Chapter Five

Gunnar was happy to see Gianna had brought home the flowers he’d bought for her. They were sitting in a purple vase on the kitchen island, front and center, when he walked in.

“Hey,” she said, looking at him over her shoulder. “I was just making an apple crisp for dessert. The girls should be home from school soon. You want a beer?”

“Na, I’m good, thanks. I had one at lunch.”

“Since when do you stop at one beer?” she asked, looking amused as she continued chopping apples.

“Since I’m trying to turn over a new leaf.”

She eyed him quizzically before she said, “Well, the coffee’s fresh. Help yourself.”

“Thanks, I think I will.”

“Where’d you have lunch?” she asked, taking in his athletic attire.

“A place called Rusty’s.” He leaned against the counter next to her. “You ever been there?”

“Sure, a couple of times. Doesn’t seem like your kind of place though.”

“I liked it.”

After Levi left, he made small talk with the proprietor about classic rock songs they both loved and he asked him to sign their wall of fame, which he was happy to do. He was surprised how many famous people had passed through and had their picture taken with old Rusty.

“You did, huh?” She didn’t sound convinced. “That’s nice. I’m glad you weren’t accosted by autograph seekers when you went out.”

Had they still been together he would have smacked her ass, then nuzzled her neck for teasing him, but he wasn’t allowed to do that anymore. And he hated it. “I met a dude named Levi. Rowe, I think. You know him?”

“Oh yeah, he’s a friend of Gabby’s. I think they went to high school together or something. Everyone around here knows everyone else. That’s just how it is.”

“How many people live here?”

“Under five thousand, I think,” she said sprinkling her oat-and-sugar mixture on top of the apples she’d spread in the bottom of a glass baking dish.

“You have missed the nightlife or the shopping or the theaters?”

“I don’t miss anything about L.A.,” she said, popping the pan in the oven. “Within minutes of unpacking my bags here, I finally felt like I could breathe for the first time in years.” She frowned. “I just wish the girls were adjusting to the move as well as I am.”

“They’re still having a hard time with it, huh?” Gunnar wasn’t surprised. They’d left a school they loved, tons of friends, activities, and an active social life behind.

“Yesterday, Keegan asked me why they couldn’t have stayed in L.A. with you, at least until the end of the school year.”

He would have loved that, but he was too smart to admit as much to Gianna. “They could have, you know. If you were okay with it.”

“You’re never there, Gunnar,” she said, sounding frustrated. “Teenage girls need constant supervision. They need a responsible parent who’s not—”

“And I’m not a responsible parent?” he asked, setting his coffee mug down on the counter with a dull thud. “You act like I fed them crack cocaine or locked them in a closet or gave them the key to my gun cabinet.”

“I didn’t mean that,” she said, touching his forearm. “It’s just that your lifestyle makes it impossible for you to be a regular parent.”

“What if I wanted to try?” he asked, his gaze dropping to her hand, which was still curled around his arm.

“Try what?”

“To be a regular dad? To be there for the girls, like whenever they needed me.”

“What are you suggesting?” she asked, jumping back like she’d been burned. “You want full custody?”

“No, nothing like that. I’d never try to take them away from you. You should know that. But what if I…” He shrugged. “I don’t know, made a bigger place for myself in their lives.”

“How would you do that?” she asked, looking confused. “Your music—”

“What if I took a sabbatical?”

Her jaw dropped, making him laugh.

“Come on. It’s not like I’d be the first musician to ever do it. Didn’t Garth Brooks take something like fifteen years off to raise his kids?”

“Yeah, but…” She shook her head before resting her bottom on the stool behind her. “Gunnar, this is all happening so fast. I don’t even know what to say.”

“Think on it,” he said, resting his hands on her shoulders. “While I grab a shower.”

***

Gianna was still thinking about Gunnar’s proposal when he returned to the kitchen half an hour later to find her rolling out pizza dough.

“Keegan and Ramsey home yet?” he asked, sitting on the bar stool at the island, watching her.

“Yeah, they went upstairs to get a start on their homework before dinner. They wanted to say hi to you but you were still in the shower.”

“I’ll check in on them in a few,” he said. “In the meantime, can I do anything to help with dinner?”

She couldn’t remember the last time they’d prepared a meal together. His offer left her feeling unsettled. “Um, maybe you could pour me a glass of wine and grill the chicken breasts. I thought we’d do barbeque chicken pizza tonight.”

His grin knocked her off balance. God, he was sexy.

“Hey, my favorite. God, I haven’t had that in ages, Gi.”

She watched him pour the wine, diverting her attention to her task when he caught her looking. “Thanks,” she said, when he handed her the glass.

“One second,” he said, pouring a second glass for himself. “Let me make a toast.”

“Okay.” She held her breath, praying he wouldn’t say something sweet. Having him in her home was getting tougher by the hour. Tougher to remember all the reasons she’d stopped loving him.

He stared into her eyes as he held the glass up, nearly touching hers. “To the woman who gave me the best years of my life. Thank you.”

She closed her eyes as he tapped his glass against hers. “You can’t say things like that,” she whispered, finally.

“Why not?”

“Because it’s not fair.”

“But it’s true. The years I spent with you were the happiest of my life. I may not have realized it until you were gone, but I do now.”

She wanted to grab him and shake some sense into him, but she took a healthy swig of her wine instead. “Did you come here just to mess with me?” she demanded, slamming her glass down. “Is this some sort of a sick game to you? Are you trying to pay me back for taking the girls away from you?”

“What are you talking about?” he asked, looking genuinely confused. “When we were together, you always used to encourage me to talk about my feelings. I couldn’t then, but I’m really trying now.”

“But it’s too late now!” She turned on her heel, needing to put some distance between them. “We’re over. It’s too late to save our relationship.”

“There’s one good thing about never getting married.” A ghost of a smile passed his lips. “We never got divorced. We could put things back together, Gi. Try again.”

“Are you out of your mind?” she asked, clutching her scalp. “Do you even hear yourself right now? You’re not making any sense. None of this makes sense. We’ve been apart almost a year. You’re just having a change of heart now? All of a sudden you realize you can’t live without us?” She narrowed her eyes. “Or is it that you can’t live without the girls and you see us as a package deal?”

She should have known he had an angle. “Of course,” she said, slapping her forehead. “That’s it, isn’t it? I’ll just be like the live-in nanny who gives you sex on the side if you’re lucky. Just like it was before. Well, no thank you. That arrangement didn’t work for me then and it’s not going to work for me now.”

She intended to head upstairs, but he rounded the island and stepped in her path before she reached the bottom step.

“Hey,” he said, holding her cheek in his hand. “I was never with you as a matter of convenience, Gi. I was with you because I couldn’t imagine my life without you. I didn’t want to imagine it.”

“God, you’re such a liar.” Every time she’d questioned his feelings for her, he’d distracted her with sex. This time, nothing would distract her. He was going to admit the truth even if it killed her. “Just admit it. You never loved me. If I hadn’t gotten pregnant, we wouldn’t have lasted a year. You felt you had to stay with me out of some misguided sense of responsibility. You grew up without your parents and you didn’t want your kid to think you didn’t care. Isn’t that the way it was?”

He staggered back, looking stunned. “God, you really believe that, don’t you?”

“What would you expect me to believe, Gunnar? I lived with you and loved you for nearly fifteen years. I shared your bed. I gave you my heart. And in return you gave me the freedom to sleep with other men. How do you think that made me feel?”

“Like you didn’t matter to me,” he said, hanging his head. “But it wasn’t like that, I swear. You mattered to me.” He reached for her hands, clinging desperately. “God, you have no idea how much you mattered to me.”

“You know what I think?” she said, withdrawing her hands and sinking down on the bottom step. “I think you’re lonely and confused and scared. You’re getting older. The girls are getting older. And you’re wondering what’s going to happen when you don’t have your music to fill your life anymore.”

“That’s not true,” he said, staring at a family photo on the sofa back table.

Ramsey had placed it there when they moved in, insisting their dad would always be a part of the family.

“Okay, maybe it is partially true. I am scared. And I am lonely. But I’m not confused. For the first time in a long time, I’m gaining some clarity about what I want.”

Gianna held her hair off her face while she bent her head, staring at the ground. “And why are you telling me this?” She didn’t want to be cruel, but his life was no longer her concern.

“Because I want you.” He knelt down in front of her. “Listen to me. I need to change, I know that. And I’m trying. I really am. You think I like the self-centered, egotistical, money-hungry fame-whore I’ve become? Believe me, I don’t.”

“You’re too hard on yourself,” she said, gently. “You’re not a bad guy, Gunnar. I never thought you were.”

“But I don’t like myself anymore,” he said, gripping the gray button-down shirt he’d put on after his shower. “You don’t love me anymore and you know what? I don’t blame you. I couldn’t love me either, if I were you. But I want to become the kind of man you could love. Will you at least give me the chance to do that?”

She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “You can’t change for my sake. You—”

“I’m not. I’m changing for my sake, so I can figure out how to love myself.” He rolled his eyes. “I always thought that sounded so stupid when I heard people preaching about the importance of loving themselves, but I get it now. That was the reason I couldn’t love you the way you needed me to. Because I didn’t love and respect myself, not really.”

“It’s not like you to be so introspective,” she said, trying to make sense of what he was saying. Was he for real? Or was he just saying what he thought she wanted to hear to get back in her good graces?

“Don’t think I just started thinking about this shit when I showed up on your doorstep last night. This had been going round and round in my head for months. Ever since you left me, if I’m bein’ real.”

“Then why did you wait ’til now to tell me how you felt?”

“I was scared,” he admitted, rocking back on his heels as he gripped the banister. “I thought you’d tell me to go to hell, that you hated me, or worse, that you’d moved on.”

“It’s not like I haven’t tried to move on.” Her gaze landed on his lips involuntarily and she wanted to scratch her own eyes out for giving herself away. “I have.”

“So, why haven’t you been able to?” he whispered, leaning in closer.

His eyes now fixed on her lips too and she knew where this was headed if she didn’t put a stop to it. Like now. “You’re not an easy man to forget.”

He grabbed the back of her head and kissed her like his life depended on it, slipping his tongue into her mouth without invitation. Because that was the kind of man Gunnar was. He didn’t ask permission. He just took what he wanted and he evidentially he wanted her… but for how long? How long before he got tired of playing house again and started ignoring her in favor of the career he loved more than life?

That sobering thought prompted her to push him away, though her traitorous body begged him not to. “Stop,” she said, her breathing labored. “You don’t get to do that anymore.”

“You wanted me to. Just admit it. You want me as much as I want you.”

“I always wanted you,” she admitted, damning the tears gathering in her eyes. “More than I should have. Can’t you see that was the problem? I didn’t just want you. I needed you. I didn’t think my life could be complete without you in it. But it has been. I’m happy. So, why the hell can’t you just leave me alone and let me be happy?”