Chapter 29

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Rose

Not wanting to disturb Phillip's adorable nephew while he's doing homework, I grab my bag and pull out my tablet. Adding more intricate details to the set today was a lot of fun but it made me itch to create more of my own work. Now seems as good a time as any to work on another new concept sketch.

The rhythmic tap of Phillip's knife hitting the cutting board and the scratch of Toby's pencil melt into the background as I search my mind for new ideas. My eyes sweep over my surroundings and once again land on the blank space on the wall opposite me to the right of the TV that is practically begging for some artwork. I've thought so since I first saw this room. The half-finished piece sitting on the easel in the corner of my bedroom would look perfect there. I'm in an unusually whimsical headspace thanks to working on a fairytale forest for most of the day and I decide to lean into the feeling. My stylus drifts across the screen, an ethereal-looking woman emerging.

"What's that?" My stylus falls from my fingertips when I jerk in surprise at Toby's question. I've been so engrossed in my work that I didn't notice him approach. He stands on his tiptoes, peering over the back of the sofa at the screen of my tablet, brown eyes alight with curiosity.

"At the moment it's an idea but it's going to be a painting." I turn the screen so he can see better.

"Wow. Your face looks so good," he tells me, admiring the draft on my screen. "We did painting at school today but my faces don't look like that." Toby frowns, walking round the sofa so he can flop down onto the cushion next to me.

"That's OK," I reassure him. "It took me a long time and a lot of practice before my faces started looking like this."

"How'd you practice?" Before I can even begin to answer he continues, barely taking a breath. "My friend Maddie said you're either good at drawing or not. She's good at drawing but not as good as you."

"Natural talent is part of it, sure. Like how some people are naturally better at sports than others, but the same way you can practice tennis to improve your aim, the more you practice drawing, the better you'll be." Toby listens, rapt with attention, so I decide to continue. After taking a beat to save my work, I open a fresh project making sure he can see the screen too. Switching to a pencil-style brush I draw an oval in the middle of the page.

"See this?" Toby nods. "This is the start of our face. Now while you're learning you can draw some guidelines on the face to show you where the features should be. This line is to help keep everything central so you don't accidentally draw the features too far to one side," I explain while drawing a vertical line down the middle. "This line is for the centre of the eyes, this one's for the nose, and this is for the centre of the mouth," I continue, adding three horizontal lines to the image.

"Can I try?"

"Sure, here you go. Don't press too hard, the screen will pick up on a light touch from the stylus," I instruct, clearing the page then handing everything over. Toby draws his own and frowns.

"It's wonky."

"That's alright, just tap the eraser tool up there and you can clear this one away and try again." He does as I instructed, then switches back to the pencil brush. Happier with his next oval he continues and draws in the guidelines. They're a little wobbly but not bad at all for a first try. He looks up at me for approval and I smile encouragingly.

"Good job. Why don't you try adding on the eyes, nose, and mouth?" A look of pure concentration transforms Toby's face, his tongue poking out the corner of his mouth as he gets to work. A couple of minutes later he lifts the screen to show me.

"Nice, now use the rubber to get rid of your guidelines—that's it. Why don't we go and show your uncle." Toby leaps off the sofa, racing ahead to the kitchen. I follow at a more sedate pace, but arrive in time to see Toby give Phillip a beaming smile before launching into a stream of excited chatter.

"Look uncle Phillip, Rose showed me how to make a face!" He thrusts the tablet into Phillip's hands and I laugh.

"That's really good, well done bud. Did you say thank you to Rose?" Toby whips his head around to face me.

"Thank you, Rose!"

"You're very welcome."

"Alright, how about we let Rose put this away then we can get baking?"

Phillip hands the tablet back to me, mouthing a ‘thank you' over Toby's head. Our fingertips brush, sending sparks crackling up my arms and I inhale sharply. I've missed his touch. Things aren't back to normal between us yet, they won't be until we talk it out for real, but the unspoken agreement between us is that we both still want this relationship to work. Phillip's lips twitch into a brief smirk, like he knows exactly what the innocent contact is doing to me, then he turns all his focus back to Toby.

Once I've packed everything away, I make my way back to the kitchen area in time to see Phillip pull a punnet of blueberries from the fridge. Touched he planned to make my favourite muffins, I roll up my sleeves ready to join them both.

An hour-and-a-half later I find myself covered in a light dusting of flour and more sexually frustrated than I ever thought was possible. The flour is thanks to Toby getting a little too vigorous with the sieve, making us all laugh. The frustration was courtesy of Phillip, who decided to make a game out of how many gentle caresses and smouldering looks he could give me without his nephew cottoning on. Phillip's light, teasing touches set me ablaze like nothing else and I'm desperate for some alone time with him. Forget talking it out, I'm ready to say ‘fuck it' and give us both a reminder of how good those touches feel when there aren't any clothes in the way. At least one hunger has been satisfied, thanks to the amazing pasta we've just finished eating.

"Why don't you and Rose go pick out a film?" Phillip suggests, clearing the plates from the dining table.

"I can help with this." I stand, gathering the near-empty salad bowl and tongs.

"You don't have to do that, you're a guest."

"You cooked, it's only fair I help clean up. Toby can pick a film without me right?"

The boy in question watches our back-and-forth bouncing in his chair, eager to go and choose something to watch.

"Sure, off you go, bud."

"Yes!" Toby races off to the living area.

"No running!" Phillip calls out in the exasperated, yet loving, tone only someone who spends a lot of time with kids develops.

I carry the salad stuff over to the kitchen counter, Phillip following closely behind me.

"My mother would have kittens if she knew I was letting you help clean up."

"Oh God, does your mum hate me now?" I grimace, cringing over how I well and truly ruined my first impression on Phillip's family. At least Toby isn't holding it against me but I doubt the adults will be so easily won over.

"Not at all. Mum loves you. In fact, she gave me a right talking-to after you left and told me I had better make things right with you."

"She did?" I ask, incredulous.

"She did. She knows you're the best thing to ever happen to me—so do I." Well then. Clearing my throat, unsure of what to say to that when we still have an audience of one in the form of an impressionable young boy, I turn back to the task at hand.

Phillip clears the plates and packs away leftovers while I fill the sink, ready to start washing up. As I place the first dish on the drying rack, he sidles up next to me, a tea towel slung over his shoulder. It shouldn't be hot, but I find watching this man move around, so in control of his space, beyond attractive. Who knew I had a competency kink? Or maybe it's his confession that's leaving me all flustered. Either way, as wholesome as this evening has been, I'm impatient for Phillip and me to get some alone time.

We work side-by-side in silence, brushing against each other enough for me to know Phillip is edging closer and edging me on purpose.

"Behave." I flick a few soapy bubbles his way in reprimand when his arm brushes mine yet again. Brows raised, he plays innocent.

"What?"

"You know what." I scrub the next dish with a little more force than necessary, irritated that he seems completely unaffected when my self-control is hanging on by a thread. He leans closer, lips brushing against the shell of my ear and I shiver.

"Thank you for staying."

"Thanks for having me," comes my strangled reply. Thank you for having me? I cringe. This isn't a bloody dinner party. It's a sort-of date-slash-reconciliation chaperoned by a nosy six-year-old. Warm breath teases my skin as he softly chuckles against me.

"So polite," he murmurs before pressing a barely-there kiss to my temple. My heart stutters but Phillip simply straightens up and grabs another plate to dry as if he hasn't just made me melt quicker than an ice-cream left out in the sun. I have no idea what time Toby usually goes to bed but I hope the kid has picked a short film. If I have to endure much more of Phillip's teasing, I'll combust.

We make our way through to the living room, Phillip carrying a tray full of drinks and muffins for each of us. Toby waits, sitting in the middle of the sofa, with The Little Mermaid selected on the TV.

"Again?" Phillip asks incredulously.

"Rose might not have seen it. Have you Rose?" Toby twists to look at me with wide eyes.

"I have, but it's been a while. It'll be fun to watch it again."

Phillip winces almost imperceptibly.

"Uncle Phillip knows all the words," Toby tells me, his little chest puffed up with pride. Ah, so he's roped Phillip into watching what must be his favourite film more than a few times. Coughing to cover my chuckle, I take a seat. The flat look Phillip shoots my way tells me I'll pay for that later. We settle in, passing blankets and muffins between us, then Toby eagerly presses play.

A few minutes in, I feel Toby staring at me intently and turn to face him letting him know he's been caught.

"Yes?" I ask, brow raised.

"What colour are your eyes?"

A surprised laugh escapes me. Not sure what I'd been expecting him to say but that wasn't it. "Green, see?" I lean closer so he can see better and he nods.

"How old are you?"

"Tobias, that's not always a polite question buddy," Phillip quietly admonishes.

"Why not?" Toby's head cocks, reminding me of a curious puppy. "People ask on the playground all the time."

"It can be different for grown-ups. Some adults don't like people knowing their age," Phillip explains, pausing the film.

"It's fine, I don't mind." I wave off their concern. "I'm twenty-six."

"What do you do for a living?" Toby asks seriously. Despite starting to feel a bit like I'm at an interview, the question makes me bite back a smile. It's obviously something Toby's heard other adults ask and decided to copy. It always amazes me how much kids pick up on.

"What's with all the questions, bud?" Phillip looks as amused by this as I am.

"Dad said on the phone to you that he wants to know how it goes with your new girlfriend. I want to help but I don't know her, so I have to ask stuff or how am I supposed to tell him anything?"

Giggling at Phillip's stunned expression I try to get myself back under control. Does this mean Phillip talked to his brother about us, more than just letting him know I'd be here at the same time as Toby? Am I his girlfriend? Before Sunday I would have said yes but now I'm realising we never actually discussed it. Seeing as I'm in love with the man, I should probably clear that up.

"I'm not sure if Rose is my girlfriend…" My heart sinks even though the logical part of me understands. "She was, but I made her sad so now it's up to her to decide." Phillip meets my eyes, holding me captive. "You can tell your dad I'm working on convincing her to give me another chance though." Then he winks at me. Winks . I always thought winking was reserved for creepy old guys in bars, turns out I was wrong. Phillip can most definitely pull off a wink and now I'm back to being well and truly flustered.

"Let's keep watching, hmm?" I grab the remote from the coffee table, jabbing the play button before they can argue. Mercifully Toby seems to be done questioning me and we continue watching the film without further interruptions. I can barely handle the cuteness when Toby and Phillip join in, singing the songs with practised ease. This is what family time is supposed to feel like.