Make a Wish (Spark House #3)(60)
“What happened?” I ask.
“I don’t know that it was any one thing, but Karen didn’t think she was good with Peyton, and she was the first woman I’d been serious about since Marcie passed. I think it was too much for all of us.”
“How old was Peyton?” I ask.
“She was five. She only met her a few times, so she didn’t have time to get attached to her, but she had a daughter too, and she and Peyton got along, so it was still tough. I didn’t want to do that to her or myself again, so I kept my relationships separate after that.”
“Were there many?” This is information I need, not because I’m jealous or prying, but I want a clear idea of the challenges that lie ahead, not just for Gavin, but for Peyton and for me.
He shakes his head. “Only a couple, and they didn’t last very long.”
“Thank you for sharing this with me.” I take his hand in mine, feeling a lot like, despite our age gap, I’m the one with more relationship experience. I haven’t had a lot of boyfriends, or even cohabited with anyone other than my sister, but Gavin has a lot of baggage. He and Marcie were together for nearly a decade, from the start of college until Peyton was born. Since then, he’s only had one girlfriend he deemed worthy of meeting his in-laws and Peyton. That tells me a lot about where he’s at when it comes to relationships.
And it means I’m going to have to be extremely patient with him as we move forward.
“This whole situation is uncharted territory for me, Harley. I know I’ve been holding back when it comes to telling Peyton, but I think we can make a plan to tell her soon.”
“You let me know when you’re ready.”
“Okay.” He slips his hand into my hair and kisses me softly.
I can’t tell if it’s full of apology or need, or both.
* * *
I’m not going to push Gavin to say anything to Peyton until he’s ready. But it grows increasingly difficult when he does things like link our fingers when we’re out in public with her. Or he’ll put his arm across the back of the bench when we’re sitting at the park and she’s playing on the slide or the swings. He’ll absently rub his thumb back and forth on my shoulder, and I’ll have to remind him that we’re not alone.
Individually, those small affections don’t mean much and can be brushed off, but the more they happen, the more Peyton starts to notice, until finally, one day she catches us in the act. Well, not the act, thankfully.
Most Mondays I pick Peyton up from school and take her to the park—it’s our off day at Spark House, or as off as we can reasonably have with everything that’s going on—and it means that Gavin’s parents aren’t on the hook every day of the week. It’s not that they don’t want the time with Peyton, but five days a week of after-school care is a lot to ask of a couple on the verge of retirement, and it gives me and Peyton some bonding time.
On this particular Monday, Gavin gets home from work around five thirty. Peyton is feeling fairy-ish, so the moment we walked through the door, we donned our tutus and our wings and spent half an hour dancing around her bedroom. As soon as Gavin arrived home, he was instructed to change by fairy Peyton.
Currently he’s wearing a pair of running pants that don’t hide much, and a blue tank top that looks like it was made for a teenager, and a very sparkly deep-blue tutu. I don’t know if it’s normal that I find him incredibly sexy dressed up like this. He’s just such a great dad.
The three of us gather in the kitchen, Gavin and I moving around each other as I cut up strawberries for Peyton to nibble on while we make dinner. Gavin puts his hands on my hips and moves me over enough so he can get into the drawer with the spatula. We’re having breakfast for dinner, one of Peyton’s favorite meals.
It means we’re having pancakes, bacon, and fresh chopped fruit.
When I turn to smile up at him, he drops a kiss on my cheek.
For a second I don’t think anything of it, until I refocus my attention on the bowl of hulled strawberries and push it toward Peyton, whose eyes are wide as saucers. “Dad kissed you!”
I can only imagine what my expression must be. I glance at Gavin, and he wears the same panic I’m feeling.
I don’t know how to address this, or what exactly to say.
“Harley and I like each other,” Gavin says.
“Like each other how? You only kiss Nana and me on the cheek. Is Harley like part of our family now? Did you kiss her on the cheek when she was my nanny too?” Peyton lobs questions at her dad.
“I didn’t kiss her on the cheek when you were a baby.” Gavin taps on the counter. “But that was a long time ago, and things are different now.”
“Different how?” Her eyes light up. “Is Harley your girlfriend? My friend Josie has an older sister and she’s in high school and she has a boyfriend named Davis who’s always over. She says she saw them kissing, but it wasn’t like a kiss on the cheek. She said it looked he was trying to eat her face. Bobby Cooper wants me to be his girlfriend, and he wants to hold my hand sometimes, but one of the other boys said he doesn’t wash his hands after he goes to the bathroom, which is gross. And I don’t think I want him to kiss me.” She wrinkles her nose then turns her attention to me. “Do you want my dad to kiss you?”