Ignite (Cloverleigh Farms #6)(55)

I looked over at him. “My mom mentioned something about Naomi being engaged. When is she getting married?”

“In October.”

I smiled at Luna, who was waving to us from Buttercup’s back. “Is he a good guy?”

Dex shrugged. “He’s okay.”

“Are you . . . upset about her remarrying?”

“Fuck no,” he scoffed, as if I’d offended him.

I glanced at him. His jaw was set hard. He wore sunglasses, so I couldn’t see his eyes, but I had a feeling they were stony. Something about the situation clearly bothered him, but I wasn’t going to force him to admit it. Wordlessly, I focused on Luna again.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you.” His tone was grudging but softer. “I don’t have a problem with Naomi remarrying. I just don’t like the idea of someone else thinking he can be their dad.”

Aha. “That’s understandable.”

“They’re going to live in his house, take rides on his sailboat, go on his vacations. He’s got money. He’ll be able to give them things I can’t. That—that sticks in my craw.”

“But you’re their dad—the only one they’ve got—and they love you beyond the moon. It won’t matter what he buys them, Dex. They’ll always want to be with you.”

He didn’t say anything, but his throat muscles remained taut.

“My sisters and I could have cared less about things like money or stuff,” I told him. “What we loved more than anything was the time we got with our dad. The way he made us laugh and feel safe. The way he showed us he loved us.” I put my hand on his arm. “I promise you, no one will ever replace you in their eyes. Someday when they’re older, some guy is going to come along and try, and—”

“Fuck that guy.” Dex stood taller and puffed out his chest. “I’ll kick his ass.”

I laughed, rubbing his forearm. “Easy. It’s okay. They’re only eight and five. You’ve got time before boyfriends.”

He still looked alarmed. “I’m not going to be good at that.”

“My dad wasn’t either. But we knew it was because he loved us, and he was protective.”

Taking a deep breath, he exhaled. “Yeah. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” I didn’t want to stop touching him—his skin was warmed by the sun and he smelled good. I sort of wished I could loop my arm through his and press my cheek against his bicep . . . but I didn’t. “I’m always here to listen. And I understand how complicated divorces and remarriages and single parenting can be.”

“Thanks.” He watched as Whitney lifted Luna down and helped Hallie into the saddle. “I don’t usually spill my guts about that stuff.”

“I know. You just grunt and go about your business.”

He elbowed me and stayed close enough that our arms remained touching. “I was trying to say something nice to you.”

“You were?” I feigned surprise. “I must have missed it.”

“I was working up to it.”

“Keep working.”

He nudged me again. “It’s easy to talk to you. You make it easy. Somehow.”

I smiled, my heart swelling at the compliment. “Thanks.”

A minute or two went by, a soft breeze ruffling our hair. Several times, I thought I saw Dex open his mouth to say something, but he never spoke up. Closing my eyes, I tilted my face to the sun, enjoying the warmth on my skin.

Then I heard his voice.

“What are you doing tomorrow?”

“Working in the morning. Off in the afternoon.”

“If you’re not busy after work, would you like to come to a cookout?”





Sunday evening, I went over to my parents’ house for dinner, as usual. Because it was the last night of summer, my two younger sisters ate as fast as humanly possible and raced out the door, eager to eke out the last bit of fun before they started their junior year.

Millie and I lingered at the table out on the deck for a while with our mom and dad, drinking wine and chatting about last night’s wedding, the wine tasting dinner Ellie and I were organizing, and the new restaurant opening at Abelard.

“I can’t wait to try it,” my mom said. “I hear they hired one of the Lupo brothers to be head chef.”

“Gianni,” I said.

“He graduated with you, right?” my dad asked.

“Yes, and Ellie’s losing her mind.” I laughed, recalling the scene in the kitchen with them. “She can’t stand him.”

“He’s worked in some pretty famous restaurants though,” Millie said. “In New York, Rome, San Francisco. I just read an article about him. He’s supposed to be really talented. Kind of cocky for his age, but talented.”

“I thought he was on some Hollywood reality show.” My mom poured herself some more wine. “The same one his dad was on years ago.”

“He was, but he’s back.” I slid my glass over, and she poured more for me too. “I saw him at Abelard the other day.”

“Those Lupo boys were always a handful in school, weren’t they?” My mom laughed. “Little devils. But so cute.”

“Don’t say that in front of Ellie,” I told her.