28. Face the Sun

28

Face the Sun

A fter showing him the blankets, he tucked me into bed and climbed in after me.

With Marlena taking over, I took the rest of the weekend off and went to Gabe’s early. Gabe canceled Dylan’s usual Sunday sleepover at her grandparents, and we spent the day with her. Monday morning, after Gabe left for the shop, I took Dylan to daycare.

And I picked her up.

I loved picking her up.

Like every other time, she came barreling out the door. Only this time, she dragged her smiling teacher along by the hand.

Stopping right in front of me, she looked up at me and beamed.

Joy bubbled up in my chest and burst out of my mouth. “Hello, Dilly-bar.”

She turned her little head back to her teacher. With her chin tipped back, she pointed at me and exclaimed, “This Shibaby. This mine mommy.”

I choked.

Unable to meet the teacher’s eyes, I hunkered down to my haunches and opened my arms.

Dylan fairly leapt into them.

Hugging her close, I stood and finally faced her teacher.

An older woman, face soft, she smiled. “Dylan is very proud of you. She talks about ‘Shibaby’ all the time.”

I laughed weakly. “She gets that from her daddy.”

A smile breaking over her face, she wagged her eyebrows. “And what a daddy he is!” She shook her head, her smile warm and friendly, putting me at ease. “If I was twenty years younger, I might give you a run for your money.”

My smile, now genuine, widened. “He’s pretty wonderful.”

“He is.” She nodded. “He’s incredible with her. A good man.”

“The best,” I agreed.

Why couldn’t Gabe overhear those kinds of comments?

On the drive home, my head churned while my heart by turns soared to the heavens and plummeted back to earth. Dylan chattered away, until, having missed their regular Sunday sleepover with her, Maeve came by the house to pick her up.

Which was just as well considering what I had to tell Gabe.

When he strolled in the door shortly after five, I was waiting for him in the kitchen.

His face brightened when he saw me. “There’s my girl,” he exclaimed softly. Stopping beside me, he tugged my ponytail back and tilted my face up for his kiss. “How’re you doing, Shae-baby?”

I sighed into his mouth. “Hmm.”

He drew his hand down the length of my hair and winked at me. “There’s more where that came from.” Looking around quickly, he asked, “Did my ma come by for Dylan?”

“Yes.”

He looked down at his hands, his brow furrowing as he turned them over and studied his nails.

He turned to the sink and flicked up the faucet. My eyes dropped to his butt. The way that man filled out a pair of jeans was criminal.

I cleared my throat and tore my eyes away. “There’s something I have to tell you.”

He continued to scrub his fingers, which he had already washed clean at the shop, with a bristly nail brush.

“Gabe,” I reprimanded. “You’re going to scrub yourself raw.”

He shook his head. “I have a meeting at the school tomorrow morning, and I don’t want to go in with grease on my hands.”

I stood and wrapped my arms around his torso from behind and gave him a squeeze before reaching around him and tugging his hands under the tap to rinse them.

“What are you doing?”

I hit the tap to close the flow of water. “Saving what little skin you have left.”

He moved to pull his hands away, but I held fast. Grabbing the tea towel, I patted his hands dry before looking up at him.

His feelings shuttered, jaw clenched, he looked back at me warily.

I weaved my fingers through his. “I am proud of you. I am proud of the father you are, the house you earned, the business you run with your dad, and the lives and property and all the cats in trees that you’ve saved.”

He snorted out a laugh, his face softening for just a moment before tightening up again.

“Thank you, baby, but you don’t understand. Those people? They don’t see me like that. It’s important they respect me, so Dylan gets what she needs.”

“No, baby.” I shook my head. “It’s important you respect them so you know Dylan will get what she needs.”

He tipped his face toward me and jutted out his chin. “It doesn’t fucking work that way, Shae.”

“Yes, it fucking does,” I retorted. “This was my industry. I worked with special needs kids, and I know how it works. The parents who have confidence and believe in their kids? They’re the ones who get shit done.”

His hooded eyes searched mine.

“Baby,” I murmured. “You’re vetting them. If they don’t do their job, you take them to task.”

“So,” he began, his lips beginning to curl into a smile. “I should just go in there and be my regular asshole self?”

I huffed out a laugh. “Think of them as members of your team, of Dylan’s team, and consider it your job to help support their work. Provided you agree with the direction they’re taking.” I rolled my eyes. “No need to be an asshole.”

He pulled me into his arms and rested his cheek on top of my head. His big chest rose and fell, the tension falling away.

“You’re good for me,” he muttered.

“I hope so.” I swallowed my trepidation. “I do have something to tell you.”

He pulled away and tugged me over to the table. “Can we sit? I’m bagged.”

“Sure,” I nodded, sliding into the chair I now thought of as mine. “Today, when I picked Dylan up from daycare,” I paused and his eyes sharpened on my face, “she called me Mommy.”

His eyes searched mine. “And this bothered you?”

“No!” I exclaimed, then lowered my voice. “No, but I didn’t correct her.”

He regarded me steadily for a moment then sat back in his seat. “I think you should move in.”

I blinked. “What?”

But I ‘d heard him just fine. My heart trilled like a bird in my chest, half jubilation, half warning.

“You spend more time here than you do at home. You don’t have to sell your house or even leave Ayana’s, but I think you should move in with us.” He cleared his throat. “That is if you don’t mind being called Mommy.”

“What about Zoe?”

He shook his head. “She’s her mother but she’ll never be her mommy.”

“I went to the doctor,” I blurted out.

His brow wrinkled in confusion.

“I asked her about the possibility the cancer in my family was genetic.”

He lurched forward, eyes wide in alarm, his voice rasping. “Shae-baby, are you sick?”

I waved his concern away. “No, no, but I could get sick, like my mom or dad, or even my Nan. I don’t want to leave Dylan the way my parents left me.”

He reached for my hand and held it tight. “The story playing in your head is not real.”

I scoffed. “Feels pretty fucking real, Gabe.”

“That’s because you’ve lived on the dark side of midnight for too fucking long,” he acquiesced. “But the light of a thousand suns is waiting for you right here with me. With us.”

An unexpected surge of anger flared. I tugged my hand away and jumped to my feet. “And what will you have if it all turns to shit?”

A chill raced down my spine as I backed toward the door to the hallway. “I can’t even remember my mother! Do you know that? I can barely picture my father’s face, and I can’t remember my mother at all!”

He watched me, eyes alert, brain missing nothing.

I continued. “What will Dylan have if I get cancer like my mother, and my father, and my nan? Because that’s what happens when tomorrow comes, Gabe. What then?” I turned and stalked into the living room, needing a margin of space to think.

A low rumble came from his chest as he leapt to his feet, his chair scraping along the floor as he followed me. Throwing his hands out to his sides, he snapped, “And what if it never comes? What if you throw it all away for a tomorrow that never comes?”

“Gabe!” I exclaimed, my eyes wide, face flushing with heat. “Tomorrow always comes! For me, it always comes! What will I do?”

His eyes searched mine for a long moment, then he settled back on his heels. His face as serious as I’d ever seen it, he tipped his chin down and looked at me from beneath his brow. “You’ll remember. You’ll remember us if tomorrow comes.” Stepping forward, he cupped his hands around my face and tilted my face up to his. Brow deeply furrowed, he whispered, “Please, Shae. I need you to hold onto me until tomorrow.”

I tried to laugh but it turned into a sob.

He stepped closer. “I want this with you,” he murmured. “And if tomorrow comes with you, I’ll take that, too.”

I sniffed and tried to shake my head. “You want that kind of pain? You want to be in love with a memory?” I beseeched him to understand. “You can’t touch it, hold it, talk to it. It won’t keep you warm—”

He interrupted, “It’s kept me warm all these years, Shae-baby. You were the one sliver of bright in an otherwise dreary life.”

“What about Dylan?” I challenged even as I questioned why I was making him work for something I wanted so desperately, something we’d been steadily, knowingly, working toward these past two months.

“She’s a completely different kind of light,” he explained softly. “It’s not the same as having a woman you’d sell your soul to keep.”

I stopped short and cupped my hands around his. “You’d sell your soul to keep me?”

His mouth twisted with humor. “I’m hoping I won’t have to,” he answered dryly. “Because when tomorrow comes, I fully intend to be with you on the other side.”

“I’m scared,” I admitted.

His face softened though his eyes remained intent and focussed. “Everybody’s scared, Shae. The story in your head says bad things are going to happen and it’s true. But it’s not the whole truth. Midnight’s going to come, again and again and a-fucking-gain, but you and me? We’ll be chasing the dawn.”

I searched his handsome face. How was it that he felt free to embrace the risk while I agonized over it?

His thumbs swept along my temples. “Lift your face to the sun, Shae-baby.”

A smile sprouted deep inside me and tentatively bloomed on my lips. “When did you become such a poet?”

He smirked as he rubbed the tip of his nose against mine. “I’m a man of many talents.”

“Yeah?” I smiled wider, sensing the goodness that was coming my way. Loving the comfort he so freely gave with his arms, his hands, his mouth, and his body.

He pulled me close and dropped one hand to squeeze my waist while the other cupped the back of my neck. Dipping his knees, he teased, “You want a demonstration?”

I wagged my head back and forth, his strength permeating my fear. “Hmm.”

He began slowly walking me backward.

I gave a short nod and pursed my lips. “For scientific purposes only.”

The backs of my knees hit the couch. Gently pushing me down, Gabe lowered himself over me, his weight a welcome tether to the present.

“I have a theory, a hypothesis I’d like to test,” he murmured.

I lifted my chin, my mouth a breath from his as I inhaled a shuddering breath. “Can I help you with that?”

Running his palm down the back of my thigh, he lifted my leg to wrap around his hip. “How many orgasms does it take for Shae to face the sun?”