The Setup and the Substitute by Jiffy Kate

Chapter 39

Sophie

“Hey.”Owen’s voice is like a balm to my soul. The texting and banter have been fun this past week. It’s opened up the lines of communication and brought back the connection we’ve had since the beginning. But it’s no replacement for hearing him.

And definitely not a replacement for seeing him.

“I’m assuming you landed safely?” I ask as I walk down Royal Street, perusing the windows as I go. For late July, it’s not too miserable, so I thought I’d get out of my apartment for a while.

“I did,” he says, his tone sounding playful and happy, something I’ve missed so much. “And I was hoping to take you out on a date.”

Stopping in front of one of my favorite art galleries, I fight back a smile.

“A date?” I ask, trying to sound cool and casual, but feeling anything but.

“Yes,” he says matter-of-factly. “An honest-to-God date. I want to pick you up, take you to dinner, and then maybe dessert… dancing… whatever you want to do.”

There’s a part of me that wants to make him work for this, put him through a little bit of the torture I felt for the past couple weeks, but I can’t.

I want to see him.

Need to see him.

“Okay,” I say, turning to the window and taking in the gorgeous piece of art in front of me, wishing it was Owen Thatcher. “I’ll go on a date with you.”

“Pick you up at seven.”

After the call ends, my mind automatically goes into date-mode and I start trying to make a mental list of things I should do to prepare. Unfortunately, or fortunately depending on how you look at it, I’ve already done my usual upkeep, so to speak, while I was trying to distract myself from missing Owen.

Now, all I have to do is sit and wait and two things I’m terrible at are sitting and waiting.

I have five hours to kill before Owen picks me up and I’m already jittery from excitement and nerves, so an afternoon coffee is out of the question.

One thing I haven’t done in a while is shop for clothes and tonight is the perfect reason for a new outfit. Turning at the corner a few steps ahead, I begin to make my way to my favorite boutique with plans to stop by a nearby lingerie shop as well.

Might as well be prepared, I always say.

Four hours later, I’m in my apartment, fresh out of the bath, and pouring myself a glass of wine to sip on while I get ready. It’s too hot for a full face of makeup, so I keep my look simple with a little powder, mascara, and lip gloss. Then I twist my long curls into a simple but chic low ponytail. Once my new, flowy dress and flats are on, along with a few pieces of jewelry, I begin to pace around the space, trying not to watch the clock.

Why am I so nervous?

Because it’s Owen.

And I’ve missed him so much.

And I have so much to say to him.

As I’m making the tenth lap around my small living room, the doorbell rings causing me to practically jump out of my skin. Looking at my watch, I see it’s fifteen minutes before Owen is supposed to pick me up and I smile at the thought that maybe he’s as anxious as I am.

Forcing myself to walk slowly, I make my way to the door, not because I want to make him wait, but because I need a minute to steady my heart. When I reach the foyer, I take a second to shake out my arms and let out a deep breath, willing my nerves to stay at bay.

Then I open the door.

And there he is.

The man I’ve been dying to see for weeks.

The man I’ve missed so much.

The man who is everything to me.

The man I love.

Owen Thatcher is standing outside my apartment looking like a model straight off the cover of GQ in a suit tailored perfectly for his tall, muscular build. He even tried to slick his thick hair back with some product but, bless him, he still has a few wild strands falling over his forehead and I want so badly to run my fingers through them right now.

After we stare at each other for what feels like forever, he clears his throat and gives me a shy smile.

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

For a moment, I feel tongue-tied and nervous. Then I remind myself this is Owen and he’s here for me. He wanted to take me out on a date.

Opening the door a little wider, I give him what I hope is my best smile.

“Come inside.”

I swear, when he steps into my apartment, the entire energy changes. Typically, this place is peaceful, relaxed, and welcoming. But with him here, it suddenly feels so intense and charged I fear I’ll be zapped if I touch anything.

“These are for you.” I look at Owen’s outstretched hand and notice the bouquet of flowers in them. I didn’t even realize he was holding them because I was too busy checking him out.

No regrets.

“Thank you,” I gush, taking them and walking into the kitchen to put them in a vase with water.

“I didn’t know what your favorite flower is, so I got a few of everything… all the ones that reminded me of you.”

For once in my life, I don’t know what to say. It’s not that I don’t have anything to say; it’s that I can’t decide where to start.

Do I tell him how hurt I was when he left?

How much I’ve missed him?

That I’m desperately in love with him?

Turning on the faucet to fill the vase with water, I give myself a chance to collect my thoughts. Once the flowers are on display next to the sink, I feel him behind me. When he places his hand on my hip, I can’t help but close my eyes and soak in the small contact.

With the slightest pressure on my hip, he turns my body to face him, and his gaze is so severe it takes my breath away. “Owen—”

“Let me speak first,” he interrupts. “Please.”

When I nod my head, he continues.

“Sophie, I’m so sorry for how these last few weeks have gone. I know we’ve discussed it some over the phone, but I wanted to tell you in person… I was an asshole. And I think while I was trying so hard to not hurt you, I did just that. I didn’t handle things well over the past few weeks and I shut you out when I should’ve pulled you closer.”

I watch as he swallows, the sincerity so evident in his tone and expression.

“Please forgive me.”

Cupping his jaw, I allow my fingers to slide just a little into his hair like I’ve been wanting to do. Last week, I was ready to make him suffer like I had been. But now that he’s standing here in front of me—vulnerable and open. I can’t. Hurting him would only hurt me.

“You did hurt my feelings,” I admit, holding his gaze. “And I’ve been so mad at you for shutting me out, but I do forgive you.”

I want to tell him the rest—that I’m so in love with him and I’m hoping he feels the same. I also want to kiss him so badly it hurts, but there are still so many things to talk about. And for once, we have time.

He gives me a half smile and there’s so much relief etched into his features, like he thought I might not forgive him. When he exhales and touches his forehead to mine, I want to forget everything and just lose myself in him.

But I can’t. He owes me more than just an apology. I want the date he promised, and I want to know he’s in this for good.

Pressing my hands against his chest, I put some space between us, needing it if I’m going to hold onto my resolve. “Let’s start our date, shall we?” I ask, moving around him, but he grabs me by the waist.

“Wait, a second,” he says, sounding slightly offended. “No hello, I’ve missed you kiss?”

“You and I both know if we start kissing now, we won’t stop.”

The way his heated gaze travels from my eyes to my lips and back make my insides flip in anticipation.

Soon.

But not right now.

“Exactly. I don’t understand the problem.”

Laughing, I grab his hand and pull him toward the door. “You promised me a date and I’m holding you to it.”

“What if I don’t really have anything planned? What if this was it?”

The boyish, fun-loving smile on his lips is one of my favorite Owen Thatcher smiles. It doesn’t come out to play very often, but when it does?

Watch out.

“Nice try, but you always have a plan. Now take me out.” I grab my purse and walk toward the door. But before I can open it, Owen pulls me to him and wraps his arms around me tightly.

“God, I missed you.”

Melting into him, tears prick my eyes as I hold him back just as tight. “I missed you too.”

I’m about five seconds from telling him to forget the date, when he kisses my hair and pulls away. “We better get going,” he says, righting his suit jacket and opening the door for me. “We have dinner reservations in thirty minutes.”

For a second, I just stand there staring at him, feeling like I’m on a rollercoaster of emotions—happy, sad, pissed, forgiving, in love, and everything in between. But when his eyes lock with mine, I realize something then and there.

No matter the emotion, I want to feel it with him.

Nodding, I step out and lock up my apartment. When he takes my hand and laces his fingers with mine, everything feels right in the world, like this is exactly where I’m supposed to be.

Instead of driving, we walk to the restaurant, which isn’t far from my apartment. A small Italian place set back off the street down one of the alleyways.

When we approach the door, a man steps out to greet us and the whole scene puts off major Lady and The Tramp vibes. As we walk inside, there’s even a guy playing a guitar in the corner and dripping candles on every table.

Laughing, I lean into Owen’s shoulder.

“What’s so funny?” he whispers as we follow the hostess to our table.

“I was just thinking this place reminds me of the restaurant in Lady and The Tramp.”

He snickers, shaking his head. “And that’s the effect Disney has on people’s brains.”

“Occupational hazard,” I say, sitting in the chair he pulls out for me.

Once he’s seated across from me, the waiter walks up and takes our drink orders. Owen lets me choose the wine and I pick a favorite red that I know he’ll love. He’s not a big wine drinker, but we’ve shared a few glasses and I’ve learned what he likes.

“Molly and Ryan miss you like crazy,” he says as the waiter walks off. “They talk about you constantly.”

Smiling, I swallow down the rush of emotions. “I miss them so much, but we have been FaceTiming quite a bit, which has helped.”

“My mom is kind of crazy about you too,” he says with a grin.

There’s a warmth radiating off him right now that feels so good, I could bask in it all night… or for the rest of my life.

“So,” he muses, “since this is our first date, I think we should get to know each other.”

“Okay,” I reply, deciding we have plenty of time for the heavy and happy to just let the conversation go where it may. “What do you want to know?”

He leans forward, bringing himself closer and for a second, I think he’s going serious on me. Then he says, “I know Italian is your favorite food, but what’s your favorite dessert?”

Youis on the tip of my tongue, but I go with, “Banana pudding. What’s yours?”

“Rocky Road ice cream with caramel drizzle.”

“I should’ve guessed that,” I say, thinking back to that first day we met. “What’s your biggest pet peeve?”

“People who talk during a movie.”

Laughing, I shake my head. “But your children are the worst!”

“Which shows how much I love them,” he deadpans. “They can’t stay quiet for five minutes, and I still watch movies with them on the regular.”

The waiter shows back up with our bottle of wine, pouring a small amount in the glass in front of me and letting me taste.

I already know I like it, but I go through the formality of swirling it in the glass before bringing it to my nose, then take a small sip.

Smiling, I nod my approval and he pours a full glass for me and then Owen.

“You’re so beautiful,” Owen says softly once the waiter is gone. “Even in this lighting, your eyes are so blue. They were one of the first things I noticed about you.”

“But not the first?” I ask, biting back a smile.

He shakes his head. “No, not the first.”

For a moment, I think he’s not going to tell me, but then he says, “It was your hair… and then your gorgeous face… that might’ve happened simultaneously. But then, you brought your hand up to block the sun and I caught a glimpse of those baby blues.”

“And you were a goner,” I tease, before taking a sip of my wine.

That stunning smile is back and then he bites down on his lip, looking at me through lowered lashes. “Basically.”

That makes me laugh again and I feel a blush creeping up on my cheeks. I’m not sure why, Owen has given me compliments plenty of times before, but this feels different. We’re no longer hiding behind closed doors or in a non-committal relationship… this isn’t an agreement between employee and employer… or even two consenting adults.

This is me and Owen—real, honest, and out in the open for anyone to see.

And I couldn’t love it more.

After a delicious dinner, Owen and I decide to walk around the city for a while. He told me we could do whatever I want and truthfully, I just want to be with him.

Since he doesn't know his way around this part of town very well, I take the lead and walk us around Jackson Square and down to the riverfront promenade called The Moonwalk. It’s a very romantic spot in New Orleans, especially in the evenings as the sun goes down and the wind off the river is cool.

We walk in silence for a while, holding hands and enjoying the beautiful pink and orange sunset unfolding in front of us.

“I definitely need to see more of this city. I feel like I’ve been sheltering myself since we moved here and I’ve been missing out on a lot of things,” Owen admits.

“In your defense, you’ve had a lot on your plate since you came here, but don’t worry, I’ll show you around.” I look up at him and wink, but the expression on his face is more serious than I was expecting.

“Can we sit down for a minute?” he asks before finding a bench for us to use.

When we sit, I try to put some space between us. I get too distracted when we touch, and I know we still have important things to say to each other. But Owen is having none of that. He pulls me close, turning my body to face him as he takes both of my hands in his.

“First,” he starts, clearing his throat as he looks out across the river and then back at me. The seriousness in his expression and tone makes my stomach drop and I brace myself for whatever is coming next.

“I got a call from Hank and he told me Lisa has been arrested.”

I don’t respond, I just stare at him with wide eyes.

“She flew back to California a few days ago and was immediately taken into custody. Hank promised to give me updates as he gets them, but she’s probably going to prison for at least a few years, if not longer.”

“What about the kids? Are you going to tell them?”

He lets out a deep sigh. “I honestly don’t know. They’re too young to truly understand and I don’t want to upset them, but I have to tell them something. To be honest, they haven’t even mentioned Lisa since I took them to my parents. But I know it will affect them. I mean, how could it not?”

There’s a sense of relief at the thought of Lisa being in custody. I didn’t realize how much pent-up worry I had about it until just now. It’s not that I want her to suffer, but she’s obviously in a bad place right now and she needs help.

Exhaling, I rest my forehead against his shoulder. “They’re going to be okay,” I assure him. “They’re so resilient.” We sit there for a minute, just letting it all sink in.

“I know I said this already, but I miss them. How many weeks until they’re back?” I ask, lifting my head to see his face. “I mean, I’m happy they’re spending all this time with your parents and I’m sure they’re doing great, but I can’t wait to see them again.”

“They’re going to be so happy to see you when they get back,” he says, shaking his head. “All Molly could talk about was Sophie this and Sophie that.”

He laughs and so do I, releasing a little more tension.

“You better watch it. My parents are thinking you’re some kind of celebrity.”

“Oh, God,” I groan, tilting my head back. “Maybe she could throw in a few complaints about me to even the score.”

“What complaints?” Owen asks, his voice growing softer as he reaches up to brush back a rogue curl that slipped out of my ponytail. “You’re perfect.”

“No.” Shaking my head, I bite my lip to keep from smiling. “I’m far from it.”

“You’re perfect for me.”

We’re both quiet for a few minutes, as the breeze picks up and carries the sound of a saxophone playing down the walkway.

“Sophie,” he starts, then pauses and I’m not sure what I expected him to say next, but it certainly wasn’t what came out of his mouth. “I don’t want you to be Molly and Ryan’s nanny anymore.”

Swallowing, I pull my hands out of his hold and inch back.

Have I read this entire evening wrong?

Surely not.

I mean—

“What?” I ask, trying to keep the hurt out of my tone but failing.

“No, wait, let me finish,” he pleads, grabbing my hands and pulling them to his chest. “I don’t want you to be their nanny anymore because I don’t want you to be my employee. I want you to be with me… with us.”

My heart stops and then starts back up again—beating so fast it feels like there’s a hummingbird in my chest. “Owen, what are you saying?”

“I’m saying, I’m in love with you, Sophie Callahan.”

His eyes bore into mine and they convey a thousand words.

Be with me.

I want you.

I need you.

I love you.

“I know things have moved quickly, but over the past couple weeks, I’ve realized that I can’t live without you. I don’t want to live without you. And it’s not because of how safe you make me feel and cared for. It’s for a million reasons that all add up to me loving you… and wanting to love you for however long you’ll let me.”

I’m so stunned by his declaration that it takes me a moment to realize he’s waiting for me to respond.

“You love me.” It’s not a question, because that would mean I didn’t believe him. But I do. I think I’ve known it for a long time, but neither of us were brave enough to take the leap.

But here he is, jumping with no parachute.

He nods and I can see that his eyes are glassy with unshed emotions.

This might be my favorite version of Owen yet.

The one who’s willing to put his whole heart on the line for the girl he loves.

“I love you too,” I say, choking on my own emotions. “I thought I was going to be the one making this big declaration tonight to get you to see how amazing we are together, but here you are, stealing my breath and making me speechless.”

“So, is that a yes? You’ll not be my nanny anymore?”

Laughing through my tears, I wrap my arms around his neck and crawl into his lap. I don’t care who’s watching. This is New Orleans after all, and I guarantee people have seen crazier things than this.

“Yes,” I say into his neck, my lips brushing his skin and getting my first real taste of Owen in weeks. “I just want to be with you and I want to love Molly and Ryan like they’re my own. That’s all I want. I love you so much.”

His arms hold me tightly and for a few minutes, we just sit there like that. Then, Owen pulls back, our noses brushing and lips grazing. For a brief second, our eyes meet and I see my tears reflected in his, along with love and desire.

Then, his lips capture mine and we kiss. It’s a little sloppy and we’re giggling like lovesick teenagers, but it’s perfect and such a relief to be back in Owen’s arms again.