Chapter Twenty-Seven
Gwen
I cussed under my breath as I watched Truett walk through the heavy iron door of the county jail. He scanned the parking lot, looking for my car as I sat there trying to figure out if I was more pissed or concerned to be picking up one ex-husband after he’d stolen my car and gone to pick a fight with my other ex-husband.
I mean, seriously. How was this my life?
I didn’t know all the details of what had gone down, just that there had been some kind of altercation at Jeff’s office. He’d called me and told me a wild story in which he was as innocent as a choir boy and Truett was a maniac who had broken his nose. But Jeff was about as reliable as a snake in the grass, so when I tried to question him, he resorted to yelling and blaming me for the entire thing. I only let him call me a lying whore once before I hung up on him. So yeah, that was fun.
I’d immediately called the police station, where they had confirmed that Truett was in custody, but they wouldn’t tell me anything else. So then I called Dylan, who gave me the number of her uncle’s best friend’s brother who just happened to be a bail bondsman. She assured me he could figure it out.
And then finally, thirty minutes earlier, I’d gotten a call from Truett asking me if I could come pick him up from the jail.
It was safe to say my nerves were shot.
Truett finally spotted me and gave me a chin jerk before heading my way. He walked over with his head high and his back straight, no sign of injury to his face. Though, based on nothing more than my knowledge of the two men, I didn’t assume it would be Truett who’d left bruised and battered.
“Hey,” he said as he pulled the passenger-side door open and folded his large body into my SUV.
I pressed my lips together and bit the inside of my cheek, hoping to find some composure. But seriously, I was picking up one ex-husband after he’d stolen my car and gone to pick a fight with my other ex-husband. I was way, way, way too old for this shit.
My voice dripped with sarcasm as I smarted, “Well, hello, inmate seven-oh-seven. How were your adventures in lockup?”
He shrugged. “Pretty boring, actually. They made me sit in an office and refused to change the TV channel to anything other than old game shows. They did order burgers for lunch though, so I guess it wasn’t all bad.”
I blinked at him. “What? They didn’t throw you in the slammer and force you to use a communal toilet with all the drunks and criminals?”
He chuckled. “You look disappointed.”
“Uh, yeah. That’s because I am. I had to Uber to the impound lot, where they informed me they only took cash and the nearest ATM was a twenty-minute walk. So I had to call another Uber to take me there, get the cash, go back, and get my car, then drive across town to a bail bondsman’s office. And let me just tell you, that was an experience I never want to repeat.
“There, they too informed me they only took cash, so I had to drive to another ATM, where it denied my transaction because I’d already reached my daily withdrawal limit, so I had to call the bank, get that sorted out, and then finally drive back to the bail bondsman’s office, where I frantically begged them to get you out as soon as possible, all because I was worried out of my mind that they had locked you up in the slammer and forced you to use a communal toilet with the drunks and criminals.”
I was out of breath by the time I finished, but not out of frustration. “So yeah, I guess I am kind of disappointed you got to spend the day watching Family Feud and eating burgers.”
He flashed his eyes wide, his lips twitching with humor. “You done yet?”
I scoffed. “No! I just picked you up from jail. It’s going to be a long time before I’m done. I highly suggest you start talking before my anger turns to violence and I unleash the world’s harshest titty twister on you.”
His hands jumped to cover his nipples, but that damn man grinned at me. “Okay, okay. Relax. I’ll pay you back for the impound fees, and if you put your titty-twisting fingers away, Troy gave me back the bail money. It’s in my pocket.”
I slapped my hand on the steering wheel. “Who the hell is Troy?”
“He works for the bond company.”
“And they just gave you back the money? I’m pretty sure that’s not how bond works.”
“It’s a small town. I think they make their own rules. Besides, he’s friends with Don.”
“And Don would be who?”
He leaned back in his seat, getting comfortable, and extended his arm to prop his hand on my headrest. “The cop who arrested me.”
“Oh, so you guys are all buddy-buddy, on a first-name basis now?”
“Something like that. Hey, I need to go back to my place so I can change. I smell like burnt coffee,” he said with all the casual coolness of a man who’d asked me to pass the ketchup.
My temper finally snapped. “Jesus, Truett. Say something that makes sense. What the hell were you thinking, storming over there and punching him in the face?”
He lifted a finger. “First of all, I did not punch him. Secondly, I was thinking that he was a piece of shit and he needed to be treated as such.”
“He’s an attorney! He knows every judge in this town. You’re going to be lucky if he doesn’t convince them to try you for attempted murder at this point.”
He barked a loud laugh. “I hope that fucker does. They issued me a trespass warning and told me to stay away from him. I hardly think I’m headed to trial.”
Even more confused, I cupped my hand around my ear. “I’m sorry, what?”
“A trespass warning. It’s kind of like a ticket, I guess. I don’t know. I zoned out for a while when Don was explaining it. Don’t worry. It won’t go on my record or anything.”
I drew in a deep breath, trying to find a Zen that I wasn’t sure existed in a clusterfuck the size of the continental United States. “Could you please explain to me how Jeff ended up with a potentially broken nose and you only got a trespass warning?”
His grin fell. “Yeah, I don’t want to talk about that.”
I briefly wondered if anyone had ever sprained an eyelid from blinking too hard or if I was going to become the first. “Either you talk or you’re walking home. I’m not sitting in the dark on this one. And I dare you to ask me to.”
He held my challenging gaze for a few seconds before relenting. “Fine. Between me and you, I headbutted him. He deserved worse, but I was already in cuffs. Don recognized my name. His sister survived the mall that day, so he wasn’t real happy to be arresting me in the first place.”
I sucked in a sharp breath. “She was…there?”
“Yeah, and it made me uncomfortable as fuck to have him thank me. I only managed not to tear out of my own skin because it probably saved me felony assault and resisting arrest charges. After the shit your ex spewed, the whole damn police department was willing to turn a blind eye.”
I sucked in a sharp breath, the desire to ask the question almost as strong as the fear of hearing the answer. “What did he say to you?”
The leather of his seat squeaked as he shifted uncomfortably. “You gotta raise a kid with that man. I’m going to need you to trust me when I say that is not something you want to hear.”
“Oh, God,” I breathed.
Truett reached out and grabbed my hand. “Now he knows I’m at your back. And I’m going to sleep a hell of a lot easier because of it.”
As much as the caveman routine turned me off, there was something about the conviction in his voice that made my stomach dip. “I need you to promise me that won’t happen again.”
He let out a strangled laugh. “I can’t promise that, Gwen. You and me make this work, I see a lot of issues in mine and Garden Gnome Jeff’s future.”
I pulled my hand from his. “Then you and me are not making this work.”
His eyebrows shot up to his forehead. “Come again?”
“Truett, I despise that man. But he’s Nate’s dad. I swore to myself that, no matter what happened between me and Jeff, I would not let it affect Nate. Jeff is an awful human being, but I will not feed into that in front of my son. And I refuse to be with someone who can’t do the same. If we go the long run, you’re going to have to attend birthdays and graduations and weddings with that man. I can’t have you showing up and acting a fool because Jeff decides to act like the dick he will always be.”
He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Shit. I’m sorry.” Dropping his hand, he reached over the center console and intertwined our fingers. “I’m not gonna lie and say that I regret it, because I think that fucker deserved worse than I could ever dole out. But I hear what you’re saying and can respect that Nate’s more important than whatever feelings I may have about that prick. It won’t happen again.”
“You sure? Jeff is a master when it comes to slinging low blows and then playing the victim.”
“Oh, I more than learned that today. But yeah, I’m sure. I can keep myself in check. I can’t promise I won’t talk shit behind closed doors, but the last thing I want is to make things harder for you or your boy.”
Relief filtered through me. Had the roles been reversed, Jeff never would have been able to do the same. And I had a sneaking suspicion Jeff wasn’t going to be happy about Truett only getting a trespass warning, but I was very adept at blocking his phone number.
“I do like talking shit behind closed doors.”
Truett grinned, bringing our joined hands to his mouth. “I like doing anything and everything with you behind closed doors.”
My cheeks heated as I whispered, “I like that too.”
Chuckling, he kissed my hand. “You pissed at me or are you still good if I stay with you again tonight?”
I bit my bottom lip. “Two nights in a row? You sure you’re ready for that?”
His face got serious. “It’s weird. In order for Kaitlyn to exist inside that house, you have to be gone. I don’t know what happens from here. There’s a lot of stuff that needs to be done that I am nowhere near ready for, but I don’t want you to be gone anymore.”
I stared at him, hope swirling in my chest. I didn’t want to be gone anymore, either. “Okay,” I whispered.
“Can we swing by my place and let me grab some clothes?”
“Of course.” I flashed him a mischievous grin. “But just so you know, I am also still pissed at you because I got absolutely nothing done today. So if you’re staying with me, you better strap in and see if you can reset that internal alarm clock, because it’s going to be a late night working at the restaurant.”
“Fair enough.” He laughed.
We chitchatted on the way to his house, his hand anchored to my thigh the entire drive. He refused to tell me what Jeff had said, but he did give me a play-by-play of driving for the first time in almost two decades. Let’s just say it is not like riding a bike, and he had some seriously big opinions about auto manufacturers replacing the gearshift with buttons.
When I pulled up in front of his house, I put the car into park and then waited for him to get out. For a long moment, he sat there staring at the house. I had no idea what was going through his mind, but I gave him the time to work through it on his own.
His voice was gruff as he asked, “Do you ever think about the last time we saw each other?” He flicked his gaze from me to the house we’d shared all those years ago. “You said you’d hate me forever as you dropped your rings on the floor. The sound of them hitting the hardwood echoed in my living room for years.” He shifted in his seat so that his body was angled toward me and reached for my left hand. “I never imagined you’d change your mind.”
I sighed, the pain of that memory suddenly fresh as the day it had happened. “I didn’t change my mind, nor was that the last time I saw you.”
“What do you mean?” His thumb rubbed circles over the back of my hand as he watched me intently.
“It was the first Fourth of July after we lost Kaitlyn. I got a call in the middle of the night that you were passed out in front of that house those college kids used to rent every summer.”
Truett’s eyes widened. “Oh, God.”
My heart twisted as the memory of him lying in the grass, wearing nothing but a white T-shirt and ratty gym shorts slammed into me. He’d always been larger than life, a big man who had made me feel safe. But that night, when I’d arrived, he’d looked so small, as if the weight of his grief had physically caused him to shrink.
I swallowed the lump that had formed in the back of my throat. “They were doing what all twenty-something guys do: drinking and shooting off fireworks. Apparently, after you downed a bottle of whiskey, you stumbled over there yelling gibberish. One of the kids recognized you and made them stop the fireworks, and after that, you just sat down and passed out. Your phone was in your pocket and I was still programmed in as “Wifey,” so they called me instead of calling the cops. Some of the guys helped me drag you back to the house, and once you were settled on the couch, I locked the door and swore that I would never answer another call in the middle of the night again.”
Truett groaned, scrubbing his hand down his face. “Fuck. I don’t remember any of that. I was drinking a lot back then.”
“Okay, but you told me last night that you don’t drink anymore.”
He shook his head.
“Why not?” I asked.
“I don’t know. I guess I realized it didn’t help anymore. After a while, it just gave me more anxiety and made everything worse. So I quit.”
“Right. So I meant what I said that day, about hating you for the rest of your life. But you aren’t the same man I walked out on any more than you are the guy I had to drag off of the neighbor’s lawn.” I pushed my hand into his hair, gently scraping my nails on his scalp. “You’re trying to get better and I can see it. That’s all I’ve ever wanted from you, True. Effort. Just a little bit of effort.”
He wrapped his hand around the back of my neck, pulling my face to his, and softly grazed his lips over mine. “I’m trying, Gwen. I swear on my life, I’m going to keep trying every single day.”
His mouth was on mine in a flash, his tongue licking at the seam of my lips, begging for entry. I gave him what we both so desperately wanted. As our tongues rolled together, I relished the taste of his hunger for me. It matched my own desire for him, a fire he’d ignited a lifetime ago that had never been extinguished.
Fisting my hair, he anchored my head in place, deepening our kiss. He poured every ounce of regret for his actions that day, and all the days before, into me, his expert mouth reassuring me that he was working hard through his demons.
When he was finished apologizing through the warmth of his kiss, he gently pulled away, his eyes hazy and lust filled. The hand at the back of my head trailed down my arm before his fingers laced with mine.
“Go get your stuff.” I looked over his shoulder, dread filling me as I thought about him getting out of my car to walk into his house alone. A home that was filled with heartbreaking memories and utterly empty. I paused, weighing the likelihood of disappointment in his answer before I finally said, “Tomorrow’s Wednesday, True.”
He flashed me a tight smile. “I know. I’ll be with you. It’s okay.”
“And what about tomorrow night? I’ll have Nate, so I won’t be going to the restaurant.”
His forehead wrinkled. “Oh, right. Maybe you can drop me off before you pick him up?”
“Or, you can stay. He’s been begging for hot wings ever since Lucille introduced him to them. We could order dinner and just hang out.”
His eyes flared, uncertainty lining his brow. “Would that be weird—I mean, for him? Meeting the new man in Mom’s life?”
I laughed. “You aren’t new, silly. He knows who you are.”
“He does?”
“Truett, I didn’t erase you or Kaitlyn from my life. Nate’s always known about his sister, and in turn, her father. The two of you have never been a secret in my house.”
Truett’s fingers flexed in mine, his grasp growing even tighter. A sad smile crept across his face and I wondered if meeting my other child would be painful for him. Maybe I was putting too much pressure on him too soon? It had been quite the day of firsts for him already. Maybe this was one step too far.
“You can say no. The invitation is always open. It doesn’t have to be tomorrow.”
His strong shoulders rose as he drew in a deep breath. “I could go for wings.”
Relief mixed with excitement fluttered in my belly. “Okay, then. Grab enough clothes for two nights, I guess.”
He nodded, and I could tell he wasn’t completely comfortable with the idea, but no one could deny that the man wasn’t trying.
“I’ll be right back.” With a sweet brush of his lips across mine, he pushed the passenger door open and climbed out.
I rolled down the window, and as I watched him jog up the steps, I shouted, “Hey! You got any shirts with stripes? Maybe we could do a little guard and convict role-play!”