22. Questions

22

Questions

A fter having the conversation we should have had before he spilled inside me, we decided to forego the condoms while I made a mental note to see the doctor.

He kissed me goodbye at the door shortly after so he could get home in time to collect Dylan from daycare. I barely had time to miss him. Right after dinner, he video called me with Dylan perched on his knee.

Grabbing a slice of privacy was all but impossible at Ayana’s, and Facetiming with me and the staff quickly became Dylan’s favorite evening activity.

I fell for her a little more every time I saw her sweet face.

I’d never met or spoken to her birth mother, but I was positive she must be some kind of wonderful to produce such a perfectly sweet child.

It was not a comforting notion.

On Thursday morning, Bridget, Noelle, Wren, and Harley landed on me at home to hammer out the last of the details for Nadine’s shower. I secured the booking at Ayana’s, and all that was left to do were the invitations.

Because the shower was at Ayana’s, all my duties revolved around organizing the menu and ensuring the room set up with Bridget’s help. Wren took charge of flowers and balloons as well as invites.

Noelle and Harley compiled the wish list and elicited Aaron’s assistance in getting Nadine to the restaurant on time.

They were also in charge of games.

God help us.

Bridget offered to put together a tiny box of chocolates for each guest to take home with them.

Daire was on standby to help transport gifts back home, while Max and Hawk volunteered to put the baby furniture together and in place to surprise her when she got home.

“And Kian?” Bridge challenged. “Where does he fit in?”

I’d thought about Kian a lot since Bridge first brought him up. With Aaron shutting him out, he really had nobody in Sage Ridge.

Wren’s face fell. “Aaron doesn’t want him involved.”

Bridge’s eyebrows flew up. “Is that fair?”

Wren shook her head. “It’s not. I don’t know what to do about it.”

Bridge softened. “Maybe you could talk to him.”

Wren threw her hands up. “I’ve tried!”

“What does he expect,” Bridge asked gently. “Isaiah will be in his life but not Kian? What kind of message does that send to Isaiah?”

Wren’s face blanked then settled. “That’s true. And that might work.” She met Bridge’s eyes, a question in her own.

Bridge held her hands up. “We’re just friends. I mean, he’s hot,” her face flamed as her eyes widened with her blurted admission, “but we’re just friends.”

Wren chuckled softly. “It wouldn’t bother me, you know.”

Bridge shook her head briskly. “It’s not relevant.”

“Well,” Wren teased, “should it ever become relevant? I have no objection.”

Bridge shook her off, but I wondered. It wasn’t the first time she’d shown concern for Kian.

My daily video call with Dylan eased some of the ache caused by the shower meetings. By the time I fell into bed shortly before midnight, I was good, counting the hours until Sunday morning when I’d see them both.

When I saw his text message on Friday afternoon asking me to call him, my heart hammered in my chest.

Phone calls like that rarely carried good news.

Hands shaking, I locked myself in my office and paced back and forth while dialling his number.

“Hey, Shae-baby.” His deep, warm voice flowed over my shattered nerves like a balm. Even still, I heard a hint of trepidation.

I froze in place. “What’s wrong? Is Dylan okay? Your parents? Oh, God, are you okay? Was there a fire? Where are you?”

“She’s fine, I’m fine,” he rushed to reassure me. “Nothing’s wrong, but something unexpected came up.” He took a breath. “Zoe’s here.”

“Zoe? Dylan’s mother?” I asked stupidly even while the photograph of that pretty woman laughing with Dylan in her arms settled into my brain.

I circled around my desk and sank into my chair.

“Yeah, Aunt Zoe to Dylan. She arrived last night—”

“Last night,” I repeated.

“Yes,” he answered carefully. “She didn’t tell me she was coming and booked a room at the resort. We had dinner together last night and she had a visit with Dylan.”

I braced my elbows on the desk, my head tipped down, eyes tracing the knicks and scratches on the wood. Why hadn’t he told me last night?

Did it matter?

My stomach sickened. “Last night,” I repeated stupidly.

Of course it mattered.

If it didn’t, he would have told me when he texted me before bed.

Unless…

“Shae?”

Where was Dylan when they had dinner? Where did they have dinner? Why did they go out without Dylan, wasn’t she the reason Zoe visited?

Oh, God. He said they were friends. Did he still have feelings for her? Did she regret leaving? Was she here to try to get him back?

“I can hear you thinking from here,” he murmured. “Whatever you’re thinking, you’re wrong.”

I snorted. I couldn’t be that far off. Obviously at some point, not all that long ago, he found her appealing enough to sleep with her even after Dylan was born. Did they live together when she was born? Were they a family? Oh, God. How long were they together before she got pregnant?

Years?

They had history.

So did we.

But they had a child.

What did I have to offer?

“Shae!” His voice sharpened.

“I’m here,” I answered, my voice flat.

“Fuck,” he muttered. “I worried this would happen but didn’t for one minute think she’d turn up unannounced. Can you come here?”

“When? Tonight?”

The noise from the kitchen filtered down the hallway.

“Tonight, now, anytime.”

Even if Marlena came in, down one server and with no hostess, I still wouldn’t be able to cut out. Leave Ayana’s short-staffed because I’m worried my boyfriend might still have a hard-on for his baby-mama?

The truth was, I didn’t need to work.

At all.

Between my mother’s life insurance my father wisely invested, my father’s life insurance my Nan wisely invested, and my Nan’s, I had no worries in the finances department.

But that didn’t mean I could walk out.

Or would.

“We’re short-staffed.” My voice sounded stiff; wooden.

He huffed in frustration. “I can’t come to you. I don’t stray too far from home when she’s here because Dylan doesn’t know her all that well and my mom can’t stand her. If I leave and Dylan needs to be picked up, I’d rather not involve either of my parents.”

“It’s okay. I understand.”

“Do you though?”

“I’m trying.”

“You’re it for me. It’s you or nobody. I don’t care to even look at another woman, Shae. You’re my it and only.”

Someone knocked at the office door. “Shae? You okay?”

“I’ll be there in a minute,” I called back.

My mind spun with possible scenarios.

Did he want another child?

One she could give him?

His voice broke through my thoughts. “Pack a bag for Sunday.”

“What?”

“If you can get away early on Saturday, come then. But whenever you get here, plan to stay until Tuesday morning.”

Would I look like a jealous girlfriend?

Well, I was a jealous girlfriend.

Would I be intruding?

My eyes widened. I didn’t have any place with Dylan.

“Shae,” he murmured. “I want you here with me and Dylan. Just like I wanted you last weekend and how I’ll want you next weekend. I’m only ever going to want you.”

This man understood me.

He saw me.

My heart stopped scrabbling to burst from my chest.

I took a breath. “I’ll pack a bag.”

Gabe’s relief was audible.

I winced. “I’m sorry.”

“No, Shae,” he muttered. “I’m sorry to spring her on you like this. You belong here. She doesn’t. At least, not like this.”

Late that night, unable to sleep, I wandered into my craft room. I needed a distraction from the questions spinning in my brain. The thought of her with him sat like a lead weight in my stomach.

Did they used to live in that house together? Had she ever stayed there? Did they share that bedroom?

I shuddered at the thought.

I ran my hands over the fabrics, unconsciously picking out fat squares in patterns for a baby quilt. It was the middle of the night but there was nothing to stop me from doing what I wanted.

I sat down and began to sew, not slipping into my bed until the early hours of the morning.

Over the next couple of days, the few stilted conversations I had with Gabe over video chat did little to appease my anxiety though I forced myself to be natural with Dylan. Gabe’s texts came more frequently, my responses less.

Halfway to Sage Ridge, I wanted to turn around, but I said I’d pack a bag and wouldn’t go back on my word. Even I was not that much of a coward.

But when I arrived at Gabe’s Sunday morning, it was to an empty house.

My heart dropped into my stomach like a rock.

I was headed back to my car, keys in hand, my mind focussed on the road ahead when Gabe careened into the driveway.

Throwing his truck into park, he jumped down from the cab. Mouth set in a stern line, he stalked toward me, head shaking like an angry bull.

“Oh, no you fucking don’t,” he rumbled. Stopping less than two feet away, he rocked back on his heels and braced his hands on his lean hips. His jaw tightened. “You’re already out the door and halfway down the street. You’ve been pulling away since she got here which is why,” he leaned forward, “I didn’t tell you right away.”

“Where were you?” I asked, standing my ground.

He huffed with impatience. “I just dropped Dylan at the resort so I could drive to Mistlevale to get you.”

I held my arms out from my sides. “I said I’d come, and I did. I’m here.”

He eliminated the space between us. Toe to toe, he looked down at me. “You’re here.” His face softened and his shoulders relaxed. Dipping his head toward me, he caught my gaze. “I’m so fucking glad you’re here.”

I searched his eyes for any hint of a lie, but they shone with sincerity. My shoulders slumped.

Curving his hand around my waist, he drew me close and tucked my head under his chin. “My it and only, Shae-baby.”

The faintest wisp of engine oil, and that familiar, grounding fragrance that was uniquely Gabe surrounded me.

I wrapped my arms around his waist and burrowed into his chest.

My cheek rose and fell with his breathing, and I inhaled fully for the first time in days.

“I’m here.”