Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 82132 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 411(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82132 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 411(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
Carter screws up his face. “Sure. Make me tell him.”
“Go.”
He stomps up the stairs, expressing his frustration in every step.
I wait for him to disappear before I turn to Jay. I’m about to steal a kiss when I’m reminded of his black eye.
“Do you want some ice for that?” I touch the side of his face gently. “It’s going to bruise.”
He glances at the stairs before grabbing my hips and pulling me to him. “Are you sure about this?”
“I wouldn’t have asked you if I wasn’t sure.” I stand on my tiptoes and press a soft kiss against his lips. “It’s just a meal, and Carter invited you. Not me.”
“Carter said Dylan was being a jerk face to you.”
I grin. “The day ends with a y, so yeah, that’s true.”
“I don’t want to make things worse by being here.”
My heart stills. “Do you not want to be here?”
His crooked smile melts me. My heart starts beating again.
“Strangely, I want to be here,” he says, his voice just above a whisper. “But I’m not sure how you want this to go, and I don’t want to fuck this up.”
Footsteps sound from the floor above us. I swipe another kiss.
“This thing between us . . . I like it, Jay,” I say, watching his eyes lighten. “It makes me feel good. You make me feel good.”
“Sneak by tonight, and I’ll make sure you feel very good.”
I laugh. “It might be good for them to see me be happy.”
“And I make you happy?”
“You make me very happy.” I press my palms against his chest. “And it’s time they see that.”
If we were alone, I would explain all the things rolling around in my head—like how safe I feel with him. And how I notice the kindness he shows my children. I would tell him that I can’t wrap my head around how easily our lives have intertwined and how he’s proven to be everything I want in a man. Even when I wasn’t looking for someone.
He’s good and thoughtful. Smart and funny, in a grumpy kind of way. He’s a hard worker and a good role model for my boys.
And he’s so handsome, so sexy, I can barely keep my hands to myself.
But what I like most about Jay is how he makes me feel. Interesting. Beautiful. Important. And, although he hasn’t said it, maybe even loved.
I might mention, too, that if given time for things to grow, I might be able to love him with my whole damn heart.
“You make me happy,” he says, kissing my forehead.
The boys race down the steps, and we part. I immediately miss his body against mine and his hands around my waist. We share a smile before I turn to the stove.
“What’s he doing here?” Dylan asks.
I glance over my shoulder and take in his scowl pointed directly at Jay. Great. Freaking great.
“I invited him for dinner since I hit him in the face with a ball,” Carter says, climbing into his chair at the table. “I told him I have an arm on me.”
“How are you tonight, Dylan?” Jay asks.
“I’ve been better.” He sits across from his brother, keeping an eye on Jay. “So you’re here because my brother hit you with a ball? Do you not know how to catch?”
“He does,” Carter says, oblivious to the tension in the room. “He just took his eye off the ball. He’ll learn.”
I set a platter of hamburgers on the table next to the chips. I grab an extra plate, utensils, and a glass.
“Sit here, Jay,” I say, putting the items at the seat across the table from me.
“Thank you, Gabrielle. This looks delicious,” he says, sitting between the boys.
I get situated on my chair. “Carter, do you want to say grace?”
Jay swipes his hat off and bows his head. Dylan’s chin tucks against his chest, but he keeps an eye on Jay. I close my eyes and say a silent prayer that this goes well.
“Thank you, God, for this food. Thanks for everything,” Carter says. “Thanks for my mom and Dylan, most of the time. And thanks for Jay. And please help him learn how to play baseball.”
I peek up and find Jay watching me. He grins.
“And thanks for our old cat, Meow Mix. And please tell Daddy we said hi and that we miss him. Okay? Thanks. Amen.”
“Amen,” I say, releasing a breath. “That was nice, Carter. Good job.”
“I’m the family pray-er,” he tells Jay. “It used to be Dylan, but one time he said a bad word during the prayer, and Mom said, ‘That’s it! Carter is the new pray-er.’”
He shrugs, taking a bun from the package and adding a burger.
“How are you guys liking school?” Jay asks, making his sandwich.
“I love it,” Carter says. “I love my teacher and have lots of friends, and I get two recesses, which is the best thing ever.”