Page 49 of Crossroads of Love

I’m not going to sit back and let that happen, though. I can pretend I am, but I won’t.

“You can come to the house for dinner tonight,” I say overly sweetly to Gavin. “Jayla would love to have you, and then we can go through some of this mess.”

“Perfect.”

I can pretend to play this game and make sure he keeps me in the loop at the same time. I’ll be damned if I’m left in the dark again.

“You take life too seriously, Lena,” Gavin told me as he walked up behind me at a party in the woods behind the Wells home. “Look at you, just sitting over here all to yourself while everyone else is laughing and having fun.”

“Parties have never been my thing.”

“Then why do you come?”

“Because they’re Aaron’s thing.”

He looks around the party and sees Aaron surrounded by his football buddies and a few cheerleaders before he shakes his head. He turns to look at me, flashing that gorgeous smile before he takes my hand. There’s an instant jolt of electricity at the connection, but he doesn’t flinch.

He leads me to his four-wheeler and gestures for me to get on with him. I’ll never forget how it was just me and him flying through creek beds, laughing and talking. Aaron hadn’t even noticed I was gone.

I blow out a long breath and come back to reality. There were so many signs I missed back then. And they all seem to be coming at me like a tidal wave.

I’m stirring the pasta sauce when I hear the front door open and slam shut. A chorus of voices follows: Jayla’s high-pitched squeal and Gavin’s deep, rumbling laughter. I roll my eyes, but a smile sneaks onto my face anyway.

“Mom, Uncle G’s here!” Jayla’s voice carries through the house, and I can hear the thud of her sneakers as she barrels toward the kitchen.

“I figured that out,” I call back, glancing over my shoulder just as she skids into the room. Behind her, Gavin strolls in, hands in his pockets, looking far too smug.

“Lena,” he greets, leaning casually against the doorframe. He’s wearing a worn leather jacket over a plain gray T-shirt, and his dark jeans are just snug enough to remind me why my heart swoons every time I see him.

“Gavin,” I reply, trying to keep my tone neutral. “You’re late.”

“Fashionably,” he says with a wink, pushing off the doorframe and making his way to the stove. He leans over to sniff the sauce, and I swat at his hand when he reaches for the spoon.

“Hands off,” I warn. “You’ll ruin it.”

“Ruin it?” He feigns offense, clutching his chest. “You should remember that I helped you perfect it.”

“You’re an expert at eating it, maybe,” I retort, turning back to the pot. I feel him standing too close, his presence warm and solid at my side.

My heart flutters, and it takes everything in me not to lean into him.

Our parents were together a lot when we were younger. Our moms loved to teach me their family recipes, and I loved learning them. Aaron was usually off doing something else, but Gavin would always be in the kitchen trying to learn, too.

“Mom’s sauce is the best,” Jayla offers. “But I remember the barbecue sauce you made for me and Dad when we came to visit, Uncle G.”

“See? The kid knows,” he says, ruffling Jayla’s hair. She bats his hand away, laughing. “Don’t mess with the curls, Uncle G.”

“You mess with mine all the time,” he counters, pretending to scowl.

“That’s because you don’t have curls. You have, like, a permanent bedhead situation,” she shoots back, grinning. Gavin steps back, mock-offended, and points at her.

“You’re lucky I like you,” he says, and she sticks her tongue out at him.

I shake my head, trying to hide my smile as I drain the pasta. It’s good to see Jayla laugh like this, especially after the rough couple of years we’ve had.

It’s good to see Gavin as his carefree, happy self again. This…this is the Gavin I fell in love with.

“Dinner’s almost ready,” I announce, setting the colander in the sink. “Jayla, set the table.”

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