Rachel Laine (The Women of Merryton Book 3) (15 page)

My
dad gave me an icy glare. “So he says.”

“Maybe
we shouldn’t talk about this. Let’s enjoy our day together,” I said.

My
mom tried to smooth it over. “We’re sorry that you have to go through this,
honey.” She also reached over and placed her hand on Dad’s thigh, trying to
calm him down.

“Drew’s
happy, and that’s all that matters to me,” I stated.

“We
want you to be happy, too. Whatever form that may come in.” My mom sounded like
she was resigning herself to a terrible fate.

How’s
Drew?

How
many times are you going to text me and ask me that? He’s doing great since the
last time you texted me thirty minutes ago. Are you even paying attention to
your class?

Don’t
worry, I will get my continuing education credits. I can multi-task.

Beautiful
and smart.

Stop.

You
texted me first.

A
mistake I will try and avoid in the future.

For
that, I’m taking Drew to the shooting range.

I’ll
call your bluff. I would love if you would take him out in public.

Soon,
Rachel. I promise.

But
not to the shooting range, okay?
I wasn’t ready for that.

No
guns on our first outing.

Thank
you.

I
was having a hard time focusing on the instructor droning on about the new laws
regarding long-term care policies. I had already read about them, and his voice
was so monotonous, I could hardly stand it. I kept thinking about Drew and Andrew.
I kept picturing the great time they were having without me, roasting food,
tossing a baseball and football around, and building Legos. Drew was probably
ready to move in with him.

Focus
Rachel,
I thought.

I
probably texted Andrew five more times before the class was over, but it helped
keep me awake and sane. Andrew finally texted me a picture of Drew so that I
could see he was alive and well.

By
the way, how spicy do you like your food?
He texted toward
the end of the day.

Depends
on what you’re making.

How
does garlic shrimp sound?

Delicious,
but I’m not sure if Drew would like it.

I
already thought of that; I’m making him BLT’s.

He’ll
love you for that. Bacon is his favorite food ever.

I
know.

I
did appreciate that Andrew was really trying to get to know Drew, and so far he
was succeeding.
Thanks for handling dinner.

You’re
welcome. We’ll see you when you get home. Drive safe
.

I
sighed. Sometimes I really longed to share my life and responsibilities with
someone, a partner in the truest sense of the word. I wanted someone I could
come home to every night, someone who cared for me, and would have dinner ready
sometimes. Someone I could do the same for. Such a simple thing, but it seemed so
far out of my reach.

The
car ride home was less heated, probably because we let my mom do most of the
talking. She caught us up on her friend’s life. From the sounds of it, she had
at least a dozen grandchildren, five diseases, and ten cats. I halfway
listened, but I thought more and more about our conversation earlier that day.
I wondered what was making them think Andrew was interested in me. Like I said
before, had circumstances been different, and had he not been so well known, I
think he’d be the kind of man I would be interested in. Not that it mattered, I
knew I wasn’t his type. He wanted the Cheyenne’s of the world, minus the
over-the-top forwardness.

When
we arrived in Merryton a little after six, I was more than ready to be home. I
was looking forward to seeing my kiddo, eating, and relaxing. I was hoping
Andrew wouldn’t feel the need to overstay his welcome, but I wasn’t getting my
hopes up.

I
walked into the house, and it smelled amazing. Not only that, it was clean—maybe
even cleaner than when I left. I could get used to that. Drew noticed me right
off and ran to me. I could get used to that, too.

I
pulled him into a bear hug. “I missed you today. Did you have fun?”

“It
was awesome, except Andrew made us clean.”

I
turned my attention to the kitchen to find Andrew grinning at me. “Well, I
think that’s awesome.”

Drew
let go of me and ran back to join Andrew.

I
hung up my coat and satchel before heading that way myself. “It smells
terrific. Can I help with anything?”

Andrew
handed me a glass of red wine. “No. Just relax.”

I
couldn’t remember the last time I drank, but it was a nice touch. I took the
wine glass from him and settled onto a stool at the breakfast bar. “Thank you.”

Andrew
went back to pouring ganache over some decadent looking chocolate cake. “How
was your day?”

I
was gaining five pounds just by looking at the dessert he was making. “Long and
boring. I’m happy to be home.”

“Mom,
guess what?” Drew cut in.

“What,
bud?”

“Andrew
bought me a cool new Bears comforter and posters for my wall.”

“Did
he now?” I glared at Andrew, who was trying his best not to laugh.

“You
should come see it,” Drew said.

“I
definitely plan to.” I stared Andrew down. “I hope you didn’t take the liberty to
re-paint his room while I was away.”

“I’m
saving that for next time.” He winked before he threw some more spices in the
pan he was using to toss the shrimp on the stove.

I
rolled my eyes at him and took a sip of my wine. “This is good.”

“A
friend of mine owns a vineyard in Cali and he sent it to me.”

“Nice.
Are you sure I can’t help with anything?”

“Positive.”
He turned toward Drew. “Do you want to light the candles on the table?”

Did
he even need to ask? What eight-year-old boy doesn’t love to light things on
fire?

“Don’t
forget about what I said,” Andrew warned. “Don’t use matches unless your mom or
I says it’s okay.”

Drew
walked over with matches in hand to light the candlesticks on the table. “I won’t
forget.”

“I
said no firearms, so you thought of fire?” I whispered to my nemesis.

Andrew
watched his son with adoration. “Look how careful he’s being.”

I
joined Andrew in admiring our son. He was being cautious, but he looked so
grown-up. It tugged on my heart. “Thank you for taking such good care of him
today.” I should have said that earlier, I suppose.

“It
may be the best day I’ve ever had.”

I
turned and looked at a thoughtful looking Andrew. In his eyes I could see love
for his son. It was as it should be, but did it ever prick at my heart. I moved
to the table and waited for dinner to be served. I sipped my wine while I
listened to the “men” talk. I had to say I liked how Andrew let Drew help, and how
patient he was with him. He was a natural at the whole dad thing. If only he
would own it already.

It
didn’t take long before dinner was served. Not only did it smell amazing, it
was absolutely delicious. Spicy garlic shrimp over angel hair pasta, and a
Mediterranean salad to go with it. I felt like I was dining at a five-star
restaurant.

In
between bites of dessert, I complimented the chef. “This is the best meal I’ve
ever had.” The chocolate ganache cake was to die for. “Did your mom teach you
how to cook?”

Andrew
shook his head.

“Who?”

“Ask
me later.”

That
definitely piqued my interest. I would remember to ask him.

I
had never been so spoiled. Not only did I not have to make dinner, but I didn’t
have to clean up, either. Andrew and Drew took care of everything. All I did
was sit on the couch and watch them work. I could get used to that.

Like
I predicted, Andrew was in no hurry to go home. We ended up on the couch
together, with Drew between us, watching a superhero movie. I didn’t mind at
all, at least the movie part. Superheroes were always extremely attractive.

Drew
fell asleep between us, so Andrew carried him up to bed. I finally got to see
the newly decorated space. It looked terrible. Blue and orange did not mesh
well with purple and black. And now Drew’s walls were overcrowded with both
Stallions and Bears posters.

“It’s
a good thing you fed me so well, or I might be upset with you right now,” I
whispered as we tucked Drew in.

“Maybe
it’s the wine,” he teased.

I
kissed my son’s head and lingered for a bit. “I had one glass.”

Jake
jumped up on the bed as soon as we stood up.

Andrew
and I stood near each other and watched our angel sleep. I never tired of
watching him slumber.

“Thank
you, Rachel,” Andrew said for my ears only.

“For
what?”

“For
letting me have this moment, this experience.”

“It’s
more than a moment for you, right?”

He
looked down at me with warm amber eyes. He reached up and brushed his hand
across my cheek. It tingled in a way I hadn’t felt in a long time. In a way I
shouldn’t feel now.

“I’m
all in,” he promised.

“We
better head downstairs.”

He
nodded in agreement.

When
we made it to the base of the stairs, I turned to him. “I’m sure you’re tired.”

He
wasn’t taking the hint. “Come sit with me by the fire. I’ll grab the wine and
the rest of the cake.”

“Andrew
…” I sighed.

“We
haven’t seen each other all week. We need to catch up.”

“No,
we don’t.”

“Of
course we do, we have a child together.”

I
sat in front of the already lit fireplace in resignation. I knew he wasn’t
going anywhere anytime soon. He joined me with cake, wine, and glasses in hand.
We sat crossed legged across from each other. He was all smiles, and I was
wondering what happened to my life. He poured me a glass of wine and handed me
a fork.

“You
really are too much.”

“But
I’m growing on you, right?”

“Like
a blemish, maybe.”

“That
hurts.”

I
took a large bite of the cake and savored it. It was heavenly. “So tell me who
taught you how to cook so well.”

He
took a long sip of his wine before setting it down. I could tell he was
hesitant to say, though I couldn’t understand why. “My fiancée.”

My
eyes bugged out and my eyebrows shot up to my hairline.

“Ex-fiancée,”
he amended immediately. My reaction disappointed him. “You’re always so ready
to believe the worst of me.”

I
studied him for a minute. “You’re right. I’m sorry. You make me nervous.”

He
scooted closer, which didn’t help the nerves. “If it helps, you make me
nervous, too.”

I
shook my head at him. “I don’t believe that.”

“It’s
true.”

I
scooted back a tad. I needed some distance from him. He’s was doing more than
making me nervous. “So tell me about this fiancée that taught you how to be a chef.”

He
hesitated for a moment. “She is a world-class chef, based in L.A.”

“Was
it a long distance relationship?”

He
nodded. “Not the best way to go, but we both loved our careers as much or more than
each other, so it worked.”

“That’s
sad,” I said without thinking.

His
head dropped. “I suppose it was, and it’s probably why it never worked out.”

“How
long ago did you break up?”

“Which
time?”

“There
was more than once?”

His
nod came with a pained look. “The first time was right before I met your
sister.”

“Oh.”

He
didn’t address that. “The fourth and last time was about a year ago.”

“Do
you think you’ll ever get back together?”

“No.
I think Heidi and I are finally done.”

“Are
you sure? You sound like you still have feelings for her.”

He
thought for a moment as he stared off into the firelight. The glow of the light
enhanced his amber eyes. “I’m finding,” he spoke into the fire, “that the way I
look at love and relationships is evolving.”

“Into
what?”

He
looked toward me and a wave of tingles washed over me. My body really needed to
get over that.

“What
it always should have been,” he responded. “When you’re in my line of work,
it’s easy to be in love with yourself. And it’s easy to find partners that are as
self-centered as you.”

I
almost felt sorry for him, or maybe I did feel sorry for him.

“I
know you probably don’t understand, because outside of my mother, you may be
the least selfish person I’ve ever met. I don’t want to be the person I was,
and I don’t want to be with someone like Heidi anymore.”

I
set my wine glass down and, like him, gazed toward the flames. “I’m not as
unselfish as you think. I’m very selfish when it comes to Drew.”