Chapter Fifteen
Tuesday
As a tranquil song changes, I roll myself onto my back, raising my legs above my head, my toes touch the floor. Folding my body in half, I clasp my hands behind my back with my shoulder blades squeezed together and lift my ribcage off the floor, to hold Plough pose. Closing my eyes, I stretch and breathe in through my nose and out my mouth, slowly.
Knock, Knock.
Faint thuds sound at my door.
“Lex?” I hear the tiniest and sweetest voice call.
Smiling, I reply. “Good morning Emma, come in.”
The door to my yoga room hesitantly starts to open at a snail’s pace and a sleepy eyed little girl pokes her head around the corner.
“Hi.” She meekly greets, glancing around the room, fixing her stare on the giant Buddha statue.
“He’s called Buddha, he’s the Zen master. Have you ever heard of him?”
Shaking her head, she freezes just inside the door, like she’s afraid to come in any further.
I transition out of my pose and lie flat on the mat. Stretching my arms high above my head, I tug on my muscles, giving them a good pull. Then I roll up into the sitting position and pat the mat beside me, welcoming her into my tranquil space. That nobody else has set foot in since it’s been complete. Not even Roni.
Rubbing her tired eyes, she tiptoes to my side and instead of sitting next to me, she climbs into my lap.
“Morning, Princess.” I instinctively kiss her head.
“Morning.” She snuggles into me, curling into a ball, her legs tucking up under her nightgown. Wrapping my arms around her, I hold her close against my body and chest, allowing some strange instinct to take over. I know it should feel wrong to be doing this, but I need to. It feels — right.
“Did you sleep well?” I quietly ask, slightly rocking my body. I can tell she just woke up; she’s still half a sleep.
Nodding, she yawns. “Yes… I woke up in a pink bedroom with pretty white bedding. It was like a room from one of the fairy-tale books my grandpa reads to me.”
Awe! I knew she’d love that room. I’m not a huge fan of pink— but for whatever reason a few years back, I went through a pink phase and decided to turn that room into a princess room of sorts. With mauvish pink walls, a queen sized four post white canopy bed and a few white and pink vintage floral furniture pieces. I never slept in there before, but I like the way it looks. Never had a guest crash in there, yet, until last night, that is. I also have a man’s room too. It’s like I have a theme bedroomed house. Strange… I know. It is what it is, and now I’m glad it’s that way.
Last night’s fiasco of me crying on Gage’s shoulder was embarrassing. He stayed and cared for me until I’d stopped. Afterward, he didn’t ask what was wrong, or why I cried. I’m certain he might think it has something to do with him, not one hundred percent sure though. Dismissing myself from the kitchen as he began to dress himself, I went into the living room to gather my wits and calm down. Every single part of me was on high alert. Once he’d dressed, I tailed him as he carried Emma upstairs, into the princess room and then I showed him to his own. I felt a twinge of guilt when he thanked me and retired for the evening. I didn’t want him sleeping alone. Truthfully, I wanted him sleeping in bed next to me. No matter how crazy that notion may be, it’s what my heart kept telling me once I crawled into my own bed, alone.
Knowing he was just across the hall. I stared at my ceiling for what felt like hours, replaying over and over what had happened since Gage has entered my life. Not sure how I never met him before the date with Corey, but I hadn’t. Maybe he didn’t spend much time in Heartfair when he was married. I haven’t the slightest clue. I just know that since he’s entered my life, my emotions are a bucket of mush, and swimming through them is impossible to navigate. One moment, I don’t like him. The next, I think I might be falling in love with him. I’m sure it has a lot to do with the fact his daughter is the most spectacular little girl, and he’s a wonderful dad. Another reason might have a little do with his looks. As shallow as it may seem, he is hot. Scorching, fiery, melt my panties; take me to bed, kind of delicious.
Hopelessly, I’ve drooled over David Boreanaz since I was a teenager and Robert Downy Jr. for almost as long. The thing they both have in common with each other and with Gage as well, is they all enhance a suit. Sexy just isn’t sexy, without a man filling out a suit so scrumptiously you literally become tongue-tied. Gage in a suit does that to me. It’s hard not to like or possibly be falling for someone who carries himself that way. And the tattoos make it all sexier. Never been a fan of tattoos before. Now I am.