Chapter 111
I looked over at him a tad confused. I noticed Cain had turned from the microwave to glance over at him as well. Our eyes locked briefly, before I turned my attention back to Eli.
“Aren’t you happy for them, Eli?” I asked softly, placing my hand over his.
He looked up and painted a smile back on for my benefit. “What? Oh, sure I am. Just a bit jealous maybe. The closer I get to thirty, the more appealing the whole minivan-and-soccer-practice life looks.”
I hadn’t considered that with these men. I mean, they were in love and as committed to one another as anyone could be-married or otherwise. It was natural, I suppose they might have the same dreams as any other couple with respect to raising children.
“Here we go,” Cain said, interrupting my thoughts and the nowsaddened tension in the room as he placed containers of warmed food on the table. “Dig in.”RêAd lat𝙚St chapters at Novel(D)ra/ma.Org Only
Later, as Cain and I finished cleaning up the kitchen, and Eli was taking out the trash, I brought the subject up. I had all but forgotten about the kiss as this new topic moved to the top.
“Do you and Eli want children, Cain?”
He looked over at me, caught off-guard momentarily. He shrugged and gave a small nod.
“Yeah, we’ve looked into it,” he admitted. “You think that’s fucked up, don’t you?”
I shook my head. “No, not really,” I replied. “I guess until I just now saw how Eli reacted to Darcy’s news, I hadn’t really thought about it. I’ve never heard you guys discuss it.”
“Well, you’re not privy to every conversation we have, Paige. You know, we do manage to have private discussions when possible,” he replied, trying to throw some humor into his words. Clearly, it was his polite way of saying, ‘MYOB.’
Cool. No problemo.
I turned to leave the kitchen, and felt his hand on my arm, pulling me around to face him. His eyes were warm and soft now, a hint of remorse lacing his expression.
“Hey, I’m sorry,” he replied gently. “I didn’t mean to snap at you like that. It’s kind of a sore subject, I guess. It’s the one thing we can’t give one another and it’s frustrating as hell. We aren’t on the same page with it, in all honesty.”
“S’alright,” I said with a nod, turning to leave.
“Hey you two,” Eli said, coming into the kitchen. “Want to play some cards or something?”
I gave Eli a kiss on the cheek as I headed out. “I’m exhausted guys, rain check? This chick has a date with a long soak in a tub full of bubbles. Don’t forget-tomorrow we start decorating inside and out.”
I heard their manly grumbles as I retreated down the hallway to my room.
My bubble bath was delicious. I soaked for nearly an hour, and thought about the kiss Cain had given me. Maybe I was making too much of it. Maybe it was just something done without thought. I was inclined to believe that’s all it was.
I mean, we all cared for each other; that was perfectly clear. We were all close, so maybe it didn’t have to mean a damn thing. I wasn’t going to overanalyze it. I probably needed to get out more. I’d kind of become a house frau and it was showing. I hadn’t sworn off men for life, just the users. Maybe I was ready to try my hand at cultivating a real relationship with someone who had potential rather than just anyone with a hard dick.
After my bath, I climbed into my empty bed and pulled out the large plastic bag that contained yarn, knitting needles and the two work-inprogress wool scarves I’d been knitting in secret for a couple of weeks.
I was making a dark teal scarf for Eli; Cain’s was a dark maroon, and I couldn’t help but laugh a bit when it sort of/probably looked an awful lot like something Draco Malfoy would wear. The colors were perfect for each of their palettes.
My Grandmother Townsend (my mom’s mother) had taught me how to knit and crochet one summer when I stayed at her house in Oregon. I was probably eleven or twelve at the time. She lived in the middle of nowhere, so I had been happy to have something to keep me busy.
I had knitted potholders of every color, and crocheted hats for my parents and brother, proudly presenting them as gifts when I arrived back home. Only, I never saw my mother use that first potholder, and of course, the hats hadn’t really been their style I was told.
The following year, my Grandmother Townsend passed away. When my mother returned home after her burial, she brought boxes of yarn, knitting needles, crochet hooks, and patterns with her and gave them to me.
Over the years, I had dabbled here and there with making things. It was a skill that had stuck with me, I suppose, and would serve me well in making Christmas presents for my guys.
I had found earmuffs on sale to go with them. My budget was still fairly tight these days.
I was knitting away, finding the sound of the clicking needles almost soothing. My grandmother had told me that many a problem had found a solution while she knitted. Maybe I’d have a better chance of finding a date if I wasn’t sitting home knitting, I thought to myself with a smile.
I definitely needed to do something before New Year’s Eve, because this girl, as mature and down-to-earth as she was trying to be, wasn’t going to be a fucking wallflower on New Year’s Eve.
There had been a couple of guys at the bureau who worked in Accounting that had been somewhat flirtatious with me, but I’d pretty much been blowing them off.
I promised myself that, after Thanksgiving, I would make a concerted effort to strike up a conversation with one of them. They were both very nice guys, and not the usual bad-boy types I seemed to gravitate towards. That had to be a good sign. I’d start with Kenneth. He had the higher-level position of the two.
I smiled as I continued knitting. Granny Townsend was right. I had definitely worked out a practical plan while knitting, to ensure I was on the right path toward maturity, self-respect and cultivating healthy relationships.