Page 30 of Falling for the Unexpected

“We’re friends,” I told her, glancing around the playground.

“You two dated, huh?”

That question threw me. Since I took Simone on as my client, we’ve had face-to-face visits on an almost weekly basis and had each other’s full contact info. We’d texted quite often—not all business-related, sure, but we’ve kept our conversations… safe. What details we’d learned about each other was volunteered, not asked.

She’s never really asked anythingpersonaldirectly. Until now. We were still at that awkward phase of getting to know one another on a more intimate level so there was a lot of hesitation that we both felt and hadn’t fully discussed head-on. I didn’t want to push her by being too invasive and I think she felt the same, though I hoped that wouldn’t always be the case. The complications of our pasts certainly didn’t help, but I genuinely liked Simone and admired her inner strength. And I liked the fact she felt comfortable enough to ask me anything that was on her mind, personal or not.

“A little,” I admitted, “but we were better suited as colleagues.”

“Oh.”

That one little word made me frown. What did that mean? And her expression and tone of voice alerted me that something was off. That I’d said the wrong thing. When she removed her hand and sat back, I immediately felt a distance from her that I didn’t like at all. “Is something—”

“Well, thank you for the recommendation,” she interrupted softly. Her hands were in her lap, fingers fidgeting with the soft-looking fabric of her dress.

I stared at her profile, my eyes traveling to her mouth, the curve of her cheek and jaw, then lower, down her throat, the rise and fall of her chest… She was wearing a low-cut spring dress that hugged her body, and since I first saw her at the apartment two hours ago, it had left my mind racing with inappropriate thoughts. I forced my gaze off her entirely and shifted uneasily in my seat. I was in a plain white tee and jeans, but I felt like I was wearing more based on how I was starting to sweat.

“Sure, no problem. So, ah… did you have any other questions about the MSA?” I started, clearing my throat. Talking about work helped me keep my thoughts clean.

Just then, an older couple approached our bench. “You mind?” the older man asked, a little red in the face. “Wifey’s a little winded from the grandkids and this bench is closest for us to keep an eye on ‘em.”

“Oh! Yes, please, sit,” Simone urged. She scooted toward me. I lifted my right arm and settled it along the back of the bench. I’d already been sitting near the edge but the other couple took up a lot of space. Simone was pressed into my body like she’d been glued there.

I wasn’t complaining that her hand was now on my thigh to help her balance, and it was damn near killing me. I settled my messenger bag in my lap so I didn’t have someone calling the cops on me.

“I’m Kurt and this is Cindy.” The gentleman introduced himself and his wife as we did the same.

“Which ones are yours?” Simone asked.

Kurt pointed to three boys, the oldest not looking more than ten years old. “Got the grandbabies for the weekend,” he said with pride, using his pageboy hat to fan himself.

His wife smiled on. She didn’t look remotely winded but glanced at the two of us with a twinkle in her eyes. “Which one is yours?” she repeated back.

Simone tensed slightly but I answered first. I pointed to the sandbox. “Stella. She’s in the white hat and blue dress.”

Kurt and Cindy ‘oohed and awed’ appropriately and it made me chuckle a little. Just then Stella had joined in a game of tag and appeared to be having a blast. We all laughed when the other toddlers started chasing her while giggling and shrieking.

“So precious…” Cindy said on a sigh and looked between Simone and me. “Your daughter is beautiful.”

“Thank you,” Simone murmured.

“Wish I could say I had something to do with that, but it was all Simone here,” I told the older couple.

Simone looked up at me, a questioning expression on her face as I looked down at her.

“You okay, sweetheart?” I asked, winking at her. My fingers played with the ends of her long hair.

“Uh-huh,” she said, sounding a little winded herself. “You?”

I smiled. “Couldn’t be better…”

*****

On our way back to Simone’s apartment, Stella asleep in her stroller, we were both quiet, contemplative, and in our own heads. I was looking at my phone, reviewing the pictures of me and Simone, Simone and Stella, me and Stella—all of which made me grin like an idiot.

When she bumped her shoulder into my left arm, I looked over and smiled. “What’s got you smiling like that?” she asked lightly. “A hot date or something?”

I laughed and reached out, placing my hand on the back of her neck and squeezing it gently. I liked how she relaxed into my touch now and no longer tensed. I didn’t keep my hand there too long, though. “Dating… not really. At least, not lately,” I started, dropping my hand but letting my fingertips trail the spot between her shoulder blades.