Page 64 of Catching Our Moment
“Amber and her two kids will become part of Aaron’s life now. I need to make sure he won’t be influenced by your outrageous behavior where Shaw is concerned. It’s important for him to have stability.”
I stepped up to the door, ushering him out. “Go, James.” I wasn’t even going to touch that asinine statement. He had enough of his own outrageous behavior to answer for. “Enjoy the holiday with our son. He’s missed you. Spend some time with him.”
He took one step forward. His lips thinned as he tried to hold back any further opinions. “Did you pack his earplugs?”
“Yes, he packed them, but he tries not to use them as much.”
His shoulders squared, and he walked past me. “His tablet—did you pack that too?”
“Yes, but he really does like to go outside and throw the ball now.”
He banged the porch door open and gritted out, “Yeah. I’m sure he does. But what good is that going to do him, Kelcie? It’s not like any team is going to let him play.”
The gut punch synchronized with the slam of the screen door, unleashing the toxic wake-up call that had fed my own negative thoughts for a year.
I opened the door and stared daggers at the back of his head. “You don’t know that,” I muttered. Maybe spending a few days with his son, seeing how much he’d changed, would make him realize that Aaron playing on a team was no longer the impossibility it once was.
23
Shaw
With Kelcie’s father still off RVing with his wife, and my mother living in Florida, our Thanksgiving plans consisted of my brother and our friends. I was more than a little relieved not to have to sit across the table from Coach Hammer quite yet—although I knew that conversation was necessary. He and I had to have a come-to-Jesus moment about my feelings for Kelcie and his opinion on us being together. We weren’t kids any longer, and as much as I respected the man’s opinion, I was done living by it.
For now, my belly was “Thanksgiving-full,” and the tryptophan was kicking my contentment into high gear. I drew in a deep breath and let it out before taking a swig of the beer Grace had given me. I was lounging on Grace’s sofa, Kelcie next to me, my friends surrounding us, and my world was complete—well, almost, since Aaron wasn’t with us.
Because there would be a next year. And every year after that. We finally got off our asses, and while we agreed to take things slow—both to savor the new us and to give everyone else time to adjust to the idea—my mind was way ahead of the game.
I surveyed my friends in Grace’s cozy family room, the game playing on the television, and was very aware of my arm on the back of the sofa behind her, of the way our bodies weren’t exactly touching but how badly I wanted to lean her into my side and kiss the top of her hair. It was where she belonged. Was that allowed? Was that “taking it slow”?
I let my finger caress the back of her shoulder and saw the corner of her lip curve.
The sexual tension wasn’t one-sided. Good.
She shifted, straightening her back, and took a sip of her wine. She curled a leg under her and…there—she leaned against my side.
Bingo. I didn’t hide my satisfaction as I let my hand lightly rest on her shoulder. I peered up to meet several sets of knowing glances and warm smiles. Our friends were happy.
“Even with Kelcie joining us, our group seems smaller this year,” Dylan said.
“Well, the fact that all of us are single certainly slims down the crowd,” Grace said.
“I’m not single,” Aliya said, coming into the room carrying a newly opened bottle of wine.
While none of us rolled our eyes, none of us acknowledged her statement.
“Where is the love of your life,” Dylan said.
Aliya poured a healthy glass. “He’s on a guys’ trip to the Rockies.” She took a sip and did not make eye contact but, faking the casualness of the explanation, added, “It was booked over a year ago.”
No one commented on Aliya’s boyfriend’s constant excuses for not being around us. “What about Wyatt?” Dylan said.
“We are going to do a video call with him in a bit,” Grace said, grabbing her laptop. “He got stuck out in Seattle.” No one was quite sure what Wyatt did in Seattle. Venture capitalist was our closest guess. Maybe something with investments?
The conversation slipped into the background as I watched the game and enjoyed the warmth of the company. I cued into the conversation when the tone of the women changed to Aliya’s latest recommendation.
“So, our friend over here”—Kelcie pointed at Aliya, who flashed an expression of mock innocence—“recommended a new audiobook a bit outside my usual genre. She wouldn’t even tell me what it was about. She even went so far as to send it to me as a gift. ‘Just download it, listen, and call to thank me later,’ she’d said.”
Aliya leaned back on the chair and studied her wine glass. Her hesitancy in discussing her boyfriend switched over into full amusement as she grinned like the Cheshire Cat.
