Page 38 of Take The Risk

​“There’s nothing to talk about.” We’d had this conversation.

​“Ugh…yeah, yeah, there is.” Wade opened the fridge and pulled out water bottles, putting them into the large box I was filling with snacks.

​“No.” I gritted my teeth. “There isn’t.”

​“So, we shouldn’t talk about the woman you’re crazy about or her son that you’re equally crazy about and who clearly adores you—crazy kid—and the fact you haven’t done the sane thing and asked her out before she settles in more and the awkward factor hits one hundred?” Wade closed the fridge door.

​“First, I’m not ‘crazy about her,’ as you put it.” I glared at him when he scoffed. “I’m not.” I wasn’t sure exactly what I was. Obsessed? Possessed? Consumed? There wasn’t a single word that could describe the way I felt about Phoebe or how it continued to evolve each day to the point I was now reconsidering my perspective on being a dad. At least to one kid. “As you pointed out, she’s Mom’s friend and a client. That’s the definition of off-limits.”

​“I didn’t say that. I said it was difficult.”

​“Same thing.” None of what Wade said, after finding me staring at a picture of Phoebe I’d secretly taken (yes, creepy, I know) instead of watching the first hockey game of the season with our friends, equaled me making a move. There was also one other little issue I’d been deliberately ignoring, making me think some distance was necessary.

​“Is that why you’re here on a Friday night and why you’ve turned down every woman who has offered to be your stress relief for the last few weeks? Because she’s ‘off-limits’?” Wade dug in his heels, pissing me off.

​Why the hell was he harping on this?

​“I’m too old for a random hookup,” I repeated the excuse I gave him the last time he wanted to risk his life and piss me off. I didn’t admit that lately my dick only seemed to get up for a certain single mother. “Second, this conversation is over. Drop it.”

​Wade held up his hands in surrender. “All right, man. I’ll let you keep being stupid.” I narrowed my eyes on him. “But only after I say this.”

​If it shut him up… “Fine.”

​“I’ve known you all my life. A blind person could see the way you two look at each other. I know you like your life tidy.” I crossed my arms looking at him unimpressed. “It’s true, brother. You hate messy. But I’ve gotten to know her. And from what I’ve seen, she’s a woman worth a little mess.”

​“And if the mess includes her hiding something?” I let out the thing that had been bugging the shit out of me all day.

​“What do you mean?” Wade crossed a leg over the other, leaning back against the counter.

​I didn’t know why I hadn’t seen the pattern earlier. The way she’d get mail and squirrel it away upstairs, careful to make sure no one saw it. The secretive phone calls she had, most of them while I was taking the kids to school. At first, I’d thought what she’d gotten, which was a large package, was from her lawyer. The phone calls, I thought, were about her messy divorce, which was getting messier every day. Jeremy was now going after her, claiming she was “withholding Lock.” In reality, he was violating a court order by having Layla around. I’d heard Phoebe arguing more than once with the douchebag, telling him he could see Lock, just not with Layla present.

​“So? It could still be about her divorce.” I heard the edge in Wade’s voice, though.

​I’d thought that. Then, it got weird. “She got a package last week. I’d brought it in for her, but when she opened it…” It was difficult to describe the look on her face. “It was two books. One was one of those Cursed Bonds books Jesse is obsessed with, and the other looked like one of the romance books Mom and the aunts like to pretend they don’t read.” And I loved to pretend she didn’t, too. I shuddered. “There was a card with the second book, and when she read it, she went white. Her hands shook, and not the finger thing. Like earthquake tremors. When I asked her what was up, she looked terrified and picked up the books, saying she must have gotten them by mistake.”

​“Maybe she did.” Wade was turning it over in his head.

​“Except an hour later, I heard her upstairs on the phone to Alex, who showed up a couple hours later, practically gluing herself to Phoebe’s side.”

​She also didn’t poke at me, fuck with my tools for shits and giggles, or do any of the usual pain-in-the-ass things she took pleasure in doing.

​“That’s definitely odd.” Though he was referring more to Alex than Phoebe.

​“Maybe. Except Phoebe got another package today and locked herself in her office all afternoon. Suddenly, she’s going to stay with Alex, leaving after she’s done here tonight instead of in the morning. She has a court hearing on Tuesday, but until today, she was going to head to the city on Monday.” When she’d been served with the papers from her ex, I’d had to fight the need to drive to Atlanta and pound the bastard. The need to protect her and Lock was a living entity inside me.

​“I still don’t hear anything actionable. Is it weird? Yes. But Phoebe’s skittish.”

​It had bothered me, the way she’d locked herself away upstairs. I’d gone out and picked up another latte—her obsession—and some lunch in the hopes I could lure her out of her office. “I went up to her office.” To feed her and put my eyes on her and make sure she was okay. “When I got close, I could hear her on the phone with someone I’m presuming is Alex. Only I heard her say, ‘someone knows’ and then ‘How did they find out?’ followed by ‘too much exposure.’”

​At that Wade stood up straighter.

​“Tonight, when I picked the kids up, Mom told me Phoebe agreed to bake her cookies for the café for the weekends. But she wanted to alter the contract so she could make them at home, and then just have them delivered. I think she thought I knew, because she talked about some of the health department requirements for the kitchen she wanted me to keep in mind when I start working on it next week.”

​Laying it all out like that felt…wrong.

​Wade rubbed his hand on his jaw. “You know, come to think of it, I’m not sure I know exactly what Phoebe does. I’d say maybe this has to do with her job, but…”

​Fuck, how did I miss that?