Chapter Thirty
Angie crossed the gravel parking lot and wrapped Ethan in a hug. “You’re sure you can be seen with me? It won’t sully your family name?”
“I deserved that,”
Ethan said as he gestured for her to go ahead of him into the vineyard.
“You deserve worse, but I suppose if I can forgive you for the time you threw a snowball at me and it was made entirely of ice, then I can forgive you for this.”
“I was seven.”
“And I forgave you.”
Angie stepped into the large open lobby and sighed deeply, her shoulders relaxing as her eyes scanned the space. “I haven’t been here since we were kids.”
“It hasn’t changed much.”
“By design, I’m sure.”
Ethan invited her to take a seat in one of the oversized leather armchairs. “I owe you an apology.”
She leaned back in the chair and crossed her legs, studying him with an amused expression. “Finally, we get to the good stuff. I love a good grovel.”
“I’ve never been great at trusting people. At opening up. And after everything that happened when Stephanie got pregnant… My therapist says I put too high of a value on other people’s approval because I learned acceptance was conditional on my not fucking up, and when I did fuck up, it cost me my family.”
“Your therapist, huh?”
Angie smiled. “Glad to see you’re finally exorcising those demons you’ve been carrying around.”
Heat rose in Ethan’s ears, but he shook it off. “The point is, all that stuff about you not coming to Reader Fest, about not letting this part of my life be associated with that part of my life, it had nothing to do with you or your books. That was all me and my shit.”
“Oh, Ethan, please, I’m well aware,”
she chuckled.
“You should come to Reader Fest. I don’t know if I’m ready to be there as Slade yet, but that shouldn’t stop you from attending.”
“Thank you. And don’t think I won’t be writing extra spicy dragon shifter scenes for you to narrate just to see you blush as pay back,”
she said, waggling a finger at the lingering redness in his cheeks. “But I know you didn’t drag me all the way down to Rhode Island to apologize, so spit it out. What’s on your mind?”
This time he couldn’t shake off the embarrassment coloring his skin. “Another thing I’ve never been good at is asking for help.”
She leaned forward, bracing her elbows on the knees of her tailored linen pants. “Now I’m intrigued.”
∞∞∞
Six weeks, three days, five hours, and twenty-seven minutes.
That’s how long it had been since Ethan had last seen Hannah. Within minutes of letting her go, he’d known it was a mistake, that he would regret it for the rest of his life if he didn’t fight like hell to get her back.
That the fight had begun without her knowledge in weekly therapy appointments and long, uncomfortable conversations with his parents and Tessa, well, that was something he hadn’t anticipated.
He just hoped he hadn’t waited too long.
Six weeks, three days, five hours, and twenty-eight minutes.
Hold on, city girl. I’m coming.
“Dad, are you listening?”
Tessa asked.
“I heard you the first time. Who’s the parent here, me or you?”
he said, taking the pastry box she offered to him and setting it on the kitchen counter.
“Sorry we’re late!”
Gavin called as he and Kyla pushed through Ethan’s front door.
Jamie swung Julie up onto his shoulders, the little girl’s giggles floating through the kitchen. “You’re fine. We’re still waiting on Baz and Sabrina.”
Ethan watched his friend and daughter dote on their child and his heart clenched in his chest for the millionth time since Hannah left, thinking of all the things he wanted with her, things he hoped she still wanted as well.
“We’re here!”
Sabrina appeared in the doorway followed by Baz. “Sorry, there was traffic getting back from my parents’ house.”
“I didn’t know you were going to be at your parents’ today. You didn’t need to rush back for this,”
Ethan said.
“As if we were going to miss game night, or the chance to wish you good luck,”
Sabrina said.
“Best if our visits with the Pages are kept short anyway,”
Baz added.
“Are Jo and Molly coming?”
Tessa asked.
Kyla shook her head. “Molly’s got a bunch of papers to grade and Jo couldn’t switch her shift at the bar. But,”
she turned to Ethan, “she said to tell you to ‘go get your girl, foxy’.”
Ethan rolled his eyes.
“Still don’t love that nickname,”
Tessa said with an exaggerated grimace.
“Caleb’s got some church thing but he sends his best,”
Gavin said.
“Caleb’s always got some church thing,”
Jamie added.
Gavin shrugged, reaching for one of the cupcakes Tessa brought. “That’s what happens when you’re a priest.”
The house filled with laughter, everyone talking over each other, as they filled plates in the kitchen and took them into the living room to kick off board game night. It wasn’t their usual night to gather, but Ethan wouldn’t be there for their usual night this week, and the guys had insisted they not skip it altogether.
“What are we playing?”
Ethan asked as he took his seat at the table in the corner of the living room.
“Trivial pursuit,”
Baz said reaching for the box.
“We have too many players,”
Ethan said.
“No, we don’t.”
Kyla took Julie from Jamie’s arms, tickling her under her chin. “I’m going to sit this one out. Julie and I have a date to take some pictures in the yard now that the flowers are blooming. The light right now is perfect.”
Ethan watched as they left through the back door, Kyla’s camera bag slung over one shoulder and Julie balanced on her hip, giggling all the way out the door. He had a good life, a house full of people who loved him, a thriving business. And he had never felt more alone.
“She looks good with a baby,”
Gavin mused. All eyes snapped to him. “What?”
“Are you two…trying?”
Jamie asked.
“No, not exactly trying,”
Gavin hedged, lifting the lid off the game box. “Not exactly not trying.”
Jamie whooped. Tessa squealed. Sabrina pressed her hands to her lips. Ethan’s stomach dipped, happiness and something a lot like envy swirling together.
“You two will have the cutest kid,”
Sabrina said.
“You can’t tell her I said anything.”
Gavin set a stack of game cards down in front of Sabrina with a pointed look. “We haven’t told Brodie yet.”
Baz leaned back in his chair, slinging his arm around Sabrina’s shoulders. “Brodie won’t care.”
“He might. It could be kind of weird for him to have a little brother or sister young enough to be his own kid,”
Gavin said.
“If he says anything, I’m sure your mother will knock some sense into him,”
Jamie said.
“He won’t,”
Tessa insisted. “If Dad had another kid, I’d be happy he was happy.”
Ethan’s stomach somersaulted. “You would?”
“Yes, of course! Why is that so hard to believe?”
He could picture it—a little girl with big blue eyes and an upturned nose, a baby asleep on his chest, Hannah singing a lullaby, all the little moments he’d missed the first time around.
“Julie would be older than her uncle or aunt,”
Gavin said.
“Just one more way our family would be unique,”
Tessa said.
“For someone who married his son’s ex, you’re way too concerned about age,”
Baz said to Gavin.
Six weeks, three days, five hours, and forty-three minutes.
Ethan pushed back from the table. “I need some air.”
He stumbled from the house onto the front porch, drawing in huge lungfuls of crisp spring air. He could see it all so clearly, the way things could be, the holes in his life even the best friends couldn’t fill. His chest ached with longing, and he braced himself against the railing.
“Dad?”
“I’m okay,”
he said, forcing himself to breathe.
Tessa’s hand fell on his forearm, squeezing lightly. “She’s going to be so glad to see you, I know it.”
“I hope you’re right.”