22. Gage
Gage
T he familiar chaos of Sunday dinner at Trace and Delaney's farmhouse should have been comforting.
It had been awkward at first being in the middle of a family I wasn't sure I still belonged in.
But now, I could see why this was a tradition they'd created.
Because instead of being surrounded by awkward tension there was nothing but comfort and warmth here.
And even better, with Billie sitting across from me at the big oak table, sharing shy smiles and careful conversation, I felt like my skin was too tight and every nerve ending was on fire.
Yesterday's coffee had been a revelation.
An hour of tentative conversation that felt like the first real step toward rebuilding what we'd lost. When she'd mentioned family dinner, the yes had come so quickly it gave me hope that maybe she wanted this reconnection as much as I did.
Now, watching her laugh at something Cade said while helping him organize his baseball cards, I felt that dangerous emotion unfurling in my chest again.
"Uncle Gage," Cade said, dragging me back to the present, "are you gonna eat your potatoes or just stare at them?"
Heat flooded my cheeks as I realized I'd been watching Billie instead of eating. "Sorry, buddy. Just thinking."
"About what?" he asked with the directness only kids could manage.
"About how good your mom's cooking is," I said, which earned me a smile from Delaney as she adjusted baby Barrett against her shoulder.
The little guy was barely a month old but already showing signs of the Farrington stubbornness, refusing to let his mom put him down for even a second.
Blake was sitting next to him, making faces that kept earning what she declared to be his very first smile, while Xander helped Amelia with her spoon in an attempt to keep her mashed potatoes and carrots out of her hair.
It was pure domestic bliss and everything I didn't realize I'd been missing.
"So, Dad," Trace said, turning his attention to Jasper, who'd been unusually quiet throughout dinner. "How's the business expansion going?"
Our father looked up from his plate, something flickering across his expression that I couldn't quite read. "Fine. Good. The coastal markets are... different from what I'm used to."
"Blue Point Bay has such a charming art scene," Blake said casually. "I went up there last month for a gallery opening. Beautiful work from local artists."
Jasper went very still, his fork frozen halfway to his mouth. "Art scene?"
"Oh yes," Reece chimed in, her tone carefully neutral. "Apparently there's quite a thriving community up there. Artists, photographers, sculptors. Some of them have been there for decades, building their careers."
"I'm thinking of doing an event when the gallery opens, so I've been looking for talent in the area," Blake said, staring hard at her glass of water.
Something was going on and the girls weren't exactly being subtle about it.
I watched my father's face, seeing something shift in his expression. A flicker of what looked like longing, quickly suppressed.
"Jasper," Delaney said quietly, "is there someone in Blue Point Bay you've been thinking about?"
The question hung in the air, and I could feel the entire table holding its breath. Jasper set down his fork, his hands trembling slightly.
"Why would you ask that?" he said, but his voice lacked conviction.
"Because you look like a man with unfinished business," Billie said gently. "And sometimes unfinished business is worth finishing."
Jasper's eyes met hers across the table, and I saw something break open in his expression. "Caroline," he said quietly, like the name was a prayer he'd been afraid to voice.
This was the woman he'd fallen in love with.
The one he'd left to come home to us. I looked around the table trying to figure out if everyone else knew the story, but I wasn't getting anything from them.
I hadn't thought to discuss this with my brothers before now and I didn't know if what our father had confided in me was something that wasn't common knowledge.
"Caroline," Delaney repeated softly. "She's special to you."
"She was... she is..." Jasper stopped, running a hand through his graying hair. "It was a long time ago. Before I understood what I was giving up."
Jasper looked around the table awkwardly and I could tell this was a conversation he didn't want to be a part of.
"It's never too late," Booker said firmly. "Look at Gage. He came home after eleven years and we're all better for it."
"That's different," Jasper protested.
"Is it?" Xander asked. "You've been divorced for months now. You're free to make your own choices about who you want in your life."
"What if she doesn't want to see me?" Jasper's voice was barely above a whisper. "What if she's moved on, built a life without me?"
"What if she hasn't?" Blake said. "What if she's been hoping you'd find your way back to her?"
The silence stretched between us, heavy with possibility and fear. Finally, Jasper looked up, his eyes bright with unshed tears.
"I wouldn't even know how to find her," he said.
"We could help," Reece offered carefully. "If you wanted us to."
Jasper was quiet for a long moment, staring down at his hands. When he looked up again, there was something different in his expression. A tentative hope that reminded me of my own journey home.
He looked at me, a question in his gaze and I knew he was asking me if I was okay with this. We had a long way to go in our relationship but the fact that he was considering my feelings in this, when he clearly still had feelings for this woman, meant more to me than I thought he probably realized.
A lump formed in my throat as I nodded, realizing that I wanted this for him. I wanted him to finally have something real in his life. A love that Regina had never been able to give him.
He heaved out a breath, almost a sigh of relief or perhaps it was resignation before he looked at Reece.
"Maybe," he said quietly. "Maybe I'd like that."
The table erupted in gentle encouragement, everyone talking at once about road trips and phone calls and second chances. In the middle of it all, I caught Billie's eye across the table. She was smiling at me with something warm and proud, and it made my chest tight with affection.
"Actually," I said, raising my voice slightly to get everyone's attention, "I have something I wanted to ask."
The conversation died down, all eyes turning to me. My heart started racing, but looking at Billie's encouraging face gave me the courage to continue.
"The harvest festival is in a couple of weeks. We should all go, like we used to when we were kids," I said, my eyes finding Billie's across the table. "Billie, would you like to go with me?"
Her smile was radiant. "I'd love to."
"Great," I said, feeling like I might float right out of my chair. "It's a date."
The words slipped out before I could stop them, and I saw her eyebrows raise slightly. But she didn't correct me, didn't emphasize the friendship boundary we'd been so careful to maintain.
"It's a date," she agreed, and the warmth in her voice made my heart race.
Cade asked about the festival and Trace immediately launched into the story about me once laughing so hard that cotton candy came out my nose.
After dinner, I found myself on the front porch with Billie, the late evening air crisp with the promise of autumn. She was wrapped in one of Delaney's cardigans, her hair catching the golden light from the porch fixture.
"The festival's going to be fun," I said, trying to sound casual.
"I hope you still have good aim at the ring toss," she said with a smile that reminded me of being sixteen and trying to win her ridiculous stuffed animals.
"I guess we'll find out." I smiled as I flooded with memories of simpler times and every single one of them featured the beautiful woman beside me.
I realized then that she was in them all. Every single happy memory I had growing up always featured Billie at my side.
"Do you still want to come and see the house tomorrow?" I asked, leaning back against the porch railing so I could watch the way the evening sun caught her hair.
"Of course. I can't wait to see what you've done so far."
"Not much." I laughed. "Booker and Trace only let me supervise, but at least it's given me time to get all the plans drawn up."
"I can't wait to see them."
"I can't wait to show you them," I said, staring into her eyes and seeing the possibility of an entire future inside them.
We stood like that in silence, soaking in the peace of the evening and the comfort of being together again and it felt like this was a significant moment.
I was ready to promise her the world, and I hoped like hell that one day she'd be ready to accept it.