Neither the story nor the characters belong to me.
Chapter Three
TEMARI
An ear-splitting cry woke me, and i slapped at my phone, trying to shut off the alarm. Why the hell did I set it for 5:45 a.m.?
Oh, wait. That wasn't an alarm…that was Hoki. Right. Because I'd taken the boys last night.
Holy. Shit.
I fell out of the queen-size guest room bed and scrubbed the sleep out of my eyes as I stumbled across the hall.
"I'm sorry,"
Denki apologized in a tiny voice, his wide eyes darting toward mine as he leaned over the playpen. Sakura had saved my butt and picked it up, along with some provisions, while I signed the temporary foster- parent paperwork.
"It's not your fault, bud," I said, running my hands over his dark hair.
He leaned into my touch, just like he usually did at school, so maybe there was hope of him not closing me out.
I quickly changed Hoki while he hollered, and then took them down the stairs to the great room.
"This place is big," Denki said, his eyes sweeping the layout.
"It is," I agreed, heading for the kitchen. It was huge for a guy who constantly swore he'd never have a family of his own.
"I can make his bottle," Denki said, grabbing the yellow can of formula, half gallon of water, and said bottle before I could object. "I do it all the time. I'm really good at it."
"Okay," I said, struggling to keep my voice level as he carefully measured out the scoops.
My first instinct was to tell him not to worry, that I'd take care of it—of them—but he'd lost every bit of certainty in his little five-year-old world, so I understood his basic need to care for Hoki—to keep something normal.
"How about I grab you some cereal while you're doing that?" I offered. "Saku picked up some Lucky Charms."
"Yes, please."
Intense concentration furrowed his brow as he poured the water, doing his best not to spill. Hoki chewed on a stray strand of my hair while I fixed the cereal and thanked God that Sakura had helped with all this stuff last night. Once Hoki was happily breakfasting on formula, I turned back to Denki.
"You know, I'm still just Miss Uzumaki," I said as I hoisted him onto the stool at the kitchen bar. "You can even call me Temari if you want."
He nodded but didn't take his eyes off his marshmallow hunt.
I popped a K-cup into the new Keurig and pushed all the set-up buttons. As it brewed, I ran my hand along the dove-gray granite counters. Construction had been completed a month ago, and the builder had outdone themselves. It was traditional without being stuffy, and contemporary without being cold.
The furniture was sturdy and masculine but comfortable with buttery soft leather couches and a television that looked like it belonged in a movie theater. The walls were mostly bare, the décor nonexistent. There were no personal touches, nothing that might give any clues to who Shika was under the surface, because he didn't live here…yet. But within a month, he'd be back in Konoha.
Don't go there. You're here for a week—max—and out.
Speaking of the giant television, I said a silent prayer of thanks that someone had gotten it set up as I popped on a cartoon and put Hoki into the jumping contraption Sakura and I had assembled last night with a glass of wine after the kids were asleep.
"Is Paw Patrol okay?" I asked Denki.
He nodded enthusiastically, sinking into the thick cushions of the couch closest to Hoki.
Wait. Was I supposed to let them watch TV this early in the morning? Wasn't I always the one telling parents to lessen screen time? But, for God's sake, it was—I checked my phone—barely six in the morning and I hadn't even had coffee yet. Surely there was a mercy rule when it came to technology and parents going on four hours of sleep.
I doctored the coffee with cream and sugar, then tiptoed through the downstairs like I'd be in trouble if I got caught. Last night had been so hectic with getting the boys down that I hadn't taken the time to really explore. How was it that even the lines of the floor plan reminded me of him? Open spaces welcomed friends and closed-off hallways led to the more personal rooms like the study.
The great room was vaulted to the second story, with windows that ran the height of the room. The view was spectacular, looking out over the valley and up at the peaks above. The scar from the fire ran a wicked, curved line down the closest mountain. There were new pine trees and a few survivors here and there, but they were far outnumbered by the corpses of the trees that had burned that day. The view was just like Shika. Beautiful to the point of breathlessness with undisguised damage front and center to serve as a warning he'd never be entirely safe. There would always be that part of him that was ready to burn under the right circumstances. Who would eventually stand here with him? Watch the scar disappear with the growth of new life as the years passed? I knew two things about his hypothetical future wife: she was incredibly lucky, and I already hated her. Maturity was never my strong suit when it came to him.
Venturing into his office, I admired the clean lines of the furniture and a shelf of leather-bound classics, wondering who he'd hired to decorate. He was still living in California, but this place was move-in ready, from the bed linens to the dishes in the cabinet.
It was almost like he wasn't bringing anything with him from California.
My fingers traced the line of his desk as I sipped my coffee, my eyebrows rising as I caught sight of the photo gallery on the opposite wall. Like a freaking magnet, I gravitated to the only solo picture he had of himself on the wall. My breath hitched at a two-dimensional picture—I had it that bad. Of course, he was decked out in full gear with a devil-may-care smile plastered on his gorgeous face. The sun glinted off his light-brown hair, sweat-soaked from the fire they'd been working, and his helmet held under one arm. Why did he have to be so annoyingly gorgeous? Man, I hoped I didn't gawk like this when he actually got here next month. What would it be like now that he was moving home? Would he still treat me like an annoying little sister whenever Naruto was around? Being on the same crew would only bring them closer than ever, and it wasn't like either of them had a choice of quitting—not if they wanted the Konoha name on the hotshot crew.
Sixty percent Konoha members—children of the original team—that had been the stipulation the town council had made when Sasuke-kun, Naruto, and Shika submitted a proposal to reestablish the team. The council said the rule was made to assure the support of the surviving family members, but our town wasn't stupid. It was half deterrent and half PR stunt, but they'd demanded sixty percent, and now they were all headed home to put on the patch our fathers had died in.
Nothing like tempting fate in the name of family tradition.
Ugh, my stupid heart ached from looking at his picture, like I was some high-schooler with a crush and a notebook full of signatures with his last name attached to mine. I hated how much I missed him, that I knew the exact number of days since he'd visited last. I loathed the way I felt about him— abhorred the dreams I had where he did way more than just kiss me. I despised the jealousy that threatened to turn my skin green when I saw yet another woman on his Instagram. But none of those words fit how I actually felt about him. No, I was head-over-heels in love with that arrogant ass and had been since I was old enough to name the emotion. But to him…well, I wasn't anything, not even a blip on his sexual radar. I was his best friend's little sister. And I hated that most of all.
I left my feelings in the office and closed the door, walking back down the short hallway to the living room, where I found the boys watching TV. Denki's little head kept moving side to side like he was watching a tennis match, and Hoks jumped happily a few feet away. Maybe if I was quick, I could sneak upstairs and at least put on a bra before they got restless, because the little shelf number in this pajama tank top wasn't doing my D-cup girls any favors.
Right on cue, Hoki started to wail, his shrill cry echoing off the walls in the great room. I scooped him up and cradled him to my chest, rubbing his back, but the cries didn't stop. They only grew louder.
"You're clean. You're dry. You're fed," I whispered, mentally going through the logical reasons a baby would fuss and flinching as the next cry hit a pitch that made nails on a chalkboard seem like a symphony. "Maybe a little walk?"
Denki observed, matching my steps as I paced the halls with Hoki, patting his back, humming, promising I'd buy him everything short of a pony if he'd just stop for a little bit. His tone reached an ear-piercing shriek and somehow stayed there.
An hour later, I promised him the damn pony.
I tried a bottle, burping, a diaper change…anything and everything I could think of, to include singing, which only made him cry harder. Anxiety flooded every cell in my body. What if I couldn't get him to stop? What if he knew I had exactly zero experience with a baby and wanted nothing to do with me? If this went on much longer, I was going to start crying with him.
Denki watched me with nervous eyes.
"I'm sorry. He does this. He gets really loud. Mom usually lets him cry it..." He blinked quickly and looked away as we made the loop back into the kitchen.
It was the first time he'd mentioned his mother since Shizune's arrival last night.
"It's okay, Denki. He's just a baby and doesn't know how to tell me what's wrong. Don't worry, we'll figure it out. And it's okay to talk about your mom..."
"Maybe he's hungry," he interrupted, reaching for the bottle.
He leaned as far as he could onto the counter, and before I could help, knocked over the open box of Lucky Charms, sending the entire bag of cereal spilling in a colorful arc over the dark hardwood floor.
I mentally cursed the cereal company for allowing that to happen. Who the hell designed cereal boxes? Didn't they realize kids would be using them? Couldn't they come up with something a little better than an open plastic bag secured with a tiny cardboard tab?
"I'm sorry!" Denki cried, tears welling.
My heart clenched.
"It's okay," I promised, forcing a smile as I bounced Hoki on my hip.
The wailing reached an all-new level of misery, and my head exploded in pain as he hit the perfect pitch to bring on a headache. Maybe I needed to call Cherry, Hoks's usual babysitter. She had to know how to settle him down, right? Or maybe I'd simply lost my fool mind. Convincing Shizune I could absolutely handle bringing the boys home was one thing—the reality was quite another. This was like drinking from a fire hose.
Hello, crash course in parenthood.
I heard the alarm ding behind me as the front door opened and nearly cried in relief as the security code was input, silencing the harsh warning tones. Sakura was here. I'd never been so freaking thankful in my life.
"We're in here!" I called out over my shoulder as I heard two sets of steps coming down the hallway from the entry. Maybe Sasuke had made it home early?
Hoki's little belly heaved, and before my brain could process the action, he vomited. An impossible amount of warm, sticky liquid gushed all over my back. I froze, not even daring to breathe as he wretched again. How could one little baby have that much in his stomach?
Oh. My. Gross.
He finished his Exorcist routine, and I quickly took stock of the damage. My hair, my back, the floor behind me... it was all covered in splattered puddles of baby vomit.
Denki grimaced.
"Eww."
"Eww indeed." I pulled the chubby, now-smiling baby off my miraculously clean chest and held him at arm's length to check him over. Of course, he didn't have a drop on him or his little footy pajamas, and mercifully, he'd stopped crying. "He must not have felt good," I said to Denki, pondering how to get Hoks back to the living room without tracking puke all over the place. "I'm so glad you're here, because I desperately need a shower," I called out to Sakura.
She was going to laugh her ass off at me.
"Oh. My. God," a feminine voice replied.
That was definitely not Saku.
I turned around as Hoki hurled again, this time splashing puke onto my chest. A warm flood rushed down my tank top, filling the shelf bra and soaking through the fabric.
This was officially the grossest moment of my life, and I taught preschool.
"I can't believe you're…married!" a woman shrieked from just inside the kitchen, smacking the guy behind her with an oversized handbag.
My stomach dove for the floor. That was not Sasuke.
Oh, no, no, no. Fuck. My. Life.
This was a nightmare, it had to be, like the one where I was naked at school without my homework, except worse. So much worse.
I shifted Hoki to my other, non-puke-covered hip and watched the fully made-up brunette supermodel in her immaculate, studded jeans spin, her Louis Vuitton bag knocking my coffee mug off the counter and sending it sailing to the floor. The mug shattered on the hardwood. Coffee joined the cereal and puke.
Awesome.
"How dare you!" she shrieked, a fury of angry little stomps as she charged toward him, her finger shaking in rage. "We may have kept it casual, but I'm not down with this shit!" She swung her arm, motioning toward me.
I moved sideways, pulling an open-mouthed Denki behind my back. The room fell silent, and when I looked up, deep brown eyes were locked on mine, wide with a little shock and a touch of amusement. With the hundreds of ways I'd pictured his homecoming…well, I'd never been soaked in baby puke in any of those fantasies.
"Hey, Temari." His voice was soft and deep as the corners of his mouth quirked up slightly.
"Shika." I barely managed a whisper, praying my eyes conveyed the apology I knew he desperately deserved. He'd brought a woman home, and I was a flat tire of a third wheel.
The model started yelling again.
"Months!" She turned panicked eyes on me, and I clutched Hoki a little tighter. "I've been sleeping with your husband for months! And he's never once mentioned you." Her gaze swung to Shika. "How could you never mention a wife? Or kids?"
Before I could tell her Shika and I were anything but married, she went off on another tirade, this time directed at Shika, stabbing her finger in his direction.
The puke on my boobs started to chill, which only made it that much grosser.
"And if you think I'm going to play side chick in this hot mess, you're sorely mistaken!" She motioned back toward me, and my cheeks flushed with embarrassment.
"Stop, Melinda," Shika warned, putting himself between us.
I could only imagine how I looked in crumpled sleep pants, soaked in vomit, last night's makeup that was probably smeared under my eyes, with my hair a tangled pile of rat's nest. She wasn't far off on the hot mess comment.
Hoki, however, thought the whole situation was hilarious, and giggled while Denki looked around my hip and tried to hush his baby brother.
"How could you do this?" she yelled.
"For f..." Shika's gaze caught on Denki, and he stopped himself mid-swear. "God's sake, Melinda, could you give me just a second?"
She folded her arms and glared.
If there was a hole in the floor I could have disappeared into, I would have.
"Holy crap, you're already home" Ino, Kiba's girlfriend, said from the entry hall, carrying—thank you, God—fresh coffee. "Sorry, the door was open, and Sakura asked if I'd drop off some coffee and check on Temari." Her bright-blue eyes bounced between us, and I forced an awkward smile, knowing she was more than aware of my feelings for Shika, thanks to a few glasses of wine after she'd moved here from Alaska with Kiba. "We weren't expecting you for a month."
"That's pretty obvious," Shika replied with a tilt of his head, his gaze swinging to mine. "Did I order a crib with all that new furniture?"
"I'm so sorry, Shika." I sidestepped the puddle of puke to keep Denki in the clear. "I thought we'd be gone before you got here."
"Wait, are you two separated?" Melinda asked.
"Awkward," Ino sang softly.
He held up his finger in Melinda's direction and turned back toward me with a look of annoyance.
"Temari, stop saying you're sorry. My home is yours, no questions asked. I can't count how many times you've come home to find me standing in your kitchen. Don't apologize. You asked. I said yes. I'm just a little…surprised by the small people, that's all." Lowering his finger, he looked back at Ino. "Ino, this is Melinda, she's a friend from California, and she needs a ride to Crested Butte to visit her family. Would you mind driving her over?"
Crested Butte was about twenty minutes up the pass... hold up. Did he say friend? Because the way she was looking at him said she felt way more than friendship.
"I can do that" Ino replied, setting one of the takeout coffee cups on the counter. And shooting me a wtf look.
"Thanks." Shika turned his attention to Melinda, a muscle ticking in his jaw. "Mel, Ino is my friend Kiba's girl, and she's going to take you to your sister's. And just to set the record straight, Temari isn't my wife or girlfriend, or anything. And she's not a hot mess, she's my best friend's little sister."
Whoomp, there it is.
Whatever spark of hope I'd kept alive for the last decade deflated like an untied balloon. That's what it would always come down to. First, foremost, and always, I was Naruto's little sister in Shika's mind. Funny how that hurt worse than his friend calling me a hot mess.
"Oh," Melinda said, her gaze darting between us all. "I'm just…I'm sorry. I saw the kids and jumped to conclusions." Her eyes flared with sympathy as she looked my way. "And I didn't mean that you're a hot mess. Just the whole Shika-has-a-wife thing would have been a mess."
"It's okay. I'm pretty... " the dripping puke reached my navel "messy."
She laughed, and I somehow doubted this woman had been messy a day in her life.
Don't be a jealous wench.
"I should have known better. Like this guy would ever settle down." She lifted her bag back onto her shoulder. "I'll be in town for the next week or so. Call me if you get bored." She flashed Shika a smile. "Thanks for the ride."
"Yeah," Shika replied, his voice taking on that crisp, blunt, dismissive tone he used when cutting someone out.
Whoa.
The woman was done in his mind, even if she didn't realize it. I'd seen him slice out countless people when they stepped over whatever imaginary line he'd drawn, and I couldn't help but feel sorry for her. She'd be added to the list of women who had zero clue why they'd been ostracized.
"I'll walk you out."
The two disappeared down the hallway, and Ino turned her wide eyes on me.
"Holy crap, that was intense. Where is your phone?"
"My phone?" I blinked. "Um. I think it's upstairs on the nightstand."
"Saku's been trying to call you for the last hour. Sasuke got home about an hour ago and told her Shika was already on the way too. I was coming to warn you." She flinched "Sorry I was too late."
"There's nothing to be sorry for. Thank you for the coffee." I shook my head. "If I'd known he was on his way home, I would have run the other direction."
"I know. You okay?" Concern filled her eyes. "I was going to offer to help out this morning, but if he wants me to drive her…" She glanced back toward the door.
"I'll be fine," I assured her, part of me screaming for her to stay so I'd have a buffer between me and Shika.
"Okay. Fill me in later, or text if you need backup."
She waved to the boys and hurried out after Shika and Melinda.
"Is it okay?" Denki whispered.
"Yeah, it's okay, bud." I ruffled his hair with my spare hand. "I think we just surprised Shika."
"And the lady." His nose crinkled.
"Especially the lady," I agreed. "But I'm really glad you're here."
He swallowed, his gaze dropping to the mess on the floor.
"I can help clean up."
Before I could reply, Shika walked back in, pushing up the sleeves of his gray sweater to his elbows, and revealing tan, muscular forearms…
His forearms? Get a grip.
Okay, but those hips? The way the jeans hugged him? Mercy.
Denki stepped back behind me as Shika took in the spilled cereal, busted ceramic, splattered coffee, and baby vomit all over his floor and sighed before shaking his head. "So, I'm just wondering, did I miss the part of my life where we got married and had a couple of kids? This is all feeling very Twilight Zone."
"Like you even watch The Twilight Zone." I scoffed, shifting my weight as I felt the puke drying in some places on me and turning ice cold in others.
"How would you know? Maybe my tastes have changed."
"After what I just saw, I think it's safe to say they haven't" I cringed at his quirked eyebrow. "Sorry. It's been a long morning. Night. Everything. Now I just got you in a fight with your girlfriend and wrecked your kitchen."
"She's not my girlfriend. Pretty sure you heard that part. It was more of a friends-with-benefits kind of thing that ended weeks ago, but when she heard I was driving home, she asked if she could catch a ride so she could see her sister. I was already on my way when you texted last night. Why don't you hand me Sir Pukes-A-Lot and go take a shower?" He walked forward, flexing his hands in the classic give-me motion.
My jaw dropped.
"You're going to watch the kids, including a baby, while I shower?"
I'd never seen Shika so much as look in a baby's direction before.
"Relax. I highly doubt I could manage to accidentally maim them in the amount of time it would take you to rinse the puke off." He stared me down, standing a foot away with outstretched arms.
"You wouldn't mind? You don't want to know what's going on first?"
"Of course I do, but you smell. So, hand him over. We'll sort this all out once you're not wearing his breakfast. I don't think the guest bath is stocked yet, so use my shower... first door on the right." He nodded up the stairs.
Maybe this was The Twilight Zone.
"He could very well ruin your shirt. Just look at me."
He arched an eyebrow, then reached behind his head and pulled his sweater and T-shirt off in one smooth, mouth-watering motion. The guy was all cut lines and hard surfaces, topped off with a cocky grin, which was exactly where I kept my eyes. Looking any lower would have slaughtered my sanity.
"There. No shirt to ruin. Hand him over."
When he reached for Hoki, I let him go without another protest. Mostly because I was speechless. Shika shirtless? I was a puddle of decade-old need and idiotic longing.
Shika shirtless with a baby? Boom. Pretty sure I was instantly pregnant.
"What's up, little man?" he asked Hoki, holding him with both hands like a breakable vase. Hoki gave him a toothy grin, and then Shika turned his smile on Denki, who wasn't as easily won over. "Baseball? Star Wars? Evil Dead? What's your poison?"
"Hoki likes Paw Patrol," Denki answered, stepping away from my legs and giving Shika a very judgy once-over.
"Go," Shika urged me. "I've got this."
The promise of a shower was too good to pass up.
"I'll only take a couple minutes, I promise. Denki, this is Shika, and he's my brother's best friend. I've known him since I was a baby. I trust him, so you can too. Will you be okay if I go rinse off?"
He looked at Shika again and nodded solemnly. I ruffled his hair again and smiled.
"Be right back."
I raced for the shower. I may have had my hands full with two boys, but add Shika into the picture and I was seriously in over my foolish little head
