I blinked. Then I stared. Then I asked, “Pardon?”
His head dipped closer to me. “I don’t know what’s gonna work with you, sweetheart, so I’m tryin’ this first and we’ll see. I need to switch things up…” he trailed off and I kept staring.
It was then I decided to share, “I like calm and to have peace of mind.”
“Kiss that good-bye,” Mitch advised.
Not a good answer.
“Um…” I mumbled, trying to pull away and failing. In fact, Mitch’s arms brought me closer and his face dipped even nearer.
“Now, before I take you home, I need you to explain something.”
“And I need another glass of wine,” I retorted with the God’s honest truth.
“I’ll get you one at home. Now you need to explain something.”
“No, I really think I need a glass of wine, like, ten minutes ago.”
Mitch was not to be denied. “Why did you leave me in bed with Billie?”
This threw me. It also, for some reason, scared me. And it scared me because that was a couple of days ago, he’d made it relatively clear he wasn’t happy I’d done it then but him asking about it again made it clear he really wasn’t happy I’d done it.
My voice was quiet and even small when I reminded him, “I already apologized for that.”
“I know you did and I told you it was okay. Now I want to know why you did it.”
Confusion edged into my fear and my head tipped to the side. “Why?”
“Why do I want to know?”
“Yeah.”
“I just do.”
I bit my lip and realized that suddenly everything that was me needed to be certain that I answered his question in the way he needed it to be answered. And that made me even more scared.
Then I decided to tell him, “I didn’t think it was the wrong thing to do.”
“Why?”
“Why?”
“Yes, why?”
“I… because I didn’t think it was wrong.”
“She’s six, I’m a grown man. I’ve known her less than a month. You don’t leave a grown man alone in bed wrapped around a six year old.”
Oh God. I’d not only done something wrong, the way he explained it made it sound like I’d really done something wrong. In fact, I’d done something revolting.
“You got her Tylenol,” I blurted my defense on a whisper.
Mitch’s brows drew together. “What?”
“You got her Tylenol,” I repeated.
One of his hands slid up the skin of my back to sift into my hair as he murmured, “Mara –”
“We were,” I hurried on, “making out. On the couch. We’d been talking. Before that, you asked me if she was down, like, I don’t know, you were her Dad or something. Then she came out and threw up. And it was… I was scared. I didn’t know what to do and parents…” I shook my head, feeling stupid, feeling exposed and looked away then looked back to him because I couldn’t give up. I had to explain because it was important. “Parents when they’re starting out, they don’t know what to do. And you found out what to do and did it. You went to the drugstore, like any Dad would do. Not like Bill would do. If Billie was puking, Billy would probably take care of her. Bill would… Bill might not even be there but he probably wouldn’t even wake up. But you went to the drugstore. Then you stayed with us. And she was shivering so hard and she didn’t want you to go. She wanted you there. And it was just… we were just… I forgot who we were and I thought, I thought…” I shook my head again, closed my eyes tight, pressed my lips together, opened my eyes and whispered, “I thought she’d never had a good Dad and I’ve never even had a Dad but I thought… if you had a Dad and you got sick, the best place to be was pressed close to your Dad and he’d make you feel better.” I pulled in a breath, dropped my eyes from the intensity of his and looked at his throat. “I didn’t leave her in bed with Mitch. I left her in bed with the man who took care of her when she was sick. I didn’t think it was wrong. I never considered it was wrong. I actually thought,” I pulled in another breath and my voice dropped lower when I admitted, “I actually thought it was beautiful.”
His hand cupped the back of my head and he pressed my face into his throat. Tears filled my eyes and my fingers clenched into his shirt.
God, I wasn’t only a Two Point Five, I was an idiot. Why did he even want that deal he made me agree to at dinner? Why? It didn’t make sense.
“I’m sorry I made you uncomfortable. I didn’t even think,” I told his throat.