Chapter 3
THREE
Jack had tried for two weeks to get the courage up to just talk to Dalton. His damn cousin was right. This was ridiculous. They needed to sit down and just hash shit out.
But Dalton was avoiding him. Not making the drops. And Jack had a feeling he knew why.
So he finally texted late on the last night of his weekend.
There was a pause, then .
He knew Dal had the same number because Lena knew it by memory.
Please, Jack thought. Just say yes. He really needed this.
Shit, he didn’t want a divorce. He wanted to apologize and ask Dalton if they could start working shit out. He wanted the kids happy again.
But if wishes were horses then beggars would ride if Dal wasn’t into it.
His phone rang, and he damn near dropped it, Dal’s voice popping up. “Hey.”
“What’s wrong?”
“I just—” He took a deep breath. “I need to talk to you, Dal. Actually talk. We haven’t done that, and it was recently brought to my attention how damn dumb that is.”
“What do you want to talk about? I know about dumb.”
“I need to do this face-to-face.”
“Is it about the divorce?”
Jack blew out a breath. “More about a not-divorce, baby.”
“I—” Dal sounded all choked up. “I can’t do this—I can’t show my face in town.”
“Shit, baby, you amused everyone for days. When has anyone ever hid their crazy at the Rail?”
“God.” Dalton moaned. “Okay, lunch. But the girls…”
“We can get your sister to come sit with them.” That would give him a chance to look that woman in the eye and let her know he was still in this to win it.
“Okay. Okay.” Dalton sighed. “I’ll do it. Should we meet at the truck stop?”
The relief he felt was staggering. “Sure. That sounds great. The girls love their pancakes.”
“All right, but we’re not discussing anything serious, fair?”
“Sure.” Dammit. That was going to hamstring his ass, but he would agree to anything if Dalton would just sit with him. Talk.
Besides, once he had Dal there, it would be all over. They’d be talking. That’s what he needed.
“All right then.” Jesus, Dal sounded tired.
“How was your week?” Don’t go yet.
“Huh?”
“I asked how your week was, baby. Mine was kind of relentless, but at least I had the girls.”
“I worked, I guess. I mean, I try to put in a ton of overtime when I don’t have the kids.”
“Yeah.” That made sense. Dal wasn’t made of money, and he’d always worked himself to a frazzle when he was worried and couldn’t sleep. “How’s that going?”
“The painting? It’s a job. I haven’t fucked it up yet. It keeps me in mac and cheese and the apartment.”
“Well…” Shit, that had been a stupid tack to take.
“I heard Punkin ate the kids’ leftover pizza last time.”
He chuckled, reaching over to rub the silly little hound’s belly. “You need to meet her.”
“I’ve heard a ton about her. She’s apparently the best dog in history.”
“She’s a farting tube of sausage. I got her because you always said you wanted a dachshund.”
“Don’t be nice to me. Not now. I can’t even face you after the bar…”
“No. You had no idea.” He chuckled. “And Gabe was so damn amused.”
“Shut up. Just shut up. Did you bruise?”
“A little, yeah.” But by the time he knew that, he felt awful about what Gabe had said.
“Good. My ego was too.”
“Then we’re even, baby. So… I guess I should let you go.” He didn’t want to. He wanted to just talk, but he wasn’t sure how without seeing Dalton’s face, which gave away all his feelings.
“Why are you doing that?”
“What?” What had he done now?
“Calling me baby. Why are you doing that? You haven’t done that in months.”
“I guess I’ve had a lot to think about.” That Dalton had been jealous. That he loved that Dalton had been jealous. That he missed the man like a lost limb.
There was a long, pregnant pause, then Dal just said, “Huh.”
“Yeah. So I’ll see you for lunch, right?” It was damn important to him.
“I’ll be there. Eleven thirty?”
“Fine.” He hung up the phone and took a breath.
They’d had a conversation.
Together.
And no one screamed.
Dalton sat there in his truck, not sure whether he wanted to go in and wait, stay out here until Jack showed up, just drive away.
Well, he couldn’t do that. He was picking up his girls, but he could claim he was going to puke out a lung and cancel.
That was reasonable right?
He thought so.
But then the girls wouldn’t get their pancakes, and he would never hear the end of that. His sister was supposed to show, too, and she would kick his ass if he wasted her time.
God. He leaned down to bang his head on the steering wheel.
“What the everloving fuck are you doing, you idiot?”
Ah, Lissa—the light of his fucking life.
“I’m trying to give myself a concussion, of course, so I don’t have to have lunch with my ex.”
“He’s not your ex.”
“Shut up.” They were basically exes. Right?
“Well, he’s not. Now come on. We need to get that back booth for me and the girls.” She opened the truck door, yanking at him.
“Yeah, yeah. As if it’s going to be that busy at this time of day.” In fact, Jack had picked the time after the breakfast rush but before lunch.
“Are you going to sit close enough that I can hear?”
“No, you nosy old bitch. I don’t know what he wants. I said nothing serious. Maybe he wants me to sign papers, I don’t know.”
She blinked at him, her eyes the same blue as his. “Don’t you sign anything, brother. Nothing without me looking it over.”
“No. I won’t.” His heart hurt at the thought, and he wanted to barf, too. He was the one who had moved out, though. He was the one who hadn’t been able to live with Jack giving him a fucking ultimatum.
He just hadn’t needed to hear how bad he sucked, not when his legs still hadn’t worked.
He’d been terrified and sick, and he’d known he was never going to be the same.
Jack hadn’t cared.
Okay, maybe that wasn’t fair. Jack had been so scared, and Jack could yell when he was scared. Loudly.
Lissa snapped her fingers. “Brother? Hello? Wakey wakey!”
“Don’t. Be nice, now. I’m worried.”
“Well, I think Jack would have asked you to meet at an office somewhere if he had papers. The girls will only be just out of earshot, not out of sight. I see this as a telling sign.” She patted his arm. “I love you, you dork.”
“I know. I love you too.”
“You’d better. You’re buying, right?” She waggled her eyebrows at him as he opened the door for her.
“You’re the lawyer. You make way more than I do,” he deadpanned.
“Oh, fine! I’ll treat you and the girls.” She wrinkled her nose, her face so expressive. “But not him.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
“Daddy!” The door hadn’t quite closed when the girls pelted up to him, hand in hand. “We get pancakes!”
“Pancakes and Auntie Lis!”
“YAY!” They tackled his sister, making her oof.
“Hey, my perfect girls. I am so excited about pancakes and bacon.”
“Sawsaaaaage,” Effie yowled.
“Yes, you can have sausage.”
“Hey, y’all.” Jack walked up, having let the girls run once they were on the sidewalk and not the asphalt.
“Hey, Jack.” He nodded and smiled, trying not to panic.
“Hey.” Lissa just stared Jack down with her lizard lawyer stare.
Jack just beamed at her. “I love you too. Go order lots of food. I’m buying.”
“Dang. We should have gone someplace with booze.” She swept inside with the kids.
“Hey, baby.” Jack held the door for him.
“Thank you.” That baby thing was going to drive him insane. It made him itch, and it threatened to make him hard.
Dammit.
“No problem. How about over here?” Jack led him inside to a booth at the end of a row where they could see the girls and vice versa, but not be heard. “Have a sit.”
“Okay, sure.” His back grumbled as he plopped down, and he forced himself to keep a straight face.
“You okay?” Jack frowned, looking him over carefully. “You been working too much?”
“It was a long week. That’s all. How were the girls?” What do you want? What the hell are we doing here?
“They were great. They missed you.” Jack traced the edges of the paper placemat in front of him. “And I wanted to talk to you every night and tell you about it.”
He blinked. Was Jack fucking with him? What the hell was going on? “Why? What is going on? Do you have a tumor?”
“Huh?” Jack scowled. “No. No, but it was pointed out to me that we were being stupid.”
He frowned right back. “By who?”
“My cousin.”
“Well, I was being stupid that day, sure, but I had a good reason.” That reason might have been the bartender had texted and said said-cousin was dating Jack on Valentine’s Day when he was alone.
“Yeah. I yelled at Carl.” Jack chuckled. “He felt bad, if it’s any consolation.”
“I feel like an idiot. I’m sorry. If I ever see him again, I’ll apologize. I didn’t mean to embarrass him.”
“You’ll see him again. The Rail has those corn dog nuggets you love.” Jack reached over to touch the back of his hand. “You cared enough to come after my ass.”
“I was mad, not caring.” That touch buzzed all the way up his arm. “Furious.”
“I know. But that means you still do care.” Jack met his gaze. “So do I.”
He shook his head. So? What did it matter now? They were broken up, they were living apart, they’d fucked up.
“Did you hear me, Dal?” Jack leaned across the table, lowering his voice because there was always someone listening in a town this small. He knew it as well as Jack. “I care a lot. I don’t want a divorce.”
His heart started to thud. “What if it’s too late for that?”
“Why does it have to be?”
“Because we broke up! Because we have different houses. Because we fucked with our kids.” And because his heart hurt.
“No, you have a crappy apartment that you moved out to when I yelled at you.” Jack sighed, sitting back. “And I did go off the deep end, I admit it. But you scared me so bad.”
“You think you were scared? I didn’t know if I was going to be able to walk again. I wasn’t even home yet.” Jack had hurt him, deep.