“Five second rule?” he asked.
“No. Let him try again.”
This time a piece managed to make it into my son’s mouth. If Patrick was upset about the red stain on his shirt, he didn’t say anything. Who was this man? That shirt had probably cost him a mortgage payment.
“You didn’t answer my question.”
“Do I have to have a reason for coming over here? It’s not like this island is exclusive to all of you who live on it.”
“You could move over here.”
“No.” He lifted a brow at my swift response. “What’s the point? Nobody over here likes me.”
“Does anybody over there?”
I clamped my lips closed to no avail. Laughter burst out. “Probably not.”
“Your babysitter is over here.”
“I don’t have a babysitter.”
“Seems like I’m taking care of you a lot.”
“Like I haven’t had to you.” I gave him a pointed look.
He shrugged. “You staying the night? I can take Blake with me tomorrow.”
I dropped the crust I was holding. “Why do you do that?”
“What?”
“Act like nothing happened between us?”
“That’s you who does that.”
The air shifted between us.
“You were nice to me the last time I saw you. I was a bitch.”
“The time before that you were nice to me. I was a bitch,” he countered. “But that’s not what I was referring to.”
My stomach bottomed out. “Don’t go there.”
“I want to.”
“I don’t.”
“Too bad.”
I shoved the crust in my mouth to avoid the conversation. Patiently, he helped Blake eat. Even cleaned his face and hands when he was finished.
“We’re going up. Does he need a bath?”
“We’re not staying.”
“You definitely are,” he said, glazing right over my protest.
“Patrick.”
“Put the leftovers in the fridge and turn off the lights before you come upstairs.”
“What leftovers? And I’m not going upstairs.”
“The chair in my office isn’t all that comfortable unless you’ve consumed a shitload of whiskey. But you’ll feel it the next day.”
I finished off the slice of pizza I was working on and closed the box. Put it in the trash can. Turned off the lights.
And went upstairs.
Chapter Twenty
Patrick
“Remind me when we decide to have pizza together I need to order two.”
She stuck out her tongue at me, the gesture so carefree, I didn’t know what to do with it.
“I was hungry.”
“I’m not sure I could eat three-quarters of that pizza. And I’m twice your size.” I stabbed my toothbrush in my mouth.
“You’re an ass.”
“Shithead asshole fucker.”
She pointed at me. “Yes. That.”
A warbled question came out. She snatched the toothbrush from me and gave me a look to repeat, “Why were you so dirty?”
She shoved it back in my mouth and towel dried her hair. “None of your business.” Her eyes met mine in the mirror. “You don’t have to keep Blake tomorrow. I can figure it out.”
“I don’t mind. But Tuesday is a no-go. I have court.”
Her mouth twisted down. “He’s not your responsibility.” She spoke quietly.
The statement stung more than it should. She was technically right, but it didn’t feel that way.
“I like hanging out with the little guy. We get a lot done working together.” It was good for me to take breaks to play with him. I worked too hard. He gave me something else to think about. Something else to do. I could talk to him. And he really was no trouble.
“You sound like my dad.” Her face immediately fell.
“He seemed down tonight.” I bumped her hip with mine. “Just telling you. No guilt trip.”
“Why should I feel guilty when he’s in the wrong?” she asked, voice rising.
“Wicked, I have no idea what’s going on other than none of you are communicating very well with each other.”
I rinsed off the toothbrush. She grabbed it from my hand before I could place it in the holder and squeezed paste on the bristles.
I put my arms around her from behind and rested my chin on her shoulder. Her strokes became more aggressive.
“You’re gums are going to bleed.”
She glared at me. Gently, I removed the toothbrush from her grip. She spit as I rinsed it off. It hit the holder with a thud when I dropped it in.
Immediately, I returned my arms around her middle. “Talk to me. Tell me what’s going on in that head of yours.”
“It’s all mixed up,” she said honestly. “They want me to be someone I’m not.”
“Don’t change for anybody.”
“But you said I shouldn’t be so truthful.”
“I said you should work on your delivery. Or keep your mouth shut sometimes.” I ran my nose along her jaw. She smelled like my body wash, something I could get used to.
“They want me to pretend like nothing happened.”
I paused. Her dead husband was always between us. I wanted him out of the way, but had no idea how to go about it.
“They want you to be happy. There’s a difference.”
“I don’t see how,” she mumbled.
“It hurts them to see you in pain. Maybe it doesn’t seem that way, but none of us really know how to handle it. We’ve all failed.”
“How have you failed?”
“I shouldn’t have let you be alone for so long.”
“We were practically strangers,” she protested.
“Yeah, but flowers and a card weren’t good enough.”
I understood what it was like to be abandoned. Maybe I hadn’t wanted to see her pain because it reminded me of my own. Now I wanted to carry it for her. So she could enjoy life with Blake. And with me.
“I don’t want to get over it,” she whispered, even as she melted against me. “I want to be a good mother to Blake. He’s all I have to live for.”
The words sliced my chest open. “He’s a good reason,” I said hoarsely.
“I’m afraid I’m going to let him down.”
“At some point you probably will.” She blinked at me. “Isn’t better to know that now so you can stop worrying about it.”
“She called him.”
“Come again?”
“My dad. She called him the other night when I was over there.”
“Ah. That’s why you asked me to keep Blake.” I hated she got hurt, but I was secretly pleased that when
