CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO GABRIELLE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
G AbrIELLE
I hope you aren’t expecting anything fancy,” I say, turning on the tap. “We’re having burgers and potato chips for dinner. And before you come for me that there isn’t a vegetable on the plate—I know, and I don’t care tonight.”
“Are we eating now?” Carter asks.
“Go wash your hands and face. And change your shirt,” I say. “Then get Dylan and tell him he can come down to eat.”
Carter screws up his face. “Sure. Make me tell him.”
“Go.”
He stomps up the stairs, expressing his frustration in every step.
I wait for him to disappear before I turn to Jay. I’m about to steal a kiss when I’m reminded of his black eye.
“Do you want some ice for that?” I touch the side of his face gently. “It’s going to bruise.”
He glances at the stairs before grabbing my hips and pulling me to him. “Are you sure about this?”
“I wouldn’t have asked you if I wasn’t sure.” I stand on my tiptoes and press a soft kiss against his lips. “It’s just a meal, and Carter invited you. Not me.”
“Carter said Dylan was being a jerk face to you.”
I grin. “The day ends with a y , so yeah, that’s true.”
“I don’t want to make things worse by being here.”
My heart stills. “Do you not want to be here?”
His crooked smile melts me. My heart starts beating again.
“Strangely, I want to be here,” he says, his voice just above a whisper. “But I’m not sure how you want this to go, and I don’t want to fuck this up.”
Footsteps sound from the floor above us. I swipe another kiss.
“This thing between us ... I like it, Jay,” I say, watching his eyes lighten. “It makes me feel good. You make me feel good.”
“Sneak by tonight, and I’ll make sure you feel very good .”
I laugh. “It might be good for them to see me be happy.”
“And I make you happy?”
“You make me very happy.” I press my palms against his chest. “And it’s time they see that.”
If we were alone, I would explain all the things rolling around in my head—like how safe I feel with him. And how I notice the kindness he shows my children. I would tell him that I can’t wrap my head around how easily our lives have intertwined and how he’s proven to be everything I want in a man. Even when I wasn’t looking for someone.
He’s good and thoughtful. Smart and funny, in a grumpy kind of way. He’s a hard worker and a good role model for my boys.
And he’s so handsome, so sexy, I can barely keep my hands to myself.
But what I like most about Jay is how he makes me feel. Interesting. Beautiful. Important. And, although he hasn’t said it, maybe even loved.
I might mention, too, that if given time for things to grow, I might be able to love him with my whole damn heart.
“You make me happy,” he says, kissing my forehead.
The boys race down the steps, and we part. I immediately miss his body against mine and his hands around my waist. We share a smile before I turn to the stove.
“What’s he doing here?” Dylan asks.
I glance over my shoulder and take in his scowl pointed directly at Jay. Great. Freaking great.
“I invited him for dinner since I hit him in the face with a ball,” Carter says, climbing into his chair at the table. “I told him I have an arm on me.”
“How are you tonight, Dylan?” Jay asks.
“I’ve been better.” He sits across from his brother, keeping an eye on Jay. “So you’re here because my brother hit you with a ball? Do you not know how to catch?”
“He does,” Carter says, oblivious to the tension in the room. “He just took his eye off the ball. He’ll learn.”
I set a platter of hamburgers on the table next to the chips. I grab an extra plate, utensils, and a glass.
“Sit here, Jay,” I say, putting the items at the seat across the table from me.
“Thank you, Gabrielle. This looks delicious,” he says, sitting between the boys.
I get situated on my chair. “Carter, do you want to say grace?”
Jay swipes his hat off and bows his head. Dylan’s chin tucks against his chest, but he keeps an eye on Jay. I close my eyes and say a silent prayer that this goes well.
“Thank you, God, for this food. Thanks for everything,” Carter says. “Thanks for my mom and Dylan, most of the time. And thanks for Jay. And please help him learn how to play baseball.”
I peek up and find Jay watching me. He grins.
“And thanks for our old cat, Meow Mix. And please tell Daddy we said hi and that we miss him. Okay? Thanks. Amen.”
“Amen,” I say, releasing a breath. “That was nice, Carter. Good job.”
“I’m the family pray-er,” he tells Jay. “It used to be Dylan, but one time he said a bad word during the prayer, and Mom said, ‘ That’s it! Carter is the new pray-er. ’”
He shrugs, taking a bun from the package and adding a burger.
“How are you guys liking school?” Jay asks, making his sandwich.
“I love it,” Carter says. “I love my teacher and have lots of friends, and I get two recesses, which is the best thing ever.”
“Nice. What about you, Dylan?”
“Well, I’m flunking woodshop, which I didn’t want to take in the first place. They’re doing the math I did last year, so that’s boring as fuck.”
“Dylan, watch your mouth ,” I say, firing him a warning glare that he completely ignores.
“And the cafeteria food sucks,” he says without missing a beat. “It’s just peachy. Thanks for asking.”
Jay lifts a brow and takes a bite of his burger.
Carter goes on a tangent and leads us through his day, hour by hour. Jay listens, asking questions and nodding along. Dylan looks like he could spit nails. I want to go to bed and not wake up until morning.
I knew this wasn’t going to go without hiccups. I knew Dylan was going to resist Jay joining us for dinner. But I didn’t expect my son to be so prickly.
Still, if I block out Dylan’s attitude problem—which isn’t exclusive to Jay being here—and focus instead on the dynamic between me, Carter, and Jay, it makes my heart sing. It’s so nice having someone else here. It’s so nice having a man here. It’s so nice having Jay here.
And I think Carter agrees.
I glance at Dylan and catch him fuming quietly at me. I don’t think he’s on the same page as me and Carter.
“Hey, Dylan,” Jay says, setting his drink on the table. “If it doesn’t rain tomorrow evening, I will come by and hang the new light your mom bought for the front porch. Think you’ll be around to lend me a hand?”
“Nope,” Dylan says without looking at him.
“Oh. All right. Not a problem,” Jay says. He catches my eye and winces. “Do you need any help with your woodworking class?”
Dylan slams his hamburger down on his plate. “No. I don’t need any help with my woodworking class. I don’t want to help you hang anything. I don’t even want you here, but I don’t have a say in that, I guess, huh, Mom?”
“You are going to stop that right now,” I say.
What on earth is going on here? I’m bamboozled. Sure, Dylan can be a jerk face, as Carter says, but the last time he interacted with Jay, it was much calmer. Respectful, even. What changed?
“Why? Or what?” He rolls his eyes. “This is my house, too, you know. I think expressing my thoughts on unwelcome guests in our house is perfectly acceptable.”
“Well, I like him here,” Carter says, holding a chip in the air. “And I invited him, so shut up, Dylan.”
“Don’t say shut up , Carter,” I say, the back of my neck pinching. “And you, Dylan, can express your thoughts on anything you want as long as you’re respectful.” I wait until his eyes meet mine. “Knock it off. I mean it.”
He sits up taller in his seat. “I’m not a little kid like you think I am. I know what’s going on. I know this jackass—”
“Go to your room, now,” I say, fury and embarrassment filling my words.
“—is your new boyfriend—”
“Jay is your boyfriend?” Carter says, his jaw falling to the floor. “So cool!”
“—and you’re happily forgetting that our dad just died. And you moved us from our home, where Dad is, and now you’re trying to throw a pathetic replacement on us,” Dylan says, his voice rising.
“You’re my mom’s boyfriend?” Carter asks Jay.
I don’t dare to even look across the table at Jay. I can imagine what he must be thinking. Knowing his soft spot for situations involving single mothers and kids, I bet he’s ready to get up and bolt for the door.
And I can’t blame him. A part of me would like to join him.
“Do you want to talk outside, man to man?” Jay asks, his tone steady. “I’d be happy to do that.”
“ No , I don’t want to talk to you,” Dylan says, scooting his chair back. It squeaks across the floor. “I don’t even want you here.”
“Well, guess what. It’s not your choice,” I say, less cool than Jay. I’m racked with guilt, and logic, humiliation, and determination not to let my son ruin something good. “I’m not trying to replace your father, Dylan. But I am trying to live my life.”
“Do you even care about us? Or are you leaving us behind too?”
“Why are you being so mean, Dyl?” Carter asks.
My eyes fill with tears.
I don’t want to have this conversation in front of Jay. And I hate that we’re having it to begin with. I have avoided this for the last year, but this is what I need. I’m desperate for a life that’s mine—a reason to get up that’s for me .
The last couple of weeks have been the happiest I’ve been in a long time. Despite the mom guilt that comes along with every choice I make as a parent, I know, down deep, there’s nothing wrong with moving on.
“Do I even care about you? I love you and your brother more than the entire universe,” I say, the tears flowing down my cheeks. “But it’s time we start trying to move on, Dylan.”
“Are you serious?” he snaps back.
“Yes. It’s what your father would want,” I say.
“Convenient that you can speak for him since he’s not here to defend himself. What do you even know about what he would want? He divorced you.”
“He was my best friend for many years, Dylan. I knew him better than anyone, and the last thing I’d ever want to do is disrespect his memory. I’m not getting into our divorce because that’s none of your business. But your father and I loved each other, and I know he’d kick my ass if he knew I was letting you and Carter—and me, for that matter—sit around and stop living.” I wipe my face with a napkin. “You can believe that or not. But it’s the truth.”
“I choose not.”
Dylan stands and storms out of the kitchen, leaving the three of us sitting in his wake.
“He’s big mad,” Carter says. “Like, big, big mad.”
I need a moment to gather myself. But all I feel is Jay’s and Carter’s eyes on me.
Jay. He saw and heard all that. Damn it.
I look across the table. He smiles softly at me.
“Hey, Carter,” he says. “Does your mom ever let you eat in your room?”
“Sometimes. Not very often.”
“Does that sound like fun?” Jay asks.
“Yeah. Duh. I can play my game and eat my burger.”
I nod, then look at my plate.
“Why don’t you go ahead and eat up there tonight?” Jay says. “I’ll take it up with your mom.”
“Yeah!” Carter grabs his plate and flies to the steps. “Don’t yell at me, Mom! It’s Jay’s fault.”
The sound of his voice makes me smile, despite my aching heart.
“Well, that went worse than I imagined,” I say, my temple throbbing. “I’m so sorry you had to see and hear that.”
Jay sits back and sighs. “You know that none of that has anything to do with me or you, right?”
“Right.” I snort. “That has everything to do with me and a little bit with you, probably.”
“He’s in a bad spot. He’s a teenage boy with raging hormones who’s missing his dad. And he wants to do everything he can to protect his family. He sees me as a threat—like I’m going to be the guy that takes you, his last person on earth, away from him.”
Oh, damn. “I didn’t even recognize that.”
“I was a teenage boy once.” He rolls his eyes. “One that played varsity baseball and lettered for four years, despite what your youngest might say.”
That makes me smile.
We sit quietly for a while, listening to Carter’s footsteps above us. Finally, Jay sighs.
“Do you want me to go?” he asks. “I don’t want to leave you alone if you need me. But I also imagine you might want to talk to Dylan.”
“I do need to go up and talk to him. But, gosh, I don’t want to.”
Jay stands. “You go upstairs and wash your face. Take a second to calm down. Then go talk to him and remind him you aren’t going anywhere.” He stops beside me and kisses the top of my head. “I’ll put the plates in the dishwasher and the leftovers in the fridge. Then I’ll head home.”
I put my arms around his waist and nuzzle against his stomach. “Thank you.”
“It’s no problem.”
And then I think of Dylan’s words. “Convenient that you can speak for him since he’s not here to defend himself. What do you even know about what he would want? He divorced you.”
A million thoughts flood my brain. Is Jay right? Is Dylan saying all those horrible things because he’s trying to protect his family? Trying to make sure he doesn’t lose me?
The thought breaks my heart into pieces. I’ve never once considered that Dylan, or Carter, would be fearful of losing me too—especially not to another man.
But how can he consider Jay a threat? Jay has been nothing but kind and supportive to both of them. Dylan can’t seriously consider that I’d betray Chris’s memory ... can he?
With a heavy heart, I get to my feet and wish this night had gone differently. I have no idea what to say to Dylan. Not a clue. If Jay walked away from me now, I wouldn’t be surprised. Hell, I kind of want to walk away from me right now too.
Instead, Jay pulls me in for a hug. In his typical way, it exudes comfort and strength. It makes me believe that we’ll all get through this ... somehow.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” I say.
“I hope so.”
We share a smile before I head for the stairs.