Page 88 of Unstoppable Love

He’d kicked the chair out at my brother.

“No need to be mad, old friend.” Isaiah slid back his chair and took his seat. After placing his napkin on his lap, he clasped his hands together at the edge of the table. He shot us both a shameless, haphazard smile. “After all, if it weren’t for me, you two might not have pulled your heads out and finally worked things out together.”

“Right.” I rolled my eyes. “Didn’t know you could predict the weather.”

“Not the weather.” He held up a finger. “But if you were smart enough to check the dates you were supposed to be staying at Cam’s, you would have known you would have still been at his house when he got back anyway.”

Cameron’s head tilted to the side. “You’re making this up.”

Isaiah shrugged. “Maybe. Maybe not. Guess we’ll never know, but I keep telling you all I’m not as dumb as I look.”

“Oh, sweetie, you don’t look dumb,” my mom said and reached out and patted his hand. “And that’s sweet of you to try to help these two, but let’s let them figure it out by themselves, shall we?”

Isaiah preened like a peacock under our mom’s praise. Typical mama’s boy.

“How about we take some time to give thanks for what we’re grateful for and leave Cameron and Ava off the hotspot all together?” my dad said and smiled as he met everyone’s glances. “I’ve got my entire family together, back home where they all belong, and that includes you too, son.” He nodded to Cameron before continuing, “Doesn’t happen all that often, but I’m praying it’s more frequent in the future. No bickering allowed.”

He speared Isaiah with a look, whose jaw dropped in faux surprise. “Why is it always my fault?”

“Because you’re the one who starts it,” my mom piped in and nodded toward my dad. “Let’s give thanks.”

Chapter 25

Cameron

Dinner with the Deckers had always been a casual affair. I’d roughhoused with Isaiah over pizza or lasagna or any of Connie’s better concoctions, but I had never been shown to a formal meal in her dining room. Up until we walked into it, I’d been certain that room was used for her sewing and craft projects, so much like my own mom and our dining room at home.

I understood the gesture as soon as I saw it, though. She was making a point.

This family dinner was different because I wasn’t there with Isaiah. I was there with Ava, and I wasn’t there as a friend, either.

Seeing Ava’s stress melt off her in waves when it finally clicked for her as well was everything I needed.

The rest of the dinner flew by, and as normal as it was to be eating with them, it seemed everyone understood the point, even Isaiah. After trying to take credit for getting Ava and me together—I was wondering if he’d had some master plan in telling her to stay at my house and not asking my permission—Isaiah took the change in stride and with grace.

There wasn’t the friendly banter between us like usual. He was calmer, talking about his day and mentioning he’d put Jimmy Morton, Sr., in the drunk tank again after he got caught leaving Whiskey Mixer and stumbling right off the sidewalk into the street. That meant both Mortons had spent some time in jail in recent weeks, and at Isaiah’s particularly serious look in my direction, I realized I’d been so infatuated with making sure Ava was steady and good with us, I hadn’t broached my concerns about her history with Jimmy.

As much as I hated it, that was what I spent most of the time thinking about while we finished up dinner and I talked to Bram about the team and schedule for the season. Our first regular-season game wasn’t until after Labor Day, but the next two weeks would be brutal with finalizing the roster and even making a few last-minute trades or cuts to give us the best chance for a successful season.

Still, while I tried to push the Mortons and Ava conversation to the back of my mind, it was there, lingering all through dinner and then through inhaling Connie’s amazing peach cobbler dessert. And it was there lingering, while we said our goodbyes, a handshake to Bram, a hug to Connie, and a shoulder punch to Isaiah, all the way until we pulled into Ava’s driveway.

“Let me help you down,” I told her. She’d worn a summer dress to her family’s dinner, and while normally I would be carrying her into the house intent on stripping her out of it, more important things needed to be discussed.

“I can get down on my own.”

“I know.” But I needed to take care of her, and I needed to get her trusting me enough to open up.

Once she was on her feet, she dug into her small handbag and grabbed her keys. I took them from her, unlocked the door, and locked it behind us.

Bending down, I kissed her forehead. “Go get dressed in something comfortable. I’m going to get us drinks. Want some wine?”

Her blonde brows rose to perfect half-moons on her forehead. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, but I want to talk to you about something, and I want you comfortable for it.”

Her pinched and worried expression was still there as she drew out, “Okay…”

I slapped her butt playfully. “Get moving. And red or white wine?”

---