“Well, what is it then?”
Dad swipes four plates. When I eye him, he waves me off. “I took my shot; leave me alone!”
“I think you’re obsessed with Jett having his birth father in his life.” She volleys her head as if this is no big deal to her, thinking about the fatal flaws of my life choices. “No, not obsessed but maybe more like… you’re holding this idea of Jett’s life with both hands and you want to let go, you just can’t.”
I’m flanked with memories of Beau’s house. All the photos with him and his father. How much love they shared. How many experiences they had together.
“You’re right.” I stumble a little through my thoughts. “No, I mean, you were right. I was. I totally was.”
“But?” she arches a brow.
“But Beau. I’ve learned more about love from Beau than I had in my entire marriage. Honestly.” Because his father loved him with everything he had. And I see that love echoing through him when he looks at my son.
“Make sure he knows that.”
A knot rises in my throat. “I will.”
She wrinkles her nose. “Should I sleep over with your parents tonight?”
“Probably best.”
I hand her two more plates. “Atticus and Miller need cake.”
Now she really wrinkles her nose, along with narrowing her eyes like I’m cutting onions. “Um, no thank you. That man smells like an automotive repair shop had sex with a gym floor.”
Laughter roars from me, and I realize how nervous I am to talk to Beau because all of my emotions right now are big. “He’s a good guy, don’t say that.”
Tipping her head forward, she glares at me. “Tell me he smells good right now, and I’ll give you a hundred bucks.”
My lips twitch. “Atticus is a good guy.”
She rolls her eyes. “See? You know he stinks, too. All that big, sexy man body and those good genes are wasted because they’re wrapped up in BO.”
“BO? A minute ago, it was an orgy of garage and gym smells.”
She waves her hand. “Stink is stink, baby.” Then, with a phony smile plastered across her beautiful face, she drifts across the room like a Stepford Wife, passing plated pieces of cake to Miller and Atticus.
We all eat cake, Jett opens his gifts, mom and dad take Goldie back with them, and Atticus disassembles the canopy over the cake table in the yard while Miller and Delane pick up empty plates and cups, tossing them into a big black garbage bag. Once everything is picked up and Jett is down for a nap, I give Beau and his friends a moment to say goodbye.
The truth? I sneak into the laundry room and sob into the back of my hand as I think about how Beau is going to feel.
The sobs grow deep and wrack my belly and chest when I think about him leaving me over these dishonest moments.
He could. And he’d have every right. If it were me in his shoes, I know what I’d do and it’s run. Run for the fucking hills because lying isn’t good. It’s not good at all.
The door to the laundry room slides open, and Atticus appears. His stern face twitches a moment when he realizes I’m crying, but he pulls it back to stoic just as quick.
“Thanks. It was fun.”
I nod and smile, but there’s no way he can’t tell I’ve been sobbing. No freaking way.
“Thanks for coming,” I say, forcing a phony voice the way Goldie does when she’s on the phone with literally anyone.
He slides the pocket door closed and being caught urges me to wrap it up. I pull a towel from the dryer and wipe my face on it, tossing it back in afterward. Sucking in a breath, I push it out hard. Pulling my shoulders back, I leave the laundry room and cross through the house to the kitchen, where Beau is at the sink. His back to me, a hand towel slung over his shoulder, he’s hand washing my pump as bubbles grow from the sink basin below.
Coming up behind him, I reach forward and turn the water off. “Hi.”
His chin drifts to his shoulder and a sexy, smoldering smile curls his lips. “Hey, you.”