Chapter 32 #2
Beck lifts his head and looks at me instead of Alex.
"I also know that you got ignored a lot.
By me, by our parents, by everybody who was supposed to be watching out for you.
" His throat bobs as his gaze flicks to Alex.
"I'm glad someone has her interests at heart.
Even if that someone is a pain in my ass. "
Alex nods. "I can work with that."
Rosie's tummy grumbles loud enough for everyone to hear. She looks down at her stomach and then up at me with an expression of deep betrayal.
"I think we should eat," I announce. "Before this one stages a revolution."
"I could throw some steaks and chicken on the grill," Alex says, already standing. "There's salad stuff in the fridge, and potatoes we can prep."
“You got a grill?” My dad perks up at the mention of grilling. "I'll help."
"Excellent. Dan, you're on steak duty." Alex claps my dad's shoulder and steers him toward the kitchen. "Beck, can you scrub and microwave the potatoes and get them ready for the grill?"
Beck catches the bag of potatoes Alex tosses them one-handed, because he's still a professional athlete even when he's sulking. "Fine."
My mom and I claim the kitchen counter and start assembling a salad. She washes lettuce while I slice tomatoes and cucumbers. Gordie positions himself directly underfoot in case anyone drops something edible, which my dad does twice within the first three minutes.
"Your boyfriend is very organized," my mom observes, watching Alex season steaks through the window. "Does he always take charge like that?"
"Pretty much always." I toss some cherry tomatoes into the bowl. "It's one of his more annoying qualities."
"Annoying?" She arches a brow. "Honey, a man who grills for your family without being asked is not annoying. That's husband material."
"Mom." I give her a look. "We literally just had the most serious conversation of our lives ten minutes ago and you're already matchmaking?"
"Multitasking is a mother's gift." She sniffs. "Besides, I need something happy to focus on. Let me have this."
I shake my head but I'm smiling. My mom drives me crazy, but she's here. She showed up. She listened without making it about herself, which might be the first time in my adult life that's happened.
Outside, Alex has the grill fired up and he's showing my dad where the tongs are while simultaneously directing Beck on how to wrap the potatoes in foil.
Rosie has abandoned her sticker book and is sitting on the deck with Gordie, telling him a very elaborate story about a princess who rides a dragonfly to school.
Beck wraps potatoes in silence, his expression still tight. But when Rosie wanders over to show him a sticker, he softens immediately, pulling her into his lap and kissing the top of her head.
I cut up an apple for Rosie and bring it out to the deck, setting it on the table beside her sticker book. “Thank youuuu,” she sings. She grabs a slice without looking up from her sticker, her other hand still buried in Gordie's fur.
I should probably say something about her washing her hands, but if Beck doesn’t notice, I guess it’s fine.
My dad hovers near the grill, watching Alex flip steaks with the singular focus of a man determined to learn something. "You know, Alex, I used to grill a mean brisket back in the day."
"Is that right?" Alex doesn't look up from the grill. "I'd love to hear about it, Dan."
That's all the invitation my dad needs to launch into a fifteen-minute monologue about smokers, rubs, and the time he almost burned down the neighbor's fence during a Fourth of July cookout.
Alex listens and nods and asks follow-up questions at exactly the right moments, which is a skill I've watched him use with reporters, sponsors, and fans for over a year.
Right now, he's deploying it on my father, and it's working flawlessly.
Beck catches my eye through the window and shakes his head slightly, like he can't believe Thorne is charming our dad with brisket talk. I shrug and mouth "just let it happen." Beck rolls his eyes but the corner of his mouth twitches.
Progress.
When everything is ready, and the table on the back deck is covered in steak, grilled chicken, salad, and crispy potatoes, I slip away. Alex is in the laundry room grabbing extra napkins, and I corner him against the dryer.
He looks down at me, surprised, as I grab the front of his T-shirt and pull him close. I kiss him, slow and deliberate, tasting the beer he's been sipping and the faint char of smoke from the grill. His hands find my waist and he pulls me tighter.
"What was that for?" he murmurs against my lips.
"For today. For the grill and the steaks, and for letting my dad talk about brisket for fifteen minutes without losing your mind.
" I smooth my palms against his chest. "For having my back in that conversation.
For not trying to fix it or fight it or make it about you.
" I kiss him again. "You made today so much easier than it had any right to be. "
He tucks a curl behind my ear. "Always, Freckles."
His blue eyes are soft in a way that he saves for me. Just me. Not the cameras, not the press, not the fans. This version of Alex Thorne exists only in the spaces where nobody else is watching, and I'm the only person in the world who gets to see it.
"I love you," I tell him. Because it's true, and because I can say it now without my voice shaking, and because he should hear it as many times as I can manage.
"I love you too." He drops a kiss to my forehead. "Now come eat before your dad tells Beck the fence story, and we lose them both to a brisket argument."
I laugh and take his hand. We walk out to the deck, where my family is already seated, Rosie in Beck's lap eating apple slices, my mom pouring herself a glass of wine, my dad eyeing the steaks with the hunger of a man who has been emotionally wrung out and needs protein immediately.
Gordie parks himself under the table, positioning his massive body across as many feet as possible, ensuring maximum tripping hazard when we all get up.
Alex pulls out my chair and I sit, looking around the table.
My mom is complimenting the salad. My dad is already cutting into a steak.
Beck is letting Rosie steal bites of his chicken while pretending not to notice.
Alex settles into the chair beside me and his hand finds my knee under the table, warm and steady.
This is my family. Complicated, imperfect, annoying, and mine.
And the man beside me, with his tattooed arms, and his giant dog and his houseboat on Lake Union, fits into it like he was always supposed to be here. Like the empty chair at the table was waiting for someone exactly like him.
I need to make this man an official part of my family. Sooner rather than later.
Not today. Not with everything still raw, and Beck still processing, and my mom on her second glass of wine before the potatoes are done. But soon.
Because Alexander Thorne is the best thing that has ever happened to me, and I'm not letting him go.