bag on my shoulder, carrying all of their snacks, baseball gloves, toys, water bottles and a book I’ll never get time to read. It’s digging into my skin, and when I walk up to the man I know intimately, he takes it from me in an unconscious gesture that shocks me.

  “Hi.” I blink, trying not to notice the very partner-like move he just made.

  “Hey, little dudes!” Fletcher runs up, acting like a kid himself. “Want to play some catch? Forrest and I were just tossing around a bit.”

  I’m treated to shrieks of yes, please and can we?

  “Yes, go ahead,” I relent, kissing them each on the forehead before they sprint off farther into one of Bloomfield Park’s big grassy fields.

  “What do you have in here?” Forrest grumbles, hiking the bag up on his shoulder.

  And then seeming to have a second thought about it, plants it on the ground and sits beside it.

  “The universe,” I joke, taking a seat on the other side of the bag. “Do you always come to the park with your adult twin brother?”

  Forrest’s dark brows furrow in amusement. “Well, when you say it like that, it makes us sound like creeps. When really, we’re only trying to relive our glory days and bean each other in the face with baseballs.”

  I shrug. “Seems like something you would do.”

  “Missed you this week.” He drops this line without looking at me, and once again, we’re in our secret little bubble.

  How can he make me feel like this when we’re only sitting feet apart in a public park with my children and his brother just a short distance from us? My whole body is acutely aware of his arms roped with lean muscle, of the swoop of dark hair falling onto his forehead, of the way his jeans strain on his thighs as he leans his elbows back in the grass. We only saw each other once this week, and even though the agreement was meant to only be a couple times a month, it’s quickly become multiple hookups a week.

  “I couldn’t get away from those rascals. Their schedule is insane.” I missed him too, but don’t want to admit it.

  “I could have come over … cooked dinner or something,” Forrest suggests.

  I’m a little stunned. “You would have? I wasn’t aware you cooked.”

  He nods. “I make a mean pork shoulder. Smoking meat is my specialty.”

  The unintended innuendo makes me crack up. “Surprised is an understatement. Maybe I’ll have you over to smoke some meat one of these days.”

  Now Forrest looks at me, more meaning in his eyes than I intended for this conversation. “I’d really like that.”

  I have to blink and look away because my heart is thumping and my hands are far too warm.

  Watching as Fletcher teaches my boys how to step with their opposite foot and throw with their good arm, a question pops into my head.

  “Do any of your family members know about us?” I ask casually.

  Since Presley paid me a visit last night, I’ve been thinking about broaching this subject. Clearly, she knows, and if she knows, it means that the rest will eventually, no matter what she promised me.

  One look at Forrest’s face and I can tell he knows this isn’t a casual inquiry at all. “Is this some kind of test?”

  I decide to come right out with it. “Presley knows that we’re hooking up.”

  The way his aqua eyes don’t register surprise lets me know he knew this.

  Forrest sighs. “She came over to get something for Keaton the other day and saw the hoodie you left on my couch. I didn’t say anything, but I fucking froze. She probably knew that instant.”

  Now it’s time to tell him my end of being caught. “Yeah, she came to my house and basically accused me of keeping this giant secret from her. I had no choice but to tell her … she was like a turkey vulture picking at my carcass.”

  “My mother and Fletcher know, too,” he blurts out, and now I know more damage has been done.

  My head snaps up, looking at him square in the face. “Jeez, Nash, did you not listen to anything I said throughout the last couple of months?”

  Forrest shrugs. “Apparently, Mom has some kind of sixth sense. And my twin knows me almost as well as he knows himself, so there was no hiding it from him. But he is confident the others don’t know a thing.”

  “Except for Presley, now,” I supply. “What are we going to do?”

  “Do we have to do anything? Who cares if they know?” Forrest begins to search in my bag, coming up with a chocolate chip granola bar for himself.

  Did I care anymore? Was this going to be a thing people knew about? Was this going to be more than … a thing?

  “I guess not,” I say cautiously.

  Forrest opens the granola bar wrapper and bites into the sweet treat. “Good, then it’s settled. We can finally have our first date.”

  “What?” I cry, loudly enough for the boys and Fletcher to look over at us.

  “People know. We have great sex. I want to take you out to dinner. That’s that.” He shrugs as if this is the most logical line of thinking on the planet.

  “Forrest …” I hiss. “That’s not what this is. We just have sex, that’s all. Remember our agreement?”

  I swear, my heart is beating so loud he must be able to hear it across the tote bag. The boys continue playing a struggling game of catch, with the ball dropping every time it gets to Ames, and every other time when it’s thrown to Matthew.

  “Yeah, but now I want to change the rules. How about a night next week? I’ll take you out of town, so at least the gossip machine doesn’t roll on through and spread our business. Actually … aren’t you the gossip machine? So technically, we could stay in town, but—”

  He’s rambling, and I cut him off. “Forrest, we’re not going on a date. And I don’t gossip … much.”

  I’m all jittery, my hands sha
king and my foot tapping a mile a minute. When I feel a hand gently grip my jaw, my body goes into full anxiety mode.

  But sea-blue eyes calm me as the hand turns my head. Forrest has no care in the world that anyone in this park might see him touching me.

  “P, don’t fly off the handle here. It’s a date, just two people going out to eat food. Hell, you don’t even have to be nervous about whether or not we’ll kiss afterward, because I’ve already given you countless orgasms. So, you let me know which night next week is best for you, and I’ll pick you up.”

  All I can do is manage a slight nod, my stomach in knots, my heart fluttering as if I’m a schoolgirl just getting noticed by her crush for the first time.

  25

  Penelope

  “I still have a headache.”

  The girl, a junior who I’d heard was in the midst of a breakup with her boyfriend was currently lying on a cot in my office.

  “Well, you don’t have a fever, and I can’t reach your mother, so you’re going to have to go back to class,” I tell her.

  “Can’t I just lie here another period?” She bites her lip, a worried, sad expression marking her young face.

  I sympathize with her, but my job is to take care of ill students. Or nurse them, no pun intended, through the emotional sicknesses of teenage-hood.

  “I’m afraid not since you don’t seem that sick. But … if there is something you’d like to talk about, we can do that, too.”

  Her green eyes shift, and she reminds me of myself not so long ago.

  The girl, Maisy was the name she’d written on my sign-in sheet, sits up. “I just … I don’t feel like going to next period. And I didn’t want to eat in the cafeteria either.”

  I sit on the cot across from her, putting my elbows on my knees in a relaxed position. “And why is that?”

  She hangs her head, sniffling. “My boyfriend broke up with me.”

  My right hand goes to her shoulder, providing a comforting pat. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

  It was important not to ask too many questions because that’s when the students spooked or lashed out. Let them tell their own story, in their own time. They just want an ear that won’t judge them.

  “He is a jerk!” she bursts, more tears pouring down her face. “He dumped me because he likes one of the girls in my friend group. She said she didn’t mean for it to happen, but how do you do that to a couple who has been dating for four months?”

  A four-month relationship is a lifetime in these halls. “Someone who isn’t your friend. And not everyone will be. But do you know what else this means? That he isn’t the one for you, either.”

  She sniffles and rolls her eyes. “That’s just something people say.”

  Smart girl … she knows how to sniff out bullshit.

  I nod. “It is, but in this case, I mean it. No man worthy of your time would ever leave you, regardless of a crush or not. A good guy, he keeps all his attention on you. And when you meet the right one, you won’t even worry about the stability of your relationship. You’ll know he loves you and only you.”

  A little deeper than I planned to go with a teenage broken heart, but I hope she takes the advice.

  I wish I could tell them that none of this would matter someday. That the lost relationships, the drama, the social anxiety and worrying about who wore what … that it was all just a stepping stone to something greater. That when they became husbands or wives, or parents, that they’d transform into bigger people than the ones fighting over the jock douchebag who Maisey was trying to avoid in the lunch line.

  But making Maisey, and the girls like her, feel heard … that’s my job. Curing their emotional hurts just as much as their physical ones, is also my job.

  Eventually, she does leave the nurse’s office to rejoin the uphill swim to survive high school.

  I’m struck though, hours after she leaves, at how different my life might have been if Travis and I had never fallen in love. If anything had gone differently at any point in my existence, I could be living a completely different life.

  As it was, I was beginning a new chapter that I never envisioned tackling again.

  Dating.

  Specifically, dating Forrest Nash.

  And now that I’m officially back on the dating market, I’m going to have to tell one important person.

  Marion.

  Until I know what this is between Forrest and me, I don’t want to spill the tea to my mother or Lily. They’ll just get up in my business, give me their opinions, want the download after every date or sleepover. I don’t want the headache right now, or the added pressure to a situation I’m not even sure about.

  But I do know that I have to tell Travis’ mother.

  Part of me wants to avoid the conversation altogether; how do you tell the parent of your deceased husband that you’re going out with another man? It’s an impossible position, and not just for her.

  This weight sitting on my chest about my own feelings on the matter clouds everything. Would Travis be okay with this? Am I supposed to find love again, when he’s dead and gone? Should the boys have another man in their lives, when their own father can’t even be here?

  Either way, I know I have to try. Presley was right when she said I deserved to be happy.

  I just knew I had to clear it with Marion first. For my conscience, which was having the anxiety attack of the century here.

  My mother-in-law lets herself in with the key she was given years ago, and both Matthew and Ames scramble up from the couch to give her huge hugs. Travis is upstairs. I just started allowing him open-door laptop time in his room, to afford him some privacy and build trust. It was strange that I’d have a child in the double-digit age bracket soon, and I was kind of panicking about how to deal with it all.

  “Thanks for coming over,” I yell from the kitchen, and a couple of seconds later, Marion walks in.

  As always, she’s in a cardigan set and beige slacks. Marion is the quintessential grandmother, whereas my own mother could show up in a halter top and the boys wouldn’t think it was strange.

  “Oh, no problem, dear. I’m glad to spend time with the boys.” She kisses me on the cheek as I pull a casserole dish from the oven.

  “I made that Mexican lasagna you like, so you won’t have to worry about cooking. And Ames had a bath last night, so don’t worry about that. Travis and Matthew did their homework, and by the way, I’m going on a date.”

  I drop the last line in there hoping that we’ll glide right over it.

  But one look at Marion’s face, and I can tell I’ve almost given her a heart attack.

  “Wha …” She trails off.

  To her credit, my mother-in-law doesn’t look upset, just genuinely surprised.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you when I asked you to come babysit. But, I thought this was a conversation best had in person.”

  We stand in the kitchen, silent and still for a moment, before Marion’s lips tilt up into a bittersweet smile.

  “And that is why Travis loved you. You’re a very honest, genuine person, Penelope,” she compliments me, going to sit in one of the white-washed kitchen chairs around my cedar table.

  I join her, feeling the heaviness of this moment. This is the only other person on earth who loved Travis as much as I did, and tonight is as big of an occasion for me as it is for her.

  She takes my hand in her weathered one. “I knew this day would come, eventually. I have to be honest and tell you that I’ve dreaded it, but now that it’s here, I’m almost a little relieved.”

  Blowing out a breath, I have to look away from her. “I’m not. I’m terrified. And feel guilty. Almost as if I’m betraying him.”

  Marion tuts. “Dear girl, don’t say that. You loved my son fiercely during the years he was alive. You gave him three healthy boys, held down the household while he went to war. They say a soldier makes the greatest sacrifice for his country, but I could argue that a soldier’s wife makes just as big of one.
You did your duty, Penelope. You grieved for far longer than I actually thought you would … and whoever this man is, he must be very special to warrant you taking this leap.”

  I hadn’t thought about it that way, but now that she said it, I guess it was true. I saw Forrest in a different light than I saw other men. Not the same as Travis, but we have that similar kind of spark that intrigued me.

  “Are you mad?” I ask, feeling like a girl who’s just been caught doing something she shouldn’t be.

  Marion looks at me, smiling sadly. “I miss my son. I will always wonder what he would have been like with the boys, now that they’re older. I get sad seeing his family without him, and my heart aches for losing him at such a young age. But mad at you? Never, Penelope. You deserve to be happy, too.”

  The cloud that has been hanging over my features all day clears, but a lump of emotion sticks in my throat. “Thank you, Marion. I couldn’t go without your blessing. And for what it’s worth, I miss all of those things about Travis, too. Can you … can you keep this between us for now? It’s just, it’s new and I don’t want the community of Fawn Hill knowing it’s favorite widow’s dating life.”

  “Of course, who am I going to tell? He would have wanted you to move on, for what it’s worth. Find love. Just … maybe with a little less lipstick.”

  Now I have to chuckle. Always the conservative, my mother-in-law. But at least, with her okay, and a little swipe of a tissue across my mouth, I feel a little better about going out with a man for the first time since my husband died.

  26

  Forrest

  Now I know why I haven’t been on a date in …

  Well, have I ever actually taken a woman on a date?

  I don’t think I ever have, considering my longest relationship was a two-week hookup marathon that ended with the girl throwing a drink in my face at a bar when I was flirting with someone else.