It’s been two weeks since the incident at Maddox’s school. And although the woman hasn’t shown up in person, she has sent a few more e-mails and a letter to the house. But sadly, the police car pulled out of my driveway yesterday leaving me disheartened. There is no new information, no leads, nothing to go on. They were able to trace the e-mails back to the computers that sent them, but they were all public terminals. The library. The community college. An airport kiosk. This is not comforting news. It means that she knows what she’s doing is wrong and she’s trying to cover her tracks.
I try to remain positive for Maddox. We’re all attempting to let him live as normally as possible. Well, as normal as it can be for the only kid at school with a bodyguard stationed outside the playground.
I haven’t seen much of Gavin in the past few weeks. Last weekend he and Maddox went camping with my dad, along with Chris and his boys.
I have, however, made progress on my book. I’ve shed a lot of tears, but I’ve also had some good laughs. It’s actually been quite therapeutic. The problem is, I’m constantly horny. We sure did have a lot of sex those first few months, especially during spring break. No wonder I got knocked up, even with a condom. And being horny is not particularly convenient when the only guy I want to sleep with is three thousand miles away. Or camping with my dad.
Today, after Maddox’s morning soccer game, Gavin took us horseback riding. Maddox wore his cowboy hat as promised, the two of them looking absolutely adorable together. Then Gavin said he was heading back to the hotel to ‘rest up’ for tonight. I know he meant it as a joke, but I can see the truth behind his words. It’s wearing him down. All the traveling. The late nights. The early mornings. He’s had a couple of colds and a bout of strep throat in the past two months. He claims it’s from the germs on the plane, but I think he’s just exhausted from his bi-coastal living.
Tonight I have a date with Gavin McBride. I never thought I’d be saying those words again, but here I am, taking a few deep breaths after getting a text from him letting me know he’s on his way over. For our date. Alone. Hell yes, I’m nervous. Dates come with expectations. Expectations I’m not sure I’m ready to meet. Sex, yes . . . but everything else he wants? That’s where the problem lies. Sometimes I forget that he is still married. Married! As in took vows before God and all that. He’s committing adultery with me. Oh, God, does that make me his adulteress?
When I finish getting dressed, I walk out to the kitchen. Callie watches me as I pour, and then down, a shot of whiskey. Then I go back to my bathroom and brush my teeth.
“It’s not like you haven’t done this before, Baylor,” she says, through the door to my bathroom. “You have. With him. You’ve had sex with him. You have a kid with him. But going on a date with him—that has you freaking out?”
I crack the door open only enough to glare at her. “I’m not freaking out.” I shut the door.
“So why the whiskey then?” she asks.
I study myself in the mirror, pondering her question. But before I come up with an answer, the doorbell rings. I hear small feet padding down the hallway and then, “Daddy!”
I come out of the bathroom to Callie’s prying eyes. “What?” I snap at her on my way by.
I emerge into the living room to see an excited Maddox. He runs over to me. “Look what Daddy brought me.” He hands me a pair of tickets. “It’s for a Red Bulls game!” he shouts.
I look at Gavin. “You couldn’t have gotten him Yankees tickets? Red Bull Arena is in Jersey.”
Gavin grabs his chest in abhorrence. “Baseball? Hell no, this kid’s gonna be a soccer star one day.” He winks at Maddox and ruffles his hair. “We’ll make a whole day of it, partner. Just the two of us.” He turns to me, studying my appearance. I’ve chosen a simple blue blouse with a pair of dressy white jeans and wedges. As I watch him watch me, it occurs to me that my blouse is the same color as his eyes. “You look beautiful, Baylor,” he says.
“Thank you.” I look down and read the tickets closely to see that the game is next Sunday. “You’ll get back awfully late,” I say.
“So, I’ll take the redeye.”
I shoot him a scolding look.
“Don’t worry about it, darlin’.” He takes my jacket out of my arms then helps me into it. He opens the door for me, giving Maddox a high-five as we head out. He nods at Jake, who is sitting at the bar in the kitchen watching us leave.
Before the door closes behind me, Callie asks, “Doughnuts tomorrow, Baylor?”
Maddox squeals, “Yes, Mommy. Please?”
I roll my eyes at Callie as Gavin quietly laughs behind me. “We’ll see, buddy. Maybe,” I say, shutting the door.
I thought Gavin might try to impress me by taking me to some swanky place in the city. But instead, we drive over to the next town and he pulls up to my favorite burger place.
When my eyes question him, he says, “I might have asked around.”
I smile, shaking my head at him.
“Is it as good as Joe’s?” he asks.
“You remember Joe’s?”
“Of course. I was the one who took you there if you recall,” he says.
“Right,” I say. “Well, since you’ve had a few more years at Joe’s than I did, you can tell me if it’s as good.”
Before he gets out of the car, he retrieves a bag from the back seat. “I never went back there after you left.”
I sit stunned, watching him walk around the car to my door. When he opens it, I joke, “How did you survive without UNC’s best burger for two whole years?”
Holding a hand out to help me from the car, he flatly states, “I survived without a lot more than Joe’s.”
We walk into the restaurant and Gavin nods at the hostess who takes us to a booth in the back corner—a small one that wraps around so we can sit next to each other but still kind of face one another. He hangs my jacket on a hook as I settle in.
The waitress comes by, batting her eyelashes at my hunky date while he orders drinks. “She’ll have the house Merlot. Wheat beer for me, whatever’s on tap will be fine.”
She walks away and he looks at me to find me staring. “What?” he asks, “Didn’t you want wine?”
I laugh. “Have you no idea the effect you have on women?”
He scoots into the booth and inches close to me. “Darlin’, the only woman I care about having an effect on is you.”
While we enjoy our drinks, Gavin tells me his version of the camping trip they took last weekend. I tell him about Piper’s latest quest to go on a ‘walkabout’ in Australia. We talk about Maddox’s soccer and school, and the ‘girlfriend’ named Amber who he’s now passing love notes to. Conspicuously, neither of us mentions the stalker, presumably as to not set a sour tone for the date.
I’m confused when our waitress arrives with a tray full of food before we’ve even ordered. “Wait!” Gavin exclaims, when the young lady tries to put one of the plates down. He removes the ketchup bottle along with the salt and pepper shakers from the table and reaches into the bag he brought from the car. He pulls out a black-and-red-checkered tablecloth, spreading it over the table before he nods to the waitress to deposit the food.
She puts the food in front of us as I transform into the eighteen-year-old co-ed sitting across from the star soccer player. I look at the tablecloth and the plates before us to see that he has re-created everything from our first date. Right down to the chocolate milkshake.
“What’s all this?” I ask.
“First off, that’s a question, so if I answer, I’m taking one of your fries.” He winks at me. Then he explains, “I want a do-over, Bay. I wish I could take away all the pain of these last years, but I can’t. All I can do is move forward and try to be the best man I can be for you and the best father I can be for Maddox.”
My eyes mist up as I hold my fries out to him. “I think that answer deserves the whole lot.”
He laughs and grabs one, popping it into his mouth. I study him as he chews. I trace his face with my eyes and try to see the differences between the man in front of me and the twenty-year-old college student I once knew. The angles of his face are harsher, more defined, and the beginnings of faint laugh lines threaten the edge of his eyes. But he’s still just as gorgeous, maybe even more so, because now his face has character. It dawns on me that he’s grown his hair out since Chicago. I wonder if he did it on purpose, to make himself look more like he did back then. I like it. Maybe I like it a little too much.
As we eat dinner, we reminisce about that first date we had so long ago. I purposefully don’t touch my fries, a fact that doesn’t go unnoticed.
Gavin nods at them. “Up for a game, are you?”
“Sure.” I shrug as if it wasn’t my very intention.
“Okay, shoot. I’m still hungry,” he says.
“How’s the divorce coming along?” I ask.
He winces. “Shit, Baylor. Going right for the jugular, aren’t you?”
I don’t laugh at his joke. His face gets all serious before he says, “It takes time. Even uncontested divorces can take six months.”
“Is she contesting?” I ask, rolling the stem of my wine glass between my fingers.
“I don’t think so,” he says. “But I don’t know for sure yet. Her lawyer hasn’t filed a response. I think he has a few more weeks before the deadline. But it would be pointless for her to contest. I hate her. There’s no chance for reconciliation. Plus, we’ve got an iron-clad pre-nup, so there’s nothing to worry about.”
He grabs a few of my fries. “Next question.”
I soften my face. “How were you after your dad died?” I ask. “I’m so sorry, by the way. I know you weren’t close, but still, it’s awful when a parent dies.”
“Thank you,” he says. “I was okay. He was always an asshole to me, but I did feel bad for my mom. She obviously loved the guy. She remarried last year and is happier than I’ve ever seen her. And she’s more than a little excited that she has a grandson. It’s all I can do to keep her away.”
I gasp. “Gavin, you don’t have to keep her away. She’s his grandmother. She has every right to see him.”
He shrugs and grabs a fry, twirling it between his fingers. “I didn’t want to push it. I’m trying my best here not to suffocate you, Bay. I feel like one wrong word, one false move and you’d run away from me for good.”
I furrow my brow at him. “Is that what you really think?” I ask, incredulously.
“Well . . . yes,” he says. “You literally run out the door every time we have sex, or even a meaningful conversation. Just when I think I’m getting somewhere with you, you pull back.” He picks up my plate of fries and holds them out to me. “Why won’t you let me in, Baylor? What are you afraid of?”
I feel it. The walls around my heart—they are shaking. They want to crumble but I won’t let them, I put up reinforcements as a tear runs down my face. I whisper, “Everything.” It’s as honest as I’ve ever been with him.
He puts the fries down and pulls me close, wrapping me in his arms as best as he can in the small booth. “Oh, darlin’,” he says. “You’ve got nothing to be scared of. I promise.”
I try to keep my lip from quivering. “But you’re exhausted, Gavin. You can’t keep this up. You’re wearing yourself too thin. Flying out here to be with us every weekend is not going to last forever. It’ll kill you eventually.”
“I’m not doing anything I don’t want to do,” he says, rubbing my thigh under the table. “Do you think I’m coming here every week out of obligation? This is the best part of my week, Baylor—the best part of my life. You and Maddox are my life now. I will come here every weekend forever, if that’s what it takes.” He pulls my chin up so he can see my face and the tears rolling down it. He sighs. “This is not exactly how I planned this date. I was going more for fun and flirty, not deep and philosophical.”
I laugh through the lump in my throat. “I know, I’m sorry,” I say, wiping the last of my tears. “What do you want to talk about then?”
He cocks his head to the side, thinking. Then he says, “I want to hear about the time you went skinny-dipping in middle school.”
“Ugh! That dirty traitor,” I say. “Chris swore he’d never tell anyone about that.”
“Well, he didn’t give me details, he just happened to let it slip after he was all liquored up last weekend,” he says, smiling. “He told me I’d have to ask you about it if I wanted the full story.”
“Well, you can keep your fries,” I say. “That story will die with me.”
He laughs. “I’ll get you to spill one day, Mitchell. But for now, why don’t you tell me about your next book?”
I stiffen. Could he know? “I never talk about my books until my manuscript is done. Not with Callie, not with my agent. And certainly not with you, McBride.”
He pulls the plate of fries out of my reach. “You’re not very good at this game.”
“Ask better questions, then,” I say, challenging him.
The hand he has on my thigh is burning through my jeans as his pinky finger slowly caresses circles by the inseam. He narrows his eyes at me. “I finished your book, you know,” he says. “Who knew my kid’s mom would be a hard-core porn novelist.”
I huff. “It is not porn!” I defend myself, smacking him in the arm. “There’s a difference between porn and a good love scene,” I explain. “Porn—or erotica as it’s called in books—is when the book is centered around sex. So much so that the book would have no real story if you took the sex out of it. My books have plots, deep meaningful stories to go along with the sex.” I roll my eyes. “Plus, the one you read is by far my sexiest. I still can’t believe you picked that one out of all of them.”
“It’s the only one I could find at the airport gift shop the first day I flew out here,” he says.
My chin all but hits the table. “They sell ‘Never Better’ at the airport?”
He laughs. “Yes, they do. I had to ask the flight attendant for a damn blanket to cover up my hard on.”
Suddenly, the thought of Gavin with a hard on causes my insides to flutter. He’s still touching my thigh, running his fingers seductively over my jeans. But now he’s staring at me with the obvious knowledge that he knows I’m thinking of his erection. I feel the intimate probe of his eyes. He removes his hand from my leg and grabs my hand, placing it on his lap to feel what our heated stares are doing to him.
“One more question,” he says, with bedroom eyes and a roguish smile. “I would give anything to do what’s on page ninety-seven. Will you let me do those things with you?”
I swallow. I’m not exactly sure what’s on page ninety-seven, but given my knowledge of the book, it’s probably something that will have me screaming. “I don’t remember everything I write, Gavin,” I say in a voice that comes out way too sultry.
“Well, it’s a good thing that I do, then,” he whispers. “I remember every damn word. I know every single place I’m supposed to touch you and kiss you. I know every position to move you in to make you come while you shout out my name.”
I tremble, feeling his breath against my neck. I struggle to speak the words, “I have a question now.”
“What is it darlin’?”
“Can we get the check?”
He motions for the waitress. He laughs. I smile. We leave.