Chapter 8 Laken #2
He was young and maybe a little na?ve, but he handled himself with more loyalty and pride than most men could ever dream about.
And he wanted me. That thought brought a feeling of happiness that radiated inside of me.
This could be my life. I could be with him.
He could stay, and together, we could have something good.
As quickly as that thought came, another seeped in and filled me with fear. I never imagined that I would have that kind of happiness. I’d been through too much. I was too afraid to hope.
It’s easier to expect nothing than to let yourself believe you have a chance for something more and lose it. It’s just one disappointment after the next. But when I looked at him, I wondered if this time might be different.
Maybe it could work out. Maybe he’d meant the things he’d said, and maybe he’d stay. It was scary to hope for such things, but as I lay there staring up at the ceiling, I couldn’t help myself. I wanted this. I wanted him.
I shifted a little, nestling in the crook of his arm, and pulled myself closer.
And with that, I closed my eyes, and it wasn’t long before I drifted off to sleep.
The next morning, I woke to the smell of coffee and the feeling of an empty bed.
I rolled over with a stretch, scanning the room through hazy eyes, and found Thatch standing at the door with a cup of coffee in his hand.
“Morning,” he said with a lazy smile. “Morning.”
“How’d you sleep?”
“Like a log.” He walked over and offered me the cup of coffee. I took it from his hand as I asked, “How about you?”
“I slept ok.”
“Just okay?”
“Well, I was snoozing pretty well until the snoring started.”
“Snoring?” I gasped, sitting up in bed. “Are you saying I snored?”
“Like a lumberjack.”
“Oh, my God.” My mouth fell open with mortification. “I’m so sorry. I had no idea.”
“Don’t sweat it, babe. I sleep at the clubhouse with guys who snore ten times louder than you ever could.”
“That doesn’t make me feel any better.”
“Pfft, it’s no big deal. I’d be more concerned about the talking in your sleep thing.”
“Do what?”
“Ah, yeah. You are quite the chatterbox. I couldn’t make out what you were saying. Hell, for a minute, I thought you were talking Mandarin.”
“Oh, you’re messing with me now.”
“Afraid not.” His smirk widened. “And your leg was doing this weird twitching thing. You should probably get that checked out.”
“Thatch.”
“It’s better than passing gas.” He was fighting hard to bite back his laughter as he said, “But actually, I’m pretty sure you did that, too.”
“I did no such thing!”
“Nah, you didn’t.”
“You’re gonna pay for that.”
“I’ll look forward to it.” He leaned down and kissed me on the forehead. “But I gotta say, I was glad to see you were getting some sleep.”
“You’re still gonna pay.”
“Counting on it.” He motioned his head toward the clock as he said, “Now, get to moving. We need to go get knot-head before she decides to move in with Jenna and Pop.”
“That is a possibility,” I giggled, tossing back the covers. “But you don’t have to go. I can run over there myself.”
“I don’t mind.” He cocked his brow. “Unless you’re ready to get rid of me, and if that’s the case, I can…”
“Not at all.”
“Good. Then, let’s get to it.”
As soon as I was dressed, Thatch and I got in his truck and drove over to Grim and Jenna’s.
We’d barely parked the truck when Baylor and Luna came scrambling out the front door like little hurricanes.
Jenna and Grim followed after them, and they both seemed to be in good spirits.
I hoped that meant they’d had a good night.
“She survived!” Thatch cheered, lifting Baylor into his arms. “Did you have a good night?”
“I not ready to go.”
“So, you had fun, huh?”
“Um-hmm.” Baylor gave me a pout. “I wanna stay.”
“I know, sweetie, but we have things to do today, and I’m sure Jenna and Grim do, too.”
“Your momma is right,” Grim interjected. “But don’t sweat it. We’ll be seeing you guys on Thursday.”
“Thursday?”
“Thanksgiving lunch at the clubhouse,” Grim answered. “You guys are coming, right?”
“Oh, I don’t know.” I’d totally forgotten that Thanksgiving was coming up. Not that it would’ve mattered. I hadn’t really celebrated it since Baylor was born, and I thought this year would be no different, until now. I glanced over at Thatch. “We haven’t really talked about it.”
“We’ll be there,” Thatch answered, turning his attention back to Baylor. “Which means you can spend all afternoon hanging out with Luna and eating the best pie you ever put in your mouth. How does that sound?”
“I like pie.”
“Well, you can have all you want on Thursday.”
“And this is at the clubhouse?”
“Yeah, the guys go all out.” Thatch shrugs. “The holidays are always a big thing with the brothers. Kids running around, food for days, and a bonfire out back. I should’ve told you about it sooner.”
Oh.
This was big.
I would be meeting his brothers. His family.
They would see us as a couple. The thought made my chest tighten in a way that felt terrifying and tender all at once.
Before I could respond, Baylor gasped like someone had just announced that Santa would be there.
Thatch smiled and said, “No pressure, but I’d like you guys to be there. ”
“Then, we’ll be there.”
“Good deal.” Thatch lowered Baylor to the ground as he said, “Why don’t you go tell Luna goodbye and thank her for a fun night?”
Baylor nodded, then darted over to Luna. While they talked, I turned to Jenna and said, “Thank you so much for keeping her.”
“Anytime.” Jenna smiled. “And I mean that. I know how hard it can be when they’re little and you’re trying to date. It isn’t easy.”
“No, it’s not. Thanks for the offer. Luna is welcome to stay with us, too.”
“Oh, we will definitely be taking you up on that,” Grim scoffed. “Soon. Very soon.”
We all laughed, and in a blink, we were back in Thatch’s truck, driving back to the apartment.
Baylor’s little feet swayed to the rhythm of the song in her head, and Thatch was holding my hand like he’d done it a million times before.
This was the kind of ordinary moment I used to pray for, and now, it was part of our norm.
Thanksgiving.
The word drifted through my mind like the leaves falling from the trees.
This year would be different for us. It wouldn’t be leftovers or a microwavable TV dinner.
There would be turkey and dressing, and people sitting with us at the table.
I wouldn’t have to pretend that life was grand when it really wasn’t.
It would be a real Thanksgiving, and this year, I had so much to be thankful for. I had a car that ran, a job where I made more than I ever dreamed of making, and a wonderful daycare for Baylor. And I had it all because of Thatch.
“You okay over there?”
“Um-hmm,” I mumbled. “I was just thinking.”
“About?”
“The night my car broke down.” I could feel the tears welling in my eyes as I said, “If you hadn’t seen us…
if you hadn’t stopped… We wouldn’t be here.
None of this. I wouldn’t have my car or my new job.
Baylor wouldn’t have a new best friend. And I wouldn’t have met you, and we wouldn’t be sitting here right now. ”
“But I did see you, and I did stop.” He gave me a warm smile. “And given the choice, I’d stop again. A hundred times over.”
I looked at him, and when I saw the sincere look in his eyes, something settled in me. Something that felt like hope and love mixed together, and it was wearing a crooked smile and a leather jacket. And for the first time in a long time, I felt like the holiday might actually feel like one.
Not because everything in my life was perfect. It was far from that. But because we weren’t alone anymore. For the first time since Baylor had been born, we had someone to share it with.