Stuck With You

Chapter 48

SLADE

“This is not acceptable. She’s denying all calls, and we have nothing to do with this.” Trig cuts a hand through the air. “We’re guilty by association.”

“Yeah, and we like her better. If we have to choose sides, we pick hers.” Wind puts his hands on his hips.

I roll my neck, not needing this again . It’s constant with these idiots. They’re worried about Krissy, and I appreciate that, but I can’t handle their drama on top of my own feelings.

“I’m renting one of those planes with the banner that says, ‘We choose you, Krissy.’” Trig moves his hand through the air.

I groan.

“I went by her townhouse this morning and waited for her until she got home. She told me to get lost.” Carson tosses a rag on the workbench.

I shake my head. “Thanks for checking on her.”

“She’s talking to Millie. At least that’s good,” Wind offers.

“Maybe she’ll talk to me,” Luke says.

We all turn to look at him.

He shrugs. “I’m new. I don’t have anything to do with whatever is going on.”

Carson glares at him. “She won’t talk to you. You’re just a kid.”

“Thanks,” I tell Luke. “I’m the one who needs to talk to her.”

“Yeah. We see how well that worked out,” Trig grumbles .

“Well, she texted me and told me to tell you all to back the hell off.” Luke holds a hand up. “Her words, not mine.”

We stare at him.

“She messaged you?” Carson’s question is full of irritation.

“Yeah. She said she knows the rest of you don’t listen.” Luke says it so innocently that it almost makes me laugh.

Krissy is as stubborn as they come. She’s angry and hurt, but I really need her to talk to me. It’s been a week. She’ll let me have it, and we can move on. Sarah keeps telling me to give her time, but I need to know how long that will be.

Thankfully, she hasn’t removed me from tracking her location, so I can be sure she makes it home each morning and night.

“I’m taking her some pot roast and vegetables to be sure she’s eating,” Wind says.

The guys scoff.

“What? Millie hasn’t asked her that, and women stop eating when they’re in an emotional state.”

“No, asshole. She eats ice cream and sugary cereal,” Carson says as if his last nerve is spent.

I look at him, wondering how in the hell he knows what Krissy eats when she’s upset.

“Well, even better. She needs a nutritious meal and to know we still love her.”

“I bet she’s fully aware you still love her with all the smothering,” Luke says dryly.

“We aren’t smothering her. We just have to be sure she’s ok. It’s how we operate here,” Carson says, crossing his arms.

“Call it what you want.” Luke waves. “I’ll see you all tomorrow. Let me know if I can help.”

“I’m heading out. The Crock-Pot’s been simmering all day, and I’m taking it over tonight. She needs more than sugar.” Wind is a force to be reckoned with.

“Thanks,” I say, and he salutes.

Trig follows him out .

Carson drops his screwdriver. “Shit!”

“I can’t make her talk to me.” I cross my arms.

“I know. I just hate that she’s hurting alone,” he says softly, but it feels like more than that.

“When are you going home?”

His gaze meets mine. “In a few minutes.”

I stare at him, knowing he spoke to his brother, but I don’t know exactly what they discussed. “That’s not what I mean. It’s time, man. Rip off the Band-Aid and face the fear.”

He points at me. “You worry about your mess, and I’ll worry about mine. I’ll go when I’m good and ready.” Carson’s calm, cool state is ruffled.

“It sucks when the shoe is on the other foot, doesn’t it?” I smile, and he flips me off as I head to my office. “Let me know if you want to talk about it.”

I hear him grumble something on his way out the door.

I shut the computer down and lock up, ready to spend the evening with Sarah and the kids.

______

“Swade, wook!”

Ollie stands on his chair with a red, plastic fire hat on his head.

I shrug my coat off and untie my boots.

“N-nick’s dad came to school today. He’s a f-firefighter.”

“That’s cool, partner.” I adjust the hat falling over his eyes. “Did you learn about safety and what to do if there’s a fire?”

He grins and nods. “Yep. We gots to make sure our p-protectors are working.”

Sarah smiles at me, turning back to the counter to shred chicken. She’s wearing those damn skin-tight black leggings and a cropped sweatshirt that hangs off her shoulder. It takes everything in me not to slide my arm around her, haul her to the other room, and kiss her until she melts into me .

I’ve waited all day to be here with them.

I’ve spent every evening here for the last week, and each night after the kids are in bed, we sit on the couch and talk.

Sarah curls into my side, and thoughts of making good on my promise to carry her to bed consume me.

I want Sarah desperately, but I won’t rush it or her.

I want forever, so I’ll take all the nights on the couch, just talking and her teasing me until we get there.

She glances over her shoulder, catching my eyes running over her body. That flirty smile appears, making those thoughts roar to life and heat shoot through my veins. She turns away, her cheeks turning the tiniest bit pink as if she knows exactly what I’m thinking.

Sarah sets a plate in front of Ollie. “They’re actually called detectors.”

Ollie stutters it out, trying a few times. Sarah has been working with him and enrolled him in a speech program for the spring. It’s slow, but he’s making progress.

Frankie smacks her tray, wiggling to get my attention. I run my hand over her head as she shoves a fistful of mac and cheese into her mouth.

“How was your day?” Sarah hands me a plate.

“The guys are going to drive me to a firing spree. It’s nonstop about Krissy.”

She laughs. “She’s still not talking to anyone?”

“No, and their frustration isn’t helping anything.”

Her arms slide around me, and I pull her close with my free arm. Her head rests against my chest. “Patience, big guy.”

I groan. “I don’t have that.”

“Me either,” Ollie says with a mouthful.

Sarah laughs, releasing me.

“Me. Me. Me,” Frankie says, agreeing.

“Sounds like you three need to read Caps for Sale again tonight. That peddler wasn’t getting his hats back, yelling at those silly monkeys.”

Ollie giggles. “The monkeys are sn-sneaky.”

Frankie shakes her fist, mimicking the angry peddler .

“See, Frankie gets it,” I say.

“And yet, look how far that got him.” Sarah smiles that beautiful smile, spreading pure joy through my chest. The kind so radiant it’s almost painful.

We eat dinner, and the kids take turns in the bath. I help Ollie find his pajamas, and he tugs his shirt over his head, plopping down on his butt and bouncing when he’s finished.

“Nick’s dad was really c-cool,” he says softly. His eyes lift to mine. “My dad doesn’t like how I t-talk. He thinks I’m dumb.”

I pause. Ollie hasn’t ever mentioned his dad before, and Sarah has only said he doesn’t ask about him. I know from experience that just because you don’t say it doesn’t mean you aren’t thinking about them.

I kneel beside his bed. “You know you’re not, right?” His sad eyes meet mine, and a rage ignites for whatever his dad has said to make him feel that way.

“I have to be slow with my words.” He tries really hard not to stutter, meticulously pronouncing each one.

“Yeah. So.” I shrug. “It’s like tying your shoes. You know how long it took me to be able to do it.”

He shakes his head.

“Forever. All the other kids could, but I still had to have help. They made fun of me for having to ask the teacher to tie my shoes because I couldn’t. Said I was a baby.”

“I can’t t-tie my shoes.”

“Not yet, but you will. And the more you practice talking slowly and carefully, the better you’ll get at it.”

“I’m already getting b-better.”

“Just think where you’ll be a month from now.”

His head dips to his shoulder. “How long is dat?”

I huff a laugh, and he settles his hands in his crossed legs.

“Can you come t-t-talk to my class about c-cars?” His shy eyes focus on his hands. “My dad doesn’t wive here. He wouldn’t want to.”

I still, knowing this is important, and do not want to screw it up. “Definitely, but let me talk to your mom about it. Ok? ”

He nods, grinning. “Mama wikes you.”

I ruffle his hair, and he pops up, jumping off the bed. Grover barks, following him to the living room.

“I hope she more than likes me,” I mumble.

I sit in the recliner, and Ollie digs through the basket of books. Frankie toddles over in her soft footie jammies and tries to climb up my legs. I breathe in her clean baby scent, lifting her over my head, and she giggles.

I set Frankie on one leg, and Ollie climbs up on the other.

“Not the crabby peddler again,” I groan, and Ollie scrunches into a ball, grinning ear to ear.

We’ve read this book the past three nights while Sarah sits on the couch working on schoolwork.

I growl as the peddler yells at the monkeys, and the kids join in. Frankie waves her fist in the air, chanting gibberish.

I glance at Sarah, and she’s watching me. She smiles, but it’s not the full deal. She blinks, and whatever is in her eyes is gone, but my stomach squeezes tight.

Once she’s asleep, Sarah carries Frankie to her crib, and I take Ollie, whose head bobbed as we finished the last book.

I lie him in his bed, and he grips my neck, hugging me.

“Can we go to the p-p-park tomorrow?” His sleepy voice whispers.

I want to say yes, even in the cold and snow. I want to tell him I’ll come to his school and that I’ll be there for every other thing as long as he wants me there. I want to give him what I never had, but I’m not in a place to do that.

“I think you should get some sleep.”

He hugs my neck tightly. “I wove you, Swade.”

I close my eyes, sealing his words up tight, wanting to hold onto them. “Good night, partner.”

I straighten and turn to find Sarah in the doorway, her head resting against it. Her gaze holds mine, and it’s that look again. My gut pinches, but I shove it away, dismissing the worry building .

She grabs my hand, and I follow her to the couch. She drops down onto it, and I sit beside her just as we have each night.

She rests her head on my shoulder, and I link her hand with mine, needing the closeness.

“Did Kat have any news today?”

She shakes her head. “She sent the letter responding to the petition. She’s hoping it will scare Miles off, but he’s not easily intimidated.”

I just need five minutes alone with that asshole.

I know there’s so much more than what Sarah has told me, but Ollie saying that his dad thinks he’s dumb was enough.

Kids don’t just come up with stuff like that on their own.

He must have said something, and that alone makes me want to rip his damn head off.

“Ollie asked if I could visit class.” I lay it out there carefully, not wanting to disappoint him but also needing to know what Sarah thinks about it.

She lifts her head. “He did?”

I nod, and she doesn’t say anything.

“What did you tell him?” Her question is soft.

“I told him I needed to check with you.”

She exhales, and that nugget of worry resurfaces. “We need to be careful.”

“About what?” It comes out a little bluntly, but I can’t help it.

“I don’t want him to get confused or . . ”

I’m not sure what there is to be confused about. I shift, sliding my hand from hers, all defenses locking into place.

She stares at me. “Hey.” She snatches my hand back. “I just want to be sure we’re on the same page with all of this.”

The same page. I don’t know what in the hell that means, but I know I can’t take one more thing right now.

“Sarah, what does that mean?” I ask straight up.

She frowns, most likely at my tone. “You and me is one thing, but Ollie and Frankie don’t know anything other than you being here. They’ll begin to expect it and . . .”

She trails off as if waiting for me to say something .

“I am here.”

She nods slowly. “Yes, but this is a big deal.”

Hell yes, this is a big deal, but I’m here. I’ve been here. Why is she pushing me away?

“We just . . .” She starts but stops. “I have to know what Miles is going to do, and then we can figure out what’s best.”

What’s best is that asshole falls off the face of the earth, and Sarah and the kids stay here with me. Always.

I nod slowly, but my body goes rigid. I do my best not to be a jerk, but frustration fills me when she’s shielding herself and the kids from me. At least that’s what it feels like, and fear rears its ugly head.

I try not to be completely distracted, but for the next thirty minutes, I can do nothing but battle the worry taking hold. I need to sort it out before it sucks me under.

“I should go.” I push off the couch, but she doesn’t move.

She stares up at me and then slowly follows me to the door. I reach for my coat, but she grabs my arm.

“What’s wrong? Tell me.”

I shake my head. “Nothing.” I won’t push Sarah to be ready for something she’s not. Her job is to protect her kids. I just never wanted her to feel like she had to protect them from me.

She slides her arms around my waist, and I pull her close, wanting her to tell me what she’s afraid of. The annoying thing is. . .I’m scared, too.

I rest my chin on top of her head. Miles put her through hell. I can’t blame her for being wary.

I inhale, taking in the feel of her as she’s trying to reassure me. I need patience, but I’m no fucking good at that.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, ok?” I need a minute to get my head straight and try to figure out how to be afraid in all of this with her.

She lifts her head, her chin resting against my chest. “You sure you’re ok?”

I stare into her eyes, so incredibly extraordinary, I’m not sure I’ll ever fully be used to them.

Three words I never thought I’d say again are on the verge of spilling out. I hold them back, protecting myself from not hearing her say them in return.

“Yeah, I’m sure.”

I lean down and kiss her lips lightly, then pull on my coat to go home. I carry myself through my house to the shower. It’s not where I want to be. I want to be back with Sarah on her couch or, better yet, in her bed.

I rest my hands against the shower wall, hearing the guys call me out for not telling her straight up that I love her. I do. So incredibly much.

But what if her hesitation is because she isn’t quite ready to love me back?