Nodding, she sniffles again, but her eyes don’t look quite so downcast anymore.
“So we have to cut our parents some slack. Give them a break sometimes because everyone makes mistakes.”
“Okay.”
I run my hand gently across her back, wanting to soothe her. “But if you ever need to talk about this again, you can always talk to me or your daddy. He loves you so much, and I know your momma does too.”
She nods against me, and I kiss the top of her head.
Someone clears his throat, and I look up to see Ethan leaning in the doorway, his solemn expression telling me he heard the conversation I had with his daughter.
I stare at him while I whisper to Mila. “I think your daddy could use a hug. What do you think?”
Her head whips around, and a second later, she’s bounding into his arms. He’s so sweet with her, so tender and reassuring that the sight of him snuggling her close makes my breath catch.
I start to wonder, if he’s that gentle with his daughter, maybe he’s the type of man who could be gentle with my heart too.
The five of us head for Ethan’s enormous four-door truck. Logan yells “shotgun” and grabs the passenger seat, but Ethan smacks him with a baseball cap. “Where are your manners? You should let Tori sit up front.”
Logan nods and starts to get out.
“It’s okay,” I yell from the other side of the cab. “Really. I’ll sit between the kids. It’s easier for me to fit back here anyway.”
Once Cody is all buckled in, I’m debating how the hell I’m getting into this huge vehicle myself when a hand on my hip makes me turn. I’m finally face-to-face with Ethan after this crazy day where I’ve been making myself nuts debating what’s going on between us.
He gently pulls me away from the truck and half-closes the door behind me. “Just wanted to thank you for what you told Mila earlier.”
“No problem.”
There are so many things I want to say, but with his family waiting for us a foot away, now’s not really the time. Instead, I stare at his broad chest, at the tats that extend down both arms, and I shiver when I remember how it felt when he touched me.
I kick the ground between us, feeling too awkward to look him in the eyes. “You know, the Astros lost despite that grand slam.”
He hums in the back of his throat. “I have a feeling they’re not the only ones who lost out last night.” His rough palm slides up my arm. That sexy voice drops to a whisper. “Let’s talk later, okay? I think I need to apologize.”
That makes me pause.
Does he want to apologize for things that almost happened or for letting things get that far?
Does he want to apologize for not coming back out to the living room?
Or worse, am I all wrong about him finalizing his divorce and maybe he’s getting back together with Allison so he feels guilty for flirting?
The younger version of me would blurt out that this whole thing is fucking confusing me. That I know I shouldn’t be so wrapped up in whatever we’re doing, but I can’t help it. That this is the very reason why I shouldn’t do relationships.
But I can’t ask the questions burning my lips because the kids are within earshot, and it would be irresponsible to freak out in front of them.
Biting my tongue, I nod and tuck my hands into the back pockets of my jeans and hope I’m not headed for a repeat of last summer.
Ethan
The whole drive, all I can think is I must’ve said the wrong thing, because I meant to show Tori that I genuinely like her and want to spend time with her outside of whatever family things we do with my kids. Sure, I’m just finalizing my divorce, so I can’t get too serious, but we’re two consenting adults who have to spend a lot of time together. Why not enjoy that time and see what comes of it?
But the second those words were out of my mouth, that we needed to talk and I wanted to apologize, her shoulders got stiff. She gave me a curt nod and jumped in the truck, and once again, I realize I’m sorely out of practice with women.
I glance at my rearview mirror and catch her eyes briefly before they flit away, and she focuses her attention out the window.
Yeah, great job there, Ethan. You weirded her out.
The tires of my truck crunch the gravel in the parking lot when we pull up to the diner. Not sure what has Logan so excited to grab a bite here, since we frequent the Lone Star, but I’m grateful to give Tori a break from preparing dinner. That’s another thing bothering me. She’s working far more than I’m paying her to do. It’s odd that my first impression of her was that she might be a slacker because she’s been nothing but a damn hard worker.
The smell of country food, the kind slathered in gravy and served with a side of biscuits, makes my mouth water when we walk through the front door. It’s a busy night, but after greeting a few neighbors, we crowd around a table.
Tori situates Cody in a high chair at the end and smooths back his wavy tufts of blond hair before she sits next to him. Reaching into the diaper bag, she pulls out a toy truck for my son to play with, which he snatches up gleefully to make zoom-zoom noises. Cody’s sweet nature seems to relax her, as though her happiness somehow hinges on his.
It’s hard to ignore how easygoing she is with my kids. How readily they’ve taken to her. Even when they’re running around like monsters, she seems to take it in stride.
Nothing bothered me more than Allison’s perpetual irritation with our children. She acted like they were going out of their way to personally offend her with their rambunctiousness. Even after a weekend away at that spa in Austin, she never seemed relaxed around our family.
The darkness that always sweeps through me when I think of my wife hovers like a shadow in my peripheral vision, but I don’t want to go down that road tonight. I’ve spent too much time sick over the failure of my marriage. Sitting next to my daughter and watching her vibrant smile, hearing Cody’s wild laughter when Tori tickles him, makes me realize I have a lot to be grateful for.
That’s what the last two weeks have made me realize. Seeing my kids laugh like they mean it, seeing how carefree they’re becoming again—that’s my bullseye and that’s what I want to focus on. Moving forward, not living in the past.
After we get our drinks, Logan slaps a notepad on the table I hadn’t realized he’d brought, and with a flick of a finger, he slides it to me.
“Wanna finish telling you the plan for the weekend.” Logan turns to Tori. “You mind if we chat about the ranch? We need to talk through the logistics for those two new horses we’re boarding.”
Anxiety riddles its way through my shoulders as though Allison can sense we’re talking about work at the dinner table. Old habits die hard.
But Tori gives him a sweet smile. “I don’t mind at all. I’d like to hear what you guys do.”
Logan ticks off item after item, and I jot everything down before I forget. Shit’s easy to forget when you have two kids and a barn full of horses to look after.
“So they’re not all yours?” Tori asks, looking between me and Logan. “The horses, I mean.”
I open my mouth, but my brother is already explaining. “Eight are ours, and six are boarders, and we’re adding two more to the tally.”