Page 104 of Your Soul to Keep

I cleared my throat and tore my eyes away. “There’s something I have to tell you.”

He continued to scrub his fingers, which he had already washed clean at the shop, with a bristly nail brush.

“Gabe,” I reprimanded. “You’re going to scrub yourself raw.”

He shook his head. “I have a meeting at the school tomorrow morning, and I don’t want to go in with grease on my hands.”

I stood and wrapped my arms around his torso from behind and gave him a squeeze before reaching around him and tugging his hands under the tap to rinse them.

“What are you doing?”

I hit the tap to close the flow of water. “Saving what little skin you have left.”

He moved to pull his hands away, but I held fast. Grabbing the tea towel, I patted his hands dry before looking up at him.

His feelings shuttered, jaw clenched, he looked back at me warily.

I weaved my fingers through his. “I am proud of you. I am proud of the father you are, the house you earned, the business you run with your dad, and the lives and property and all the cats in trees that you’ve saved.”

He snorted out a laugh, his face softening for just a moment before tightening up again.

“Thank you, baby, but you don’t understand. Those people? They don’t see me like that. It’s important they respect me, so Dylan gets what she needs.”

“No, baby.” I shook my head. “It’s important you respect them so you know Dylan will get what she needs.”

He tipped his face toward me and jutted out his chin. “It doesn’t fucking work that way, Shae.”

“Yes, it fucking does,” I retorted. “This was my industry. I worked with special needs kids, and I know how it works. The parents who have confidence and believe in their kids? They’re the ones who get shit done.”

His hooded eyes searched mine.

“Baby,” I murmured. “You’re vetting them. If they don’t do their job, you take them to task.”

“So,” he began, his lips beginning to curl into a smile. “I should just go in there and be my regular asshole self?”

I huffed out a laugh. “Think of them as members of your team, of Dylan’s team, and consider it your job to help support their work. Provided you agree with the direction they’re taking.” I rolled my eyes. “No need to be an asshole.”

He pulled me into his arms and rested his cheek on top of my head. His big chest rose and fell, the tension falling away.

“You’re good for me,” he muttered.

“I hope so.” I swallowed my trepidation. “I do have something to tell you.”

He pulled away and tugged me over to the table. “Can we sit? I’m bagged.”

“Sure,” I nodded, sliding into the chair I now thought of as mine. “Today, when I picked Dylan up from daycare,” I paused and his eyes sharpened on my face, “she called me Mommy.”

His eyes searched mine. “And this bothered you?”

“No!” I exclaimed, then lowered my voice. “No, but I didn’t correct her.”

He regarded me steadily for a moment then sat back in his seat. “I think you should move in.”

I blinked. “What?”

But I ‘d heard him just fine. My heart trilled like a bird in my chest, half jubilation, half warning.

“You spend more time here than you do at home. You don’t have to sell your house or even leave Ayana’s, but I think you should move in with us.” He cleared his throat. “That is if you don’t mind being called Mommy.”

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