Page 98 of Between Now and Forever
“Carter said Dylan was being a jerk face to you.”
I grin. “The day ends with ay, so yeah, that’s true.”
“I don’t want to make things worse by being here.”
My heart stills. “Do you not want to be here?”
His crooked smile melts me. My heart starts beating again.
“Strangely, I want to be here,” he says, his voice just above a whisper. “But I’m not sure how you want this to go, and I don’t want to fuck this up.”
Footsteps sound from the floor above us. I swipe another kiss.
“This thing between us ... I like it, Jay,” I say, watching his eyes lighten. “It makes me feel good. You make me feel good.”
“Sneak by tonight, and I’ll make sure you feelvery good.”
I laugh. “It might be good for them to see me be happy.”
“And I make you happy?”
“You make me very happy.” I press my palms against his chest. “And it’s time they see that.”
If we were alone, I would explain all the things rolling around in my head—like how safe I feel with him. And how I notice the kindness he shows my children. I would tell him that I can’t wrap my head around how easily our lives have intertwined and how he’s proven to be everything I want in a man.Even when I wasn’t looking for someone.
He’s good and thoughtful. Smart and funny, in a grumpy kind of way. He’s a hard worker and a good role model for my boys.
And he’s so handsome, so sexy, I can barely keep my hands to myself.
But what I like most about Jay is how he makes me feel. Interesting. Beautiful. Important. And, although he hasn’t said it, maybe even loved.
I might mention, too, that if given time for things to grow, I might be able to love him with my whole damn heart.
“You make me happy,” he says, kissing my forehead.
The boys race down the steps, and we part. I immediately miss his body against mine and his hands around my waist. We share a smile before I turn to the stove.
“What’s he doing here?” Dylan asks.
I glance over my shoulder and take in his scowl pointed directly at Jay.Great. Freaking great.
“I invited him for dinner since I hit him in the face with a ball,” Carter says, climbing into his chair at the table. “I told him I have an arm on me.”
“How are you tonight, Dylan?” Jay asks.
“I’ve been better.” He sits across from his brother, keeping an eye on Jay. “So you’re here because my brother hit you with a ball? Do you not know how to catch?”
“He does,” Carter says, oblivious to the tension in the room. “He just took his eye off the ball. He’ll learn.”
I set a platter of hamburgers on the table next to the chips. I grab an extra plate, utensils, and a glass.
“Sit here, Jay,” I say, putting the items at the seat across the table from me.
“Thank you, Gabrielle. This looks delicious,” he says, sitting between the boys.
I get situated on my chair. “Carter, do you want to say grace?”
Jay swipes his hat off and bows his head. Dylan’s chin tucks against his chest, but he keeps an eye on Jay. I close my eyes and say a silent prayer that this goes well.
