12. Lexi

Ishouldn't involve myself. I shouldn't even be here. I most definitely need to tamp down my free spirit that seems to want to explore situations that I've never been in.

Still, I'm standing behind Holden with a polite smile coating my face for a man across the table as old as my dad, and Lori and Harry are staring at me peculiarly from around the circular table. But when Holden offers me a faint smile, a mixture of surprise and gratitude, then I know why I'm here. He didn't ask outright, but I could sense that this night might be better for him if I was here. Such a crazy impression considering whatever we're doing.

"Lexi." Holden stands, ready to offer introductions. "John, this is Lexi, our interior designer at the Dizzy Duck. I thought she would be a useful addition to the discussion and your ideas." Holden pulls the chair between him and Harry out like a gentleman, multi-tasking while indicating to the waiter for an extra wine glass for me. Holden and John already opened a bottle and are halfway through a glass of white.

"It's so nice to have you join us. I can't wait to see the end result at the Dizzy Duck. I hear there will be a big grand opening. Holden did share some preliminary photos, and I enjoy what I see." John seems pleasant. I could imagine Lori and Harry wouldn't find him riveting, but these days some folks just brush off any extras to the conversation in favor to talk purely business.

"I'm sure you must be excited for the prospect of another inn. Will it have a spa too?" I attempt to insert myself into the conversation, but really, I am interested too.

Holden's eyes find their way back to me. "No spa, but he mentioned a pool. He wants it to be more family friendly."

"You should have human-sized Jenga blocks," Harry pipes up.

"As opposed to alien-sized blocks? We're all human," Lori snipes.

Holden smiles nervously. "I think what Harry means is large, outside-sized blocks," he attempts, to defuse his kids' bickering.

John chuckles. "That's a great idea, Harry. This is why I wanted you here. I have a lot of grandkids, but they all live out in Colorado."

"Well, wonderful kids are here," Holden gushes. He has hard times with them, but he also relishes every moment he's in. That's the balance of fatherhood, right?

My wine glass arrives, and Holden pours from the bottle. I take a sip, noting to pace myself, since I drove here. "Don't let my arrival disrupt wherever you were discussing," I say. I use taking a sip of my drink as a cover for the fact that there are fingers swirling over my thigh under the table—fingers that aren't mine. A pleasurable ache spreads down my skin.

"We should talk about timelines of what you're thinking," Holden suggests to John.

"I'll be back, going to the bathroom," Lori excuses herself, and nobody takes much notice.

I wink at Harry who picks at his bread roll out of boredom. Grabbing the basket next to him, I offer him one more, but he shakes his head to decline. More for me, I'm a little famished. I search for the butter because who wants a bread roll without it?

"A year and half could maybe be realistic, depending on the construction," Holden discusses, and I clearly missed part of the conversation.

"Are you building from the ground up?" I wonder, as that's quite a project.

John shakes his head. "Oh no, dear, I'm on the search for a historical property. It will probably need a lot of renovations."

My whole body lights up. "Historical buildings are the best for charm. But you mentioned family friendly, which means you would for sure need to be cautious of interior choices."

"No candles in bedrooms," Holden volleys.

My sight whips in his direction, and a mischievous smile ghosts on his face, with his eyes narrowing on me, almost a message to prepare myself for being devoured or spanked later.

They continue their conversation, and after a few more minutes, I notice that Lori has been gone a while. Probably made an escape. Still, I should probably check, as John and Holden seem to be lost in numbers.

I quietly excuse myself and make my way to the restroom. When I open the door, it's quiet, too quiet considering I didn't come across Lori on my travels here. Walking in, I check the lock signs by the knobs of the stalls and see all are open except one. Bending over, I see Lori's shoes and hear a sniffle.

Oh no. Tears. I don't do well with tears. It makes me either cry like a waterfall or become dry as an alligator. There is no middle ground. It always depends on the person.

I bring my knuckles to the door. "Knock, knock, the houseguest I haven't figured out if you like or hate is here," I announce.

"Go away," she says, her voice muffled.

My face screws up, aware that I'm going to have to reach her chip by chip. "No can do. The table conversation is kind of boring, and you seem to have found a great hiding place."

"It's a toilet," she deadpans.

Well, her mood is still the same. That's a start.

"I might as well freshen up my makeup. Want some lipstick?" I offer and meander to the mirror to color my lips.

"Your lipstick doesn't match my dress."

I twist up the stick. "Good point. I ordered the chicken Alfredo. You ordered before I got here. Did you order that or go for the chicken breast with potato?"

"Go away." Her voice is even more disgruntled.

"Not a good idea if I do. Otherwise, I have to tell your dad that you're crying in the bathroom?—"

"Don't," she cuts me off.

My eyes meet my reflection in the mirror, congratulating myself for grabbing her attention enough that I can stay. "Okay, then are you not feeling well?"

It's a long silence, but then I hear the click of her door, and it opens slightly. I turn my body to see what her next move is, but nothing happens.

"Do you… you… have something?"

I step forward. "Uh, what do you mean?"

"Something. You know, something."

I circle my eyes as I try to decode, and then it hits me. "Oh, I—yeah." I begin to search my purse. "I think I have a tampon."

"I…" Lori sounds petrified.

Then it dawns on me again. "Is this your first time by chance?"

Another sniffle, and I have my answer. I flinch and my body tightens. It's her first period and she's stuck with me in a bathroom. I wasn't prepared for this, nor was she.

"I think it's better if we get you a pad, let me think." I'm beginning to panic because I don't see anything around. Stay calm, Lexi. Do it for the almost thirteen-year-old who is going through a major life event. "I know." I lift a finger in the air. "Let's break out of this place. I have my car here, and we'll tend to important matters instead of listening to an old guy talk about hotel stuff."

The door to her stall opens even further, and her red face seems to accept that this is our only option, and she nods gently.

A line stretches on my mouth in support for her before I search my bag for the key to my car. "Here." I hand it to her.

"Please… don't tell him why we're leaving."

I zip my lips with my fingers. "I won't," I promise.

Okay, it seems the waterfall tears want to form, but I remain defiant and hold them in for her, and she snatches the keys and walks away. This is a big moment for her, and she must be scared. There isn't a woman in her life, but somehow the universe decided it should be shared with me.

Once I can't see Lori, I let out a deep breath that I think I need because I'm surprised we both survived that scene.

Gathering myself for a few ticks, I head straight back to the table.

Holden looks at me with concern and seems to be searching for Lori. "Where is my daughter?"

I lean down with one hand on the back of his chair and the other on the table to ensure I'm only in his earshot. "I think this is a perfect guys' night. Lori and I will be leaving."

"She hasn't even had dinner yet?" Holden doesn't sound pleased.

I smile tightly to him. "Trust me, okay?" I mumble under my breath. His brows lift, not impressed. "Holden, we're leaving." I'm firm in my tone that only he can hear.

He examines my face, only to read the message in my eyes that I'm putting my foot down and he has no choice but to accept it. "Sure. I'll bring home a doggy bag."

I stand and give the table a wide smile. "Forgotten homework, right?" I lift my shoulders.

"It's Saturday," Harry points out.

Geez, can anyone at this table just let it go?

"John, although brief, it was nice to meet you. I'm sure we will cross paths again."

He stands and sets his napkin on the table. "Of course. I'll be sure to get your details from Holden."

I smile in appreciation and turn, only to lock eyes one last time with Holden who has an unusual stare that's new to me.

It's fine. He should enjoy his dinner because I have a feeling he might freak out later.

* * *

I fiddlemy thumbs as I lean over the kitchen counter when I hear Holden and Harry arrive home.

"Head upstairs, and I'll say goodnight soon," I hear him tell his son, followed by feet thumping up the stairs.

I dread what's coming, but Holden will figure it out. My eyes lift when he slowly saunters my way, half pissed and the other half lost.

"You owe me a few explanations. That was one abrupt exit for an important meeting. What has my daughter done now?"

I grab the bottle of wine that I had opened and drag it my way, but then second-guess myself and slide it in Holden's direction and pour him a glass, as he will need it at the ready.

"She started her period," I mention as I close the bottle.

Holden's eyes flutter, and he seems to be registering the information. "Excuse me, she what?"

Okay, disbelief it is.

"Holden." I circle around the island to be close to him because a counter seems too much distance for us. "You know what I said."

He grabs the glass and takes a gulp of wine before setting it down and hissing a breath as he claws his hair. "The time has come."

I nod in understanding. "It seems it has."

He blinks a few times, taking in the fact that his little girl is growing up. "I knew this was coming, I just wasn't expecting it now. I'm kind of unready and surprised here."

I touch his arm to ensure he connects his eyes with me. "Then imagine how she's feeling."

"What the fuck do I do? I'm not prepared. Do I need to go upstairs and talk to her? Throw her party to welcome her to no longer being my little girl?" He's all over the place, as expected.

My hands skim up to square his shoulders to me, and I squeeze the curve of his muscles to assure him. "I took care of it, and if you need to add buying supplies next month to your grocery list then so be it. That's life."

He attempts to escape my hold. "I should talk?—"

"Noooo." I shut that down right away. "Just let her have some space tonight, and tomorrow it's a normal day. She wanted me to tell you, and I have."

Another sigh leaves his lips. "Okay, normal day. Yeah, I can do that. I can totally do that." He peps himself up.

I look at him with skepticism. "Really?" My tone is flat. "You're eyeing the wine bottle wondering where you put the whiskey. I can read your mind."

At last, he scoffs a sound of calm. "That's right… Want to have a drink with me?"

"I want my doggy bag actually. Lori and I just ate ice cream, and I need my Alfredo."

His face drops. "Oh shit, I knew I forgot something."

"Tell me you didn't." Ugh.

A grin stretches on his face again. "Nah, but messing with you is a relief right now."

I swat his arm, only for him to catch my attempt. His hand wraps around my wrist to hold up with warmth in his eyes.

"Lexi…"

"Yeah," I rasp.

"Thank you. I'm happy… that you're here. I would have been lost."

"It's nothing."

He crooks the fingers of his other hand and captures my chin before tipping my nose up to give him a perfect canvas. His lips lowering onto mine feels different.

Overpowering yet tender.

It isn't lust but instead a moment with significance behind it.

Holden presses down to suck my air before his mouth seizes my upper lip, softening the kiss. A light feathery feeling floats through my body, sending sensitive ripples from my toes all the way up.

Breaking away, his teeth scrape along my bottom lip. I feel it in my bones that this isn't a normal kiss. When he nuzzles my nose with his, it dawns on me that this is slow. The kind of kiss that leaves you entranced for days.

He reluctantly backs away, still keeping his finger under my jaw. "Truly thank you. You're…" he whispers, and although he doesn't finish his sentence, it feels as though we are on a new line.

A slow chip to a layer that we said we wouldn't cross.

After all, we both know what our attraction only is, right?