The Hot Mess and the Heartthrob(77)

He would’ve gotten out of the military if they’d sent him anywhere else, and even as close to retirement as he is now, if he got orders somewhere outside Copper Valley, I know he’d bolt for his family.

And he knows tons of fellow service members who have to deploy for months on end, but still make it work with their families.

He’s probably the only person here who has a clue. Beck more or less left the fashion industry to settle back home and be with Sarah. Tripp and Lila work together day in and day out. Cash and Davis are still single. The Fireballs players—I don’t know any of them dating a single mom, and the ones who do have kids take their families on the road with them as often as they can.

Wyatt’s the only person with perspective.

I nod, still staring at the floor.

“It’s not about how much you’re gone,” he says. “It’s about what you do when you’re gone, and what you do when you’re home. You call. You email. You video chat. You don’t walk in the door after a week away, say you’re tired, and go straight to lock yourself in the bedroom instead of taking all the hugs and listening to all the stories about what happened when you were gone. She’s tired too, man. And I don’t care what you were doing while you were gone, I guarantee she’s more fucking tired than you. And I guarantee you she wouldn’t be divorced with an absent ex if he hadn’t been the kind of asshole who expected her to wait on him hand and foot too the minute he walked in the door.”

I swallow hard.

I hear him.

I do.

Hell, I got it enough that I offered to be the one to find a babysitter so we could have dinner.

“How do I prove I’ve got what it takes when there’s not a snowball’s chance in hell that she’ll let me?”

Neither of them answer me.

So I sit there, staring at the floor, knowing I don’t get another chance to hang out with Ingrid’s kids during the day.

I almost regret taking the nail polish off and washing as much of the glitter as I could out of my hair.

Mom’s right. I’m leaving in two days, again. I’m out half of December. I can get studio time in Copper Valley and move recording here from New York in January, and I can find a local place to host rehearsals for the tour next year, but I still have travel on the books for at least a week or two a month until the tour kicks off in April.

“You know that’s what you’ve got us for, right?” Davis says from the other table.

I lift my eyes to look at him. He tips his head toward Mom. “Every kid needs a grandma.” Then toward the dance floor, where Tripp and Lila are dancing with James and Emma. “And aunts and uncles and cousins.”

That’s fucking presumptuous.

I like it.

But I don’t know if Ingrid will.

“The family you make always starts with friends,” Mom says crisply. “I might like this one better than I liked your last girlfriends, but that doesn’t mean I’m ready to trust Mr. Never Getting Married to know what you’re doing yet.”

“Says Ms. Won’t Tell Her Oldest She’s Dating His Team Manager.”

“Of the two of us, I believe you have a bigger hill to climb.”

She’s right.

I do.

And the next step is figuring out exactly how I can prove to Ingrid that I can be there for her and her kids even when I’m not here.

I eyeball my beer bottle.

Drinking is not the answer.

But it’s more of an answer than I can see myself finding anytime soon.

I can’t let my family date her for me. That’s ridiculous.

“I should let her go,” I mutter.

“Do you love her?” Mom asks.

Fuck. I’ve loved her from the minute I saw her holding that sign eight years ago. Then, it was a love for a stranger, an affection for what she did for my life without her even knowing it.

Now, it’s for knowing her.

Mom rubs my knee again. “Whatever you decide is right, I’ll support you. Davis is right, you know. When a woman gets involved with one of you, she gets all of us.”

My eyes drift to Sarah, who’s now twirling with Emma while Cash pretends Emma’s feet are going to knock him over every time they spin. And then there’s Lila, who’s surrounded by the rest of the mom squad, who are clearly plotting something.

Ellie was always part of the crew, but instead of sitting with Beck or with the Rivers clan, she’s rubbing her belly and chatting animatedly with a group of Lila’s friends from New York.

Pulling the outsiders in.

It’s what we do.

Jimmy Santiago is looking at Mom again. I lean back and nudge her elbow. “Go dance. Have fun. Thank you for being awesome.”

“I’m writing that one in my journal tonight. Today, my youngest acknowledged that I’m awesome.”

“I don’t tell you that enough.”

She smiles as she rises. “You do, but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t do it more.”

I don’t. I never have.

And if I hadn’t met Ingrid, I probably never would’ve realized it.

Wyatt claps me on the shoulder. “You need anything, let me know. I’m gonna go grab a dance with my wife.”

I want to dance with Ingrid.

I want to dance with her. Chase Hudson out of the dinner mints so he can’t shove them up his nose. Convince the deejay to let Zoe borrow the mic to karaoke to her favorite song. Tell Piper that Tripp needs advice on how to make his baseball players more like hockey players and watch her trap my brother against the wall.