Page 32 of Second Chance Baby

“I meant other than today. There’s been no one else, Trav. Deliberately. I went on dates here and there, and a couple times I got close, but I just could not do it.”

I didn’t keep talking, even though I knew he had nothing to add on that score. A guy like him with a rampant sex drive would have nothing to share that would make me feel any better. Not that I wanted him to be alone like I was, but I couldn’t deny the idea of him with some nameless, faceless woman, rolling across tangled sheets, was enough to make me want to curl in a ball.

Okay, maybe Ididwant him to be alone. I was no saint. Just because I wanted us together again, and if he was alone, maybe that meant he’d realized the same as I had.

That once you’d been with someone so important, you could not settle for just anyone. Someone not meant to beyours,if you were blessed enough to get lucky again.

“I’m still stuck on my mom being your informant. Did she ever even hint to me she was cluing you in? No, she did not.”

“I begged her not to. Literally begged. There may have been tears.”

“You never used to cry. When you broke your ankle, I didn’t see one tear.”

“Life changes you. Or at least it changed me. Or maybe it was childbirth.” I shuddered. “That definitely taught me there was no shame in crying. Because that shithurts.”

“Yeah, you almost broke my hand.” He laughed, but sympathy was rife in his gorgeous eyes. “I had to say I was impressed.”

“At my strength?”

“No, that my hand withstood Killer Bridget.”

Playfully, I shoved his shoulder, giving into my own giggles as he started tickling me. Just like the old days, he always knew the spots I would react to the most and left me writhing in helpless stitches. But after a couple minutes, my laughter turned into tears.

Saying nothing, he tucked me into his arms, silently kissing my eyelids until the tears dissipated. And I opened my eyes to the principal inScreamtalking about desensitized kids. “If they were desensitized back then,” I said hollowly, “what are they now?”

“Shh, don’t think of hard questions like that.” He kissed the side of my head, easing away as Carrington careened into the living room, her attention riveted on the TV. “Oh, they’re having the party now. Time for all the cool kills. Like garage door girl.”

“Tatum?” I asked as Carrington crashed onto the couch beside me and started digging out handfuls of cheese balls from the big container we’d purchased.

“Yeah.”

I watched her eat for a few minutes then I gave into my desire for cheesy goodness. “Hey, gimme some of those.”

“Did you see this righteous dip made by me?” Travis grabbed the platter off the coffee table and began shoving chips into the creamy cheesy dip filled with brightly colored peppers. “Nice and spicy,” he announced between bites.

Carrington grabbed a couple of Doritos and loaded them with dip before taking big bites that proved the dip was just fine.

I was okay with that, because that left the cheese balls for me. And the pretzel rods and some of the mini candy bars.

Before we’d even shrieked and laughed our way through the firstScreammovie, we’d made a serious dent in the snacks. Then we decided it was time for dinner, so why not have some rotisserie chicken with some of the potato salad we’d picked up.

In not long at all, we were all sprawled on the couch under the fuzzy Halloween throws Travis had handed out, halfway between giggles from a sugar high and a post-dinner coma.

I fell asleep sometime between the end of the second movie and the middle of the third one, and when I finally roused, it was past midnight and Carrington was sleeping with her head on the plush arm of the couch even though it was very late for a school night. “Guess we didn’t plan that very well, huh, kiddo,” I murmured, brushing a kiss over my girl’s forehead. “Also, when did you get so gangly?”

But she curled into my arms as if she wanted me to carry her to bed. “I’ve got her,” Travis murmured in his sleep-roughened voice from behind me, nudging me aside to lift our daughter into his arms. She hadn’t gotten any less gangly, but somehow he shifted her as if she was weightless. He was just such a natural with anything parenting-related. No wonder I’d assumed I couldn’t do any of this the “right” way with him as my example.

“This is why,” I muttered, causing him to slant me a speculative glance.

He held up a finger then murmured he’d be right back. I sat on the couch and paused the movie, sitting back to close my eyes and gather my thoughts. I hadn’t intended to go down this road, but maybe it was exactly what we needed.

Why else would it have come out at that very moment? Especially when the absolute last thing I wanted to do was talk about emotions?

You never wanted to, and that’s why you lost him. You can’t do the same thing again and expect different results.

He came down, smiling wryly. “She was sleeping perfectly until I put her in her bed. Then she was wide awake, saying she wanted to see the rest of the movie. Luckily, I’m used to her, so I just sat on the side of the bed and waited her out. She was back asleep in two minutes.”

I managed to smile although I didn’t much feel like it. I knew I was at the brick wall that I couldn’t pass without scaling it, and I didn’t feel ready. I didn’t want to rip open the wounds I spent so many years building scar tissue over, but I had no choice.

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