Page 61 of Skin Deep

I put the truck in gear and drove home.

When I got back to the apartments, I took the stairs two at a time to get to my door. I paid the sitter, took a quick shower, got the girls ready, and started throwing a few ingredients from the fridge in a few plastic shopping bags we had laying around.

“Daddy, where are we going?” Lettie asked as she pulled on her shoes. “I thought it was gonna be taco night!”

“It is, baby girl, but we’re going over to someone else’s house to make him tacos,” I said, throwing a bag of pre-shredded lettuce into the sack.

“Who?”

“Someone who needs cheering up.” I handed the bag off to her. “Now go put this with the other bags and grab the pack-and-play for Charlie.”

I got the girls loaded into the truck, and we drove across town in rush hour traffic, all the way to War’s quiet little street in the suburbs. The entire drive, War was all I could think about. I didn’t know what I’d do if he didn’t answer the door or told me to leave. I didn’t want to argue with him in front of my kids. Maybe it was a cheap shot, bringing them along, but what else was I supposed to do? War needed to see that he was good for them, too. He needed to see that we could be a family, that this could work. Maybe it wasn’t conventional, but neither were we.

I was relieved when I pulled into his driveway behind his BMW. At least he hadn’t gone out. I put the truck in the park and let out a breath, rubbing my sweaty palms on my jeans. Dammit, maybe I should’ve dressed up more for this.

“It’s all right, Daddy,” Lettie said, putting a hand on my shoulder. “You got this.”

I hugged her and kissed the top of her head. “Thank you, Punkin. You two stay here. I’ll be right back.”

I rolled the windows down so they wouldn’t get too hot and got out of the car. I knocked on the door and stepped back, trying not to look too nervous. When he didn’t answer the first time, I knocked again.

The door flew open, and War stood there, looking like a complete mess with his collar popped, his shirt half unbuttoned and half untucked, a wine glass in his hand. There was a stereo on somewhere inside playing Heart’s “Alone.” His eyes were all red and puffy like he’d been crying.

God, it was like I’d walked in on an angsty breakup scene in an eighties movie.

He fixed his hardened eyes on me. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“Yes, I should,” I insisted.

“Go home, Pax.” He started to swing the door shut.

I grabbed it and held it open. “No, you don’t get to slam the door in my face. Not after I came all the way over here. You’re going to stand there and listen to what I’ve got to say. After that, if you want me to go, I will, but dammit, you’re going to listen to me.”

He took a deep breath and glanced at the truck before running his hands through his hair. “Fine. Say what you came to say and go.”

I opened my mouth to speak, but the words wouldn’t come out. Dammit, I’d spent the last hour writing whole speeches in my head. Until he answered the door, I knew exactly what I wanted to say. Now that he was right there, I couldn’t think. All I wanted to do was kiss him, so that’d have to do.

I gripped his face and pulled his lips to mine. At first, he stiffened, but he didn’t pull away. Then there was a crash as the wine glass slipped from his fingers. War threw his arms around me, and his lips parted. I plunged my tongue into his mouth, tasting the bitter tang of the wine he’d been drinking.

“Dammit, Pax,” he panted when we parted, letting his forehead rest against my shoulder. “I’m trying to do the right thing.”

“For who?” I cupped his cheek. “I want this. I want us. You do too. I know you’re scared of what your family might do, but you can’t keep pushing everyone away because you’re afraid. Give us a chance.”

He sighed as if he were considering.

“I brought tacos,” I added, hoping that’d sweeten the deal. “Well, the ingredients to make tacos.”

He stood, chewing his bottom lip. Then he looked down at himself, cursed and started trying to right his clothing. “The girls…”

“I’ll explain everything to them,” I promised.

“Pax,” he said with a sigh. “I don’t know. I’m kind of drunk.”

“You can go get cleaned up and I’ll make us dinner. Once you get some food in you, you’ll be better. Then we can sit down—as a family—and relax. How’s that sound?”

War looked up at me, eyes watery. “As a family?”

I smiled and winked. “Let’s call this a trial run and see where it goes?”

---