Page 93 of Her Christmas Wish
Saw him standing there, in his new, falling-down home, walked up to him, threw her arms around his neck and held on.
A hug was the last thing Gray had expected. The tight clutching, as Sage held their bodies together, was more than he was prepared to overcome. Wrapping his arms around her, he held her with as much force. As though, through the strength of their arms, they could suffocate all the inconsistencies between them, kill all of the problems and just be together again.
As they’d been when they were younger. He started to get hard.
Until he became aware of her stomach pressing against his and pulled slowly, reluctantly, away.
She started to chatter then. Walking around his place, noting obviously needed repairs. Making suggestions. As though she thought he’d meant that they really would talk about revisions to his place when he’d suggested they talk about renovation ideas.
While Gray wanted to hear everything she had to offer on the matter, his mind was not at all focused on the work he had ahead of him. That he could handle just fine.
And sleep like a baby at night.
Baby.
That was the stumbling block.
Or dark, unending pit, from which he’d never escape.
The thought struck. And he gave it a mental eye roll. Maybe ten years ago, it had felt that way. Thank God he’d grown up some since then.
Funny, though, in a non-humorous way, how thoughts from the past, both good and bad, kept tripping him up.
Forcing him to sort through them.
Separate the true from the not so much.
And on to what was...
Sage was turning a circle in the living space, stopping in front of a half wall opening up to another large area off the kitchen. An eating nook, the Realtor had said.
“You could open up this wall—take it out—and have this be an e-shaped great room...”
“I intend to be in the baby’s life, Sage.” He couldn’t prevaricate any longer. The truth was building up inside him, needing escape.
To be dealt with. Accepted.
“I can’t promise that I’ll want to do everything that’s required of me, when it’s required, but Icanguarantee that I will do so. I will be where I need to be, when I need to be.” He always had been. Another long-ago truth. The resentment had been a part of him, but so had the faithfulness. He’d never turned his back on his mother or grandmother. Never, ever seriously considered doing so.
He’d actually strongly resisted Child Services’ attempts to give him, in their words, a better home.
“For better or worse, this kid has me for a father. We can’t change that.” Words he’d been rehearsing all morning. And on a roll, he continued. “What we can do is minimize the damage.”
He was pretty sure Sage was blinking tears from her eyes as she turned to face him. He didn’t let his gaze linger long enough to verify. “How do we do that?” Her question sounded like Sage. Calm, capable. Willing.
Right at the part where he faltered. “That’s the part I don’t know yet,” he told her. “I’m going to be close...we know that. It’s a given. Done deal.”
“You still have time to back out.”
“Would you quit saying that?” The sternness in his tone came as a surprise to him. But was legitimate. “I want this place. The first night I wandered down here...it was the first time in my entire life I felt like a place was home...”
He glanced over at her. Saw her mouth drop open.
Shrugged off his passion for a broken-down building, and said, “We have real things to work out.” So many of them, he couldn’t seem to corral them. They just kept jumbling around in his head. Like kids jumping on a trampoline.
“Leigh should have a trampoline,” he said then. Finding something that felt sure. “She loves to tumble, and the sand’s not the safest place for that. They have them now with sides that go up so little kids don’t bounce off them. I saw one at one of the places I looked at...”
He stopped. Stared at her staring at him. “Sorry. I’m new at this. And not even slightly good at it, apparently.”
