No One Else (The Ladies Who Brunch 2)

“So what do you think, Oliver? What should we put on the tray to take outside for lunch?”

“Sour gummy worms and olives!”

Amelia laughs and begins filling up the small bowls she placed on the large wooden cutting board. “Okay, those are two of my favorites too, but we need some vegetables as well.”

“I don’t like vegetables.”

“Not even with ranch dressing?”

“I like carrots and ranch.”

Amelia nods. “I’ll tell you a little secret, Oliver.” She kneels down to whisper in his ear. “That’s the only way I’ll eat them too.”

His eyes go wide. “Really?”

“Yup. I don’t like carrots by themselves, but with ranch, I can eat them all day.”

“Then we need to have ranch for the carrots,” he agrees with a bob of his head.

“I think so too.”

I watch Amelia offer up so many choices to my kid that I wonder if she cleared out the deli and snack aisles at the grocery store just to appease him. But watching her and Oliver together makes my chest do that funny twinge again. Having someone who makes me feel alive and accepts my son is filling a void in my chest I didn’t realize was empty until I started watching the two of them interact, and it gets better each time.

Before we came in for lunch, Amelia was playing with Oliver in the pool. She was trying to teach him how to do a flip underwater, which I didn’t mind at all every time her ass peeked out from under the surface as she spun. Oliver was growing restless when he couldn’t get it, so she switched to throwing diving rings into the shallow end of the pool so he could retrieve them while wearing his goggles, working on holding his breath underwater.

She’s a natural with him, and it has me daydreaming of all of the things the three of us could do together, experiences to share, and memories to make as this thing progresses between us. But deep down, I know there’s a limit to how far I can let it go.

“Okay, I think we have a good combination of everything, so let’s go sit under the shade and eat, then we can swim some more.”

“Okay!” Oliver races out to the patio table under her gondola as I take the tray from her hands.

“I’ve got it.”

“Thank you. I’m just going to use the bathroom really quick, and then I’ll be right out.”

“See you out there.” I head over to Oliver, who is sipping on his second glass of lemonade. “After that one, you’re drinking water for the rest of the day.”

“Okay, Daddy.”

“Are you having fun, buddy?” I ask him as I take my seat.

“So much fun! I like Amelia. She has a pool and gnomes and makes yummy lunches for us that have sour gummy worms.”

I laugh at how black and white my kid can be. Oh, to be that age again where all you can see are the rights and wrongs, the things you like and the things you don’t.

“Yeah, that’s not something I would offer you, that’s for sure.”

“Nope.” He sticks a worm in his mouth and rips it in half with his teeth. “But she also makes you smile and less grumpy, so I like her for that reason too.”

“Is that so?”

He nods. “You kiss her too, and Grandma says that when grown-ups like each other, they kiss sometimes. And I’m okay with it, just so you know.”

“You’re okay with it?”

“Yup. Grandma said I should tell you that too so we can keep being friends with her.”

Jesus, Mom…really?

“But she said I can’t kiss Harper yet because we’re too little, and I think kissing sounds gross even though I know that’s what you’re supposed to do when you like someone.”Running a hand down my face, I make a mental note to talk to my mother the next time I see her about the things she’s telling my son.

“How is lunch?” Amelia asks as she walks back out to us with her cover-up back on over her suit. And at that moment, I realize that everything I feel toward her is the complete opposite of black and white—it’s actually quite gray.

I value her friendship and company, but I also love the way she tastes and the sounds she makes when I’m buried inside of her. She’s honest and hardworking but also has a vulnerable side to her when it comes to her work. She’s thoughtful, beautiful, and funny, and she makes me want to be a saint—the type of man that she deserves who knows what he has when he has her—even though sinning with her is incredible too. She’s the type of woman you look for in a wife but I’ve been down that road and know I don’t want to do it again.

The further this thing between us gets, the more I realize I need to be upfront with her about where my heart lies. I want her in my life and Oliver’s; that much is becoming crystal clear. But is that enough for her? And do I say something now so she’s aware? Or do I wait because I’m afraid of what she might say when I tell her how I feel about her and a possible future with her, a future I didn’t think I’d ever have to contemplate again?

“What are we trying first, Oliver?” She takes her seat between the two of us, peering over at my son.

“I already had a sour gummy worm, but now I want a pepperoni,” he answers as he reaches forward and grabs a slice from the board.

“Good choice. I’m going to have pepperoni too, but I’m going to make a cracker sandwich with mine.” She grabs the meat, a slice of mozzarella cheese, an olive, and a cracker, stacking them together before she takes a bite.

“I wanna try that!”

“Here, I’ll help you. Why don’t you come sit on my lap?”

“But I don’t want to squish your Veronica.”

I lean forward because I’m not sure I just heard my son correctly. “What did you say, Oliver?”

“If I sit on Amelia’s lap, I’m gonna squish her Veronica.”

Amelia snorts, turning her head to the side in laughter. But my mouth just drops open. “Her Veronica?”

“Yeah. You know…” He points between his legs.

I’m done.

“Where did you hear that?”

“From Harper. She said she has a Veronica, and I have a Peter.”

“Oh my God,” Amelia breathes out, shaking from her giggles. And I’m not going to lie, it’s getting harder to keep a straight face as this conversation goes on.

“But you said I have a penis, Daddy, so it made me kind of confused.”

I run a hand down my face. “Yeah, you and me both, kid.”

Amelia finally chimes in once her laughter is under control. “It’s okay, Oliver. You don’t have to sit on my lap. I can just help you make a cracker sandwich from here.” She winks in my direction and then directs my son to gather his ingredients, giving me a chance to process the conversation that just took place.

We spend the next fifteen minutes trying different combinations of foods, and Amelia even gets my kid to eat carrots and ranch dressing more than once.

“Can I have more sour gummy worms now?” Oliver asks, practically salivating.

“A few.”